Musashi - Eiji Yoshikawa [625]
Unrelieved gloom prevailed at Sado’s house, the burden being especially heavy for the men who had known Musashi’s father. They felt betrayed. If Musashi reneged, it would be impossible for them to face their fellow samurai or the world at large.
When Sado dismissed them, Kagashirō vowed, “We’ll find the bastard. If not today, some other day. And when we do, we’ll kill him.”
Returning to his own room, Sado lit the incense in the incense burner, as he did every day, but Nuinosuke detected a special gravity in the deliberateness of his movements. “He’s preparing himself,” he thought, grieved to think that it had come to this.
Just then Iori, standing at the edge of the garden gazing at the sea, turned and asked, “Did you try the house of Kobayashi Tarōzaemon?”
Nuinosuke realized instinctively that Iori had hit on something. No one had gone to the shipping broker’s establishment, but it was exactly the sort of place Musashi would choose so as to keep out of sight.
“The boy’s right,” exclaimed Sado, his face brightening. “How stupid of us! Get over there right away!”
“I’m going too,” said Iori.
“Is it all right for him to go along?”
“Yes, he can go too. Now hurry…. No, wait a minute.”
He dashed off a note and informed Nuinosuke of its contents: “Sasaki Kojirō will cross to Funashima in a boat provided by Lord Tadatoshi. He will arrive by eight o’clock. You can still make it by then. I suggest you come here and make your preparations. I’ll provide a boat to take you to your glorious victory.”
In Sado’s name, Nuinosuke and Iori procured a fast craft from the fief’s boatmaster. They made it to Shimonoseki in record time, then proceeded directly to Tarōzaemon’s shop.
In response to their inquiry, a clerk said, “I don’t know any details, but it appears there’s a young samurai staying at the master’s house.”
“That’s it! We’ve found him.” Nuinosuke and Iori grinned at each other and rapidly covered the short distance between shop and house.
Confronting Tarōzaemon directly, Nuinosuke said, “This is fief business, and it’s urgent. Is Miyamoto Musashi staying here?”
“Yes.”
“Thank heaven. My master’s been worried sick. Quick now, tell Musashi I’m here.”
Tarōzaemon went into the house and reappeared a minute later, saying, “He’s still in his room. He’s sleeping.”
“Sleeping?” Nuinosuke was appalled.
“He was up late last night, talking with me over some sake.”
“This is no time to be sleeping. Wake him up. Right now!”
The merchant, refusing to be pressured, showed Nuinosuke and Iori into a guest room before going to awaken Musashi.
When Musashi joined them, he appeared well rested, eyes as clear as a baby’s.
“Good morning,” he said cheerfully as he seated himself. “Is there something I can do for you?”
Nuinosuke, deflated by the nonchalant greeting, silently handed him Sado’s letter.
“How good of him to write,” said Musashi, raising the letter to his forehead before breaking the seal and opening it. Iori was staring a hole through Musashi, who acted as if he wasn’t even there. After reading the letter, he rolled it up and said, “I’m grateful for Sado’s thoughtfulness.” Only then did he glance at Iori, causing the boy to lower his head to hide his tears.
Musashi wrote a reply and handed it to Nuinosuke. “I’ve explained everything in the letter,” he said, “but be sure to convey my thanks and my best wishes.” He added that they were not to worry. He would go to Funashima in his own good time.
There was nothing they could do, so they left. Iori hadn’t said a word to Musashi, nor Musashi to him. Yet the two had communicated to each other the mutual devotion of teacher and pupil.
As Sado read Musashi’s reply, a look of relief spread across his face. The letter said:
My deepest thanks for your offer