“The barbarian is welcome to call upon Owari to rebel against the will of the Shogun,” mocked Keiki. “The august Rekko, Prince of Mito, now commands the forces of the Shogunate. Ten thousand warriors surround Owari Yashiki.”
I stooped before them all, and pressed my lips upon the bloodless lips of Azai. “Farewell, my wife! We will meet on that other side!”
“You go, my lord!” she gasped.
“Better that the tojin outcast should suffer than all Owari,” I replied, and I loosened her clutching little fingers. No one should share my fate.
She tottered up to follow me down the room. But Nature was more merciful than Keiki. She swooned into the arms of my weeping mother. The Prince averted his head, unable to mask his emotion. I advanced swiftly past the guests that had lingered, and held out my sheathed dirk to Keiki.
“Lead out, badger! The tojin is ready,” I said.
“Go before, demon!” he commanded, enraged at the shameful name I gave him.
Yuki had disappeared, but the Prince stepped to my side.
“Owari dono will escort to the portico him who was his son,” he said.
We walked out side by side, followed by Keiki and his swordbearer. We went in silence. The Prince could offer me no hope, and it was no time to give way to grief. In the portico we exchanged formal bows of farewell. I passed on out.