Musashi - Eiji Yoshikawa [398]
Musashi, filled and warmed by the hot food, began to worry about the bill. He’d hesitated discussing it with the proprietor first, due to the presence of the other men, but he didn’t for a moment feel he was begging. It had simply seemed more important to tend to his stomach’s needs first. He made up his mind that if the shopkeeper would not accept the statue, he’d offer him his dagger.
“I’m sorry to have to tell you this,” he began, “but I don’t have any cash at all. I’m not asking for a free meal, mind you. I have something here to offer in payment, if you’ll take it.”
With unexpected amiability, the proprietor replied, “I’m sure that’ll be all right. What is it?”
“A statue of Kannon.”
“A real statue?”
“Oh, it’s not the work of a famous sculptor—just something I carved myself. It may not be worth even the price of a bowl of rice, but take a look at it anyway.”
As he began untying the cords of his bag, the one he had carried for years, the three men left off drinking and focused their attention on his hands. Besides the statue, the bag contained a single change of underwear and a writing set. When he emptied out the contents, something fell with a clunk to the ground. The others gasped, for the object that lay at Musashi’s feet was a money pouch, from which several gold and silver coins had spilled out. Musashi himself stared in speechless amazement.
“Where did that come from?” he wondered.
The other men craned their necks to gape at the treasure.
Feeling something else in the bag, Musashi pulled out a letter. It consisted of a single line, saying, “This should take care of your travel expenses for the time being,” and was signed “Geki.”
Musashi had a pretty clear idea of what it meant: it was Geki’s way of trying to buy his services for Lord Date Masamune of Sendai and Aoba Castle. The increasing probability of a final clash between the Tokugawas and the Toyotomis made it imperative for the great daimyō to maintain sizable numbers of able fighters. A favorite method used in the cutthroat competition for the few really outstanding samurai was to attempt to get such men in debt, even for a small sum, and then forge a tacit agreement for future cooperation.
It was common knowledge that Toyotomi Hideyori was providing large sums of money to Gotō Matabei and Sanada Yukimura. Though Yukimura was ostensibly in retirement on Mount Kudo, so much gold and silver was being sent to him from Osaka Castle that Ieyasu had undertaken a full-scale investigation. Since the personal requirements of a retired general living in a hermitage were fairly modest, it was all but certain that the money was being passed on to several thousand indigent rōnin, who were idling away their time in nearby towns and cities waiting for the outbreak of hostilities.
Finding an able warrior, as Geki believed he had, and somehow enticing him into his lord’s service was one of the most valuable services a retainer could perform. And it was for just this reason that Musashi had no interest in Geki’s money: using it would incur an unwanted obligation. In a matter of seconds, he decided to ignore the gift, to pretend it did not exist.
Without a word he reached down, picked up the pouch and restored it to his bag. Addressing the proprietor as though nothing had happened, he said, “All right then, I’ll leave the statue here in payment.”
But the man balked. “I can’t accept that now, sir!”
“Is there something wrong with it? I don’t claim to be a sculptor, but—”
“Oh, it’s not bad, and I would have taken it if you didn’t have any money, like you said, but you’ve got plenty. Why do you throw your cash around for people to see if you want them to think you’re broke?”
The other customers, sobered and thrilled by the sight of the gold, vigorously nodded their agreement. Musashi, recognizing the futility of arguing that the money was not his, took out a piece of silver and handed it to the man.
“This is far too much, sir,” complained the proprietor. “Don’t you have anything smaller?”
A cursory examination revealed some variation in the worth