Author Note:
Review responses:
Waycaster: Well I think it's a good quote all the same. :-D Yes. About the explaining things at the last second… Now that you say that, I notice that myself. I'll be sure to edit that when I finally get around to polishing TGW.
Highwing: Goodness! Seven reviews! I'll PM you replies to your reviews. It'll probably be a while until you catch up and read this, but thank you for reviews!
The Grey Coincidence: Irony can be a beautiful thing sometimes. Very rarely is it fortunate, but hey, at least this time it panned out well for the good guys. XD
As for Slisk's crew, don't worry, I hadn't forgotten them. I want to go back and add in their fate in the same chapter that Slisk dies in.
Lol. You're definitely right about Deathclaw. XD
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VERMIN CAMP
The combined force of otters and hares had retreated into Salamandastron before the vermin army could assemble and launch a counter attack. Baro had been absolutely positive that there would've been no need for his troops to form into ranks before the duel. Besides, the wolverine had reasoned, the woodlanders wouldn't have gone on with the duel if they thought that there would be a chance for the slightest bit of trickery on his side. A full assembly of armored and battle-ready troops would have appeared just a little too suspicious, Baro had thought.
After the emperor had had time to gather his wits, he ordered his snowlander archers to pin down the hares on the crater.
Shedding himself of his dented armor, the wolverine gathered a group of his commanders and disappeared, telling Hookarm and Blue-Eyes that he would be back momentarily.
Hookarm decided that waiting in a stuffy tent wasn't going to work anymore. Instead, he and Blue-Eyes walked through and inspected the camp. Many of the vermin soldiers were sweating heavily in their armor. They had expected to be called to battle, and were confused when the order had never come.
"Any idea where his emperorship ran off to?" Hookarm asked Blue-Eyes as they walked side by side.
"No need to worry, Hookarm," the weasel replied, his voice smooth as ever, "One of my informants told me that Baro's minions have been working on a project to the south of the camp. Maybe he went to add a little fire under his engineers' tails to make them finish their job faster – whatever it may be, that is."
"Ye mean ye don't know?" Hookarm scoffed. "Ye make it sound like ye're supposed t' be all knowin'."
"Hmm… All knowing would be taking it a bit too far, perhaps… – Almost, but not quite." The weasel smiled, pulling out his rapier and swinging it back and forth skillfully as he continued walking. "Baro is beginning to worry me…" The weasel's eyes were dark and piercing as he glanced over sideways at Hookarm. "Just in case things go wrong, I think I'll take a few precautions."
The searat captain clapped his companion on the shoulder with a heavy paw. "Good fer ye, matey! I always knew ye'd come up with a backup plan. What kind of 'precautions' are ye taken exactly?"
"Not so loud." The weasel furrowed his eyebrows close together. "I'll take care of them myself. You keep an eye on Baro and let me know when he gets back. I'm going to drop by our hostages and pay them a visit."
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This is bad. This is really, really, bad!
When Charlie woke up, it didn't take him long to realize that something very wrong must have happened to him. His paws were tied in front of him, and he was in one of the vermin's tents. Hearing the sound of guards talking just outside, he concluded that things did not look good.
He slowly sat up, aware of a pounding pain in his head, and glanced around.
The small tent was completely empty. The sandy floor was hard and uncomfortable, and Charlie's mouth was dry from the heat. His tongue had swollen. With his headache added to that, he felt absolutely miserable.
His long ears pricked up as he heard scuffling from outside the tent, along with the sound of a very familiar voice protesting loudly.
"I say, you rotters, get your bloody paws off of me! I'm not some bally two-season old leveret who can barely walk!"
The tent entrance opened and Lagworth's body was shoved in. The big cadet's paws were also tied in front of him as well.
"Lagworth? What in celery's name is going on? Boy, am I glad to see your familiar face! Where –" The smaller hare suddenly broke off as memories came flooding back to him.
"This is your fault! What on earth were you jolly-well thinking? You traitor! You good for nothing, lying son of a–"
"Oh, shut up." Lagworth kicked a pawful of sand toward him. Though Lagworth was trying to keep an irritated demeanor, Charlie could see confusion and guilt in his eyes. "You wouldn't understand." The big hare continued, sitting on the ground with a huff. "Nobeast ever understands."
He sighed and closed his eyes as Charlie kept up a steady tirade of anger.
"What do you mean 'I wouldn't understand'? Your stupid revenge got us both in trouble! How did the bloomin' vermin even nab us in the first place?"
"What does it bally-well matter? We're here, aren't we?"
A long silence followed Lagworth's words.
What seemed like many hours later, the two hares heard sounds of the vermin army outside the tent grabbing their weapons and yelling out orders and commands.
"I wonder what those blinking cads are up to now. Maybe preparing for a battle?" Charlie suddenly gasped as he had a thought. "Maybe my father and Lord Rockfur are leading an attack to rescue us!"
"Maybe." Lagworth sounded unsure. "My memory seemed kinda fuzzy, but I think that wolverine chap was calling for a duel – or some balderdash like that."
Charlie shot him a glare. "Well that's helpful," he said sarcastically.
Lagworth shrugged. "Like I said, I can't remember."
They both looked over as Blue-Eyes' sleek figure suddenly walked into the tent, followed by two burly rat guards covered with tattoos.
The tall weasel nodded his head and pointed a claw at the two bound cadets. "Take these two to the outer edge of the camp and keep them guarded," he addressed the two vermin accompanying him, "And try to be subtle. I don't want Emperor Baro to know anything about this if I can help it."
The two large rats grabbed Charlie and Lagworth and, following Blue-Eyes, frog marched them through the camp until they came to a larger-than-usual dune – Jagged rocks randomly poking out from its sandy surface.
Blue-Eyes' eyes practically burned holes through the two rats when he stopped and turned toward them.
"Listen carefully." The weasel kept his voice low. "Stay here and don't let anybeast touch these two. If they escape, or if so much as a patch of their fur is harmed, I'll have you both skinned and roasted alive with oil."
The weasel spoke in such a matter-of-fact way, that it was hard to tell if he was serious or not. However, his hard gaze hinted that he was a beast that was true to his word. His threats weren't to be taken lightly.
"Aye sir!" One of the rats replied cheerfully, smiling. "We'll take care o' 'em like they were our own. Won't we, matey?" he nudged his companion in the ribs – who nodded enthusiastically.
"You'd better." Blue-Eyes sniffed. "You're lives do depend on it after all."
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SALAMANDASTRON'S NORTH SHORE
Baglarr's otters walked along the outside of the company, acting as the vanguard. Tragg, Tilda, and Flugg were placed in the middle along with the other newly-freed woodlanders. As they got closer and closer to Salamandastron, their hopes began to rise. They were looking forward to a good meal in the safety of one of the most heavily guarded fortresses in the Lands.
It was by mere chance that Tragg happened to spot Bertvar and his slavers. The young shrew had turned his head idly as he scratched at an itch on his shoulder. His jaw dropped open with horror as his eyes caught sight of the small vermin army close on their heels. They had appeared to come out of nowhere, and were rapidly closing the distance between the two groups.
"It's Bertvar!"
More and more beasts started yelling as they too say the fast-approaching vermin. The woodlanders began to panic as they tried to figure out what to do.
"It's them! We're doomed!"
"We'll be made slaves again!"
Baglarr and his otter warriors quickly tried to calm them down with words of encouragement.
"Keep calm! If we keep our heads cool we'll stand a better chance!" Baglarr called out, pointing toward the form of the mountain fortress. "We're so close! We'll be safe soon! Hurry! Th' vermin won't dare follow us once we reach th' base of th' mountain!"
A small mouse lad in front of Tragg tripped, falling face first on the sandy ground. Tragg helped him up onto his footpaws, coaxing him on. "Come on, little fella. We're almost there!"
"I– I can't do it!" The small creature panted, tears running down his terrified face. He clutched Tragg's arm. "P-please don't leave me! Don't let the bad beasts get me!"
Tragg grunted as he lifted the mouse onto his shoulders. The lad was nothing but skin and bones – making Tragg's job of carrying him easier.
I guess being starved does that to a beast…
"Don't worry," Tragg said, trying to comfort himself as much as the young rodent, "I won't let 'em get ye." Taking a quick glance behind him, he added silently to himself, Or I'll die trying.
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Bertvar drove his slavers on relentlessly, trying to eat up the distance between them and their former slaves.
"Come on, you lazy lot! My grannie could move faster than the likes of you!"
The wolf gazed ahead and saw that the otters and other woodlanders had picked up their pace dramatically. It was obvious that they had seen them. Bertvar muttered a curse under his breath then continued to urge his beasts on to greater speed.
"We can't let them reach the mountain! Move those footpaws! One, two! One, two!"
Bertvar, after a brief calculation, finally realized that his troop wouldn't be able to catch up the woodlanders in time. Days of rowing, marching, and guarding slaves late into the night had taken their toll on the vermin. The wolf knew he'd have to relent if he didn't want a mutiny on his paws.
Hellgates! But we are so close. The wolf snorted. Those blasted otters! Why did they have to show up? Things would've gone a lot easier if they hadn't meddled into things.
Bertvar shouted for his slavers to come to halt.
Some dropped to the ground as they tried to catch their breath.
Furgly and Grunner walked up to their master, the former scratching his head, showing his confusion.
"Why didn't we keep going?" Furgly asked. "We could've caught 'em!"
"We most likely would've, but then," Bertvar replied, "we'd practically be in Salamandastron's shadow. If the Badger Lord sent out his hares after us, we'd be in serious trouble."
"Oh… Yeah, that makes sense. So, uh, what do we do now? Go back home?"
"No! I'm not going to return empty-pawed from all of this!" Bertvar shook his head and glanced around. "Grunner, I want you to pick out some scouts and check out the surrounding area. We'll regroup over there." He indicated a group of dunes covered with dying dry bushes. "It's likely that there should be some villages or towns nearby. After all, why wouldn't there be? Living right beside The Long Patrol would surely have the benefits of protection and the like. We'll see if we can pick up some new slaves up, then cut and run. Now go."
The weasel saluted. "Be back in a jiff, Boss!"
By the time Bertvar and his slavers had hidden themselves behind the dunes, Grunner and his paw-picked scouts had returned – along with a white-furred ermine in their possession.
"We found this one spying on us." Grunner poked the ermine with the butt of his spear. "Pretty silent fellow. He wouldn't answer our questions. He just demanded we'd take him to our boss."
Bertvar frowned and looked down at the captive. "Is that so? Well here I am. And who exactly are you?"
The ermine had a certain air of confidence about him. He met the much larger creature's gaze without flinching. "I'm a captain in Emperor Baro Steelclaws' service. The rest of my patrol has probably already reported back tae him by now. If anything happens tae me, ye can bet your hide that he'll have your skins for rugs."
Bertvar noted that the ermine had a bit of a northern accent. The wolf guessed that he was a snowlander of some sort. "Where is your master exactly?"
"We are everywhere. My master's forces number the leaves in an autumn gale. Salamandastron will fall first, then the Lands. It would only be by his great mercy that you would walk away from here alive."
This could be the chance I've been waiting for. Bertvar realized that if a horde was launching an assault on a place as strong as Salamandastron, it would mean that they would need every soldier they could get. And if the price was right… Yes, things would brighten up considerably.
"Well, captain, how would you feel about escorting me to your master? I think I'd like to meet with him."
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SALAMANDASTRON
The mountain's large gates closed with a mighty boom once the last of the hares filed into Salamandastron – And not a moment too soon. Baro and his forces had almost caught up with the fleeing woodlanders. Askarr and Colonel Brewster barked out orders and rallied the archers and slingers to their posts.
"Where the bloody fur has His Lordship gone?" Brewster muttered to himself. He hadn't seen Rockfur ever since they had gotten back. After he checked to make sure that the vermin horde had been successfully driven back, the colonel left the Long Patrollers in the other officers' care while he went to search for Lord Rockfur.
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Lord Rockfur stared up at the Forge Room ceiling, his expression blank. He was stretched out on his bed with his arms folded over his chest. The bandages on his arm had fallen off, leaving the wound exposed.
He didn't flinch or move so much as a hair as the door to the Forge Room creaked open.
"Sah?" Colonel Brewster's head poked in. Hearing no response whatsoever, the hare sighed and entered, closing the door behind him. "We laid Urthblaze's body in one of the rooms in the lower levels. When this is all over, we'll give him a proper funeral worthy of his sacrifice." Brewster's face was full of concern. "Are… Are you going to be okay, Sah?"
"It was my fault." The four, simple words rumbled from the badger's chest like a muted thunder. Rockfur's face was totally still, seemingly devoid of emotion.
"I just… I really thought that it my destiny." He went on. "After this…this mess was figured out, I'd retire and he'd become the new Badger Lord. I–I even made him a brand new suit of armor. I…" He blinked as tears fell from his eyes. "I could just imagine the surprised look on his face when he would see it. A-And I'd tell him how proud I was of him. It– it wasn't supposed to end like this. Not him. It should've been me. It's…It's my fault."
Colonel Brewster moved over to him and clasped the Badger Lord's massive shoulder with a surprisingly strong paw. "It was not your fault, M'lord. What do you think Urthblaze would say –"
"Urthblaze is dead!" Rockfur shouted, pushing the old colonel away from him. "Don't feed me any of this dung about how he would've wanted me to 'go on with my life' or anything like that! Urthblaze. Is. Dead!"
The old warrior bowed his head forward and wept, tears falling onto his lap.
After a long while, he seemed to have calmed down somewhat and looked back up. Brewster could see the raw pain and sorrow in Rockfur's eyes.
"I'm sorry, Colonel." Rockfur brushed a paw across his face. The action itself seemed to drain what little strength he had left from him. "I know that I need to be strong. I need to be the mighty, steadfast leader of the mountain – just like all my predecessors. But, hellgates, it's hard."
Brewster sat down beside the badger. He hesitated for a brief moment, then, gathering his courage, pressed on. "Do you remember when my wife died, Sire? Do you remember all of the things you said when you tried to comfort me? I say, Sah, you tried to use every trick in the bally book, and yet still I only pushed everybeast away – even you." The hare closed his eyes and sighed. "Well, I have to say, the words themselves didn't do a lick of good. Not a bit. Do you know what matter the most to me, even though I didn't even realize it at the time?"
"What?"
"You stuck by me, through thick and thin, and you wouldn't give up, no matter how much I would beat myself up. I only want to do the same for you. I'm going to stick by you no matter what."
The Badger Lord slowly shook his head. "What did I ever do to deserve a friend like you, Brewster?"
The colonel's mouth split into a grin. "Oh, pish-posh, think nothing of it, M'lord. Wot wot. You set me up with the love of my life. Without you, I never would've married and had Charlie as a son. I will always be in your debt, sah."
"And I in yours," Rockfur replied. The badger stood up. "You're right. I'll get Charlie and Lagworth back, Brewster. It's what Urthblaze would've wanted." His eyes narrowed as they seemed to come alive with a burning flame. A flame that had had almost been on the verge of dying, yet had been rekindled. "We will get them back. And that wolverine will pay for what he has done."