Musashi - Eiji Yoshikawa [58]
“I have no idea, but I think I can walk.”
“We had all those branches to break the fall, so you’re probably not too badly hurt.”
“What about you? You okay?”
“Yes … I’m … I’m okay. I’m … ” He paused a second or two, then blurted out, “I’m alive! I’m really alive!”
“Of course you are!”
“It’s not ‘of course.”’
“Let’s get out of here fast. If anybody finds us here, we’ll be in real trouble.” Otsū started limping away and Takezō followed … slowly, silently, like two frail wounded insects walking on the autumn frost.
They proceeded as best they could, hobbling along in silence, a silence broken only much later, when Otsū cried, “Look! It’s getting light over toward Harima.”
“Where are we?”
“At the top of Nakayama Pass.”
“Have we really come that far?”
“Yes.” Otsū smiled weakly. “Surprising what you can do when you’re determined. But, Takezō .” Otsū looked alarmed. “You must be famished. You haven’t eaten anything for days.”
At the mention of food, Takezō suddenly realized his shrunken stomach was cramped with pain. Now that he was aware of it, it was excruciating, and it seemed like hours before Otsū managed to undo her bag and take out the food. Her gift of life took the form of rice cakes, stuffed generously with sweet bean paste. As their sweetness slid smoothly down his throat, Takezō grew giddy. The fingers holding the cake shook. “I’m alive,” he thought over and over, vowing that from that moment on he’d live a very different sort of life.
The reddish clouds of morning turned their cheeks rosy. As he began to see Otsū’s face more clearly and hunger gave way to a sated calm, it seemed like a dream that he was sitting here safe and sound with her.
“When it gets light, we’ll have to be very careful. We’re almost at the provincial border,” said Otsū.
Takezō’s eyes widened. “The border! That’s right, I forgot. I have to go to Hinagura.”
“Hinagura? Why?”
“That’s where they’ve got my sister locked up. I have to get her out of there. Guess I’ll have to say good-bye.”
Otsū peered into his face in stunned silence. “If that’s the way you feel about it, go! But if I’d thought you were going to desert me, I wouldn’t have left Miyamoto.”
“What else can I do? Just leave her there in the stockade?”
With a look that pressed in on him, she took his hand in hers. Her face, her whole body, was aflame with passion. “Takezō,” she pleaded, “I’ll tell you how I feel about this later, when there’s time, but please, don’t leave me alone here! Take me with you, wherever you go!”
“But I can’t!”
“Remember”—she gripped his hand tight—”whether you like it or not, I’m staying with you. If you think I’ll be in the way when you’re trying to rescue Ogin, then I’ll go to Himeji and wait.”
“All right, do that,” he agreed instantly.
“You’ll definitely come, won’t you?”
“Of course.”
“I’ll be waiting at Hanada Bridge, just outside Himeji. I’ll wait for you there, whether it takes a hundred days or a thousand.”
Answering with a slight nod, Takezō was off without further ado, racing along the ridge leading from the pass into the far-distant mountains. Otsū raised her head to watch him till his body melted into the scenery.
Back in the village, Osugi’s grandson came charging up to the Hon’iden manor house, shouting, “Grandma! Grandma!”
Wiping his nose with the back of his hand, he peered into the kitchen and said excitedly, “Grandma, have you heard? Something awful’s happened!”
Osugi, who was standing before the stove, coaxing a fire with a bamboo fan, barely looked his way. “What’s all the fuss about?”,
“Grandma, don’t you know? Takezō’s escaped!”
“Escaped!” She dropped the fan in the flames. “What are you talking about?”
“This morning he wasn’t in the tree. The rope was cut.”
“Heita, you know what I said about telling tales!”
“It’s the truth, Grandma, honest. Everybody’s talking about it.” “Are you absolutely sure?”
“Yes, ma’am. And up at the temple, they’re searching for Otsū. She’s gone too. Everybody’s running around shouting.”
The visible effect of the news was colorful. Osugi