Hi everyone! I hope everyone is enjoying the story so far! Now that I'm halfway through (there's plenty more, don't worry!) I'm curious to hear who your favorite characters are out of my OCs. I've been thinking, if they are well received, I might do a prequel or sequel to this fanfic. But I want to know what you guys think and if you would want to see them again.
And thank you, thank you! to Shellycat, Maxx, and Leon for taking the time to read my fanfic and leave reviews. Your awesome comments give me the confidence and desire to keep going with this!
Happy reading! ~ladyofthelake92
Chapter 33
Keyla, Brome and Birch laid on their bellies in a ditch, screened by thick, thorny bushes that grew in bunches alongside. When they heard their pursuers, Keyla had shoved his two friends into the thorns and had just barely pulled his tail through as the vermin pushed through the trees and into the clearing. Brome signaled his friends to be quiet as the sounds of dozens of paws gathered near the thorns. Birch held his breath, shaking uncontrollably with fear.
Greyfur scanned the trees and bushes, looking for any trace of the three escapers. The older fox was exhausted and irritated, having to chase them like this. But he knew the Vile One wouldn't be pleased if he didn't return with Martin the Warrior, alive or dead. He might end up joining Stoneclaw in the brig.
"I've lost their trail, sir." A ferret saluted him.
Greyfur shook his head, doubtfully. "They're here somewhere. The mouse is injured. They can't get too far ahead of us."
Brome and Keyla exchanged a nervous glance.
There was a few grumbles and Greyfur growled. "Stop complaining. The lot of ye! If you want the Vile One to keep his claws out of yer throats then get down on yer paws and start searchin'."
Keyla elbowed Brome, signaling him to start crawling through the ditch. Brome pushed Birch ahead of him. It took some persuasion for the petrified squirrel to get going. As they crawled silently through the ditch, their enemies scraped the ground for tracks or scents, above their heads.
The sun set on a dangerous game of hunter and hunted.
Back in Mossflower, Beryl the pelican preened his feathers as a gentle night breeze ruffled them. He was roosting on the top mast of the Starfish, slightly annoyed. From this vantage point, he had a good view of the landwalkers' camp in a clearing on the other side of the trees. He had seen the warlike mouse with the sword strapped to his back and became suspicious. He had a feeling the mousemaid and her otters would wage a war on him to get their vessel back now that they had reinforcements. He glanced over in their direction. The glow of the fire was dimmer, showing that it was slowly extinguishing itself as the creatures slept. He smirked and stretched out his wings before folding them against his sides once more. Let them come, he decided. He was excellent at sleeping with one eye open.
Stoneclaw paced back and forth in his cell down in the brig. Nearby, the two black weasels stood near the stairs, armed to the teeth in case the fox tried an escape. Though the fox was seemingly harmless, they were nervous. They hated the way his black eyes stared at them through the bars. They didn't dare speak to one another, for fear of the fox learning more about them and using that knowledge to his advantage. Hearing pawsteps, the two weasels moved to both sides of the staircase and saluted with their spears when Verang the Vile entered the brig. The stoat stood on the last step, paws akimbo, glaring at the fox who had stopped pacing when he saw the stoat.
Stoneclaw grinned and folded his paws behind his back, walking slowly up to the bars. "My first visitor of the night. Come to complain some more, Vile One?"
Verang grit his teeth and stepped down from the stair and walked up until he was a foot away from the bars. "Keep up with the insults, fox and you'll be more afraid of me then that otter."
Stoneclaw's grin slowly dropped into a frown. "You've made a fool out of me, stoat. That's goin' t'cost you yer life."
Verang had a slightly bored look on his face. He stretched his footpaw out and kicked the bars. "You helped yourself with that, my friend. Running from a single otter." The stoat smiled. "He must have done something terrible to put fear into someone with your resume."
The memory of it made Stoneclaw unfold his paws and grip the bars tightly.
"But," Verang continued. "I didn't come down here to discuss that with you. I already know that from your vixen. What was her name now?" He mockingly tapped his jaw in thought. Then he shrugged. "Must not have been important." He gave the fox a cunning smile.
Stoneclaw growled at Sherza's betrayal. "That vixen has signed her death warrant!"
Verang raised an eyebrow. "I wouldn't worry about her, fox. She already has." He paced backwards, chuckling. "Let's say the sharks fed well tonight."
Seething with rage, the fox struck out with a clawless paw. Verang stared down at it, remaining where he had been with the same bored expression. He looked up at the furious fox.
"I wouldn't think a hired killer like you would care for another so much. I thought it wouldn't matter to you." He replied with mock sympathy.
Stoneclaw hissed. "When I get out of here, you'll wish you never heard of me!"
Verang shrugged. "Yes, but I got what I needed. Greyfur, is that your second in command's name? Once he brings Martin back to me, avenging my father's death will be complete." He spun around and headed back for the stairs. He stopped half way up and turned back to the angry fox.
"I would say 'good night' but... I don't think it is for you." He laughed. "It is for me, though!"
The fox lost his temper and began to shake the bars, trying to pry them loose to get to the smiling stoat on the steps. The two weasels trembled in fear, their spears aiming at the insane fox. Verang walked up the stairs, pleased with himself. When he got up on deck, he breathed in the summer night air. He could still hear Stoneclaw raging and cursing down below. He smiled. Everything was going according to plan.
Or so he thought.