Musashi - Eiji Yoshikawa [505]
“In any case, I’ve learned a lesson. The average samurai, sensing danger, might have lost his head, or perhaps seized upon the trap as an excuse to display his prowess with the sword. When I saw Musashi go back, put on the sandals and cross the garden, I was deeply impressed.”
Musashi kept his silence, his face revealing no special pleasure at Lord Ujikatsu’s words of praise. His thoughts turned to the man still standing outside in the dark, stranded by the victim’s failure to fall into the trap.
Addressing his host, he said, “May I request that the Lord of Tajima take his place among us now?”
“What’s that?” Ujikatsu was astonished, as was Takuan. “How did you know?”
Moving back to give Yagyū Munenori the place of honor, Musashi said, “Despite the darkness, I felt the presence of peerless swordsmanship. Taking into consideration the other faces present, I don’t see how it could be anyone else.”
“You’ve done it again!” Ujikatsu was amazed.
At a nod from him, Takuan said, “The Lord of Tajima. Quite right.” Turning to the door, he called, “Your secret is out, Lord Munenori. Won’t you join us?”
There was a loud laugh, and Munenori appeared in the doorway. Instead of arranging himself comfortably in front of the alcove, he knelt in front of Musashi and greeted him as an equal, saying, “My name is Mataemon Munenori. I hope you will remember me.”
“It is an honor to meet you. I am a rōnin from Mimasaka, Miyamoto Musashi by name. I pray for your guidance in the future.”
“Kimura Sukekurō mentioned you to me some months ago, but at the time I was busy because of my father’s illness.”
“How is Lord Sekishūsai?”
“Well, he’s very old. There’s no way of knowing …” After a brief pause, he continued with warm cordiality: “My father told me about you in a letter, and I’ve heard Takuan speak of you several times. I must say your reaction a few minutes ago was admirable. If you don’t mind, I think we should regard the bout you requested as having taken place. I hope you’re not offended by my unorthodox way of carrying it out.”
Musashi’s impression was of intelligence and maturity quite in accordance with the daimyō’s reputation.
“I’m embarrassed by your thoughtfulness,” he replied, bowing very low. His show of deference was natural, for Lord Munenori’s status was so far above Musashi’s as to put him virtually in another world. Though his fief amounted to only fifty thousand bushels, his family had been famous as provincial magistrates since the tenth century. To most people, it would have seemed odd to find one of the shōgun’s tutors in the same room with Musashi, let alone talking to him in a friendly, informal fashion. It was a relief to Musashi to note that neither Ujikatsu, a scholar and member of the shōgun’s banner guard, nor Takuan, a country priest by origin, felt any constraint because of Munenori’s rank.
Warm sake was brought, cups were exchanged, talk and laughter ensued. Differences in age and class were forgotten. Musashi knew he was being accepted in this select circle not because of who he was. He was seeking the Way, just as they were. It was the Way that permitted such free camaraderie.
At one point, Takuan set down his cup and asked Musashi, “What’s become of Otsū.”
Reddening slightly, Musashi said he hadn’t seen or heard anything of her for some time.
“Nothing at all?”
“Nothing.”
“That’s unfortunate. You can’t leave her in the lurch forever, you know. It’s not good for you, either.”
“By Otsū,” asked Munenori, “do you mean the girl who once stayed with my father in Koyagyū?”
“Yes,” replied Takuan on Musashi’s behalf.
“I know where she is. She went to Koyagyū with my nephew Hyōgo to help nurse my father.”
With a noted military scientist and Takuan present, thought Musashi, they could be talking about strategy or discussing Zen. With both Munenori and Musashi present, the subject could have been swords.
With a nod of apology to Musashi, Takuan told the others about Otsū and her relationship with Musashi. “Sooner or later,” he concluded, “someone will have to bring the two of you together