47 Ronin. John AllynЧитать онлайн книгу.
for alms in the cocky, Edo-like manner that recalled to Lord Asano the boy who had made such a mess of the fire that morning. He might be out of a job now but the chances were he was not worried. Anyone with his brass would require little apprenticeship to take to the streets to cry for handouts or to become a pseudoreligious mendicant and beg in the name of a nobler cause.
The din was overwhelming now, but over it there came another sound, a chant for the dead, and Kataoka directed the bearers to pull over to the side to let a funeral procession pass. Through the window of the palanquin Lord Asano could see that the funeral group consisted of only two men, both servants, and that the rough casket they carried slung from a pole between them was unusually small. Kataoka was standing perplexedly by the side of the palanquin when Lord Asano spoke and startled him.
“Not the best omen to begin the day with, eh, Kataoka?”
Kataoka turned to see that his master was not smiling and felt compelled to do something to alleviate his black mood. The servants with the casket had stopped their chanting now and as they came nearer one of them began to grumble about the load. In desperation, and also in annoyance at the man’s bad manners, Kataoka called out to him.
“Ho! Your load is small enough. What are you complaining for? Can’t you show more reverence for the dead?”
The servant laughed roughly at this and shouted to his companion. “The man wants to know why we don’t show more reverence for our passenger. Shall I show him?”
“Sure,” the other man responded. “Why not?”
By now they were abreast of the palanquin and they stopped to set the casket down in the middle of the alley. The servant who had spoken first came forward and smiled broadly at Kataoka, then winked and flipped open the lid of the box. In it lay the body of a small dog, cut almost in two in an accident. The servant winked at Kataoka again as the jostling crowd pressed close, all trying to see what was causing such interest.
“She was never treated so well in all her life,” the servant yelled at Kataoka, who was momentarily at a loss for words.
“Where are you taking her?” he finally mumbled.
“To the burying grounds, of course. Where do you think? Don’t you know the law says dogs have to be buried just like people? We’re only carrying out the Shogun’s orders.”
He covered the box and moved back to the end of the pole.
“Well, the least you can do is carry them out without complaint,” Kataoka told them both. “You don’t seem to realize how lucky you are that our exalted Shogun was born under the sign of the dog.” He paused for dramatic effect as they lifted the pole to their shoulders. “What do you think you’d be carrying if he’d been born under the sign of the horse?”
The two men laughed loudly, as did all those in the crowd who overheard, and Kataoka was pleased to see that even Lord Asano smiled. He chuckled at his own cleverness, then gave the bearers the order to move out and once again they were plunged into the tumultuous sea of humanity that flooded the street.
Inside the palanquin, Lord Asano was thinking about the dead dog. To him it was typical of the topsy-turvy world of Edo that animals should be treated like humans. He knew he would never understand this place and wished again to be out of it. He sighed, then leaned forward to watch with more interest as the palanquin was carried out of the last alleyway and onto a broad street which paralleled the castle moat.
The waters of the moat were below street level at this point and barely visible. What was most apparent was the high wall of gigantic blocks of granite beyond the water, forming an insurmountable barrier around the unseen castle. Now the bearers turned and moved alongside the moat, jogging up a little hill toward an entrance gate which guarded a narrow high-flung bridge over the still waters below.
There were guards at the gate who came to attention as the palanquin approached. They were armed with lances and halberds which were held at the ready while Kataoka identified the party and stated the reasons for the visit. Then, waved on with a shout, they crossed the bridge into the grounds of the castle itself. On the right as they entered was a long wooden structure which quartered a full company of on-duty guards. The armed men outside it again challenged the palanquin and again Kataoka had to go through the formality of identification.
They proceeded at a measured walk, in accordance with security regulations, and next came to an outer castle where the nobles and their families lived, surrounded by the palaces and courts of lesser ranking officials in a square that constituted a small town in itself. There was little activity in the streets, however, as most of the nobles were inside preparing for the events of the day.
Past this, on higher ground, was the inner castle and official residence of the Shogun himself. It was surrounded by another moat and a thick wall of freestone like the granite one below. A drawbridge was positioned over the moat and Lord Asano’s party moved even more slowly across it, their pace fixed by the court’s immutable rules.
Inside the wall, wide ramparts of earth supported guardhouses several stories high at each corner of the enclosure. Above the castle itself a white tower rose aloft above all the other buildings, and at sight of this Lord Asano exchanged a quick understanding glance with Kataoka. It was this which reminded them both of home. It was a great square mass of stone and plaster with narrow white-barred windows and tiers of curving roofs zigzagging over one another to a high ridge on each end of which was a bronze fish with an uplifted tail. Although the castle in Ako was not this large or ornate, the tower design was similar and stirred both their memories.
At the entrance to the castle, the palanquin stopped and Lord Asano got out. He stepped directly onto a low wooden porch so there was no need for him to be lifted out by his bearers. His costume was brilliant green, and he made an expression of distaste as he looked down at himself. Outfits like this were one of his biggest problems in life at the capital. Besides a ridiculous hat that flopped over on one side and threatened to fall off if he inclined his head, he was strapped into a broad-shouldered kamishimo jacket that constricted his arm movements. But worst of all were the cumbersome trousers which Kataoka now hastened to adjust for Lord Asano’s entrance into the castle.
The voluminous legs were overlong by several feet and were supposed to stretch out flatly behind the wearer for aesthetic effect. This required great care in walking and Lord Asano, naturally impatient, felt hemmed in and vulnerable. He had a constant urge to kick holes in the legs and strut in his normal manner instead of mincing along like a woman in a tight kimono. Kataoka finished laying out the cloth so that his master was pointed in the right direction, then bowed deeply and withdrew. He would wait in the vicinity of the guard shack with the bearers until the ceremonies were over. He was not, of course, allowed to enter the castle under any circumstances. No one below the rank of daimyo was invited to the annual reception for the Emperor’s envoys.
Lord Asano braced himself and started the walk to the door. Although it was only a short distance, it seemed to him interminable as he carefully lifted each foot, kicked it slightly forward, and took a step down onto the trouser legs themselves. There were only a couple of guards watching him at the moment, but Lord Asano walked as carefully for their benefit as he would have before the Shogun himself. He knew that Kira would goad him unmercifully if he made even one false step, and he was determined to show these Edoites that a samurai from the country could play their game.
As one of the guards held the door open, he entered the waiting room outside the enormous Hall of the Thousand Mats where the official ceremonies would be held. Inside he paused to let his eyes become accustomed to the dimmer light.
The waiting room was spacious and high ceilinged with gilded beams and carved pillars. As he stepped onto the gold-bordered mats, Lord Asano noticed that, even though he was early, there were several lords there ahead of him. All were dressed in court costume similar to his, differing in detail only to denote rank. One, in an outfit identical to his except that it was golden brown, looked pointedly at him and it was in this man’s direction that he made his way.
Lord Daté of Yoshida, a trim athletic-looking fellow in his thirties, was Lord Asano’s counterpart in rank and assignment. Both