"Good," he said quietly. "In that case I suggest we all go to bed, leave a few men on guard, and let the rest turn in."
"Sir?" The officer was perplexed.
"If they wanted to do us they would have done so already without the silent treatment and ballyhoo." Sir William saw them all staring at him and he felt better, no longer depressed. He started up the stairs. "Good night."
"But, sir, don't you think..." The words trailed off.
Sir William sighed wearily. "If you wish to keep the men on duty, please do so--if it will make you happier."
A sergeant hurried into the foyer and called out, "Sorr, they're all leaving! The wee buggers are scarpering."
Glanced out of the landing window, Sir William saw that, sure enough, the samurai were melting into the night.
For the first time he became afraid. He had not expected them to disappear. In moments the path down the hill was clear and the space below empty. But he sensed that they had not gone far, that every doorway and nearby street would be crammed with enemies, all waiting confidently to spring the trap.
Thank God the other Ministers and most of our lads are safe aboard. Thank God, he thought, and walked on up the stairs with a step firm enough to encourage those watching him.
Thursday, 18th September
Thursday, 18th September: The Inn of the Forty-seven Ronin was in a dingy alley not far from Yedo castle, set back from the dirt roadway, and almost hidden behind a high, ill-kempt fence. From the street the inn appeared drab and nondescript. Inside it was lush, expensive, the fence solid.
Well-groomed gardens surrounded the sprawling single-story building and its many, isolated one-room bungalows set on low pilings and reserved for special guests--and privacy. The inn's patrons were well-to-do merchants, but also it was a safe house for certain shishi.
Now, just before dawn, it was peaceful, all patrons, courtesans, mama-san, maids, servants sleeping. Except the shishi.
Quietly they were arming themselves.
Ori sat on the veranda of one of the little houses, his kimono down around his waist. With great difficulty, he was replacing the bandage over the wound on his shoulder. The wound was fiery red now and angry and agonizingly sensitive. His whole arm throbbed and he knew a doctor was urgent. Even so he had told Hiraga it was too dangerous to fetch one or to go to one: "I might be followed. We cannot risk it, too many spies and Yedo is Toranaga sanctuary."
"I agree. Go back to Kanagawa."
"When the mission is over." His finger slipped and brushed the festering sore and a pain stabbed deep to his innards. There's no hurry, a doctor can lance it and remove the poison, he thought, only half believing it. Karma. And karma if it continues to rot. He was so absorbed that he did not hear the ninja slide over the fence and creep up behind him.
His heart twisted with fright as the ninja clapped a hand over his mouth to prevent any outcry. "It is me," Hiraga whispered angrily, then released him. "I could have killed you twenty times."
"Yes." Ori forced a smile and pointed.
Amongst the bushes, was another samurai, the arrow in his bow poised. "But he's on guard, not me."
"Good." Hiraga greeted the guard and, mollified, pulled off his face mask. "Are the others inside and ready, Ori?"
"Yes."
"And your arm?"
"Fine." Ori gasped and his face twisted in pain as Hiraga's hand snaked out and grabbed his shoulder. Tears seeped from his eyes but he remained silent.
"You're a liability. You cannot go with us today--you will go back to Kanagawa." Hiraga stepped on to the veranda and went inside. Greatly dispirited, Ori followed.
Eleven shishi were seated on the fine tatami, armed. Nine were Hiraga's compatriots from Choshu. Two newcomers were from the Mori patrol that had let them pass yesterday, later to desert and beg permission to join them.
Hiraga sat, tiredly. "I could not get within two hundred paces of the temple or the Legation, so we cannot fire it and kill Lord Yoshi and the others when they arrive. Impossible.
We must ambush him elsewhere."
"Excuse me, Hiraga-san, but are you certain it was Lord Yoshi?" one of the Mori men asked.
"Yes I'm sure."
"I still cannot believe he would risk coming out of the castle with a few guards just to meet some stinking gai-jin, even disguised. He is too clever, surely he would know he is the supreme target for shishi, except the Shogun, bigger even than the traitor Anjo."
"He is not clever, I recognized him, I was close to him once in Kyoto," Hiraga said, secretly not trusting either of the Mori samurai. "Whatever his reason, he could risk the Legation once without guards, not twice.
Surely that is why the area is awash with Bakufu samurai. But tomorrow he will be outside the castle again. It is an opportunity we cannot miss. Could we mount an ambush somewhere?
Anyone?"
"Depends on the number of samurai with the cortege," a Mori samurai said. "If a meeting is held as the gai-jin want."
"If? Would Lord Yoshi try a stratagem?"
"I would, if I were him. They call him the Fox."
"What would you do?"
The man scratched his chin. "I'd delay, somehow."
Hiraga frowned. "But if he goes to the Legation as yesterday where would he be the most vulnerable?"
Ori said, "Getting out of his palanquin. The gai-jin forecourt."
"We can't get there, even with a suicide rush."
The silence gathered. Then Ori said quietly, "The nearer to the castle gates the safer his captains would feel, therefore the fewer their immediate guards and the less their vigilance, coming out ... or going back in."
Hiraga nodded, satisfied, and smiled at him and motioned to one of his compatriots. "When the house wakes, tell the mama-san to fetch Ori a doctor, secretly and quickly."
Ori said at once, "We agreed it is not safe."
"An asset must be protected. Your idea is perfect."
Ori bowed his thanks. "Better I go to the doctor, neh?"
In first light Phillip Tyrer half ran half walked towards the wharf with two Highlanders, a sergeant and a private in tow. "Good God, Phillip, two guards are more than enough,"
Sir William had said a moment ago. "If the Jappers intend mischief our entire garrison won't be sufficient to protect you.
The message has to be delivered to Ketterer and you're it. 'Bye!"
Like Sir William he had had to pass through the hundreds of silent samurai who had returned just before dawn. No one molested him or even seemed to acknowledge his presence other than a quick flick of their eyes. Ahead now was the sea. His pace quickened.
"Halt, who goes there, or I'll blow yor bloody head off," a voice said from the shadows and he skidded to a stop.
"For Christ's sake," Tyrer said, palpitating with fright. "Who the hell d'you think it is, it's me with an urgent message for the Admiral and General."
"Sorry, sir."
Quickly Tyrer was in a cutter being rowed briskly towards the flagship. He was so glad to be out of the Legation trap he could almost weep and urged the oarsmen on faster, then went up the gangway two rungs at a time.
"Hello, Phillip!" Marlowe was officer of the watch on the main deck. "What the devil's up?"
"Hello, John, where's the Admiral?
I've an urgent dispatch for him from Sir William. The Legation's surrounded by thousands of the bastards."
"Christ!" Anxiously Marlowe led the way down a gangway then aft. "How the hell did you get out?"
"Just walked. They let me through their ranks, didn't say a bloody word, not one of them, just let me through. I don't mind telling you I was scared fartless--they're everywhere, except inside our walls and down by our wharf."
The Marine sentry outside the cabin door saluted smartly. "Morning, sir."
"Urgent dispatch for the Admiral."
At once the voice slashed through the door: "Then for God's sake, Marlowe bring it in!