Musashi - Eiji Yoshikawa [64]
“Ogin!”
When he failed to locate her, his hoarse cries became nearly unintelligible.
In the shadows of one of the small, dirty cells he saw a man trying to sneak away.
“Halt!” he shouted, throwing the bloodstained gatepost at the weasel-like creature’s feet. When Takezō leaped at him, he began to cry shamelessly. Takezō slapped him sharply on the cheek. “Where’s my sister?” he roared. “What have they done to her? Tell me where she is or I’ll beat you to death!”
“She … she’s not here. Day before yesterday they took her away. Orders from the castle.”
“Where, you stupid bastard, where?”
“Himeji.”
“Himeji?”
“Y-y-yes.”
“If you’re lying, I’ll …” Takezō grabbed the sniveling mass by its hair. “It’s true—true. I swear!”
“It better be, or I’ll come back just for you!”
The soldiers were closing in again, and Takezō lifted the man and hurled him at them. Then he disappeared into the shadows of the dingy cells. Half a dozen arrows flew by him, one sticking like a giant sewing needle in the skirt of his kimono. Takezō bit his thumbnail and watched the arrows speed by, then suddenly dashed for the fence and was over it in a flash.
Behind him there was a loud explosion. The echo of the gunshot roared across the valley.
Takezō sped down the gorge, and as he ran, fragments of Takuan’s teachings were racing through his head: “Learn to fear that which is fearsome… . Brute strength is child’s play, the mindless strength of beasts… . Have the strength of the true warrior … real courage… . Life is precious.”
The Birth of Musashi
Takezō waited on the outskirts of the castle town of Himeji, sometimes keeping out of sight under Hanada Bridge but more often standing on the bridge unobtrusively surveying the passersby. When not in the immediate vicinity of the bridge, he would make short excursions around town, careful to keep his hat low and his face concealed, like a beggar’s, behind a piece of straw matting.
It baffled him that Otsū had not yet appeared; only a week had gone by since she swore to wait there—not a hundred but a thousand days. Once Takezō had made a promise, he was loath to break it. But with every passing moment he grew more and more tempted to be on the move, though his promise to Otsū was not the only reason he made his way to Himeji. He also had to find out where they were keeping Ogin.
He was near the center of town one day when he heard a voice shouting his name. Footsteps came running after him. He looked up sharply, to see Takuan approaching, calling, “Takezō! Wait!”
Takezō was startled, and as usual in the presence of this monk, felt slightly humiliated. He had thought his disguise was foolproof and had been sure that no one, not even Takuan, would recognize him.
The monk grabbed him by the wrist. “Come with me,” he commanded. The urgency in his voice was impossible to ignore. “And don’t make any trouble. I’ve spent a lot of time looking for you.”
Takezō followed meekly. He had no idea where they were going, but he once again found himself powerless to resist this particular man. He wondered why. He was free now, and for all he knew they were headed straight back to the dreaded tree in Miyamoto. Or perhaps into a castle dungeon. He had suspected they had his sister locked up somewhere in the castle’s confines, but he hadn’t a shred of evidence to back this up. He hoped he was right: if he, too, was taken there, at least they could die together. If they had to die, he could think of no one else he loved enough to share the final moments of precious life with.
Himeji Castle loomed before his eyes. He could see now why it was called the “White Crane Castle”: the stately edifice stood upon huge stone ramparts, like a great and proud bird descended from the heavens. Takuan preceded him across the wide arcing bridge spanning the outer moat. A row of guards stood at attention before the riveted iron gate. The sunlight glancing off their drawn lances made Takezō, for a