Musashi - Eiji Yoshikawa [121]
At the same moment, on the other side of the plain, a horseman was saying to Nikkan, “You walk fast for your age, don’t you?”
“I’m not fast. You’re slow.”
“You’re nimbler than the horses.”
“Why shouldn’t I be? I’m a man.”
The old priest, who alone was on foot, was pacing the horsemen as they advanced toward the smoke of the fire. The five riders with him were officials.
As the party approached, the priests whispered among themselves, “It’s the Old Master.” Having confirmed this, they fell back a good distance and lined themselves up ceremoniously, as for a sacred rite, to greet Nikkan and his entourage.
The first thing Nikkan said was, “Did you take care of everything?”
Inshun bowed and replied, “Just as you commanded.” Then, turning to the officials, “Thank you for coming.”
As the samurai jumped one by one off their horses, their leader replied, “It’s no trouble. Thank you for doing the real work! … Let’s get on with it, men.”
The officials went about inspecting the corpses and making a few notes; then their leader returned to where Inshun was standing. “We’ll send people from the town to clean up the mess. Please feel free to leave everything as it is.” With that, the five of them remounted their horses and rode off.
Nikkan let the priests know that they were no longer needed. Having bowed to him, they started walking away silently. Inshun, too, said good-bye to Nikkan and Musashi and took his leave.
As soon as the men were gone, there was a great cacophony. The crows descended, flapping their wings joyfully.
Grumbling over the noise, Nikkan walked over to Musashi’s side and said casually, “Forgive me if I offended you the other day.”
“Not at all. You were very kind. It is I who should thank you.” Musashi knelt and bowed deeply before the old priest.
“Get off the ground,” commanded Nikkan. “This field is no place for bowing.”
Musashi got to his feet.
“Has the experience here taught you anything?” the priest asked. “I’m not even sure what happened. Can you tell me?”
“By all means,” replied Nikkan. “Those officials who just left work under Okubo Nagayasu, who was recently sent to administer Nara. They’re new to the district, and the rōnin have been taking advantage of their unfamiliarity with the place—waylaying innocent passersby, blackmailing, gambling, making off with the women, breaking into widows’ houses—causing all sorts of trouble. The administrator’s office couldn’t bring them under control, but they did know that there were about fifteen ringleaders, including Dampachi and Yasukawa.
“This Dampachi and his cohorts took a disliking to you, as you know. Since they were afraid to attack you themselves, they concocted what they thought was a clever plan, whereby the priests of the Hōzōin would do it for them. The slanderous statements about the temple, attributed to you, were their work; so were the posters. They made sure everything was reported to me, presumably on the theory that I’m stupid.”
Musashi’s eyes laughed as he listened.
“I thought about it for a while,” said the abbot, “and it occurred to me that this was an ideal opportunity to have a housecleaning in Nara. I spoke to Inshun about my plan, he agreed to undertake it, and now everybody’s happy—the priests, the administrators; also the crows. Ha, ha!”
There was one other person who was supremely happy. Nikkan’s story had wiped away all of Jōtarō’s doubts and fears, and the boy was ecstatic. He began singing an improvised ditty while dancing about like a bird flapping its wings:
A housecleaning, oh,
A housecleaning!
At the sound of his unaffected voice, Musashi and Nikkan turned to watch him. He was wearing his mask with the curious smile and pointing his wooden sword at the scattered bodies. Taking an occasional swipe at the birds, he continued:
Yes, you crows,
Once in a while
There’s a need for housecleaning,
But not only