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 prime 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