47 Ronin

by John Allyn

  “You know . . .” he said to Okaru, but he could not go on. His arm came down and the men slowly moved out with their horses. Okaru smiled bravely to the last, but when they were out of sight beyond the gate the smile faded and her pretty red fan fell from her hand. The autumn wind had already begun to blow. She took the little maiko by the hand and led her in to prepare for her return to Gion alone. Okaru’s own chance to go back had been forfeited by her refusal to spy on Oishi, for that was the price Hoshino had been willing to pay.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Mimura left several hours ahead of the others. He had been entrusted with a mission of the utmost importance and his chest swelled as he thought of the responsibility that had been entrusted to him.

  He, too, was dressed as an ordinary porter, but his route did not lie directly in the direction of Edo. Instead he took the road to Kyoto, a dim path to follow in the predawn darkness. He entered the city and made directly for the district where the Emperor held his court. At a certain back gate on a side street he stopped, looked around to see that he was not observed, and knocked lightly.

  No light went on inside, but in a moment he heard someone coming and the gate slowly opened. He heard a flurry of movement from inside and what sounded like a woman’s muffled sob before a small form stepped out alone. It was Lord Asano’s little daughter, dressed as a commoner, but with a bright, eager expression on her aristocratic little face that gave her away as anything but a peasant.

  Without a word to those inside, Mimura took her by the hand and started to walk rapidly away. Oishi had already thanked the foster parents in the letter which had set up this meeting and the clumsy servant had no wish to waste time now when every moment was precious.

  The sun was beginning to break over the rooftops of Yamashina when he arrived back at the junction of the road that led to Edo. His arrival had been timed perfectly. Along the road from Yamashina at that very moment came Oishi and the rest of the group, walking beside their pack horses.

  They could not help expressing their joy at seeing the child and welcomed her in low voices. She ran to Oishi and threw herself in his arms and after a brief, silent embrace he picked her up and put her on the back of one of the horses. He motioned to Mimura to take the bridle of this horse and to drop back behind the main body of men. There was always the danger that they might be recognized and he wanted Lord Asano’s daughter to appear to be traveling separately. Mimura would always be within shouting distance in case of an emergency.

  They were in no hurry. Oishi still believed the roundabout way was best and purposely took his time. At night they often camped by the side of the road rather than risk being seen in an inn where sharp eyes and wagging tongues could do them damage. At a slow walking pace, it took them ten days to reach the Hakone Pass.

  The trip so far was uneventful with not a single spy in evidence. For this reason, and because his future now seemed so clear-cut, Oishi was able to relax and enjoy the scenery he had been too preoccupied to notice before. Now he could appreciate the spectacular sights of the countryside in the fall and majesty of Mt. Fuji as never before.

  There was a barrier at Hakone, the last one before descending to the Kanto Plain, but they had successfully passed all others and Oishi was confident they could convince the gatekeepers that they were on legitimate business.

  Still, he approached it at night, just to be on the safe side. There was a cold wind blowing, which gave them an excuse to turn up the collars of their long cloaks and also guaranteed that the guards would not stay long outside their warm huts.

  It went as Oishi had planned. The guards were in a hurry to get back inside and did not even inspect their goods. It was over quickly and again they were on their way, Oishi in the lead. It seemed as though nothing could stop them now.

  As they started the long descent, however, a lone horseman appeared on the road approaching them. Oishi wrapped his cloak tighter and turned aside as the man passed but then he drew in his breath sharply as he recognized who it was. The tall, thin figure of the man who had been following him for so long was unmistakable. It was the ronin Fujii!

  There was nothing he could do to warn the others and his hand went to his sword beneath his cloak. The man on horseback looked over every man in the group carefully and it seemed impossible that he should not know them. Yet he rode on silently without a sign of recognition. Oishi watched him till he disappeared from view, then motioned to the others to halt. For their own safety it would be best to put on all speed, but his first thought was of the little girl. Until she came safely in view, they would wait.

  As he left Oishi’s group behind and his horse climbed toward the guard station, Fujii’s head was spinning. He had dared not challenge Oishi at first sight because he was outnumbered and would have been cut down in a second. But what would Chisaka give to know that his worst fears had been realized and the men of Ako were on the march? He had only to notify the guards at the barrier and Oishi would be held for the Shogun’s disposal. He would surely be rewarded—perhaps even given a permanent position with Uesugi’s troops.

  That had been his first inclination. But now, as he came closer to the guard shack, he began to have second thoughts. Was anyone paying him for spying now? Did he have any responsibility toward a former employer who had failed to live up to his promises? And what if there were a reward—would it be enough to pay for what he might lose?

  He reached the guard shack and stopped. The men came out into the cold grumbling and asked him the routine questions about his identity and destination. It was easier to leave Edo than to get into it. He was tempted to share his secret with them, just to see the shocked look on their faces, but the word loyalty kept coming to his mind and he kept silent. When he had satisfied them, they went back inside and he turned once to look in the direction from whence he had come, then kicked his horse into a walk. His first loyalty was to his reputation as a samurai, even an ex-samurai, and he knew that his own honor was at stake. What business of his was it if a fellow samurai entered Edo? Especially someone like Oishi, whom he had come to respect, now more than ever?

  As he moved along the path, he saw a ragged fellow approaching with a child on a horse. He could not identify the man because he was walking on the opposite side of his horse, although his ungainly walk was vaguely familiar. The child meant nothing to him. It only crossed his mind that it was a cold night and such young ones should be home in bed. He shivered a little, wrapped his cloak tighter about him, and went on with a curiously peaceful smile.

  At Kamakura, thirty miles from Edo, Oishi and his group stopped. They rested here for three days, still apprehensive about the encounter with Fujii, but when no troops appeared to take them into custody they began to breathe more easily. At the great bronze statue of Buddha, Oishi gave thanks for their safe journey, as did the other members of his party. Now Oishi sent Chikara ahead as a scout and the rest of them moved to Kawasaki, closer still to Edo.

  While they waited impatiently for some word that it was safe to go ahead, they passed the time watching the fish in the stream beside which they had made their camp. Here, for the first time since leaving Yamashina, Oishi felt secure enough to approach the little girl.

  “How did you like your life in the Emperor’s world?” he asked as he sat beside her on a rock by the sparkling water.

  “Oh, it was wonderful, uncle,” she said. “The family was so nice to me—they treated me like their own daughter. I had music lessons and calligraphy right along with their own children. And we had parties, too, and celebrated all the festivals.”

  Oishi nodded. He had hoped it would be like that.

  “You know, don’t you, that life with your mother may be a great deal different? She may be confined to her parents’ home for a long time to come and you will be expected to share her exile.”

  She nodded. “I know.”

  “But you still want to go to your mother, don’t you?”

  “Oh, yes,” she said without hesitation
. “That’s my proper place, as everyone knows.”

  Oishi smiled. Getting her back to her mother had been almost as important in his mind as getting the house restored, and now such an accomplishment was within his grasp.

  They were still sitting together talking about her experiences in Kyoto when Chikara appeared on the bank waving to them, and they hurried to see what he had to say.

  “It’s safe to go ahead,” he reported, and Oishi wasted no time in summoning the others and packing to leave.

  They split up and entered the city separately. Now Oishi accompanied the girl while the rest went to establish headquarters at a central inn. First they would dispose of the goods they were carrying at a “fencing school” which Horibe had recently established. It was an appropriate place to store the arms they had smuggled in from Kyoto.

  Oishi kept his promise to himself not to see Lady Asano again, although it required a tremendous effort on his part not to go with the little girl to her meeting with her mother. He had sent no advance notice of his intentions, but relied on his memory of the layout of her parents’ garden to know how to find the back gate and let her in. The joyous cries he heard over the wall were all the reward he needed for a job well done and he smiled as he heard them.

  Then he reluctantly turned away and went to join his men.

  “I don’t like it,” Hara muttered. He had come to the inn in Nihom­bashi where Oishi was staying with Onodera and Chikara to report on the situation as it existed.

  “There are over sixty of us in Edo now,” he went on, shaking his head, “certainly enough to raise some attention somewhere. How can it be that neither Kira nor the Shogun is aware of our presence?”

  “It does seem strange,” Oishi agreed, “that we seem to be so invisible.”

  “I’m afraid they’re laying a trap for us. As soon as we make a move they’ll be all over us by the hundreds.”

  Oishi nodded. This was what he had been thinking, too.

  “There are only two possibilities,” he told Hara. “Either they actually don’t know we’re here or they’re waiting, as you say, for us to start something. I’m inclined to believe the latter is the case. After all, what laws are we breaking by coming to Edo? None. Therefore no one has any legal grounds for challenging us.”

  “But I don’t think we’re even being watched!” Hara interjected.

  “Possibly not. They don’t need to watch us—they only have to watch Kira. That’s much simpler and requires fewer men.”

  “In that case, shouldn’t we attack quickly before their guard can become too well organized?”

  “That’s a good point,” Oishi was forced to agree, “but it’s even more important that our strike, when it comes, has the advantage of such careful planning that failure will be impossible.”

  Hara mumbled to himself, then nodded.

  “You’re right—you’re right, as always.”

  “The first thing I want to do,” Oishi said, “is to get a look at the situation for myself. Will you meet me in the morning and take me to Kira’s?”

  Hara’s eyes flashed. “Nothing would give me more pleasure—except to see Kira’s head rolling in the dirt.”

  “At dawn then, we’ll meet by the bridge across the Sumida—the one nearest here that crosses into Honjo. We’ll be disguised as servants on our way to work.”

  The next morning Oishi was strangely excited. He felt as though he had come to the end of a long road with everything he wanted waiting at the other end. For the first time he was going to see his master’s enemy!

  He met Hara as scheduled and they crossed into the ward of Honjo, then entered Matsuzaka where Kira’s mansion was. They met few passers-by in the streets at this early hour, but there were a great many dogs and Oishi began to fear that they would be a problem during the attack. A body of armed men might disturb them and set off an alarm of howling that could alert their enemies. He would have to think of something to do about that.

  Now they approached the front of Kira’s gate and slowed to inspect it as they passed. It was well built and too heavy for them to think of battering down. They also noted slits high up where archers could fire down on them and peepholes below where all who entered had to show their faces.

  They leisurely circled the entire estate and found a rear gate that was no less formidable than the one in front. Horibe had of course reported on all these features in detail and had even obtained a floor plan of the house, but Oishi still wanted to see them himself before he drew up final plans for the attack.

  When they arrived back at the front gate, they took up positions at an open market across the road and waited. They were there for much of the morning and began to fear they would be questioned by the proprietor when they heard the gate start to open.

  A squad of archers ran out and formed in ranks. Then an ornate palanquin was quickly carried out, followed by another squad of archers, and the whole procession moved away down the street. Oishi had to look fast, but he was rewarded at last. Inside the palanquin was the unmistakable figure of Kira, recognizable from all the descriptions he had heard. It was only a brief glimpse, but he would never forget that scowling face and blackened teeth. This was the face he swore he would next see before him at the end of a long sword.

  He turned to Hara and realized that he had been holding his breath. He let it out long and slowly.

  “I think that’s all we need to see for now,” he said, and they returned quietly to where the others were waiting.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Oishi’s men were now scattered all over Edo. So far they seemed to have escaped detection by the local authorities, but they paid for their secrecy in terms of not being a single unified force.

  Hara and Horibe acted as deputy commanders and relayed Oishi’s messages to subordinate group leaders who in turn passed the word along to each individual samurai. Since they still had no idea when or where the decisive attack would be made, Oishi’s first order was for each man to become familiar with the area around Kira’s mansion and, if possible, to learn to know Kira by sight. He had to trust that none of them would become too aroused at the sight of the black-toothed scoundrel and make a single-handed attempt on his life. In his message he stressed the fact that Kira’s guards were well trained, and that any rash act against their master would be easily put down. Furthermore, such a move would alert all of Edo to their presence and their chance of eventual success would be doomed.

  So far it was working out as he had planned. The men, alone or in small groups, received their introduction to Kira by casually passing by his gate at times when it was calculated he would be coming or going. Their tours of duty were of varying lengths and no one stayed long. The only exception was a permanent guard stationed over a shop directly across from the mansion. He kept a complete log on all arrivals and departures, and Kira’s palanquin was discreetly followed to learn the pattern of their enemy’s affairs. The question was, how long could they keep this up before Kira’s guards began to recognize them?

  Yoshida recognized another very real danger as well.

  “We’re extremely vulnerable in one way, Oishi-dono,” he said one night at a strategy meeting with Hara, Horibe, and Onodera in Oishi’s room at the inn.

  “What’s that?” Oishi asked in concern.

  “We’re all completely dependent on you for our directions—not that I would have it any other way,” he added hastily as Oishi’s brow furrowed. “But wouldn’t it be more reasonable for you to guard your person more carefully?”

  Oishi shook his head at the prospect of limiting his own movements, but the others agreed with Yoshida.

  “There are ‘accidents’ that could happen to you if Kira willed it,” Hara said.

  “But I can’t travel around with an armed guard,” Oishi snapped. “What good would I be to anyone?”

  “Perhaps the answer is not to travel at all,” Yoshida suggested. “A squad of four or five fighting men could stay here with you at all times.”


  “I think he’s right, Oishi-dono,” Horibe put in. “You’re taller and more easily recognized than the rest of us. As time goes by, you’ll be spotted as a spy, if not actually identified as Lord Asano’s chief retainer.”

  Oishi fretted for a moment and then sighed.

  “I hate to think of shutting myself off—I had so much of that for so long in Yamashina.”

  “I sympathize with you,” Hara said, “but what can you gain by seeing your enemy again?”

  “Nothing, I suppose. . . . I had hoped to be able to see Dai­gaku, but his confinement is well enforced. Still, perhaps it’s just as well. I don’t want him involved in our plans if I can help it.”

  The others nodded. This was the best way.

  “Have all the men had a chance to see Kira by now?” Oishi asked abruptly.

  Hara hesitated and looked at Horibe. He cleared his throat and prepared to speak, his eyes strangely downcast, when they were interrupted by a quiet knock at the door. Horibe opened it a crack, then quickly let in a grinning Kataoka.

  The monkey-faced man bowed courteously to Oishi, nodded to the others and found a place to sit on the floor.

  “You look pleased with yourself,” Oishi observed.

  Kataoka’s grin grew broader.

  “I’ve discovered a new diversion for rich merchants like myself in Edo.”