Musashi - Eiji Yoshikawa [637]
Ganryū mistook it for his opponent’s head, and a smile flitted briefly across his face. The next instant his skull broke like gravel under the blow of Musashi’s sword.
As Ganryū lay where the sand met the grass, his face betrayed no consciousness of defeat. Blood streamed from his mouth, but his lips formed a smile of triumph.
“Oh, no!”
“Ganryū!”
Forgetting himself, Iwama Kakubei jumped up, and with him all his retinue, their faces distorted with shock. Then they saw Nagaoka Sado and Iori, sitting calmly and sedately on their benches. Shamed, they somehow managed to keep from running forward. They tried to regain a degree of composure, but there was no concealing their grief and disillusion. Some swallowed hard, refusing to believe what they had seen, and their minds went blank.
In an instant, the island was as quiet and still as it had ever been. Only the rustle of the pines and the swaying grasses mocked the frailty and impermanence of mankind.
Musashi was watching a small cloud in the sky. As he did, his soul returned to his body, and it became possible for him to distinguish between the cloud and himself, between his body and the universe.
Sasaki Kojirō Ganryū did not return to the world of the living. Lying face down, he still had a grip on his sword. His tenacity was still visible. There was no sign of anguish on his face. Nothing but satisfaction at having fought a good fight, not the faintest shadow of regret.
The sight of his own headband lying on the ground sent shivers up and down Musashi’s spine. Never in this life, he thought, would he meet another opponent like this. A wave of admiration and respect flowed over him. He was grateful to Kojirō for what the man had given him. In strength, in the will to fight, he ranked higher than Musashi, and it was because of this that Musashi had been able to excel himself.
What was it that had enabled Musashi to defeat Kojirō? Skill? The help of the gods? While knowing it was neither of these, Musashi was never able to express a reason in words. Certainly it was something more important than either strength or godly providence.
Kojirō had put his confidence in the sword of strength and skill. Musashi trusted in the sword of the spirit. That was the only difference between them.
Silently, Musashi walked the ten paces to Kojirō and knelt beside him. He put his left hand near Kojirō’s nostrils and found there was still a trace of breath. “With the right treatment, he may recover,” Musashi told himself. And he wanted to believe this, wanted to believe that this most valiant of all adversaries would be spared.
But the battle was over. It was time to go.
“Farewell,” he said—to Kojirō, then to the officials on their benches. Having bowed once to the ground, he ran to the reef and jumped into the boat. There was not a drop of blood on his wooden sword.
The tiny craft moved out to sea. Who is to say where? There is no record as to whether Ganryū’s supporters on Hikojima attempted to take revenge.
People do not give up their loves and hates as long as life lasts. Waves of feeling come and go with the passage of time. Throughout Musashi’s lifetime, there were those who resented his victory and criticized his conduct on that day. He rushed away, it was said, because he feared reprisal. He was confused. He even neglected to administer the coup de grace.
The world is always full of the sound of waves.
The little fishes, abandoning themselves to the waves, dance and sing and play, but who knows the heart of the sea, a hundred feet down? Who knows its depth?
Table of Contents
Foreword
BOOK I • EARTH
The Little Bell
The Comb
The Flower Festival
The Dowager’s Wrath
The Art of War
The Old Cryptomeria Tree
The Rock and the Tree
The Birth of Musashi
BOOK II • WATER
The Yoshioka School
The Wheel of Fortune
Encounter and Retreat
The Water Sprite
A Spring Breeze
Hannya Plain
The Peony
The Nightingales
BOOK III