47 Ronin Read online

  But now Onodera had another problem. Servants from some of the neighboring houses were approaching in curiosity about the commotion and he had to convince them that this was a private affair. In answer to their questions he displayed the placard that Oishi had prepared:

  We, the ronin serving Asano Takumi no Kami, this night will break into the mansion of Kira Kotzuke no Suke to avenge our master. Please be assured that we are neither robbers nor ruffians and no harm will befall the neighboring property.

  This seemed to satisfy them and Onodera was relieved to see that none of them took it on himself to go for help. His relief was short lived, however, as the two men he had sent after the servant boy came back exhausted and empty handed. They could only report that their quarry had last been seen running at top speed in the direction of Uesugi’s castle.

  Inside, the search for Kira went on. Oishi continued his search in the sleeping quarters while Hara’s men swarmed through the kitchen and service areas. Chikara had been ordered to stay close by his father and he did his best in spite of the confusion of the search. He was more excited than he had ever been in his life, but he kept as tight a grip on himself as on his sword handle to keep from doing anything that might appear foolish. He was afraid to move ahead of his father for fear of appearing too presumptuous, and unwilling to hang back for fear of looking like a coward. This led to some awkward jostling for position until Oishi worked out a standard procedure for raiding bedrooms. He indicated that Chikara should yank open the sliding doors at the same time that he would step boldly in with his sword raised to challenge those inside. This worked much more smoothly than when both of them attempted to break into the rooms together.

  Unfortunately they did not find Kira. There were other nobles present as guests, but none of them offered any resis­tance and Oishi bypassed them impatiently. They were down to the last few bedrooms when a sudden shout from Hara interrupted them and Oishi led his group off in the direction of the kitchen, leaving Chikara alone to guard the hallway.

  Hara had opened a door off the kitchen and run smack into the reserve force of Uesugi’s prize archers in their armory. He had barely time to cry out his warning when a flight of arrows was directed at him and he was deeply pierced in the shoulder. The impact sent him spinning backward but with a tremendous force of will he turned back to face his opponents and flung himself at them. By now his men had entered the room behind him and they, too, bore down on the archers who had no time to reload and shoot again under the force of the onslaught. They were forced to draw their swords but in the bloody combat that followed they showed they were not as expert in the use of this weapon, and in a short time every last defender had been cut down.

  Hara was breathing hard and the blood was running down the front of his breastplate but the thought of letting up did not occur to him. He had waited for this battle too long to miss any part of it now. He grasped the protruding arrow and snapped it off close to his body so that it would not interfere with his movements and then charged off into yet another room to see what it would yield. His men, inflamed by his example, followed in an all-engulfing wave.

  Oishi, summoned by Hara’s first cry, arrived in the armory in time to see that Hara had things under control. He had hoped the shout meant Kira had been found, but when he learned that it did not he merely waved at the old warrior without noticing his wound and started back to the sleeping quarters.

  Chikara, meanwhile, left alone in the corridor, fretted impatiently. What if Kira were inside one of the few remaining rooms? Wouldn’t it be a feather in his cap if he found him and either killed or captured him single-handedly. It was said that Kira was an expert swordsman, but with the confidence of youth Chikara felt sure he could win.

  Still, he might have obeyed his father’s orders to wait if he had not heard a door slide open in a distant hallway. He hurried in that direction but arrived too late to see Kira, made bold by the silence, race down the hall and disappear out a rear door. As he stood there listening, however, he heard the unmistakable rattle of a sword being buckled on and he found it impossible to stand and wait to be attacked.

  He sprang to the door the sounds seemed to be coming from and threw it open. He had not been mistaken about the sword. He found himself staring into the startled eyes of a young man his own age who was fully armed and ready to do battle.

  This was Sahyoe, Kira’s grandson and successor, although Chikara did not know him by sight. They stared at each other in mutual surprise for a moment and then Sahyoe drew his sword. They lunged almost simultaneously but both blows were parried and neither was hurt. Cautiously they circled each other in the small sleeping chamber, slashing ineffectively at such close quarters. A sword stroke slashed through the shoji panels of the wall across from the door and Chikara saw that there was another corridor beyond. He now deliberately swept his sword across the whole wall and ripped out the thin partitions like so many match sticks. Now there was more room in which to maneuver and they made the most of it with bold slashing attacks that turned the room into a shambles. Chikara wanted to call for help but he was determined not to admit he could not handle the situation by himself. His opponent was clearly a more experienced swordsman, and, as Chikara began a slow desperate retreat he hoped that his father would come back in time.

  Oishi, on his way back from the kitchen, heard the ring of steel on steel and tried to locate the sounds. They seemed to come from the direction of the garden and he left his group to move in that direction, never dreaming that it was his own son who was engaged in deadly combat. The garden was centrally located and he could see much of what was going on from this vantage point. The sounds that had attracted his attention seemed to come from behind some wooden rain doors directly across from where he was standing.

  As he watched he was surprised to see two figures fall with a splintering crash through the doors and into the garden, one on top of the other. He had barely time to recognize the one on the bottom as Chikara when the other swordsman scrambled to his feet and poised his blade for a final thrust.

  “Chikara!” Oishi cried out in horror and the swordsman’s attention was momentarily diverted. In that split second Chikara rolled to one side, slashing blindly with his own weapon as he did so. He caught the other man a solid hit on one leg and he fell like a cut-down tree. Chikara sprang to his feet and was about to deliver a death blow to the man moaning on the ground when Oishi stopped him.

  “Wait!” he called, as he ran to the boy. “He’s no danger to us any more.”

  He kicked Sahyoe’s sword away from his reach, recognizing the crest of Uesugi on it as he did so. He pointed to it and Chikara nodded. Then Oishi clapped his son on the back in congratulations for his good showing and they hurried back into the house in search of their prime objective.

  Here they rejoined Oishi’s original group and finished going through the sleeping quarters. Unfortunately, they found no one left in the house. Every closet had been examined, but of Kira there was no sign. As they finally left the house by a door at the rear they met Hara and his group who had been equally unsuccessful.

  Oishi and Hara stood indecisively for a moment until Oishi noticed that his old friend was bleeding from the wound in his shoulder. When he looked closer and saw the broken arrow shaft he called for a torchbearer and ordered Hara to submit to treatment. Hara scowled and was momentarily defiant but then his face went pale as Kataoka set about trying to get the arrow out.

  Oishi was close to despair. After all the waiting were their efforts to be for nothing? How could Kira have escaped them when every entrance was guarded? He felt a great depression begin to settle over him as, for the first time, he contemplated the possibility of failure.

  Hara fumed with the same sense of futility and as the arrow was pulled from his shoulder he gave vent to his feelings in a mighty shout of pain and anger.

  “Kira! Are you a rat that must be smoked out of your hole? Come out and fight like a man!”

  There was silence for a
moment and then a muffled cry drew everyone’s attention to a small wood storage hut near the kitchen entrance. Slowly the door swung open and Oishi held his breath in a silent prayer. Then Kira, in his white sleeping robe and holding his long sword, carefully stepped out. Hara’s threat of fire had done the trick and Oishi exhaled in a triumphant sigh.

  After a quick glance around told him where he stood, however, Kira surprisingly sprang into a strong posture of defiance and shouted into their faces.

  “Come on all of you—I’ll take on the whole pack! How many are there? A hundred? I’ll take those odds if they’re the best you cowards have to offer!”

  Whether his challenge came from real courage or was only a trick, it stopped the men of Ako. Even Hara was speechless in the shocked pause that filled the air. Then Oishi took a step forward.

  “Let no one interfere,” he said. “My ‘pack’ won’t kill you, Lord Kira—but I will.”

  With a blood-curdling cry Kira lunged at him. Oishi parried his blow and the fight to the death began. As they circled and slashed at each other Oishi deliberately cut Kira’s robe away from his shoulder and the scar of the wound made by Lord Asano nearly two years ago became clearly visible in the early light of dawn. At the sight of it the men watching shouted in anger. It inflamed them as it did Oishi and he fought on in cold fury. The scar was a symbol of what they were there for and gave every slash an added significance.

  Kira was no easy opponent; he was a good swordsman and made every blow count, but years of soft life in the court eventually began to tell and his breathing became labored. Knowing that he stood alone and that no help could arrive in time to save him, he continued to fight on. If he did not know how to live, he at least meant to show that he knew how to die. His eyes glazed over as his breathing became more painful and suddenly, as he parried yet another hard thrust, he slipped and fell to his knees. His sword stuck in the ground and as he desperately pulled at it he realized his end had come.

  “Asano!” he spat, and then died as Oishi, in cold rage, swung his sword with two hands in a great swinging arc which snipped Kira’s head from his shoulders. A great cheer of relief and triumph broke out from all the men of Ako and Oishi relaxed to smile wearily at those around him.

  “We’ve done it . . . we’ve done it,” he murmured and felt with the others that all their sacrifices had been worthwhile. Triumph was theirs and it could never be taken from them. But to conclude their business properly, Oishi knew there was more to be done and he gave the order for his forces to form.

  Onodera now came forward with an apologetic account about the escaped servant, but if he expected to be reprimanded he was mistaken. Oishi merely nodded gravely and thanked him for keeping the gate against outsiders for as long as he had.

  Kira’s bloody head was wrapped in a sleeve of his robe and tied to the point of Mimura’s spear which he held high in front of him as the group marched out. All were present; none had been killed, although six men were wounded, including Hara, and the pace was kept deliberately slow to accommodate them.

  Some of the men were inclined to relax and joke now that Kira had fallen, but Oishi was thinking of Uesugi’s forces and strictly called them to order.

  “Make fast your helmet strings when you have won victory,” he told them. “We have fought a skirmish, but we may yet have a battle on our hands.”

  The snow was beginning to fall again in the early morning as they began the long march across the city to Sengaku-ji. On this part of the mission they stayed to the back streets and alleys as much as possible, determined that nothing should interfere with the final act of their plan.

  When they reached the little graveyard at Sengaku-ji, the men assembled bareheaded in the falling snow while Kira’s head was washed and offered before Lord Asano’s tomb. Incense was burned and Oishi placed his dirk before the grave, pointed toward the head and asked his lord to satisfy himself. Then he kneeled and bowed his head to the ground. As the others joined him in bowing deeply to the grave and repeating their own vows of loyalty, Oishi was conscious of a strange calm within himself. He took it to mean that Lord Asano’s spirit was satisfied at last and could cease wandering the earth. Now that justice had been done, his spirit could go to join his ancestors.

  They now bowed in final farewell and withdrew into the temple itself. The abbot awakened in fright to find himself surrounded by armed men and when Oishi informed him what they had done, he sent two of the temple priests to put Kira’s head in a box and return it to his house. Oishi made it plain that they were asking no favors in the way of sanctuary; they were only waiting there until the Shogun’s government should act on the matter. He wrote a report of the whole affair including all their names and designated Yoshida to carry it to the censorate. There was now just one more thing to do before they were arrested. He wrote a note to Lord Asano’s widow informing her of their success and asked Yoshida to drop it off on his way to the palace. Now all of his accounts were settled and he was content to be judged.

  Chapter Twenty

  When Lord Sengoku, the inspector general, was notified by Yoshida that vengeance had been taken for Lord Asano, he dressed for a quick inspection of Kira’s mansion and then hurried, white faced, to the Shogun’s palace. Yoshida was allowed to return to Sengaku-ji, where he reported to Oishi that an emergency session of the Shogun’s councilors had been called. He also reported that although Lord Sengoku had naturally been shocked by Kira’s violent death, he had been courteous at all times and even seemed a little in awe of Yoshida himself, as a man who had participated in such a daring undertaking.

  It was late in the day when Yoshida returned but they were to wait even longer for official action to be taken. It was dark before a messenger arrived with the word that they were to be taken to Lord Sengoku’s mansion until final disposition could be made of their case. A short time later the stern-faced Lord Sengoku himself arrived with a company of seven hundred armed warriors, and Oishi and his men were asked to assemble.

  No force was used against them and they were not treated as prisoners in any way as they lined up to march again. They walked proudly out of Sengaku-ji, two by two, with Oishi and Chikara in the lead. The six wounded men were placed in palanquins which were carried by their fellow warriors. In spite of the hour, spectators assembled from nowhere and lined the way in silent respect.

  At Lord Sengoku’s mansion the band was received with open admiration and treated to a lavish supper. It was long after sundown and this was the first food they had eaten all day. After they were assigned to comfortable sleeping quarters, Oishi expressed his gratitude to their “host” for such excellent care and was told warmly by the ramrod-stiff inspector general that it was only what they deserved.

  At the castle of Uesugi, the situation was by no means so tranquil. Summoned before the trembling old Lord, Chisaka was on his knees explaining for the tenth time why he had not sent troops to Kira’s aid, each time becoming more flustered and less sure he had done right.

  “The servant reported at least one hundred enemy troops—that most of the guards had been killed. I was only thinking of protecting your good name. . . .”

  The old Lord of Uesugi grasped his hands together to keep them from shaking so much.

  “But why didn’t you call me? In a matter of such importance, why did you take so much onto yourself?”

  “It was only to save you the nuisance, Your Lordship,” Chisaka replied lamely.

  Lord Uesugi continued to look down at him with shifty eyes. He knew now, too late, that he had given too much authority to this ambitious little man. He cursed himself for his own indolence, but it was too late to change things now. The damage had been done.

  Chisaka hastened to add a few more words in his own behalf.

  “I reasoned, Your Lordship, that if I sent troops they would find Kira already dead and if the servant’s story was to be even half believed, many more of our brave warriors would be sacrificed as well.”

  Lord Uesugi made
no sound but a sigh so Chisaka continued.

  “I think you will also find, my Lord, that there will not be many to mourn the late Lord Kira. He made many enemies during his time in office. . . .”

  Chisaka would have gone on but he was interrupted by the arrival of a servant with a message for Lord Uesugi. Chisaka was disturbed to see that his pale-faced master turned even whiter when he read the note. Then he asked the servant to show the visitor in.

  “A messenger from the Shogun’s council,” he muttered nervously.

  Chisaka rose to his feet as the messenger entered and unrolled an official scroll. A premonition of disaster swept over the little chief councilor, but he shook his head and leaned tensely forward so as not to miss a word.

  “In the matter of the assassination of the Shogun’s late Master of Ceremonies,” the messenger read tonelessly, “the following official decrees have been made in accordance with the laws of the Shogunate.

  “First, Lord Kira’s grandson, Sahyoe, having failed to fight to the death in defense of his kinsman, is ordered to disembowel himself as soon as he is physically able.

  “Second, any of Lord Kira’s retainers who are known to have fled without fighting are to be beheaded if they are of samurai rank, and to be cast adrift as lordless men if they are of lesser rank.

  “Third, the Lord of Uesugi,” and here the messenger paused to swallow hard, “the Lord of Uesugi, because he did not intercede on behalf of his relation by adoption on the occasion in question, is to have all his domains confiscated forevermore.”

  The messenger went on to read the official validations to his document, but no one heard him. Lord Uesugi had collapsed in a dead faint and Chisaka, fallen once more to the floor, had such a ringing in his ears that he knew for sure the end of the world had come.