Chapter Ten
The Water's Edge

"Keep 'em moving. We don't have time to waste," Commander Flashentie growled.

Nightfall came and with the moon obscured by clouds, the raiders had no choice but to slow. Fallen branches remained hidden in the shadows and nobody wanted to fall. If a soldier fell, his comrades cursed him or an officer kicked him until he regained his position. If a captive fell, they had to scramble back to their paws before the rear guard passed. The raiders left no living beast behind.

With the path so narrow, the soldiers maintained their vigilance lest their lone squirrel try a repeat of an earlier escape attempt. If Firecrown stepped towards the outer edge, the slavers drove him back with the flat of their swords. They allowed no opportunity at escape.

Another turn on the dark trail and the running beasts found themselves funneled onto a wide and sandy beach. The exhausted slaves collapsed in a heap when the guards ceased their constant prodding. Tongues of both captives and guards hung out as everyone panted.

From several bushes along one side of the clearing, seven sea rats moved onto the beach. Unlike the raiders who wore green uniforms, the sailors wore a motley collection of garments running from a dingy white to a flashy gold color. The one wearing a dark outfit that blended with the moonless night called the fox by name.

"We expected more of you and a lot less of them. So what happened?"

Commander Flashentie shook paws and glanced back the way they came. "Long story short, Jark. We hit the village at the same time some caravan decided to visit, which explains why we have so many captives. Unfortunately, the villagers put up a good fight thanks to several wandering warriors who happened by at the time of our attack. And that's not the worse part. Just tell me Captain Peggen is sitting offshore, otherwise we'll have a score of Long Patrol hares and one blood-wrath badger as uninvited company real soon."

Jark shouted instructions to the other rats. Five of them raced to the far side and removed the camouflage from a dozen launches. The last rat returned with a shuttered lantern, which Jark lit. The sailor walked to the water's edge and flipped the shutters up and down at a rapid pace. When he finished, the rat doused the flame. A moment later, two dim lights flared to life some distance offshore.

Commander Flashentie paced the beach as everyone prepared for departure. "Hurry it up; we get these launches more than ten paces from shore and no beast can grab us. Under fifty paces and we need only worry if one of those hares is a marksman with a bow. Get beyond that and the dark will hide us."

Prisoners boarded first. With the dejected woodlanders seated, several raiders climbed aboard. Oars were shipped and the vermin pulled together. A dozen paces from shore, they awaited the arrival of the other launches.

Flashentie raced to the shoreline. His paw snagged his lieutenant's shoulder and he stopped him from loading the slaves. "Keep that troublemaking squirrel with the red head and his mouse friend together. I want those two on my launch where I can keep an eye on them. Make sure the otters remain seated in the middle, I don't want to lose such valuable cargo."

The weasel lieutenant's eyes scanned the collection of prisoners yet to be loaded. "I'll chain that female mole to them. She'll do anything she can to remain dry. Anyway, I hear river otters hate salt water since it bothers their fur."

Commander Flashentie hesitated when he heard something in the forest. He noticed how the sound of snapping twigs had every raider redoubling their efforts. He stood by the last launch, his muzzle alternately pointing to the forest and the distant lights floating offshore. As the last prisoners were loaded, he grabbed the red-headed squirrel's lapels.

"You have caused me a lot of trouble on this raid and I intend seeing you get what you deserve."

When the squirrel spat at him, he used the back of his paw and struck the prisoner hard across the muzzle. He felt something wet on his arm and that brought a satisfied smile to his lips. Commander Flashentie climbed into the launch, sitting in the bow where he could watch the prisoners and observe the now deserted beach. Each stroke of the oars widened his grin.

During the forced march, Firecrown kept dragging one of his feet despite the harassment he received from the guards. If he passed a bush, his paw would bend a branch. Though he suspected his efforts would prove little help to those tracking the slavers, he did what he could. Ever since the returning guard announced the Long Patrol had seen through the raider's deception, they no longer bothered hiding their tracks.

When Terranoir proposed an escape, he felt apprehensive. Her plan relied on the innate talents of others. Firecrown chaffed at the idea of putting his reliance on somebody he didn't know but had no choice. The guards remained too vigilant for any escape effort while they crossed the forest.

Things began going wrong the moment they reached the beach. With all the prisoners clustered at the shore, Firecrown lost contact with his friends. Guards loaded their captives aboard the longboats by grabbing the nearest prisoner. With so many creatures running about, it proved impossible to locate either of his companions or the two otters he met. Just as two stoats seized his arms, he heard the grey fox call.

"Bring that one to me."

Spitting into his capturer's face proved nothing more than a futile act of bravado, but the fox's reaction made a bloody muzzle worthwhile. Then Firecrown smiled when he noticed who sat in the longboat. Kurella sat next to him on the first bench occupied by captives. Two rows behind and between the two otters she recruited sat the mole Terranoir. Hope surged until he saw the chain running between the otters and mole.

Firecrown listened to the longboat as it scraped across the sands. He rocked with the boat as the vermin climbed aboard. He considered trying to tip the launch, but realized his shackled wrists would weigh him down. With no alternative but to endure, he remained seated.

The rhythmic grunting and the sound of the oars rising and falling depressed him. Each stroke became another lost opportunity at freedom. Somehow this reality conflicted with the many tales he remembered of the Long Patrol arriving just when all hope seemed lost. The grinning fox sitting in the bow said it all; they were beyond rescue.

The vermin put their backs into rowing. In the dark, Firecrown could not tell if they moved since he found no point of reference. After what seemed like hours, a bright light appeared. Though he knew the launch moved, his eyes told him it was the light that approached while they remained stationary. The bow turned towards the light like a moth drawn to a candle's flame.

Each longboat made for the illuminated patch of sea. As they approached, he spied members of the crew moving about the deck. Prisoners climbed up netting dropped over the ship's railing. The launch crews fished out any who fell into the water. When a captive reached the top of the netting, the vermin aboard the ship would grab them. Once emptied, the launch rowed further down the ship where winches lifted the craft.

Then it was their turn. The boat bumped into the wooden side and two of the slavers grabbed the netting. Another raider passed a key to the captives, instructing them to remove their shackles. The grey fox made a motion with his paw and every woodlander eye followed his pointing finger. Firecrown listened to several captives moaning at what the squirrel considered an easy climb.

"Don't even think about escape. If you fall in, swim towards the ship. The tide is against you and the beach is on the other side of this ship. Any beast swimming away will be shot."

A glance upward confirmed the presence of archers sitting on benches suspended over the side. Firecrown blurted "Looks like you covered every possibility."

"Indeed we have squirrel." The fox's laughter angered Firecrown.

As the prisoners grabbed the netting, Firecrown whispered to the two otters. They relayed his instructions to the mole and mouse. A simple command from the fox sent the five beasts scrambling up the netting.

When the five reached the top, one vermin crew beast grabbed the mouse Kurella. Her aggressive side asserted itself and she sunk her sharp teeth into the vermin's arm. On the other side of the netting, Firecrown launched himself into the midriff of the vermin waiting for him. He then threw himself at the feet of two sailors and rolled into them. With the guards distracted and the nearest sailors floundering, he hoped the otter twins had a clear path.

The squirrel spared a momentary glance at the unfolding drama. The two otters crossed the open deck area at full speed. Before any of the crew could react, they dove headfirst into the inky ocean. The other woodlander captives attacked whichever vermin crew beast stood close. Pandemonium broke out aboard the raider.

A large stoat grabbed a spear as he followed the teen otters. He stared down into the black waters, his arm pulled back ready to throw. When Terranoir cleared the ship's side, she raced across the deck and jumped onto the sailor's back. Both toppled into the ocean.

Firecrown regained his footing, his back against the mast. He yanked two nearby belaying pins free. Lines screeched as the rigging sagged under the released tension. Crewmembers scrambled for the errant lines, bumping into any standing in their way.

Everywhere he looked, he saw brawling beasts. With a serviceable weapon in his paws, Firecrown charged into the nearest group of vermin sailors. His first swing connected with a sailor's head, which left whichever beast he struck lying on the deck. He had no time to verify if the rat lived. He roared out his battle cry as he charged another vermin sailor.

Kurella dumped a nearby bucket of water on the deck. Two ferrets racing towards her crashed head first onto the slippery surface. She swung the empty bucket like a mace, just missing the head of a charging stoat who tackled her. The two went down in a tangle of arms and legs. Several raiders pounced onto the mouse and the fight ended.

A rope coil hit Firecrown's legs from behind. He crashed to the deck with his feet entangled. Three sailors tried to subdue him, but he fought with grim determination until the crew pried the belaying pins from his fists.

The woodlander uprising ended. Sailors and raiders alike herded the fighters to the ladder propped open near the cargo hold. Both Firecrown and Kurella stood by watching the other captives descending. The crew held onto both until a familiar face approached.

"Again you have caused me trouble with your futile antics," the grey fox growled.

Just as the fox pulled back his fist, another raider shouted. "We're missing one crew beast and three prisoners. It's those two otters and female mole that were in your boat commander. I don't see them in the hold and they're not on deck."

Commander Flashentie forgot about him as he rushed to the opposite side of the ship. He stood at the railing, his back towards them. When the fox spoke, Firecrown shuddered.

"So we have escaping prisoners; you know what must be done."