Musashi - Eiji Yoshikawa [60]
“One was that I would overtake and punish the brazen female who has smeared our name with mud. The other was that I’d find out for sure, even if I died trying, whether my son Matahachi is alive. And if he is, I’ll bring him home to carry on the family name. I swore to do this, and I will do it, even if it means tying a rope around his neck and dragging him all the way back. He has an obligation not only to me and to those departed, but to you as well. He will then find a wife a hundred times better than Otsū and blot out this disgrace for all time, so that the villagers will once again recognize our house as a noble and honorable one.”
As they were applauding and cheering, one man uttered something sounding like a groan. Osugi stared fixedly at her son-in-law.
“Now Uncle Gon and I,” she went on, “are both old enough to retire. We are both in agreement on everything I’ve vowed to do, and he, too, is resolved to accomplish them, even if it means spending two or three years doing nothing else, even if it means walking the length and breadth of the country. While I’m gone, my son-in-law will take my place as head of the house. During that time, you must promise to work as hard as ever. I don’t want to hear of any of you neglecting the silkworms or letting weeds grow wild in the fields. Do you understand?”
Uncle Gon was nearly fifty, Osugi ten years older. The crowd seemed hesitant to let them go it alone, since they were obviously no match for Takezō in the event that they should ever find him. They all imagined him to be a madman who would attack and kill for the smell of blood alone.
“Wouldn’t it be better,” someone suggested, “if you took three young men along with you? The man said that five can pass through.”
The old woman shook her head with vehemence. “I don’t need any help. I never have, and never will. Ha! Everyone thinks Takezō is so strong, but he doesn’t scare me! He’s only a brat, with not much more hair on him than when I knew him as a baby. I’m not his equal in physical strength, of course, but I haven’t lost my wits. I can still outsmart an enemy or two. Uncle Gon’s not senile yet either.
“Now I’ve told you what I’m going to do,” she said, pointing her index finger at her nose. “And I’m going to do it. There’s nothing left for you to do but go home, so go and take care of everything till we return.”
She shooed them away and walked up to the barrier. No one tried to stop her again. They called their good-byes and watched as the old couple started their journey eastward down the mountainside.
“The old lady really has guts, doesn’t she?” someone remarked.
Another man cupped his hands and shouted, “If you get sick, send a messenger back to the village.”
A third called solicitously, “Take care of yourselves!”
When she could no longer hear their voices, Osugi turned to Uncle Gon. “We don’t have a thing to worry about,” she assured him. “We’re going to die before those young people anyway.”
“You’re absolutely right,” he replied with conviction. Uncle Gon made his living hunting, but in his younger days he had been a samurai involved, to hear him tell it, in many a gory battle. Even now his skin was healthily ruddy and his hair as black as ever. His surname was Fuchikawa; Gon stood for Gonroku, his given name. As Matahachi’s uncle, he was naturally quite concerned and upset about the recent goings-on.
“Granny,” he said.
“What?”
“You had the foresight to dress for the road, but I’m just wearing my everyday clothes. I’ll have to stop somewhere for sandals and a hat.”
“There’s a teahouse about halfway down this hill.”
“So there is! Yes, I remember. It’s called the Mikazuki Teahouse, isn’t it? I’m sure they’ll have what I need.”
By the time they reached the teahouse they were surprised to see that the sun was beginning to set. They had thought they had more daylight hours ahead of them, since the days were growing longer with the approach of summer—more time to search on this, their first day in