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Authors: Eiji Yoshikawa

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The self-styled samurai of the day were often men of lower character and baser instincts than common peasants or townsmen. Having nothing but brawn and technique to command the respect
-
of those beneath them, they were in the long run doomed to destruction. There were few daimyō capable of seeing this, and only a handful of the higher vassals of the Tokugawas and the Toyotomis gave any thought to establishing a new Way of the Samurai, which could become the foundation of the nation's strength and prosperity.

Musashi's thoughts returned to the years when he had been confined in Himeji Castle. Takuan, remembering that Lord Ikeda had in his library a handwritten copy of
Nichiyō Shūshin-kan
by Fushikian, had taken it out for Musashi to study. Fushikian was the literary name of the celebrated general Uesugi Kenshin; in his book, he recorded points of daily ethical training for the guidance of his chief vassals. From this, Musashi had not only learned about Kenshin's personal activities but also gained an understanding of why Kenshin's fief in Echigo had come to be known throughout the country for its wealth and military prowess.

Swayed by Geki's enthusiastic descriptions, he began to feel that Lord Date, besides equaling Kenshin in integrity, had created in his domain an atmosphere in which samurai were encouraged to develop a new Way, one that would enable them to resist even the shogunate, should that become necessary.

"You must forgive me for going on and on about matters of personal interest," said Geki. "What do you think, Musashi? Wouldn't you like to come to Sendai, see for yourself? His lordship is honest and straightforward. If you're striving to find the Way, your present status doesn't matter to him. You can talk with him as you would with any other man.

"There's a great need for samurai who will devote their lives to their country. I'll be more than happy to recommend you. If it's all right with you, we can go to Sendai together."

By this time the dinner trays had been removed, but Geki's ardor was in no way diminished. Impressed, but still cautious, Musashi replied, "I'll have to give it some thought before I can reply."

After they had said good night, Musashi went to his room, where he lay awake in the dark, his eyes glistening.

The Way of the Samurai. He concentrated on this concept as it applied to himself and to his sword.

Suddenly he saw the truth: the techniques of a swordsman were not his goal; he sought an all-embracing Way of the Sword. The sword was to be far more than a simple weapon; it had to be an answer to life's questions. The Way of Uesugi Kenshin and Date Masamune was too narrowly military, too hidebound. It would be up to him to add to its human aspect, to give it greater profundity, greater loftiness.

For the first time, he asked whether it was possible for an insignificant human being to become one with the universe.

A Gift of Money

Musashi's first waking thought was of Otsū and Jōtarō, and though he and Geki carried on a convivial conversation over breakfast, the problem of how to find them was very much on his mind. After emerging from the inn, he unconsciously scrutinized every face he encountered on the highroad. Once or twice he thought he saw Otsū ahead, only to find he was mistaken.

"You seem to be looking for someone," said Geki.

"I am. My companions and I got separated along the way, and I'm worried about them. I think I'd better give up the idea of going to Edo with you and search some of the other roads."

Disappointed, Geki said, "That's too bad. I was looking forward to traveling with you. I hope the fact that I talked too much last night won't change your mind about visiting Sendai."

Geki's manner, straightforward and masculine, appealed to Musashi. "That's very kind of you," he said. "I hope I have the chance someday."

"I want you to see for yourself how our samurai conduct themselves. And if you're not interested in that, then just regard it as a sightseeing trip. You can listen to the local songs and visit Matsushima. It's famous for its scenery, you know." Geki took his leave and headed briskly for Wada Pass.

Musashi turned around and went back to where the Kōshū highroad branched off from the Nakasendō. As he stood there mapping out his strategy, a group of day laborers from Suwa came up to him. Their dress suggested they were porters or grooms or bearers of the primitive palanquins used in these parts. They approached slowly, arms folded, looking like an army of crabs.

As their eyes rudely sized him up, one of them said, "Sir, you seem to be looking for someone. A beautiful lady, is it, or only a servant?"

Musashi shook his head, waved them off with a slightly disdainful gesture and turned away. He did not know whether to go east or west, but finally made up his mind to spend the day seeing what he could find out in the neighborhood. If his inquiries led nowhere, he could then proceed to the shōgun's capital with a clear conscience.

One of the laborers broke in upon his thoughts. "If you're looking for somebody, we could help you," he said. "It's better than standing around under the hot sun. What does your friend look like?"

Another added, "We won't even set a rate for our services. We'll leave it up to you."

Musashi relented to the extent of describing Otsū and Jōtarō in detail.

After consulting with his fellows, the first man said, "We haven't seen them, but if we split up we're sure to find them. The kidnappers must've taken one of the three roads between Suwa and Shiojiri. You don't know this area, but we do."

None too optimistic about his chances of success in such difficult terrain, Musashi said, "All right, go look for them."

"Done," shouted the men.

Again they huddled, ostensibly deciding who was to go where. Then the ringleader came forward, rubbing his hands together deferentially. "There's just one little thing, sir. You see ... I don't like to mention it, but we're just penniless laborers. Why, not one of us has had anything to eat yet today. Wonder if you couldn't advance us half a day's pay and, say, a little something extra. I guarantee we'll find your companions before sundown."

"Of course. I was planning to give you something."

The man named a figure, which Musashi found, after counting his money, was more than he had. He was not unmindful of the value of money, but being alone, with no one to support, his attitude was on the whole indifferent. Friends and admirers sometimes donated travel funds, and there were temples where he could often obtain free lodging. At other times, he slept in the open or went without ordinary food. One way or another, he had always managed to get by.

On this trip, he had left the finances to Otsū, who had received a sizable gift of travel money from Lord Karasumaru. She had been paying the bills and giving him a certain amount of spending money each morning, as any ordinary housewife might do.

Keeping only a little for himself, he distributed the rest of his money among the men, and though they'd expected more, they agreed to undertake the search as a "special favor."

"Wait for us by the two-story gate of the Suwa Myōjin Shrine," the spokesman advised. "By evening we'll be back with some news." They made off in several directions.

Rather than waste the day doing nothing, Musashi went to see Takashima Castle and the town of Shimosuwa, stopping here and there to note features of the local topography, which might come in handy at some future date, and to observe the methods of irrigation. He asked several times whether there were any outstanding military experts in the area, but heard nothing of interest.

As sundown drew near, he went to the shrine and sat down, tired and dispirited, on the stone stairway leading up to the two-story gate. No one showed up, so he took a turn around the spacious shrine grounds. But when he returned to the gate, there was still no one there.

Though not loud, the sound of horses stamping the ground began to get on his nerves. Descending the steps, he came upon a shed, obscured by the trees, where an ancient horsekeeper was feeding the shrine's sacred white horse.

He glanced at Musashi accusingly. "Can I help you?" he asked brusquely. "Do you have some business with the shrine?"

Upon hearing why Musashi was there, he broke out in uncontrollable laughter. Musashi, seeing nothing at all funny about his predicament, made no attempt to conceal a scowl. Before he spoke, however, the old man said, "You've no business being on the road by yourself. You're too innocent. Did you really believe roadside vermin would spend the whole day looking for your friends? If you paid them in advance, you'll never see them again."

"You mean you think they were just putting on an act when they divided up and left?"

The horsekeeper's expression changed to one of sympathy. "You've been robbed!" he said. "I heard there were about ten vagrants drinking and gambling in the grove on the other side of the mountain all day today. They're most likely the ones. These things happen all the time." He went on to tell some stories of travelers being cheated out of their money by unscrupulous laborers, but concluded mildly, "That's the way the world is. You'd better be more careful from now on."

With this sage advice, he picked up his empty pail and departed, leaving Musashi feeling foolish. "It's too late to do anything now," he sighed. "I pride myself on my ability not to give my opponent any opening, and then get taken in by a gang of illiterate workmen!" This evidence of his gullibility came like a slap in the face. Such lapses could easily muddy his practice of the Art of War. How could a man so easily deceived by his inferiors effectively command an army? As he climbed slowly toward the gate, he resolved to henceforth pay more attention to the ways of the world about him.

One of the laborers was peering around in the dark, and as soon as he caught sight of Musashi, he called to him and ran partway down the steps.

"Glad I found you, sir," he said. "I've got news about one of the people you're looking for."

"Oh?" Musashi, having just reprimanded himself for his naiveté, was astonished but gratified to know that not everyone in the world was a swindler. "By one of them, do you mean the boy or the woman?"

"The boy. He's with Daizō of Narai, and I've found out where Daizō is, or at least where he's headed."

"Where might that be?"

"I didn't think that bunch I was with this morning would do what they promised. They took the day off to gamble, but I felt sorry for you. I went from Shiojiri to Seba, asking everybody I ran into. Nobody knew anything about the girl, but I heard from the maid at the inn where I ate that Daizō passed through Suwa about noon today on his way to Wada Pass. She said he had a young boy with him."

Embarrassed, Musashi said rather formally, "It was good of you to let me know." He took out his money pouch, knowing it contained only enough for his own meal. He hesitated a moment, but reflecting that honesty should not go unrewarded, gave the laborer his last bit of cash.

Pleased with the tip, the man raised the money to his forehead in a gesture of thanks and went happily on his way.

Watching his money go down the road, Musashi felt he had used it for a purpose worthier than that of filling his stomach. Perhaps the laborer, having learned that right conduct can be profitable, would go out on the road the next day and help another traveler.

It was already dark, but he decided that instead of sleeping under the eaves of some peasant's house, he would cross Wada Pass. By traveling all night, he should be able to catch up with Daizō. He started off, savoring once again the satisfaction of being on a deserted road at night. Something about it appealed to his nature. Counting his footsteps, listening to the silent voice of the heavens above, he could forget everything and rejoice in his own being. When he was surrounded by crowds of busy people, his spirit often seemed sad and isolated, but now he felt alive and buoyant. He could think about life coolly and objectively, even appraise himself as he might appraise a total stranger.

A little after midnight, his musings were distracted by a light in the distance. He had been climbing steadily since crossing the bridge over the Ochiai River. One pass was behind him; the next one, at Wada, loomed up in the starry sky ahead, and beyond that the even higher crossing at Daimon. The light was in a hollow that ran parallel to the two ridges.

"It looks like a bonfire," he thought, feeling pangs of hunger for the first time in hours. "Maybe they'll let me dry off my sleeves, give me a bit of gruel or something."

As he drew near, he saw that it wasn't an outdoor fire but the light from a small roadside teahouse. There were four or five stakes for tying horses, but no horses. It seemed incredible that there would be anyone in such a place at this hour, yet he could hear the sound of raucous voices mingling with the crackling of the fire. He stood hesitantly under the eaves for a few minutes. If it had been a farmer's or a woodcutter's hut, he would have had no qualms about asking for shelter and some leftovers, but this was a place of business.

The smell of food made him hungrier than ever. The warm smoke enveloped him; he could not tear himself away. "Well, if I explain my situation to them, maybe they'll accept the statue as payment." The "statue" was the small image of Kannon he had carved from the wood of an ancient plum tree.

When he barged into the shop, the startled customers stopped talking. The interior was simple, a dirt floor with a hearth and fire hood in the middle, around which huddled three men on stools. Stewing in a pot was a mixture of boar's meat and giant radish. A jar of sake was warming in the ashes. Standing with his back to them, slicing pickles and chatting good-naturedly, was the proprietor.

"What do you want?" asked one of the customers, a keen-eyed man with long sideburns.

Too hungry to hear, Musashi passed by the men and, seating himself on the edge of a stool, said to the proprietor, "Give me something to eat, quick. Rice and pickles'll do. Anything."

The man poured some of the stew over a bowl of cold rice and set it before him. "Are you planning to cross the pass tonight?" he asked.

"Um," mumbled Musashi, who had already seized some chopsticks and was attacking the food with gusto. After his second mouthful, he asked, "Do you know if a man named Daizō—he comes from Narai—passed here this afternoon, going toward the pass? He has a young boy with him."

"I'm afraid I can't help you." Then, to the other men, "Tōji, did you or your friends see an older man traveling with a boy?"

After a bit of whispering, the three replied in the negative, shaking their heads in unison.

Musashi, filled and warmed by the hot food, began to worry about the bill. He'd hesitated discussing it with the proprietor first, due to the presence of the other men, but he didn't for a moment feel he was begging. It had simply seemed more important to tend to his stomach's needs first. He made up his mind that if the shopkeeper would not accept the statue, he'd offer him his dagger.

"I'm sorry to have to tell you this," he began, "but I don't have any cash at all. I'm not asking for a free meal, mind you. I have something here to offer in payment, if you'll take it."

With unexpected amiability, the proprietor replied, "I'm sure that'll be all right. What is it?"
"A statue of Kannon."
"A real statue?"

"Oh, it's not the work of a famous sculptor—just something I carved myself. It may not be worth even the price of a bowl of rice, but take a look at it anyway."

As he began untying the cords of his bag, the one he had carried for years, the three men left off drinking and focused their attention on his hands. Besides the statue, the bag contained a single change of underwear and a writing set. When he emptied out the contents, something fell with a clunk to the ground. The others gasped, for the object that lay at Musashi's feet was a money pouch, from which several gold and silver coins had spilled out. Musashi himself stared in speechless amazement.

"Where did that come from?" he wondered.

The other men craned their necks to gape at the treasure.

Feeling something else in the bag, Musashi pulled out a letter. It consisted of a single line, saying, "This should take care of your travel expenses for the time being," and was signed "Geki."

Musashi had a pretty clear idea of what it meant: it was Geki's way of trying to buy his services for Lord Date Masamune of Sendai and Aoba Castle. The increasing probability of a final clash between the Tokugawas and the Toyotomis made it imperative for the great daimyō to maintain sizable numbers of able fighters. A favorite method used in the cutthroat competition for the few really outstanding samurai was to attempt to get such men in debt, even for a small sum, and then forge a tacit agreement for future cooperation.

It was common knowledge that Toyotomi Hideyori was providing large sums of money to Gotō Matabei and Sanada Yukimura. Though Yukimura was ostensibly in retirement on Mount Kudo, so much gold and silver was being sent to him from Osaka Castle that Ieyasu had undertaken a full-scale investigation. Since the personal requirements of a retired general living in a hermitage were fairly modest, it was all but certain that the money was being passed on to several thousand indigent rōnin, who were idling away their time in nearby towns and cities waiting for the outbreak of hostilities.

BOOK: Musashi: Bushido Code
8.84Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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