A cart was being pulled by six rats. This cart use to be something fit for royalty, but now it's rich red curtains were torn, the deeply polished wood was scratched up, and it's decorative carvings were chipped. However, this cart still housed royalty.
Jones Pullmus Culliver was his name. He was a young stoat. However, some believed he was actually a weasel, due to his size. Jones was actually only half the size of a full grown weasel. Very short and small boned. That coupled with his expensive looking emerald green and gold trimmed surcoat, he looked like a harmless dandelion. He looked nothing like the leader of the five-hundred hoard army, but he was.
At the moment, Lord Culliver was playing chess with his red fox seer, Jazben. The fox wore a grey hooded robe, a contrast compared to Jones's fancy dresswear.
"Check," the Lord said as he moved his knight piece in line with Jazben's king.
The fox hummed in frustration as he moved his king out of the knight's reach.
Sure enough, Culliver moved his bishop chess piece in line with the opponent's king.
"Check."
"Hmm." Jazban narrowed his eyes. It seemed like there was no more openings for his king to move. Everywhere he looked, he would be in check.
Suddenly, the cart jerked harshly and stopped, scattering chess pieces all over the floor.
The stoat stared at the ruined game, then said calmly, "oh bother, I was about to win."
There was an expected knock at the door. "Lord Culliver, 'tis I, Falhon."
"You may enter."
The door opened, revealing a huge, muscular ferret. He was heavily armored, topped with a helmet that had a spike at the top. He wore a red cape to show his status as head general.
"My Lord," he kneeled down. "There is a mutiny. I think they forgot who holds the authority. You must remind them, sir."
The stoat Lord sighed and walked out of his royal carriage. The six rats who towed it looked frantic when he walked by.
"I'm terribly sorry Lord," one of the rats piped up. "But it wasn't my fault! Look, the whole army has come to a stop."
"Silence!" Culliver shouted, and all six rats clamped their jaws shut. "What is the meaning of this halt?"
The army was made up of five hundred vermin. Most of them were rat spear soldiers, however there was good amount of weasel archers, skilled stoat swordsmen, and a few ferret captains.
They were normally organized in neat ranks of ten by ten, but now they were a mess of a cowed. Most of them looked scared and nervous, for they knew not to disobey their Lord. However, one could see that the cause of this mess was a small group of insubordinate rats.
One particularly huge brown rat stepped forth from the group and spoke up.
"The meaning of this halt? Well, Jones, me and my comrades have had enough of your nonsense. The hoard would benefit much better from my rule."
The brown rat's partners in crime chanted, "Garbul! Garbul! Garbul the Ripper!"
Jones held up a paw to silence Garbul's supporters, but to no avail. It was Garbul's raised paw that silenced them. Despite Jones being irked at the disloyalty, he spoke calmly.
"Sirrah Garbul, what is the meaning of this mutiny?"
"I'll tell you the meaning, Jones. We've been marching northward for two full seasons, just because your father was weak and you are a coward. We're tired of walking, marching forward with no destination in sight! Tell me, is that seer of yours blind? Jazban says he sees a castle full of riches for plundering, slaves for working, and enough food to feed an army thrice this size five times over. Yet, we march onward and see nothing but a clear, empty horizon!"
Lord Jones was pushed past his breaking point from the clear lack of disrespect and the lies about their situation this rat was telling. He bared his teeth and pointed a claw at the rat.
"Sirrah Garbul," Jones practically growled. "I have had it! You slander my family name. My father was not weak and I am no coward. Sirrah Garbul, you are sentenced to
death for spewing this rubbish from your lips and causing mutiny amongst the ranks. And I, Lord Jones Pullmus Culliver, will personally execute you in a duel."
"Bah! Enough of your blabbing," Garbul got in a battle ready stance, his spear pointed at Jones.
Lord Culliver held out his arms so that General Falhon could remove his decorative surcoat, revealing him to be wearing a chain mail vest. An assortment of small throwing daggers were at his belt. For the final touch, Falhon strapped two short swords at Jones's back.
Finally, Falhon held out a cloth and announced. "Lord Culliver seeks to execute Sirrah Garbul in a duel as punishment for his crimes. Sirrah Garbul challenges Lord Culliver for his title. At the drop of the cloth, the duel begins."
Both the Lord and insubordinate rat stood at the ready, both staring at each other with the flame of battle in their eyes.
When the cloth hit the grass, Garbul charged Jones with his spear. However, the stoat didn't move until his opponent's weapon was inches away from, then he leaped to the side.
Garbul was expecting this, so he swung his spear around to try to nick the stoat with the blade. With a flash of sparks, Jones intercepted the spear point by crossing his sword in an X.
When the rat withdrew his spear to try to thrust it towards the stoat, Culliver as quickly as lightning sheathed one of his swords and threw a dagger at Garbul's knee. Blood trickled down the rat's fur as he winced at the sharp pain.
Jones sheathed his second swords and stood with his arms crossed. He yawned. "Sirrah Garbul, you are boring me so. Please do make another move so I could end this."
Garbul gritted his teeth in anger and frustration. He jabbed his spear at Culliver's heart, but the nimble stoat hopped on top the blade with one foot. The he leaped into the air off the blade and unsheathed both his swords. On his fall down, he twisted in the air, slicing his swords right through the rat's throat. Jones landed gracefully on the ground.
Garbul looked Jones in the eye as he bled out. He tried to say something, but it came out as a strangled gurgling sound. Slowly, the rat fell to the ground as life drained out of him.
The other insubordinate rat shook in fear as they saw their leader slump over, dead.
"Kill the other criminals!" Lord Culliver ordered. Without hesitation, the Lord's obedient soldiers were on top of Garbul's followers, quickly putting and end to them.
The stoat lord climbed on top of his carriage. "Listen to me and listen to me well, my army. My father was no coward. His keep was under siege by an army from the fortress of Shudderstone! He fought to his last breath trying to defend House Culliver. I had no choice but to run. I am his only hair, the only one left to carry out our royal bloodline. What was I supposed to do? Try to take back my home from an army of thousands with only five-hundred soldiers? You all would have been slaughtered. I saved your lives, you should be grateful."
There was an uncomfortable silence amongst the troops. Some of the soldiers shuffled nervously, armor clanking a bit.
"I hope this clears up any misunderstandings," Lord Culliver continued. "General Falhon, please gather up the captains and get my army organized once more."
The stoat leaped down from the carriage, where Jazban was standing there waiting.
"My Lord, please come hither," the fox said. He led Lord Culliver over to Garbul's dead body. The grass was soaked in blood. "Look."
"Jazban, dear, tell me what I am supposed to be looking at," Culliver said. "I am not playing a guessing game with you today."
The fox pointed at the bloody grass. Lord Culliver looked closer. There was a chess piece, a rook, covered in blood.
"Ah, I see," the Lord said. "An omen. Does the rook represent House Culliver and is the blood that of my enemies?"
Jazban chuckled. "I believe it is meant to be a more literal omen, my Lord. The red stoned castle I see in my dreams, we are getting closer and closer. This is a sign."
"Ah," Lord Culliver clasped Jazban's paw. "Then we continue forward, my friend. Come, help me clean up after this fight then we shall talk more of this."
As the two walked back to the carriage, Lord Culliver shot one more glance towards the blood stained, castle-like chess piece.