Musashi: Bushido Code (8 page)

"Matahachi! Dead?"

"Well, actually, I'm not sure, but perhaps it'll be some comfort to you in your grief to know that I'll do everything possible to help you take revenge." Osugi eyed him skeptically. "Just who are you?"

"I'm with the Tokugawa garrison. We came to Himeji Castle after the battle. On orders from my lord, I've set up a barrier on the Harima Province border to screen everyone who crosses.

"This Takezō, from that house back there," he continued, pointing, "broke through the barrier and fled toward Miyamoto. We chased him all the way here. He's a tough one, all right. We thought that after a few days of walking he'd collapse, but we still haven't caught up with him. He can't go on forever, though. We'll get him."

Nodding as she listened, Osugi realized now why Takezō hadn't appeared at the Shippōji, and more importantly, that he probably hadn't gone home, since that was the first place the soldiers would search. At the same time, since it seemed he was traveling alone, her fury wasn't diminished in the least. But as for Matahachi being dead, she couldn't believe that either.

"I know Takezō can be as strong and cunning as any wild beast, sir," she said coyly, "But I shouldn't think that samurai of your caliber would have any trouble capturing him."

"Well, frankly, that's what I thought at first. But there aren't many of us and he's just killed one of my men."

"Let an old woman give you a few words of advice." Leaning over, she whispered something in his ear. Her words seemed to please him immensely.

He nodded his approval and enthusiastically exclaimed, "Good idea! Splendid!"

"Be sure to do a thorough job of it," urged Osugi as she took her leave.

Not long afterward, the samurai regrouped his band of fourteen or fifteen men behind Ogin's house. After he briefed them, they piled over the wall, surrounding the house and blocking all exits. Several soldiers then stormed into the house, leaving a trail of mud, and crowded into the inner room where the two young women sat commiserating and dabbing at their tear-stained faces.

Confronted by the soldiers, Otsū gasped and turned white. Ogin, however, proud to be the daughter of Munisai, was unperturbed. With calm, steely eyes, she stared indignantly at the intruders.

"Which one of you is Takezō's sister?" asked one of them.

"I am," replied Ogin coldly, "and I demand to know why you've entered this house without permission. I will not stand for such brutish behavior in a house occupied only by women." She had turned to face them directly.

The man who had been chatting with Osugi a few minutes earlier pointed to Ogin. "Arrest her!" he ordered.

Barely were the words out of his mouth before violence erupted, the house began to shake and the lights went out. Uttering a cry of terror, Otsū stumbled out into the garden, while at least ten of the soldiers fell upon Ogin and began tying her up with a rope. Despite her heroic resistance, it was all over in a few seconds. They then pushed her down onto the floor and began kicking her as hard as they could.

Otsū couldn't recall afterward which way she had come, but somehow she managed to escape. Barely conscious, she ran barefoot toward the Shippōji in the misty moonlight, relying completely on instinct. She had grown up in peaceful surroundings and now felt as though the world were caving in.

When she reached the foot of the hill where the temple stood, someone called to her. She saw a shape sitting on a rock among the trees. It was Takuan.

"Thank heaven it's you," he said. "I was really starting to worry. You never stay out this late. When I realized the time, I came out looking for you." He looked down toward the ground and asked, "Why are you barefoot?"

He was still gazing at Otsū's bare white feet when she rushed headlong into his arms and began wailing.

"Oh, Takuan! It was awful! What can we do?"

In a calm voice, he tried to soothe her. "There, there. What was awful? There aren't many things in this world that are all that bad. Calm down and tell me what happened."

"They tied Ogin up and took her away! Matahachi didn't come back, and now poor Ogin, who's so sweet and gentle—they were all kicking her. Oh, Takuan, we've got to do something!"

Sobbing and trembling, she clung desperately to the young monk, her head resting on his chest.

It was noon on a still, humid spring day, and a faint mist rose from the young man's sweating face. Takezō was walking alone in the mountains, whither he knew not. He was tired almost beyond endurance, but even at the sound of a bird alighting, his eyes would dart around. Despite the ordeal he'd been through, his mud-spattered body came alive with pent-up violence and the sheer instinct to survive.

"Bastards! Beasts!" he growled. In the absence of the real target of his fury, he swung his black-oak sword screeching through the air, slicing a thick branch off a large tree. The white sap that poured from the wound reminded him of a nursing mother's milk. He stood and stared. With no mother to turn to, there was only loneliness. Instead of offering him comfort, even the running streams and rolling hills of his own home seemed to mock him.

"Why are all the villagers against me?" he wondered. "The minute they see me, they report me to the guards on the mountain. The way they run when they catch sight of me, you'd think I was a madman."

He'd been hiding in the Sanumo mountains for four days. Now, through the veil of the midday mist, he could make out the house of his father, the house where his sister lived alone. Nestled in the foothills just below him was the Shippōji, the temple's roof jutting out from the trees. He knew he could approach neither place. When he'd dared go near the temple on the Buddha's birthday, crowded though it was, he'd risked his life. When he heard his name called, he had no choice but to flee. Aside from wanting to save his own neck, he knew that being discovered there would mean trouble for Otsū.

That night, when he'd gone stealthily to his sister's house, Matahachi's mother—as luck would have it—had been there. For a while he'd just stood outside, trying to come up with an explanation of Matahachi's whereabouts, but as he was watching his sister through a crack in the door, the soldiers had spotted him. Again he had to flee without having the chance to speak to anyone. Since then, it appeared from his refuge in the mountains that the Tokugawa samurai were keeping a very sharp eye out for him. They patrolled every road he might take, while at the same time the villagers had banded together to form search parties and were scouring the mountains.

He wondered what Otsū must think of him and began to suspect that even she had turned against him. Since it appeared that everyone in his own village regarded him as an enemy, he was stymied.

He thought: "It'd be too hard to tell Otsū the real reason her fiancé didn't come back. Maybe I should tell the old woman instead. . . . That's it! If I explain everything to her, she can break it gently to Otsū. Then there won't be any reason for me to hang around here."

His mind made up, Takezō resumed walking, but he knew that it would not do to go near the village before dark. With a large rock he broke another into small pieces and hurled one of them at a bird in flight. After it fell to earth, he barely paused to pluck its feathers before sinking his half-starved teeth into the warm, raw flesh. As he was devouring the bird, he started walking again but suddenly heard a stifled cry. Whoever had caught sight of him was scrambling away frantically through the woods. Angered at the idea of being hated and feared—persecuted—for no reason, he shouted, "Wait!" and began running like a panther after the fleeing form.

The man was no match for Takezō and was easily overtaken. It turned out to be one of the villagers who came to the mountains to make charcoal, and Takezō knew him by sight. Grabbing his collar, he dragged him back to a small clearing.

"Why are you running away? Don't you know me? I'm one of you, Shim-men Takezō of Miyamoto. I'm not going to eat you alive. You know, it's very rude to run away from people without even saying hello!"

"Y-y-y-y-yes, sir!"

"Sit down!"

Takezō released his grip on the man's arm, but the pitiful creature started to flee, forcing Takezō to kick his behind and make as if to strike him with his wooden sword. The man cringed on the ground like a simpering dog, his hands over his head.

"Don't kill me!" he screamed pathetically.

"Just answer my questions, all right?"

"I'll tell you anything—just don't kill me! I have a wife and family." "Nobody's going to kill you. I suppose the hills are crawling with soldiers, aren't they?"

"Yes."

"Are they keeping close watch on the Shippōji?"

"Yes."

"Are the men from the village hunting for me again today?"

Silence.

"Are you one of them?"

The man jumped to his feet, shaking his head like a deaf-mute. "No, no, no!"

"That's enough," shouted Takezō. Taking a firm grip on the man's neck, he asked, "What about my sister?"

"What sister?"

"My sister, Ogin, of the House of Shimmen. Don't play dumb. You promised to answer my questions. I don't really blame the villagers for trying to capture me, because the samurai are forcing them to do it, but I'm sure they'd never do anything to hurt her. Or would they?"

The man replied, too innocently, "I don't know anything about that. Nothing at all."

Takezō swiftly raised his sword above his head in position to strike. "Watch it! That sounded very suspicious to me. Something has happened, hasn't it? Out with it, or I'll smash your skull!"

"Wait! Don't! I'll talk! I'll tell you everything!"

Hands folded in supplication, the trembling charcoal-maker told how Ogin had been taken away a prisoner, and how an order had been circulated in the village to the effect that anyone providing Takezō with food or shelter would automatically be regarded as an accomplice. Each day, he reported, the soldiers were leading villagers into the mountains, and each family was required to furnish one young man every other day for this purpose.

The information caused Takezō to break out in goose pimples. Not fear. Rage. To make sure he'd heard right, he asked, "What crime has my sister been charged with?" His eyes were glistening with moisture.

"None of us knows anything about it. We're afraid of the district lord. We're just doing what we're told, that's all."

"Where have they taken my sister?"

"Rumor has it that they've got her in Hinagura stockade, but I don't know if that's true."

"Hinagura . . ." repeated Takezō. His eyes turned toward the ridge that marked the provincial border. The backbone of the mountains was already spotted with the shadows of gray evening clouds.

Takezō let the man go. Watching him scramble away, grateful to have his meager life spared, made Takezō's stomach turn at the thought of the cowardice of humanity, the cowardice that forced samurai to pick on a poor helpless woman. He was glad to be alone again. He had to think.

He soon reached a decision. "I have to rescue Ogin, and that's that. My poor sister. I'll kill them all if they've harmed her." Having chosen his course of action, he marched down toward the village with long manly strides.

A couple of hours later, Takezō again furtively approached the Shippōji. The evening bell had just stopped tolling. It was already dark and lights could be seen coming from the temple itself, the kitchen and the priests' quarters, where people seemed to be moving about.

"If only Otsū would come out," he thought.

He crouched motionless under the raised passageway—it was of the sort that had a roof but no walls—which connected the priests' rooms with the main temple. The smell of food being cooked floated in the air, conjuring up visions of rice and steaming soup. For the past few days, Takezō had had nothing in his stomach but raw bird meat and grass shoots, and his stomach now rebelled. His throat burned as he vomited up bitter gastric juices, and in his misery he gasped loudly for breath.

"What was that?" said a voice.

"Probably just a cat," answered Otsū, who came out carrying a dinner tray and started crossing the passageway directly over Takezō's head. He tried to call to her, but was still too nauseated to make an intelligible sound.

This, as it happened, was a stroke of luck, because just then a male voice just behind Otsū inquired, "Which way is the bath?"

The man was wearing a kimono borrowed from the temple, tied with a narrow sash from which dangled a small washcloth. Takezō recognized him as one of the samurai from Himeji. Evidently he was of high rank, high enough to lodge at the temple and pass his evenings eating and drinking his fill while his subordinates and the villagers had to scour mountainsides day and night searching for the fugitive.

"The bath?" said Otsū. "Come, I'll show you."

She set her tray down and began leading him along the passageway. Suddenly the samurai rushed forward and hugged her from behind.

"How about joining me in the bath?" he suggested lecherously.

"Stop that! Let go of me!" cried Otsū, but the man, turning her around, held

her face in both big hands and brushed his lips against her cheek. "What's wrong!" he cajoled. "Don't you like men!"

"Stop it! You shouldn't do that!" protested the helpless Otsū. The soldier then clapped his hand over her mouth.

Takezō, oblivious of the danger, leapt up onto the passageway like a cat and thrust his fist at the man's head from behind. The blow was a hard one. Momentarily defenseless, the samurai fell backward, still clinging to Otsū. As she tried to break away from his hold, she let out a shrill scream. The fallen man began shouting, "It's him! It's Takezō! He's here! Come and take him!"

The rumble of feet and the roar of voices thundered from inside the temple. The temple bell began signaling the alarm that Takezō had been discovered, and from the woods throngs of men began converging on the temple grounds. But Takezō was already gone, and before long search parties were once again sent out to scour the hills of Sanumo. Takezō himself hardly knew how he'd slipped through the swiftly tightening net, but by the time the chase was in full swing he found himself standing far away, at the entrance to the large dirt-floored kitchen of the Hon'iden house.