How much worse can this get?
Kagome was in no mood to struggle with the brutes that now surrounded her. They were armed, obviously ill tempered, but weren't making an effort to hurt her. If they were going to hurt her, then they would have already killed her and left her for dead in the woods. This wasn't enough to entirely comfort her, though. She was, after all, a fifteen year-old female in the clutches of foreign men of questionable ethics.
Fretting over her immediate future, Kagome received a ringing endorsement for her fears. One of the musketeers, walking closely behind her, lurched forward and "accidentally" grabbed Kagome's right buttock.
A sudden wave of disgusted trembling ran over her skin. The color rapidly drained from her face and she was left pale. Out of her cold countenance, red embers flared into a red-faced fury. Kagome span around to look her harasser square in his bulldog face. He was wearing a short-lived smile.
"'Ow's 'bout ye 'turn the other cheek', darlin'?"
His English, already difficult to understand amongst his countrymen, was entirely lost on the young Japanese. However, more than the language barrier kept Kagome from finding the young man's jibes funny.
A loud cracking sound sent the offensive young man reeling backwards a couple steps. His injured face was distorted into a grimace. Removing his hand, it could be seen that long delicate fingers could leave long, thin, stripes across any face. The awkward silence that filled the air made it a moment stuck in time. This was instantly changed, however, when the young man with bulldog's features roared towards Kagome, screeching things that she was better off not being able to translate.
Despite her lack of linguistic skills, Kagome quickly understood that the red marks led to a completely reddened face, contorted in rage and barreling towards her. This flare of hatred caused Kagome to stumble backwards, but this didn't help her escape the man's wrath as he grabbed her arm in one hand and raised the other in a fist.
"I'll teach ye, ye filty little 'eathen!"
"Mr. Carpenter!"
An invisible hand stopped the brutish lout. It was the one European who spoke the language fluently and talked the lord into giving Kagome to him. Kagome didn't know this man, or what his motivations were, but sorely appreciated his hold over the aggressive deviant. Their conversation, which was completely alien to her, was continued.
"You forget yourself, midshipman!"
"But, sir," Carpenter protested, "that wretched 'arpy struck me face, she did!"
Kagome tensed when she saw the man, once again on horseback, turn a studious eye to her.
"Mr. Carpenter," his words floating around her, "as I am entirely familiar with your character, I have no qualms with this woman bashing your brains out."
The superior scowled at the guilty party for a few moments before snapping, "Now, remove yourself to the rear of the column and mind your wandering hands. Otherwise I'll strike you myself, and then have you consigned to the brig!"
Unbeknownst to Kagome, a reputation for keeping such promises made the rider a scourge of a disobedient man's life. The young man instantly made for the rear of the group, where he would be safe from temptations.
The man on horseback turned his eyes to Kagome again. This time with a graven face, one that gave a piercing gaze. The look was more disconcerting than the grasping palm of the bulldog-faced young man. It seemed more malicious than mere lust.
"Sorry."
She barely caught the apology, if that was what he had said. The imperious European had spoken with perfect clarity. Still, it was unsettling that he had made the move to apologize. Something invaders aren't obligated to do.
Just what do they want with me?
Coming to the edge of the woods, they all reached a clearing, a beach. The waves of the ocean rose and fell in dark pulses. From out of the waves, a dark shape protruded skyward. The broad body and high spires resting on the water suggested the outline of a ship. At the edge of the waters, skiffs patiently waited to carry those present aboard the larger craft. Kagome's heart sank.
"Go on, get in there!"
Rough shoves following the command easily placed Miroku, Sango, and Inuyasha into their new cell. The gruff dungeon masters were oblivious to Inuyasha's wound, even when they had caused him to stumble and fall on the damaged shoulder. The gash had attempted to heal, but the rough treatment ripped the tender flesh anew and caused fresh blood to spill forth. Neither attentive to, nor sympathetic with, this suffering the guards callously began to close the door.
Sango was the first to stand and speak. Enraged by the series of events that led to this most recent abuse, Sango voiced her indignation.
"What kind of treatment is this for innocent people? We've done nothing illegal, and Miroku's even a monk! Just where do you get the idea to…"
Sango was cut short by the guards' uncouth response, "Yeah, yeah." The thundering slam of the prison door ended the discourse over human rights. Before Sango's temper could flare any higher, Inuyasha's grunting pains seized her attention.
The pains, which ached down to the chipped and cracked bones, were sapping him of his limited energies. He considered this further evidence of why he should be disgusted with a completely human body. As a demon he could have shrugged the searing hot wound off as if it were mild rain. The fatalistic existence that was occasionally forced upon him caused him to cherish his demon's blood all the more.
Presently, Inuyasha was locked in a hopeless struggle to set himself upright. Observing the weakened half-demon's pitiful crusade to lift himself up, Miroku and Sango came to his assistance.
"Get off," his combative nature challenged. Despite their good intentions behind their actions, Inuyasha still took this as a sign of weakness on his part. "I'll be fine, I just have to rest up a little bit."
Sango disagreed with his diagnosis saying, "Don't be so stubborn, especially now. We're in serious trouble and you have a terrible gash in your shoulder."
Miroku offered his secondary opinion, "That's right, if we are to have any hope of escape, you'll need to be well taken care of. Now, lie still!"
With a slightly more than rough shove, Miroku risked a violation of his pacifist's vows, but accomplished his objective. Seeing the wisdom in their protests, and physical abuse, Inuyasha reluctantly resigned himself to medical treatment. Instead, as his friends took various lengths of bandage from some pieces of Miroku's robes, Inuyasha swore various oaths about his misfortunes and at his friends when they mismanaged his wound. In spite of the tirade, which caused Sango to blush in embarrassment under such an entirely masculine howling, the likes of which she'd never heard in her life, they finally completed the operation.
Some time after Inuyasha's ordeal, a decent conversation had gotten under way. The topic of the discussion varied along details relating to their international captors, the purpose of their incarceration, and the chances of escape.
"We've got to get out of here!"
Inuyasha's explosive talk drove Miroku to correct his behavior, "Keep your voice down Inuyasha. Screaming like that will get the guards' attention."
Miroku's face softened as he became more secretive, "Besides, no good can come from our imprisonment, so we already know that we must escape."
"For the good of Kirara," Sango grimly added.
"And Kagome," Inuyasha spat with vengeful wrath.
Considering the stakes, the trio stood up and began to survey their prison. The thick stones that comprised the walls were too strong to give way to their best efforts. The only door was a sturdy gateway that would laugh at them, secured by its durable planks and heavy iron joints and couplings. The thin streams of bonfire light also mocked them since these were protected from the three by well-anchored bars embedded in the window. None of these vigilant obstacles offered a chance for adults to escape, sending those present into mournful consideration. Indeed, their fates rested in the small hands of Shippo, wherever he was. Inuyasha cursed the sensitive demon-child for his delay.
Where was he?
Shippo was actually doing his very best to help his dear friends. Unfortunately, the castle was a fortress constructed to withstand a mighty human army. The stone and earthwork fortifications easily intimated a small demon, especially a young one like Shippo. He stood at the castle wall, gazing up it in puny amazement.
How am I supposed to breech this?
Shippo studied the wall for some time. He already knew that the wall, really posed no true opposition. Any number of his tricks could easily get him inside the castle. He could even scale the wall with is bare claws. What wracked his brain were the limitless possibilities before him.
For a moment, Shippo fantasized about a heroic rescue that would be worthy of the great masters to record in verse and paints. Although a spirited boy, Shippo wasn't imaginative, or foolish, enough to believe his own fiction. It was after coming to his senses that Shippo determined that a "cloak and dagger" style entrance would be best.
Reaching into his pockets, Shippo produced two scarves that matched his green kimono. Taking one, he bound his hair close to his scalp and covered his ears. The second scarf he used to conceal his nose and mouth. None of this made him less noticeable, but it did give a psychological boost to his courage. Feeling "extra sneaky", the cunning fox-demon slipped away, looking for a shadier part of the castle.
When Kagome was brought to her quarters aboard ship, she was less than enthusiastic when it was proved to be the ship's brig. She stared disbelievingly to her escort, the same European who spoke in broken words.
"You've got to be kidding."
He responded coolly, "Too bad. All prisoners stay here."
An inhospitable nudge guided Kagome into the foul smelling cell. Stopping in the center, she turned to look the man in the face. She was on the verge of lodging another protest, but her escort had none of it. Before she could act further, he rolled his eyes at her, as if she were at fault for some rudeness she was unaware of. He then slammed the cell door shut and locked it.
Seeing the light from his candle fading, and hearing his footsteps trotting away, Kagome dashed over to the tiny hole in the door. Pressing her face to the bars, she shrieked, "Jerk!"
Kagome's shout was answered by the slamming of another door. Standing in the overpowering darkness, Kagome felt utterly despondent. Her lot only worsened when she heard the chattering squeaks of a rat, somewhere in the dark cell. Disgusted and distressed, she groaned from the pressure she felt on her lungs.