Musashi - Eiji Yoshikawa [394]
While Musashi listened attentively, Geki became absorbed in his monologue, describing his master in glowing terms and assuring Musashi that he was unexcelled in his single-minded devotion to the nation and the Emperor.
For a time he forgot about drinking but then suddenly looked down and said, “The sake’s cold.” Clapping his hands for the maid, he was about to order more.
Musashi hurriedly interrupted. “I’ve had more than enough. If you don’t mind, I’d rather have some rice and tea now.”
“Already?” mumbled Geki. He was obviously disappointed but, out of deference to his guest, told the girl to bring the rice.
Geki continued to talk as they ate. The impression Musashi formed of the spirit that seemed to prevail among the samurai of Lord Date’s fief was that, as individuals and as a group, they were vitally concerned with the Way of the Samurai and with the problem of disciplining themselves in accordance with the Way.
This Way had existed since ancient times, when the warrior class had come into being, but its moral values and obligations were now little more than a vague memory. During the chaotic domestic strife of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, the ethics of the military man had been distorted, if not totally ignored, and now almost anyone who could wield a sword or shoot an arrow from a bow was regarded as a samurai, regardless of the attention—or lack of it—given to the deeper meaning of the Way.
The self-styled samurai of the day were often men of lower character and baser instincts than common peasants or townsmen. Having nothing but brawn and technique to command the respect-of those beneath them, they were in the long run doomed to destruction. There were few daimyō capable of seeing this, and only a handful of the higher vassals of the Tokugawas and the Toyotomis gave any thought to establishing a new Way of the Samurai, which could become the foundation of the nation’s strength and prosperity.
Musashi’s thoughts returned to the years when he had been confined in Himeji Castle. Takuan, remembering that Lord Ikeda had in his library a handwritten copy of Nichiyō Shūshin-kan by Fushikian, had taken it out for Musashi to study. Fushikian was the literary name of the celebrated general Uesugi Kenshin; in his book, he recorded points of daily ethical training for the guidance of his chief vassals. From this, Musashi had not only learned about Kenshin’s personal activities but also gained an understanding of why Kenshin’s fief in Echigo had come to be known throughout the country for its wealth and military prowess.
Swayed by Geki’s enthusiastic descriptions, he began to feel that Lord Date, besides equaling Kenshin in integrity, had created in his domain an atmosphere in which samurai were encouraged to develop a new Way, one that would enable them to resist even the shogunate, should that become necessary.
“You must forgive me for going on and on about matters of personal interest,” said Geki. “What do you think, Musashi? Wouldn’t you like to come to Sendai, see for yourself? His lordship is honest and straightforward. If you’re striving to find the Way, your present status doesn’t matter to him. You can talk with him as you would with any other man.
“There’s a great need for samurai who will devote their lives to their country. I’ll be more than happy to recommend you. If it’s all right with you, we can go to Sendai together.”
By this time the dinner trays had been removed, but Geki’s ardor was in no way diminished. Impressed, but still cautious, Musashi replied, “I’ll have to give it some thought before I can reply.”
After they had said good night, Musashi went to his room, where he lay awake in the dark, his eyes glistening.
The Way of the Samurai. He concentrated on this concept as it applied to himself and to his sword.
Suddenly he saw the truth: the techniques of a swordsman were not his goal; he sought an all-embracing Way of the Sword. The sword was to be far more than a simple weapon; it had to be an