10:

10: New Arrivals

Six of the eight ships in Groomyer the Ruthless' fleet were docked in Tarenta's harbor. Five of these ships had three masts. The sixth ship, which stood at the end of the main pier, was the most impressive, however. Its four masts were the tallest in the fleet, and it shone spotless in the setting sun. Its brass, silver, and gold trimmings sparkled like diamonds. The wooden deck was as smooth as silk. The ship's name, caved into the side, was overlaid with gold. Groomyer's flagship Sharkfin had become a vessel to be feared throughout the warm seas.

At the highest point on the tallest mast on this four-masted ship fluttered a banner. It was pennant-shaped and had a purple field; this color signified Groomyer's royalty. The flag was decorated with silver, red, and gold fleur-de-lis'. There were nine of these scrolling symbols; eight of them were colored gold and silver, the gold standing for the horde's plunder and the silver representing the silver color of their blades. The ninth was blood red and larger then the others, symbolizing the ruthless power of the horde and their ability to kill.

A lone figure stood atop the rear deck of the massive Sharkfin. In comparison to others of his species, the creature was in proportion to the vessel he stood upon. A full head taller then other foxes, Groomyer the Ruthless was an imposing figure. His flat, dull fur set off his evil grey eyes. His scarlet tunic was belted about with an adder skin; into this was thrust his giant scimitar. A purple cloak trimmed with silver thread fluttered in the evening breeze. A thin band of gold crowned his brow.

Groomyer was watching the horizon expectantly. Twoscore days before he had sent out two of his fastest ships, the Marlin and the Firewake, to plunder island villages. Between them the two ships had a total crew of sixscore vermin, all armed to the teeth and ready to kill and conquer. They were also to capture any vermin they came across. The ships had been sent out on several missions before this and they had always brought back more slaves, recruits, and booty for their ruthless leader.

As the sun set closer towards the horizon, Groomyer's sharp eyes saw two ships rounding the western cape of the harbor. His eyes flashed with evil pleasure. Soon he would see the trophies his hordebeasts had brought him.

A quarter of an hour later the ships had been anchored and fastened to one of the piers. Groomyer bounded up the gangplank of the Firewake, the larger of the two craft. The captain, a weasel named Grotton, saluted with his cutlass. The huge fox nodded to him. "Make your report, Captain."

Grotton stood to attention. "Yer honor, we captured eighteen new slaves ter serve ya. We also took over a crew of corsairs, numberin' twenty-one. Nothin' much in the way of plunder, just a few gold bracelets and gems. Ain't many creatures with valuables livin' on the islands hereabouts; we've picked 'em all off."

Groomyer eyed his captain. "Hmm, good point there, Grotton. I'll have to take that into consideration next time I send out a raiding party. In what condition are the new slaves?"

Grotton saluted again. "Taken some of the lash sire, and had the reduced rations, but otherwise in tiptop condition." He smiled evilly. "We slew one of the oarslaves in front of 'em fer effect."

Groomyer chuckled; the strong, beautiful, yet vile sound echoed across the ship. "Well done! That always gets to them and scares the wits out of them. Very good! Now, where are these little beauties?"

Grotton jerked his paw over his shoulder. "Down in the barred cabin. We'll bring 'em up for ya." He called over to a rat that was standing nearby. "Oi! Drakkug! Get five others an' haul those new slaves up ter the deck. His Majesty wants ter get a look at 'em."

The rat Drakkug saluted and hurried off. A few moments later the clinking of chains was heard. A line of woodlanders, all shackled by their right paw to a running chain, were marched up onto the deck. The rat Drakkug strode about behind them, snarling. "Down on yer knees, ya filthy scum! Bow before yer master." He struck a vole on the back with his spearbutt. The pitiful creature cringed, kneeling before the huge fox.

Groomyer paced back and forth in front of his new prisoners. His paw slowly went to the scimitar at his side. "Will you lot work hard to keep yourselves alive?"

The captives nodded vigorously.

"And will you obey my every word, knowing that I control your very lives?"

The poor creatures nodded in unison.

Groomyer smiled, displaying his evilly curved canines. "Good. For if you didn't, you would receive far worse then this." He suddenly lashed out a mouse that was chained near the end of the column. The creature screamed in pain, writhing on the deck as he nursed his torn face.

Groomyer turned to the other slaves. "Such is punishment for those who disobey me, your master!" He abruptly spun on his heel and stalked away. "Grotton, Drakkug, take these pitiful excuses for slaves down to the compound. I'm going to go have a visit with our new recruits to the ranks."

The twenty-one new vermin were sitting in a cabin on the Marlin, the other newly-returned ship. Groomyer entered the cabin accompanied by Wavefang, a searat who had been granted the duty of Captain. At their entrance several of the vermin snarled; then they quailed at the sight of Groomyer placing a paw on his sword hilt.

The huge fox smiled disarmingly. "Why, hello my friends. You must be the poor creatures who were rescued from a sinking wreck a few days back. What are you going to do now that you've lost your ship?"

A ferret muttered, "'Ow should we know? We were captured by dat rat nex' ter yer; aye, he an' 'is crew. They jumped on us an' hauled us aboard dis great hulk. Den dey scuttled our luvey Mastmud an' locked us in dis rotten place."

Turning to his captain, Groomyer put on a face of mock horror. "You did no such thing, did you, Wavefang?"

Wavefang knew his role. He knelt before Groomyer, convincingly pretending fear. "Oh, Sire, please, spare me! We did do all 'ee mentioned, but we treated 'em well, as they're t' be yer newest recruits. I'll make sure they all git well fed an' a bed of their own if'n ya spare me. Please, Sire!"

Groomyer, who had drawn his scimitar and raised it above his head, seemed to pause for a moment. Then he slowly lowered his weapon. "If you do all you said, I'll let you live. Now go!"

††

Gareth watched as the new slaves were marched through the village square. Many of the hordebeasts, including several of the new recruits, lined the path to the compound. They threw clumps of wet sand, stones, shells, and sticks at the captives; some vermin even tried to trip them with sticks and spearbutts.

The young fox sighed as he saw an otter's cheek open from a sharp shell; he would have to bring some herbs to the slave compound tonight. He had been visiting the slaves almost every night since that first visit. Watton would be expecting him.

He shifted his position on the Malstrom's rail; the smallest ship in the fleet, this little three-masted vessel provided an excellent view of the square. It was Gareth's favorite of the ships, and he often went there to get away from the horde and his father.

Then he noticed something. Off to one side, in the deep shadow of a hut that was cast by the sun's last rays, stood one of the new hordebeasts. Instead of trying to torment the slaves, the creature stood shaking its head sadly. As the torturing continued, the creature seemed to lose control of itself; it covered its face with its paws, stumbling away to vanish in one of the many paths that ran through the village.

Gareth narrowed his eyes, thinking about what he had just seen.

"Hmmm . . ."

Okay, sorry it took so long for me to post this chapter. I've been trying to get through the required reading books for school this year, and it's like trying to drag an unconscious badger through a swamp. To make things worse, by the time I finish these books school will be starting, and then chapter production will really slow down. You all probably know what that's like, though.

By the way, at least two people have asked me in their reviews about the black squirrel from Legend of Luke. Please STOP asking me about her! You'll give away the storyline for that book to those who haven't read it! Sorry if I sounded aggressive, I just know what it feels like to have a story given away. Actually, the only thing I ask of you is to word your reviews carefully. PLEASE!

Thanks a million!