his eyes and he was plainly unnerved by the sight. A sudden rage took hold of him and the blood rushed to his face as he stamped forward to stand by Kira’s motionless body. With a grimace of distaste, the Shogun ordered two servants to carry his no longer impeccable Master of Cere-monies into an anteroom, then turned to the others.
“What’s happened here?” he demanded to know, but there was no immediate reply. “You, there,” he said to Lord Daté. “Tell me what happened.”
Daté released Lord Asano’s arm and bowed, swallowing hard as he did so. Then he straightened and spoke briefly and formally, as though reporting to a superior on the field of battle.
“Lord Asano evidently took offense at something Lord Kira said. We saw that he was shocked. We saw that he drew his sword and struck Lord Kira. It was as though something beyond him was forcing . . .”
“He drew his sword and struck Kira?” interrupted the Shogun. “Does anyone know what Kira said to him to cause him to behave in such a lawless manner?”
No one answered, least of all Kajikawa, who was peeking through the sliding doors to the inner room and who knew when to keep his mouth shut.
“Very well, then, hold him here,” said Tsunayoshi icily. He turned to Lord Asano. “You have no regard, sir, for the propriety of this court?”
“I’m sorry,” said Lord Asano as he knelt and bowed his head to the floor. “I have no excuse.”
“There are rules for every occasion,” Tsunayoshi went on, “carefully thought out rules which everyone must obey. I make no exceptions in this regard—not even of my own kinsmen. Ignorance of the rules might make some difference, but I’m sure that you, sir, after so many years as a daimyo cannot claim such an exemption.”
“No . . . no,” murmured Lord Asano, feeling sure he must be having a bad dream from which he would soon wake.
Tsunayoshi turned to the others. “The crime is clear enough. So is the penalty. You will please keep this man in custody while I confer with my councilors. In the meantime the ceremony will have to be delayed.”
He made an expression of distaste at the bloodstains on the floor, then turned away and started to go back through the sliding doors to the large hall beyond. One of his retinue of courtiers appeared in the doorway, but stepped back obsequiously to make way for the Shogun.
“It’s terrible,” said the Shogun to the courtier. “All our plans upset because of one irresponsible samurai who never learned how to behave in the castle. It may even mean canceling our dance performance.”
Then they were gone and Lord Asano was left alone with his captors. He continued to kneel and look steadfastly at the floor while the rest of those present watched him in awed silence. His face maintained a stony calm, but inside his stomach was churning so that it was difficult to think straight. He felt close to being sick but took a firmer grip on himself, resolving to show nothing of weakness. His only thought was that he must prove to all that he did know his place.
An hour passed in silence before the sound of marching men was heard from outside. Lord Tamura, the red-faced and bustling daimyo of Ichinoseki, burst in a side entrance with a squad of samurai and then stood indecisively when he saw Lord Asano’s rigid pose. Lord Tamura had been a former high constable, which was presumably why Tsunayoshi had summoned him, but in this assignment he felt at a loss. It was easy to be commanding when dealing with the thieves and pickpockets of Edo, but to arrest a fellow daimyo was something else again. He approached the kneeling man with reluctance and placed his hand on his shoulder.
“By our Shogun’s order,” he said, and Lord Asano obediently got up to follow him out. There was a palanquin waiting outside along with a dozen samurai and more than thirty servants, but none of the faces were familiar and he looked around in vain for Kataoka. He was about to step into the palanquin when he was stopped by a word from Tamura who, in some embarrassment, handed him a cheap servant’s dress and asked him to put it on over his court robes. Lord Asano was astounded by this effrontery until he realized that it was for his own benefit. In this garb he would not be recognized as he rode through the streets of Edo and would be spared public humiliation. With an expression of distaste he put it on and got in the palanquin, after which Lord Tamura had a large net thrown over it and the whole rig tied around with rope so there could be no chance of his prisoner escaping and bringing disgrace on his keeper. Then the order was given to move out and the procession set off for Lord Tamura’s mansion. As they rounded the corner at the guard shack they passed close by the waiting Kataoka, who knew nothing of what had happened in the castle and had no idea that it was Lord Asano who passed by him as a prisoner.
It was afternoon before Kataoka really began to worry about his master. The ceremonies appeared to be over and the various lords summoned their palanquins and departed, but there was still no sign of Lord Asano. Finally he recognized Lord Daté’s palanquin and hurried forward to intercept him.
Lord Daté was still stunned by the events of the morning and for a moment did not understand Kataoka’s polite question. As to what had happened to Lord Asano he had no clear idea himself except that he had been taken away by Lord Tamura. Then he realized that Kataoka knew nothing of the attack on Kira, and tried to think of some diplomatic way of telling him and in effect breaking the news to all of Lord Asano’s followers and family.
“Your master is at Lord Tamura’s. I suggest you go there immediately.”
“Is something wrong?” asked Kataoka in sudden alarm.
“There was an accident. . . .Lord Kira and your master were involved. . . .”
There was a short silence while Kataoka digested what he had been told. When he understood all the implications he felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach and his mouth grew dry.
“Then there is no need for the palanquin to wait?” he stammered.
Lord Daté shook his head, then paused for a moment to see that Kataoka was capable of taking some positive action before he moved on. After all, it was the least he could do for a fellow daimyo.
With a quick bow of thanks Kataoka moved away. He did not dare to break the prohibition against running within the castle grounds but he reached Lord Asano’s palanquin within the least possible time. Although his brain was whirling he composed a brief message for the bearers to take back to Hara. The men were from Ako and could be trusted, but still they were of lowly rank and did not have to know all the facts. He told their leader only that Lord Asano had decided to visit Lord Tamura and had gone to his mansion by other means. They were to return to their own quarters and give Hara the message that he was to join Kataoka at Tamura’s immediately. Then he walked briskly beside them out of the castle grounds, back over the bridge across the moat and into the city streets. Now he could set his own pace and he ran as though devils were pursuing him in spite of the crush of the crowd. How could such a thing happen, his mind kept screaming, how could such a thing happen to his beloved master? . . .
At Tamura’s mansion, Lord Asano was treated with politeness and even allowed to borrow a simple robe from his captor to replace his ludicrously out-of-place ceremonial trousers and kamishimo. Those present did not attempt to talk to him, being understandably unsure of his status, and he was put in a small, white-walled anteroom and allowed paper and brush to write a note to his wife. With an effort he managed to collect his thoughts and had begun a brief account of what had happened, stressing the inevitability of his showdown with Kira, when he was interrupted by the sounds of the arrival of one of the censors of Edo and two assistants. As official instruments of the Shogun’s Council they had brought its sentence and Lord Asano heard them whisper it to Lord Tamura in the next room. He knew by Lord Tamura’s shocked reaction that the sentence was a harsh one and that could mean only one thing—death! The rest of their whispers meant little to him: “. . . councilors opposed . . .Tsunayoshi adamant . . . his own chief councilor was struck down in similar fashion some years ago . . . an example must be made. . . .”
Lord Tamura then came respectfully into the room and bowed low. “Our merciful Shogun has decreed that your execution should be swift and you should therefore