Musashi - Eiji Yoshikawa [504]
“Then you’ve been here only a short time?”
“Yes. Although I’ve met Hidetada twice at the Daitokuji and been summoned into Ieyasu’s presence a number of times, this is my first trip to Edo. And what about you?”
“I’ve been here only since the beginning of this summer.”
“It seems you’ve made quite a name for yourself in this part of the country.” Musashi didn’t try to justify himself. He hung his head and said, “I suppose you’ve heard about that.”
Takuan stared at him for a few moments, seemingly comparing him with the Takezō of old. “Why worry about that? It’d be strange if a man your age had too good a reputation. So long as you haven’t done anything disloyal or ignoble or rebellious, what does it matter? I’m more interested in hearing about your training.”
Musashi gave a brief account of his recent experiences and ended by saying, “I’m afraid I’m still immature, imprudent—far from being truly enlightened. The more I travel, the longer the road becomes. I have the feeling I’m climbing an endless mountain path.”
“That’s the way it has to be,” said Takuan, clearly pleased with the youth’s integrity and humility. “If a man not yet thirty claims to know the least bit about the Way, it’s an unmistakable sign his growth has stopped. Even I still shudder with embarrassment when anyone suggests that an uncouth priest like me could know the ultimate meaning of Zen. It’s disconcerting, the way people are always asking me to tell them about the Buddhist Law or explain the true teachings. People try to look up to a priest as a living Buddha. Be thankful that others don’t overestimate you, that you don’t have to pay attention to appearances.”
While the two men happily renewed their friendship, servants arrived with food and drink. Presently Takuan said, “Forgive me, your lordship. I’m afraid we’re forgetting something. Why don’t you call your other guest in?”
Musashi was certain now that he knew who the fourth person was, but elected to remain silent.
Hesitating slightly, Ujikatsu said, “Shall I call him?” Then, to Musashi, “I’ll have to admit you saw through our little trick. As the one who planned it, I feel rather ashamed.”
Takuan laughed. “Good for you! I’m glad to see you’re up to admitting defeat. But why not? It was only a game to amuse everybody anyway, wasn’t it? Certainly nothing for the master of the Hōjō Style to lose face over.”
“Well, no doubt I was defeated,” murmured Ujikatsu, reluctance still in his voice. “The truth is that although I’ve heard what sort of man you are, I had no way of knowing just how well trained and disciplined you are. I thought I’d see for myself, and my other guest agreed to cooperate. When you stopped in the passageway, he was waiting in ambush, ready to draw his sword.” His lordship seemed to regret having had to put Musashi to the test. “But you perceived you were being lured into a trap and came across the garden.” Looking directly at Musashi, he asked, “May I ask why you did that?”
Musashi merely grinned.
Takuan spoke up. “It’s the difference, your lordship, between the military strategist and the swordsman.”
“Is it, now?”
“It’s a matter of instinctive responses—that of a military scholar, based on intellectual principles, versus that of a man who follows the Way of the Sword, based on the heart. You reasoned that if you led Musashi on, he’d follow. Yet without being able to actually see, or to put his finger on anything definite, Musashi sensed danger and moved to protect himself. His reaction was spontaneous, instinctive.”
“Instinctive?”
“Like a Zen revelation.”
“Do you have premonitions like that?”
“I can’t really say.