Musashi - Eiji Yoshikawa [466]
Hyōgo broke the silence, saying, “Leave the matter to Sukekurō and me. We’ll work out some solution that won’t be too hard on Otsū.”
Munenori nodded, saying, “The sooner the better.”
Sukekurō entered the anteroom just then, and placing a letter box on the tatami, knelt and bowed. “Your lordship,” he said respectfully.
Turning his eyes toward the anteroom, Munenori asked, “What is it?” Sukekurō moved forward on his knees.
“A courier from Koyagyū has just arrived by fast horse.”
“Fast horse?” said Munenori quickly, but without surprise.
Hyōgo accepted the box from Sukekurō and handed it to his uncle. Munenori opened the letter, which was from Shōda Kizaemon. Written in haste, it said: “The Old Lord has had another spell, worse than any previous. We fear he may not last long. He stoutly insists his illness is not sufficient reason for you to leave your duties. However, after discussing the matter among ourselves, we retainers decided to write and inform you of the situation.”
“His condition is critical,” said Munenori.
Hyōgo admired his uncle’s ability to remain calm. He surmised that Munenori knew exactly what was to be done and had already made the necessary decisions.
After some minutes of silence, Munenori said, “Hyōgo, will you go to Koyagyū in my stead?”
“Of course, sir.”
“I want you to assure my father there’s nothing to worry about in Edo. And I want you to look after him personally.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I suppose it’s all in the hands of the gods and the Buddha now. All you can do is hurry and try to get there before it’s too late.”
“I’ll leave tonight.”
From Lord Munenori’s room, Hyōgo went immediately to his own. During the short time it took him to lay out the few things he would need, the bad news spread to every corner of the house.
Otsū quietly went to Hyōgo’s room, dressed, to his surprise, for traveling. Her eyes were moist. “Please take me with you,” she pleaded. “I can never hope to repay Lord Sekishūsai for taking me into his home, but I’d like to be with him and see if I can be of some assistance. I hope you won’t refuse.”
Hyōgo considered it possible that his uncle might have refused her, but he himself did not have the heart to. Perhaps it was a blessing that this opportunity to take her away from the house in Edo had presented itself.
“All right,” he agreed, “but it’ll have to be a fast journey.”
“I promise I won’t slow you down.” Drying her tears, she helped him finish packing and then went to pay her respects to Lord Munenori.
“Oh, are you going to accompany Hyōgo?” he said, mildly surprised. “That’s very kind of you. I’m sure my father will be pleased to see you.” He made a point of giving her ample travel money and a new kimono as a going-away present. Despite his conviction that it was for the best, her departure saddened him.
She bowed herself out of his presence. “Take good care of yourself,” he said with feeling, as she reached the anteroom.
The vassals and servants lined up along the path to the gate to see them off, and with a simple “Farewell” from Hyōgo, they were on their way.
Otsū had folded her kimono up under her obi, so the hem reached only five or six inches below her knees. On her head was a broad-brimmed lacquered traveling hat and in her right hand she carried a stick. Had her shoulders been draped with blossoms, she would have been the image of the Wisteria Girl so often seen in woodblock prints.
Since Hyōgo had decided to hire conveyances at the stations along the highroad, their goal tonight was the inn town of Sangen’ya, south of Shibuya. From there, his plan was to proceed along the Oyama highroad to the Tama River, take the ferry across, and follow the Tōkaidō to Kyoto.
In the night mist, it was not long before Otsū’s lacquered hat glistened with moisture. After walking through a grassy river valley,