Musashi - Eiji Yoshikawa [379]
The wild look on her face kept Musashi from taking the next logical step, which would have been to whip out his sword and finish Gonnosuke off. “All right, I’ll wait,” he shouted, straddling Gonnosuke’s chest and pinning him to the ground.
Gonnosuke was struggling valiantly to free himself. His legs, over which Musashi had no control, flew in the air, then crashed into the earth as he arched his back. It was all Musashi could do to keep him down.
The mother came rushing out the kitchen door, screaming viperously, “Look at you! How did you get into a mess like that?” But she added, “Don’t give up. I’m here to help you.”
Since she had asked Musashi to wait, he expected her to fall down on her knees and beg him not to kill her son. But a glance told him that he was sadly mistaken. She held the lance, now unsheathed, behind her, but he caught the glint of the blade. And he felt her eyes burning into his back.
“Filthy rōnin!” she cried. “Use a tricky throw, will you? You think we’re nothing but dumb farmers, don’t you?”
Musashi couldn’t turn to ward off an attack from behind, because of the way Gonnosuke was squirming about, trying to put Musashi in a position advantageous to his mother.
“Don’t worry, Mother!” he said. “I’ll make it. Don’t get too close.”
“Keep calm,” she cautioned. “You mustn’t lose to the likes of him. Remember your ancestors! What’s happened to the blood you inherited from the great Kakumyō, who fought side by side with the General of Kiso.”
“I won’t forget!” yelled Gonnosuke. No sooner were the words out of his mouth than he managed to raise his head and sink his teeth into Musashi’s thigh, at the same time letting go of his staff and striking Musashi with both hands. The old woman chose this moment to level the lance at Musashi’s back.
“Wait!” shouted Musashi.
They had reached a stage where settlement seemed possible only through the death of one of them. If Musashi had been absolutely sure that by winning he could free Otsū and Jōtarō, he would have pressed on. Now it seemed the better part of valor to call a halt and talk things over. He turned his shoulders toward the old woman and told her to put down the lance.
“What should I do, son?”
Gonnosuke was still pinned to the ground, but he was also having second thoughts. Perhaps this rōnin had some reason to think his companions were here. There was no sense in risking death over a misunderstanding.
Once they had disentangled themselves, it took only a few minutes to make it clear that it was all a mistake.
The three of them repaired to the house and the blazing fire. Kneeling by the hearth, the mother said, “Very dangerous! To think that there was no cause for a fight to begin with.”
As Gonnosuke prepared to take his place beside her, she shook her head. “Before you sit down,” she said, “take the samurai all through the house, so that he can be satisfied that his friends aren’t here.” Then, to Musashi: “I want you to look carefully and see for yourself.”
“That’s a good idea,” agreed Gonnosuke. “Come with me, sir. Examine the house from top to bottom. I dislike being suspected of kidnapping.”
Already seated, Musashi declined. “It’s not necessary. From what you’ve told me, I’m sure you had nothing to do with the kidnapping. Forgive me for accusing you.”
“I was partly to blame,” Gonnosuke said apologetically. “I should have found out what you were talking about before I lost my temper.”
Musashi then asked, somewhat hesitantly, about the cow, explaining that he was quite sure it was the one he had rented in Seta.
“I just happened to find her,” replied Gonnosuke. “This evening, I was down at Nobu Pond netting loaches, and on my way home I saw the cow with one leg sunk in the mud. It’s swampy down there. The more she struggled, the deeper she sank. She was raising an awful rumpus, so I pulled her free. When I asked around the neighborhood, she didn’t seem to belong to anybody, so I thought a thief must have stolen her and later abandoned her.
“A cow’s worth about half a man on a farm, and this is a good one, with a