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 be grateful to him. You have also been granted the privilege of dying in an honorable manner because of your rank,” he said. Lord Asano remained silent and Tamura regarded his stoical acceptance of the verdict with approval. Then he added the final part of the sentence: “All property held in your name will be confiscated and placed under the protection of the Shogun’s government until further notice.”
In his mind Lord Asano heard the howling of the dogs again and felt the helpless sinking he had known in his dream, but he only stared at the blank white wall in front of him until Lord Tamura bowed and withdrew. After a moment Lord Asano bent forward to continue his letter but he was still not finished when Lord Tamura came back with the censor and his assistants. They waited for him to conclude his message and for the note to dry and be sealed. Then the censor stepped forward and started to help him rise. With dignity and authority Lord Asano shook off his arm and stood unaided. He had already started to follow Lord Tamura out into the garden when there was a commotion in the entry way. Kataoka had arrived and breathlessly asked to be allowed to see his master. Lord Tamura conferred briefly with the censor and the request was granted, although they stood close by, anxious to conclude matters as swiftly as possible. Kataoka hesitated before the others, but could not control his emotions and burst forth in a heartfelt apology for not having been aware of the terrible events in the castle. Lord Asano raised his hand.
“I’m glad to see you, Gengoemon,” he said, calling him by his given name. “Yours is the first friendly face I’ve seen since morning.”
Kataoka felt the tears well into his eyes but Lord Asano pretended not to notice. He handed his follower the note.
“This is my farewell to the others. Please deliver it to . . . to my wife.” He paused for a moment and a faraway look came into his eyes. “Tell everyone . . . tell them . . . Oishi will know what to do.”
In the garden, before Lord Tamura’s entire company of samurai, three mats had been placed on the ground and covered with a white rug. In the early evening it was beginning to grow dark and paper lanterns were lit at each corner of the improvised stage. Lord Asano was led to seat himself in the center of the rug before a small stand on which lay a dirk with a nine-inch blade. Lord Asano picked it up to look at it curiously and saw that it was an heirloom of the Tamura family. He gave Lord Tamura a quick smile of appreciation and then listened without expression as the censor officially read the terms of the offense and the sentence. The dogs were howling in his head again and he felt rather than heard when the reading was finished. He knew what was expected of him and he had confidence in his ability to perform with the dignity required. At least when it came to this, no one would be able to say he did not know his place.
He grasped the dirk in both hands and murmured a quick prayer as he placed it low
