Musashi - Eiji Yoshikawa [392]
Geki was favorably impressed. “I might have known,” he said. “You want to be ready for action at any time, no matter where you are. Lord Date would admire that.” He stared with unconcealed fascination at Musashi’s face, which was lit from the side by the lamp. Remembering himself after a moment, he said, “Come. Sit down and have some sake.” He rinsed off a cup in a bowl of water and offered it to Musashi.
Musashi seated himself and bowed. Resting his hands on his knees, he asked, “Could you tell me, sir, why you’re treating me in such a friendly manner? And if you don’t mind, why you were inquiring about me out on the highroad.”
“I suppose it’s only natural for you to wonder, but there’s really very little to explain. Perhaps the simplest way to put it is that I have a sort of crush on you.” He paused for a moment, laughed and went on: “Yes, it’s a matter of infatuation, a case of one man being attracted to another.”
Geki seemed to feel this was sufficient explanation, but Musashi was more mystified than ever. While it did not seem impossible for one man to be enamored of another, he himself had never experienced such an attachment. Takuan was too severe to inspire strong affection. Kōetsu lived in an entirely different world. Sekishūsai occupied a plane so far above Musashi’s that either liking or disliking was inconceivable. Though it could be Geki’s way of flattering him, a man who made such statements opened himself to the charge of insincerity. Still, Musashi doubted that this samurai was a sycophant; he was too solid, too manly in appearance, for that.
“Precisely what do you mean,” Musashi asked with a sober air, “when you say you are attracted to me?”
“Perhaps I’m being presumptuous, but ever since I heard of your feat at Ichijōji, I’ve been convinced that you’re a man I would like, and like very much.”
“Were you in Kyoto then?”
“Yes, I arrived during the first month of the year and was staying at Lord Date’s residence on Sanjō Avenue. When I happened to drop in on Lord Karasumaru Mitsuhiro the day after the fight, I heard quite a bit about you. He said he’d met you and remarked on your youth and what you’d been doing in the past. Feeling this strong attraction, I resolved that I must make an effort to meet you. On my way from Kyoto, I saw the sign you put up at Shiojiri Pass.”
“Oh, you saw that?” Ironic, thought Musashi, that instead of bringing him Jōtarō, the sign had brought him someone of whose existence he had never dreamed.
But the more he considered the matter, the less he felt he deserved the esteem in which Geki seemed to hold him. Painfully conscious of his own mistakes and failures, he found Geki’s adulation embarrassing.
With perfect honesty, he said, “I think you’re rating me too highly.”
“There are a number of outstanding samurai serving under Lord Date—his fief has an income of five million bushels, you know—and in time I’ve met many a skilled swordsman. But from what I’ve heard, it would seem that few can be compared with you. What’s more, you’re still very young. You have your whole future before you. And that, I suppose, is why you appeal to me. Anyway, now that I’ve found you, let’s be friends. Have a drink, and talk about anything that interests you.”
Musashi accepted the sake cup in good humor and began matching his host drink for drink. Before long, his face was bright red.
Geki, still going strong, said, “We samurai from the north can drink a lot. We do it to stay warm. Lord Date can outdrink any of us. With a strong general in the lead, it wouldn’t do for the troops to fall behind.”
The maid kept bringing more sake. Even after she’d trimmed the lamp wick several times, Geki showed no inclination to stop. “Let’s drink all night,” he suggested. “That way, we can talk all night.”
“Fine,” agreed Musashi. Then, with a smile: “You said you’d talked to Lord Karasumaru. Do you know him well?”
“You couldn’t say we’re close friends, but over the years I’ve been to his house