Author's Note: The chapter name is from an Auden poem. Thank you all for the support and reviews.

Chapter Four: Epitaph for a Tyrant

The smell of victory was blood and it was everywhere; on Sesshoumaru's clothing, his hands, and it painted his sword. He looked down, studying his attire with a mild look of disappointment. The blood was not his, but it was going to ruin the silk. He shook his head. He wasn't going to hear the end of this. All around him the last frantic motions of warfare was playing out to their accorded end. The sky had long since turned gray from the flocks of carrion birds smelling meat and fresh meals. The ground had become mud, mixing dirt with blood and viscera. And the armies of both sides were beginning to reassemble into something like ranks for the last great stand.

Sesshoumaru looked to his left, and right. Tajomaru and Tama had brought their armies in from opposite sides, closing around the mass of men and remains of men that had been his and Nori's forces. Ryuhoji had entered the fray a short time ago and now it was a simple matter of meeting the enemy and hacking them to pieces. No problem. This victory was his.

It smelled sweet.

A sharp slap of pain broke his musings, making him duck and turn, readjusting a grip on his sword. He felt the blood begin to trickle down from the cut on his cheek. He knew his enemy before he even let his sense capture the identity. Only one person would have been that dramatic in getting his attention. Leave it to Nori to have a few surprises though. The scene that greeted him did not caught him off-guard although Sesshoumaru did hesitate.

Nori had lost an eye sometime during the battle but hadn't the time to address it. His pale skin, so much like his nephew's, was pink from burns and sweat and the area around his left eye was blistered and white with puss. Nori's dark hair was gone, shaved for battle, and the crescent moon on his brow seemed to be bleeding. He wore black and red, to hide wounds and blood. In his arms, he held Ryuhoji and a dagger he had used to teach Sesshoumaru to hunt with.

Ryuhoji's eyes were wild and panicked. He was on his last reserves of strength. He was gripping Nori's arm to keep himself steady, while his other hand was vainly trying to keep his insides in. He needed attention if he hoped to survive. Once he looked and saw Sesshoumaru, his face brightened a little as hope seemed to blossom.

"My Lord…" Ryuhoji called weakly. "Help…I don't want to die"

Sesshoumaru frowned, thenignored him, looking at Nori. "Hello, Uncle."

"Ah," Nori exhaled angrily, bringing his grip tighter around Ryuhoji. He seemed to think he had a bargaining chip. "So you still acknowledge our blood, do you?"

He nodded.

"But not enough to take your rightful place!" Nori shouted. "I've come to claim vengeance against my sister's, Sensoumi's, murder. Your place should have been with me, not against me."

"You were challenging my father."

"And I am right to, like she was! Your father has lost his way, Sesshoumaru Prince. If you call yourself Youkai and are proud to be labeled thus, you would not disgrace yourself by following him…that human lover!"

"He is my Lord." Sesshoumaru said plainly. "I will not question a Lord's motives."

"Do you think your place is secure by your blind loyalty, Sesshoumaru? Do you think that the blood and bloodlust you have from your mother will be so easily silenced or condoned in your father's Court? Not anymore…" Nori seemed panicked now. Ryuhoji was getting weaker. Sesshoumaru thought he heard Ryuhoji's heart slowing.

But there was still time to save him.

"Mark my words, nephew." Nori hissed. "You will be set aside like Sensoumi was for these humans and whatever abomination your father's fevered infatuation with them produces."

"Hm. Is that why you hold my wounded soldier as a shield?" Sesshoumaru asked, stepping closer. "To get my attention to give me this last warning."

Nori seemed to deflate a little, the reality of the battle sinking in. "He is my ransom."

"Oh?"

"You will let me pass, nephew. Pass unharmed and uninjured, and in exchange you will have your soldier returned to you." Nori seemed to catch Sesshoumaru's reply before it was mouthed. "And don't claim to owe nothing to this creature…my spies have told me, you favor this one among the rest."

"If I refuse?" Sesshoumaru asked. Time was running out, he knew, the heart beating in Ryuhoji's chest was softening. He could still imagine hearing it.

Nori put pressure on Ryuhoji's wounds, making the demon howl in pain. For a moment, he looked to revert to his true form but Nori's magic keep him contained. He sank pitifully deeper into Nori's grip, begging to live.

His uncle gaze softened. "Let me pass. My armies are broken, my sister murdered, and with you…my family destroyed. There is nothing more Inutaisho can take from me."

"He wants your life."

"But you cannot." Nori paused, searching Sesshoumaru's eyes. "I am your family…I love you. I taught you how to hunt, to fight when you were a pup. Don't you remember? I took care of you when your father was too busy to even acknowledge you…you cannot have turned that to hate. Not even you could have."

Sesshoumaru drew his blade and pointed it down. His eyes flickered to Ryuhoji, then to Nori. They were the same height. "Ryuhoji?"

"Ses…Sesshoumaru?" Came the weak reply. Ryuhoji's eyes flickered open and with great effort they were lifted to meet him. A small smile appeared again, through the tears and pain. He knew it would be okay now, Sesshoumaru would rescue him.

"Stand up straight, Ryuhoji." There was strained gentleness in his voice, as if kindness pained Sesshoumaru but still the voice remained low and life-giving for Ryuhoji who was desperate for it. Sesshoumaru looked up at Nori, a quiet unsure look, and Nori read acceptance of the terms. The calmness of his manner made each party read whatever they wished from it, and because it suited his purposes he let them.

Sesshoumaru readjusted the grip on his sword, coming closer to them. "Stand up straight, little one. Do this for me."

Ryuhoji nodded, and inhaled: bracing himself for the pain to come. But with resolve and eagerness to please, the Youkai hoisted himself to his full length despite having Nori's arm still wrapped around him. Sesshoumaru could see the bone in his wound, and for a moment, he flinched. But he was right: they were the same height.

So when Sesshoumaru swung his sword up and attacked; he aimed for Ryuhoji's heart. Going through Ryuhoji's broken body was like piercing cloth, it took almost no pressure at all, but Sesshoumaru keep driving the sword until the hilt slammed into Ryuhoji's chest. He never made a sound, but Nori screamed in pain and slumped down bringing Ryuhoji and Sesshoumaru down with him.

Ryuhoji's eyes were opened when he died and remained set on Sesshoumaru. They only turned away when Sesshoumaru yanked his sword from both bodies to return it to the scabbard and then, the poet's eyes faced heaven.

Tajomaru would be the only one brave enough to ask why, and Sesshoumaru's response would be simple.

"He was in the way."

Sesshoumaru jolted up in his sleep, his hand searching for the Tokijin. He stopped short of calling Jaken and Rin, as he realized with a brief moment of disgust, his charges weren't with him tonight. Sitting up, and pushing his back against a tree, he tried to close his eyes; only to open them again as the image of Ryuhoji's dead eyes staring at him came rushing to his mind. He was unaccustomed to dreaming, let alone dwelling on memories, and if truth be told, Sesshoumaru would have rather left that particular memory to fester in shadow. It was not regret that made it so displeasing, merely the time that had passed since it. Ryuhoji was dead, and had been for years. He disliked being haunted by a memory.

To ease himself, Sesshoumaru leaned his head against the trunk and thought of Rin.

She has Ryuhoji's eyes.

He had never realized that before. It was those sad, terrible all-knowing eyes that seemed to cut to his bone and marrow and know things he wished no creature alive to know. She had Ryuhoji's eyes. And if pressed, he knew she had his quiet nature, his thoughtfulness and that childish devotion to him. He found himself wanting to see her suddenly, to see her small figure set against a sky far too big and ominous for her to face alone, and to see that she knew he was close.

Sesshoumaru felt another stab of disgust. He was sounding pathetic, like his father or his brother. He bore none of their weakness. Even as he thought this, those eyes came to mind again. Sesshoumaru stood, rubbing his left side for warmth. It took him a few, uncertain moments to decide he wasn't content there and wanted to return. He had had enough of memory lane.

"Tama, wake up." He called, walking away. "The air is stale here." He shook his head, hoping the cold air would bite at his senses and wake him from this air of melodrama. It was then, in his attempts to wake, that he realized the blood caked under his claws.

He thought he heard screams, or perhaps the echo of such things. Frowning, he strained to remember. He and Tama had wanted sport, in their true forms. They had gone looking for Youkai. Low level demons were always ready for a fight, and would provide an exercise if not a worthy adversary.

The blood on his hand was not Youkai. It had a different scent.

He growled, "Tama, wake up!"

The old Fox growled in his sleep and raised its head. Blinking, surprised to see its companion in human form again, it growled and transformed. Tama stretched his arms over his head. "Yes, Lord Sesshoumaru, what it is?" A deep chuckle escaped from the yawns. "Don't tell me you're hungry again."

"Where did we go?"

"You don't know?" Tama frowned at the expression. "We were searching for Youkai, but you grew tired of petty games." He seemed pleased with something. "You wanted a hunt. I followed and backed you."

Sesshoumaru looked at his hand. It was a time before he chose to speak again. "How many?"

"Since when has that mattered?"

"How many, Tama?" He looked over, "There's a mortal child in my company now…" He had said it not as explanation, but merely to remind himself. Rin. Rin with the dead friend's eyes. "How many?"

"Room for one more," Tama answered, misreading the scene. "One more to make amends."

Sesshoumaru dropped his hand and turned, walking back towards the direction of Tama's palace. He could smell it from here; they had not gone far.

"Where are you going?" He heard the Fox ask, but he ignored it. He sensed something different on the air, almost as if winter had chosen to stay longer. Everything smelled dead to him.

"If you run to your whelp, at least go in your true form. It'll be faster."

Sesshoumaru paused to consider. He knew Tama would not like what he was going to say but he couldn't seem to bring himself to care. Those eyes were too preoccupying. "I prefer this form for the time."

Tama watched until Sesshoumaru's ghostly form disappeared into the darkness; the Western Lord never shifted, never even so much as callingon his powers fortransportation. He was walking…like a human. Tama felt a surge of hatred. Earlier, during the hunt, when Sesshoumaru had been unencumbered by human forms or human wards, Tama had thought he'd seen the demon he once knew. He knew with certainty this thing with Sesshoumaru's scent was not the Western Lord. He was not the demon that had butchered friends to ensure his goals. He had become soft.

Human.

Tama shook his head, swearing. No, he thought, he would not lose another friend to weakness. Ryuhoji had died because he no longer fought for to live. Sesshoumaru wouldn't have killed him otherwise. He had been weak, and they would never accept weakness. Tajomaru didn't understand that, he had been blinded by pain and emotion. He and Sesshoumaru never suffered this. He would not allow them to do so now.

Tama called upon his powers to shift; in his other forms, he would get to the girl faster then Sesshoumaru.

Then, he could remove what was poisoning his Lord.