47 Ronin Page 16

  “But I’d feel so much safer if . . .”

  “Look, Lord Kira,” Chisaka interrupted again, “I’ve arranged, with Lord Uesugi’s permission, to assign guards to your house who will be instantly available in case of attack. This has meant extra work for me and extra expense for the house of Uesugi. Even though it seems unnecessary we are willing to continue this schedule indefinitely. But to ask for more . . .”

  Kira suddenly understood two things. First, that if he wanted additional protection he would have to bribe Chisaka to furnish it. This he was unable to do from lack of funds now that his income had been reduced because of his retirement. He also saw that Chisaka was continuing to avoid the matter of taking him into the castle of Uesugi, and he felt the need to speak out.

  “There was some discussion at one time about my moving into the castle. . . .”

  “No room,” said Chisaka quickly, “and no necessity. You’re just as safe where you are, believe me. We’re close enough so that if there is trouble you can send for help, and I’ll guarantee you reinforcements—although you’re so capable a swordsman yourself, I don’t see why you’d need them.”

  Kira was far from satisfied, but he saw there was nothing he could do but protest directly to the lord of the house and this he was reluctant to do because of the position occupied by his grandson. So he bade Chisaka goodbye and went home.

  He would have been far more disturbed if he had known that Horibe had received a message from Hara telling him that the rumors about Oishi’s behavior in Kyoto were true and that the time had come to take matters into their own hands. Horibe, in a flurry of excitement, immediately left for Osaka to confer secretly with his new leader. In view of the circumstances they did not think there would be much difficulty in getting the majority of the men behind them.

  It was at the archery school in Osaka later that same month that the decision to launch an attack on Kira was made, but in an unexpected manner.

  Hara had called a night meeting of all the men in the area, explaining that in view of Oishi’s scurrilous behavior he was no longer to be considered their leader. He announced that he was taking over, with the help of Horibe, and they intended to waste no time in planning and executing an attack on Kira’s mansion in Edo. Many declined to accept Hara’s invitation, still believing that their leader was capable, but a sizable number did turn out, and Hara was pleased to see that there were enough to give them a chance.

  In the dark gallery, lit only by a single torch, Hara had taken the floor and was explaining why he felt justified in calling such a meeting on his own, when there was a sudden knock at the door.

  Hara broke off and all the men held their breaths while the guard at the door opened it a crack and looked out. They were prepared to run or to fight, if necessary, but neither of these measures proved necessary. They all saw the guard catch his breath when he recognized the visitors and he closed the door again in a highly flustered manner to hurry over to speak to Hara.

  “It’s Oishi!” he whispered. “Oishi and Kataoka!”

  Hara exchanged a quick glance with Horibe. There was a moment of indecision, then Hara spoke.

  “Let them in.”

  Horibe was about to protest but Hara’s look silenced him. After all, Oishi was still their official leader and they had no alternative but to admit him if he requested it.

  The guard hurried back to the door and opened it. Oishi, in a broad-brimmed peasant hat, entered with quiet dignity. He was followed by Kataoka, who was also dressed in the manner of a man of the fields. Oishi walked through the room, past the bright red-and-yellow archery targets that contrasted so strongly with the somber mood of those present, and finally came to a stop facing them all. He picked up a stray arrow from the floor and stripped the feathers from it as he spoke.

  “I’m sorry to interrupt your gathering,” he said calmly, as though he had walked in on nothing more than a tea party, “but a certain urgent matter has come up which will most likely affect your plans.”

  He looked around at them and some of the men moved uncomfortably, feeling that he might be memorizing their faces so he could take some reprisal against them later. Oishi sensed this and immediately tried to put their minds at rest.

  “First let me say that I blame no one for being here tonight, nor do I bear any ill will toward those who assumed the authority to summon you.”

  Hara and Horibe looked at the floor and said nothing as Oishi continued.

  “I am aware that many of you have lost faith in my ability to lead you because of things you’ve heard about my style of living in Kyoto. You’ve probably learned these things from Hara, who is an eyewitness to the way that I have caroused with women of the lowest sort—and on money that of course belongs to you all.”

  Some of the men were beginning to shift around in embarrassment but Oishi kept on with his patient explanation.

  “You may also have heard that I have been seen in public places in an intoxicated state and have even been caught brawling in a public theater . . . and I must tell you frankly that all these things are true.”

  Oishi ignored the low murmur that followed these words and laid down the arrow to turn directly to Hara.

  “I had hoped, however, that my old friend Hara would have allowed me to explain my actions before jumping to unfounded conclusions and attempting to seize the leadership of our band for himself.”

  Hara made a gesture of protestation but Oishi continued.

  “I appreciate his desire to do something about our master’s death but I submit that it is no stronger than my desire to do the same. I also admire him for starting this school of archery for commoners, because I know from experience what depths we have had to sink to in order to prove to the world that we are what we are not. That was the point to all that I did and I am here to report to you that I have met with a measure of success.”

  He paused and looked at them with an air of satisfaction. “The spies have gone. For the first time since our master’s death I feel it is now possible to go ahead with plans that have a chance of success. To have made a move before now would have been foolhardy, as I said all along.”

  There was a murmur among the men and Oishi turned to Hara.

  “Where is your assistant—the one who calls himself Ko­nishi?”

  Hara hardly knew how to answer and stuttered in his reply.

  “Why, he’s—he’s gone! I haven’t seen him for two days!”

  Oishi nodded. “You’re lucky, Hara, that this meeting wasn’t held two days ago. Isn’t it obvious to you that your assistant was one of Fujii’s men?”

  Hara growled and was about to argue the point but Oishi went on without giving him a chance.

  “Kataoka saw him here when he delivered my messages that you refused to receive. He recognized him as the man who was with you that night in Kyoto when you lost your faith in your leader. . . . But let me ask you a question. How could you have found me that night unless the man who led you was in league with the spies? Did you ever stop to think about that?”

  Hara’s mouth fell open. There was no answer.

  “Yes, the spies are gone,” Oishi went on, “and I credit my acting ability for that accomplishment. I was so accomplished an actor I even fooled many of you, although you should have remembered that I took the same vows as you and have never stopped respecting them. Regardless of what has happened, however, I think we still have the same desire to avenge our master’s death. We made promises to one another which I for one intend to keep. I hope you all feel the same.”

  There was a pause for a moment and then a general murmur of agreement swept through the room.

  “Good,” said Oishi, “because the time has finally come when we may speak of action not in terms of next year or next month, but of now! I received a message today from the acting head of the Edo group,” and here he looked pointedly at the embarrassed Horibe who was far from his assigned post, “which tells us that as far as our petition is concerned, all is lost. Dai
gaku Asano has been placed in the custody of Asano-Akinokami in his province. He has been condemned to permanent exile for his brother’s crime and the family name is to be excised from the official book of heraldry. All hopes for the recovery of the castle at Ako are dashed once and for all.”

  The men around him sat wide-eyed as this terrible news sank into their minds. Then they began to mutter and the sound grew in subdued excitement.

  “Revenge!” was the cry. “Now we can take our revenge at last,” they said, and Hara walked falteringly to Oishi to bow before him.

  “Is it true?” he asked. “Can we at last avenge Lord Asano’s death as we should?”

  Oishi nodded, his eyes flashing in the torch light.

  “Once again,” Hara said penitently, “I ask you to forgive me.”

  Oishi smiled and took his hand. Now Horibe came forward with apologies and Oishi included him in his smile of forgiveness. He beckoned to Kataoka and as the monkey-faced little man approached, Hara seized him in a bear hug of affection that brought an exaggerated gasp from his victim and a tension-breaking laugh from the crowd. Now they were all together again and nothing but death could divide them.

  Chapter Sixteen

  There was A finality in the message from Edo about Daigaku’s banishment that brought both relief and despair to the house at Yamashina. It was obviously a bitter blow for Shindo and Koyama, who had pinned their hopes on winning out without a struggle. When Kataoka heard the news, his monkey face set in an expression of determination and the glint of battle came into his eyes. Chikara’s first feeling was of having stepped off into space, but he kept one hand on his sword and pretended his feet were still on the ground.

  After the first bitter moment, Oishi felt strangely at peace. For the first time since his master’s death, the path of action was now clearly revealed. There would be no more arguments with his men about postponing what must be done. There would be no more playing the fool as he had so despised. There would be no more hiding his intentions, which were now to be fulfilled. They would kill the man responsible for Lord Asano’s death, regardless of the consequences. The time for waiting was over.

  At first there was fear that the news would bring back the spy force and Oishi was obliged to move cautiously, but after a few days went by and Fujii and his men did not appear, he sent out word for his men to assemble. It seemed evident now that Kira and his allies had taken the confiscation of the castle at Ako as final and had never considered that Daigaku had a chance with his appeal. The fact that Oishi had waited for the decision on the appeal now gave him an advantage he would never have had otherwise—that of surprise.

  The men came to Yamashina in small groups in answer to Oishi’s summons and within four days Horibe and the first small contingent of troops went up to Edo. The plan was for the rest to follow a few at a time so as not to create undue suspicion. Once in Edo, they were to use assumed names and stay apart until the last man, Oishi, arrived.

  With Onodera, his old chief of staff, Oishi began to work out a schedule of departure. On paper their number had grown to about one hundred twenty but it soon became apparent that this was a meaningless figure. More men than anticipated belonged to what Yoshida had called the “third group”—those who were with Oishi in his plan to get the castle restored, but who were suddenly unavailable when it came to embarking on the road to vengeance. For this reason he decided to send Kataoka among all the men to return their pledges and tell them that they were free to drop out. He knew some of them felt that they would be doing their aged parents or small children a disservice by abandoning them now and he wanted them to know there would be no prejudice against them if they decided not to go on. In the case of some of the followers, he took it on himself to reassure them personally.

  One such that he visited was Emonshichi Yato, who was only seventeen, but who had already risked his life to tell Oishi about the meeting Hara had called in Osaka. The boy lived with his aged parents in Kyoto and Oishi went to call when he learned that Yato had reaffirmed his pledge. Since Chikara, who was also seventeen, was being allowed to go, he could not deny this boy on the grounds of age, but he wanted some assurance from his family that they approved.

  It was plain from the crude hut they lived in that they were having a hard time of it, but they insisted that Yato be allowed to go. They told Oishi the boy would never live it down if he were refused permission to join the band and they would feel that they had let down their masters, meaning Lord Asano and Oishi himself.

  Against this Oishi had no argument but more than ever he realized the dreadful responsibility he had taken on himself. It was up to him to see that the boy did not die in vain, as with all the others. He knew they would follow him wherever he would lead and in life or in death he would be haunted by their recriminations if he failed. As he was leaving the shack on the outskirts of the city, he was surprised to see one of the servants from the Ako castle bringing in a small supply of food to the old couple. The man behaved strangely, pretending not to recognize his old leader as he entered the shack, and Oishi was puzzled until a flash of insight told him what was happening. The servant was now actually supporting his former masters and did not want this to be known for fear of embarrassing them. Oishi shook his head in wonder, then moved away as a quiet sobbing came from the hut and a comforting voice responded, “It won’t be so bad if you think of it as the time before we had a child.”

  Oishi also intended to visit Shindo and Koyama but he was thwarted in this by their sudden disappearance. It was much later when he finally received an apologetic note from Shindo saying that after due consideration he and Koyama had decided they were not cut out to be fighters and would only be a nuisance in battle. They had concluded that “of thirty-six devices it is best to take flight” and hoped he would forgive them. Oishi was not particularly surprised at their action and was glad they had been weeded out before it was too late. He commended their honesty in admitting their shortcomings, but he hoped too many others would not follow the same path.

  The report from Kataoka that night was not encouraging. About half the men they had counted on had reneged, leaving less than sixty. Kataoka, too, had found much misery, including cases of children and old people being forced to work, and everywhere a profound sadness at the thought of the coming farewells. At any rate, they were sure of the men that were left—although that situation could change, too, when they assembled in Edo and their objective was clearly in view.

  Seeing that Oishi was depressed by these developments Kataoka attempted to add a joking note by telling of one man who could not go because his wife would not let him—“She keeps him too well under her hips!”—but Oishi had already left the room.

  He had not seen Okaru for several days because of the rush of activities that began with the message from Edo, but now when he wearily pushed open the door to his room he found her waiting for him. He was grateful for her presence and moved to lie down beside her. He was about to say something in apology for having neglected her, when she threw back the covers and flung her naked body onto him with a sob.

  “Don’t go,” she pleaded. “Don’t go to Edo with the rest of them—it’s suicide!”

  Surprised by her outburst, he took her arms from around his neck and held her hands together in front of him.

  “You know better than that,” he told her. “You, a trained geisha, so shamelessly displaying your feelings? What will your customer think?”

  “I don’t care,” she wailed. “You’re going up to Edo to die and I won’t let you!”

  “I think you must be a spy,” he told her as he gently lay her down. “You know all my plans and you’re trying to change them to benefit my enemy.”

  “I’m trying to change them to benefit myself,” she sobbed as she turned away. “Think of my life. Think of saving it rather than of taking someone else’s.”

  “Oh,” he said as before. “Now you’re threatening suicide. Is it fair to put me in a position like that? Besides, I
know you would never do it.”

  “How do you know?” she sniffled.

  “Because you’re too strong,” he told her, and rose on his elbow to look down at her. “You’ve fought your battle—you’ve regained your position—you’re not the kind to stay defeated.”

  “But there’s no recovery from some kinds of loss,” she sniffed.

  “You’ve got to give me the same chance you had,” he said. “It’s only fair.”

  “Nothing is fair,” she answered bitterly. “And your killing one more scoundrel won’t make it so. Have you no concern for your own life—or that of your family?”

  Oishi paused for a moment. “One’s life weighs lightly against duty,” he told her at last.

  “But duty to whom? Your master is dead—there’s no one giving you orders now.”

  “Oh, but there is,” he said in a faraway voice, and she lifted herself to look more closely into his face to try to guess his meaning. He placed his hand behind her head and kissed her as she lay back with a sigh. Then he started to make love to her in the gentle way she had taught him and after a while she responded, and much later they went to sleep.

  It was the first week in October before Oishi was ready to leave. He had to obtain articles of arms and armor in Kyoto which he insisted on personally transporting because of the risk. When these were ready, the last of the men had already gone ahead except for Onodera, Kataoka, Chikara, and three others, including the servant Mimura who had a special mission to perform.

  It was early one cool autumn morning when they assembled in front of the house and loaded the remaining horses with the crates of “silk goods” they were transporting. All the men were disguised as ordinary porters who would walk the long Tokaido with wares consigned to a wealthy daimyo in Edo.

  In the manner of a geisha-house farewell, Okaru and the little maiko, both in their most festive kimono, came to the front of the house to see them off. They laughed as though it was the end of a weekend of pleasure with many more to look forward to. Young Chikara bowed a polite farewell to Okaru who smiled mistily; she would never forget that she owed her life to him. Then he turned to the little girl and bowed to her, too. At this, she could no longer hold back her tears and turned quickly to hide her face in Okaru’s sleeve. Chikara turned away and took his place in the caravan. Oishi raised his arm to give the command to move out, then hesitated.