With a grunt, Redivan threw down the twisted piece of metal he'd been substituting for a shovel and surveyed his handiwork. Then he scooped the dirt loosely back into the hole and disappeared into the shadows.
Rularur was curled into a ball, tail over his nose, snoring softly. He was roughly shaken awake by a lanky red squirrel. Redivan Rumfur glared at the otter out of his one good eye.
"Come on, we need to move!" The otter unfurled himself gingerly, broken ribs from the previous night's beating sending lances of pain through his torso. He gazed blearily up at squirrel, trying to focus. The squirrel grabbed Rularur's face, looking him square in the eye. "Lissen, all right? We're getting out of here tonight. The hole's done, we can get out! I'm going to get the others, you head to the east wall now, all right? Are you listening?"
The otter nodded dumbly and staggered to his feet. Holding his sides, he slunk out of the door and around the side of the ramshackle shed. Redivan watched him go, then ran through the plan again mentally. He'd spent the last week digging a tunnel under the walls of the slave compound. He wished he could have had moles to help, but any that could dig were kept in a specially made stone compound, and any that couldn't had had their claws blunted down. Now he was going to distract the sentries, while the slaves—any that could be taken—were slipping out the back. Nodding to himself, he left the shed and made his way silently to the next slave dwelling, rousting the slaves and instructing them to make their way to the hole.
The husky male squirrel peered up at the ramparts, scanning for guards. There…no, there was one. Cupping his paws around his mouth, he shouted, "Guard!" The weasel sentry peered down at him, moonlight glinting off his helmet. Redivan continued. "I need to speak with you!" The narrow face watched him for a moment more, then nodded and disappeared. A few moments more and a ladder slid down over the edge and the weasel swiftly descended. The ladders were a safety measure—they were the only way to reach the ramparts, which protected the guards should the slaves try to rebel. In addition, the only way the small but heavy main door could be opened was through a mechanism on the ramparts.
"What is it?" asked the guard. Redivan beckoned him closer, then whispered, "The slaves are attempting a breakout on the west wall tonight." The guard looked at him, then asked, "Why are you telling me this?"
"Ah, sir, it's a clumsy plan and I tried to warn 'em against it, but they wouldn't listen. I knew if I said nothing I'd be flogged with the rest."
"Saving your own hide, eh?" said the sentry. "Well, thank you muchly. You'll get a reward out of this night." He clambered back up the ladder, withdrawing it behind him, and disappeared towards the west wall.
Redivan waited until he was out of sight, then dashed back to the eastern side. The ragged group of slaves was waiting there for him, tucked away in the shadows. There weren't as many as he had hoped; some, like the moles, couldn't be freed. Others refused to come out of fear. He motioned for them to be quiet, listening. They stayed that way for more than a few minutes, until the compound alarm sounded. Then he turned to the concealed hole and began digging furiously.
"Here's the way out, come help me dig. The sentries are occupied with the west wall, that's where they think the breakout is occurring."
He was most of the way into the hole, Rularur digging furiously by his side, when he heard the commotion behind him. Before he could turn around, he was seized by his furry tail and jerked unceremoniously from the tunnel. Falling on the hard earth, he tried to leap to his feet but was knocked over again.
"West wall, huh? Just how stupid do you think we are?" sneered the ferret standing over him, sword tip at his throat. From the corner of his good eye, he saw a stoat pummel Rularur in the stomach, forcing the otter to his knees. The rest of the slaves were being herded away by the remaining guards.
"For your efforts tonight, slave, your friends here will get the flogging of their lives," said the ferret. "As for you two, well…I think you'll get the flogging of the end of your life. Right where everyone can watch. Mebbe it'll drill a lesson into your stupid slave skulls." Hauling Redivan to his feet, the ferret marched him to the rampart ladder, forcing him upwards. He could hear the same being done to Rularur below. Anger boiled in him, starting in his gut, working its way up till he was seeing through a red haze. He'd be damned if they were going to kill him as an example. At the top of the ladder, the ferret held him at sword point until Rularur dragged himself painfully over the edge. "We'll keep you two lads nice and tight over here. Garvet, bring ropes," ordered the ferret. He and his stoat companion forced the two over to the parapet, preparing to bind them till morning.
Redivan gazed out at the treetops under the rising moon. He turned slightly to Rularur, who gave him a battered smile. Making up his mind suddenly, he whirled around and lunged at the ferret, who jumped backwards, startled. The stoat hesitated a moment before raising his sword, but a moment was all that was needed. Grabbing Rularur's rough paw in his own, Redivan took two steps to the edge and vaulted the parapet.
A few moments later, there was a slight thump.
The ferret and stoat raced to the edge, peering into the darkness. "Well, shit," said the stoat. "Now what?"