Musashi - Eiji Yoshikawa [331]
Matahachi stretched and asked, “Did you catch the girl?”
“No; no sign of her.” He sighed. “She was pretty, so the clerks thought that even if she couldn’t pay her bill, we could get back the money by having her live here for a while, if you see what I mean. Unfortunately, she was a bit too fast for us.”
Sitting on the edge of the veranda, Matahachi tied his sandals. After waiting a minute or so, he called irritably, “Mother, what are you doing in there? You’re always hurrying me up, but at the last minute you’re never ready!”
“Just hold on. Matahachi, did I give you the money pouch I carry in my traveling bag? I paid the bill with some cash from my stomach wrapper, but our travel money was in the pouch.”
“I haven’t seen it.”
“Come here a minute. Here’s a scrap of paper with your name on it. What! … Why, of all the nerve! It says … it says that because of her long acquaintance with you, she hopes you’ll pardon her for borrowing the money. Borrowing … borrowing!”
“That’s Akemi’s writing.”
Osugi turned on the innkeeper. “Look here! If a guest’s property is stolen, the responsibility is yours. You’ll have to do something about this.”
“Is that so?” He smiled broadly. “Ordinarily, that would be the case, but since it appears you knew the girl, I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to take care of her bill first.”
Osugi’s eyes darted back and forth wildly, as she stammered, “Wh-what are you talking about? Why, I never saw that thieving wench before in my life. Matahachi! Stop fooling around! If we don’t get started, the cock will be crowing.”
The Death Trap
With the moon still high in the early morning sky, the shadows of the men climbing the white mountain path collided eerily, making the climbers feel even more uneasy.
“This isn’t what I expected,” said one.
“Me either. There are lots of faces missing. I thought for sure there’d be a hundred and fifty of us at least.”
“Urn. Doesn’t look like half that many.”
“I guess when Genzaemon arrives with his men, we’ll total about seventy in all.”
“It’s too bad. The House of Yoshioka certainly isn’t what it used to be.”
From another group: “Who cares about the ones who aren’t here? With the dōjō closed, a lot of men have to think first about making a living. The proudest and most loyal are here. That’s more important than numbers!”
“Right! If there were a hundred or two hundred men here, they’d just get in each other’s way.”
“Ha, ha! Talking brave again. Remember the Rengeōin. Twenty men standing around, and Musashi still got away!”
Mount Hiei and the other peaks were still fast asleep in the folds of the clouds. The men were gathered at the fork of a little country road, where one path led to the top of Hiei and the other branched off toward Ichijōji. The road was steep, rocky and deeply furrowed by gullies. Around the most prominent landmark, a great pine tree spreading out like a gigantic umbrella, was a group of the senior disciples. Seated on the ground like so many night-crawling crabs, they were discussing the terrain.
“The road has three branches, so the question is which one Musashi will use. The best strategy is to divide the men into three squads and station one at each approach. Then Genjirō and his father can stay here with a corps of about ten of our strongest men—Miike, Ueda and the others.”
“No, the ground’s too rugged to have a large number of men in one place. We should spread them out along the approaches and have them stay hidden until Musashi is halfway up. Then they can attack from front and rear simultaneously.”
There was a good deal of coming and going among the groups, moving shadows appearing to be skewered on lances or long scabbards. Despite a tendency to underestimate their enemy, there were no cowards among them.
“He’s coming!” a man on the outer rim shouted.
Shadows came to a dead standstill. An icy twinge ran through the veins of every samurai.
“Take it easy. It’s only Genjirō.”
“Why, he’s riding in a palanquin!”
“Well, he’s only a child!