The Riddle
By
Nana
Chapter 2
Peril in the Forest
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Author's Notes: Fairy tales are remarkable because they have the ability to induce this transient suspension of disbelief in the reader. Literary license has never been more evident in any body of writing as the fairy tale.
"The Riddle" is a fine example of a piece of writing incorporating heavy use of literary license. The details may not always make sense, but hey, that's what makes Happily Ever Afters extra special, ne?^^ Anyways, just warning you guys that a highly improbable and illogical situation is coming up for our heroes (but it will all make sense later^^), all based on the fairy tale. Enjoy! R&R very welcome.
Disclaimer: "The Riddle" belongs to the Brothers Grimm, and Miroku and Hachi belong to Rumiko Takahashi. This fic is made for Sango-sama's Fractured Feudal Fairy Tales Challenge.
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"Your Highness," wheezed Hachi after a long period of silence, "forgive me for saying this, but I think we're really lost!"
Miroku sighed as he finally allowed his horse to slow down and finally stop. Even if Hachi had not bothered to voice out his observation, it didn't take a genius to figure out that they had been lost in the deep, dark woods for well over two hours now.
They should have known not to take any shortcut into the woods to get to the nearest city beyond it, especially when the day was already near its end. It had been a mistake to heed the advice of a traveling merchant they had met earlier on the road.
In fact, this whole Royal Tour had been a mistake from the very beginning, thought the Prince as he got down from the saddle. It had been a mistake on his part to underestimate his father's wrath, and it had been a mistake on his father's side to toss him out without bothering to have his secretary arrange the Tour in a suitable fashion fit for a Prince. All he had as evidence that he was his father's son was a short, hurriedly written letter--just in case a head of state would demand valid identification.
Now, he was reduced to the station of an obscure, richly attired vagabond wandering without aim throughout the kingdom and beyond—a moving target for robbers and mischief of all kinds.
Still, he had a nasty feeling this was his father's way of punishing him. In fact, he had only been allowed one servant to tag along with him in order to meet his every need; in the end, he had picked his own faithful personal servant, Hachi to accompany him.
What now? Thought Miroku, surveying the scene before them as night took hold of the land on swift wings. They had penetrated deep into the heart of the forest. They had reached a clearing where the trees gave way to a small, gurgling stream. Even so, the beauty of the place was tainted with shadows—too many shadows all around, hovering, vaguely menacing.
He shook off the curious feeling of unease and said, "Well, Hachi, it's quite apparent we'll just have to camp out here for the night."
Hachi winced as he got down from his horse. "Yes, Your Highness," he said, sighing. "I suppose you're right. I'd better start looking for some dinner, then…"
He stopped, shivering.
"What is it?"
Hachi shook his head. "It's…it's nothing," he said. "It's just that…well, this place gives me the creeps."
Miroku laughed, and suddenly checked himself when they heard the faint howl of a wolf.
Wolves…
The woods were certainly no place to camp out, but the Prince was used to more dangerous situations than a pack of wolves. Still, it would be very ideal indeed if they were just able to avoid messing with the creatures as a whole…
"Go on," he urged Hachi. "I'll stay and look after the horses."
After Hachi had gone, Miroku sat for a while near the stream and let his tired mind wander as he watched the horses graze.
Well, here he was, in the middle of nowhere, banished from home for defying his own father. Perhaps it would be easier if he just gave in to his father's wishes. After all, he was only being asked to pick a bride from a legion of eligible princesses and noble court ladies. It's not as though he were being asked to give up an arm and a leg.
And there were so many lovely ladies to choose from.
The thought of meeting a fair damsel for the first time was always exciting (and there were lots of these situations presenting themselves), but the Prince invariably felt himself mentally signing off each time he got to know the lady well enough.
He could not help feeling like this, and although he had tried to overcome it, the mood would just sweep over him and the romance would come screeching to a halt then and there. The rationalization part would come in, and he would find some consolation in the thought that he was doing the right thing.
After all, how could he expect to live a life of Happily Ever After with a bride whom he had no real feelings for?
What was the matter with him? What was he looking for?
Whatever it was, it was very clear he had not found it yet.
Miroku snapped out of his reveries as he heard rustling sounds from the nearby shrubs and underbrush. The plants parted and gave way to a young girl.
She was dressed in a simple gray frock, her hair neatly rolled up and covered with a plain cloth turban. She was carrying a bucket, and was heading straight to the other side of the stream without noticing Miroku.
The Prince stared, not quite sure if he could believe what he was seeing. Was this being an apparition? Could she be what she appeared to be—a simple village maid no older than thirteen, fourteen years—or was she a malign spirit with the ability to take on the form of the living?
Whatever she was, instinct prompted Miroku to greet her out of courtesy.
"Good evening," he called, and saw the girl start at the sound of his voice. The water she had collected with her bucket fell from her hands and spilled its contents on the grass at her feet.
She didn't look like an evil spirit.
"Oh! I'm sorry, I didn't see you," she said, retrieving the bucket from the ground.
"Here, let me help you," he said as he took hold of the container and refilled it from the stream. "I thought I wasn't going to see a human face anywhere around here. I'm really glad to know otherwise. What is your name?"
"Koharu."
"Koharu. That's a pretty name. Do you live near here?"
She tucked away a stray wisp of hair that had fallen from her turban and her eyes were suddenly wary. "Yes. In fact, the cottage where my stepmother and I live is just a short walk away from here," she said.
Even as Miroku wondered at the uncomfortable tone of her voice, he pressed on, "I'm really sorry to ask this much from you so soon, but you see, my servant and I lost our way earlier on. Do you think we can spend the night in your cottage? We are ready to shoulder the compensation, it's really no problem—"
"Why, yes," said Koharu sadly, "you certainly can spend the night with us, and please don't worry about paying, but…"
"But--?"
Koharu bit her lip before continuing, "I wouldn't advise it. Please, for your own sake, don't go."
"Why not?" Miroku had to admit he was intrigued.
Koharu sighed and said softly, "My stepmother practices the evil arts and is not well-disposed toward strangers. I fear for your safety."
Curioser and curioser!
Hachi certainly had cause to be afraid of this part of the woods, as the cottage the girl had mentioned was inhabited by a creature no less than a witch.
But it was already getting too dark and cold out. Witch or no witch, Miroku thought it was so much better to brave the perils under the roof of a witch than to do battle with the elements at night.
Having made up his mind, Miroku grasped the young girl's hands in his and said, "We'll risk it. Will you take us in?"
Koharu looked down at the hands that clasped hers. "Oh. All right," she said as a slow blush crept to her pale cheeks.
"Y—Your Highness!" screeched Hachi as he came bursting in from behind them. "I'm so sorry. I have not been able to find—"
He stopped when he saw the girl beside his master.
"That's all right, Hachi," said Miroku as he turned to his servant. "Koharu has been kind enough to house us for the night."
As they walked back to the cottage, Koharu began to fill them in on her warnings.
"She will offer you something to eat and drink. Please make sure not to take in anything. She specializes in brewing poisons," she said.
Miroku ignored the steadily widening gaze of his servant, and said, "Thanks for the warning. I shall certainly keep that in mind."
And sure enough, a cottage was soon in sight. They could see wisps of smoke trailing up from the small chimney.
Inside the witch's hut, a strong odor of herbs permeated every corner.
The old woman herself was seated in a small wooden chair by the fireside.
"Koharu, what took you so long in getting that pail of water?" was her greeting to the girl the moment they entered.
Koharu murmured her apologies and advancing to the side of her stepmother, whispered something in her ear. The old woman turned quickly toward the strangers, startled by her stepdaughter's news that they had guests.
Her bloodshot eyes crinkled and a wide, unpleasant grin spread across her wide lips when she beheld the two newcomers.
"Welcome to our humble abode," she said in a voice. "You' re just in time for some dinner. Come sit and warm yourselves."
She got up and stirred the contents of the small pot in the fireplace.
"Good evening, madam," said Miroku gravely. "Thank you very much for your kind invitation, but unfortunately, we have already eaten."
This said after he delivered a swift and deliberate elbow punch at Hachi's stomach, which had just then betrayed its condition by growling.
"Oh really. How very unfortunate. Would you care for some wine then?"
"No, thank you."
"Tea?"
"We've had a long day. It would be really wonderful if we could catch some sleep now." Miroku tried to water down the bluntness of his reply with a smile.
The smile waned a little from the old woman's face. She shrugged, as if to indicate she couldn't care less. "Suit yourself," she said as she turned back to the fire.
"Just stay alert, Hachi, in case she tries anything," muttered Miroku from a corner of his mouth as Koharu led them to their room.
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By morning, she didn't try anything, and they were only too glad to be on the way again. They made haste to leave before the old witch could find out.
As Miroku mounted his horse, he turned to Koharu. "Come with us," he urged. "We can take you anywhere you want to go."
Koharu shook her head. "I can't. Stepmother has seen to it that I will remain by her side for as long as she lives. It is the only way I will be safe."
Miroku fell silent as the implication of her words became clear. Certainly, the witch had the means at her disposal to find out where Koharu had gone and track her down. And then what? He was not sure if he could protect her when the time came.
Just then, they could hear the old crone calling from within the house.
"I must go," Koharu said urgently. "Please don't worry about me; I will be safe with her. Just go."
Before she could rush back into the house, Miroku got hold of her hand and, pressing a quick kiss on it, said, "We are grateful."
When she had gone, Miroku turned to Hachi. "What's wrong?" he asked a bit sharply as Hachi tried to lock his saddle onto his horse in vain.
"Your Highness…my saddle! Somebody's destroyed the clasp!"
Before he could say anymore, though, they could see the old woman running out of the house. It was all they could do not to run for it.
"Don't you have the decency to say your farewells properly to the head of the house?" She yelled at them.
"Our apologies, Madam, but—"
"Just wait a minute! I want to give you a parting drink!" With that, she stopped and ran back into the house.
"Go, Your Highness! I will catch up!" Hachi said as he desperately tried to tie the ends of the saddle around his horse.
Without another word, Miroku took off.
Hachi was still at it when the old crone came back with a steaming goblet. "Where is your master?" she asked as she ran over with the drink. "Bring this to him!"
Before she could reach him, though, her legs gave way as she tripped on her skirts. Hachi watched, terrified, as the liquid flew out of the goblet in a fine arc through the air.
It missed him by mere centimeters, but there was no preventing his steed from getting splattered with the lethal liquid as it came down on the animal.
Instantly, his horse collapsed on the ground in wild contortions. Within seconds, it was dead.
Hachi did not hesitate. He bolted.
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At the end of forest path leading away from the dreadful cottage, Miroku waited.
Soon, he could see Hachi's rotund shape making its way over to him at incredible speed.
"Y-Your Highness!" He panted as he reached Miroku.
"Where's your horse?!"
"It—that drink! It was poison—my horse got splattered—died instantly—"
"Come on. We don't have a moment to lose," Miroku said as he yanked at his horse's harness.
"B-but my saddle! Our provisions!" Hachi suddenly remembered the things he had left behind in his panic to get away.
"Leave them!" commanded Miroku. "Hachi--!"
Before he could say more, Hachi had turned back and was retracing his steps toward the cottage.
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When he finally got back, not a soul was in sight outside the house.
His poor horse was still there in the place where it had fallen. Smelling the unmistakable stench of death, a raven had already come to partake of its meat. It was so greedy it had not bothered to fly away from Hachi as he got close.
Hachi hastily retrieved the bags and his damaged saddle, and almost as an after thought, decided to kill the bird that had been gorging on his horse.
"Who knows when and where our last meal's going to come from," muttered Hachi as he stuffed the raven into one of the bags. "You'll come in handy then, my friend."
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