Here's another story that popped into my mind at a random moment. Perhaps I have too much time on my hands? Anyways, thanks for checking it out and I hope you enjoy. :)
Disclaimer: All characters are owned by me.
The Condemned
"EULALIAAAAAAAAAAA!" the fierce battle cry rang throughout the battle scene. It was the cue that brought the onslaught of vermin spilling out of the ships to meet with the opposing side of perilous hares.
They seemed to be in even numbers, that sea of horribly ragged fur and the wave of uniforms. And parting those thrashing waters of fur and metal, Lord Urthbrawn thundered through, bashing and hacking his mace this way and that at his foes. They wilted at his gaze, keeping a wide berth only to be cut down as they were distracted or paralyzed with fear. And all the while, Captain Gorrail kept his horde charging forward, smashing against the forces of hares.
Steel against steel. Shield against sword. Tooth against Claw. Evil against good.
The powerful agents clashed against one another with equal ferocity, neither one of them showing signs of giving up. And besides the pounding of wardrums and the cacophony of death after death and agony after agony, the roars of the great badger could be heard.
It really was a terrific battle, but such energy could only go on for so long. The sun soon drowned behind the crashing ocean, bleeding red into the sky. And by that time, Victory had already decided on her favorites.
Cutting a slough through the creatures, Lord Urthbrawn made a beeline to Captain Gorrail, keeping his gaze fixed solely on that creature while he thrashed at the mindless enemies about him. The searat saw this coming and he rushed down to meet him, cutlasses drizzling blood. To them, there was nothing but the annoying buzz of war, the intoxicating stench of blood, and the symbol of hate standing right in front of their noses.
They raised their weapons, lips drawn back in a snarl. And then they met. And clashed. And there was no stopping them as they circled on another, paws keeping hilts at a deathgrip. And then they sprang at each other again, both minds thinking alike. They hacked and slashed, parrying blows and dodging them. For the rat, the badger was a bigger target, but hard to break through his defense. For the badger, the rat was small and quick, but his back could break so easily.
And it was at that time that the searat saw his slim little window of opportunity. Throwing his arms back, he barreled towards his enemy, smirking as the badger brought his shield up, bracing himself for a barrage. With no hesitation, the corsair dove down, sliding between the badger's legs, and once behind him, he pivoted his footpaws and sprang forward. It almost felt like one single motion, slashing at his adversary's legs. Gorrail could just feel it, his own blades digging into the flesh and rending muscle. It was a delicious feeling.
Urthbrawn roared in pain, staggering to the side before he recovered his balance and sense. He narrowed his blood-shot eyes, watching as his own vision went crimson with the Bloodwrath. He gave another roar, though this time it was more of sheer rage rather than pain. The searat shook a little- of fear or excitement, the badger couldn't discern. But he knew what was coming anyways and the hulking giant charged up at his challenger.
He slammed his mace down on the ground, feeling the impact of the blow shudder up his arm. The rat had dodged and was beside it now and Urthbrawn saw his chance. His muscles writhing under his skin, he brought a backpawed swipe with his weapon. It was a blur to him, but he heard the captain give a cry of pain and duck back, clutching at his shattered and bloody paw.
He'd missed, but not completely. The badger gave him no chance to fully understand his wounds before he raised a fist over his head, striking down once more on the sand. But Gorrail wasn't too distracted and he'd managed to leap to the side, bending over to grip his fallen cutlass. And with a growl ripping from his throat, he surged forward.
Still on all fours, the badger's eyes widened as he struggled to stand upright again. But then a searing sensation burst in his mind as his gashed leg gave in under the stress. He didn't get to say anything before he felt something nip at his throat. He gasped, suddenly feeling some hot and sticky liquid obstruct his breathing.
No... That was what he wanted to say as he felt himself thud to the ground. Impossible...
And as he lay there clutching at his neck, his throat bubbling as he breathed, he looked up to see his opponent standing above him. Slowly, the searat seemed to move, as if reveling in his enemy's suffering. His left arm hung limply as his other paw raised his cutlass into the air. At last, the badger felt one last bit of energy consume him as he brought his paw up, shooting forward, his claws seeking bones to crush.
But the captain saw this coming and whipped out of his way. And Lord Urthbrawn, ruler and guardian of the great Mountain Salamandastron and its Long Patrol hares, saw the flashing silver of blades as they lunged towards-
---
But that was the only victory for Captain Gorrail that day, as the hares redoubled their efforts, pushing their enemies back with fiery force. They would not let their lord's efforts go to waste! They knew him, they fought under him, and they would not allow any form of shame to come to his name.
"EULALIAAAAAAAAAAA!"
While the vermin would've fled or surrendered at the loss of their leader, the opposite was true for the hares. They seemed to grow bolder and more ruthless, cutting down every rat, every fox, every stoat, weasel, and ferret in their path.
"EULALIAAAAAAAAAA!"
They had surrounded their enemies now, their numbers creeping forward and drawing a close to their escape. The vermin shrank back. They were once emboldened by the fall of the badger, but not anymore. They quailed before their enemies, the hares with eyes void of anything but murder. They shrank back, looking uncertainly at their captain, but they knew what was coming.
They were outmaneuvered, outnumbered, and outmatched. There was only one option left for them.
In a tidal wave of panic, the vermin made a mad dash for their ships, ignoring any trampled comrades and forgetting their loot for a moment. Their more righteous counterparts quickly took pursuit, charging at the beasts that murdered their friends and family.
"FOR URTHBRAAAAAAAAAAAAWN!"
The ships that were once abandoned and empty were suddenly filled to the brim with vermin and the ropes tethering them were slashed. Whips cracked down on the unfortunate galley slaves, and the sails were immediately raised.
Arrows were fired after the ships, many of them harmlessly embedding themselves in the creaking, moldy wood. But not everybeast was able to escape. Some flaming arrows made a beautiful arc of death, burying itself in its quarry, its tongues of fire licking and consuming as the entire thing burned down- vermin, slaves, and all. And then the slower hordebeasts were abandoned on land, quickly meeting their fate with an onslaught of javelins. And some other ships had been brought too close to shore, the bottoms dragging against the bed of sand as the trapped vermin stood waist-deep in the salty waters.
Those beasts were quickly rounded up as the hares entered the hulls, hearing the joyous cries of the miserable enslaved creatures. There were chains being snapped and manacles being unclasped, but at the same time, there were wrists being cruelly bound and lines of prisoners being marched. That day was both a bright one, and a bleak one.
---
The vermin were all huddled together in a crowded mass, cringing back each time any of the hares came prodding over.
"Don't take me, take 'im! Take him!" they would say, and it all made their captors sick to their stomachs, seeing the blatant display of cowardice before them. The corporals and lieutenants surveyed the scene with tired but angry eyes, labeling each one of those prisoners with deaths of loved ones.
"Colonel Vervain, what do we do with them now?" That was a common question the aged hare had to hear.
"Get a fire going," was all he could say. "A big, big fire."
"Colonel!"
He turned around at the hare that called to him.
"What is it Liutenant-" He stopped, noticing the little creature he held by its scruff.
"We were just going through the rest of the ship and looking for any other slaves when we found her locked in a tiny little closet," the hare explained, nodding at the struggling fox cub. She was young- very young. About four seasons old.
"Lemme go! Get yer filthy paws off'a me y'frog scum!" she snarled in that high squeaky voice of hers. Then she spewed a breathful of obscenities that made them tsk at her.
"Imagine that," Lieutenant Pewter sighed, gripping her tighter with a gloved paw.
"'ey! That 'urts, ye bunch of flop-eared dung-brained wave-addled stupid-"
"What kind of parents would ever bring a cub as young as her onto a slaveship?" the lieutenant continued, raising her higher so that her feet were high above the ground.
"Vermin parents," a bystander said, disgust plastered all over his face as he looked the cub over. Although hares were known to fawn over children, this one was an exception. She looked nothing like the adorable little scraps of fur. All she had in common with those innocent creatures were the bright eyes that blazed with vitality, and that was it. With her frown, her savage pearly teeth, and her tattered clothes, she was a miniature version of her vermin parents and no more.
"Don't hold it too close to you," one of them said. "It might have fleas or lice or some disease."
"Shut yer gob!" she snarled back, unconsciously scratching around her ears at the mention of those parasites.
"That's enough," the colonel said solemnly before he started coughing into a lacey handkerchief. He cleared his throat, continuing. "Now see here. Normally we would give attacking vermin the capital punishment they deserve. And for regular vermin that have done us no harm, we imprison them to teach them a good lesson. And for young vermin offspring..." He trailed off at that, the question tumbling in his mind as he watched the firewood being piled up farther away.
Lieutenant Pewter coughed into his fists, his way of easing into a statement. "Erm... sah, beggin your pardon, but this is just a child. Surely she's been raised on the wrong path, but she's so young. Perhaps there's still a good chance that she can make a turn-around with her life and wotnot?"
"You mean 'raise her?'" Major Thornsbry's monocle popped out of place, swinging on its chain like a pendulum. He quickly replaced it, as if it could hide the fact that his eyes were red and puffy from tears. Pewter, on the other paw, had already dried his tears and gotten some of the clean-up taken care of. He sighed inwardly, his way of respecting the dead in this serious predicament. There was not much he could do for the his dead comrades now, but perhaps he could save an innocent life? A vermin life, but an innocent life nonetheless. But still, what would his late friends say of his stand in this matter?
"Herrumph!" the colonel coughed into his handkerchief again. "Need I remind you, Lieutenant Pewter... that this is a vermin child. Vermin."
"But sah..." he paused, looking down at her. She was growling softly now, and though nobeast could hear it, he could still feel the vibrations in his paw. "Just a child. Why, we would be no better than those scoundrels if we simply do away with her."
"Oh please," Thornsbry scoffed. "Just look at the little savage. Raise her up, and how will she repay us? With a stomach full of knives!"
"And a throat full'a poison!" the cub added.
"Be quiet, you ruffian!" And then Pewter gave her a sound cuff between the ears.
"Try that again, long-ears 'n' I'll rip ya a new one!"
"See?" the opposing hare crowed. "Just like a vermin! Bites the very paw that feeds 'er!"
The younger hare gave an exasperated sigh, busying himself with trying to rub out a blood stain while he mulled things over. Everybeast did say that he had a soft spot for leverets and Dibbuns and the sort. Perhaps he was being too hopeful with this one? There was no denying there was vermin blood in her and for what he could see, she certainly did have a vermin heart.
"Perhaps you're right," he sighed, looking at the broken faces of their other captives. "Perhaps we'll just be saving us the trouble if we get rid of her right now. But- but maybe we can simply send her to Redwall? Or perhaps simply let her go?" He looked at the colonel, hopeful for a response, but before he could say anything, that pushy major just had to snort.
"Send her to Redwall? You do remember the story of Veil Sixclaw, do you? Young'uns these days! 'No good use in history?' Hmph! My word! And to simply release her? And let her wreak havoc on simple woodlanders?"
"So you want to kill her," the young lieutenant breathed stonily. It was no question. It was a statement; and Thornsbry was silent at that.
"End her life then?" Pewter continued. "Fine then. End it. But if you must be so quick to condemn, Major..." he raised his arm, practically shoving the cub at his face so that they were practically nose-to-nose. "Then you must be quick to kill with your own two paws." The hare stepped back, clamping a paw over his nose as he tried to drive her terrible stench out of his system. It took a while for him to sputter a response.
"Young Pewter!" the shout was muffled behind the paw. "Young Pewter, I'm shocked at your appalling behavior, wot! Mind your higher-ups, you young leveret!" And then his voice softened a little. "I understand that you're young. You're naive, Pewter, and you have a winning heart and that is something you should be proud of. But you mustn't let your heart rule your head. You'll learn this some day when you rise through the ranks."
"No." The response was stiff. "I don't think I will. As I said before, are you willing to have her life on your paws?" The older hare looked at her, narrowing his eyes.
"Take her and tie her with the others."
"With the others... but-" The lieutenant turned to the colonel, who had been silent throughout this entire argument. "Colonel... sah... this simply isn't right."
"And perhaps it is, Lieutenant?" the colonel asked gently, still surveying the growing pile of wood. Everybeast knew what that meant.
Pewter looked down at the grubby little cub, ready to relinquish her to more condemning paws. He had to admit that he'd already done a lot for her sake, and perhaps her verminous tongue was her own undoing. So why did he feel like it was her death was on his paws? He'd cut short many other lives, and many other paws had cut down the lives of his friends. In his mind's eye, he tried to mask her childish features with the snarling, mangy faces of the very creatures he hated.
"If you must, sah..." He nodded, as if to comfort himself as one of the bystanders ripped her away from him and tethered her tiny little paws behind her back.
"Bite me! I have fleas!" she spat. But he could still hear her voice wavering behind that mask of hate. And then he watched her get hauled off to be with her kind, still cursing and kicking and all. He felt his heart crumple with defeat as he stared after her. He felt his stomach lurch and twist itself in a knot. She was plopped up between an apathetic stoat and a bawling ferret, both creatures seeming to tower over her. He couldn't see her face, but he imagined that she was terrified out of her wits.
Of course, who wouldn't be? As daft as vermin are, even the stupidest of them knew what that surrounding ring of bonfire meant.
A/N: So what'cha think? I have made the hares a bit more solemn and dark in this fic, I know. Please review and tell me your honest opinion. ;)
