InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ The Daimyo's Lover ❯ Daimyo's Lover 03 ( Chapter 3 )

Daimyo's Lover 03

 

oOo

 

Inutaisho's face was unreadable as he as he listened to his son's report. The lord Daimyo felt a sense of grief and regret for what had happened to the young clanlord and his people, realizing that Barou had been completely out of control. When he'd first met the young youkai several years before, he'd tasted that there was immense pain inside the boy and equally immense strength.

 

For the most part he'd been well pleased with his decision to put Barou in his father's place. Destroying the wretched Himishima had been a pleasure in more ways than one. He only regretted that he'd been unable to do it personally, instead sending Izitaki into the night to murder the clanlord while he slept. Such was the fate of any ruler, even the good jobs got handed over to someone else and he got stuck with sorting out the bloody messes.

 

Like this one. He was particularly proud of Sesshomaru at the moment, pleased his son had displayed the kind of self-restraint and wisdom to not simply slay Barou when he found him. That would have been a waste, Inutaisho decided, knowing that his own son agreed with him.

 

Certainly, Jano, Namichi, and Izitaki would not have agreed, he imagined any one of them would have happily slit Barou end to end and watched his entrails spill out on the floor. Not his son, a young man who was developing the kind of calculation and forethought that a daiyoukai needed to possess in order to rule effectively. Barou's ability was unique and Inutaisho had every intention of finding a way to control and develop it.

 

He nodded thanks as his son concluded his report, detailing how he'd left Namichi and Izitaki behind to help Makato put her ruined home back together. More of the servants had escaped than they'd thought and were willing to return to the mistress who'd tried to protect them. That rather pleased Inutaisho, Barou needed a strong mate and he was glad that the young clanlord had chosen an intelligent woman instead of a useless piece of fluff like the noble ladies who patrolled his fortress.

 

That was another situation he needed to sort out. Many of the young nobles had asked for and received permission to take places in his court, but damned if any of them were being useful at the moment. The damn place was turning into a warehouse for oversexed young demons; the corridors were full of the drama and love struck intrigue of highborn youths battling it out for each other's favors.

 

Annoying as hell, but he wasn't quite sure how to deal with the growing problem.

 

Sesshomaru was waiting to be dismissed and finally received permission from his father in the form of a distracted wave. "Tell them to send me Barou, I'll deal with it myself." Sessh nodded and turned to leave, a rustle of silk and steel. Inutaisho turned around just before his son reached the door. "Good work, Sessh."

 

His son bowed formally. "My lord Daimyo."

 

Inutaisho grinned in spite of the graveness of the situation. Sesshomaru had developed an aura of unreachable formality around his father; he supposed it was the young demon's way of dealing with his status. He had come to terms with the fact that he and his son would never truly have a close bond, although he blamed himself for that. Decisions made at the time in wisdom turned to regrets in hindsight. He wanted his son to be strong and that goal had left little room for any paternal affection.

 

Instead, he thought somewhat guiltily, the affection he'd wanted to shower upon Sesshomaru had been directed at his nephew. Naota didn't need to be taught how to be cold and commanding, Naota would never bear the kind of burdens that his cousin would. He had never meant to set them against each other, but Inutaisho was well aware of the tension that had always existed between his boys.

 

For that was how he thought of them, his boys, both of them. He'd call them both sons in his mind, but never aloud. That would only confuse them more.

 

"Ah, Inoki," he murmured, looking out the window. "I wish you were here to see those two and tell me if I did the right thing."

 

You wouldn't listen to me anyway, big brother. You always had to do things your own way.

 

Maybe it wasn't normal to have regular conversations with the ghost of his dead brother, Inutaisho thought, hearing Inoki's voice in his head. He'd started talking to his brother years ago out of sheer loneliness and isolation, a craving for someone who would never bow or fawn over him. Eventually, Inoki started answering back and that amused Inutaisho greatly.

 

He did not believe in ghosts, he knew his brother was dead. Hadn't he lopped off Inoki's head with his own sword? Hadn't he stared right into his brother's dead eyes before they burned his body? Inutaisho was no fool and not in the grip of any delusion. But he was very aware of his own mind and his own capabilities. If he chose to direct his own power to resurrect the ghost of his brother to talk to, that was his business.

 

He was Daimyo, who would dare tell him otherwise?

 

Inutaisho looked over at the fire, letting himself imagine Inoki sitting there and looking at him with that gentle, ironic expression he remembered so well. "What do you think I should do about Barou?" he asked his brother in a conversational tone. Inoki's expression flickered like the fire, fading in and out as Inutaisho's mind willed him into being.

 

You'll do what you have to.

 

"Oh that's helpful as ever," Inu growled lightly. Damn, if he were going to create a ghost to have a conversation with, you'd think he'd create one with useful advice or at least entertaining prophecies.

 

Inoki blinked at him. I can't help it if you aren't creative.

 

Now he was insulting himself, Inutaisho decided with a grin. "Should I execute Barou, should I cut of his head with Tessaiga? I'm interested in the opinion of one who had been there to experience it, Inoki."

 

You won't kill him. You don't want to. You've always been selfish that way.

 

"True," Inutaisho answered. "I am extremely selfish. I put that boy in power, in his father's place. I'm not going to reverse that decision or treat him like a common murderer. Then there is the question of his abilities, I don't want to waste such a resource."

 

And as usual, how Barou or anyone else feels about it means nothing.

 

"You think Barou would prefer death? I knew you'd never be able to live with what you'd done, and it wasn't any more your fault than his actions are his now. Do you wish I'd let you live with your crimes and face the murder of your wife and children?"

 

Inoki turned away, looking deep into the fire with his dark, bottomless eyes. It does not matter what I would have wished, brother. You wish it. You wish it every time you see Naota's face. Let it go, brother. My son is not I; your son is not you.

 

Inutaisho flushed. "I know that," he rasped. "I did what I had to make sure that he would be strong and survive. What else can a father do for his son?"

 

Perhaps you should be resurrecting the shade of our father instead. I'm sure he'd agree with your statements on parenting.

 

"Shut up," Inutaisho muttered. "We're not having this conversation, you're a figment of my imagination."

 

Father would have been proud of you killing me, Inutaisho. He would have enjoyed it more than anything else. When you see him in hell, tell him that for me.

 

"I said shut up!" Inutaisho thundered, blasting the ghost with a wave of pure youki. Inoki disappeared, leaving Inutaisho feeling hideously alone and angry with himself.

 

I did the best I could for them both, he thought grumpily. I'm still doing what I have to. It occurred to him that he understood Barou better than anyone else possibly could, having endured similar and worse abuses in his life. He was not willing to abandon the younger demon now; he was not going to let another victim be taken in darkness.

 

oOo

 

As Sesshomaru walked slowly down the corridor to his rooms, he couldn't take his mind off Barou. Why did he feel such an overwhelming pity for him? He really should be thinking like Jano, that Barou was defective and broken. Something that couldn't be helped other than by the sharp edge of a blade. Instead, he felt a genuine sense of remorse as his father was almost certain to order the Barou's execution.

 

As violently as most dog demons lived, it was unthinkable to simply slaughter your own. Bloodline meant everything, even to someone like Barou whose father and sister had conspired against the Daimyo. He still had cousins and other relatives that should have been close, why would he strike out so viciously against his own people?

 

It was understandable if not all of his relations were comfortable with him, there were often intricate family tensions at work. Those who had been closest to the Barou's father would have been likely to see him as a threat. The members of the family who hadn't been preferred by Himishima would see his son's ascendance as an opportunity.

 

That should have all been resolved years ago, when the Daimyo first placed Barou in the position. Why after all this time would he just snap? Maybe there was something wrong with the young man; maybe he truly wasn't fit for his responsibilities.

 

In that case, the Daimyo would have to see to his territory, find a steward or an administrator so that the people living under Barou's protection wouldn't suffer or be victimized. Other clans would sense the opportunity to lay claim to that area, might even start fighting among themselves for the right to take over.

 

That would be one big headache for his father. The very last thing the Daimyo needed right now was to have to play referee to a pack of ill-tempered dog demons who wanted to prove their status against each other. Fathers would push sons into conflict, arguing over Barou's empty chair until blood ran in rivers across the territory.

 

Inutaisho wouldn't tolerate it, that much Sesshomaru knew and hoped he wouldn't be the one sent in to keep the peace. He never wanted to go back there again and didn't envy Izitaki and Namichi their chore of sorting out the mess. No one knew how to finesse a touchy situation better than Izitaki unless it was Ari, and Namichi could be counted on to follow his orders.

 

He'd thought about leaving Jano too, but his volatile friend probably would have only made things worse. Jano had not yet learned to control his temper or his tongue, but Sesshomaru never had questioned his loyalty.

 

He was thinking of a quick bath before supper, knowing that his father would probably command his presence by late evening, after he'd finished his interrogation of Barou. Sesshomaru yawned, covering his face with his hand and thought he'd probably better get some sleep while he could. The past few days had been long and tension was creeping up his back and neck.

 

His path took him down a passage to a small practice hall that he liked to use for sparring and meditation. It should be unused at this time of day, he didn't feel like talking to any of the guard or the young nobles that tried to catch his favor.

 

Like he had any use for any of them, he thought wryly, realizing that he'd inherited that attitude from his father.

 

He was too damn busy to play court to a swarm of over bred and useless lapdogs. Most of them were only in the fortress in the first place because Inutaisho gave in to their parents' requests. They were the sons and daughters of clanlords, court councilors and advisors, most of them too spoiled to even realize there was a hell of a lot more going on in the Daimyo's residence than just intrigue and political games.

 

When he reached the practice hall, he stopped at the doorway, realizing that it was not empty. Not wanting to disrupt another's practice, Sesshomaru was quiet as he entered and stood against the wall to observe. The lone occupant was only his cousin.

 

Sesshomaru watched as Naota's body spun in a graceful series of feints and kicks, a complex and beautiful training kata of his own design. He was stripped to the waist, wearing only a loose pair of practice trousers as he danced and dodged gracefully. His long braid of hair whipped around him, splitting the air as Naota moved in an ever-expanding repertoire of technique. Just as he was completing the kata, Naota glanced up and saw his watching cousin.

 

He stopped suddenly, breaking form, and slowly bent in a bow of invitation, his dark eyes glittering with challenge as he stared at Sesshomaru.

 

Sesshomaru grinned and immediately started to peel off his armor and outer clothing until he was also bare-chested and barefoot, respectfully entering Naota's practice space to spar. The cousins danced around each other, too well accustomed to each other's fighting styles and prowess.

 

He was always amazed at Naota's speed, for someone who didn't look anything like a real youkai he had a demon's speed and a deadly sense of balance. His accuracy with strikes and punches was also well respected also, but Sesshomaru was too familiar with his cousin's style to fall for any of his obvious traps.

 

Now and then, one or the other would manage to land a blow, but for the most part they enjoyed besting each other with their skills rather than strength. It was by tacit agreement that Sesshomaru never used any youki of his own during these training matches and also never tried to press the advantage that sharp claws would give in a serious battle.

 

Naota acknowledged his cousin's restraint by forgoing any of the dirty little tricks that only an adept in such forms of unarmed combat might be tempted to use. There were moves that even Sesshomaru hadn't seen, a lot of his technique was self-taught, and having built off the basic fundamentals he'd been taught years ago by the old human, Tsing Pao. Naota still honored his old sensei's memory every year by lighting a bit of the sweet incense the old man had favored.

 

He also honored the old man by trying to whip the crap out of Sesshomaru whenever his cousin deigned to enter his practice space. On a base physical level, it was usually a pretty even match. Naota's skill countered Sesshomaru's greater strength and neither of them truly wished to hurt the other, at least not without a much better reason.

 

Still, Naota couldn't quite push aside all his feelings, watching his cousin's impassive and unconcerned face as he dodged lightning blows and inhuman responses. Sometimes his warped sense of humor just got the better of him and he launched into a sudden back flip that took him all the way across the room to land neatly in a crouch.

 

"Finished so soon, cousin?" Sesshomaru drawled.

 

It wasn't like Naota to back off, not at all. He could usually count on their matches going until one of them tired or conceded for reasons other than combat itself. Sometimes he had duties to attend to and so did Naota. But now his eyes narrowed suspiciously as his cousin walked slowly toward him, graceful and deliberate. Stopping only a few feet away, Naota bowed respectfully and looked over Sesshomaru's shoulder.

 

"My lord Daimyo, did you enjoy the match?"

 

He shouldn't have fallen for it, he told himself that even as he allowed his attention to be distracted for the barest second. A bare second was just long enough for Naota, who launched himself without hesitation, crashing into his cousin like a graceless hanyou and slamming them both down to the floor.

 

Sesshomaru didn't react, just laid there and glared at the giggling idiot. "Naota, you are such a child."

 

The hanyou laughed harder and didn't stop even when Sesshomaru shoved him roughly to the side, sitting up on his elbows and trying very hard to look dignified. "You always fall for that, even when you don't even look," Naota snickered. "You damn well knew he wasn't there, what took you off your guard?"

 

"Habit," Sesshomaru muttered, not wanting to smile but finding it harder and harder to keep his face neutral. Naota howled at that, his laugh was nothing less than infectious and even a stern young youkai lord was not immune.

 

For some reason, it didn't make him angry. He knew he was more at ease with Naota than even Jano or Namichi. Maybe it was just that his cousin had no expectations of any kind of him other than to reflexively flinch at his father's presence.

 

Sesshomaru pulled himself off the floor, typically not offering a sportsmanlike hand to his cousin. Naota didn't care, springing to his feet with the sense of boundless energy that had always been his. The hanyou went to a cabinet and pulled out two towels, tossing one to his only slightly less disheveled cousin.

 

"I heard you brought in Barou."

 

He nodded, looking away from Naota as he wiped the sweat of his face. He really did need a bath now. He had a disdain for slovenly behavior and habits, being a fastidious demon, and he detested those who didn't share his ideas of cleanliness. "Yes, we brought in Barou."

 

"Is it true he killed off most of his own clan?" Naota asked quietly. He had never mentioned to anyone, not even Inutaisho, how Barou had saved him from Chinatsu's poison. Without his help, he knew he never would have lived long enough to be rescued by his uncle. He hated the idea of that gentle natured young man becoming a monster.

 

"What will the Daimyo do to him?"

 

Sesshomaru didn't answer until he had finished dressing, slipping into his armor with the ease of much practice. "I do not know."

 

oOo

 

Inutaisho sighed, looking over the demon in front of him. Barou didn't react, didn't acknowledge his presence or greet him politely. The guards had brought him in; the Daimyo could smell their contempt and hatred. Rumors moved quickly and he was quite sure that most of the fortress was well aware what the young clanlord had done, both the crime and the likely sentence.

 

Most were probably even hoping for a public execution, he thought wryly. He would be sorry to disappoint them; he had no intention of letting Barou off that easy.

 

Still, he thought, circling around the young man deliberately, it wasn't as if Barou cared about dying. He could tell that much, watching for reactions and finding none. No fear radiating from the young man, no hint of desperation or excuse. If Barou had walked in here, pleading for his life, trying in any way to justify what he had done, Inutaisho very well might have carried out that sentence immediately.

 

"Well, Barou," he said softly, standing just behind the clanlord. "Have you got anything you'd like to say?"

 

No response. Inutaisho scowled, this was not the right way to begin this interview. He needed to crack the shell; Sesshomaru had reported that Barou hadn't spoken since they'd left his territory. He hadn't said a word to his wife, reacted to anything. Not the sight of the bodies littering his home, not the fear in his wife's eyes, or the fury and disgust from Sesshomaru's companions. Nothing at all. He had done what he was told, moved jerkily to commands, but that was it.

 

The Daimyo reached out and turned Barou's face towards him, staring down at the young man intently. If nothing else, that should have gotten a reaction. The calm gray eyes stared back at him, only the slight rise and fall of Barou's chest indicated that he was alive.

 

Those eyes were blank, unreadable, as closed to Inutaisho as the cold walls of stone that surrounded them. He knew he could hurt the boy, he could take that hand that gently touched the young lord's chin and strike him, open his skin to the bone with his claws, watch the life drain slowly away, stain his carpet and let Barou die. He could do that and more, but he didn't. It wouldn't serve him, it wouldn't serve his purposes and whether Barou liked it or not, he was going to talk.

 

"Fucking catatonic," he muttered, dropping Barou's chin and moving away. Inutaisho put his hands behind his back, pacing in a wide circle again, but it wasn't meant to intimidate. He just thought better when he was on his feet. In this state, Barou wouldn't need his Daimyo to execute him. He'd simply waste away, even if he had people force food and drink down the young man's throat, even if he didn't so much as disturb a hair on his head.

 

Barou was trying to die right now. His mind had locked itself away from his body, operating only on instinct, somehow still recognizing commands. Even that would fade over time, as slowly the body atrophied and the mind went farther into darkness. Isolation, loneliness, despair, those were the blades that Barou offered himself up to. He had passed judgment on himself and was now executing his sentence of death.

 

Well, not anymore, Inutaisho grinned, a feral dark smile on his face. Nobody gets to kill themselves without express permission from me, he thought. When it came down to it, he was the most controlling bastard he'd ever met. Barou might have horrors in his past, who didn't? He still didn't get to hide from them.

 

Not anymore than he himself could run away from what he'd done. He glanced over his shoulder at the youkai standing so placidly in front of him. "Barou," he said in a gentle tone. "You might want to sit down, this could take a bit."

 

No reaction. Well, he didn't expect it. Inutaisho went to him and put both hands on the young lord's shoulders. He looked right into those lifeless eyes, gray like a stormy sea. Then he pushed.

 

Not with his hands, with his mind.

 

Inutaisho felt himself moving through a dark sludge, he hadn't moved from where he stood, hands planted firmly on Barou's shoulders. But inside the young man's mind, penetrating like an unwelcome lover, he pressed hard, shoving his consciousness right up against Barou's abused psyche.

 

He'd rarely used this ability of his, hating the idea of forcing anyone to accept him inside their head. It was nothing less than rape; it was violation in the extreme. While he despised the necessity of what he did to Barou, he could feel the younger demon start to react. In fear, in pain, emotions weren't going to be locked away much longer, not with a demon lord invading his very soul with the purpose of absolute domination.

 

The young man's body shook under Inutaisho's hard hands, he would have fallen and curled into a fetal position by now except for the iron will of the youkai holding him.

 

"Stop it," Barou whispered, his mental voice faint with agony.

 

"Make me," Inutaisho answered, gently and almost tenderly, as he didn't relent in the slightest. Barou's mind was quivering with painful awareness and Inutaisho saw hints and flashes of what had happened.

 

Good, this was what he needed to know and he pressed even harder, wary of breaking the other youkai, realizing everything was pointless if he didn't continue. He watched for a few minutes, his stomach twisting with nausea. Then he abruptly cut off Barou's memories and pulled the boy's consciousness into a form he could communicate with.

 

Barou suddenly found himself sitting in a bare room, plain wooden floor, unadorned pale walls. He was sitting on his knees; his hands calm in front of him and folded like a lady's mending. When he looked up he saw his Daimyo sitting across from him. His lord's face was relaxed and pleasant, leaning back and lounging on his elbows as if he didn't have a care in the world.

 

"Where am I?" he asked in a small voice.

 

"Inside your own head, where the hell else would you be?" Inutaisho returned pleasantly.

 

Barou looked around him, a confused and lost expression on his face. "Why are you doing this to me?"

 

Inutaisho sat up with a snarl. "It's my goddamn job, you miserable little shit. You've murdered most of your own clan and now I'm looking for a reason not to kill you."

 

The young lord just bowed his head. "Please don't waste your time, my lord. I'm not worth saving. Just let me go."

 

The Daimyo leaned back, his eyes glittering. "Who am I to tell you that I've seen any reason for you to stay? Maybe we'd be better off without you anyway."

 

Barou sat still as Inutaisho got to his feet, glaring down at him. "This is your last chance. I realize that I'd be merciful to just kill you now. I'm not a merciful person by nature. I have to work at it."

 

The younger demon shuddered, his eyes closed tight. "I know, my lord. You're here to punish me."

 

“Don't be so damn dramatic, I gave up torturing people years ago," the Daimyo muttered. He stalked around for a few minutes, contemplating his next action. "Why, Barou?"

 

Wincing, the young lord stared at the floor. "They were plotting against me. I could hear them, I tried to shut it out but I just couldn't take it anymore. I only wanted to show them that I knew what they were planning; I only wanted to make them understand it had to stop. I...never meant to go that far."

 

"Once you had released your youki, you had no way to control it," Inutaisho mused. It was pretty much what he'd thought. The young man was special; he'd known that from the beginning. It wasn't every demon that could hear the thoughts or read the feelings of others, damn good thing too. Most would have gone insane years before Barou's outburst.

 

How many years had he been holding in all his pain and rage? For how many years had he hid his ability, scared of what his family would do? Himishima would not have seen his son as a gift; he wouldn't have seen Barou's uniqueness as a blessing on his household.

 

Maybe the overall cruelty of the father had done more to temper the young man's soul than he realized. Inutaisho was intimately familiar with how such a thing could have been accomplished; it still surprised him that he'd survived his own childhood.

 

He dropped to his knees just behind Barou, his hands going to the young man's shoulders. "Your punishment will be this," he said, whispering into the boy's ear. "You will learn to control this ability, you will never again be at the mercy of your own youki. I will teach you and I warn you now, I am not a gentle teacher. You think you know fear? I will show you how to be afraid. And when I'm done with you, you won't ever have to fear again."

 

Barou looked over his shoulder, his face white. "My lord Daimyo," he mumbled, looking into a pair of implacable golden eyes. "I don't deserve your help."

 

And who was Barou to decide what was deserved? Inutaisho had a faint ironic smile even as he dissolved the illusion around them and sent Barou's tormented mind and body into a dreamless sleep. It was his decision, his alone, and more than anything else, more than dealing with his court or dreaming of his brother, Inutaisho hated to lose.

 

He wasn't about to lose with Barou. No fucking chance.

 

oOo

 

I loved it when she held me. Maybe it was that we had nothing to fear from each other. I spent as much time with Kaiya as I could, wondering sometimes why my father continued to allow it. He was not a kind or sentimental creature, but he did absolutely nothing to discourage me from going the human girl whenever I wanted.

 

As her body swelled rapidly with my father's seed, she began to cling to me out of a helpless desire to mother. And I was a child, I was small, I wanted the affection and she wanted to give it to me, even though I was the monster's own son.

 

Late one afternoon I curled up in her lap and we both dozed by the fire, listening to the wind howling outside. Some kind of cold storm, not even inuyoukai wanted to venture outside when the weather was so disagreeable. I laid my cheek against her breast, listening to her heart beat steadily in her chest, her deep and even breathing as she napped.

 

I looked up at her, fascinated by her pretty face, even if it was always somewhat drawn and exhausted. It is not an easy thing for human women to bear a demon's offspring. Kaiya had more reason than most to find her pregnancy too much to endure. Still she rarely complained of her condition, only that it was not of her choosing to bear this child.

 

I wondered why she hadn't killed herself as she'd sworn to do. There might have been a few different reasons. One was that she feared my father, feared what he'd do in retaliation if she failed. She'd already learned that his favorite way to punish was to cause pain in the things she cared for, myself being one of them.

 

Other than that, he left her alone. I think he realized that her body would never be able to survive his tastes in pleasure and continued forcing on his part would only force her to more extremes. For some reason he wanted this child born and took care that the human mother wouldn't die by her own hand or his brutality before the birth. He might have even realized that by allowing her access to me he gave her something to care about and therefore less likely to commit herself to suicide.

 

I tensed when someone entered the room; my instincts already sharp by this time. I would have tried to protect her from anything even though I was hardly old enough to protect myself. Instinct is such a strong thing in us inuyoukai. We're possessive, we're selfish, and we're demanding and unreasonable. Once we lay a claim to something we hang on for dear life.

 

It's not something we have any choice in; we don't just get up and go "this thing belongs to me." There has to be a bond formed. So I bonded to Kaiya, even if she was really supposed to belong to my father. She was owned by his cruel sense of humor and his need to dominate. Somehow she chose to endure that, for my sake, for the sake of the baby growing inside her.

 

The woman who had entered the room was the servant that had been assigned to care for her, an older woman who was quiet and discreet, and the kind that wouldn't run to the rest of the household with her tongue wagging. Kaiya stirred, but I kept myself still, feigning sleep so I wouldn't be disturbed. Kaiya was a light sleeper though and instantly came awake when Yoriko entered the room and started to tend the fire.

 

"It's cold outside, mistress," Yoriko said as she worked.

 

Kaiya didn't answer immediately, I could feel the hesitation in her body. "So it is."

 

I watched Yoriko from under my eyelashes, silently willing her to leave so I could return to my nap. Instead she came closer and looked at me with an almost fond expression. "That pup certainly seems to have taken to you, mistress."

 

I felt Kaiya's slight smile. "It's mutual," she said softly, her voice in my ears. "I have been become rather attached to this child." There was a long pause while neither of them spoke and then Kaiya asked something I'd never dreamed she would ask.

 

"Can you tell me anything about his mother?"

 

"The lady died some years ago, mistress," Yoriko said in a carefully neutral voice. She had turned back to her duties and was now readying the room for night. "She fell from the tower, most say it was deliberate, but there was truly no way to be sure."

 

"You think she killed herself?" Kaiya asked.

 

"Yes, mistress," Yoriko said. "I believe she wanted to escape from him and death was her only option."

 

It surprised me that Yoriko would say such a thing. Surely speaking of my mother had been forbidden. I shifted slightly in Kaiya's arms and her hands went to stroke my hair. "I suppose it was, I did wonder what happened to her. I had actually suspected that he'd killed her."

 

Yoriko gave a short laugh that had nothing to do with amusement. "She was an unhappy lady, but she adored her son. I think it must have grieved her to leave him. Like you, she had no choice in being mated to his lordship. Her clan was quite small and lived very far to the north. She had no family with her, no friends or servants that she brought to make her home."

 

"Is that unusual?" Kaiya wanted to know. Her hands had stilled in my hair but I wished she'd keep playing with it. She loved to brush and stroke my hair; I of course loved the petting. It made me feel safe, protected and loved. That was what I missed the most about my mother.

 

"Quite unusual," Yoriko said, her voice soft and thoughtful. "The story goes that he invaded their territory and demanded submission from her clan. As part of the agreement that he wouldn't have them all slaughtered, he forced the clanlord to give him the lady to be his bride. She was very lovely, you see, with the child's eyes and hair, and the gentlest disposition you'd ever meet. The lady agreed to the marriage, knowing what he was like, but she wanted to protect her people. She might not have bothered."

 

My ears were burning with listening; I had never heard the story of how she had come to be in his possession. It was something that I'd always wondered about, something that was a dark mystery no one would answer.

 

My mother's people, why had I never even considered them before?

 

"He killed them anyway," Kaiya said, stating the fact.

 

Yoriko sighed, I heard her start to turn down the bed for Kaiya. "Yes, mistress. After her father had declared them married, while the lord was taking her in her own father's house, his soldiers moved in and killed each and every one of her clan. The next morning, he presented their heads to her as a wedding gift. My brother was among the lord's forces at the time and he said that she wailed and wailed when she saw her slaughtered kin. He only laughed before he beat her unconscious to stop the sound of her keening.'

 

Kaiya's hands had tensed on my body; I could feel her anger radiating from her. I didn't understand, I only knew that it should have been impossible for this human female, a demon slayer, to feel sympathy for a long dead tribe of dog demons. She obviously did though, forgetting her own torments for the time in righteous anger at my father's cruel ways.

 

"He is a monster," she whispered.

 

The servant had finished her duties and bowed to Kaiya as she left. "Yes, mistress."

 

I never spoke of what I'd heard and if Kaiya knew or cared that I'd been listening she never told me. It was a few weeks later when my father entered my room and shook me out of a sound sleep.

 

"Wake up, brat," he growled.

 

I woke all right, scared half to death by his huge form bending over my bed. I barely had time to register that it was strange for him to be there, wrong in many ways. He grabbed my arm and hauled me up, dragging me out of my room and into the cold corridor. I had learned by then to just go with him, keep up as best I could if he wouldn't wait. It was better than having your shoulder dislocated or your arm broken. I'd already endured both more than once and would again.

 

It looked like tonight wasn't going to be one of those times, when my father noticed that I wasn't able to keep pace with him, he did the strangest thing. He picked me up and carried me. I smelled the alcohol on him and cringed inwardly, wondering what new form of punishment he'd come up with. He was dangerous when drunken, twisted and corroded by power and envy and hate. I wasn't entirely surprised when he took me right to Kaiya's bedchamber and I hoped it didn't mean what I thought it meant. It did.

 

Kaiya was laying in bed, her newborn son at her breast. I smelled a large amount of blood when my father casually tossed me to the floor. "Brat," he said, pointing to the bed. "You need to meet your little brother."

 

A brother. I was thrilled; I was amazed that he brought me here to see. I went to Kaiya's side, staring at the sweet-faced little pup that was nuzzling her chest. Her face was ghastly white and when she opened her eyes to look at me they were dull and nearly lifeless. I climbed onto the bed to get a better look at the pup, wanting to play with him even though he was far too young.

 

"Inutaisho," Kaiya said, reaching up a tired hand to touch me. "This is your brother. His name is Inoki, which is the name of my own little brother who passed away several years ago. I want you to promise me that you'll look after him when I'm gone."

 

"Gone?" I echoed, tearing my eyes away from the pup, my brother. "What does that mean?"

 

"She's dying," my father muttered.

 

A healer flinched away from his words. "Please my lord, there is nothing else we can do. The mistress has lost too much blood now, please don't fault me!"

 

My father casually smacked the other man, sending him reeling into the wall. "I don't hold you responsible," he rumbled. "She's a weak human with a weak body. Useless creatures, too weak and small to bear a hanyou pup. Sickening."

 

I didn't even look at him. Kaiya's eyes had closed and her fingers fell from my hair as she slipped away. The baby shifted and started to mewl softly so I took him in my arms as I sat beside his mother. No one said anything; my father just turned and walked out of the room. I wasn't sure, but I think he might have brought me to her out of some kind of strange guilt over the human's death.

 

It was definitely out of character, but I was grateful for whatever had stirred him. Inoki yawned and stuffed his fist in his mouth. Making sure no one was looking, I kissed the pup on top of his head and leaned over to Kaiya's still warm body.

 

"I'll take care of him, I'll always protect him," I whispered in the dead woman's ear. "You don't have to worry about Inoki or me anymore. Now that we've got each other, we won't ever be alone."