47 Ronin

by John Allyn

  Lord Daté of Yoshida, a trim athletic-looking fellow in his thirties, was Lord Asano’s counterpart in rank and assignment. Both their names had been drawn by lot to be official representatives of the Shogun at this reception of the Emperor’s envoys from Kyoto, an annual affair that represented one of the few contacts between the Emperor, who was ruler in name only, and the Shogun, whose recent ancestors had unified the country by military action and who was the actual head of the government.

  Both Lord Asano and Lord Daté had tried to decline the honor on the grounds that they were unfamiliar with court etiquette, but neither had been successful. They had been put under Kira’s wing to learn the protocol for the occasion and were completely dependent on him to coach them through their various functions. Daté had little trouble with Kira, however, while Lord Asano was constantly being ridiculed about his “country manners.” Now, at the start of the final day, Lord Daté looked cool and complacent while his fellow participant was noticeably apprehensive.

  “Good morning,” Lord Asano said, with a perfunctory bow.

  “Good morning, Lord Asano,” smiled Daté. “You’re early, aren’t you?”

  “So are you,” retorted Lord Asano. “Maybe you’re more nervous than you appear.”

  Daté laughed. “You’re the nervous one. Anyone would think you were going into battle.”

  “I wish it were a battle,” Lord Asano said testily. “I’m a country boy with no talent for getting along with these fancy-pants courtiers. Men like Kira,” and he spoke the name distastefully, “are of lower rank than we, yet we are supposed to jump when they give the word.” He shook his head. “I just don’t seem to know my place here.”

  “I don’t know why you should have so much trouble with Kira,” said Daté with a sly smile. “He’s treated me with respect, even though I’m as clumsy as you about the ceremonies.”

  Lord Asano looked at him warily. “Don’t think I don’t know your secret, Lord Daté. You knuckled under to his demands and have paid him off. . . .”

  “I did no such thing!” Daté interrupted angrily.

  “Then your councilors did it for you and that doesn’t reflect credit on you either—not to know what’s going on in your own house!”

  Daté’s face reddened and he was about to respond in kind when the sliding doors to the hall within opened and Lord Kira himself stepped ponderously out. He smiled condescendingly at the group in the waiting room, revealing his fashionably blackened teeth, and Lord Asano shuddered as he always did at such signs of decadence. The nuts chewed to achieve such an effect were expensive and he considered such practice the height of vulgarity, quite contrary to the tenets of frugality taught by Buddha and Confucius alike. In his view, Kira represented the epitome of all that was wrong with the court. He was corrupt, vain, and self-important—about as far from the traditional ideal of a samurai as it was possible to be.

  Kira looked pointedly at Lord Asano after the customary bows of greeting had been exchanged, hoping for some sign of a change in attitude. Surely, he thought, there must be some way to get to this noble idiot. Perhaps stronger insults would be more effective with such a proud young man. At least it was worth one more try and there was no better time than the present. He knew he was safe; drawing a sword in the castle, no matter what the circumstances, was a capital offense.

  As Kira started to move toward him, Lord Asano instinctively turned away in what could only be interpreted as a gesture of disdain. The black-clad Master of Ceremonies halted in surprise then angrily changed his course to approach Lord Daté instead. This rude act was the last straw and Kira, his blood rising, knew now that it was useless to go on trying to collect his bribe. He resolved that Lord Asano would pay for his incorruptibility—and his rudeness.

  As Kira’s instructions to Lord Daté went on, Lord Asano felt a tremendous depression settle over him. He knew that his own self-indulgence had once again cost him Kira’s good will. If Kira neglected him now, he would be at a complete loss to know what to do during the ceremony. He felt a moment of panic as he anticipated the disgrace he would bring on his family name if he should commit some terrible breach of etiquette. After all, Kira was the recognized expert on such matters and the least he could do was be civil to the man, even if he despised him.

  He was trying to compose some statement of apology when the outside door opened. His pulse quickened at the thought that it might be the Imperial envoys, but he breathed easier when he saw that it was only an attendant of the Shogun’s mother who entered. He was a pop-eyed, plump little man named Kajikawa whom Lord Asano would ordinarily have ignored, but on this occasion he was astute enough not to reveal his true feelings. As Kajikawa looked timidly around the room, Lord Asano smiled encouragingly.

  The smile worked and Kajikawa scurried over, sinking into an exaggerated bow of respect as he arrived. Then he lifted his head with a froggy smile. . . .

  “Lord Asano,” he said in a lisping rush of words, “I have heard that there’s been a change in the time schedule and I would like to know what it is so that I can tell our exalted Shogun’s mother. If it wouldn’t be too much trouble. . . .” he finished on the correct note of uncertainty.

  Lord Asano’s eyes went involuntarily to Kira as the only one who could answer and was discomfited to find that Kira was smiling blackly back at him and had obviously heard the question.

  “Don’t bother to ask that dolt anything,” Kira said loudly and in his grandest manner. “If it’s a question about the ceremony, ask me or Lord Daté, or one of the servants—even they know more about what’s going on than Lord Asano!”

  Kajikawa’s face turned red and his eyes popped wider than ever as he bowed uncertainly, then stood in indecision. Lord Asano had gone dead white and stood as stiffly as if he had been turned to stone. Kajikawa felt a sudden twinge of dread and moved away toward the sliding doors to the assembly hall. He did not want to humiliate Lord Asano any further by going to anyone else in the room, and decided to ask his question of one of the courtiers inside. He had started to open the door when he saw Lord Kira move majestically across the room to stop in front of Lord Asano and say something to him in low tones. He could not be sure but it sounded like Kira was making some reference to Lord Asano’s wife.

  Lord Asano, too, had trouble believing his ears as Kira spoke.

  “You could have saved yourself all this trouble, you know,” he said insinuatingly. “If your money means so much to you, there are other ways to satisfy my taste for delicacies. I hear you have a pretty wife with a round moonlike face. . . .”

  Lord Asano could take no more. The blood drained from his face and pounded in his chest, and his sword arm jerked to the hilt of his weapon. Kira’s hand went instinctively to his own sword, although he had no intention of drawing it, but this was a tragic mistake. Lord Asano saw the move as an acceptance of his challenge and his sword blade flashed naked as he raised it high and slashed down in blind fury. Kira, struck high on the shoulder, stumbled and fell. Lord Asano raised his arm to strike again but Lord Daté and some of the others rushed forward to seize him. There was a second’s stillness, broken only when Kajikawa gulped loudly and hurried away into the inner room.

  Lord Asano went slack with a shudder as he looked down at the still figure of Kira and then at the men who took both his swords from him. He was still standing motionless, a glazed look in his eyes, when the sliding doors opened again and the Shogun Tsunayoshi himself stepped into the room. Behind him could be seen a group of boys in dance costume, all strangely silent and grotesquely frozen in position.

  Tsunayoshi, more feminine appearing than ever in his dance costume, was not prepared for the sight which greeted him. He caught his breath sharply, then staggered back as though he might fall. Some of those present could guess what was going through his mind.

  It was just seventeen years ago that a similar incident had taken place in this very room, and during all these years Tsunayoshi had been haunted by it. It had been his own pr
ime minister who had been struck down at that time, instantly killed by a junior member of the court, who, it was said, resented the prime minister’s taking over too many powers that rightly belonged to the Shogun. It was also said, behind closed doors, that Tsunayoshi himself was responsible for the attack, although this was never proved. The assassin was executed on the spot by the assembled lords, and his motives remained a secret.

  Now it was as though the whole scene was being played out again before his eyes and he was plainly unnerved by the sight. A sudden rage took hold of him and the blood rushed to his face as he stamped forward to stand by Kira’s motionless body. With a grimace of distaste, the Shogun ordered two servants to carry his no longer impeccable Master of Cere-monies into an anteroom, then turned to the others.

  “What’s happened here?” he demanded to know, but there was no immediate reply. “You, there,” he said to Lord Daté. “Tell me what happened.”

  Daté released Lord Asano’s arm and bowed, swallowing hard as he did so. Then he straightened and spoke briefly and formally, as though reporting to a superior on the field of battle.

  “Lord Asano evidently took offense at something Lord Kira said. We saw that he was shocked. We saw that he drew his sword and struck Lord Kira. It was as though something beyond him was forcing . . .”

  “He drew his sword and struck Kira?” interrupted the Shogun. “Does anyone know what Kira said to him to cause him to behave in such a lawless manner?”

  No one answered, least of all Kajikawa, who was peeking through the sliding doors to the inner room and who knew when to keep his mouth shut.

  “Very well, then, hold him here,” said Tsunayoshi icily. He turned to Lord Asano. “You have no regard, sir, for the propriety of this court?”

  “I’m sorry,” said Lord Asano as he knelt and bowed his head to the floor. “I have no excuse.”

  “There are rules for every occasion,” Tsunayoshi went on, “carefully thought out rules which everyone must obey. I make no exceptions in this regard—not even of my own kinsmen. Ignorance of the rules might make some difference, but I’m sure that you, sir, after so many years as a daimyo cannot claim such an exemption.”

  “No . . . no,” murmured Lord Asano, feeling sure he must be having a bad dream from which he would soon wake.

  Tsunayoshi turned to the others. “The crime is clear enough. So is the penalty. You will please keep this man in custody while I confer with my councilors. In the meantime the ceremony will have to be delayed.”

  He made an expression of distaste at the bloodstains on the floor, then turned away and started to go back through the sliding doors to the large hall beyond. One of his retinue of courtiers appeared in the doorway, but stepped back obsequiously to make way for the Shogun.

  “It’s terrible,” said the Shogun to the courtier. “All our plans upset because of one irresponsible samurai who never learned how to behave in the castle. It may even mean canceling our dance performance.”

  Then they were gone and Lord Asano was left alone with his captors. He continued to kneel and look steadfastly at the floor while the rest of those present watched him in awed silence. His face maintained a stony calm, but inside his stomach was churning so that it was difficult to think straight. He felt close to being sick but took a firmer grip on himself, resolving to show nothing of weakness. His only thought was that he must prove to all that he did know his place.

  An hour passed in silence before the sound of marching men was heard from outside. Lord Tamura, the red-faced and bustling daimyo of Ichinoseki, burst in a side entrance with a squad of samurai and then stood indecisively when he saw Lord Asano’s rigid pose. Lord Tamura had been a former high constable, which was presumably why Tsunayoshi had summoned him, but in this assignment he felt at a loss. It was easy to be commanding when dealing with the thieves and pickpockets of Edo, but to arrest a fellow daimyo was something else again. He approached the kneeling man with reluctance and placed his hand on his shoulder.

  “By our Shogun’s order,” he said, and Lord Asano obediently got up to follow him out. There was a palanquin waiting outside along with a dozen samurai and more than thirty servants, but none of the faces were familiar and he looked around in vain for Kataoka. He was about to step into the palanquin when he was stopped by a word from Tamura who, in some embarrassment, handed him a cheap servant’s dress and asked him to put it on over his court robes. Lord Asano was astounded by this effrontery until he realized that it was for his own benefit. In this garb he would not be recognized as he rode through the streets of Edo and would be spared public humiliation. With an expression of distaste he put it on and got in the palanquin, after which Lord Tamura had a large net thrown over it and the whole rig tied around with rope so there could be no chance of his prisoner escaping and bringing disgrace on his keeper. Then the order was given to move out and the procession set off for Lord Tamura’s mansion. As they rounded the corner at the guard shack they passed close by the waiting Kataoka, who knew nothing of what had happened in the castle and had no idea that it was Lord Asano who passed by him as a prisoner.

  It was afternoon before Kataoka really began to worry about his master. The ceremonies appeared to be over and the various lords summoned their palanquins and departed, but there was still no sign of Lord Asano. Finally he recognized Lord Daté’s palanquin and hurried forward to intercept him.

  Lord Daté was still stunned by the events of the morning and for a moment did not understand Kataoka’s polite question. As to what had happened to Lord Asano he had no clear idea himself except that he had been taken away by Lord Tamura. Then he realized that Kataoka knew nothing of the attack on Kira, and tried to think of some diplomatic way of telling him and in effect breaking the news to all of Lord Asano’s followers and family.

  “Your master is at Lord Tamura’s. I suggest you go there immediately.”

  “Is something wrong?” asked Kataoka in sudden alarm.

  “There was an accident. . . .Lord Kira and your master were involved. . . .”

  There was a short silence while Kataoka digested what he had been told. When he understood all the implications he felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach and his mouth grew dry.

  “Then there is no need for the palanquin to wait?” he stammered.

  Lord Daté shook his head, then paused for a moment to see that Kataoka was capable of taking some positive action before he moved on. After all, it was the least he could do for a fellow daimyo.

  With a quick bow of thanks Kataoka moved away. He did not dare to break the prohibition against running within the castle grounds but he reached Lord Asano’s palanquin within the least possible time. Although his brain was whirling he composed a brief message for the bearers to take back to Hara. The men were from Ako and could be trusted, but still they were of lowly rank and did not have to know all the facts. He told their leader only that Lord Asano had decided to visit Lord Tamura and had gone to his mansion by other means. They were to return to their own quarters and give Hara the message that he was to join Kataoka at Tamura’s immediately. Then he walked briskly beside them out of the castle grounds, back over the bridge across the moat and into the city streets. Now he could set his own pace and he ran as though devils were pursuing him in spite of the crush of the crowd. How could such a thing happen, his mind kept screaming, how could such a thing happen to his beloved master? . . .

  At Tamura’s mansion, Lord Asano was treated with politeness and even allowed to borrow a simple robe from his captor to replace his ludicrously out-of-place ceremonial trousers and kamishimo. Those present did not attempt to talk to him, being understandably unsure of his status, and he was put in a small, white-walled anteroom and allowed paper and brush to write a note to his wife. With an effort he managed to collect his thoughts and had begun a brief account of what had happened, stressing the inevitability of his showdown with Kira, when he was interrupted by the sounds of the arrival of one of the censors of Edo and two assistants.
As official instruments of the Shogun’s Council they had brought its sentence and Lord Asano heard them whisper it to Lord Tamura in the next room. He knew by Lord Tamura’s shocked reaction that the sentence was a harsh one and that could mean only one thing—death! The rest of their whispers meant little to him: “. . . councilors opposed . . .Tsunayoshi adamant . . . his own chief councilor was struck down in similar fashion some years ago . . . an example must be made. . . .”

  Lord Tamura then came respectfully into the room and bowed low. “Our merciful Shogun has decreed that your execution should be swift and you should therefore be grateful to him. You have also been granted the privilege of dying in an honorable manner because of your rank,” he said. Lord Asano remained silent and Tamura regarded his stoical acceptance of the verdict with approval. Then he added the final part of the sentence: “All property held in your name will be confiscated and placed under the protection of the Shogun’s government until further notice.”

  In his mind Lord Asano heard the howling of the dogs again and felt the helpless sinking he had known in his dream, but he only stared at the blank white wall in front of him until Lord Tamura bowed and withdrew. After a moment Lord Asano bent forward to continue his letter but he was still not finished when Lord Tamura came back with the censor and his assistants. They waited for him to conclude his message and for the note to dry and be sealed. Then the censor stepped forward and started to help him rise. With dignity and authority Lord Asano shook off his arm and stood unaided. He had already started to follow Lord Tamura out into the garden when there was a commotion in the entry way. Kataoka had arrived and breathlessly asked to be allowed to see his master. Lord Tamura conferred briefly with the censor and the request was granted, although they stood close by, anxious to conclude matters as swiftly as possible. Kataoka hesitated before the others, but could not control his emotions and burst forth in a heartfelt apology for not having been aware of the terrible events in the castle. Lord Asano raised his hand.