InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Bandit of the Woods ❯ Storm ( Chapter 4 )

A/N: Ok people, this is the chapter were it all starts to get a little dark. You have been warned.

FF.net

Squeakyinuears: Yeah, Inuyasha in tights was pretty funny. I was laughing the whole time I was writing that chapter and my family kept giving me strange looks.

Leomae108: This isn't based on the Disney version. I just happened to be what I was watching when I got the inspiration.

MM.org

Precious: Nope, for this fic Kagome is more or less defenseless… unless you count Sango as a defense.

Moon_Kitsune: I can honestly say I've never tried such a combination. Of course I also don't drink coffee. But I think I disagree when you say money is worth anything. Like skydiving or bundgee jumping, there isn't enough money in the world to make me do that. Period.

Bandit of the Woods

Chapter 4

Storm

Inuyasha leaned back against the tree trunk as he rested on the limb inside his treetop home. It had been quiet for almost a month now, ever since the archery tournament. They had stolen from the rich and given to the poor. The men in training were doing well, all things considered. Naraku and Kikyo had made a couple more attempts to capture him, all of which failed - most miserably. He had seen Kagome a few more times, and gotten several more kisses for his trouble.

A slow smile crept across his face as he thought of the beautiful maiden. Her raven locks blowing in a soft breeze, her blue diamond eyes sparkling in the sun. He could almost smell her sweet, spiced honey scent. His eyes drifted closed and he saw her, standing in the middle of an open field waiting for him. Her long gown blowing in the same breeze that tossed her beautiful hair about her face.

"Inuyasha!!" a loud male voice snapped him from his vision and caused him to topple to the floor. The irate dog demon glared up at the now amused monk.

"What the fuck do you want?" Inuyasha growled. Miroku smirked knowingly but spoke as if nothing of interest had passed.

"The Bakers came to see me today."

"And this interests me because…?" Inuyasha replied as he took his seat again on the branch.

"They do not have the money to pay their taxes tomorrow."

"So… you gave them what they needed. Still not sure how this affects me. You know I don't have be informed every time you give away hand outs." Inuyasha leaned his head against the tree trunk and closed his eyes again, trying to recapture the lost vision of his love.

"I offered them all I had, but they refused." Inuyasha opened his eyes and quirked an eyebrow at the monk. "It wouldn't be enough, we checked twice. Their deadline for payment is tonight. They have expressed a desire to have their young son extracted." Inuyasha gave a solemn nod.

"You know what to do. I last saw Hojo in the barn." Miroku nodded and left the room. Out on the deck he slipped his foot into the loop of the rope. Placing his weight onto it, he slowly lowered to the ground. Stepping out and onto solid ground he turned towards the large barn. People who passed him gave him nods of respect and muttered things of reverence. Miroku took it all in stride, nodding in response too as many as he could.

The monk entered the barn as if he were walking on holy ground. The air was thick with the smell of stock, hay, and grain. Dust hung in the air as the enclosures' inhabitants kicked up their feet in restlessness. Hojo was working away in a stall towards the end, a soft, happy sort of smile on his face. Miroku had to admire the boy. Despite his lack of wit, the boy took pride in his work and never left a job in less then perfect condition.

"Hojo." The monk called and the boy looked up with a bright smile.

"Master Miroku! What a delightful surprise." Hojo setting aside his work and hurrying over to the monk. He bowed deeply, an act of servitude that Miroku had grown used to over the years. "How may I serve you my Lord?" Hojo asked with unwavering bright smile and joy of being of use.

"The Baker child needs extracting. This one will be dangerous, it must be done before night fall."

"I will be ready, Master Miroku." Hojo bowed again before hurrying off. Miroku shook his head as he left the barn. Hojo always was the best man for jobs such as this. His kind expression was a comfort to the young and his lack of outstanding features allowed him to pass seamlessly through the village, weather to run errands or do silent work for the rebellion.

Hojo hurried around behind the barn. His other chores would have to wait, it was only a few hours until sundown. He found the cart he was looking for in only a few minutes. Inuyasha and his men used a number of different carts for a number of different reasons. This cart was the oldest and most decrepit of the lot. Several spokes were missing from the wheels that creaked on the axles. The wood of the cart was rotting, almost completely in some places. In the back of the cart was a moth eaten tarp covering a stack of crates. Hojo pulled back the tarp to check underneath. There were indeed crates underneath, but they were stacked and tied to that there was a small crawl space between the two lower crates and covered by a single crate above. The space was large enough for a good-sized person to sit, if a bit uncomfortably. Satisfied that everything was in order, Hojo recovered the crates and moved to the front of the cart. He checked to condition of the horse hitch. Hojo nodded in satisfaction.

Hojo hurried back into the barn to get a horse. He stopped in front of a stall containing an old bay mare. She was thinned with age, her ribs and hips sticking out. Hojo smiled brightly at her as he stroked her face lovingly. She was one of his favorite horses. Calm and gentle, good for teaching the children to ride and secret trips into town.

"Come on Angel, time to work." Hojo soothed as he took up the mare's halter and gently lead her out and around the barn. He carefully backed her between the hitch posts and strapped her in. The mare made no complaint other then to swat at a fly that settled on her rump. Once she was in place, Hojo climbed into the bench seat. He picked up a cloak from the seat next to him. It was dark gray and as moth eaten as the tart. The cloak was a couple sizes too large and covered in dirt and manure. Several patches had been sown haphazardly in random places. It was the perfect thing to make anyone blend into the crowd.

"Hojo." A voice called. He looked up to see Inuyasha coming towards him and quickly jumped to the ground, hurrying up to his master.

"Master Inuyasha," He bowed deeply, "What is it you need of me?"

"I didn't want you to forget your sword." Inuyasha answered calmly as he held out a nice broad sword to the young man along with a small wooden crate. "And take this case of wine, incase samples of your wares are needed. You can pass it to Miroku when you're done."

"Thank you Master." Hojo bowed again and accept the weapon and the small crate. He attached the sword to his hip and looked back at Inuyasha. "Is there anything else I can do for you?"

"Just be careful." Inuyasha smiled and clapped the boy on the shoulder. "The Sheriff has been on high alert sense my little stunt at the tournament."

"I will Master Inuyasha." Hojo smiled back. Inuyasha nodded and left. Hojo turned and climbed back into the cart, depositing the wine behind him. He pulled the cloak on around his slim form and pulling the hood low over his eyes.

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Miroku sat outside in the churchyard meditating. The sun was just starting to sink below the trees when a sound reached his ears. It was a low rumbling sound. Opening his eyes the monk looked up. Thick, angry black thunderheads were rolling in at an unreal speed. Lightening flashed across the puffs of pitch cotton as they rolled over the land with all of nature's fury. The monk's eyes narrowed in worry. This did not bode well.

The steady creak, creak, creak signaled Hojo's passing in the rickety cart and Miroku turned his attention to the boy. The heavily cloaked figure merely gave a nod of its heavily hooded head, which the monk returned, as he passed. It was a good disguise, if Miroku didn't know, he would have never guess it was the humble servant boy under that filthy cloak. Miroku turned his eyes back to the sky. There was an earth shacking clap of thunder before the sky opened and rain began to drench the land.

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Hojo gave a respectful nod to the monk as he passed. This was not a time for his usual behavior; that could compromise both himself and Master Miroku. There was a deafening roar of thunder, that even had the ever-calm Angel tossing her head, and heavy raindrops began to fall, quickly soaking into the cotton cloak. He watched carefully as a guard passed him not far from his destination. The guard made a face of disgust at the sight of him, the manure in the fabric beginning to reek with the moisture.

"Filthy wretch!" The guard spat and pinched his nose. "What have you been doing, rolling with that nag of yours?"

"Forgive me sir," Hojo groveled in a harsh voice, "Been a long day. Might ye know a place for one such as myself to find shelter from weather such as this?" The guard ignored him and spurred his horse away at a quickened pace. Hojo smirked in almost an Inuyasha like manner. The rain came down harder, turning into almost blinding sheets of thick gray before him. Lightening flashed, reflecting off the rain and starting the mare. Hojo whispered comforts to her and urged her to continue forward. The house was in view now, a candle light in the window to help guide him.

Hojo pulled up next to the door and slid from the seat of the cart. Rain pelted the cloak that was now soaked and clinging to his body. Hojo gave Angle another pat of reassurance before moving to the door. He raised his hand and rapt the wood slowly three times.

"Who goes?" came the question from the other side.

"The man of the transparent forest." Hojo replied. The door swung inward slowly. Inside stood a man who looked as if he was once very burly but had lost a lot of weigh all at once. A woman, who was weeping silently, stood behind him shaking. The man held the shoulder of a boy no more then ten before him. His hair was dirty blond, or maybe just dirty, and his eyes were a clear blue and fearful. Hojo gave a silent nod of his head and extended his hand to the boy. The child looked to his parents for reassurance, they nodded, and he took the offered hand. Hojo nodded again to the couple as they closed the door and left the two in the rain.

He turned to his young charge and smiled one of his winning smiles. The boy looked back at him with rivers of liquid rolling down his cheeks, though whether they were tears or rain was impossible to tell. Hojo gave the boy's hand a guiding tug and headed for the cart. He quickly checked the road in both directions for any passersby. He could see the Sheriff and his posse far off, but no one else. Still weary Hojo helped the boy into the back of the cart and under the crates and tarp, all while making it look as if he were merely checking his load.

Carefully he climbed into the driver's seat and gave Angle the cue to move on. The elderly mare started forward, her hooves making a slogging sound in the mud. Hojo hunched himself over to give a more elderly cripple impression as they started down the road, heading towards Naraku. The rain was proving to be as much of a help as a hindrance. The water made his hands wrinkled and look old and made the over sized cloak weigh heavy on his slim frame. As the Sheriff approached Hojo moved to the side to allow him passage and show respect, as one should. Hojo gave Naraku a nod, which wasn't returned, before placing all his attention forward.

Naraku paused next to the cart and glared at it. It did not look out of the ordinary in anyway, yet something wasn't right. He tilted his head slightly to the side and frowned. Something was definitely a miss, but he couldn't put his finger on it.

"Lord Sheriff, is something wrong?" One guard asked. Naraku realized he had stopped in the middle of the road and his men with him, all giving him a curious look.

"No…" he replied slowly, "…It's nothing…" He spurred his horse on. Hojo breathed again. The Sheriff and his party moved passed the cart and Hojo encouraged the mare forward again.

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Naraku pushed the old man and his cart from his mind as he turned his attention back to the task at hand. The Bakers had not paid their taxes and needed to be taken in. A cruel smile caressed his lips. He'd heard that the wife was very beautiful, perhaps she could make up the difference, not that that would actually help. If not, he had other plans for them. His eyes slide back to the jail cart being drawn by one of his men. It was a simple cage, often used for holding animals before they were released for a hunt. Very fitting.

They pulled up to the door of the run down shack of a home and swung down from his horse. Several of his men copied him as he approached the door. Naraku brushed rain from his face and clothes in a vain attempt to make himself look more impressive. Finally he raised his fist and slammed it against the door several times in rapid succession.

"Who goes?" asked a shaky male voice from inside.

"The Sheriff of Nottingham. Open this door or suffer the consequences." Naraku shouted back over the din of the storm. The door lock clicked and the door swung slowly inwardly. Before him stood a man and a woman. He brushed past them, making a disgusted noise when his clothes brushed theirs. "Do you have the money?"

"Lord Sheriff," The man began, "it has been a rough year. Crops were bad, my wife was ill, and the slight increase in the taxes…"

"The taxes are what keep wretches like you from being slaughtered in your bed, you ungrateful clod." Naraku snapped back venomously as he backhanded the man into the wall. His wife screamed and hurried to his side. Naraku's men chuckled as the man gently pushed his wife away as he stood.

"I meant no disrespect Lord Sheriff." The man said humbly as he wiped some blood from the corner of his mouth.

"Good." Naraku spat, "Now do you have the money or don't you?"

"I'm sorry, Lord Sheriff, we do not." The man replied, his voice cracking slightly.

"I see…" Naraku drawled, "You know the penalty for not paying." It wasn't a question.

"Yes, Lord Sheriff. A week in the dungeons for every unpaid shilling."

"Good." He eyed the pair coldly, "You know," He stepped closer and took the woman's chin in his hand, "There are… other ways to pay." Her eyes widened and she pulled from him to retreat behind her husband. "No. I see, you would rather go to the dungeons. Perhaps to save your son." He smiled as their eyes widened in horror. "Search the house!"

Naraku's men flooded the small abode. Two grabbed hold of the man and his wife holding them in placed as the others searched their home, totally disregarding their few possessions. The couple winced each time something broke. After several minutes one of the men approached Naraku and gave him a crisp solute.

"Sir, there is no child here." Naraku turned to the man with sharp eyes.

"What do you mean 'there is no child'. There was a child here this morning, I saw him myself!"

"He is not here sir." The man repeated. Naraku glared at the guard then shifted his view to the couple. A tick had started under his eye.

"Where is the child?" Naraku asked slowly, in a low dangerous voice. Neither answered. Naraku growled. "Fine. Kill them." He strode passed the two shocked peasants and back out towards his horse. Naraku listened with dark satisfaction to the sounds of swords being drawn then sheathed in soft human flesh. A smile quirked the edge of his mouth at the thump of bodies against the hard floor.

He looked up at the rain-slogged road, thick with mud. His eyes again fell on the rotting cart. Naraku's mouth turned down and his eyes narrowed. What was it about that cart…? Something about it just didn't sit right with his mind. Suddenly something clicked. One of his men had mentioned passing a similar traveler; only he was heading towards the village not away. With the weather there was a good chance they were the same person, but that would mean they had turned away at the edge of the village… right where the Baker's house stood. Without a word to his men, Naraku leapt onto his horse and took off down the road.

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Hojo looked back when the sound of thundering hooves in mud reached his ears. His eyes widened at the sight of Naraku charging up the road towards him. The Sheriff's eyes were focused on the innocent looking cart with a glare that almost set the wood a blaze. One thought went through Hojo's mind: He knew.

Hojo quickly ran through his options. Angel was an old mare, she could never out distance the young stallion the Sheriff rode, even if she wasn't pulling the cart. His resolve hardened; there was only one choice.

Hojo reached back under the cart and grabbed the boy by the arm with one hand and the case of wine with the other. Angel walked on as if nothing of interest was happening. Hojo half pushed half threw the boy to the ground, where he stumbled and fell to his hands and knees.

"Go to the church and yell Sanctuary!" Hojo ordered. The boy looked from Hojo to the fast approaching sheriff. "GO!" Hojo yelled as he jumped from the cart. The boy scrambled to his feet and took off running as fast as he could through the thick mud of the road. Hojo drew his sword and with a sure swing cut the bonds that held the mare to the cart. He gave her rump a light slap with the sword flat, sending the mare down the road at an accelerated pace.

Hojo gripped the side of the cart and tipped it over. The cart had been built with the old mare in mind, so it was an easy task for the young man. Hojo grabbed the case of wine off the ground and smashed it over the wagon; blood colored liquid ran out deluding with the rain as it fell towards the sodden earth. Hojo reached into his pocket and drew out a small sapphire crystal. It was a small device Shippou had come up with: 'Fox Fire Flash'. The small crystal, when broken, let out a brief but bright flash of blue flames. Hojo looked up as the Sheriff thundered down on him, sword already drawn.

Hojo grimaced and threw the crystal against the cart. There was a huge burst of blue flames that caused Naraku's stallion to rear in surprise. Naraku was thrown to the ground in shock, his horse panicking and taking off into the night. The wine took up the burn as the flash died away, turning the flames from blue to orange. Hojo turned and ran, trying to put some distance between himself and the Sheriff. Naraku swore darkly as he retrieved his sword from the muck.

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Miroku pushed the door to the church open as the sound of a shouting voice reached his ears. He looked out through the driving rain to see Hojo, still a good piece down the road, shoved the young boy from cart and into the muddy road. Miroku frowned. Why would Hojo do that? Squinting against the darkness of the night storm he could make out nothing. Then lightening flashed across the sky and it all became clear. In the distance, approaching fast, was the sheriff. The Monk shifted uneasily; there was nothing he could do.

Hojo yelled something at the boy that got him moving, before the young servant jumped from the cart and cut his horse free. Miroku's brow furrowed. What was Hojo doing? He watched as Hojo turned the cart to block the road and smash something on it. Miroku silently begged Hojo to run, but the boy didn't move. Suddenly a bright flash of blue flames lit up the night. The Sheriff's horse reared, throwing him into the mud. Miroku tried to hide his pleased smile, but failed.

Hojo turned and ran as Naraku picked himself out of the mire. The servant boy had a good head start but he wasn't a match for the well-trained Sheriff. Naraku was on top of Hojo easily, intent on striking him down. Hojo did a rather impressive mid-stride turn and blocked the sword. Apparently all that practice with Inuyasha wasn't a waste.

Naraku growled and swung his foot to catch Hojo's knee. The young boy just couldn't react quickly enough. The Sheriff took out his knee, sending him to the ground, and cuffed him upside the head as he fell. Hojo was out cold before he hit the ground. Miroku bit his bottom lip lightly. Naraku kicked Hojo before turning to chase the young boy that had been in his charge.

Miroku tightened his grip on his staff. The boy was only strides from the church grounds, with Naraku approaching fast, but unless he cried for sanctuary there was nothing the monk could do. The boy turned frightened eyes on the monk as Naraku yelled orders for him to stop. Miroku clinched his teeth and willed the boy to say the single word. The one simple word that would save him from the Sheriff's grasp. The young boy looked at him with pleading eyes, his mouth working without sound.

"Sanctuary!" the boy's voice called through the din. Miroku struck the butt of his staff against the stone steps of the church and a blue shield rose into the air between the boy and the sheriff. Naraku skidded to stop, but the mud made it impossible and he slammed into the barrier, hard. The young boy dove behind Miroku and hide from view.

"Surrender the boy!" Naraku ordered as he, once again, picked himself out of the mud.

"I can't do that." Miroku replied simple.

"I am the Sheriff of Nottingham, right hand to Queen Kikyou, and I order you to surrender that child!"

"I am a man of the cloth." Miroku's clam exterior never faltered, "I answer to a higher power then yourself or the queen. The boy has asked for sanctuary and I must give it."

"He is in conspiracy with Inuyasha!"

"That is not my concern." Miroku replied simply. Naraku roared at him, demanding his compliance, but the monk remained impassive. After several minutes of unproductive cursing and threatening, Naraku turned sharply on his heels, wiped the water and wet hair from his face, and stormed back down the road.

Miroku watched as he yelled at his guards that had finally arrived. Naraku screamed orders, and in his rage made every word clear to the monk. After much yelling and scrambling, the guards had extinguished the fire and picked up the still unconscious Hojo from the rode. They tossed the boy unceremoniously into the back of the jail cart and, with a parting glare for the monk, set off towards Nottingham.

Miroku was left with only the frightened boy, the howling wind, the pounding rain, and a single thought: Inuyasha was not going to be pleased.