Musashi - Eiji Yoshikawa [27]
Grudgingly, Osugi allowed herself to be persuaded. She was, of course, as eager as Otsū to find out what was going on, but she’d die before begging for anything from a Shimmen.
The house was about a mile away. Like the Hon’iden family, the Shimmen were country gentry, and both houses were descended from the Akamatsu clan many generations back. Situated across the river from one another, they had always tacitly recognized each other’s right to exist, but that was the extent of their intimacy.
When they arrived at the front gate, they found it shut, and the trees were so thick that no light could be seen from the house. Otsū started to walk around to the back entrance, but Osugi stopped mulishly in her tracks.
“I don’t think it’s right for the head of the Hon’iden family to enter the Shimmen residence by the back door. It’s degrading.”
Seeing she wasn’t going to budge, Otsū proceeded to the rear entrance alone. Presently a light appeared just inside the gate. Ogin herself had come out to greet the older woman, who, suddenly transformed from a crone plowing the fields into a great lady, addressed her hostess in lofty tones.
“Forgive me for disturbing you at this late hour, but my business simply could not wait. How good of you to come and let me in!” Sweeping past Ogin and on into the house, she went immediately, as though she were an envoy from the gods, to the most honored spot in the room, in front of the alcove. Sitting proudly, her figure framed by both a hanging scroll and a flower arrangement, she deigned to accept Ogin’s sincerest words of welcome.
The amenities concluded, Osugi went straight to the point. Her false smile disappeared as she glared at the young woman before her. “I have been told that young demon of this house has crawled back home. Please fetch him.” Although Osugi’s tongue was notorious for its sharpness, this undisguised maliciousness came as something of a shock to the gentle Ogin.
“Whom do you mean by ‘that young demon’?” asked Ogin, with palpable restraint.
Chameleon-like, Osugi changed her tactics. “A slip of the tongue, I assure you,” she said with a laugh. “That’s what the people in the village call him; I suppose I picked it up from them. The ‘young demon’ is Takezō. He is hiding here, isn’t he?”
“Why, no,” replied Ogin with genuine astonishment. Embarrassed to hear her brother referred to in this way, she bit her lip.
Otsū, taking pity on her, explained that she had spotted Takezō at the festival. Then, in an attempt to smooth over ruffled feelings, she added, “Strange, isn’t it, that he didn’t come straight here?”
“Well, he didn’t,” said Ogin. “This is the first I’ve heard anything about it. But if he is back, as you say, I’m sure he’ll be knocking at the door any minute.”
Osugi, sitting formally on the floor cushion, legs tucked neatly beneath her, folded her hands in her lap and with the expression of an outraged motherin-law, launched into a tirade.
“What is all this? Do you expect me to believe you haven’t heard from him yet? Don’t you understand that I’m the mother whose son your young ne’er-do-well dragged off to war? Don’t you know that Matahachi is the heir and the most important member of the Hon’iden family? It was your brother who talked my boy into going off to get himself killed. If my son is dead, it’s your brother who killed him, and if he thinks he can just sneak back alone and get away with it …”
The old woman stopped just long enough to catch her breath, then her eyes glared in fury once more. “And what about you? Since he’s obviously had the indecency to sneak back by himself, why haven’t you, his older sister, sent him immediately to me? I’m disgusted with both of you, treating an old woman with such disrespect. Who do you think I am?”
Gulping down another breath, she ranted on. “If your Takezō is back, then bring my Matahachi back to me. If you can’t do that, the least you can do is set that young demon down right here and make him explain to my satisfaction what happened to my