Musashi - Eiji Yoshikawa [513]
Toranosuke, his wooden sword poised in front of him, shouted to the student, “On guard.” Then he pressed forward, his footsteps resounding sharply on the floor. Just as the two reached the north corner, the student did a somersault and his wooden sword went sailing through the air.
Toranosuke turned and said, “Who are you talking about? Kojirō?” “Yes, he’s just inside the gate. He’ll be here any minute.”
“Much sooner than I expected. Taking the old lady hostage was a good idea.”
“What do you plan to do now? Who’s going to greet him? It should be someone who’s prepared for anything. If he has the nerve to come here alone, he may try a surprise move.”
“Have him brought to the dōjō. I’ll greet him myself. The rest of you stay in the background and keep quiet.”
“At least there’re plenty of us here,” said Kajūrō. Looking around, he was encouraged to see the faces of stalwarts like Kamei Hyōsuke, Negoro Hachikurō and Itō Magobei. There were also about twenty others; they had no idea of Kojirō’s way of thinking, but they all knew why Toranosuke wanted him here.
One of the two men Kojirō had killed near the Donjiki was Toranosuke’s elder brother. Though he was a good-for-nothing, not well thought of at school, his death nevertheless had to be avenged because of the blood relationship.
Despite his youth and his modest income, Toranosuke was a samurai to be reckoned with in Edo. Like the Tokugawas, he came originally from Mikawa Province, and his family was numbered among the oldest of the shōgun’s hereditary vassals. He was also one of the “four generals of Saikachi Slope,” the others being Kamei, Negoro and Itō.
When Toranosuke had come home the night before with Osugi, the consensus was that he had scored a noteworthy coup. Now it would be difficult for Kojirō not to show his face. The men vowed that if he did appear, they would beat him within an inch of his life, cut off his nose and hang him on a tree by the Kanda River for all to see. But they were by no means certain he’d show up; in fact, they had placed wagers on it, the majority betting that he wouldn’t.
Assembling in the main room of the dōjō, they left the floor space open in the middle and waited anxiously.
After a time, one man asked Kajūrō, “Are you sure it was Kojirō you saw?” “Absolutely sure.”
They sat in formidable array. Their faces, woodenly stiff at first, were now showing signs of strain. Some feared that if this kept up much longer, they would fall victim to their own tenseness. Just as the breaking point seemed near, the rapid patter of sandals came to a halt outside the dressing room, and the face of another student, standing on tiptoe, appeared in the window.
“Listen! There’s no sense in waiting here. Kojirō’s not coming.”
“What do you mean? Kajūrō just saw him.”
“Yes, but he went straight to the house. How he got admitted, I don’t know, but he’s in the guest room talking with the master.”
“The master?” echoed the group with a collective gasp.
“Are you telling the truth?” demanded Toranosuke, the look on his face close to consternation. He strongly suspected that if the circumstances of his brother’s death were investigated, it would turn out that he’d been up to no good, but he’d glossed over this in relating the incident to Tadaaki. And if his master knew he’d abducted Osugi, it wasn’t because he himself had told him.
“If you don’t believe me, go look.”
“What a mess!” groaned Toranosuke.
Far from sympathizing with him, his fellow students were annoyed by his lack of decisiveness.
Advising the others to keep cool while they went to see what the situation was, Kamei and Negoro were just stepping into their zōri when an attractive, light-complexioned girl came running out of the house. Recognizing Omitsu, they stopped where they were and the others rushed to the doorway.
“All of you,” she cried in an excited, shrill