Musashi - Eiji Yoshikawa [289]
Osugi, though squirming miserably at his knees, had lost none of her spunk. “Who are you?” she demanded angrily. “What do you want?”
Takuan released her and said, “Don’t you remember me, Granny? You must be getting senile after all.”
“Takuan!”
“Are you surprised?”
“I don’t see why I should be. A beggar like you, going wherever he pleases. Sooner or later, you were bound to float into Kyoto.”
“You’re right,” he agreed with a grin. “It’s just as you say. I was roaming about in Koyagyū Valley and Izumi Province, but I came up to the capital and last night at a friend’s house heard some disturbing news. I decided it was too important not to act on.”
“What does that have to do with me?”
“I thought Otsū would be with you, and I’m looking for her.”
“Hmph!”
“Granny.”
“What?”
“Where’s Otsū?”
“I don’t know.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Sir,” said the innkeeper. “Blood has been spilled here. It’s still fresh.” He moved his lantern closer to the corpse.
A stony frown came to Takuan’s face. Osugi, seeing him preoccupied, jumped up and started running away. Without moving, the priest shouted, “Wait! You left home to clear your name, didn’t you? Are you going back now with it more sullied than ever? You said you loved your son. Do you plan to desert him now that you’ve made him miserable?” The force of his booming voice wrapped itself around Osugi, bringing her to an abrupt halt.
Her face distorted by defiant wrinkles, she cried, “Soiled my family’s name, made my son unhappy—what do you mean?”
“Exactly what I said.”
“Fool!” She gave a short, scornful laugh. “Who are you? You go around eating other people’s food, living in other people’s temples, relieving your bowels in the open field. What do you know about family honor? What do you know of a mother’s love for her son? Have you ever once borne the hardships ordinary people bear? Before telling everybody else how to act, you should try working and feeding yourself, like everybody else.”
“You strike a sore spot, and I feel it. There are priests in this world to whom I’d like to say the same thing. I’ve always said I was no match for you in a battle of words, and I see you still have command of a sharp tongue.”
“And I still have important things to do in this world. You needn’t think the only thing I can do is talk.”
“Never mind that. I want to discuss other matters with you.”
“And what might they be?”
“You put Matahachi up to killing Otsū tonight, didn’t you? The two of you murdered her, I suspect.”
Stretching her wrinkled neck, Osugi laughed contemptuously. “Takuan, you can carry a lantern through this life, but it won’t do you any good unless you open your eyes. What are they anyway? Just holes in your head, funny ornaments?”
Takuan, feeling slightly uneasy, finally turned his attention to the scene of the murder.
When he looked up in relief, the old woman said, not without a touch of rancor, “I suppose you’re happy it’s not Otsū, but don’t think I’ve forgotten that you were the unholy matchmaker who threw her together with Musashi and caused all this trouble in the first place.”
“If that’s the way you feel, fine. But I know you’re a woman with religious faith, and I say you shouldn’t go away and leave this body lying here.”
“He was stretched out there, on the verge of death anyway. Matahachi killed him, but it wasn’t Matahachi’s fault.”
“This rōnin,” said the innkeeper, “was a little peculiar in the head. For the last few days, he’s been staggering around town drooling at the mouth. He had a huge lump on his head.”
Displaying an absolute lack of concern, Osugi turned to leave. Takuan asked the innkeeper to take care of the corpse and followed her, much to Osugi’s annoyance. But as she turned to unleash her poisonous tongue again, Matahachi called softly, “Mother.”
She went happily toward the voice. He was a good son after all; he had stayed to make sure his mother was safe. Whispering a few words to each other, they apparently decided they were not completely free from danger