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Chapter 28. Wretched, Meritorious B

by Kriley

To say Gloria seemed to be in a bad mood as Wazzock left the room was akin to saying that being stabbed in the stomach was just a wee bit uncomfortable.

Normally, Kriley would have wanted nothing to do with the hook-pawed stoat, including, but not limited to, standing in the same room as her. But this time, an odd sense of calm filled him, even as the Stoatorian Guard captain paced about in the highest of bad humors, fixing them all with a glare that could have unseated an adder.

"Well, then," she snarled, slashing the air as she went. "Which of ye slack-jawed, brine-encrusted thick-heads is the one in charge?"

Kriley quite graciously pointed to Soriss. "That would be him, Miss Ruston."

The monitor would have likely sent him a truly rotten look, had he not been faced by Gloria. The stoat seemed unimpressed, her glance having wandered just past jaundiced and then tumbled into a river of acid.

"Hmph!" She snorted. "A giant lump of a lizard. Is that the best yer lot can come up with? Not that I'm surprised, seeing as yer captain is a right addlepated toad who'd go hopping off after a butterfly." She jabbed at Soriss' chest with her hook. "What's yer name, my dear?"

The monitor gulped and spluttered something that could have had an "S" in there somewhere.

"What's the matter, can't understand Vulpinsulan?" Gloria grit. "I asked yer name, and if ye'd like t'remain one first mate instead of several, then ye'll answer me."

"Sssoriss."

"Soriss what, sir?" she demanded.

"S-Ssoriss, Ma'am."

"Better," Gloria said with a twitch of the whiskers. "So, now that we've got that out of the way, time t'prove yer worth." She snorted and rolled her eyes. "As much as that is. We've already lost the chance t'snuff out captain in the Southern Army. So then, what's yer plan on keeping the rest of the foreign fops at bay, eh?"

Soriss blinked. And then blinked some more. Monitors, Kriley noticed, weren't quite as good as showing pain or fear like furred beast were, and yet the blankness of his expression seemed an entire book on the subject of helpless bewilderment. A book that the rat vaguely looked forward to witness having its pages ripped out and its spine broken.
At length, he opened his mouth. "Y-you ssee, I, um... perhapsss it'ss besst if we..."

Gloria sneered, whirling away from Soriss. "Hmph! I knew I shouldn't have actually expected any real help. But at least ye could give me more than slack-jawed staring an' blubberin'!"

Kriley cleared his throat before he could stop himself. "Pardon me, Miss Ruston, but I believe the best course of action would be to set up traps for the invaders."

"Is that right." Gloria sniffed. "And who are you, m'four-eyed ratty?"

The rat resisted the urge to adjust his glasses, rooted to the spot as the stoat prowled toward him. "Kriley Clover, Miss." Unfortunately, he hadn't been able to keep the squeak from his voice.

"Oh? I knew a Kriley Clover once," Gloria said. "Or maybe he was a Carl. Anyway, runty little rat a bit like you. Can't stand those Clovers," she went on, expression dark. "Think they're posh, but ye've got t'be mad t'want anything t'do with the Navy."

"Actually," Kriley said, stepping back just a smidge, "that was me." He winced at the memories of formal dinners and getting his fur ruffled one too many…

Gloria curled her lip. "Ye expect me t'believe that tripe? The son of Lord Clover serving under a witless lizard who can't speak more than one word and an even more witless rat who thinks that running after idiot maids with a mop is more important than protecting our Imperium, as a mere…" She paused.

"Bosun."

"As a mere bosun?"

Kriley merely gave the smallest of nods, and Gloria scowled. "Right, then. What are the colors of House Clover?"

"Purple and crimson."

Gloria's glower deepened. "When is the yearly Discussions of Hurting Thinges on Land and Sea?"

"Dismember the Eighth."

"Expect ye'd know the Marquis' favorite dessert, then?"

"Cuttlefish and rhubarb pie."

"Aye." Gloria rubbed the hook against her chin, eyewhiskers furrowed. "I always said he awful taste."

A curious look crossed the stoat's face. Striding over, she ruffled the rat's head-fur and nodded grudgingly as he twitched away. "Well, I s'pose it's ye under there after all, M'lord." As Kriley smoothed his fur back in place and tried to still his trembling tail, he noticed that Gloria didn't seem the least pleased at their reunion. He allowed the very faintest of grins to cross his face.

"Well, then," Gloria went on. "It would seem that Lord Clover brought up a good point. Traps." She scanned the Stormchaser crew with the penetrating glare of a bird of prey. "You there!"

The weasel she'd pointed to looked as if he'd swallowed a watermelon. "Y-yes, marm?"

"Come here."

He jogged over, and was given a boxed ear for his troubles. "Grk!"

Gloria sniffed. "Better. Now." She paced. "Any of ye know the slightest thing about setting up traps?"

Crewbeasts glanced toward one another, none particularly eager to be on the receiving end of Gloria's anger. Soriss raised a hesitant claw. "Ma'am, if I could venture a ssugesstion..."

Gloria arched an eyewhisker. "Oh? The esteemed first mate of the Stormchaser knows how t'do something other than attract flies? Well then, tell me what ye've in mind."

Kriley narrowed his eyes. This should be quite interesting.

Soriss's gaze hardened, and he straightened. "Catching fliesss isss my specialty, ma'am. We sshould treat them like inssectsss. Lure them in, give them reasson to charge - perhapsss a ssort of weaknesss. Only not," he quickly finished, quailing a little under her darkening glare. "Feign a broken wall or misssing troopsss. Ssweet honey will attract the inssectsss. And then..." He slapped the tip of his tail against the ground with a startling severity and a glimmer in his eye.

Hmph. Lucky that trapping insects is something you know. Kriley thought, crossing his arms.

Gloria nodded, but she wasn't fully satisfied until she had given the unfortunate weasel from earlier a kick to the shins.

"Fair enough. We need the mansion grounds and the surrounding houses booby-trapped as soon as possible. We'll have those Southies on their tails before they know it… Or else." This was punctuated by a grunt as she bopped the weasel on the head. "Now get going, the lot of ye. Oh, except for you, Lord Clover. I'd have a word with ye, if ye please."

Kriley stopped mid-step, and turned around. "Of course, Miss Ruston," he said, nodding courteously.

Gloria led Kriley down a lushly carpeted hall of portraits and shadows. The rat felt a chill ruffle his fur; it was all much like his own mansion, really.

"I must ask, M'Lord," Gloria said, eyes narrowed to slits, "why are ye a part of this ragtag crew? It's not fitting for a beastie yer station t'be anything under the rank of first mate. They've dandies like Jaufrisard as captain, for Fates' sake."

Don't remind me. Kriley's expression darkened, but in a moment it was gone and he shrugged. "Never wanted to go to sea in the first place, to be quite honest. But needed the experience." At least that's what they told me…

He could hear his father's voice booming in the recesses of his mind.

Kriley, m'boy! Can't have a proper son of mine cooped up in his chambers with ink on his paws while there's a world to be explorin'

But there was something else. There always had been. Flittering behind the innocent words like a ghost in the walls. Like they needed him to escape. But why? He had a vague notion, a remembrance of sounds, musical perhaps, and certain colours, but blurred like in a dream, or when he just woke up in the morning before he'd put on his glasses.

Had it just been a dream?

Feeling a sudden fright cling to his heart like ice off the mast, he spoke up. "Miss Ruston, have I always been… like this?"

The urgency trailed off, mist-like, when he realized just how ridiculous a question it was. And if he hadn't realized it himself, Gloria's expression was kind enough to remind him of it twice.

"Are ye daft? Been like what? Ye mean…" And here Kriley knew he'd made a mistake as a crooked smile wended its way across Gloria's face. "… like this?" She finished, holding on to Kriley's arm quite tenderly.

The rat froze. "Yes. Nowpleaseletgo."

"Ever since I knew ye." Gloria snickered. "Sorry, M'lord, but ye did ask."

Kriley took a moment to gather himself, and then nodded. Mustn't get worried over nothing. "Very well, then. And, between you and me, Milady, bosun-ship isn't quite as bad as it would seem." Only mostly as bad.

"I see." Gloria's narrowed gaze made it clear that she didn't. "Well, ye'd better go make sure the bloody fools ye kindly call a "crew" haven't killed themselves yet. If ye need anything, let me know."

Not able to resist, Gloria leaned over and gave Kriley a hefty slap on the back. It took him several minutes to regain control of his limbs.

--

Kriley gazed over the assembled beasts in front of the Ruston Manse, tail swishing against the frosted earth.

The sun in all it's early morning pinks and oranges had just peeked up over the horizon. Trip wires were being arranged. Crossbows positioned. Chamberpots retrieved. Oil warmed up. And only two beasts had injured themselves. Despite the fact that Wazzock and Sal were still missing, things were going unusually swimmingly.

He was about to check up on Sunyl and the other beasts around Zann's Backyard when he heard somebeast from behind.

"So, Lord Clover, is it? Who'd have known? Bad luck about th'whole first mate thing."

Kriley's left ear twitched, but he did not turn his head. "Hullo, Jibfang. If you've got time to chat with me, you've got time to work."

"Stow it, mate," the second mate continued, his voice silky-soft. "We both know you've got to be sore about it, and we both know you'd be a better first mate than that sorry scalebag."

The bosun acted as if he hadn't heard, and yet he sought out Soriss. Ah, there he is. The monitor was helping several other crewbeasts chip away at the frozen earth. He snorted.

"You know who you're talking to?" he asked, lips scarcely moving. "I'm not Flaxeye. The punishment for murder is severe, and I wouldn't want to have to subject a good beast like you to it." The rat was against killing. Even if he found the lizard an unlikely leader, he wouldn't want to see him dead. And he wanted blood on his paws just as much as he wanted it on Jibfang's.

"Who said anything about murder?" the weasel whispered. "With all these traps around, accidents are bound to happen. A broken leg, and even Cap'n will see that he ain't fit to lead. Lizard'll be back to cookin', and you'll be first mate. Savvy?"

Kriley frowned; it did make sense. He doubted good will was the only thing on Jibfang's mind, but he was only doing what was in the crew's best interest.

"Right, then." Kriley said. "What have you got in mind?"