Musashi - Eiji Yoshikawa [102]
On hearing that Kizaemon was an official in the famous House of Yagyū, Otsū congratulated herself for having guessed that he was no ordinary samurai. Still, she found it difficult to reply to his proposal.
Faced with her silence, Kizaemon asked, “Don’t you want to come?”
“It’s not that. I couldn’t wish for a better offer. I’m simply afraid my playing isn’t good enough for a great man like Yagyū Muneyoshi.”
“Oh, don’t give it a second thought. The Yagyūs are very different from the other daimyō. Sekishūsai in particular has the simple, quiet tastes of a tea-master. He would be more upset, I think, by your diffidence than by what you fancy to be your lack of skill.”
Otsū realized that going to Koyagyū, rather than wandering aimlessly to Nara, offered some hope, however slight. Since the death of Yoshioka Kemp& the Yagyūs had been considered by many to be the greatest exponents of the martial arts in the country. It was only to be expected that swordsmen from all over the country would call at their gate, and there might even be a registry of visitors. How happy she would be if on that list she found the name of Miyamoto Musashi!
With that possibility foremost in mind, she said brightly, “If you really think it’s all right, I’ll go.”
“You will? Wonderful! I’m very grateful… . Hmm, I doubt that a woman could walk all the way there before nightfall. Can you ride a horse?”
“Yes.”
Kizaemon ducked under the eaves of the shop and raised his hand toward the bridge. The groom waiting there came running forward with a horse, which Kizaemon let Otsū ride, while he himself walked along beside her.
Jōtarō spotted them from the hill behind the teahouse and called, “Are you leaving already?”
“Yes, we’re off.”
“Wait for me!”
They were halfway across Uji Bridge when Jōtarō caught up with them. Kizaemon asked him what he had been up to, and he answered that a lot of men in a grove on the hill were playing some kind of game. He didn’t know what game it was, but it looked interesting.
The groom laughed. “That would be the rōnin riffraff having a gambling session. They don’t have enough money to eat, so they lure travelers into their games and take them for everything they’re worth. It’s disgraceful!”
“Oh, so they gamble for a living?” asked Kizaemon.
“The gamblers are among the better ones,” replied the groom. “Many others have become kidnappers and blackmailers. They’re such a rough lot nobody can do anything to stop them.”
“Why doesn’t the lord of the district arrest them or drive them away?”
“There are too many of them—far more than he can cope with. If all the rōnin from Kawachi, Yamato and Kii joined together, they’d be stronger than his own troops.”
“I hear Kōga’s swarming with them too.”
“Yes. The ones from Tsutsui fled there. They’re determined to hang on until the next war.”
“You keep talking that way about the rōnin,” Jōtarō broke in, “but some of them must be good men.”
“That’s true,” agreed Kizaemon.
Faced with her silence, Kizaemon asked, “Don’t you want to come?”
“It’s not that. I couldn’t wish for a better offer. I’m simply afraid my playing isn’t good enough for a great man like Yagyū Muneyoshi.”
“Oh, don’t give it a second thought. The Yagyūs are very different from the other daimyō. Sekishūsai in particular has the simple, quiet tastes of a tea-master. He would be more upset, I think, by your diffidence than by what you fancy to be your lack of skill.”
Otsū realized that going to Koyagyū, rather than wandering aimlessly to Nara, offered some hope, however slight. Since the death of Yoshioka Kempō the Yagyūs had been considered by many to be the greatest exponents of the martial arts in the country.