28: Prisoner

28: Prisoner

Melanda groaned. She could feel consciousness slowly seeping back into her body and with it came pain. Terrible pain. Her head felt like it was splitting in half. Without stirring, the young squirrelmaid could feel a large bump on the back of her head.

Gradually the past events sifted back into her memory. She remembered the cave, remembered examining that one carving. Then everything had gone black. She guessed that somebeast had struck her over the head, and she mentally berated herself for letting her guard down.

Without opening her eyes, Melanda tried to take stock of her surroundings. She was laying on something somewhat soft, perhaps straw or dry grass. It wasn't fresh, judging by the musty odor that emanated from it. The air felt close, signaling a small room or building. The squirrelmaid could hear breathing close by. Then something damp touched her forehead, moving gently across her face. Melanda decided that this was a friend, not an enemy, considering the way they were treating her.

Curiosity overcame her thoughts of caution. Opening one eye slowly, she found herself in a small, windowless chamber. The light was dim, but by that faint light she saw the creature sitting next to her. A strange mixture of thoughts, the least of them not being fear, rushed through her mind.

It was a squirrel like herself, but there the similarities ended. This creature was grotesquely twisted, the spine curving painfully to one side. The shoulders were off-kilter, one being almost a pawswidth higher then the other. The creature was also stunted, being much shorter then it should have been. There was something strange about his face, but Melanda couldn't tell what it was in the dim light.

The young squirrelmaid was about to jerk away from this misshapen creature's paw, which was bathing her face with a ragged piece of cloth, when the creature spoke. To Melanda's shock, the voice was not that of an old hag, but that of a young male; friendly, cheerful, and full of life. "So you finally woke up? Those vermin knocked you out pretty well, said you've been out for two days. Huh, 'tis a good thing I suppose, since you only arrived here a short while ago."

Melanda stared into the squirrel's eyes for a long moment, unable to speak from shock. Finally, questions found their way to her tongue, and she found her voice. "Where am I?"

The creature smiled. Melanda was astonished at the friendliness in his manner. "You're in the third slave house in the stronghold of Valamarus. I'm Meekayael."

Melanda sat up. "I'm Melanda. Tell me, how did you come to be so . . ." She trailed off, but Meekayael understood what she meant to say. He gestured to his misshapen body, shrugging. "I was born like this, I suppose. I can't remember a time that I wasn't like this."

Melanda felt a growing pity for Meekayael. "Does it . . . hurt?"

He nodded. "Aye, it does. I've accepted it as my fate, and I've learned to ignore the pain most of the time." His face looked troubled for a brief moment, but it passed.

Melanda was about to continue the conversation when she heard pawsteps. The next moment the door of the tiny chamber was flung open, revealing three vermin, all with cruel sneers on their faces. The apparent leader, a rat, snarled at Meekayael, "What'r ya doin' 'ere? Git back t' yer cell!"

Meekayael shrank back in fear. Melanda felt a rush of anger. She snarled back at the rat, "Go and boil your ears, mangy brute!"

The rat's eyes flamed. He darted forward and grabbed Melanda by her habit, snapping an order to his two followers. "Git out th' cuffs. This'n needs ta be delivered in style!"

The pair, a ferret and a stoat, entered the tiny room, each carrying a pair of manacles. Melanda tried to fight them as they fastened them around her fore and footpaws, but the rat threw her down and pressed a dagger against her chin, growling, "One wrong move, mizzie, an' yer dead!"

Once she was firmly secure, the trio forced Melanda upright. The shackles on her footpaws were held together by a chain, which was just long enough for her to take slow, shuffling steps. The ferret and stoat prodded her forward with their blades while the big rat called to a nearby vermin, "Git dat snivelin' slave back t' 'is cell. Move it!"

Melanda managed to glance over her shoulder at Meekayael as the guard dragged him out. The young squirrel looked calm, composed, as if this happened every day. It made Melanda shudder. What was the treatment of goodbeasts it this place?

She soon found out.

††

Melanda found herself in a place not unlike Redwall's Great Hall but it was much more imposing. The walls were covered with tapestries and wall hangings that depicted all manner of evil deeds. At one end of the huge hall was a kind of dais, with a throne carved out of solid stone resting at its highest point. This throne was flanked by six guards, three on each side and upon it sat a beast so large and powerful that it was evident at once that he was the ruler of this evil place.

The huge grey and tan-striped wildcat was garbed in only a chain mail tunic of iron, with a snakeskin belt about his waist. Into this was thrust a mace and chain, the iron ball at the end of the chain bristling with lethal spikes. A necklace of teeth hung about the wildcat's neck, and his eyes glittered cruelly over his deadly, snow-white fangs. Upon his brow rested a simple crown of bone, set with emeralds and rubies. This was Malus Deathclaw, Rexamor of the southeastern woodlands!

The squirrelmaid was forced to kneel before the wildcat. Her three escorts stood to attention before their Rexamor. For several moments, silence reigned in the massive hall.

Then Malus stood. Melanda shuddered as he spoke with a voice that echoed and reechoed through the hall. "Why do you bring this treemouse before me, Feelsh?" He emphasized the word "treemouse," spitting it out with revulsion and distaste. Melanda suddenly wanted to rake her claws across his face.

Feelsh, the ratguard beside the squirrelmaid replied in a cowed voice. "O Mighty One, dis is a new slave dat we brought afore ya for judgment."

The monstrous wildcat stood and approached Melanda. A cold shiver ran down the squirrelmaid's spine as he flexed his claws, purring in a dangerously soft voice, "Two choices are open to you, treemouse. Join my horde and swear allegiance to me, fighting alongside me and my creatures. Or, you could choose the life of a slave, bending your back to the lash. Which will it be?"

Melanda curled her lip, openly showing her distain of the wildcat. "Why would I serve one who only lives for evil? I will never serve you, cowardly kitten!"

Malus' eyes blazed, but otherwise he remained impassive. He only motioned to the three guards, dismissing them with a few words. "Take her away; you know what to do."

The three saluted. Next moment Melanda was unceremoniously grabbed and dragged away to a side chamber. The squirrelmaid struggled, but the ferret guard kicked her viciously in the ribs, knocking the wind from her.

A vixen and a ratwife met them in the chamber. As her three guards dropped her to the floor, Melanda noticed two things. One was that a table stood in the middle of the room, covered with what looked like a tangled pile of rope. The other was that the vixen had a damp rag in her paw.

Before she could react, Melanda's guards pinned her to the floor. The ratwife and the vixen pressed the rag to the squirrelmaid's nose. Instantly, Melanda felt herself going limp. Within moments she was in a kind of stupor, not unconscious, but unable to do anything. She watched in horror as the group of vermin proceeded gleefully with their task.

The rat Feelsh picked up the pile of tangled rope, which Melanda could now see was a network of straps cunningly fastened together. Feelsh examined the set he had chosen and motioned to the other four, rasping, "Stan' 'er up. Querktail, ya 'elp me git dis on 'er."

Melanda was roughly jostled upright. She watched in helpless horror as Feelsh and Querktail, the ratwife, fastened the network of straps round her body. Two straps crisscrossed each other across her chest, connecting to a strap at her neck and a strap at her waist. Two more crisscrossing straps were fastened across her back. She tried to reach back and strike the ratwife, who was fastening the straps firmly, but the vixen held the rag to the squirrelmaid's muzzle again, forcing her back into the semiconscious stupor.

Feelsh went back to the table, picking up the other web of straps; it was quickly identifiable as a halter of sorts. He approached Melanda, holding it against her head. The rat forced the back strap of the halter over the squirrelmaid's ears, arranging it so that the entire thing fitted securely against her skull. Taking two straps that had been set apart from the others, he fastened them to the halter, one against the back of her head, and the other under her chin. Then he attached them to the strap that fitted loosely against her neck, effectively securing the halter on her head.

The five vermin surveyed their work. The vixen nodded toward Feelsh. "Yew goin' ta take 'er back ter th' rows?"

Feelsh nodded. "Ya. C'mon, yew two."

Melanda was picked up again by her three guards. The vixen held up a paw. "Wait." She picked up another rag, pressing it under Melanda's nose as before. This rag smelled faintly of rotten leaves, and Melanda instantly passed out.

She awoke in another one of the tiny, windowless rooms. A pile of straw was under her, but she ignored it for the moment. Her mind fast clearing, she inspected the harness and halter. They were firm, just loose enough not to be painful, but far too tight for there to be any chance of slipping out of them. Melanda tugged angrily at the halter. She felt like some dumb beast, being treated like this.

Then she had a horrible shock. The halter and harness were not made of grass rope, or of leather, as she had thought. The squirrelmaid shuddered as the realization struck her.

They were made of fur.

Melanda tore at her strange bonds, shuddering as she thought of the creatures who had died to make this repulsive thing. Each one of the individual hairs in her halter seemed to dig into her face. She tried to lean down and bite one of the straps on her chest, but the single strap on the back of her head prevented her from doing so.

Frustration, loneliness, weariness, and the stark realization of her utterly hopeless position caused Melanda to break down. She flopped down on the straw, tears flowing from her eyes, as, for the first time since her Dibbunhood, she gave herself over to uncontrollable sobbing.


Poor Melanda! She's really having a hard time, isn't she!

The ages of the new characters:

Meekayael 18 – 20

Malus 35 – 37

Feelsh 40 – 45

Querktail – 45 - 50

Can anyone see the Latin words I threw in here?

Just in case anyone was confused with that harness and halter thing, I'll clarify here. They look like rope, but they're made of animal fur (mice, squirrels, moles, otters, vermin, etc.). For the halter, just try to imagine a horse's halter shrunk and put on a squirrel. It's not loosely fitting, but presses lightly against the skin, on firmly enough that it won't come off without being cut.

The harness has two "body loops," one around the waist, and another around the neck. The waist one is snug, but the neck one is loose, so that it flops over the shoulders. A pair of straps forms an X across the chest, fastened to these two body loops. That also goes for the back; there's another X there.

The halter and harness are connected by two straps. One is fastened to the rear strap of the halter to the neck body loop, preventing the beast wearing it from getting their chin against their chest. The other is shorter, running from the chinstrap of the halter to the neck body loop of the harness. This keeps the wearer from raising their head fully.

If this still sounds confusing, e-mail me. I'll try to clarify.

Again, don't forget the poll! :-)

Foeseeker