Chapter Ten

New Foes

For two days, Vaniska kept his gang on the move without pausing to make camp. The gang of fire-starters left the shelter of the southern woodlands and made for the coast. They were headed in a southerly direction, keeping the sea to their right and the flatlands to their right. Vaniska used routes frequented only by thieves and scoundrels. He had hoped that straying into such territory would embellish the reputation he was trying to earn. Much to his dismay, their razing of the village had seemed to go unnoticed. To add to his disappointment, Vaniska's new chosen route failed to produce the desired results. The gang could wander all day and never see another creature. However once night fell, the vermin found they had to watch their backs lest they be robbed or worse. In the dark the wind played tricks on them, rustling branches so they believed another beast to be near, or whipping past rocky outcrops mocking the sounds of owls. Although Vaniska would dare not let it be known, he would not make camp for fear of being murdered as he slept.

Weary and pawsore, the band halted, refusing to budge until properly rested. Vaniska himself found he could not muster the strength to carry on. Giving in to his body's exhaustion, he agreed to make camp.

In their weariness the band settled down on the grass alongside the pawpath they had been following. Wiser creatures would have selected a campsite out of view from the main drag. The site was visible to anybeast high on the hillside or traveling along the coast. However, Vaniska and his followers were not wise creatures. The sun began to sink behind the trees as Vaniska and his gang laid their cloaks and tunics on the ground to use as makeshift bedding. The night blanketed the vermin in darkness, no campfire or lantern lit to shed light. It wouldn't have mattered anyway, for the four pairs of eyes that had been watching the gang since morning needed no light for what they had in mind.

Once the snores of the young vermin could be heard, the four watchers sprang into action. A quartet of sleek weasels stalked amongst the sleeping bodies, eyes darting this way and that to take a quick inventory of what was to be had. They were the Easlew brothers - a band of robbers who knew these lands like the backs of their paws. Many a traveler, wayfarer, or even other thief had fallen victim to the brothers. Their patience and boldness had served the scoundrels well over the seasons. For hours or perhaps even days they might follow a victim, sizing up what sort of beast they might be, and what goods they may be carrying. From the moment they spied the group of foxes and vermin straying into their territory the weasels had decided to make sport of them.

"T'aint much to be had. This lot's poorer than a family of church mice," muttered Bilken Easlew to his eldest brother Rask.

Rask Easlew stood out as a larger weasel both in size and build. Testing the tip of his knife with his paw, he nodded to his younger brother. "Aye, but take what ye can carry. These young twits need to be taught a lesson, scampering along these roads as if they own 'em."

The four went to work lifting weapons, food or anything else that caught their interest. Their paws moved quickly, stealing from the slumbering creatures without waking them. The few belongings the vermin possessed were stuffed into rough burlap bags, toted by each of the Easlew brothers.

"Aw, look at 'em slumbering away like babes," Rask said without raising his voice above a whisper. "Bilken, Potro, Jasker, stuff those sacks aside and get out yor blades. I think we ought t'wake the darlings up."

Sniggering as they set about their work, the cruel siblings drew their weapons and surrounded the sleeping Vaniska. Rask pressed his knife blade to Vaniska's throat, speaking directly into the fox's ear.

"Now ye listen to me, foxy. Ye and yer crew are going t'get up nice and slowlike, 'n shift yerselves smartlike. If ye enjoy livin', dat is."

Vaniska's eyes shot open and he tried to rise but, feeling the blade prick his skin through his neck fur, thought better of it.

"Now now," laughed Rask. "Not so fast, young 'un. I thought foxes was supposed to be sly creatures. Ye, mate, got a lot t'learn if youse want to stray down these paths. Get yer creatures moving now afore we slay ye to remove yer stupidity from this 'ere land."

Kicking Vaniska in the flanks, he lifted his blade and shouted, "Go on, get going if you know what's good for you!"

Scrambling up to his footpaws, Vaniska blinked, wondering if this could all be a dream. The other members of his band were being stirred into wakefulness by Rask's brothers, who kicked and prodded the sleeping vermin until they awoke confused and bewildered.

Rask shook his head. Did these vermin not realize how easily the brothers could have slain the lot of them? The weasel felt a touch of uncharacteristic pity for the fools.

"Listen up, ye wretches! Ye've made the worst mistake of yor young lives camping 'ere, but we're gonna let ye off easy. Leave now and we'll let ye live. Then again, if the mood strikes us we may change our minds and hunt ye down and slaughter the lot of ye jus' fer sport. But for now we'll give ye a fightin' chance."

Returning to full wakefulness, Vaniska glared at the weasel. Straightening himself up to his full height, he boldly and stupidly strode forward. "We ain't going nowhere."

The fox's challenge was met by uproarious laughter from the Easlew brothers. Shaking with mirth and wiping a mock tear from his eye, Rask looked as if he were about to fall over seeing some strange comedy in the fox's action. This lured Vaniska into a false sense of security.

"See lads, this lot ain't anything more then a load of flea-bitten ditch robbers," he taunted, trying to win over his nerve-racked band.

The eldest weasel suddenly stopped laughing. "Beg pardon?" Vaniska didn't have a chance to reply before Rask knocked the wind out of him with a quick punch to the stomach. Two of the younger brothers grabbed hold of the staggering fox. Pinned like this, Vaniska had no way to ward off Rask's subsequent punches, piling pain on top of humiliation. When Rask was finished, he surveyed his work with satisfaction: a broken and bloody nose, two black eyes and a number of unsightly welts rising though Vaniska's fur. A little worse for wear, but Vaniska would live. Rask smirked as he turned to the terrified gang.

"I'll say this one more time. Go now and I won't kill ye. Ye youngsters are starting to try me patience."

Without a second thought, the band broke into a frantic run, Vaniska in the rear struggling to keep up.

The Easlew brothers didn't wait around to watch them go. Those thieves had other places to call on tonight.

…..

By morning, the band of Vaniska was utterly exhausted. The fox's face was terribly swollen, his snout crooked from the break, but it was his pride that suffered the most. They'd run through the night until they were sure they had lost the four weasels, but when they finally settled again to rest, sleep did not come. Trying to stay alert while sleeping proved impossible, and by morning every creature looked more dead than alive.

To make matters worse, it wasn't until the light of day that the band took full stock of their situation. Their food and weapons were gone, along with anything they might have been able to trade for more goods.

Vaniska scowled, pacing as he cursed all weasels up and down. Nursing his injuries as best he could, he shook off any who tried to help him, muttering darkly to himself.

Wayta crept forward, weary of the gang leader when such moods took him. "What are we to do now?" he asked.

"I'll tell ye what we'll do: we'll make the slimy scum pay for the humiliation they have caused us. No creature does this to Vaniska and gets away with it!"

"But how do ye suppose we'll find 'em again? Those thieves are long gone. They won't be back in these parts again."

Vaniska snarled and shoved Wayta aside. Climbing up onto an outcrop of rocks, he motioned for Wayta and the others to join him. Sighing heavily, Wayta scrambled to his feet and climbed up the boulders to join Vaniska at his side. The others followed Wayta's lead, curious as to what Vaniska might have spotted.

In the distance they could see the ocean, and a dockyard bustling with activity. "That's where they'll be headed. Sure, the scum might have their robbers' den elsewhere, but down there is where they can sell and gamble our belongings away."

"So what do you intend to do, Vaniska?" Wayta asked nervously.

"You remember that village we had trouble with, Wayta?" Vaniska said, with a cruel smile that could have frozen a pond in high summer.

…

Jallgo was taking breakfast in his private gardens. It was one of the fox's favorite places to sit and while away the hours. From the gardens he could watch the comings and goings at the dockyard below. Everything here, from the ships at port to the taverns that dotted the seaside, were in one sense or another Jallgo's property. An ex-corsair, the fox had in his younger years been quite successful. He was able to retire, building up a port on the southern coast. It afforded him a comfortable life, free of many of the dangers of his past seafaring days.

Using a delicate silver knife to break a boiled woodpigeon egg, the fox smiled pleasantly. This was the only way for a creature to live out his golden years, away from the dangers of the high sea to live in comfort and luxury off the profits accumulated by financing other ships to carry out their own adventures.

His daughter Nicara interrupted Jallgo's reminiscing. The vixen was attempting to sneak away from the gardens unnoticed. Jallgo may have been well into his later seasons, but these efforts didn't escape his attention.

"Nica, where are you off to this early in the morning?" he called out to her.

Nicara cringed; how she detested that pet name her father used on her at every opportunity. "Father, I'm going for my morning stroll on the wharf. I understand the ship from Vinland arrived last night and I want to make sure the cargo is agreeable," she said, using all of her beauty and charm to try to win over her father. She knew how he wished her show more interest in the activities of the port, which their family controlled.

Jallgo finished off his boiled egg, placing his spoon on the platter so gently that it didn't make a sound. "Well, that's funny. The Swiftfang vessel is two days late. I haven't been informed of her arrival and I don't expect to see a sign of the Vinland flag for at least another two days. There are only two ships ole Mejas Swiftfang would send close to Mossflower. Judging by how late the vessel is, I will bet that blasted ferret sent The Nixie."

Nicara sighed, realizing her father would know better than to believe The Nixie would ever arrive on time. Of all the vessels that used their port it never arrived as expected. "Oh, I must have been mistaken then. Silly me." She smiled and continued towards the path that led to the shore.

"Hold one moment, Nica," Jallgo warned. "I don't want you lurking around those taverns and barracks. Remember, you're a respectable young lady. Now go along, I can see you do not care to share your secrets with your own father."

Needing no second bidding, the vixen hurried down the path with an air of grace only a vixen could carry. Waiting until Nicara had a good head start, the old fox rang a small bell on his table. Within moments a tall sinewy fox appeared. From nose tip to tail he was a silvery gray, although this wasn't due to great age because the creature had yet to reach his middle seasons. He wore a black tunic trimmed with silver only emphasizing his colour distinction. Buckled to his side, a menacing looking blade, the hilt carved from the bone of a great sea creature. Standing at attention before Jallgo, he awaited his orders without uttering a single word.

"Ah, Konnal! Prompt as usual. I require you today for a most delicate matter."

Before Jallgo could even continue, the silver fox cut him off. "You want me to follow your daughter and ensure her reputation is not tarnished, sir."

Jallgo nodded. "Then you understand the delicate nature of this issue. You know what to do by now. Off you go."

The silvery fox swished his tail and, giving a polite bow, left his master to seek out Nicara. "I will not fail you, my lord," he promised as he took his leave.

Jallgo relaxed to enjoy the rest of his breakfast. With Nicara being watched by the loyal eyes of Konnal, he could deal with other matters at paw - namely, the issue of the Vinland ship's late arrival. Jallgo was deeply honored that, in attempts to strengthen the trade bonds between his port and Vinland, Mejas sent his fleet's flagship to make the delivery of cargo. The Nixie was the pride and joy of Vinland, as was her Captain Killicia Swiftfang, only daughter to Mejas Swiftfang. Oh, how he wished he did not need to rely so heavily on trade with the western isle! Gazing out at the ocean, he mused aloud to himself, "Where has that blasted ferret gotten to?"

….

Konnal found Nicara rather easily. Tracking individuals is made that much simpler when the creature you're trying to track is waiting for you, he thought, smiling as he greeted the vixen. "Your father's worried about the consequences of your actions, m'lady. He requests I keep a watchful eye on you."

Embracing the silvery fox, Nicara smirked as she whispered into his ear. "I assure you, I will only partake in activities that will enhance my reputation at this port. Meanwhile, tell me more on how watchful your eyes will be on me."

"That is hardly proper to discuss with a lady, now, is it?" he said with a laugh, momentarily distracted by playful flicking of her vibrant red tail.

"Oh, humor me, Konnal," she cooed, pulling her father's trusted aide into the nearest tavern.