“Ren-san,” Kagome greeted warmly in relief, while Kohaku’s whole demeanor chilled.

“What a vision you are to behold,” the captain said to her. “My memory of your loveliness has been a poor substitute.” His light eyes flicked casually over the taijiya standing so frigidly beside her. “…Might this fierce young man be your little brother?”

If possible, Kohaku’s attitude turned frostier still. “No,” he answered for her, glaring. “I am the commander of the militia here, vagrant, and you’ve trespassed far enough.” With a faint metallic click, he leveled his katana at Ren. “You are not welcome in this place. Take your rabble band and go back the way you came, and there’ll be no more trouble between us.”

As the rest of the militiamen followed suit, Ren’s lip curled faintly. Eyes flashing, Kagome whirled.

“Kohaku—” she began, but before she could breathe another word of admonishment, the wild dog leapt past her, snarling.

Two-thirds or more Kagome’s weight in dense coiled muscle, he occupied the length of the space between her and Ren. Each grizzled fur bristled on end as he speared his dark claws into the hardpan, spring-loaded in readiness to lunge. There wasn’t a fang left uncovered as the dog’s muzzle furrowed in a dark splintering chasm of wrinkles, his golden eyes narrowed and scintillating with hostility. Kagome had thought he’d looked ferocious during her first encounter with him in the woods, but that had been many square meals ago. Now when he snapped and growled, she felt the full force of the threat behind it.

So, too, did Ren’s horse. With a frightened whinny, it shied and began to rear, and Kagome’s fists clenched in exasperation.

“Cut it out,” she said sternly. “Both of you.”

As Kohaku frowned toward her, the dog hid its fangs in an approximation of the same. Still fighting to bring his panicked horse back under control, Ren wrenched sharply at the reins. A dark scowl twisted his features briefly before they smoothed, slipping back into their usual expression of cool conceit. Forcibly, the animal beneath him calmed. Sheathing his sword, the rounin swung down from the saddle. Kohaku’s stance relaxed a fraction at this, and the dog slunk back warily behind Kagome’s heels. With a light smack to his horse’s withers, Ren sauntered over, smirking.

“My apologies…Kohaku-kun, was it?” he asked, giving the taijiya another smug once-over. “I am the wretch known formerly as Mizuno Rennosuke, and these that you see behind me are my fellow castoff curs. With such number and motley that we are, I should have made our haste in coming here clear from the start.” Furtively, his gaze slid back to Kagome. “Last time we met, Miko-sama, you spoke of a problem which was plaguing you—a problem which over the intervening weeks, my men and I have labored to correct on your behalf…”

Raising his partially gauntleted hand, the rounin hooked his fingers in a curt wave to the band of riders behind him. The pack of horses bearing only armed men parted, to reveal a few more who were hauling what appeared to be large vegetable carts behind them. As the first covered cart was detached and dragged over, sluggish streams of rusty brown liquid pitted the dust below it. Beneath Kagome’s paling skin, her blood seemed to flow just as sluggishly.

As his men wheeled the cart around to face her, Ren’s lupine smile broadened. “…Several of these we left spiked along the way, as a ward of sorts. But before wagging tongues could twist their import, I wished to present the rest of them to you as proof, Kagome-sama, of our fealty and goodwill toward you.”

Beneath the cords that lashed it, the rough hemp cloth covering the top of the cart was lumpy and strained. Similar spots of rust marred the fabric’s pale surface, the blots haloing lighter at the fringes. A pair of Ren’s burly men unlatched the cart door, and what tumbled out of it looked at first to Kagome’s staring eyes like a heap of busted melons.

But melons didn’t clang with dented helmets gouging through them, or bear yellowed teeth and mats of greasy black hair—

Or roll to stare back at her with wide, glassy eyes of their own.

Inuyasha © Rumiko Takahashi