Musashi - Eiji Yoshikawa [43]
On the evening of the third day, as on the previous nights, they kept vigil by the fireside.
“Takuan,” Otsū finally blurted, “this is our last night, you know. Our time is up tomorrow.”
“Hmm. That’s true, isn’t it?”
“Well, what do you plan to do?”
“Do about what?”
“Oh, don’t be so difficult! You do remember, don’t you, the promise you made to the captain?”
“Why, yes, of course!”
“Well, if we don’t bring Takezō back—”
He interrupted her. “I know, I know. I’ll have to hang myself from the old cryptomeria tree. But don’t worry. I’m not ready to die just yet.”
“Then why don’t you go and look for him?”
“If I did, do you really think I’d find him? In these mountains?”
“Oh, I don’t understand you at all! And yet somehow, just sitting here, I feel
like I’m getting braver, mustering up the nerve to let things turn out whatever
way they will.” She laughed. “Or maybe I’m just going crazy, like you.” “I’m not crazy. I just have nerve. That’s what it takes.”
“Tell me, Takuan, was it nerve and nothing else that made you take this on?”
“Yes.”
“Nothing but nerve! That’s not very encouraging. I thought you must have some foolproof scheme up your sleeve.”
Otsū had been on her way toward sharing her companion’s confidence, but his disclosure that he was operating on sheer audacity sent her into a fit of despondency. Was he totally insane? Sometimes people who are not quite right in the mind are taken by others to be geniuses. Takuan might be one of those. Otsū was beginning to think this was a distinct possibility.
The monk, serene as ever, continued to gaze absently into the fire. Presently he mumbled, as though he’d just noticed, “It’s very late, isn’t it?”
“It certainly is! It’ll be dawn soon, ” snapped Otsū with deliberate tartness. Why had she trusted this suicidal lunatic?
Paying no attention to the sharpness of her response, he muttered, “Funny, isn’t it?”
“What are you muttering about, Takuan?”
“It just occurred to me that Takezō has to show up pretty soon.”
“Yes, but maybe he doesn’t realize you two have an appointment.” Looking
at the monk’s unsmiling face, she softened. “Do you really think he will?” “Of course I do!”
“But why would he just walk right into a trap?”
“It’s not exactly that. It has to do with human nature, that’s all. People aren’t strong at heart, they’re weak. And solitude is not their natural state, particularly when it involves being surrounded by enemies and chased with swords. You may think it’s natural, but I’d be very much surprised if Takezō manages to resist the temptation to pay us a call and warm himself by the fire.”
“Isn’t that just wishful thinking? He may be nowhere near here.”
Takuan shook his head and said, “No, it is not just wishful thinking. It isn’t even my own theory, it’s that of a master of strategy.” He spoke so confidently that Otsū found herself relieved that his disagreement was so definite.
“I suspect that Shimmen Takezō is somewhere very close by, but hasn’t yet decided whether we’re friends or enemies. He’s probably plagued, poor boy, by a multitude of doubts, struggling with them, unable to advance or retreat. It’d be my guess he’s hiding in the shadows right now, looking out at us furtively, wondering desperately what to do. Ah, I know. Let me have the flute you carry in your obi!”
“My bamboo flute?”
“Yes, let me play it for a while.”
“No. Impossible. I never let anyone touch it.”
“Why?” Takuan insisted.
“Never mind why!” she cried with a shake of her head.
“What harm would it do to let me use it? Flutes improve the more they’re played. I won’t hurt it.”
“But … ” Otsū clasped her right hand firmly on