Musashi - Eiji Yoshikawa [272]
“Aren’t you forgetting something?”
“Not that I know of.”
“What about the certificate?”
“Oh, that.”
Gempachi reached under Matahachi’s kimono and took out the scroll. Matahachi felt light and unencumbered. Now that it seemed that his life would be spared, he was glad to be rid of the document.
“Hmm,” said Gempachi. “Come to think of it, maybe this incident tonight was arranged by the spirits of Jisai and Tenki so that I could recover the certificate and give it to you.”
“I don’t want it,” said Kojirō.
“Why?” asked Gempachi incredulously.
“I don’t need it.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I don’t have any use for a piece of paper like that.”
“What a thing to say! Don’t you feel any gratitude toward your teacher? It took Jisai years to decide whether to give you the certificate. He didn’t make up his mind until he was on his deathbed. He charged Tenki with delivering it to you, and look what happened to Tenki. You should be ashamed.”
“What Jisai did was his business. I have ambitions of my own.”
“That’s no way to talk.”
“Don’t misunderstand me.”
“You’d insult the man who taught you?”
“Of course not, but not only was I born with greater talents than Jisai; I intend to go farther than he did. Being an unknown swordsman somewhere off in the sticks is no aim of mine.”
“Do you really mean that?”
“Every word of it.” Kojirō had no compunction about revealing his ambitions, outrageous though they were by ordinary standards. “I’m grateful to Jisai, but being saddled with a certificate from a little-known country school would do me more harm than good. Itō Ittōsai accepted his, but he didn’t carry on the Chūjō Style. He created a new style. I intend to do the same. My interest is the Ganryū Style, not the Chūjō Style. One of these days, the name Ganryū will be very famous. So you see, the document means nothing to me. Take it back to Kōzuke and ask the temple there to preserve it along with its records of births and deaths.” There was not a trace of modesty or humility in Kojirō’s speech.
Gempachi stared at him resentfully.
“Please give my regards to the Kusanagi family,” Kojirō said politely. “One of these days I’ll go east and visit them, of that you can be sure.” He ended these words of dismissal with a broad smile.
To Gempachi, this final display of courtesy smacked of patronization. He thought seriously of taking Kojirō to task for his ungrateful and disrespectful attitude toward Jisai, but a moment’s consideration told him it would be a waste of time. Walking over to his pack, he put the certificate in it, said a curt good-bye and took his leave.
After he was gone, Kojirō had a good laugh. “My, he was angry, wasn’t he? Ha, ha, ha, ha!” Then he turned to Matahachi. “Now, what have you got to say for yourself, you worthless fake?”
Matahachi, of course, had nothing to say.
“Answer me! You admit that you tried to impersonate me, don’t you?” “Yes.”
“I know you’re called Matahachi, but what’s your full name?”
“Hon’iden Matahachi.”
“Are you a rōnin?”
“Yes.”
“Take a lesson from me, you spineless ass. You saw me return that certificate, didn’t you? If a man doesn’t have enough pride to do a thing like that, he’ll never be able to do anything on his own. But look at you! You use another man’s name, steal his certificate, go about living on his reputation. Could anything be more despicable? Maybe your experience tonight will teach you a lesson: a house cat may put on a tiger’s skin, but it’s still a house cat.”
“I’ll be very careful in the future.”
“I’m going to refrain from killing you, but I think I’ll leave you here to get free by yourself, if you can manage.” On a sudden impulse, Kojirō slipped the dagger from his scabbard and began scraping off the bark above Matahachi’s head. The chips tumbled down onto Matahachi’s neck. “I need something to write with,” grumbled Kojirō.
“There’s a kit with a brush and ink stone in my obi,” said Matahachi obligingly.
“Good! I’ll just borrow them for a moment.”
Kojirō inked the brush and wrote on the patch of tree trunk from