The Samurai- Part 4

10.
Jun awoke early. His plan was to watch the camp, slowly stirring from slumber, to get a feel for its demeanor. He rose, gathering himself, just before dawn. He watched the sun rise,  meditating upon the soft rustle of grass and flowers bending in the slight breeze.

The camp was a cluster of large tents, sleeping four men per tent. There were twenty, no, twenty five tents, including the tents of the overseers. All said and done about 100 men were living and working at the river.
As the sun rose, so too did the men. Most were young to middle age. A handful looked more aged. They seemed to be performing the lighter work, stoking fires, making breakfast.

All were filthy.

Jun roused his comrades and they all joined the men in their morning meal. Through mouthfuls of rice and fish, Jun learned that most of the men had come from the village or the surrounding valley. Many were here in the hopes of earning enough to expand their fields or put a new roof over their heads.

A small pocket of the men claimed to be ronin, masterless samurai. Their master being recently killed in defense of his holdings. Lacking a master they had no real hope of attaching themselves to another. So they walked, picking up food and work as it came.

Jun had his suspicions about the true intentions of the ronin, but said nothing. There would be time enough for inquiries later. For now, with their bellies full, the three friends stood and went forth to begin their survey of the bridge.

11.
Jun had been told to speak to Chief Architect Aswade. After minimal searching, Aswade was located in his tent, inspecting his designs with a handful of other officials, as well as giving the days instructions to the foremen.

Jun would have described Aswade as beady, or shifty, if he had not been so rotund. The man was obviously fed well. But there was a look in his eye that bespoke, no doubt, to the years of boot licking, back stabbing, and more or less constant infighting that were sure to go along with rising to the top of the heap as one of the Shogun’s closest advisors.

“Most Honorable Aswade. I am Jun. My father, the magistrate has sent me to aid in your endeavors and understand your needs as fully as possible, in order to fill them to the best of his ability.”

“Master Jun, I welcome you to our humble camp. Your father is indeed a great man and trusted ally of the Shogun. Your presence is most appreciated and can only increase your father’s already impressive reputation as a gracious and hospitable lord.”

Following a round of introductions and bowing all around, Aswade began to show Jun the plans for the bridge. It was truly a work of wonder. Jun had never heard of such a construction having ever been undertaken, in his village to be sure, but nowhere else in the world as far as he knew.

It was massive. A high arching bridge of stone and wood, requiring six ten foot square support structures being built in the water up to a height of twenty feet in the center of the bridge.  The largest structure Jun had seen with his own eyes rose barely five feet on three legs.

“Master Aswade, I am sure that no bridge will know its equal,” said Jun in awed tones.

Aswade, it could be said, was rather fond of praise. Jun allowed a smile to play across his consciousness.

12.
They left the tent, Aswade leading the three young men to the construction site. The men had begun the work for the day, hefting large rocks into barrows and dragging them to the water’s edge.  But to Jun’s eye, very little work had actually progressed on the construction. It looked most like two small piles of rocks just beginning to show from the surface of the water.

“Master Aswade, forgive my incompetence, but should there not be four more bases, and the beginnings of legs after so many months of work? I am surely no expert on the matter, and I beg your forgiveness for asking such an impertinent question.”

“I would normally be most upset if one, such as yourself, asked such a question. However, in this circumstance, it is most warranted. Sadly, the river has been largely to blame. When we are able to make some progress, the river just washes it away. It is most frustrating.”

“But sir, there must be a solution. May I ask your methods? How are the men attempting to build the structure?”

Aswade opened his mouth to speak, but just as he did the men became ready for fresh attempts. He promptly gestured in the direction of the men by way of explanation, and what Jun saw was beyond comprehension.

It became immediately clear why the bridge was being built where the ancient ferryman tugged himself across by the rope and pulley suspended over the river.

One man had been tied into a harness attached to the center of his back by a long rope, itself hanging loosely from the main pulley rope. On the ground next to him was an enormous boulder with large metal rings protruding from four points on its surface.

The man waddled over to the stone and grasped the rings with hands and feet, gave a nod, and the rest of the men began tugging  on the pulley. Slowly, the man raised off the ground, tendons threatening to burst through his skin while blood and sweat rushed to his face.  Swinging to and fro, he was pulled just a short distance from the shore, cursing and grunting as he went, and centered over the first small pile. Once in place, the men onshore gave up a cheer, signaling the impending release. The remainder of the camp came rushing to the shore, waiting with baited breath and prayers.

The man spider, in one convulsion freed hands and feet, sending the rock  spinning down into place, only to have it roll free of the pile and start washing downstream. Dejected, the camp went back to business. The man reeled in looked like he would never walk the same.

Jun turned to Aswade and said, simply, “I see.”