Musashi - Eiji Yoshikawa [288]
She felt around with her left hand and got hold of a mass of black hair.
Takuan’s voice rang out. “Otsū!” Carried down into the hollow by the dark wind, it seemed as if its source was the trees and the stars themselves.
“Have you found her yet?” he called, his voice sounding rather strained.
“No, she’s not around here.” The keeper of the inn where Osugi and Otsū had been staying wiped the sweat wearily from his brow.
“Are you sure you heard right?”
“Quite sure. After the priest came from Kiyomizudera in the evening, the old lady left suddenly, saying she was going to the hall of the mountain god. The girl was with her.”
Both of them folded their arms in thought.
“Maybe they went on up the mountain or some place off the main path,” said Takuan.
“Why are you so worried?”
“I think Otsū’s been tricked.”
“Is the old woman really that wicked?”
“No,” said Takuan enigmatically. “She’s a very good woman.”
“Not from what you told me. Oh, I just remembered something.” “What’s that?”
“Today I saw the girl crying in her room.”
“That may not mean much.”
“The old woman told us she was her son’s bride.”
“She would say that.”
“From what you said, it sounds like some terrible hatred made the old woman torment the girl.”
“Still, that’s one thing, and taking her up into the mountains on a dark night is another. I’m afraid Osugi’s been planning to murder her.”
“Murder! How can you say she’s a good woman?”
“Because she is without a doubt what the world calls good. She often goes to Kiyomizudera to worship, doesn’t she? And when she’s seated before Kannon with her prayer beads in her hand, she must be very close to Kannon in spirit.”
“I hear she also prays to the Buddha Amida.”
“There are lots of Buddhists like that in this world. The faithful, they’re called. They do something they shouldn’t, go to the temple and pray to Amida. They seem to dream up diabolical deeds for Amida to forgive. They’ll quite cheerfully strike a man dead, perfectly confident that if they call on Amida afterward, their sins will be absolved and they’ll go to the Western Paradise when they die. These good people are something of a problem.”
Matahachi looked around fearfully, wondering where the voice had come from.
“Hear that, Mother?” he asked excitedly.
“Do you recognize the voice?” Osugi raised her head, but the interruption did not disturb her greatly. Her hand still grasped the hair; her sword was poised to strike.
“Listen! There it is again.”
“That’s strange. If anybody came looking for Otsū, it’d be that boy named Jōtarō.”
“This is a man’s voice.”
“Yes, I know, and I think I’ve heard it somewhere before.”
“This looks bad. Mother, forget about the head. Bring the lantern. Somebody’s coming!”
“This way?”
“Yes, two men. Come on, let’s run.”
Danger united mother and son in the twinkling of an eye, but Osugi couldn’t tear herself away from her gory task.
“Just a minute,” she said. “After coming this far, I’m not going back without the head. If I don’t have it, how can I prove I took vengeance on Otsū? I’ll be through in no time.”
“Oh,” he moaned with revulsion.
A horrified cry sprang from Osugi’s lips. She dropped the head, half stood, staggered, and collapsed on the ground.
‘It’s not her!” she screamed. She flailed her arms and tried to stand up, but again fell down.
Matahachi jumped forward to look and stammered, “Wh-wh-what?”
“See, it’s not Otsū! It’s a man—beggar—invalid—”
“This couldn’t be,” exclaimed Matahachi. “I know this man.”
“What? Some friend of yours?”
“Oh, no! He tricked me into giving him all my money,” he blurted out. “What was a dirty swindler like Akakabe Yasoma doing here, so near a temple?”
“Who’s there?” called Takuan. “Otsū, is that you?” Suddenly he was standing right behind them.
Matahachi was fleeter of foot than his mother. As he dashed out of sight, Takuan caught up with her and took a firm grip on her collar.
“Just as I thought. And I trust it was your loving son who fled. Matahachi! What do you mean by running away and leaving