Chapter Twenty-Three: Keelhauled*

"Captain Ichigo Kurosaki," boomed the deep voice from the dais set above the military courtroom. "Rise and face the tribunal."

Ichigo stood, head held high. He wore the full, dress uniform of a Royal Navy captain – the same uniform in which he had received his commission as captain of the Vincent.

The courtroom was silent, despite the fact that every seat had been taken and several dozen onlookers stood at the back. Out of the corner of his eye, Ichigo saw Hisagi, standing at attention against the wall just feet away. For a moment, their eyes met in silent acknowledgement. Hisagi's face was unreadable, but his eyes spoke volumes. Ichigo knew he had wanted to testify on Ichigo's behalf, but the Captain-Commander had refused to allow it. Ichigo understood why, of course, but he knew that Hisagi felt as though he had betrayed his captain and his friend. For an instant, Ichigo closed his eyes, in tacit acknowledgement of the unspoken support, as if to say 'it is enough that you are here now, at my side'.

"I will accept the decision of the tribunal without question, sir," Ichigo said, taking a deep breath.

The entire return trip to England had seemed oddly surreal. Locked in the brig, with little to do but think about the implications of his actions in helping the Druids, Ichigo had sometimes wondered if he hadn't imagined the entire adventure. He could have escaped easily at any time, of course. But he had understood what was at stake, and he was resigned to his fate, whatever that might be. He would not have Hisagi be held responsible for allowing a prisoner to escape; he would keep his word and return to London.

Hisagi, who would visit him several times a day, seemed far more uncomfortable with the situation. The revelation that his first officer and closest friend was a Druid himself had answered the many questions Ichigo had asked himself over the years they had served together. It was during one of these visits that Hisagi had finally told him that it was Yamamoto himself who had encouraged Hisagi to plant the seed of the Druids with Ichigo.

"I'd wondered why you told me Rukia's ship vanished," Ichigo had said, with a laugh. "You could have said nothing and I might have let it go. You saw it happen, after all, not I."

"I wish now that I…," Hisagi had begun.

"Stop," Ichigo had interrupted, shaking his head. "I don't regret what's happened. I don't regret any of it."

"The Vincent needs her captain," Hisagi had said.

"She has her captain," Ichigo had replied, smiling. "And a damn good one at that."

"She can wait for your return," Hisagi had insisted.

"Shuuhei," Ichigo had said, with a wistful grin, "this captain won't be returning, regardless of what happens at the court martial. You must know that."

Hisagi had sighed. "Yes, I figured that would be the case. Still, I hoped…" His voice had trailed off.

Ichigo had clapped his hand on Hisagi's shoulder. "Chin up, man," he had said, laughing again. "We can still drink to old times when you're in port."

Now, standing and facing the tribunal, awaiting word of his fate, Ichigo was quite serene about his future. He had received the news upon his arrival that Rukia had made it safely back to Thyilea and that Urahara was tasked with making sure she remained there. The Talisman no longer made him feel weak or dizzy and, if anything, his newfound memories of his past lives gave him strength to face the uncertainty of his future.

"Captain Kurosaki," said Yamamoto, his face as impassive as ever, "you stand accused of treason, piracy, and the murder of a superior officer." There were murmurs in the courtroom from behind Ichigo, but he looked directly at Yamamoto. "After having considered your own testimony in this matter, as well as the testimony of witnesses, this court martial finds you guilty of all charges."

There was a collective gasp from the courtroom, as the impact of the verdict sank in. Ichigo did not move a muscle; he had expected this from the cold shoulder he had received when he requested an audience with the Captain-Commander weeks ago.

"Is there anything you wish to say before we pronounce sentence?" Yamamoto added, waiting until the crowd quieted down.

"Only that I am sorry if my actions in any way reflected poorly on those under my command," Ichigo said, avoiding Hisagi's gaze. "The officers and crew of the Vincent have, at all times, acted bravely and in the best interests of Britain. They have done nothing wrong."

Yamamoto's expression did not waiver, although Ichigo heard more whispers from the gallery.

"Captain Kurosaki," said Yamamoto, nodding slightly to acknowledge Ichigo's words, "your crew will not be punished for your misdeeds.

"Thank you, sir," Ichigo replied, his jaw tight.

"The tribunal has little choice, however, with respect to your own punishment. Each crime of which you have been found guilty carries a penalty of death by hanging," Yamamoto continued. "You will be given ten days to put your affairs in order and you will hang at sunup on the eleventh day. Do you understand?"

Ichigo nodded, but said nothing.

"This tribunal stands adjourned," Yamamoto concluded.

The courtroom erupted into a bustle of activity, as two guards came from behind Ichigo, replacing the shackles on his wrists and ankles. He looked over to Hisagi, whose face was set in anger. Ichigo could see his father and sisters at the front of the courtroom; Yuzu was in tears. Karin, always the braver of the twins, frowned and put her arm on her father's shoulder. Several feet away stood Jones, the young sailor from Ichigo's days as first officer on the Vincent who Ichigo had fought with Hitsugaya to release, along with the other men who had been guarding the Soul Warrior. He saw Ichigo look his way, and raised his hand in a salute, swallowing hard. Ichigo, whose arms were now secured behind his back, nodded to Jones as the guards began to turn him back towards the side door of the courtroom and the holding cells below. As he walked through the door, Ichigo thought he saw a flash of white hair in the crowd, but then it was gone.

"Dream on, Kurosaki," he thought to himself, as he was shoved past a crowd of onlookers and down the stairs into the bowels of the building.

As they walked by, one of the men spit at him and shouted, "Rat bastard traitor!"

Ichigo took a deep breath but said nothing, a muscle twitching in his cheek. If it meant the safety of his people and of Rukia and their child, he would die. He had always known the risk of returning to England, but he would not run from his fate. And, as the iron bars were locked behind him, he knew it had been worth the cost.

Captain-Commander Yamamoto Genryuusai Shigekun sat behind his ancient wooden desk. Rain beat against the window as it often did this time of year in London. Since the Kurosaki boy's conviction five days before, the rain had not let up, nor did it show any signs of abating anytime in the near future. He frowned and looked at the window for several minutes, ignoring the pile of paperwork on his desk.

"Damn boy," he thought, his frown deepening.

There was a knock on the door. "Sir," said his lieutenant, cautiously, "I am sorry to interrupt you, but there is someone here to see you. She insists she must speak to you. I…"

"Send her in," Yamamoto said, a hint of resignation in his voice. A slight figure, cloaked, entered the large office. Yamamoto, betraying no hint of recognition, looked at Choujirou Sakakibe and said, simply, "Leave us."

"Yes, sir," Sakakibe said, quickly, saluting and closing the door behind them.

"Your brother will be quite angry, I expect," Yamamoto said, after a minute's silence. "I assured him I would make sure you reached Thyilea safely."

"I did," said Rukia, throwing off the cloak to face him, her violet eyes shimmering with anger. "But if you think I would just stay there like a good little girl, you have greatly underestimated me."

Yamamoto raised an eyebrow, slightly amused by the outburst. He motioned to the chair in front of the desk.

"I'll stand, thank you," she said, frowning.

His expression unchanged, Yamamoto sat back down and looked at her patiently. "It is a pleasure to finally meet you, Lady Kuchiki," he said, simply. "What can I do for you?"

"Let Captain Kurosaki go."

"I'm afraid that is impossible," Yamamoto replied.

"He is innocent," she said.

"I know," said Yamamoto.

"Then why is he set to hang in three day's time?" she demanded, angrily.

"You know the answer to that," he replied. He looked suddenly older. "Don't you…Natyra?"

She blinked.

"You seem surprised," he said.

"How did you know?"

"I am far older than I appear," he said. "And perhaps, wiser, too. I have watched you since you were a child, as I have watched him."

"I can understand why you never told us about our past," she said, "but you kept his heritage a secret from him. You had no right…"

"I had every right," Yamamoto replied, testily. "If the truth of his lineage were to have been discovered, our enemies would have certainly killed him."

"But you didn't know which of us would wield the Talisman," Rukia protested. "Why would anyone else?"

"I didn't know," Yamamoto replied. "But your family history was a mystery to me as well as to our enemies. When Byakuya took you in, I had my suspicions, but I knew you were safe. Kurosaki's family history was no such mystery; my niece descended from the High Priestess. It would not have been difficult for the Clan to find him."

"The Clan?"

"Those of our people who followed a separate path. Ichimaru Gin was one."

"The Druids who fought to claim the Talisman as their own. Those who survived the war to possess it," she said, remembering.

"They are the descendants of the people that killed you when you were called 'Natyra'," Yamamoto explained. "After the wars were over, when there were too few left on either side to justify continuing to fight, our people decided to hide the Talisman."

"And now you will let your own nephew hang for a crime he didn't commit?"

"I cannot release him," Yamamoto said. "I would risk too many lives if I were to use my power in such a manner."

Rukia felt a wave of fury rise within her. "Even if you care nothing for him, what of the Talisman?"

"I will keep the Talisman safe," Yamamoto replied. "I promise you."

Rukia shook her head. "He is willing to sacrifice his life for his people and yet you, who have it in your power to save him, will let him die?"

Yamamoto said nothing.

"I will not lose him again," she said, angrily. "Sit back and do nothing, if your conscience will permit it. I will not rest until I see him safely to Thyilea."

"I am sorry I cannot give you the answer you wish to hear," Yamamoto said.

"Then there is nothing left for you to say. Good-day," she said, taking a deep breath and pulling her cloak over her head once more.

He watched her walk out the door and sighed deeply. A few minutes later, Sasakibe came back into the room.

"Sir?"

"Follow her," Yamamoto said.

"Aye, sir," the gray haired man replied with a quick salute and nod of his head.

The streets of the London suburb were nearly empty when she walked up to the front door of a small, but comfortable house at the end of a cul-de-sac. The rain, if anything, had begun to fall harder, and she was nearly soaked to the skin. She took a deep breath, composing herself, then knocked on the door.

After a minute, a young woman with light brown hair peered out of the door at the tiny, bedraggled figure standing on the landing. "Yes? Can I help you?"

"Are you…?" Rukia began.

"Yuzu," the young woman replied, smiling kindly. "Have we met before?"

"No," Rukia said, returning the smile. "My name is Kuchiki Rukia. I am a good friend of your brother. I've come to speak with your father, if he is around."

"Of course," Yuzu said, "he's in the parlor, reading. Please, come in Miss Kuchiki."

"Call me Rukia, please," Rukia replied.

They walked into the small vestibule, and Yuzu took Rukia's wet cloak. "I'll put this by the stove to dry, Rukia," she said. Then, motioning for Rukia to follow her, she led her into the next room. The room was lined from floor to ceiling with books. The furniture was comfortable and inviting. Sitting on a table near the fireplace was a small portrait of a beautiful woman who Rukia knew must have been Ichigo's mother. There were portraits of children, as well, and Rukia immediately recognized Yuzu and Ichigo among them. The other, a dark-haired girl, Rukia guessed was Ichigo's sister Karin. The 'tomboy' of the family, as Ichigo had once described her.

"Father," said Yuzu, as they walked into the room. "There is someone here to see you."

"Thank you, Yuzu," came a gruff voice from one of the high-backed chairs near the fire. He stood up and walked over to the two women, grinning broadly.

"I am Kuchiki Rukia," said Rukia, smiling at Isshin.

"Kurosaki Isshin," he said, his grin widening more than Rukia thought possible. "Please," he said, gesturing to the other chair by the hearth, "have a seat."

"Can I make you some tea?" Yuzu asked, as Rukia sat down.

"Thank you," Isshin replied, "that would be lovely."

Yuzu walked through the kitchen door, leaving them alone.

"I am glad to finally meet you," Isshin said, studying Rukia with apparent interest. "I'm relieved."

"Relieved?" Rukia thought this a strange comment.

Isshin laughed. "I had begun to wonder if the kid was interested in women at all."

Rukia blinked. Ichigo had told her Isshin was a bit 'unusual', as he had put it, but she had not expected this. 'Eccentric' was the word that immediately came to mind.

"Sir?" Rukia offered, slightly confused.

"Nah, nothing to trouble your pretty little self over," laughed Isshin. "He clearly has better taste that I had thought. Not only did he fall for a woman with class, he found a Druid priestess, to boot."

"How did you…?" she began, startled at his casual reference to the Druids.

Isshin laughed again. "I may have chosen to live amongst humans, Lady Kuchiki," he said, "but I keep my ears open. Now all I need to make my life complete are a few grandchildren. I was thinking at least four or five." Isshin winked.

Rukia blushed to the roots of her hair, but said nothing.

"But you didn't come here to talk to me about grandchildren, did you?" Isshin added with a theatrical sigh, perhaps realizing how uncomfortable he had made her.

"No," she replied, wondering if he, like Yamamoto, realized she was carrying Ichigo's child. "I came here to ask your help, to save Ichigo's life." Isshin raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.

"I've tried to visit him, but Yamamoto wouldn't permit it," she said. "I finally got to speak to the old man myself, but he won't budge. He's determined to let Ichigo hang. I can't allow that to happen."

"Now, that is interesting," said Isshin, thinking aloud. "What possible use can Ichigo be to the Druids if he's dead? No – don't answer that – undoubtedly the old coot believes that Ichigo's sacrifice would be in the best interests of everyone involved. Honor, duty, that sort of drivel, you know."

"Then you'll help me?" Rukia asked.

Isshin shook his head, "I would like to," he answered, "but there is nothing I can do to stop his execution. If Yamamoto can't stop it, nobody can."

"I can't accept that," Rukia said, standing up. "I'm tired of sitting around and doing nothing. Your son wouldn't do that if you or I were in his place. I won't do it, either."

Isshin sighed. "Perhaps there are others who might…" he began.

"No," she answered forcefully, knowing precisely what he meant, "I won't ask it of Shuuhei. He's risked too much already. We will need him as captain of the Vincent. Our people need him."

And even as she spoke these words, she understood what Yamamoto had said to her. She couldn't ask Shuuhei to help, any more than Yamamoto could release Ichigo of his own accord. There was too much at stake in this.

She stood up. "Thank you, Master Isshin," she said, forcing a smile.

"For what?" he asked. She found herself almost immediately reminded of Urahara and wondered if the two men knew each other.

"I think you know," she said, with a sigh.

"What will you do, then?"

"I will find a way," she said. "But I promise you that your son will not die."

"You'll think about the grandchildren, then?"

She laughed, in spite of herself. "I think you already know that you will have at least one."

He grinned, and walked her out to the door. "Be safe, Kuchiki Rukia. I will be here to help, if you need me."

She hurried out onto the street and into the wet night. Neither Isshin nor Rukia noticed the pair of dark eyes that watched from the window of the kitchen.

It was nearly midnight when she reached the house at Piccadilly Circus. It was the last place she wanted to be. Showing up here, when she was supposed to be safely hidden away in Thyilea, would not please Byakuya. She chafed at this thought, reminding herself that she had, for years, captained her own ship and gotten herself out of many more difficult and dangerous situations. Still, the Soul Warrior was in the Caribbean, undergoing massive repairs as a result of the battle with the Gallant. She was here by herself this time, with no crew to assist her, having stowed away in one of her brother's ships.

She took a deep breath, and knocked on the front door. She needed her brother's help, and she would face his wrath, if that was the price to be paid for it.

"Yes?" inquired the maid, who had trudged to the door in her nightcap and nightgown.

She pushed her cloak off her head in response, too tired even to speak.

"Lady Kuchiki!" said the woman, recognizing her immediately despite her sodden appearance. "Come in before you catch your death of cold."

"Thank you," she had murmured, cursing her body for the bone-tiredness in every limb. Pregnancy, she realized, had its drawbacks.

"Is your brother expecting you?" the woman inquired.

"No, Tellie," Rukia replied. "Can you please let him know I am here? It is urgent that I speak to him."

"Of course, ma'am," Tellie replied, pulling off Rukia's wet cloak and replacing it with a small throw-blanket from one of the chairs. "Have a seat by the fire and warm yourself. I'll ask the master to join you and bring you some tea."

"That would be wonderful," Rukia sighed, collapsing into one of the overstuffed chairs by the fireplace.

The maid shuffled off again. Rukia leaned back in the chair and closed her eyes, putting her right hand on her belly.

"Ichigo," she thought. "This child will know her father."

It was easier to be angry with him, she knew, than to admit the truth of her feelings. She felt weak, vulnerable – something she had rarely felt in her life. She had always been strong, independent.

"Damn you for making me love you…again."

She heard footsteps on the marble floor of the entryway and stood up. She turned and saw her brother, standing in the doorway to the sitting room. Byakuya's face was expressionless, unreadable. For a moment, she just stood there, looking at him. And then, compelled by something she herself did not understand, she found herself running to him, laying her head against his chest, tears falling like the rain.

For a moment, Byakuya stood, immovable, his arms awkwardly at his sides. Then, in spite of himself, his arms encircled her, holding her as she cried. They stood there for several minutes, not speaking.

"I…I am sorry, brother," Rukia said, pulling away from him. "I don't know what came over me. I apol…"

"There is no need to apologize," he interrupted, clearly as uncomfortable as she.

"You aren't angry with me?"

"For coming to London?" he asked. "I would have preferred you stay in Thyilea where you would be safe. But I am not angry."

She looked up at him, her face wet. He handed her a handkerchief and she dried her eyes.

"Tellie?" The maid peered around the corner.

"Master Kuchiki?"

"Bring my sister some food and see to it that she has dry clothing," Byakuya said.

"Of course, sir," Tellie replied, smiling and motioning to Rukia to follow her.

"I will be waiting," Byakuya said to Rukia, as she stood up and walked to the door.

"Thank you," Rukia said, managing a smile.

An hour later, Rukia and Byakuya sat at a small table in the parlor. Rukia felt almost human again, her hair properly coiffed and wearing dry clothing more appropriate to the cold London weather. Her brother's surprising reaction to her appearing on his doorstep in the middle of the night had served to raise her hopes. She no longer felt close to tears.

"I am sorry to have behaved like such a child," she began, warming her hands on the hot tea cup.

"You needn't apologize," Byakuya replied. "I am told that women in your…ah…condition…often have difficulty controlling their emotions."

Rukia, who had been sipping her tea, nearly choked at these words. "How…how did you know?"

"Yamamoto informed me," Byakuya replied, "although I myself sensed it when I saw you tonight."

"I am sorr…"

"Do not apologize to me," he said for the third time that night. For a moment, she expected him to berate her for what she had done, but, instead, he surprised her by saying, "I rejoice that the line of the priests will continue."

"You're not angry?"

"On the contrary," he replied, a hint of a smile on his lips. "I am surprised you would expect me to react with anger."

"I…," she stammered, "I just assumed that…"

"Surely you must know by now that, although we live amongst humans and in human society, the social mores and stigmas of the humans are not our own," he said.

"Of course," she replied. "But I thought…given the life you live here…"

"Druids universally celebrate new life. We are not encumbered by the formalities of marriage. When we bind ourselves to one another, we do so without reservation."

For a moment, Rukia said nothing, taking in the impact of his words.

"Should you choose formal marriage with Captain Kurosaki," Byakuya added, "I shall not oppose it. But neither will I request it of you."

"I…thank you, brother," she said, her eyes filling with tears once more.

"But you did not come here to discuss such matters with me, have you?" he asked.

"No," she replied, honestly. "I have come to ask your help."

"My help?"

"We cannot allow Ichigo to sacrifice himself," she said, her face set.

"There is nothing either of us can do now," he said.

"I refuse to accept that," she answered, fiercely. "He saved my life and the lives of countless others. He has kept Thyilea safe. Would you just abandon him, after all he has done for us?"

"I do not wish his death," Byakuya said, evenly. "But if Yamamoto can do nothing…"

"He must not hang," she said, defiantly. "It was not meant to be. I can feel it in my soul. This time was meant to be different."

Byakuya looked at her, clearly curious. "It is true, then," he said. "You have lived before."

"Did you not know this?" she asked.

"No, although I believe Yamamoto suspected it," Byakuya replied. "It was he who encouraged our family to adopt you, when I first suggested it. He convinced old Ginrei to allow it, despite his initial opposition."

"I assumed…" she began, her voice trailing off.

"You assumed, once you learned of your past, that the reason I insisted on your adoption was because of who you had been."

"Yes," she said, slightly sheepishly.

"That is not true," he said, and she could see a flicker of hurt in his eyes. "I chose to adopt you because I wanted to give you a home. Because I desired to make you my sister in name, as well as in spirit."

She smiled. He had never spoken to her like this before, and she again felt her eyes burn with tears. She swallowed hard, picking up her teacup to avoid meeting his eyes.

"I am glad you did," she said, getting a hold of herself once more. "I am happy to call you 'brother'."

He drank his tea and she ate in silence. She was far hungrier than she realized. Finally, he stood up and said, "You must rest. Nothing good will come of it if you fall ill. We can discuss this at length tomorrow."

"Will you help me, Byakuya?" she asked, fighting her exhaustion.

"I will try," he replied, simply.

She awoke to the sounds of birds outside her window. The sun had broken through the gray clouds with the dawn. She stood up and dressed quickly, hoping to see Byakuya before he left for the office. When she got downstairs, however, it was clear that he had already left.

"Breakfast, Miss Rukia?" asked Tellie, brightly.

"Thank you, Tellie," Rukia replied, as her stomach complained loudly for food.

She had just sat down at the table and eaten a piece of bread when Tellie came back into the room. "You have a visitor, miss," said the maid.

"A visitor?"

"She says she must speak with you immediately, Lady Kuchiki."

"Of course, Tellie. Please show her in," Rukia replied.

Rukia stood up and looked over at the doorway to the sunroom. Standing there, her dark hair slightly windblown, stood a young woman Rukia had never seen before. Despite this, Rukia felt as though she knew this woman – the familiar angle of her face, the dark eyes.

"Lady Kuchiki?" the woman said, her voice strong, confident.

"Yes?" Rukia asked, intrigued.

"I am Karin. Kurosaki Karin. I am going to help you save my brother's life."

*Keelhauled: Maritime punishment by dragging under the keel of a ship.