Musashi - Eiji Yoshikawa [591]
“I am Miyamoto Musashi.” The equally simple reply was accompanied by a bow.
Shima returned the bow, said, “Make yourself comfortable,” and proceeded to the point without further formalities. “I’m told you killed two of our samurai last night. Is that true?”
“Yes, it is.” Musashi stared at Shima’s eyes.
“I owe you an apology,” said Shima gravely. “I heard about the incident today when the deaths were reported. There was an investigation, of course. Though I’ve known your name for a long time, I did not know until now that you were living in Okazaki.
“As for the attack, I was told you were fired on by a group of our men, one of whom is a disciple of Miyake Gumbei, a martial expert of the Tōgun Style.”
Musashi, sensing no subterfuge, accepted Shima’s words at face value, and the story unfolded gradually. Gumbei’s disciple was one of several Honda samurai who had studied at the Yoshioka School. The firebrands among them got together and decided to kill the man who had put an end to the glory of the Yoshioka School.
Musashi knew Yoshioka Kempō’s name was still revered throughout the country. In western Japan, particularly, it would have been difficult to find a fief in which there were no samurai who had not studied under him. Musashi told Shima he understood their hatred of him but regarded it as a personal grudge rather than a legitimate reason for revenge in accordance with the Art of War.
Shima apparently agreed. “I called the survivors in and reprimanded them. I hope you’ll forgive us and forget the matter. Gumbei, too, was very displeased. If you don’t mind, I’d like to introduce him to you. He would like to offer his apologies.”
“That’s not necessary. What happened was a common occurrence for any man committed to the martial arts.”
“Even so—”
“Well, let’s dispense with the apologies. But if he’d like to talk about the Way, I’d be delighted to meet him. The name is familiar.”
A man was sent for Gumbei, and when the introductions were over, the talk turned to swords and swordsmanship.
Musashi said, “I’d like to hear about the Tōgun Style. Did you create it?”
“No,” replied Gumbei. “I learned it from my teacher, Kawasaki Kaginosuke, from Echizen Province. According to the manual he gave me, he developed it while living as a hermit on Mount Hakuun in Kōzuke. He seems to have learned many of his techniques from a Tendai monk named Tōgumbo…. But tell me about yourself. I’ve heard your name mentioned a number of times. I had the impression you were older. And since you’re here, I wonder if you’d favor me with a lesson.” The tone was friendly. Nevertheless, this was an invitation to battle.
“Some other time,” Musashi replied lightly. “I should be going now. I don’t really know the way home.”
“When you go,” said Shima, “I’ll send someone with you.”
“When I heard two men had been cut down,” Gumbei went on, “I went over to take a look. I found I couldn’t reconcile the positions of the bodies with the wounds, so I questioned the man who escaped. His impression was that you were using two swords at once. Could that be true?”
With a smile, Musashi said he had never done so consciously. He regarded what he was doing as fighting with one body and one sword.
“You shouldn’t be so modest,” said Gumbei. “Tell us about it. How do you practice? What do the weights have to be for you to use two swords freely?”
Seeing he wasn’t going to be able to leave before he gave some sort of explanation, he directed his eyes around the room. They came to rest on two muskets in the alcove and he asked to borrow them. Shima consented, and Musashi went to the middle of the room holding the two weapons by the barrels, one in each hand.
Musashi raised one knee and said, “Two swords are as one sword. One sword is as two swords. One’s arms are separate; they both belong to the same body. In all things, the ultimate reasoning is not dual but single. All styles and all factions are alike in this respect. I will show you.”
The words came out spontaneously