Musashi - Eiji Yoshikawa [475]
But Jūrō, instead of answering, used his last tearful breath to say, “Mother … sorry … shouldn’t have …”
“What are you talking about?” snorted Kojirō, letting go of the bloody garment.
“Kojirō! Kojirō, is that you?”
Running in the direction of Osugi’s voice, he saw the old woman lying helpless in a ditch, straw and vegetable peelings clinging to her face and hair. “Get me out of here,” she pleaded.
“What are you doing in that filthy water?”
Kojirō, sounding more angry than sympathetic, yanked her unceremoniously out onto the road, where she collapsed like a rag.
“Where did the man go?” she asked, taking the words out of his mouth. “What man? Who attacked you?”
“I don’t know exactly what happened, but I’m sure it was the man who was following us.”
“Did he attack suddenly?”
“Yes! Out of nowhere, like a gust of wind. There was no time to speak. He jumped out of the shadows and got Jūrō first. By the time Koroku drew his sword, he was wounded too.”
“Which way did he go?”
“He shoved me aside, so I didn’t even see him, but the footsteps went that way.” She pointed toward the river.
Running across a vacant lot where the horse market was held, Kojirō came to the dike at Yanagihara and stopped to look around. Some distance away, he could see piles of lumber, lights and people.
When he got closer, he saw they were palanquin bearers. “My two companions have been struck down in a side street near here,” he said. “I want you to pick them up and take them to the house of Hangawara Yajibei in the carpenters’ district. You’ll find an old woman with them. Take her too.”
“Were they attacked by robbers?”
“Are there robbers around here?”
“Packs of them. Even we have to be careful.”
“Whoever it was must have come running out from that corner over there. Didn’t you see anyone?”
“Just now, you mean?”
“Yes.”
“I’m leaving,” said the bearer. He and the others picked up three palanquins and prepared to depart.
“What about the fare?” asked one.
“Collect it when you get there.”
Kojirō made a quick search of the riverbank and around the stacks of lumber, deciding as he did so that he’d do just as well to go back to Yajibei’s house. There was little point in meeting Musashi without Osugi; it also seemed unwise to face the man in his present state of mind.
Starting back, he came to a firebreak, along one side of which grew a row of paulownia trees. He looked at it for a minute, then as he turned away, he saw the glint of a blade among the trees. Before he knew it, half a dozen leaves fell. The sword had been aimed at his head.
“Yellow-livered coward!” he shouted.
“Not me!” came the reply as the sword struck out a second time from the darkness.
Kojirō whirled and jumped back a full seven feet. “If you’re Musashi, why don’t you use the proper—” Before he could finish, the sword was at him again. “Who are you?” he shouted. “Aren’t you making a mistake?”
He dodged a third stroke successfully, and the attacker, badly winded, realized before attempting a fourth that he was wasting his effort. Changing tactics, he began inching forward with his blade extended before him. His eyes were shooting fire. “Silence,” he growled. “There’s no mistake at all. Perhaps it’ll refresh your memory if you know my name. I’m Hōjō Shinzō.”
“You’re one of Obata’s students, aren’t you?”
“You insulted my master and killed several of my comrades.”
“By the warrior’s code, you’re free to challenge me openly at any time. Sasaki Kojirō doesn’t play hide-and-seek.”
“I’ll kill you.”
“Go ahead and try.”
As Kojirō watched him close the distance—twelve feet, eleven, ten—he quietly loosened the upper part of his kimono and placed his right hand on his sword. “Come on!” he cried.
The challenge caused an involuntary hesitation on Shinzō’s part, a momentary wavering. Kojirō’s body bent forward, his arm snapped like a bow, and there was a metallic ring. The next instant, his sword clicked sharply