Disclaimer: As if.
Author's Note: This is a short chapter, and basically I wrote it because I was so happy that everyone reviewed so quickly! And not only was it fast and thorough, but I received WONDERFUL reviews. You guys have NO idea how happy that makes me.
Alright, well, there's nothing that I really want to say except thank you for your kind reviews, thank you for reviewing the first place, and I'm SO GLAD that you like it!
Chapter 4,Unforeseen Aid
Miroku awoke with the worst headache of his entire life. Even hangovers weren't this bad. He wondered how he had earned such horrible pain until he tried to reach the bump. Then, he found his hands bound and remembered everything that had transpired in the fragrant haze of his bath. The memory of his humiliation rushing him in full Technicolor vision, Miroku taught the cavernous blackness around him a few colorful curses.
Somewhere behind him, there was a whisper of silk and a soft moan of protest to Miroku's infringement on the silence. The prince's heart leapt in his throat and he struggled to turn toward the sound, his amethyst eyes searching the pitch for the one responsible for the disturbance. After minutes that felt like years, the room's other occupant moved again, with greater purpose, and two familiar dark eyes caught the sliver of light that had broken through the confining dark. "Houshi-sama is that you?"
Miroku thanked Buddha and exhaled in relief. "Sango, you're alright," he sighed, lifting himself onto his knees with pure force of will.
The hime nodded mutely, then realized the gesture could not be seen and whispered, "Yes, I'm fine. But how are you? And how did you end up in here?"
Miroku smiled weakly. "I'm fine. I got beat up by one of the prostitutes of this 'fine establishment'."
Sango chuckled a bit, in spite of herself. "So you got beaten by a girl?"
Miroku frowned; it was not a subject he wanted to discuss. Who ever heard of a prince losing his edge and falling into the deceptive coils of an unrefined woman? And moreover, she had defeated him in the one area Miroku could gloat about: his cunning. He decided to change the topic, sensing the conversation's direction. "Are you unbound?"
"Ee," Sango said, and Miroku heard the grimace in her voice. "Apparently they tied me loosely, thinking I couldn't get free."
Miroku had to hold back a laugh. "I wish they had extended the gesture to me as well, but it seems I'm tied securely enough. Would you mind undoing these binds? Then maybe we can find a way out of here."
There was another rustle of silk as Sango stood and moved over to him. When she got close enough, Miroku felt a strand of Sango's earthen-colored hair tickle his cheek. There lingered still some of the heavenly perfumes it had previously been laden with. He found it calming, and breathed deeply as the hime began to work the tight cords around Miroku's hands and feet.
After several minutes of labor, Sango wailed quietly, "This would be so much easier if I had something sharp!"
The words set of a light bulb in Miroku's head. "Ne, Sango, do you still have your pack with you?"
"Yeah," said Sango, hardly listening, as she was preoccupied with the cords. "I'm wearing the kimono from my bag right now since I was so cold." Suddenly, the words seeped into Sango's skull and her hands stopped feverishly working the bindings. "Why do you ask?"
Miroku smiled. "The hairpins are still there?"
Sango gave a happy little cry. "Yes, yes they are!" She stood then and scuttled away, her footsteps growing weaker as she went. Roughly ten yards away, Miroku heard another jovial exclamation and Sango presently returned to his side.
"I've got it!" Miroku could practically feel her beaming. She moved around to his back and put the cold metal pin in his hand so her could feel it. Then, she took the pin and began to saw the ropes.
A few moments later, Miroku's hands were free and then his legs. Taking Sango with him, Miroku rose to his feet. He stretched his muscles out carefully, targeting the areas of pain, and then reached up to examine the bump on the back of his head. The instant he touched it, the pain that shivered through him caused him to feel queasy again. He steadied himself and then more carefully studied the bump with his fingertips.
It was huge, and Miroku had to admit he was surprised that the blow hadn't killed him, or at least redistributed his memory.
Miroku felt the air to his left quiver as Sango groped through the darkness for him. He reached out and closed his hands around hers.
"Houshi-sama," she muttered, "how do we get out of here?"
Miroku scowled and pondered this for several minutes, ignoring the pounding that emitted from his bump.
Finally, he had it.
--
The thin, petite figure of a woman moved down the stairs with liquid-like grace, her icy-blue eyes scanning the carpeted room below for any occupants. When she found none, she smirked and rushed toward the cellar door, her deep, deep black hair catching the light with a crimson sheen. Her stealthy steps were heard within, and she noted the scurrying of the captives. Her rouged smirk grew cockier.
Approaching the lock, she produced the key from within her rose-colored kimono. She turned the key and with a cautious look around, the woman opened the door. She watched amusedly as the houshi stumbled into the light, blinking ferociously and moving to protect the princess. "Ah," she sniggered, her rich voice heavy with sarcasm, "so noble, houshi."
Miroku made a face as he recognized the woman before him. "Scarlet"
The woman answered in the affirmative.
The princess grabbed the houshi's robes. "Houshi-sama, this is the whore who beat you?"
Scarlet's harsh, crystal eyes flashed and she glared at Sango with dangerous ferocity. "Well, we can't all pull off the pretty, sweet, virginal maidens-in-distress act, can we, hime?" Her every word oozed with poison. Sango flinched and moved back into the shadows. Seeing her words had left a sufficient mark on the princess, Scarlet let her anger disperse. She then beckoned to them to follow her.
Miroku hesitated. She sighed, exasperated. "Please, I'm not going to hurt you." She rolled her icy-blue eyes and motioned again. "You don't have a lot of time if you want to get out of here, and I'm the only one with the keys to your escape route." She pulled a set of keys from her kimono. As she did, she exposed a small tattoo of a phoenix on her chest. Miroku made a mental note of the defining mark.
The houshi arched an eyebrow. "And why should we trust you? You're one of the bad guys, aren't you?"
A sly smile filled Scarlet's pretty face. "Houshi, I have no loyalties to any group. I'm a drifter, and I serve whosoever will help me best." As she spoke, she crossed the room and removed Miroku's shakujou from a chest. She tossed it to him.
Sango grimaced. "A cowardly way of life," she spat.
"Perhaps," Scarlet said, "but I get what I want. And that's all that's important to me. Maybe I'll pay for it someday, but it really makes no difference to me right now." Normally, she wouldn't have let the comment pass so easily, but she had already injured the princess's pride, and no further retribution was required.
Miroku hesitated a moment longer, studying Scarlet's face, which she kept devoid of emotion. Finally, he reached back and wrenched Sango from the cellar. "Show us the way."
"That's what I like to hear," Scarlet smiled.
--
It was no time before they were out in the open again. Ahead of them stretched a small service road, which turned sharply ten yards ahead of them and out of view.
"How can we be sure we can trust her, houshi-sama?" Sango whispered into Miroku's ear as he helped her from the underground passage they had taken.
It was Scarlet who answered, however. "I ask you, hime, aren't you free?" Against the snowy background, her mysterious and majestic beauty was even more evident. Her glossy locks poured over her shoulders, which were unshielded by the crimson kimono she wore. Her un-blemished face bore a look of amusement.
"You could have an ambush awaiting us," Sango pointed out, motioning toward the bend in the road.
Scarlet shrugged and then smiled wickedly. "I could, but then again, I could not. The option is yours: go back to the cellars where you know you'll be safe until they hand you over to the master, or you could take your chance at freedom."
Miroku frowned. "Why are you helping us?" he asked. "What can we possibly do for you that would aid you?"
Scarlet's evil smile grew. "I sense that we will meet again, houshi. And when that time comes, I'd rather not be the one in debt to you."
This time, when she said houshi', there was a distinct hint of sarcasm in her voice. Could it be possible that she knew?! Miroku dismissed the thought, not wanting to dwell on it, grabbed Sango, and began down the road.
--
Several hours later, Sango and Miroku left the highway and moved up the towering hill upon which lay the ruined testament of the Kawate regime. Blinded by the success of their escape, it never occurred to either of them to think of what might lay ahead
For deep in the smoldering remains of the once proud estate, a shadow lingered, its mouth full of curses for the sole survivor. Hate festering within its blackened heart, the shadow waited in growing apprehension for the return of the himeand for the oji who accompanied her.
-Ichimu
P.S. Don't you just love cliffhangers?? Reviewing makes me type faster (it really does!)!!!!