25

Macrath just wasn't the leader that his father had been. Despite the physical likeness, he had not gained the wisdom needed for being a leader of the Black Rabbits. Certainly he had a masterful cunning for war (he had been fighting for most of his life and had an impressive reputation) but his temper got in the way, and it was up to his younger brothers to set him straight.

Macrath relied on the youngest brother, Machar, as his counsellor. Maon was his top lieutenant in war.

However, there had been little war as of late. The Nativists were celebrating, gaining strength, while their opponents cut their losses and ground their paws in.

The Black Rabbits had lost hares, switching sides treacherously in favour of the winners. Their allies were suffering the same fate.

Thornback knew why. Mungan had made many alliances, and with death, some took it as a signal that their deals were now void. This was indeed the sad truth, and Macrath made it little better.

Thornback was slightly reminded of his own brother, Roaveen, in Macrath. Macrath shouted and raged at his brothers simply to displace his anger, and then would apologize later. He was physically the strongest of the lot, and he had been the heir to the Black Rabbits' affairs.

The Black Rabbits were not merely a war gang: they were guardians of the gang's members. The Black Rabbits, like other gangs in the Highlands, issued food and supplies to the families of the deceased, provided protection to the elder relations or, rare as it was, retired members.

Machar managed those things easily enough, while Maon managed the subject of war. At least, they did through Macrath's instructions.

Shane, June, and Talia were still grieving for their sister, and Thornback was still silent in the aftermath of Lieutenant Ebs' death.

The return had been sad. Raga and the eight guards left at Mungan's house had come forward, only to see the defeated host and to their horror, the bodies of the fallen.Ben, who had not bothered to clean the blood off him, had carried his shillelagh on one shoulder, leading Thornback with his free paw. The badger's eyes had been red from weeping.

Raga's nose had wrinkled in disgust at the raccoon's appearance, and stepped forward to take Thornback upstairs.

"I suppose you couldn't have made an effort to look better than this."

Ben had pointed his shillelagh at the Warrior mouse, "This is the reality of war: if you had been there, you little shit, you might have improved your look to something like this."

All had grown silent at the confrontation. Raga and Ben, the opposite ends of the scale, were now butting heads.

Raga had flushed with anger, "I have been protecting the innocent in this war, which is more than I can say of a mercenary such as yourself.' He glanced at Mungan's corpse, at Macrath, and back to Ben, 'I suppose you were hired to fight."

Ben shrugged, "I fought for a price, so now I get what is owed."

But he turned to Macrath, "I'll be expecting four hundred seventy votes my way then, Macrath?"

Macrath paused, and nodded, "Aye. Ten per notch, that's wot me father agreed."

The elections would be held in a few weeks, so Ben had plenty of time to plan out his campaign.

The problem was that it was difficult to walk through the entire city unnoticed. Some regions of the city would kill you if you even took three paces into their lane. Ben had been ambushed a few times, but the attackers had always fled with broken bones slowing them down. Ben was smart enough not to cause another gang war.

Macrath was not so smart. He was planning a massive return to power, recruiting more hares from the dozens of immigrants who came in every week or so. He wanted to send assassins against Taskill's lieutenants, even Taskill himself. It took the persuasions of the whole Black Rabbits' council to hold him down.

One day, all of a sudden at breakfast, Thornback spoke,

"I want to go into the mountains."

All stared at him, most in disbelief. Ben, however, spoke mildly, "When?"

"As soon as possible: I want to find the descendants of Fergus."

Only Maon knew what he was talking about. Macrath burst into laughter, "Wot are ye talkin' aboot, Thorn? Fergus died years ago in those moontains, aloon and undiscovered."

"A group of young hares went looking for him once, never to be seen again. I'm gambling that they found him, and decided to stay with him in the mountains."

Maon stood up, "Ah'm comin' with ye."

"I'm in." Jander raised a hand as though voting.

Macrath stared at his brother, "We need ye here, Maon. Ye can't just leave."

"Macrath, if we can find Fergus' hiding place in the mountains, then we could end the gang wars for good, and return the kings to their place once and for all."

In the end, Macrath allowed Maon to go with Thornback, Jander, Skipper, Log a Log Gunnar, and ten shrews into the mountains. Macrath supplied them with stores, coats, and an escort of ten hares to the end of the city.

The procession went through the outskirts of the city. Some heads turned at the sight, but no questions were asked. Due to a need for secrecy, only a few hares saw them.

Thornback wished Ben had come too. The raccoon would have been useful with survival skills in the wilderness. The raccoon had barely even said goodbye to the badger. Raga had snorted, telling Thornback not to get too attached to such a beast, but Thornback could not help but admire and like Ben.

Soon, beasts were tightening their parkas at the cold winds. The whiteness of the mountains were so bright in the sun it was almost blinding.

Thornback trudged forward, pushing his way through with his spear. Jander strode on top of the snow, as if the light-footed squirrel were walking on branches in his old forests. Log a Log and the shrews trudged along in the wake of the bigger creatures; they were partially protected from the wind by the wall of snow that went up to the heads.

It truly was a magnificent view of the mountains. The peaks rose to high points, blanketed by snow. The sky was an azure blue, dotted with fluffy clouds.

"Et woan't stay this way." Maon knew of the Highlands and how good weather could disappear quickly, "Ah'll bet that tomorrow es gonna be a bezoomny miserable day."

The party trekked on through the rising levels of snow. None complained, wanting to spare their breath in the face of a harsh climb.

However, Log a Log spoke up, "Do you know where you're going?"

Maon had brought an ancient text that was a diary of Fergus'. The text had been the same one that had guided the youth group after Fergus in the first place.

It spoke of a long trek into the mountains, in a direct north-west path.

However, all were sure that there was more to it than that, for the text had been obscure, and if Fergus had been that easy to track, then surely more would have found him?

The party decided to trek north-west anyway, in the hope that something would be noticed by then.

It was at the end of the first day, that Thornback huddled close to a meagre flame in a makeshift tent. The smoke made his eyesight blurry, but they did not want to risk the fire going out. The wind had picked up again, so they were not taking chances.

Skipper and Jander huddled together, bound by the squirrel's bushy tail. The Gousim shrews, for perhaps the first time in their history, were huddled as close as possible to each other, no one saying a thing.

Maon looked at the dark sky, "The cloods are gatherin'. Et's gonna be a hard journey."

He was right. The next day, the clouds darkened the sky to a heavy grey. The wind was surprisingly light, but Maon stated stoically that this was how it always started.

At one point, Thornback slipped in the snow. At once, Maon was at his side, helping him up.

"Careful, Thorn. Ef we're not careful, we'll start an avalanche."

So the rest of the day was spent in a bitter silence, as the wind began to pick up. It was maddening to have to almost close your eyes and then be expected to walk forward. For the shrews, it was unbearable, and grumblings grew.

At one point, they had reached the top of a slight slope, and it was then that Thornback looked around. He stared at the trail they had made, and commented drily, "It's a long way we've come."

He could no longer see the city. Nor could he see anything else, apart from mountains, snow, rocks, and ice.

He suddenly wished that Ebs was here. That brought fresh tears to his eyes. Over the last two days, he had been wearied down with marching, so he could not think much, but he had dreamed of Ebs, and woke up feeling miserable.

Shane and his remaining two sisters were worse off, he knew. He wondered what they were doing now, even as he slipped along through ice and snow.

Another day passed. The day had been worse, a blizzard forming at around midday, or so they guessed. Shrews had complained, stating that they would freeze to death. Despair was starting to creep up, especially as the way got even steeper. Jander was often in front, observing the terrain in front of the procession.

On the fourth day, it was the same thing all over again. The blizzard wore at everyone's coats and nerves. It was infuriatingly bad, and they all knew it.

Thornback's black stripe had turned white from the cold, "Where are we going, Jander?" He called to the squirrel over the howl of the wind.

"I don't know! It looks like some slope heading down!"

Maon shivered, "Guid. We need to get doon to ground level afore we freeze."

They trudged on, Jander in the fore.Thornback's mind was growing numb with the despair and weariness of the journey. Why oh why had he done this? It was obvious to him now that Fergus had died in these unforgiving mountains.

Suddenly, Jander's spear butt, which he used to stamp out a path in front of him, was jabbed in the worst place possible.

They were overlooking a descent of several hundred feet. One wrong step, and they were goners.

Now the one thing that could kill them all instantly had begun-an avalanche.

Thornback shrieked at the others as the snow and ice began to slide from under his feet. Above them, there was a cracking sound and snow from above began to slide downwards.

Jander was quicker than the others. Grabbing Log a Log, he pressed them both against the side of the mountain path. Skipper grabbed two other shrews and hurried forward after Jander.

Thornback was numb with horror. What could he possibly do against this awesome display of nature? 'Just give up, and it will end' a little voice shrieked in his mind.

Suddenly, a hand grabbed his shoulder. Forced back into reality, the badger grabbed his spear, seeing a wedge.

He jammed his spear into the wedge, applying all his weight to the ground, Maon beside him doing the same.

Snow cascaded down, heavier than stone, it seemed. A shrew shrieked a death cry, and Thornback realised he too was screaming. Time seemed to slow down as he began to lack air to breathe. Suddenly, he realized that he was completely buried, and he and Maon were dying. With his last effort, he thrust his spear upwards in an attempt to break the cover, and then the world went black.