Musashi - Eiji Yoshikawa [59]
“Heita!”
“Yes?”
“Run as fast as your legs can carry you. Fetch your daddy right away. Then go down to the riverbank and get Uncle Gon! And hurry!” Osugi’s voice quivered.
Before Heita even reached the gate, a crowd of muttering villagers had arrived. Among them were Osugi’s son-in-law, Uncle Gon, other relatives and a number of tenants.
“That girl Otsū’s run away too, hasn’t she?”
“And Takuan’s not around either!”
“Looks pretty funny if you ask me!”
“They were in it together, that’s for sure.”
“Wonder what the old woman’ll do? Her family honor’s at stake!”
The son-in-law and Uncle Gon, carrying lances passed down to them from their ancestors, stared blankly toward the house. Before they could do anything, they needed guidance, so they stood there restlessly waiting for Osugi to appear and issue orders.
“Granny,” someone finally shouted, “haven’t you heard the news?”
“I’ll be there in a minute,” came the reply. “All of you, just be quiet and wait.”
Osugi quickly rose to the occasion. When she’d realized the awful news had to be true, her blood boiled, but she managed to control herself enough to kneel before the family altar. After silently saying a prayer of supplication, she raised her head, opened her eyes and turned around. Calmly she opened the doors of the sword chest, pulled out a drawer and withdrew a treasured weapon. Having already donned attire suitable for a manhunt, she slipped the short sword in her obi and went to the entranceway, where she tied her sandal thongs securely round her ankles.
The awed hush that greeted her as she approached the gate made clear they knew what she was dressed for. The stubborn old woman meant business and was more than ready to avenge the insult to her house.
“Everything’s going to be all right,” she announced in clipped tones. “I’m going to chase down that shameless hussy myself and see to it she receives her proper punishment.” Her jaw clamped shut.
She was already walking briskly down the road before someone in the crowd spoke up. “If the old woman is going, we should go too.” All the relatives and tenants stood up, and fell in behind their doughty matriarch. Arming themselves as they went with sticks, fashioning bamboo lances hastily as they walked, they marched directly to Nakayama Pass, not even pausing to rest on the way. They reached it just before noon, only to find that they were too late.
“We’ve let them get away!” one man shouted. The crowd seethed with anger. To add to their frustration, a border official approached to inform them such a large group could not pass through.
Uncle Gon came forward and pleaded earnestly with the official, describing Takezō as a “criminal,” Otsū as “evil” and Takuan as “crazy.” “If we drop this matter now,” he explained, “it will sully the name of our ancestors. We’ll never be able to hold up our heads. We’ll be the laughingstock of the village. The Hon’iden family might even have to abandon its land.”
The official said he understood their predicament but could do nothing to help. The law’s the law. He could perhaps send an inquiry on to Himeji and get them special permission to cross the border, but that would take time.
Osugi, after conferring with her relatives and tenants, stepped in front of the official and asked, “In that case, is there any reason why two of us, myself and Uncle Gon, can’t go through?”
“Up to five people are permitted.”
Osugi nodded her acquiescence. Then, although it looked as if she was about to deliver a moving farewell, she instead called her followers together in a very matter-of-fact way. They lined up before her, staring attentively at her thin-lipped mouth and large protruding teeth.
When they were all quiet, she said, “There’s no reason for you to be upset. I anticipated something like this happening before we even set out. When I put on this short sword, one of the most prized Hon’iden heirlooms,