CHAPTER TWO

The cells underneath Salamandastron sat on the sea side of the mountain, in a large cavern sectioned into four large areas by grey granite bricks, with a long corridor running between them. There were several large caverns similar to this one at the bottom of the mountain, each with a different use: larders, wine cellars, storerooms, armoury, and in the one directly below the mess hall, a foundry, the heat from which generated a natural warming system for the entire fortress, filtering up a chimney carved into the stone, finally emerging from the top of the mountain in a column of smoke. It had only been in the last few years, however, that it had been decided to include a permanent prison area in the fortress, by turning the final, bare cavern situated on the most western side of the foundations into a holding area. The four cells were quite large, and the entire area could hold over a hundred creatures.

The height of the cavern also allowed for greater observance of the prisoners. Where there were gaps in the walls for windows, wrought iron bars had been forged into the rock at the top of the cavern down to a good few feet below the floor surface. Around the back of the cells, however, a ledge ran around the entirety of the cave, a good three beasts' height away from the ground, protected from the possibility of escape use by spikes pointing downwards into the cells.

Alongside all these security precautions, two guards were always posted at the doorway, armed with javelins and a rapier buckled to their belts, and their paws not too far away from a small but effective bell that hung from the wall, whose ringing could be heard from the mess hall.

General Bannox Granden pulled the small door that closed the entrance open, and walked briskly inside, nodding curtly to the two guards as they checked the presence that had just emerged, coming to attention and saluting.

'General Granden!'

'Sah!'

Granden brought his footpaws together and returned their salutes, before he relaxed and gave them the order to stand easy. The two guards returned to their natural stance, and Granden walked off along the perimeter ledge to the left, heading for the far left cell.

Stopping above it, Granden looked down at the untidy band of sea rats that had taken up residence in the cell. Of the seven prisoners, two of them were sleeping on the mess of hay provided for a bed, one was licking clean the plates that had once borne the prisoners' food, and the other four were arguing in hushed voices.

'Well, if the captain finds us, youse can be the one to tell 'im we lost his loot!'

'If the captain finds us...? Listen, marshbrain, 'e's prob'ly lyin' at the bottom of the sea right now!'

'Finkle's got a point Kinny – 'oo actually saw the cap'n jump ship afore we did?'

'You know the cap! 'E's escaped worse...'e probably 'ad a boat we never knew about 'anging from the stern.'

'Idiot! 'Ow comes we never saw it, then?'

'Wot difference does it make? 'E'll never find us 'ere anyway, fishbrain!'

'Fishbrain yerself, yer measly...'

'Ahem!'

Granden had had quite enough of the bickering, and made himself known. All five heads of those not sleeping snapped upwards at the hare standing on the ledge above.

'Gentlebeasts,' he announced, although he was not certain how applicable his greeting was. 'I have good news, and I have bad news. Which would you chaps like to hear first?'

None of them answered, so the general continued anyway.

'The good news is that we've found your ship, Red Raider,' he said, rocking on his heels, his eyes skimming the document in his hand. 'The bad news is we found it on a beach. It was burnt to a cinder and abandoned.'

The five rats looked at one another wide eyed. After a couple of seconds of silence, the one called Kinny found his voice.

'There were no survivors?'

'None that we could see. And nobeasts have beached yet, so you're in luck.'

This drew a short whistle of relief from a couple of the prisoners. Granden tucked his report back underneath his arm.

'So, I would like to know a few things...' He had barely finished his sentence when the prisoners began hurling retorts.

'Do wot yer like, rabbit, youse ain't gettin' nuffin out of us!'

'Yeah, do yer worst!'

The noise of their fellow inmates immediately awoke the two that had been sleeping, and one, a fairly big, seasoned pirate, flung a small pebble at the nearest of his companions that was awake.

'Shurrup! I'm tryin' to get a bit of shuteye!'

To Granden's surprise, there was immediate silence. He stared at the big rat, who only had to turn his eyes forward from his lying position to see the hare standing at his elevated position.

'Oh, at last. Listen, 'are, yer couldn' put me in a differen' cell, cud yer? These planks are doin' me 'ead in!'

General Granden immediately understood the balance of power in the cell, and decided to direct his questioning towards this new symbol of authority amongst his prisoners.

'Sorry old bean, the place is packed,' he told him.

'Wotcha talkin' about? The place is empty part from us!'

'Well, I don't know what to tell you,' smirked Granden, before launching into his interrogation. 'What were you attacked by?'

'Wot?'

'Your ship. Red Raider. Who attacked you?'

'Gimme a separate cell and a decent meal an' I'll tell yer.'

Although it was rare, General Granden developing respect for vermin was not totally uncommon. Whilst he never liked them, he always found it refreshing to have a conversation with one that had principles. Granden marched back to the guards at the entrance to the prison cavern and retrieved the keys, ordering one of the guards to accompany him and the other to retrieve a hot plate of food from the mess. Granden walked down the central corridor to the cell, drawing his sword whilst ordering the other six rats to the back whilst he let the big rat out. The rat was then marched to the cell in the far corner of the cavern, where a roughly cut stone table was, with two chairs. He was kept locked in the cell alone until the meal was brought.

Ordering the two guards to keep watch outside the cell, Granden entered and placed the food in front of the rat, who started eating with the ferocity of one his own troops after a fortnight's march on half rations.

'So,' Granden started again, 'who attacked your ship?'

'Dunno,' said the rat. Granden grabbed the plate of food from under the rat's face and started heading for the door. 'Wait! Wait!'

Granden turned back to face the sea rat, still holding the plate in his hand, his eyebrows arched upwards awaiting a response. The sea rat sighed.

'Look, we'd never seen the ship before. It was at least three times as big as anythin' we'd ever battled against before,' he explained, before describing it. 'It had white sails, so we didn't fink it would be too 'ard a job to board it when we first saw it comin' over the horizon. Then, it got closer, and we realised that it mean' business. We tried to out sail it, but it was faster than us. Simple as that. Dunno how it did, considerin' it didn't have an oar bank.'

Granden retook his seat at the table, and handed the rat back his plate of food, and he continued to devour the rest of it.

'Did you?'

'Did we wot?'

'Have an oar bank?'

''Course. We was pushin' the slaves double time as well. We even 'ad crew fillin' in for the empty benches.'

Granden chose to ignore the fact that Red Raider was a slave ship – the burnt out slave pit in the hull had been mentioned in the report drawn up by the commander of the Salamander Guards. Despite this, no slaves had been found on board, but the general had other questions to ask first.

'What's your name?' he asked.

'Warbit,' the rat replied, finishing off the remains of his potato-based dinner.

'Right, Warbit, tell me...how did you manage to turn your ship around and even attempt to outrun this mystery ship?'

'Oh, we didn't 'ave to turn 'round,' Warbit replied with a belch. 'It weren't coming straight for us. We was 'eaded for the Western Shore from the northwest, and they was comin' up from the southwest. Once they got within a couple hundred yards, they flew up their colours.'

'Skull and crossbones?'

'Nah...you gotta listen. Weren't black. It was blue, and had these lines along the left and top, that met in the top left corner. The thick centre one was red, then white, then a darker blue. It was like nuffin' I've ever sin before. Nobody goes to that much trouble designing an ensign.' Warbit tapped the table with his finger matter-of-factly, then folded his arms, waiting for Granden's next question.

'Then what happened?'

'Then it opened fire.'

'With what?'

'Dunno.'

The general's patience was wearing thin. He sat up straight, composing himself, which sent a clear message to his prisoner about the state of his mood.

'Look,' said Warbit, leaning forward, 'it opened up several windows on its hull. We thought it was gonna drop oars, but instead these weird black things emerged, pointing righ' at us. Then, we 'eard this sound, like somebody shouting an order, and these black things just...well, I dunno. Like...sorta...fire. But it wasn't though. As soon as it did...the thing...we felt something hit the ship, like a high wave, but, several of 'em. It was weird.'

'Had you hoisted your own colours?'

''Course. Cap'n Dartag was an 'onourable pirate.'

Granden snorted with laughter. 'Well, that didn't sound right at all. An honourable pirate, indeed,' he muttered. 'Anyway, when did you and your lackeys make your escape?'

Warbit continued. 'Well, the ship drew nearer, keepin' itself steady, until it got within a few yards off our starboard. Then, these creatures appeared, decked out in fancy clothin' – like a...like a uniform, like you 'ares. It was like a red shirt, with a white sash, and they was 'olding these weird, black weapons, which they aimed at us. Afore we could swing across to board, these black weapons did the weird thing – like those other things that they 'ad – and managed to kill a whole load o' the crew. Once they'd done that a few times, they lowered the gangways.'

Granden was so intrigued by Warbit's story that he hardly noticed how wide eyed his expression was, or how much attention he was paying to the sea rat's broken dialect, or even that his mouth was agape.

'That's when me and the rest of 'em back there decided to make a break for it. We lowered the port side longboat and made a dash for it to the coast. That's when we bumped into your lot.'

Granden rearranged his body's position, pulling his back straight again and resting his locked paws on the table. Now that he had got the story out of the way, he wanted to clear up some of the finer details.

'The creatures on the opposing ship. What were they?'

'Otters mostly. Thought I saw a couple of stoats though. And there was another otter standin' to the stern, wearin' a blue shirt instead of a red 'un. 'E was the one givin' the orders, prob'ly the cap'n.'

'Stoats? With otters?'

'Aye, that's wot I said.'

Granden took a moment to imagine that unlikely scenario, and then his eyes darted back to Warbit. 'What was the ship like? Describe it to me in more detail.'

'Wot can I tell yer? Erm, well, whoever owned it took care of it. The wood had been varnished to give it a brigh'er look, and had painted black strakes running along its sides, and all manner of designs at the bow and stern. 'Ad a figurehead too – it was a wooden carvin' of a badger. As for the sails, well, it 'ad three masts, all square rigged, and the aft mast had a gaff-rigged sail over its stern. Then, on its bow, it had four jib sails. I've seen fully rigged ships before, but none of 'em were that big.'

'You didn't catch the name plate?'

'Intrepid.'

General Granden returned from the cells with a weight on his mind, along with his report, now with some additional information scribbled on the back of it. Warbit had obligingly drawn Granden a rough sketch of the ship, in all its full-rigged glory, even including a poor representation of a badger on its stem and the nameplate with the word "Intrepid" crudely printed on it. Atop the mast amidships was a crow's nest with a square flag rigged to it, providing Granden with an illustration of the flag Warbit had attempted to explain earlier.

Granden didn't know what unnerved him most about the ship. Its mysterious origins, the strange fire-like objects pitifully described to him, or the fact that it was crewed by otters and stoats working alongside.