by John Allyn
“I’ll personally help you find a house,” Chisaka interrupted, anxious to keep Kira from moving into his own master’s castle.
“But I need more than a house,” Kira insisted. “I need guards on duty at all times and a place for them to stay.”
Then he added in a softly insinuating manner: “Not that I’m afraid for myself, you understand, but after all, our houses are related and I wouldn’t want Lord Uesugi to be embarrassed by an incident.”
“You’ll get everything you need,” Chisaka promised hastily, although inwardly he was groaning at the thought of the expense. It was worth it to him only if it accomplished the purpose of keeping Kira and his problems at a distance. The Asano affair was turning out to be a troublesome problem, but for the time being at least he could do nothing but put up with it.
“And now that matters are settled, won’t you have some tea?” he asked his guest with a forced smile.
Kira hesitated, then forced a black smile of his own.
“Why not? We should become better acquainted since I’m sure we’ll be seeing much more of each other in the future.”
And they sat down together as Chisaka summoned a servant to bring them tea, however bitter it might taste to both of them.
Chapter Eight
Twelve days from the time Oishi’s group left Kyoto they arrived in Edo, their entourage intact, including the spy Fujii who now kept a more respectful distance between them. On their way into the city, they paused briefly at Sengaku-ji, a small temple and burial ground where Lord Asano was buried. Here Oishi went alone to pour purifying water from a slender bamboo dipper over the base of the stone marker. Then he left the grave wearily after bowing deeply and reassuring his lord that he could be depended upon as always.
He rejoined the others outside the temple and they proceeded into the city. The unfamiliar streets were crowded and noisy, and Oishi shuddered at the disquieting press of humanity on all sides. It was getting late in the day when they found a small downtown inn and settled for the night. He was in no great hurry to confront his rebellious followers, and besides, there was another important visit he had to make after resting and dressing in something more seemly than his traveling clothes. His stomach was hurting him again so he ate little and went to bed early. Even after dark, however, the streets of the city rang with the barking of the dogs, and he tossed restlessly. He had never felt at ease in Edo and it was not until he turned his thoughts to Yamashina and his family that his mind became composed and he at last fell asleep.
The next day he paid the call he had been looking forward to—he went to visit Lady Asano at the home of her parents. He was not sure he would be allowed to see her, but happily he found no guards present and was taken to her without incident.
She was dressed in a nunlike robe and her manner was subdued as she received him in the small bare room off the garden into which she had exiled herself. There were Buddhist sutras lying on the floor by the writing table and Oishi surmised that she spent her days and nights patiently copying them, hoping to find some peace of mind from the tragedy that had overtaken her.
“I hope all your family is well,” she said with an unaccustomed smile, and he knew she was really asking about her own daughter.
“They are all well—even the little one who has gone to stay with friends.” He had written to her earlier of course about the adoption, but knew that words on a page are a poor substitute for personal assurances.
“Have you seen her lately?”
“No, my lady, I think it best that I stay away lest others learn of my unusual interest in the daughter of an Imperial courtier. At the least I would be accused of meddling in politics.”
He tried to make a joke of it but there was no smile on Lady Asano’s face as she continued to ask questions all around the subject of her daughter’s whereabouts. “And is this Imperial courtier quite high up in the court?”
“Quite high up,” Oishi said briefly, determined for her own sake and for that of her daughter never to reveal the name of the man who had adopted her.
“Then I’m sure she’ll have the advantage of a good education, as befits a child of nobility,” Lady Asano said with a hopeful note in her voice.
“I’m sure she will,” he agreed and then turned the discussion to the petition. Lady Asano asked polite questions but her enthusiasm seemed feigned, and Oishi was discouraged to see that she had little faith that what had been done under the law would be undone. Without giving away any hint of his plans he simply told her that he was still his lord’s follower and would always remain so. For a moment her thoughts turned outward from herself and she saw him in the role he had chosen—that of the last defender of the name of Asano who would carry that banner as long as there was the breath of life in him. She asked him to wait a moment and went into another room. When she came back she had a letter. It was the one Lord Asano had written the night before he died and she asked Oishi to take it with him and read it. When he left, her cheeks were stained with tears but she was smiling more peacefully, and he told himself that his visit had not been in vain. He also told himself that he must never come here again in order to avoid implicating her in his future actions.
On the way out he asked to be shown around the grounds by a servant and noted the locations of the various gates. He had it in the back of his mind that someday he would bring mother and daughter together again, although he had not mentioned any such plan to Lady Asano for fear of arousing false hopes.
The same day Oishi went to see Araki at his home to thank him for his efforts and to learn how the petition was faring. Araki received him cordially, pleased to see by Oishi’s manner that he was not in Edo on a mission of protest or violence. As always, he was conducting himself with the dignity expected of a chief retainer, and Araki was more impressed with him than ever. Unfortunately, the graying old soldier had nothing promising to report; the councilors were taking their time about disposing of the case and he could only apologize for the inconvenience it was causing. They had tea together, discussed the local weather, and parted on a note of mutual understanding. This, Oishi reflected, was better than nothing, but hardly gave him ammunition for his coming encounter with his young rebels.
Courtesy demanded that he make one more call while he was in Edo. The official spokesmen for the house of Asano were Daigaku Asano and his uncle Lord Toda, and it was to the mansion of the latter that he now made his way.
It was a large estate, although in somewhat run-down condition, and Oishi made an expression of distaste as he stepped over the body of a mangy dog at the threshold. It might have been sleeping or dead, but in either case he took it as a bad omen.
His visit was unexpected and he found that Lord Toda was out. Daigaku, however, still under official house arrest, was glad to receive him as a visitor. He was a thin, nervous young man who danced around uttering little cries of welcome while his close-set eyes darted over Oishi’s face to find a clue to his true intentions. Finally he stopped, laid a finger alongside one nostril, and sniffed vigorously.
“I’m so glad to see you,” he repeated for the tenth time. “It’s been so long.”
Oishi nodded formally. “I trust Your Lordship has been well.”
“I’m afraid I haven’t been . . . these pains in my chest. . . .I really don’t know what to do for them.”
“We’ve all been under a strain,” Oishi told him. “You’ll feel better when things are back to normal again.”
“If they ever are,” Daigaku said bitterly. “But that’s something that may never happen.”
“You’ve had no encouragement about your appointment as your brother’s successor?”
“No—but Lord Toda tells me I still have a chance.” Then he added hastily, “That’s why we must wait and see. There’s no point in jeopardizing my chances.”
“No, of course not. . . .”
They were interrupted by a sound in the hallway and in a moment Lord Toda entered in some haste. Daigaku smiled in reli
ef. He was glad to have his uncle present during Oishi’s visit.
Lord Toda, a short bristling man with a no-nonsense manner, was the complete opposite of his ineffectual young nephew. He came directly to the point with Oishi after they had exchanged bows and formal greetings.
“I hear there is agitation among some of your men for action against Kira.”
Oishi looked at him closely, then nodded. “There are many who feel that to take the life of the miserable scoundrel who caused our master’s death is the only honorable path to follow.”
Lord Toda snorted. “Insanity . . . sheer insanity. Don’t they know Kira lives within the Shogun’s walls? Do they have any idea how thick those walls are and how well guarded?”
“They are aware of those facts, Lord Toda, but perhaps at a later date . . .”
“Nonsense,” Toda interrupted him. “The Shogun’s orders to the men of Ako were to surrender and disband and that must be the end of it. . . . I hear you did a fine job of transferring the castle and I thank you for it. That’s the kind of action that will save our family name. Not causing more bloodshed like that hot-headed young . . .”
He was about to say Lord Asano’s name, but stopped when he saw the look in Oishi’s eyes.
“Well, no matter. What’s done is done. But at least we can do everything in our power to keep things from getting worse.”
“And what of Lord Daigaku’s chances of succession?” Oishi asked politely, determined to hear all viewpoints on this vital question.
Lord Toda paced up and down the room. “I believe the chances are good—providing we do nothing to upset the Shogun further. When time has passed and tempers have had a chance to cool, I think everyone will look at this matter in a different light. With our long history of faithful service, I can’t believe we could lose everything overnight. But patience must be our watchword.” He paused to look at Oishi closely. “Patience and forbearance at all times—that’s how we’ll win our goal.”
Oishi bowed politely and Lord Toda seemed satisfied that he had understood. Tea was served and a short while later Oishi left. He was thinking that he was glad he had confronted the old man and the young heir if only to see how weak they were. It was plain that the responsibility for revenge was his alone.
That night a tall, thin man wearing the two swords of a samurai called at the castle of Uesugi and was admitted to an audience with the chief councilor, Chisaka.
“At your service,” the tall man said with a deep voice, and bowed low to his diminutive superior.
“Well, and where is he now?” Chisaka demanded to know. “I trust you have him under constant surveillance?”
“I know exactly where he is. At a meeting in a restaurant in the suburbs.”
“A meeting?”
“A meeting with the Ako men who stayed behind in Edo when their master was killed.”
“Executed, you mean. And why aren’t you at the meeting, learning about their plans?”
“I wasn’t invited,” said Fujii drily. “Besides they know my face now and aren’t likely to take me into their confidence.”
Chisaka was about to pose another ill-tempered question but Fujii anticipated him.
“Never fear—the meeting is being covered by one of my men disguised as a servant, although I doubt if he’ll learn much of value.”
Chisaka looked at him coldly. “You just take care of the spying, Fujii. I’ll decide what’s of value.”
Fujii silently bowed, but Chisaka thought he detected a sardonic grin on the thin man’s face.
“What makes you so sure they’re not plotting to attack Kira right now?” the little man cried out in irritation.
Fujii paused, then shrugged.
“They have an intelligent leader—one who won’t let them act out of rashness. And what can they do about removing Kira’s head while he’s safe in the castle?”
Chisaka smiled condescendingly. “You’d better leave the conjecturing to me, my friend. I have other sources of information besides you and am in a better position to fit the pieces together.”
Fujii smiled uncertainly. Perhaps he had gone too far with his sarcasm.
“I’m sorry if I offended you. In the future I’ll stick to my part of the job,” he said, with only the faintest trace of the distaste he felt.
“Right,” Chisaka agreed. “And if you do well, there’ll be a permanent place for you here, as I promised. We were fortunate to have discovered each other when we did. A ronin with knowledge of the Kyoto area was what I needed just when you needed a roof over your head.”
Fujii was silent. He did not like to be reminded of his past.
“Now, will you do as I say and get back on the job?”
As Fujii scrambled to bow low, Chisaka threw him the tidbit of information he had been saving.
“You see, my uninformed friend, things are a little more precarious now since Kira is no longer staying in the castle!”
“It’s true,” Horibe said, his topknot trembling, “Kira is no longer in the castle!”
He stood before a group of fifteen loyal Ako men, including Oishi and Hara and seven others from Kyoto and Osaka. The room he had rented for the occasion was over a noisy restaurant which allowed them to speak without fear of being overheard, and now there was a general murmur of excitement at his words.
“Then what are we waiting for?” cried one of the Edo group. “Let’s attack now!”
Oishi’s heart leaped, too, but he deliberately forced himself to think rationally. He rose before the group and they became quiet again in the face of his authority.
“You fools,” he said coldly. “What kind of fighting force do you call yourselves, ready to go off half-cocked at any new rumor! If Horibe can confirm this news it will certainly influence our plans, but don’t forget that our main body of troops is far away at the moment and we’ll need every man of them if we are to succeed.” He paused to take a breath, then nodded to Horibe to continue.
“Kira,” the young man said with a grimace that would have chilled the blood of the man he named, “is about to be relieved of his official duties. He was moved this morning into the suburbs on the far side of the Sumida River. I followed him there myself.”
“You have done your work well,” Oishi acknowledged.
Horibe smiled, but it was not a pleasant smile. “I can tell you many things about Kira,” he said, and then set forth in detail what he had learned about Kira’s treatment of Lord Asano, about his record of corruption in the office and even about the system of defenses at his new home. Although he had a company of archers at his disposal and was reputedly an excellent swordsman, Kira was plainly afraid of them.
As Horibe concluded his report with a threat to justify such fears, the grizzled Hara felt obliged to express his feelings.
“There are those in Osaka who say even now that we have no real intention of doing anything about taking revenge. Hasn’t the time come to show them they are wrong?” He refrained from looking at their leader and was unaware of how deeply his words hurt him, but Oishi, as always, put his personal feelings aside. He patiently explained to them all once more that the welfare of their lord’s house came first and that meant waiting for a decision on the petition. He knew it was difficult for them to maintain themselves in a state of readiness for an attack which might never be made, but as their leader he had to ask it.
“But don’t you see,” cried Horibe, “this is only a tactic on the part of the councilors. They have no intention of ever giving the land to Daigaku. They’re deliberately stalling to lead us into the confused state in which we find ourselves. They know that waiting will lower our morale and eventually destroy us. We are only playing into their hands by doing nothing!”
Oishi sighed and turned to confront him. “But we’re under constant surveillance. At Yamashina we’re spied on around the clock and we were followed all the way to Edo. You here in Edo must be under even stricter watch. Don’t you realize that at the first sign of an attack, the
alarm would be flashed to Kira’s powerful relatives to come and save him? Would you go to the scene of a fire in a straw raincoat? Where would our men’s morale be after a futile attempt on Kira’s life left the streets red with their blood?”
There was a light knock at the door and all fell silent as the man nearest the entrance admitted a servant with more tea. The man entered and moved so slowly that Hara growled at him until he took the hint and speeded up his action. Then they waited until he was let out the door.
“We know there are spies,” muttered Horibe with a glance after the servant, “but we can avoid them if our plans are made carefully. I’m not asking that we attack tonight or tomorrow, but I do say that a date should be set—certainly no later than next March. In case you’ve forgotten, that’s the anniversary of our lord’s death and by then Kira must certainly be dealt with in one way or another. Can anyone persuade himself that we can wait more than a year and still maintain our reputations as brave men?”
The others agreed so vigorously that Oishi kept silent, desperately trying to think of some way to avoid committing himself. They were plainly all against him, even Hara, whom he had counted on for some support. It had probably been a mistake to send Hara here in the first place where he could be so easily inflamed by the fiery tempers of the younger men. Still, he had been successful in keeping them from acting on their own and that was something to be thankful for. Perhaps Horibe was right and there would be some decision before March. In any event he now realized that he could no longer stand against them.
“Very well,” he said, disguising his reluctance and his true intentions. “We will plan on settling this matter in March. I will return to Yamashina and begin to prepare.”
The others were overjoyed to hear this long awaited signal for action and shouted noisily and clapped one another on the back. Oishi was silent until Hara approached him, once more apologetic, to raise a cup of saké in a toast.
“To our success?” he said.