Musashi - Eiji Yoshikawa [616]
Kojirō disagreed. “The whole point of the Art of War is to be quick to seize an opening. Even when a man takes precautions, it often happens that his opponent will have anticipated them and devised means of offsetting them. It’s much better to approach the situation with an open mind and move with perfect freedom.”
Seeing the logic of this argument, Kakubei made no more mention of going to Funashima.
Summoned by Kojirō, Omitsu served them sake, and the two men drank and chatted until late in the evening. From the relaxed way in which Kakubei sipped his sake, it was evident that he was pleased with life and felt that his efforts to assist Kojirō had been rewarded.
Rather like a proud father, he said, “I think it’s all right to tell Omitsu. When this is over, we can invite her relatives and friends here for the marriage ceremony. It’s a fine thing for you to be devoted to your sword, but you must also have a family if your name is to be carried on. When you’re married, I’ll feel I’ve done my duty by you.”
Unlike the happy old retainer with many years of service, Kojirō showed no signs of drunkenness. But then he was prone to silence these days anyway. Once the bout had been decided on, Kakubei had suggested and Tadatoshi had agreed to release Kojirō from his duties. He had enjoyed the unaccustomed leisure at first, but as the day approached and more and more people came to call, he found himself forced to entertain them. Recently, times when he could rest had become few. Still, he was reluctant to shut himself away and have people turned back at the gate. If he did that, people would think he’d lost his composure.
The idea that came to him was to go out into the country every day, his falcon on his fist. In nice weather, hiking over field and mountain with only the bird for a companion did his spirit good.
When the falcon’s alert azure eyes spotted a victim in the sky, Kojirō would release it. Then his own eyes, equally alert, would follow it as it rose and swooped down on its quarry. Until the feathers began to drift to earth, he remained breathless, transfixed, as though he himself were the falcon.
“Good! That’s the way!” he exclaimed when the falcon made the kill. He had learned much from this bird of prey, and as a result of these hunting excursions, his face showed more confidence with the passage of each day.
Returning home in the evening, he was met by Omitsu’s eyes, swollen from crying. It hurt him to observe her efforts to disguise this. To him, losing to Musashi was inconceivable. Nevertheless, the question of what would happen to her if he was killed crept into his mind.
So did the image of his dead mother, to whom he had given scarcely a thought for years. And each night as he was falling asleep, a vision of the falcon’s azure eyes and the swollen eyes of Omitsu came to visit him, jumbled in an odd way with a fleeting memory of his mother’s face.
Before the Thirteenth Day
Shimonoseki, Moji, the castle town of Kokura—during the past several days many travelers had come but few had left. The inns were all full, and horses were lined up side by side at the hitching posts outside.
The command issued by the castle said:
On the thirteenth day of this month, at eight o’clock in the morning, on Funashima in the Nagato Straits of Buzen, Sasaki Kojirō Ganryū, a samurai of this fief, will at his lordship’s bidding fight a bout with Miyamoto Musashi Masana, a rōnin from the province of Mimasaka.
It is strictly forbidden for supporters of either swordsman to go to his aid or set forth on the water between the mainland and Funashima. Until ten o’clock on the morning of the thirteenth, no sightseeing vessels, passenger ships and fishing boats will be permitted to enter the straits. Fourth month [ 1612].
The announcement was posted conspicuously on bulletin boards at all major intersections, piers and gathering places.
“The thirteenth? That’s the day after tomorrow, isn’t it?”
“People from all over will want to see the bout, so they can go home and talk about it.”
“Of course they will,