10

Thornback realized that he had to take care of Taskill himself and steal the second clue from the hare's mansion.

He came to this conclusion after days of hard, careful thought, and a few incidents that happened during this thought.

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He left Ben's shop with the news that the spy had brought for them. Maon and Priam were very relieved that Diomede and Taskill had been unsuccessful in finding the third clue. But that did not destroy the problem that was being faced. They could still work out the location.

So they needed to get the second clue back from them before they wrote down a copy. Then the Black Rabbits would be able to find the King's Scroll and Priam would be king.

Priam was willing to do almost anything to assist his new friends, but he could not think of a way to get the second clue.

It was in the afternoon, just after lunch, that Maon decided that their spy could get the clue, or at least find out where it was.

The assignment was delivered to the sister, and she promised to tell him what they needed.

No response came for two weeks. At the end of those two weeks, a convoy of hares came forward, wearing the top hats of the Nativists and were led by Taskill.

Priam, Maon, Thornback, Skipper, Raga, Jander, and Earnan rallied a defence of about twenty-five other hares to stand firm. As leader of the Rabbits, Maon stood at the doorway, backed by the rest. As a safety precaution, Skipper stood hidden by one of the windows on the top floor, ready to send a sling stone whizzing down to prevent an assassination.

Taskill was holding a leather bag, but no one had any idea of what was inside it.

He glanced at Priam, "So, here's Diomede's older brother. You look just like him, you know that?" It was conveyed as an insult, which revealed that Taskill too disliked the selfish younger brother.

Priam glared at the tall hare, able to do so because he was standing on steps and was only about three inches shorter than Taskill, "You tell my brother, that I will not see him become king of the Highlands." There was a defiant note in that, but also a regretful one; Priam still loved Diomede, and did not want to kill his brother.

Taskill, who probably would have slit his brother's throat with a song on his lips, leered at what he believed was a terrible weakness in a fighter.

He looked at Maon, "I always thawt you were the best one."

That was a surprise; Taskill, making a compliment to his enemy? No one could respond to this sudden sentence out of the Nativist leader.

But he was not finished, "Your father was probably the strawngest foe I've ever had, but your brother was an emotional prick. You were the one that deserved to replace your fawther as head of this rabble. You were the one most likely to arrange a truce. But now I see that I was wrawng." He laughed and threw the bag at the Rabbits.

Earnan caught it, and looked inside; turning pale with shock, and then red with fury, he spat at Taskill's feet.

It was the head of their spy, caught at last.

Taskill turned and left, taking his troops with him, still laughing at his triumph.

Thornback wasted no time and went to Ben's shop.

None of Taskill's hares lounged about the house, so Thornback was relieved. He wore a hood and cloak to disguise his face.

He went up to the door, knowing that it would look suspicious if he was going at dusk. Nevertheless, if there was anyone he trusted absolutely, it was the raccoon with his shillelagh.

He knocked on the door with a soft tone but an urgent beat.

As usual, Ben opened the door from the side, his shillelagh poised to strike.

The raccoon growled in relief, "It's you." He shoved a piece of crab meat in his mouth and lowered his shillelagh.

Thornback unloosed his hood and took off the cloak, "We have to get that second clue, Ben. As of now, no one can find the King's Scroll, and we have to find it before they get the chance."

Ben went back to his plate of shrimp, crab, and potatoes. He drank deeply from a jug of ale to wash down the crab, and dug into his meal.

"I'm still listening," he spoke through a mouthful of shrimp.

Thornback sat down, and continued, "Ben, how many times has Taskill talked with you to try and get you on their side?"

Ben paused in mid-chew, but disguised it quickly by wiping his jaws with a napkin, "Once or twice, why?"

Thornback leaned forward eagerly, "He must have told you where he lives!"

Ben smirked as he crunched on a salty potato, "It's no secret, Thorn. He lives up at the castle, you know, where the king used to sit."

Thornback turned to the window, and looked to where the castle stood on the highest hill, overlooking the city with an aura of both fear and power. It was darkened to black, but tinged orange around the edges from the rising sun.

"Is Taskill up to anything lately?"

Ben looked at him, finished his dinner, and took a pot of hot water from the fireplace. He began to was off his dish and his cutlery and gave an answer, "There's the anniversary coming up."

"What anniversary?"

"It celebrates Mungan's death in battle with the Nativists. Every season, on the same day, it's been declared a holiday among his hares. I've heard it's a nice party."

Thornback fumed at this disrespect for the old leader of the Black Rabbits, and was particularly frustrated at the mildness in Ben's voice.

But he suddenly saw what he could do, "Where is this feast held?"

"The castle, of course! Where else would it be held?"

Thornback nodded grimly, "I'm going to infiltrate the castle and steal the second clue tomorrow night!"

Ben almost dropped his plate, "You're out of your mind!"

Thornback shook his head, "It's the only thing to do!"

Ben sighed, "What are you going to do to cover your back?"

"I'll think of something," Thornback gave that quick answer because in truth he didn't know what to do about that.

Ben had finished his washing, and took up his fiddle. He began playing a tune unknown to Thornback.

He played for a minute without speaking, and nodded at the candles, "When the music's over, turn out the lights."

Thornback nodded, knowing that that would be his signal to escape unnoticed.

Ben looked morose, and sang in a harsh voice,

"For the music is your special friend

Dance on fire as it intends

Music is your only friend

Until the end

Until the end

Until the end!"

He continued to play without singing, and then stopped all of a sudden.

Thornback blew out the candles, put on his cloak, and left the shop as quietly as a shadow fleeing after the retreating golden sun.

Ben sighed angrily, shook his head, and went upstairs to bed.

The raccoon wondered about what sort of foolish idea Thornback would think up to distract Taskill, and drifted to sleep.

At one time in the middle of the night, he awoke to a sound coming from the alley next to his house.

Blinking his tired eyes, he crept out of his bed and towards one of his windows to see what was going on.

Shane, the otter who had sunk into a savage depression since the death of his sister, was throwing a knife at a specific target from about fifteen paces away.

Ben realized what was going on, and growled his frustration and regret at the idea.

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Thornback had come up with an idea, and he went to find Shane immediately after leaving Ben's house.

The otter was sitting in Maon's house, cradling an unopened bottle of gin. He was pure sober, but dull in the senses from sheer apathy and bitterness.

It was not just the fact that his sister had been butchered in the snow; he had committed atrocities that would have been unforgivable in Mossflower. He had slain young boys and burned down houses belonging to Nativists. He had become a savage fighter with little scruples, but it was wearing thin on the otter's conscience. He was, in short, becoming a recluse surrounded by those who cared for him.

June and Talia were very worried about him, not knowing what to do about it, and Thornback felt a pulse of guilt at this idea of his, but knew that it had to be done.

"Shane?"

The otter did not even look at him, but the badger could somehow tell he was listening.

"Shane, I need you to help me rob Taskill of the second clue,' here the otter twitched his head in the badger's direction, 'We need to get past Taskill's feast tomorrow night, and then we'll sneak into his private quarters. I need you to be lookout for me."

Shane might as well have been made of stone for how he was responding, but then, out of the blue, he spoke, "No."Thornback was surprised, but also sad. Shane was good at sneaking around- he'd received much training from Macrath- and if he would not help him, he did not know who he could turn to as easily.

Shane looked at Thornback with an icy stare, "I will kill him for you."

Thornback almost fell off his chair, "You're kidding me! You'll kill Taskill right there in front of everyone?"

Shane grimaced, "There's always a group of sea otters visiting the Highlands. They come to sell, not to pick sides, but Taskill takes an interest in flattering them anyways." He was right; sea otters often came with their cargo to trade, which was how Ben got his best fish. Shane could impersonate one of them and thus gain entrance into the castle.

"But Shane, you might be found, and you could die!"

Shane smiled the most unpleasant smile that Thornback would ever see in his life, "If I see someone who knows me, I will leave the castle or hide. Anyway, I will not be taken alive by those hares."

Thornback believed him.

Five minutes later, he left to practice throwing knives. Thornback wondered if this was his fault, but decided that it was not; Shane had brought forth the idea despite the badger's protests.

The next day, Shane was still holding his knives, his eyes red from staying up. When asked about it, he admitted that he had stayed awake until he could accurately hit his target every time. That had been about three hours before sunrise, and Thornback reckoned he would never have been able to stand that.

Shane was tough, that was what was good about him. Thornback knew he could rely on Shane to fulfil his part of the plan.

He went over the plan three times to a silent Shane. The last two times, the otter's almost-belligerent silence made Thornback feel very foolish. Still, he wanted everything to go right.

He consulted Ben one more time, as the raccoon was negotiating in his shop. He was having difficulty getting a conversation out of Ben that day.

"Will you let me do my work, Thorn?" Ben finally shot out angrily.

Thornback was surprised, even offended, "What's up with you? You look like you've got an appointment with the devil."

Ben flinched, then shot Thornback a look of tired irritation, "Can you just leave me out of this?"

Thornback left in a huff, refusing to reason with himself; Ben was busy, sure, but that was not a valid excuse to shut a friend out when that friend needed him. The nerve!

Nevertheless, he prepared for that night.

As the sun began to set, he and Shane headed out for the castle. Crowds were heading into the gateway, so there were no big identification checks.

Shane managed to squeeze in between a group of hares and sea otters. No one paid him any attention, each group thinking he was with the other.

Thornback kept his head low, and his hood wide. Every sound began to sound sensitive to him. As thought they were screams of recognition and accusation. But no one seemed too interested in him at the moment, each one eager to get inside.

Ben had been right; it was a big feast. Food was laid across a score of long tables, scattered in the room. There were a few guards in Nativist livery, but they were far outnumbered by the guests.

Thornback shied away from the dining hall, turning into a corridor leading upwards. He had not brought his spear, relinquishing it in exchange for a sharp dirk, which was halfway between a sword and a dagger. He had found it among the weaponry held in Maon's house.

He hoped he wouldn't have to use it; bodies just couldn't be hidden forever in their own castle. The badger was relieved when he found no opposition as he ascended the steps.

The dark corridor opened up to another hall. The walls were festooned with banners, tapestries, and doors. Thornback wondered which one opened to Taskill's private quarters.

Thornback had a feeling that none of them were Taskill's. As rich as the hall looked, it didn't seem right; Taskill felt that he was superior to all hares, especially those he led.

Not only that, he feared an assassination, as all tyrants do. So he would obviously want a room separated from his hares.

The question was; where to now?

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Music was being played loudly by a troop of musicians. It was different from the wild pipes of the Black Rabbits. It was more regimented a brisk, ordered beat on the single solitary drum, with a trio of flutes playing perfectly in unison with each other.

Shane leaned against a large column, sipping at his glass of water; he made eye contact with no one, keeping out of sight as much as he could. Most were digging into the lovely food laid out before them. There was bread, cheese, vegetables, soups, fruits, even some shrimp was laid out on the tables. The cooks had clearly outdone themselves, especially with the desserts. Cakes, pies, truffles, pudding, all were there after the dinner, and many of the hares found space for more food at the sight of these delicious additions.

No sign of Taskill yet, Shane thought, and he chewed at a piece of bread.

It wouldn't be too long now.

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Thornback crept past the rows of doors, aiming to go upwards once more. He saw another set of stairs at the end of the hall. Hopefully it led him somewhere.

All other sounds seemed to grow louder by a hundred times now that silence was key. It was strange how that worked out- Thornback's nerves became extra wired at the little sounds that were normally taken for granted.

The stairs were winding, so Thornback was able to take a peek around the corner in case anyone was coming down.

He saw that he was nearing the top as the light got brighter. Thornback paced himself, trying not to make noise.

All of a sudden, there was the sound of a voice,

"Come and enjoy the party; I'm sure it will provide wonderful entertainment!"

That mocking voice could only be one person's: Taskill.

Thornback nearly jumped out of his skin in terror as he descended back down.

Footsteps came down, pounding the floor like giants, or so it seemed to Thornback.

Drawing out his dirk, Thornback slipped behind a suit of armour beside the stairs.

Just as his cloak whipped around the metal, a group of five creatures walked down the stairs.

Thornback dared not look at them: anything so as they would not see him. Shrinking down as far as he could, Thornback did not move until he could no longer heard their footsteps.

He sighed, shakily; sweating from terror, he climbed back up the stairs.

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Shane turned as Taskill entered the room like a god. There were a group of others behind him, but they were concealed from him by the cheering crowds of supporters for Taskill.

He smiled at them all under his oiled moustache and his top hat. He carried his knives and cleavers as usual, but the patched coat he wore to the gang battle was replaced by a jacket of fine brown cloth. Underneath this he wore a yellow vest and a white undershirt. A black bowtie finished the ensemble.

Shane growled as he listened to the band and hosted a show where he threw his knives expertly. A female hare was made to stand still as Taskill expertly threw his blades within millimetres of touching her.

He was good, but not good enough to dodge an assassination. Shane gave a cold smile as Taskill's knife thudded into the wood behind the assistant for the last time before the tall hare announced a toast.

This was it, this was when he would kill him, Shane thought as he fingered his blade.

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Thornback saw, to his delight, that there was only one door at the top of the stairway.

He crept forward, seeing that the door was well-oiled and would not creak when opened.

Examining the lock, he pulled out a picklock that he had borrowed from Maon. The hare had shown him how to use it, and had made him open a variety of locks until both he and Thornback were satisfied.

The door clicked open and made no sound as Thornback pulled it inwards.

There were no lights on in the room, which did not surprise the badger.

Discarding his cumbersome cloak, the badger drew his dirk and stepped inside.

At that very same instant, a heavy object whizzed out from the darkness to knock him unconscious.

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Taskill poured himself a glass of water, surrounded by his eager audience.

Adding a dose of alcohol, he held a candle near the edge of the glass.

The lighter alcohol caught flame, and the image it created was fascinating to watch.

Shane ignored it, and instead prepared to throw his knife. He was waiting for just the right moment to throw it and put an end to this despicable creature.

Taskill took off his hat and put it on the table. It was a signal: all other creatures in the rooms took off their hats and held them in their paws.

Shane, to disguise his plans, did likewise, concealing his knife.

Taskill spoke out to his audience, "We now give our tribute to a great victory that was fought two seasons ago, and won in great honour."

Shane was shaking with suppressed fury. There had been no honour at that battle; creatures demeaned themselves by gouging out their opponents' eyes and stabbing them in the back. Well, the otter thought, a fitting way this is, you fuck.

Taskill smiled, "In honour of triumph over the Black Rabbits, and the deaths we inflicted that day!"

Shane pulled out his knife and hurled it with a yell. Those around him backed away in initial shock.

Taskill ducked casually and drew his own knife. Hurling the deadly blade, it sank into Shane's stomach up to the hilt.

Shane froze in surprise and pain. Taskill had been expecting him! But how?

Two hares grabbed him and took away his other knives. For good measure, one of them savagely ripped out the knife and presented to Taskill.Taskill's eyes glittered in the artificial light of the candles and flames, "See how the new leader of the Black Rabbits fights me? By sending a grief-stricken lackey to try his ability with a knife!"Shane moaned in pain, tears pouring down his face.

Taskill had no mercy: he signalled for the otter to be held upright, and the tall hare delivered three hard kicks at the otter. It hit his stomach every time, invoking screams of pain from Shane, and jeers from the crowd.

Taskill turned to the crowd, "But if this outrage is not bearable on its own, look at this!"

He pointed to one of the entrances, where four big guards dragged Thornback in to yells of hate and rage.

Thornback was snarling angrily, attempting to struggle, but every struggle he made earned him a kick or a punch.

Taskill spat at Thornback, "Look at this, ladies and gentlemen! A common thief that relies on his friend to create enough of a ruckus so he leaves unharmed!" He turned to someone in the crowd, "Is this the lad we were talking about?" The question was spoken in a way that Taskill knew quite well the answer for himself.

Thornback looked to where Taskill was looking, and saw a horrifying sight.

Ben was wearing his usual vest and undershirt, now he was wearing a top hat. He fingered his shillelagh as he stared bitterly at Thornback and Taskill, "Aye, that's number two."

Taskill smiled evilly, "Let's nail this bastard to the wall and see how he likes that!" he was referring to Shane, who was now being stretched on a makeshift rack. The wound on his stomach was opening due to the stretch, and it was looking very nasty.

Thornback screamed at the sight. He leaned forward and bit Taskill's paw. Before he could taste blood he was viciously beaten until he let go.

Taskill took his blade and held it near a fire, "Stretch him out on the table!"

The badger still attempted to resist, but the guards head butted him several times; dazed and bloody, the badger was almost senseless.

Calls were made out, urging Taskill to kill the thief along with the assassin.

Thornback lay spread-eagled on the table, his face hurting from the blows and head butts received.

Shane was screaming as his paws were nailed to the stone wall. The stone made it difficult to put the nails in, which gave the otter even more pain.

But the pain was just starting for Thornback. Taskill's knife blades were red with heat, "This little bastard won't die like his friend. He will live with that guilt! He will walk amongst you in shame! Let him be deformed yet spared by me, me, the true leader of the Highlands!"

The metal was laid to Thornback's face, and a sizzling noise sounded in the air.

And Ben, who watched from a distance, stood passively, unemotional, like a mercenary.