InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ The Daimyo's Son ❯ Chapter Two ( Chapter 2 )

CHAPTER TWO

"Excellent, Sesshomaru-sama! I can see you've been practicing." Sessh smiled shyly at the praise, gracefully slipping the slim katana back into its sheath. He bowed respectfully to the old man. "Thank you, sensei. It is only for your patient teaching that I have any skill at all."

The elderly youkai chuckled. "You are far too modest. I have no doubt that you will one day approach your father's skill with a blade. I taught him myself too many years ago to count, but it is easy to see where you come by your natural ability."

Sessh didn't comment on this observation, pretending to be busy setting away the practice tools. Old Hamako was a famous teacher, but very old and frail. He sat wrapped in warm furs against the chill early morning air. Sessh looked out over the walls at the sky, just now turning from gray to a faint pink with the dawn. He thought the old sensei might have chosen a more comfortable hour for his practice, but the old man's choice was always before dawn. "At my age, I greet each new day as a gift from the gods themselves. It would be unthinkably impolite of me to waste even the barest moment of their blessing."

Sesshomaru never complained about the lessons. They were always challenging, always fascinating. He well understood what a privilege it was for Hamako to take him as a student, the frail youkai hadn't done so with any others for many years. It was only out of affection for his former student, Sesshomaru's father, that the master had come out of retirement to train Inutaisho's son. The elderly youkai liked to tell stories as he taught, filling the young lord's ears with tales of magnificent battles, noble warriors, and great victories. It was said that he had come to the Western lands many years ago from across the ocean and in his younger days been regarded as a fierce fighter in the service of Inutaisho's father.

The long wide valley that was home to the seat of his father's territory was misty and chill in the mornings even during the summer months. Bordered by tall mountains on all sides, the few safe passes were known only to a chosen few and always well guarded. The fortress itself had been carved from a mountainous stone formation at the heart of the valley, its many passages and tunnels worked and reworked over centuries by the youki skills of a thousand unknown craftsmen. Even his father didn't know the complete history of their ancestral home, only that it was far older than their family's name and theirs was a very long-lived clan.

Sesshomaru was anxious this morning to leave the practice yard. He had promised to share what he had learned with Jano and Namichi as his cousins would pester him relentlessly after a lesson with Hamako. It always surprised Sessh when he'd demonstrate what had seemed to be a simple technique and watch them struggle to copy him. For him it came as natural as breathing, Jano took it in stride but Namichi in particular became frustrated when she couldn't master the moves easily.

"Damn it, Sho-kun, it is NOT easy. Show us again, this time slower!" He grinned and turned the katana in her hands to demonstrate a more proper grip. "Your hands are small," he told her. "It's better if you hold them like this instead of trying to copy me."

"I know that," she snapped. "It's not fair that we have to work twice as hard to pick it up." The girl glowered at him as if she thought it was his fault, her long reddish hair held back in a sloppy braid. She shook the tip of her sword under her cousin's nose. "Just show me again, would you?"

Naota sat on the floor of the room they used for practice, munching noisily on an apple. The young hanyou had no interest in learning swordplay, much to the relief and gratitude of the entire infirmary staff. He liked to watch them play at practicing, especially if his close-mouthed cousin Sesshomaru decided to relate any of old Hamako's fantastic stories.

"But why do you need to learn this stuff anyway?" Naota asked. "Everyone knows that one day the Tetsusaiga will be yours and it doesn't need any help from the person who holds it."

"Shows what you don't know," Sesshomaru snapped, irritated. "Father says it's the opposite. The stronger the person who wields the sword, the stronger the sword itself will become." Actually that wasn't as direct a quote as he implied, what his father had said was the more worthy you were of the Tetsusaiga's power, the more likely it would respond and allow itself to be used by its bearer. Sesshomaru didn't quite understand what that had meant, but he had every intention of being ready, and worthy, when his time came.

Sesshomaru caught himself daydreaming and turned guiltily back to Hamako. The lesson might be over but his master had not yet dismissed him. A light snore issued forth from the pile of furs and Sessh realized that his sensei had slipped into the easy sleep of the very aged. He hesitated, wondering if he should call for the old teacher's attendants to take him back to his rooms or if he should try to wake the master himself before leaving.

"Let him sleep," a voice said quietly. Sessh turned and met his father's gaze. "He'll wake when he's damn good and ready."

"Yes, my lord Daimyo," he answered somewhat stiffly.

Inutaisho smiled darkly. "I was watching your practice. Hamako told me that you'd improved considerably. I'm pleased to see that he was not mistaken." Sessh was silent, it was a rare enough occasion for his father to compliment him that he wasn't sure how to respond. So he remained standing, hands clasped lightly behind him waiting for his father's permission to leave. Inutaisho reached over to his son and pulled Sessh's blade from its sheath.

Holding the shiny katana upright between them, Inutaisho examined the edge critically. It was blunt, as was befitting a training blade. Based on the elderly sensei's recommendations he was already having a proper sword forged for his son. It should be ready by the time they returned from their journey. He waved the katana, it looked like a toy in his hands. The fact was not lost on Sesshomaru, standing quietly with his father, watching the morning breeze ruffle the Daimyo's long hair. Inutaisho turned the blade in his hands and passed it back to his son. "Have breakfast with me," he said lightly. "Half hour, my study. Don't be late." Sesshomaru stared at his father as the older demon strode away from him, the morning sun glinting crimson against the elaborate embroidery of his kimono.

*****

Standing outside his father's study door, Sesshomaru tried not to fidget. Household servants passed him silently as he waited, now and then one of them would meet his eyes and smile at the lord's heir. Sesshomaru held himself still with dignity, keeping his face expressionless. He had developed the habit of what Jano called `ice face' at a young age to deal with all the pressures and expectations of being the Daimyo's heir. It worked well too, he was unfailingly polite and self possessed when dealing with the members of his father's court. His father liked to stress the importance of self control, of keeping himself aloof from the petty intrigues and gossip that ran rampant in a fortress this size.

For the most part, being around other youkai his age made Sessh uncomfortable. Even as a very young child he'd been aware of the differences that separated him from the other younglings who lived in his father's household. Their parents were members of the guard, artisans, craftspeople, cleaning staff, councilors and court advisors. None of them could really empathize with his position or understand why he didn't join in with their games or pranks. Jano and Namichi were the rare exceptions, he'd allowed them close enough to find out that they were interested in him solely for friendship, not because of who his father was or what they expected him to be.

And then there was Naota, bane of his existence. Sessh scowled, still smarting from yesterday's mishap. The story was all over the fortress that he'd finally lost his senses and tried to kill the insufferable brat and also that his father had delivered a harsh punishment by putting his son's head upside the wall. He reflected that anyone who knew Naota probably realized the hanyou might have had it coming. It would even raise his estimation in the eyes of certain members of the court, not that Sessh gave a damn what the pompous snobs thought. They didn't have the courage to voice their opinions about his half-breed cousin, not in his father's hearing anyway. Instead they made sly remarks, offhand comments and offered their false sympathetic smiles to Sesshomaru about his cousin's lack of breeding and dirty human blood.

Naota didn't care either way what the court thought about him or his blood. The sneers and whispers seemed to bounce off his cheerful personality like raindrops on polished metal. His earliest childhood memories were of his cousin, they had been raised by the same nurses, two motherless infants under the Daimyo's care, connected by blood and tragedy. Naota had trailed after his cousin incessantly, driving Sessh to distraction even then. Jano and Namichi had picked up the duty of running interference when the hanyou started to really become unbearable, often as not distracting Naota from making Sessh want to pitch him off the tallest tower.

Sessh started at a loud crash from within his father's study and heard the Daimyo's voice raised in anger. You're a fine one to talk to me about self-control, he thought. Inutaisho's temper was legendary, you simply did not cross him. Not if you wanted to keep your head attached to your body. Sesshomaru found it ironic that the same man who lectured his son about his lack of self-control was also capable of such displays of emotional outbursts. He leaned closer to the door, grinning nastily in spite of himself, wondering who was getting the business end of his father's sharp tongue this time.

He could have just about jumped out of his skin when a firm hand clapped onto his shoulder. "Listening at doors now, Sessh? Tsk, so much for the dignity of the bloodline."

Sessh glared up at Izitaki, the tall bodyguard favored him with a smug grin. "Don't sneak up on me like that!"

Izitaki clucked his tongue at his lord's young heir. "Watch your mouth, pup. Is there some reason you're lurking in the corridor and listening at the door like a chambermaid spying on her mistress?"

"I'm not spying," Sessh said, trying to pull together his tattered dignity. "My father told me to come here. He told me not to be late but he's left me standing out here for the last half hour." It rankled him a bit, to be left standing here like a waiting servant. After his father had left him in the practice yard, he'd run all the way back to his room, up several flights of stairs and the long distance through the main courtyard. He'd almost knocked over two elderly retainers, chatting mildly about the season and the upcoming festival plans. He'd apologized on the run and their shrieks of outrage had rang out across the courtyard along with the laughter of amused witnesses.

Once in his room, he stripped and doused himself with a basin of ice cold water, no time to wait for it to heat. He scrubbed himself as well as he could and roughly toweled his shoulder length hair dry before pulling it up in a topknot, cursing as he tried to twist the unruly mass into some kind of order. He wrapped a ribbon with the house colors around the not too messy shock of hair and pulled on his next-to-best formal clothes, grimacing to himself as his claws caught on the fine fabric and snagged it. Dressed and bathed, he raced to his father's study so that he could walk to the door in an unhurried, dignified pace, arriving several minutes early.

Izitaki edged him to the side as the Daimyo's voice grew loud again. The bodyguard frowned then laughed sharply. "That's Councilor Tashiki in there," he informed the young demon. "Don't tell me that old coot is pushing his luck again."

"What does he want?" Sessh asked, fascinated.

Izitaki shot him a look. "Never you mind what he wants, I hope he wants to keep his head but it's no loss to the West if he doesn't. That fat old ass should have been put out of his misery years ago. I'd do it myself if the Daimyo gave me leave to take care of the matter."

That was more than Izitaki had ever admitted in his presence before and Sessh was struck silent. Rumor had it that if the Daimyo wanted someone dead and didn't feel it warranted his personal attention for whatever reason, this would be the man he'd send. Izitaki or Ari, one or the other, bodyguards and brothers. He looked up at the tall, lean youkai speculatively. Izitaki was smiling unpleasantly at whatever he heard, his fangs glinting slightly in malicious enjoyment. Suddenly, he grabbed Sessh by the arm and pulled him away as the door blew open from Inutaisho's youki strike. "OUT!" the Daimyo thundered.

A plump and richly dressed older demon scurried from the room, ducking his head anxiously. Izitaki started laughing and the councilor shot him a venomous look, his hands smoothing the front of his fine clothing. "Congratulations, Tashiki-san. That's the loudest I've heard him yell this week. You have my admiration."

The councilor didn't answer but his eyes lingered on the curious face of the lord's heir momentarily. He might have responded to the bodyguard's disrespect but obviously reined in his annoyance when he realized he was being observed by an interested Sesshomaru. He instantly adopted an oily tone. "A difference of opinion, I assure you, young lord. Your father values my opinion highly enough to be direct in his comments to me."

Izitaki snorted derisively as the councilor moved away. "My ass he values your opinion." He slapped the boy on the shoulder. "Well, come on. Looks like the smoke has cleared and it should be safe to go inside. You can go first," he added wickedly.

Sesshomaru poked his head in the door. His father was pacing the study carpet, his hands behind his back and a dark look fixed on his face. Sessh stood quietly as Izitaki slipped by him, catching his father's gaze. Izitaki sniffed the air. "Ah, you didn't even scorch him, my lord. I'm disappointed."

Inutaisho's mouth quirked in a smile. "It was tempting," he confessed. His golden eyes fell on his son. "Sesshomaru, good. Let's have breakfast on the balcony." The lord swept out of the room to the generous veranda that wrapped around this side of the tower where his study and other personal rooms were located. Sessh followed his father outside, the breeze had warmed from the cheerful summer sun and the sky was a brilliant shade of blue. Inutaisho waved his son to a seat at the small table set up for them and covered with a rich array of breakfast foods. Sessh suddenly realized how hungry he was and hoped that they'd eat first and talk later, if talk was what the Daimyo had on his mind this morning.

"Go on," Inutaisho instructed, waving his hand at the table. Sessh nodded politely before attacking his breakfast. In between bites, he looked cautiously at his father's face. The Daimyo was staring into the distance, seemingly absorbed in the magnificent view. Sessh wondered again what was on his father's mind. It didn't seem to be Naota, it didn't seem to be anything he had done or hadn't done. His father's expression was completely neutral, not expressionless, but obviously deep in thought. Sesshomaru glanced in the direction his father was staring. Not far from the fortress was a crystal clear lake that the fortress' young people were fond of swimming in. It was wide and quite deep and the Daimyo's staff urged caution for those who weren't adept in the waters. Also, he had his suspicions that there was something dark and mysterious living at the bottom of that body of water. The lake remained icy cold even in the hottest summer months and it was a refreshing place to spend a lazy afternoon.

Near the lake was a vast expanse of wildflowers, a riot of color and fragrance. It was beautiful and sad at the same time, a simple black obelisk marked the field and the fall of the clan of Sutakasi. He's thinking about his brother, Sesshomaru decided and swallowed the last of his breakfast with a dry throat.

Inutaisho glanced over at his son when the sounds of eating ceased. "I bet you're wondering why you're here today," he said softly.

Sesshomaru swallowed again and nodded. "Yes, my lord Daimyo."

"I will be taking a brief journey this afternoon, to return in three days time. Nothing of major importance, I assure you, but I want you to accompany me just the same. I've made arrangements for you to travel with us." Inutaisho looked away again, a melancholy expression on his face that Sesshomaru found unsettling.

"May I ask where we're going, my lord," his son said quietly. Sessh was becoming more unnerved every minute. His father's strange mood was beginning to affect him.

The lord Daimyo smiled wryly. "I said nothing important, I just want to visit an old friend. You may have heard his name before. He is Totosai and you will find him a very interesting character, I'm sure."

"The swordsmith?" Sessh said in a hushed voice. The famous smith who had forged the Tetsusaiga was said to be a genius, an artist, and completely insane. "Why would you want me to meet him?" the boy asked carefully.

Inutaisho snorted. "I didn't say I did, but as that is what will happen, I want him to get a look at you. You might find yourself asking him to make you a sword someday, so I'd advise that you try to make a favorable impression."

"I'll do my best, my lord," the young man said quietly.

His father suddenly flashed him a grin. "Good. Now for the fun part of the morning. On your feet, Sessh and follow me." The Daimyo stood and went into the study at a brisk pace, leaving his son sitting open mouthed and staring. "I said to follow me, is there something about that you don't understand?" Inutaisho tossed back at his son in an amused voice.

Sessh ran to catch up with him, following his father down the steep stairs that ran from his tower rooms to the main audience hall. Reaching the bottom of the stair, he startled his son by taking a different route through the fortress, nodding genially at passing servants and guards. Sessh had to stretch his legs to keep up with his father's brisk strides, but he refused to break into a run as Naota would have done. He had his pride. The Daimyo was whistling tunelessly to himself, enjoying the walk. "Still with me? he said teasingly.

"Of course. My lord Daimyo," Sessh panted, gritting his teeth.

His father led him in a roundabout way to the open courtyard that separated the main fortress from the stables. Here were housed the various animals and creatures that lived among their youkai masters. Some were common horses, gentled and bred especially by demon hands. These animals would be unable to endure mortals as they had become so attuned to youkai instincts and perceptions. Ordinary horses were skittish and nervous around demons, or so Sessh had been told, but these had been reared to be something more than ordinary. He had his suspicions about the crossbreeding with lower youkai that might have engineered such traits. A few months in the lax handling of humans and even these would revert to a feral state and strike out at the unwary, longing to return to their true masters. Sessh admired the beautiful animals as his father led him to the far end of the stables. He could smell the pulse of the strong hearts and the animals gazed back at the young lord with their quiet, interested eyes.

"Here we are," Inutaisho said pleasantly. He had taken his son to a small exercise yard where the Daimyo's men brushed and cared for their charges. He raised a finger at one of the waiting grooms to bring out his latest acquisition. Sesshomaru stared as the groom brought forth an elegant creature. Its large body was covered in gorgeous dark scales and the twin heads of the beast turned toward the young lord eagerly. Sessh stared as the magnificent creature came closer, its eyes kind and intelligent as it regarded him hopefully.

"For me?" he asked, hardly daring to believe it.

Inutaisho laughed, pleased with his son's reaction. "Yes, for you. I know the twin-headed ones are quite rare, but something about him made me think you two would get along well."

Sessh remembered to breathe again. Rare didn't begin to cover it or even imply the magnitude of his father's gift. Inutaisho smiled faintly as his son's entranced expression. "He's young enough to bond with you," he told the boy softly. "Treat him kindly and you will have a devoted friend for the rest of your life."

His son nodded wordlessly, offering his palms to the demi-dragon, who sniffed them and nudged the young youkai in the chest. The Daimyo moved away quietly, pleased his gift had made such an impact. It was the kind of gesture his own father never would have made, Inutaisho thought, watching as his son approached the beast to stroke one of its necks gently. "I'll just leave you two alone to get acquainted," he said at last, his mind again turning to more important but less pleasant matters. The demon lord walked briskly from the courtyard, a satisfied smile on his lips as his heels rang gently against the smooth gray stones.

END CHAPTER TWO