Musashi - Eiji Yoshikawa [231]
Kojirō chatted idly in a light vein, but Seijūrō’s face seemed increasingly preoccupied. There was a nervous look in his eyes not unlike that of the falcon perched on his hand. All at once he said irritably, “What’s that beggar priest over there doing? He’s been standing there staring at us ever since we got here.” Seijūrō glared suspiciously at Tanzaemon, and Kojirō turned around to have a look.
Tanzaemon turned his back and trudged off.
Seijūrō stood up abruptly. “Kojirō,” he said, “I want to go home. Any way you look at it, this is no time to be out hunting. It’s already the twenty-ninth of the month.”
Laughing, with a touch of scorn, Kojirō said, “We came out to hunt, didn’t we? We’ve only got one turtledove and a couple of thrushes to show for it. We should try farther up the hill.”
“No; let’s call it a day. I don’t feel like hunting, and when I don’t feel like it, the falcon doesn’t fly right. Let’s go back to the house and practice.” He added, as though talking to himself, “That’s what I need to do, practice.”
“Well, if you must go back, I’ll go with you.” He walked along beside Seijūrō but did not seem very happy about it. “I guess I was wrong to suggest it.”
“Suggest what?”
“Going hunting yesterday and today.”
“Don’t worry about it. I know you meant well. It’s just that it’s the end of the year, and the showdown with Musashi is creeping up on us fast.”
“That’s why I thought it’d be good for you to do some hunting. You could relax, get yourself into the proper spirit. I guess you’re not the type who can do that.”
“Umm. The more I hear about Musashi, the more I think it’s just as well not to underrate him.”
“Isn’t that all the more reason to avoid getting excited or panicky? You should discipline your spirit.”
“I’m not panicky. The first lesson in the Art of War is not to make light of your enemy, and I think it’s only common sense to try to get in plenty of practice before the fight. If I should lose, then at least I’d know I’d done my best. If the man’s better than I am, well … “
Though he appreciated Seijūrō’s honesty, Kojirō sensed in him a smallness of spirit that would make it very difficult for Seijūrō to uphold the reputation of the Yoshioka School. Because Seijūrō lacked the personal vision needed to follow in his father’s footsteps and run the huge school properly, Kojirō felt sorry for him. In his opinion, the younger brother, Denshichirō, had more strength of character, but Denshichirō was also an incorrigible playboy. And though he was a more capable swordsman than Seijūrō, he had no stake in the Yoshioka name.
Kojirō wanted Seijūrō to forget about the impending bout with Musashi, for this, he believed, would be the best possible preparation for him. The question he wanted to ask, but didn’t, was what could he hope to learn between now and the time for the match? “Well,” he thought with resignation, “that’s the way he is, so I suppose I can’t be of much help to him.”
The dog had run off and was barking ferociously in the distance. “That means he’s found some game!” said Kojirō, his eyes brightening. “Let him go. He’ll catch up with us later.”
“I’ll go have a look. You wait here.”
Kojirō sprinted off in the direction of the barking and after a minute or two spotted the dog on the veranda of an ancient ramshackle temple. The animal leaped against the dilapidated grille door and fell back. After a few trials, he began scratching at the worn red-lacquered posts and walls of the building.
Wondering what he could possibly be so excited about, Kojirō went to another door. Peering through the grille was like looking into a black lacquer vase.
The rattle of the door as he pulled it open brought the dog running to his heels, wagging his tail. Kojirō kicked the dog away, but to little effect. As he entered the building, the dog streaked in past him.
The woman’s screams were ear-splitting, the kind of screams that shatter glass. Then the dog started howling, and there was a battle of lung power between him and the shrieking woman. Kojir