Chapter Nine
The Race
Commander Flashentie wiped the misty rain off his face. A quick glance at the rolling grey clouds overhead indicated this shower would not abate until late afternoon or evening. He tried cinching his foul weather coat tighter, but the wetness soaked him to the skin. Such discomfort soured his mood. In spite of this, he still greeted each sentry by name before moving on to the next beast on watch.
At last he turned to the weasel who had dogged his heels since he started his inspection. "Well, lieutenant Dabhiran, you did a fine job keeping our captives under control. Anything you want to report before I grab a quick meal?"
"Our scouts spent the night laying down a false trail that should take anyone following us further west. They also reported our actual trail remains well hidden. An expert tracker would have a difficult time finding us. Thanks to this constant drizzle, even our scent will vanish within an hour."
"Did I make a mistake promoting you? Tell me you're not that arrogant. These rains have been far too light. Anyone with a sharp nose should detect something. And if you have forgotten the obvious, these prisoners are going to leave a powerful scent trail regardless of this weather since they are doing nothing to hide it. It all comes down to who is better, the beast tracking us or our efforts at masking so many smells."
The weasel came to a halt when he heard the note of disapproval. The fellow outlined the precautions he took covering their retreat while insuring no prisoner escaped. Each time the officer mentioned something, he grunted. In spite of his overconfident attitude, Flashentie admitted his new second covered every possible contingency. When he spied the cook handing out rations, he tried leaving, but the lieutenant had one more thing to report.
"I assigned a scout to watch the area where our real and false trails diverged. If somebody sees through our deception, we'll have plenty of warning. I told the scout he should remain at his post until mid afternoon. Traveling alone, he'll be at the beach by nightfall with time to spare."
While the two vermin conversed, Firecrown continued to slink around the bodies of the exhausted slaves. Whenever the fox came to a standstill, he drew close. If the rattling of his shackles attracted the attention of any raider, he fell flat on the ground mimicking a restless sleep. Once the fox and his weasel escort walked beyond his hearing, he made for his two companions.
Near the center of the herded captives, Firecrown approached several creatures that acted as if they still slept. His friends reconstructed each conversation overheard from the raiders during the previous day and night of travel. They reexamined each detail, and rejected those considered exaggerations, while Kurella wrote everything else.
Kurella read her notes; a deep frown etched into her features. "Fine, we have a lot of useful information, but what do we do with it? No sense trying to hide this much paper. Unlike the vermin in our Recorder's tales; these are diligent about clearing our back trail. Besides, if the rains continue, my pages will become nothing more than mush once exposed to the weather."
Another voice interrupted their whispered conversation. As one, the youths turned towards the source. An older female squirrel rested a few feet distant. Her ears kept swiveling as she maintained a low voice.
"What information you kids have gathered might be valuable, but you'll never be able to pass it along."
Firecrown gave the elderly squirrel a dismissive snort. "I'm the fastest tree jumper in all of Redwall. I get into the woods and they'll never catch me."
The elder's voice came across as condescending while she stated the obvious. "These guards keep all the squirrels close to the center and away from trees. Besides, with your shackles, you'll be too slow. Fortunately, when they caught me, they didn't have any more. You get me to the forest and I'll guarantee delivery of your message."
Terranoir, a female mole no older than him, placed her paw on his shoulder. "The elder knows nothing about you, but she speaks with wisdom. Listen to her. While you followed that fox, did you notice if any of the raiders were armed with a bow?"
Firecrown covered his face with his paws while sounding a low growl. He looked at the female mole, addressing her in a less than civil tone. "Anyone ever tell you changing boats in mid stream can lead to trouble?" After a short pause, he faced a silent Terranoir. "Leave it to a mole to devise riddles when actions are needed. But to answer your question, I didn't see any bows while I shadowed that fox."
Terranoir's voice showed she either missed the rebuke or ignored it. "The elder is unfettered. Since these slavers have no bow beast, once she reaches a tree, she can outrace any spear or sling stone. We need a way of distracting the guards at the right moment."
A series of loud voices intruded on their conversation. From the outer edge, several of the raiders began rousing the sleeping prisoners. These beasts did not hesitate using a swift kick or a less than gentile prod with the butt end of a spear as they moved through the exhausted captives. Despite the moans and groans, they were herded to the center of a wide trail. The grey fox pointed off in one direction and everyone started jogging.
Kurella folded the pages and slipped them into an inner pocket. Another paw squeezed her shoulder just enough to catch her attention. Terranoir leaned closer while keeping an eye on the nearest guards.
"The elder said she has a leather bag that should keep those pages dry. Give them to her."
With nothing more than a faked sneeze, Firecrown caught the attention of the adult squirrel. He pointed to a long strand of trees bordering the trail. The elder opened her blouse and exposed her leather purse before nodding. A few whispered words and the teens worked their way to the outer edge. Firecrown jogged behind one guard while the elder paced him. He risked a quick glance behind him at Kurella, who indicated her readiness.
Firecrown gave the signal. Kurella stepped in front of the guard and fell to the ground. The guard, unable to stop in midstride, tripped. When the second guard turned, Firecrown tackled him. The elder squirrel launched herself at the nearest tree, her claws scrambling for a solid hold. Before anyone could stop her, she climbed beyond questing paws.
Pandemonium broke out as guards began herding the remaining captives away from the disturbance. Other guards released spears, but they fell short as the old female reached the tree's upper boughs. Some tried racing to the next tree, but she outdistanced them. The forest loomed ahead and in a few seconds, the slavers would lose sight of the fleeing squirrel.
Firecrown's whispered encouragements died when he heard the distinctive twang of a bowstring. He watched in horror as the elder tumbled out of the tree. He heard the snap of the branches as the escaping squirrel fell in some bushes, but could not see where she landed. After a brief pause, a female ferret approached. In one paw she carried a short bow, while she held the severed head of the elder squirrel in her other.
Propping the head on a nearby branch, the archer faded back into the forest. The grey fox marched through the cowering prisoners until he came muzzle to muzzle with the teen squirrel. He gave no warning before driving his knee into his gut. Flashentie lifted him by the nape of his neck until his nose touched the teen's ear.
"No beast has ever escaped me. A few fools tried, and you saw what happened. If anyone else makes such an attempt, you'll wish for a quick death. Trust me when I say I'm one who always keeps his word when it comes to threats." He released the teen who continued retching from the rough treatment.
The guards made no other retaliatory moves against either Firecrown or Kurella for their actions in the attempted escape. Instead, they prodded them to the front of the pack before herding the remaining captives down the appropriate trail. Both teens kept silent as they quick-marched down the indicated path. At the next rest stop, Terranoir joined them, two otter teens following at her heels.
"We still have one more opportunity, and these two have a plan."
Firecrown glanced at the mole, her two companions, and the back of the fox leading them. He felt his hackles rising. "I'll do whatever it takes to help."
Commander Flashentie paced his new second in command as they raced towards safety. While he ran, he tried recalling the face of his long-time partner, Altac, but it remained a blur. He remembered how the weasel thought every raid too dangerous. Yet Altac's concerns honed his strategy as it forced him to consider unforeseen alternatives. Together, they forged an unbeatable team. This time, Altac's fears proved valid.
He knew the more prisoners one took, the greater the chance for an escape. He recalled how otters always darted to the nearest stream and squirrels to the highest tree. With no water nearby, he hedged his bets on a break for the trees. When the slaves passed the severed head, whatever fire filled their eyes vanished like morning fog.
Just then, he heard running footsteps. When Flashentie turned, he spotted the ferret commanding the rear guard. The fellow jogged closer before matching his pace.
"The scout I left by the false trail just returned. You were right, sir. The villagers reorganized and followed our trail. This rain slowed them down, but they're armed and looking for blood. Think one or two of their hunters led the others and they took the bait. They followed the false trail westward."
The Commander expressed his irritation. "So why did the scout leave his post?"
"Sir, an hour later, another group came from the direction of the village." The officer took a few deep breaths before he continued. "A young mouse traveled with more than a score of hares and a male badger. One hare sniffed out the true path. When he told the badger, he sent two hares down the false trail and had the others await their return."
The commander cursed. His mind worked on the logistics as he considered the turn of events. Commander Flashentie turned to his underlings.
"We will reach a sharp bend in the trail very soon. First squad, drive the prisoners to the next clearing, which should take you about an hour. Second squad, hold along the tree line."
Then he turned to the officer commanding the rear guard. "Send two of your warriors down the path. Delay anyone they meet and then have them join second squad. Once we secure the prisoners at the next clearing, I'll lead everyone through the forest. When those hares attack, second squad will become the anvil to our hammer."
With a renewed sense of confidence, the slavers drove their prisoners harder. None tried covering the evidence of their passage. When the raiders passed the fork in the road, all of the beasts assigned to second squad entered the forest. As the others passed them, the commander nodded his approval as the raiders prepared a barricade.
Every beast now ran. Guards bullied the villagers. If any shackled beast proved too slow, a sword ended their race. Chains were removed from the dead and placed on any prisoner who still remained unfettered. By the time they reached their destination, everyone collapsed, gasping for each breath.
Commander Flashentie allowed only a few moments rest. Water bags passed from one prisoner to another as each took a quick drink. Guards took whatever rations could be scrounged from backpacks. Groans from everyone evidenced the grueling pace.
Two officers jogged over to him. Before they reached Flashentie, he led them a safe distance beyond the hearing of the other soldiers. He issued new orders. The two officers stood there too stunned for any retort. Then the ermine commanding the first squad found her voice.
"My unit can control these prisoners while everyone else eliminates those hares."
Using a voice more befitting a vexed mother, Commander Flashentie repeated his prior order. "Everyone will make for the beach in ten minutes. If second squad can delay those hares just one hour, we will have everyone back aboard the Red Sharkeye, which is all that matters now."
"But … but … but sir, the second squad will be exterminated to the last beast," stammered the female ermine.
"As far as I'm concerned, second squad became expendable once those hares saw through our deception. Given the choice between returning to the ship with a large number of slaves, or being killed while facing the Long Patrol and some battle crazed badger, I cannot believe you prefer dying." Commander Flashentie watched the lady's jaw drop. "If you prefer to remain with second squad, I'll not interfere. The fewer who return, the bigger the profits for the rest of us."
The ermine allowed one paw to fondle her ear for several seconds. When she stopped, the shocked expression had changed to an avaricious one. "I'll raise a mug of grog in their honor when we get back to the ship, Commander."