Musashi - Eiji Yoshikawa [281]
“Why do you think that? I’m not that kind of person. I won’t forget the many things you’ve done for me in the past.”
“The way you young girls talk these days! I don’t know how you manage to sound so sweet. I’m an honest woman myself. I can’t conceal my feelings with a lot of clever words. You know, if you marry Musashi, you’ll be my enemy. Ha, ha, ha! It must be annoying to massage my shoulders.”
The girl did not answer.
“What are you crying about?”
“I’m not crying.”
“What’s that water falling on my neck?”
“I’m sorry. I couldn’t help it.”
“Stop it! It feels like a bug crawling around. Quit pining over Musashi and put some strength into your arms!”
A light appeared in the garden. Otsū thought it was probably the maid, who usually brought their evening meal about this time, but it turned out to be a priest.
“I beg your pardon,” he said, stepping up onto the veranda. “Is this the room of the Hon’iden dowager? Ah, there you are.” The lantern he held bore the legend “Kiyomizudera on Mount Otowa.”
“Let me explain,” he began. “I’m a priest from the Shiandō, up the hill.” He put the lantern down and took a letter from his kimono. “I don’t know who it was, but this evening just before sunset a young rōnin came to the temple and asked if an elderly lady from Mimasaka was doing her devotions there. I told him no, but a devoted worshiper answering that description did come occasionally. He asked for a brush and wrote this letter. He wanted me to give it to the lady the next time she came. I’d heard that you were staying here, and since I was on my way to Gojō Avenue, I dropped in to deliver it.”
“That was very kind of you,” said Osugi cordially. She offered him a cushion, but he took his leave immediately.
“Now what?” thought Osugi. She unfolded the letter; as she read, her color changed.
“Otsū,” she called.
“Yes, what is it?” replied the girl from the back room.
“There’s no need to prepare tea. He’s already gone.”
“Has he? Why don’t you drink it, then?”
“How dare you think of serving me tea you made for him? I’m not a drainpipe! Forget about the tea and get dressed!”
“Are we going out?”
“Yes. Tonight we’ll reach the settlement you’ve been hoping for.” “Oh, then the letter was from Matahachi.”
“That doesn’t concern you.”
“Very well; I’ll go and ask for our dinner to be brought now.”
“Haven’t you eaten yet?”
“No; I was waiting for you to come back.”
“You’re always doing foolish things. I ate while I was out. Well, have some rice and pickles. But be quick about it!”
As Otsū started for the kitchen, the old woman said, “It’ll be cold on the mountain tonight. Have you finished sewing up my cloak?”
“I still have a little more to do on your kimono.”
“I didn’t say kimono, I said cloak. I put that out for you to work on too. And have you washed my socks? The cords on my sandals are loose. Have some new ones brought.”
The orders came so fast Otsū didn’t have time to answer, let alone comply, but she felt powerless to rebel. Her spirit seemed to crouch in fear and dismay before this gnarled old harridan.
Food was out of the question. In a matter of minutes, Osugi declared she was ready to leave.
Placing new sandals by the veranda, Otsū said, “You go ahead. I’ll catch up.
“Did you bring a lantern?”
“No—”
“Nitwit! Were you expecting me to stumble around on the mountainside without a light? Go borrow one from the inn.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t think.”
Otsū wanted to know where they were going but did not ask, knowing it would provoke Osugi’s anger. She fetched the lantern and led the way silently up Sannen Hill. For all the harassment, she felt cheerful. The letter must have been from Matahachi, and this meant the problem that had vexed her for so many years would be solved tonight. “As soon as everything has been talked over,” she thought, “I’ll go to the Karasumaru house. I must