Musashi - Eiji Yoshikawa [551]
“Who needs a fire? I rode all the way from Musashino without stopping.” “You seem in good spirits. Where did you stay last night?”
“At the house. Sensei’s back!”
“I heard he was or soon would be.”
“You already knew?”
“Takuan told me. Iori, have you heard the news?”
“What news?”
“Your teacher’s going to be a great man. It’s a wonderful stroke of luck for him. He’s going to be one of the shōgun’s teachers. He’ll be the founder of his own school of swordsmanship.”
“Do you mean that?”
“Does it make you happy?”
“Of course—happier than anything. Can I borrow the horse?”
“Now? You just came back.”
“I’ll go and tell him.”
“You don’t have to do that. Before the day’s out, the Council of Elders will issue a formal summons. As soon as we receive word, I’ll go myself and tell Musashi.”
“Will he come here?”
“Yes,” Shinzō assured him. With a last look at the dying fire, he started toward the house, cheered a bit by Iori but worried about the fate of his angry friends.
The summons was not long in coming. A messenger arrived about two hours later with a letter for Takuan and an order for Musashi to appear the following day at the Reception Pavilion just outside Wadakura Gate. After his appointment was confirmed, he would be received in audience by the shōgun.
When Shinzō, with an attendant, reached the house on Musashino Plain, he found Musashi sitting in the sun with a kitten on his lap, talking with Gonnosuke.
Words were few. Shinzo said only, “I’ve come for you.”
“Thanks,” said Musashi. “I was about to call you to thank you for looking after Iori.”
Without further ado, he mounted the horse Shinzō had brought along for him and they returned to Ushigome.
That evening, as he sat with Takuan and Lord Ujikatsu, he felt immensely fortunate to be able to regard these men, as well as Shinzō, as true friends.
In the morning, Musashi awoke to find clothes suitable to the occasion already laid out for him, together with such things as a fan and tissue paper. And at breakfast, Lord Ujikatsu said to him, “It’s a great day. You should rejoice.” The meal included rice with red beans, a whole sea bream for each person and other dishes served only on festive occasions. The menu was very much as it would have been for a coming-of-age ceremony in the Hōjō family.
Musashi wanted to refuse the appointment. In Chichibu, he had reconsidered his two years in Hōtengahara and his ambition to put his swordsmanship to work in the interest of good government. Now the belief that Edo, not to speak of the rest of the country, was ready for the type of ideal government he envisioned seemed less tenable. The sanctity of the Way and the application of the principles of swordsmanship for the sake of peace seemed no more than lofty ideals, at least until either Edo or Osaka succeeded in consolidating its rule over the whole country. And he hadn’t made up his mind on another point: if the final battle were to come tomorrow, should he support the Eastern Army or the Western Army? Or should he leave the world behind and survive on mountain grasses until peace was restored?
Even on this morning, he could not escape the feeling that if he contented himself with a high position, his pursuit of the Way would be aborted.
But he couldn’t refuse. What finally swayed him was the trust in him shown by his supporters. There was no way to say no; he could not break faith with Takuan, his old friend and stern mentor, and Lord Ujikatsu, now a valued acquaintance.
Dressed in formal attire and riding a splendid horse with a beautiful saddle, he set forth on a brilliantly sunlit road for the castle, each step supposedly carrying him closer to the gateway to glory.
In front of the Reception Pavilion was a graveled courtyard and, on a high post, a sign saying: “Dismount.” As Musashi got off the horse, an official and one of the stablemen came forward.
“My name is Miyamoto Musashi,” he announced in a formal tone of voice. “I have come in response to a summons issued yesterday by the Council of Elders. May I request that you show