Musashi: Bushido Code (143 page)

The man who led the way carried the table with the horseshoes at forehead level, the others following single file. They tied their handiwork to the branches of a tree beside the shrine entrance. Then, after clapping their hands once before the deity, they rejoined Musashi.

The fare was simple—a stew with taros, bamboo shoots with bean paste, and dried fish—the sort of meal served in local farmhouses. But there was much sake, and much laughter and talk.

When the mood became convivial, Musashi said, "It's a great honor to be asked to join you, but I've been wondering about your little ceremony. It must have some very special meaning for you."

"It does," said Magobeinojō. "When we came here as defeated warriors, we had no one to turn to. We would rather have died than steal, but we had to eat. Finally, we hit on the idea of setting up shop over there by the bridge and making horseshoes. Our hands were calloused from training with lances, so it took some effort to teach them to weave straw. We did that for three years, selling our work to passing grooms and somehow making enough to stay alive.

"The grooms came to suspect that weaving straw wasn't our usual occupation, and eventually someone told Lord Hosokawa Sansai about us. Learning we were former vassals of Lord Shimmen, he sent a man to offer us positions."

He told how Lord Sansai had offered a collective stipend of five thousand bushels, which they refused. They were willing to serve him in good faith, but they felt the lord-to-vassal relationship should be on a man-to-man basis. Sansai understood their feelings and came back with an offer of individual stipends. He had also been understanding when his retainers expressed fears that the six rōnin would not be able to attire themselves in a suitable manner to be presented to his lordship. But when a special allowance for clothes was suggested, Sansai said no, it would only cause embarrassment. Actually the fears were unwarranted, for as low as they had sunk, they were still able to dress in starched clothes and wear their two swords when they went to receive their appointments.

"It wouldn't have been difficult to forget how hard our lives were doing menial work. If we hadn't stuck together, we wouldn't have been alive for Lord Sansai to engage us. We mustn't let ourselves forget that providence took care of us during those difficult years."

Ending his recital, he held up a cup, saying, "Forgive me for talking so long about us. I just wanted you to know we're men of goodwill, even if our sake's not first class and the food not very plentiful. We want you to put up a brave fight the day after tomorrow. If you lose, we'll bury your bones for you, don't worry."

Accepting the cup, Musashi replied, "I'm honored to be here among you. It's better than drinking the very best sake in the finest mansion. I only hope I'll be as lucky as you've been."

"Don't hope that! You'll have to learn to weave horseshoes."

The sound of sliding dirt cut short their laughter. Their eyes went to the dike, where they saw the crouching batlike figure of a man.

"Who's there?" cried Kagashirō, on his feet at once. Another man rose, drawing his sword, and the two climbed the dike and peered through the mist.

Laughing, Kagashirō called down, "It seems to have been one of Kojirō's followers. He probably thinks we're Musashi's seconds and we're having a secret strategy session. He got away before we got a good look at him."

"I can see Kojirō's supporters doing that," remarked one man.

The atmosphere remained lighthearted, but Musashi decided not to linger any longer. The last thing he wanted was to do anything that might bring harm to these men later. He thanked them profusely for their kindness and left them to their party, walking casually into the darkness.

At least, he seemed casual.

Nagaoka's cold wrath for letting Musashi leave his house fell on several people, but he waited until the morning of the twelfth to dispatch men to look for him.

When the men reported they couldn't find Musashi—had no idea where he was—Sado's white eyebrows shot up anxiously. "What could have happened to him? Is it possible—" He did not want to finish the thought.

Also on the twelfth, Kojirō called at the castle and was warmly received by Lord Tadatoshi. They had some sake together, and Kojirō left in high spirits, riding his favorite pony.

By evening, the town was humming with rumors.

"Musashi probably got scared and ran away."

"No doubt about it. He's gone."

That night was a sleepless one for Sado. He tried to convince himself that it simply wasn't possible—Musashi wasn't the type to run away.... Still, it was not unknown for a seemingly reliable person to break down under stress. Fearing the worst, Sado foresaw having to commit seppuku, the only honorable solution if Musashi, whom he had recommended, failed to show up.

The bright, clear dawn of the thirteenth found him walking in the garden with Iori, asking himself over and over: "Was I mistaken? Did I misjudge the man?"

"Good morning, sir." Nuinosuke's tired face appeared at the side gate. "Did you find him?"

"No, sir. None of the innkeepers have seen anyone even resembling him." "Did you ask at the temples?"

"The temples, the dōjō, all the other places students of the martial arts go to. Magobeinojō and his group have been out all night and—"

"They haven't come back yet." Sado's brow furrowed. Through the fresh leaves of the plum trees, he could see the blue sea; the waves seemed to be beating against his very chest. "I don't understand it."

"He's nowhere to be found, sir."

One by one the searchers returned, tired and disappointed. Assembling near the veranda, they talked the situation over in a mood of anger and desperation.

According to Kinami Kagashirō, who had passed by Sasaki Kojirō's house, several hundred supporters had gathered outside the gate. The entrance was bedecked with bunting bearing a festive gentian crest, and a gold screen had been placed directly before the door from which Kojirō was to emerge. At dawn, contingents of his followers had gone to the three main shrines to pray for his victory.

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 of a boat to take me to Funashima. I do not deem myself worthy of such an honor. Moreover, I do not feel that I should accept. Please take into consideration that Kojirō and I are facing each other as opponents, and that he is using a boat provided by Lord Tadatoshi. If I were to go in your boat, it would appear that you were opposing his lordship. I do not think you should do anything on my behalf.

Although I should have told you this earlier, I refrained because I knew you would insist upon helping me. Rather than involve you, I came and stayed at Tarōzaemon's house. I shall also have the use of one of his boats to go to Funashima, at the hour I think appropriate. Of that you may rest assured.

Deeply impressed, Sado stared silently at the writing for a time. It was a good letter, modest, thoughtful, considerate, and he was now ashamed of his agitation of the day before.

"Nuinosuke."

"Yes, sir."

"Take this letter and show it to Magobeinojō and his comrades, as well as the others concerned."

Nuinosuke had just left, when a servant came in and said, "If your business is finished, sir, you should get ready to leave now."

"Yes, of course, but there's still plenty of time," Sado replied quietly. "It's not early. Kakubei's already left."

"That's his business. Iori, come here a minute."

"Sir?"

"Are you a man, Iori?"

"I think so."

"Do you think you can keep from crying, whatever happens?"

"Yes, sir."

"All right then, you can go to Funashima with me as my attendant. But remember one thing: we may have to pick up Musashi's corpse and bring it back with us. Could you still keep from crying?"

"Yes, sir. I will, I swear I will."

Nuinosuke had no sooner hurried through the gate than a shabbily dressed

woman called to him. "Pardon me, sir, but are you a retainer in this house?" Nuinosuke stopped and looked at her suspiciously. "What do you want?" "Forgive me. Looking the way I do, I shouldn't be standing in front of your

gate."

"Well, why are you doing it, then?"

"I wanted to ask ... it's about the fight today. People are saying Musashi's run away. Is that true?"

"You stupid wench! How dare you! You're talking about Miyamoto Musashi. Do you think he'd do a thing like that? Just wait until eight o'clock and you'll see. I've just been to see Musashi."

"You saw him?"

"Who are you?"

She dropped her eyes. "I'm an acquaintance of Musashi."

"Hmph. But still you worry about groundless rumors? All right—I'm in a hurry, but I'll show you a letter from Musashi." He read it aloud for her, not noticing the man with tearful eyes looking over his shoulder. When he did notice, he jerked his shoulder back and said, "Who are you? What do you think you're doing?"

Wiping the tears from his eyes, the man bowed sheepishly. "Sorry. I'm with this woman."

"Her husband?"

"Yes, sir. Thank you for showing us the letter. I feel like I've actually seen Musashi. Don't you, Akemi?"

"Yes; I feel so much better. Let's go find a place to watch."

Nuinosuke's anger evaporated. "If you go to the top of that hill over there by the shore, you should be able to see Funashima. As clear as it is today, you might even be able to make out the sandbar."

"We're sorry to have made a nuisance of ourselves when you're in a hurry. Please forgive us."

As they started to walk away, Nuinosuke said, "Just a minute—what are your names? If you don't mind, I'd like to know."

They turned and bowed. "My name's Matahachi. I was born in the same village as Musashi."