"Yes, they will, by God." Sir William got up.

"One more piece of necessary information before you go: I cannot promise to stay at this anchorage much longer.

My fleet is unprotected, the sea bottom dangerously shallow, weather promises to worsen, and we're safer at Yokohama."

"How much longer is safe?"

"A day--I don't know, I've no control over weather which this month is irascible, as you're aware."

"Yes, I'm aware. Well, I'll be off.

I require you both at the ten o'clock meeting ashore. Kindly fire a salute at dawn when we break out the colors. Thomas, please land two hundred dragoons to secure the area around the wharf."

"May I ask why two hundred more men?" the General asked quickly. "I've already put a company ashore."

"Perhaps I may wish to take hostages. Good evening." He closed the door quietly.

The two men stared after him. "Does he mean it?"

"I don't know, Thomas. But with the Honorable, impetuous William bloody Aylesbury you never know."

In deep darkness another detachment of heavily armed samurai came out of the main castle gate, ran silently across the lowered drawbridge, then over the bridge that spanned the wide moat heading for the Legation area. Other companies were also converging. More than two thousand samurai were in place, with another thousand ready to move in when ordered.

Sir William was plodding up from the wharf with his guard, an officer and ten Highlanders, through the deserted streets. He was depressed and tired, his mind on tomorrow, trying to conceive a way out of his impasse. Another corner and another. At the end of this street was the open space that led up to the Legation.

"My God, sorr, look there!"

The space was crammed with silent samurai, motionless and watching them. All heavily armed.

Swords, bows, spears, a few muskets. A slight noise and Sir William's party glanced around. The road back was blocked with massed, equally silent warriors.

"Christ," the young officer murmured.

"Yes." Sir William sighed. This could be one solution, but then God help every man jack of them--the fleet would respond instantly.

"Let's go on. Have your men ready to fight if need be, safety catches off."

He led the way forward, not feeling brave, just out of himself somehow, observing himself and the others as if above the street. There was a narrow path between the samurai, an officer at the head. As Sir William came within ten feet, the man bowed politely, equal to equal. Sir William watched himself raise his hat with equal politeness, and walk on. The soldiers followed, rifles in hands, fingers on triggers. All the way up the hill. Same silence, same watching. All the way to the gate. Massed samurai, motionless. But none in their forecourt.

The forecourt and gardens were filled with Highlanders, armed and ready, others on the roof and at the windows. Soldiers opened then locked the gate after him.

Tyrer and all the rest of the staff were waiting in the foyer, some in nightclothes, some part dressed and they crowded around him. "My God, Sir William," Tyrer said for all of them, "we were petrified they'd captured you."

"How long have they been here?"

"Since about midnight, sir," an officer said. "We had sentries at the bottom of the hill. As the enemy arrived, these lads gave us warning and fell back. We'd no way to warn you or signal the fleet. If they wait till dawn we can hold this place until more troops arrive and the fleet opens up."

"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."