Musashi - Eiji Yoshikawa [404]
A group of travelers was taking a rest above Kobotoke Pass. One of them exclaimed, “Look, there’s another batch,” referring to a sight he and his companions had been enjoying almost daily—a group of prostitutes on their way from Kyoto to Edo.
The girls numbered about thirty, some old, some in their twenties or early thirties, at least five in their middle teens. Together with about ten men who managed or served them, they resembled a large. patriarchal family. There were in addition several packhorses loaded down with everything from small wicker baskets to man-sized wooden chests.
The head of the “family,” a man of about forty, was addressing his girls. “If your straw sandals are giving you blisters, change into zōri, but tie them tight so they don’t slip around. And stop complaining that you can’t walk any farther. Just look at the children on the road, the children!” It was clear from his acid tone that he was having a hard time forcing his usually sedentary charges to keep moving.
The man, whose name was Shōji Jinnai, was a native of Fushimi, a samurai by birth, who had for reasons of his own abandoned the military life to become a brothel keeper. Being both quick-witted and resourceful, he had succeeded in gaining the support of Tokugawa Ieyasu, who often took up residence at Fushimi Castle, and had not only obtained permission to move his own business to Edo but had also persuaded many of his colleagues in the trade to do likewise.
Near the crest of Kobotoke, Jinnai brought his procession to a halt, saying, “It’s still a little early, but we can have our lunch now.” Turning to Onao, an old woman who functioned as a sort of mother hen, he ordered her to pass out the food.
The basket containing the box lunches was duly unloaded from one of the horses and a leaf-wrapped ball of rice dealt out to each of the women, who scattered themselves about and relaxed. The dust that had yellowed their skin had also turned their black hair nearly white, though they wore broad-brimmed traveling hats or had tied hand towels around their heads. There being no tea, eating entailed a good deal of lip smacking and tooth sucking. There was no suggestion of sexual wiles or amorous thrills. “Whose arms will embrace this red, red blossom tonight?” seemed utterly beside the point.
“Oh, this is delicious!” cried one of Jinnai’s younger charges ecstatically. Her tone of voice would have brought tears to her mother’s eyes.
The attention of two or three others wandered from their lunch to focus on a young samurai passing by.
“Isn’t he handsome?” whispered one.
“Umm, not bad,” replied another, of more worldly outlook.
A third volunteered, “Oh, I know him. He used to come to our place with men from the Yoshioka School.”
“Which one are you talking about?” asked one lustful-eyed creature. “The young one, strutting along there with the long sword on his back.”
Unaware of the admiration, Sasaki Kojirō was pushing his way through a throng of porters and packhorses.
A high, flirtatious voice called, “Mr. Sasaki! Over here, Mr. Sasaki!” Since there were lots of people named Sasaki, he didn’t even turn. “You with the forelock!”
Kojirō’s eyebrows shot up, and he spun around.
“Watch your tongues!” Jinnai shouted angrily. “You’re being rude.” Then, glancing up from his lunch, he recognized Kojirō.
“Well, well,” he said, rising quickly. “If it isn’t our friend Sasaki! Where are you headed, if I may ask?”
“Why, hello. You’re the master of the Sumiya, aren’t you? I’m going to Edo. And what about you? You seem to be engaged in a full-scale move.”
“That we are. We’re moving to the new capital.”
“Really? Do you think you can make a go of it there?”
“Nothing grows in stagnant waters.”
“The way Edo’s growing, I imagine there’s plenty of work for construction workers and gunsmiths. But elegant entertainment? It seems doubtful there