Musashi - Eiji Yoshikawa [421]
The samurai stood up and stretched. “It’s just like the Iwakuni River,” he said. “Reminds me of home.” For a few moments he gazed idly at the wide stream and a flock of white-bellied swallows swooping and skimming the water. Then he turned and walked rapidly downstream.
He made straight for Yajibei’s boat, but as he began untying it, Jūrō and Koroku came running out of the forest.
“Wait! What do you think you’re doing?” shouted Jūrō, who was now close enough to see the blood on the samurai’s hakama and sandal thongs but took no notice of it.
Dropping the rope, the samurai grinned and asked, “Can’t I use the boat?” “Of course not,” snapped Jūrō.
“Suppose I paid to use it?”
“Don’t talk nonsense.” The voice brusquely refusing the samurai’s request was Jūrō’s, but in a sense, it was the whole brash new city of Edo speaking fearlessly through his mouth.
The samurai did not apologize, but neither did he resort to force. He turned and walked off without another word.
“Kojirō! Kojirō! Wait!” Osugi called at the top of her lungs.
When Kojirō saw who it was, the grimness vanished from his face and he broke into a friendly smile. “Why, what are you doing here? I’ve been wondering what happened to you.”
“I’m here to pay my respects to Kanzeon. I came with Hangawara Yajibei and these two young men. Yajibei’s letting me stay at his house in Bakurōchō.”
“When was it I saw you last? Let’s see—Mount Hiei. You said then you were going to Edo, so I thought I might run into you. I hardly expected it to be here.” He glanced at Jūrō and Koroku, who were in a state of shock. “You mean those two there?”
“Oh, they’re just a couple of ruffians, but their boss is a very fine man.”
Yajibei was just as thunderstruck as everybody else to see his guest chatting amiably with the awesome samurai. He was on the spot in no time, bowing to Kojirō and saying, “I’m afraid my boys spoke very rudely to you, sir. I hope you’ll forgive them. We’re just ready to leave. Perhaps you’d like to ride downstream with us.”
Shavings
Like most people thrown together by circumstance, who ordinarily have little or nothing in common, the samurai and his host soon found mutual ground. The supply of sake was plentiful, the fish fresh, and Osugi and Kojirō had an odd spiritual kinship that kept the atmosphere from getting stickily formal. It was with genuine concern that she inquired about his career as a shugyōsha and he about her progress in achieving her “great ambition.”
When she told him she’d had no word of Musashi’s whereabouts for a long time, Kojirō offered a ray of hope. “I heard a rumor that he visited two or three prominent warriors last fall and winter. I have a hunch he’s still in Edo.”
Yajibei wasn’t so sure, of course, and told Kojirō that his men had learned absolutely nothing. After they had discussed Osugi’s predicament from every angle, Yajibei said, “I hope we can count on your continued friendship.”
Kojirō responded in the same vein and made rather a display of rinsing out his cup and offering it not only to Yajibei but to his two minions, for each of whom he poured a drink.
Osugi was positively exhilarated. “They say,” she observed gravely, “that good is to be found wherever one looks. Even so, I’m exceptionally lucky! To think that I have two strong men like you on my side! I’m sure the great Kanzeon is looking after me.” She made no attempt to conceal her sniffling or the tears that came to her eyes.
Not wanting the conversation to get maudlin, Yajibei said, “Tell me, Kojirō, who were the four men you cut down back there?”
This seemed to be the opportunity Kojirō had been waiting for, for his agile tongue set to work without delay. “Oh, them!” he began with a nonchalant laugh. “Just some rōnin from Obata’s school. I went there five or six times to discuss military matters with Obata, and those fellows kept butting in with impertinent remarks. They even had