Musashi: Bushido Code (94 page)

By the time the men had made their way up the cliff, the flames were dancing wildly in the wind. Unprotected from the shower of sparks and embers, Okō stood tied securely to a tree trunk.

To a man, they were dumbfounded. Musashi gone? How? How could he conceivably have outwitted them all?

Tōji lost heart; he did not even send his men in pursuit. He had heard enough about Musashi to know they'd never catch him. On their own, however, the bandits quickly organized search parties and flew off in all directions.

They found no trace of Musashi.

Playing with Fire

Unlike the other principal routes, there were no trees lining the Kōshū highroad, which joined Shiojiri and Edo by way of Kai Province. Used for military transport during the sixteenth century, it lacked the Nakasendō's network of back roads and had only recently been upgraded to the status of a main artery.

For travelers coming from Kyoto or Osaka, its least agreeable feature was a dearth of good inns and eating places. A request for a box lunch was likely to bring forth nothing more appetizing than flat rice cakes wrapped in bamboo leaves or, even less appealing, balls of plain rice done up in dried oak leaves. Despite the primitive fare—probably not much different from that of the Fujiwara period, hundreds of years earlier—the rustic hostelries swarmed with guests, most of them bound for Edo.

A group of travelers was taking a rest above Kobotoke Pass. One of them exclaimed, "Look, there's another batch," referring to a sight he and his companions had been enjoying almost daily—a group of prostitutes on their way from Kyoto to Edo.

The girls numbered about thirty, some old, some in their twenties or early thirties, at least five in their middle teens. Together with about ten men who managed or served them, they resembled a large. patriarchal family. There were in addition several packhorses loaded down with everything from small wicker baskets to man-sized wooden chests.

The head of the "family," a man of about forty, was addressing his girls. "If your straw sandals are giving you blisters, change into zōri, but tie them tight so they don't slip around. And stop complaining that you can't walk any farther. Just look at the children on the road, the children!" It was clear from his acid tone that he was having a hard time forcing his usually sedentary charges to keep moving.

The man, whose name was Shōji Jinnai, was a native of Fushimi, a samurai by birth, who had for reasons of his own abandoned the military life to become a brothel keeper. Being both quick-witted and resourceful, he had succeeded in gaining the support of Tokugawa Ieyasu, who often took up residence at Fushimi Castle, and had not only obtained permission to move his own business to Edo but had also persuaded many of his colleagues in the trade to do likewise.

Near the crest of Kobotoke, Jinnai brought his procession to a halt, saying, "It's still a little early, but we can have our lunch now." Turning to Onao, an old woman who functioned as a sort of mother hen, he ordered her to pass out the food.

The basket containing the box lunches was duly unloaded from one of the horses and a leaf-wrapped ball of rice dealt out to each of the women, who scattered themselves about and relaxed. The dust that had yellowed their skin had also turned their black hair nearly white, though they wore broad-brimmed traveling hats or had tied hand towels around their heads. There being no tea, eating entailed a good deal of lip smacking and tooth sucking. There was no suggestion of sexual wiles or amorous thrills. "Whose arms will embrace this red, red blossom tonight?" seemed utterly beside the point.

"Oh, this is delicious!" cried one of Jinnai's younger charges ecstatically. Her tone of voice would have brought tears to her mother's eyes.

The attention of two or three others wandered from their lunch to focus on a young samurai passing by.

"Isn't he handsome?" whispered one.

"Umm, not bad," replied another, of more worldly outlook.

A third volunteered, "Oh, I know him. He used to come to our place with men from the Yoshioka School."

"Which one are you talking about?" asked one lustful-eyed creature. "The young one, strutting along there with the long sword on his back."

Unaware of the admiration, Sasaki Kojirō was pushing his way through a throng of porters and packhorses.

A high, flirtatious voice called, "Mr. Sasaki! Over here, Mr. Sasaki!" Since there were lots of people named Sasaki, he didn't even turn. "You with the forelock!"

Kojirō's eyebrows shot up, and he spun around.

"Watch your tongues!" Jinnai shouted angrily. "You're being rude." Then, glancing up from his lunch, he recognized Kojirō.

"Well, well," he said, rising quickly. "If it isn't our friend Sasaki! Where are you headed, if I may ask?"

"Why, hello. You're the master of the Sumiya, aren't you? I'm going to Edo. And what about you? You seem to be engaged in a full-scale move."

"That we are. We're moving to the new capital."

"Really? Do you think you can make a go of it there?"

"Nothing grows in stagnant waters."

"The way Edo's growing, I imagine there's plenty of work for construction workers and gunsmiths. But elegant entertainment? It seems doubtful there's much demand for it yet."

"You're wrong, though. Women made a city out of Osaka before Hideyoshi got around to taking any notice of it."

"Maybe, but in a place as new as Edo, you probably won't even be able to find a suitable house."

"Wrong again. The government's set aside some marshland in a place called Yoshiwara for people in my business. My associates have already started filling it in, putting in streets and building houses. From all reports, I should be able to find a good street-front location fairly easily."

"You mean the Tokugawas are giving the land away? For free?"

"Of course. Who'd pay for marshland? The government's even providing some of the construction materials."

"I see. No wonder you're all abandoning the Kyoto area."

"And what about you? Or do you have some prospect of a position with a daimyō?"

"Oh, no; nothing like that. I wouldn't take one if it was offered. I just thought I'd see what's going on up there, since it's the shōgun's residence and the place where orders are going to come from in the future. Of course, if I were asked to be one of the shōgun's instructors, I might accept."

Though no judge of swordsmanship, Jinnai had a good eye for people. Thinking it just as well not to comment on Kojirō's unbridled egotism, he averted his eyes and began prodding his troop into movement. "Everybody up now! It's time we were going."

Onao, who had been counting heads, said, "We seem to be missing one girl. Which one is it, now? Kichō? Or maybe Sumizome? No; they're both over there. This is strange. Who could it be?"

Kojirō, disinclined to have a party of prostitutes for traveling companions, went on his way.

A couple of the girls who had gone back down the road to search returned to where Onao was.

Jinnai joined them. "Here, here, Onao, which one is it?"

"Ah, I know now. It was that girl named Akemi," she replied contritely, as if the fault were hers. "The one you picked up on the road in Kiso."

"She must be around here somewhere."

"We've looked everywhere. I think she must have run away."

"Well, I didn't have a written commitment from her, and I didn't lend her any 'body money.' She said she was willing, and since she was good-looking enough to be marketable, I took her on. I suppose she's cost me a bit in traveling expenses, but not enough to worry about. Never mind her. Let's get moving."

He began hustling his group along. Even if it meant traveling after sundown, he wanted to reach Hachiōji within the day. If they could get that far before stopping, they could be in Edo the next day.

A short way down the road, Akemi reappeared and fell in with them.

"Where have you been?" Onao demanded angrily. "You can't just wander off without telling anyone where you're going. Unless, of course, you're planning to leave us." The old woman went on to explain self-righteously how they had all been so worried about her.

"You don't understand," said Akemi, from whom the scolding brought nothing but giggles. "There was a man I know on the road, and I didn't want him to see me. I ran into a clump of bamboo, not knowing there was a sudden drop-off there. I slid all the way down to the bottom." She corroborated this by holding up her torn kimono and a skinned elbow. But all the time she was begging forgiveness, her face showed not the slightest sign of contrition.

From his position near the front, Jinnai caught wind of what had happened and summoned her. Sternly he said, "Your name's Akemi, isn't it? Akemi—that's hard to remember. If you're really going to succeed in this business, you'll have to find a better name. Tell me, have you really resolved to go through with this?"

"Does it require resolution to become a whore?"

"It's not something you can take up for a month or so and then quit. And if you become one of my girls, you'll have to give the customers what they ask for, like it or not. Don't make any mistake about that."

"What difference does it make now? Men have already made a mess of my life."

"That's not the right attitude at all. Now, you give this some careful thought. If you change your mind before we reach Edo, that's all right. I won't ask you to pay me back for your food and lodging."

That same day, at the Yakuōin in Takao, an older man, apparently free of the pressures of business, was about to resume his leisurely journey. He, his servant and a boy of about fifteen had arrived the previous evening and requested overnight accommodations. He and the boy had been touring the temple grounds since early morning. It was now about noon.

"Use this for roof repairs, or whatever is necessary," he said, offering one of the priests three large gold coins.

The head priest, immediately apprised of the gift, was so overwhelmed by the donor's generosity that he personally hastened out to exchange greetings. "Perhaps you would like to leave your name," he said.

Another priest, saying this had already been done, showed him the entry in the temple registry, which read: "Daizō of Narai, dealer in herbs, resident at the foot of Mount Ontake in Kiso."

The head priest apologized profusely for the poor quality of the fare served by the temple, for Daizō of Narai was known throughout the country as a lavish contributor to shrines and temples. His gifts always took the form of gold coins—in some cases, it was said, as many as several dozen. Only he himself knew whether he did this for amusement, to acquire a reputation, or out of piety.

The priest, eager to have him stay longer, begged him to inspect the temple's treasures, a privilege accorded to few.

"I'll be in Edo awhile," said Daizō. "I'll come see them another time."

"By all means, but at least let me accompany you to the outer gate," insisted the priest. "Are you planning to stop in Fuchū tonight?"

"No; Hachiōji."

"In that case, it'll be an easy trip."

"Tell me, who's the lord of Hachiōji now?"

"It's recently been put under the administration of Ōkubo Nagayasu." "He was magistrate of Nara, wasn't he?"

"Yes, that's the man. The gold mines on Sado Island are also under his control. He's very rich."

"A very able man, it would appear."

It was still daylight when they came to the foot of the mountains and stood on the busy main street of Hachiōji, where reportedly there were no fewer than twenty-five inns.

"Well, Jōtarō, where shall we stay?"

Jōtarō, who had stuck to Daizō's side like a shadow, let it be known in no uncertain terms that he preferred "anywhere—as long as it's not a temple."

Choosing the largest and most imposing inn, Daizō entered and requested a room. His distinguished appearance, together with the elegant lacquered traveling case his servant carried on his back, made a dazzling impression on the head clerk, who said fawningly, "You're stopping quite early, aren't you?" Inns along the highroads were accustomed to having hordes of travelers tumble in at dinnertime or even later.

Daizō was shown to a large room on the first floor, but shortly after sundown, both the innkeeper and the head clerk came to Daizō's room.

"I'm sure it's a great inconvenience," the innkeeper began abjectly, "but a large party of guests has come in very suddenly. I'm afraid it'll be terribly noisy here. If you wouldn't mind moving to a room on the second floor ..."

"Oh, that's perfectly all right," replied Daizō good-naturedly. "Glad to see your business is thriving."

Signaling Sukeichi, his servant, to take care of the luggage, Daizō proceeded upstairs. He had no sooner left the room than it was overrun by women from the Sumiya.

The inn wasn't just busy; it was frenetic. What with the hubbub downstairs, the servants did not come when called. Dinner was late, and when they had eaten, no one came to clear away the dishes. On top of that, there was the constant tramping of feet on both floors. Only Daizō's sympathy for the hired help kept him from losing his temper. Ignoring the litter in the room, he stretched out to take a nap, using his arm for a pillow. After only a few minutes, a sudden thought came to him, and he called Sukeichi.

When Sukeichi failed to materialize, Daizō opened his eyes, sat up and shouted, "Jōtarō, come here!"

But he, too, had disappeared.

Daizō got up and went to the veranda, which he saw was lined with guests, excitedly gaping with delight at the prostitutes on the first floor.

Spying Jōtarō among the spectators, Daizō swiftly yanked him back into the room. With a forbidding eye, he demanded, "What were you staring at?"

The boy's long wooden sword, which he did not take off even indoors, scraped the tatami as he sat down. "Well," he said, "everyone else is looking."

"And just what are they looking at?"

"Oh, there're a lot of women in the back room downstairs."

"Is that all?"

"Yes."

"What's so entertaining about that?" The presence of the whores didn't bother Daizō, but for some reason he found the intense interest of the men gawking at them annoying.

"I don't know," replied Jōtarō honestly.