Days later, Bleak Castle was full of excitement and gossip. A ferret messenger had arrived from the Land of Snow and Ice! Apparently, the young wolverine emperor, Baro Steelclaws, wished to talk with Lord Almar.

In the past, the wolf and the wolverine lords had battled over the wide lands of the far north. The wars never had even a full season's pause until Almar became lord of Bleak Castle. He and the former wolverine emperor, Ragvor, decided that the only way either of them would thrive would be to make a truce.

A wary peace had reigned in the Northlands for seasons after that. It was only recently that Almar learned that Old King Ragvor had died, leaving his throne to his son, Baro Steelclaws.

Baro's message contained an invitation for the wolf and his family to visit him in his own castle. Almar, however, insisted that it would be better for the wolverine if he simply came to Bleak Castle instead. Baro agreed, and the preparations were made.

Almar's fox army was five score strong. Baro's forces, as the letter said, would only contain eight score soldiers or so. However, Almar planned to monitor their movements like a hawk.

The wolf lord and his wife were woken from their slumber by a knock on the door.

"What do you want?" Almar grumbled. "It's barely morning yet."

"Beasts have been sighted coming up the road, m'lord," General Skull's voice replied from the other side. "I thought I'd come and let you know."

Almar leapt out of his bed and hastily threw on his clothes and his heavy cape. Opening the door, he nodded briefly to Skull. The white fox saluted.

"At ease," Almar said, walking down the hallway. "Let's go see who these beasts are."

Making his way toward the gatehouse, he ran up the stairs onto the wall.

A troop of vermin were marching through the snow-filled path. Many of them ermine and foxes, yet there were also quite a few other vermin as well, a few ferrets, one wretched looking weasel, and even a ragged gang of grey rats.

The flags were white, broken only by the sign of a black claw. One beast in particular stood out, the wolverine leading them.

"That must be Baro," General Skull said, saying the obvious. "Looks young. Seventeen seasons at the most, though he sure is big."

"Hopefully he's not just all brawn and no brains," Almar muttered. "Strong beasts who don't think can make rash decisions. Ones that could affect us."

As the ranks of beasts pulled close to the wall, they stopped as one when the wolverine held up his paw. He looked up at Almar and called up, "Are you the lord of this castle?"

"Aye," came the reply.

"Would you allow me and my companions the honor of coming in? I, Emperor Baro Steelclaws, wish to discuss terms with you for a new alliance, as I wrote in my letter." He silently waited for the lord to make his decision.

General Skull whispered, "Seems polite enough. Should we let the rest of his troops in?"

"I don't think we should antagonize him. We need to at least pretend that we trust him. If not, he might decide that a treaty with us isn't worth it. A war is the last thing we need during winter."

Raising his voice, he called for the portcullis to be raised, then turned back to Baro.

"You may come in, friend," he said, bowing his head politely. He noticed with slight annoyance that the wolverine didn't bow back in return, as was the custom. He's probably just new at this, the wolf thought. He smiled inwardly. That could be a good thing. It's easier to strike a deal with an inexperienced beast instead of one that is.

The iron grating was raised, and the company of Snowlanders marched in. Most of them were armed with spears, their uniforms white and black. Almar came down from the wall and went up to Baro.

"Welcome to Bleak Castle," he said. "My servants are preparing food as we speak."

Baro smiled faintly. "I'm sure they are." He glanced around. "Nice castle. Not as nice as mine, but still nice. The keep is rather small though."

Almar laughed. "Indeed it is. However, don't underestimate it. Bleak Castle's enemies have never prevailed against us. Many skulls have shattered trying to break through our walls." He said it in a lighthearted manner, yet at the same time, the warning was clear.

"General Skull," Almar said, addressing his second in command, "Could you find a place for the Emperor's soldiers to stay in the barracks? I'm sure they're positively worn out."

The white fox nodded, then left to do his master's bidding.

"Ah, and who is this?" Baro asked, catching sight of Lady Petra and Nyko as they walked over from the castle keep, Cahira and Kano a few paces behind.

"Allow me to introduce my family. Lady Petra, Nyko, Cahira, and Kano. Our youngest, Owen, is still sleeping."

"Charmed to meet you, I'm sure," Lady Petra said, curtsying. "But it's freezing out here. Let's go inside, shall we?"

They retreated into the warmth of the main hall. Only a score of Baro's guards came with him, the others were led by General Skull to the barracks, where he and the other soldiers could keep a wary eye on them without making it obvious.

They sat down at the head table, Lady Petra shooing the two younger children off.

"Anything to drink?" she asked Baro.

The wolverine shook his head. "Thank you, but I'm fine."

"So," Almar said, tapping the table with his claws, "let's get down to business. You wanted to sign a treaty, yes?"

"Correct." The wolverine pulled out a sheet of paper and handed it to Almar. "This one is basically the same one that you signed with my father. I've added a few things, but otherwise, haven't changed it."

Almar's eyes scanned the paper. "It all seems to be in order. Now, when would you like to sign this?"

"There's no time like the present. Just put your seal down there," he pointed with his claw, "and I'll put mine next to yours."


With the treaty signed, Almar declared that they would have a feast to celebrate. Baro had immediately agreed.

The cooks worked all day. Almar had a few woodlander slaves that were skilled in the art of baking, so there was a wide selection of cakes, pies, and breads for the special occasion. Grog and wine were also served, along with many types of different cooked birds.

Lord Almar and his family were seated at their normal places at the head table. Even Owen was present. The wolf babe cooed from his place on his mother's lap. He would lean forward, trying to grasp at the strange foreign objects in front of him, causing more than one mess.

Lady Petra shot a sideways glance at Baro. At this rate, the wolverine was going to eat them out of larder and castle. At least he didn't seem to be a big drinker. Lord Almar had offered him wine on several occasions, and he politely refused.

He probably thinks drinking takes too much time away from eating, Petra thought, scoffing inwardly.

As the creatures ate, maids came to refill their plates and cups. As one of them-an ermine in a green dress-reached over the table to pour more wine into Almar's cup, she accidently knocked it over, spilling its contents all over the lord's lap.

"You useless creature!" Lady Petra snapped, reaching over and grabbing the female ermine by the arm. "Find my husband a rag!"

"Yes, m'lady! Forgive me!"

As the maid scampered off, Petra shook her head. This was why she didn't hire foreigners as kitchen maids.

The ermine wearing the green dress came back with a cloth, followed closely by her sister Althea.

"I apologize for my younger sister's clumsiness," Althea said, bowing low to Lord Almar and Lady Petra. "She's not used to all this yet. But she will be." She shot a piercing glance at her sister. "It won't happen again, I'm sure. Will it, Rosetta?"

Rosetta shook her head.

Lord Almar snatched the cloth away from Rosetta and dried himself as best he could while more servants cleaned up the mess on the table. "Hmph." He growled. "See that it doesn't. You're both dismissed."

Baro watched with amusement as the two ermine bowed and left.

"I trust this doesn't happen often, does it?" He chuckled to Lord Almar, biting into a piece of roasted bird.

"It most certainly does not!" Lady Petra replied for her husband. Her eyes narrowed. She couldn't help but dislike the young wolverine emperor. He had a certain air about the smug way he said things that she didn't like.

Baro stood up, reaching for his empty cup. "Lord Almar, shall we both propose a toast in honor of the new treaty between our realms."

"What an excellent idea." The wolf lord stood up, indicating for his servants to refill the drinks. "Here is to the alliance!" Lord Almar said, lifting his cup. "May peace reign long between us!"

"To the alliance!" the creatures in the hall echoed loudly, gulping down their wine.

The lord nodded his head to Baro, and the wolverine also lifted his glass, smirking.

"To the death of our enemies!" he yelled. "May their deaths be long and slow!"

Almar hesitated briefly before he repeated, "To the death of our enemies."

As the other vermin in the crowded hall took up the toast, Baby Owen began to cry, and Lady Petra decided that it was close enough to his bedtime to put him to sleep. Before she left, she went over to Kano and Cahira, and whispered in their ears. "Don't think I can't see you. Don't you dare drink any wine, or I'll have your father tan your hides with his sword scabbard!"

"But Nyko is drinking lots!" Cahira protested. "Why can't I?"

"Because you're much too young. Understood?" There was an unmistakable underline of a growl in her tone. "Understood?" she repeated.

"Yes, ma'am," they both sighed, disappointed.

Lady Petra walked across the hall. Just before she went out of the door, she took a casual glance back, and was surprised to see Baro watching her with a hard glance. She blinked, and the moment was gone. Petra shook her head, trying to clear it. Perhaps she needed to rest. All the stress she had been under recently must be playing tricks with her mind.


General Skull had taken a moment to get a breath of fresh night air. He decided to take a walk along the parapet. As he arrived at the gatehouse, he nodded at the pair of guards as they saluted smartly. The fox smirked. One of them had obviously been nodding off, while his companion had kept a lookout.

"At ease," he said. He shivered as the wind blew its ice breath on him. "Brr! Wouldn't want to be those bumpkins down there, eh?" He indicated the vermin below on the path. Half of Baro's troops hadn't been let in, due to safety measures, and because of lack of room in the barracks. Instead, they had built a make-shift camp on both sides of the path. The light from the fires had gone out, and the foxes inside the castle could only see the sleeping forms on the snow.

"Aye," one of the guards snickered. "I'll bet they will all 'ave frozen tails by tomorrow! Hehe!"

"They're probably hopin' that their emperor doesn't decide t' stay long," the other added. "I know I would!"

General Skull grinned and slapped the guards' shoulders. "Well it's a good thing that you're both here to keep an eye on them then! Just in case they try sneaking in to get warm. Am I right?"

The two foxes nodded in agreement.

"Very well. Goodnight."

General Skull walked down the wall stairs into the courtyard. He stifled a yawn. He wasn't getting any younger. He needed his sleep.

As he passed by the barracks, he thought he saw movement through one of the windows.

"That's strange…" he thought aloud. "All of the soldiers should be at the feast."

Walking over to investigate, he barged the door to the barracks open. The creature inside spun around with a shocked look on his face.

"W-what are you doing here?" the ferret stammered.

"I'll ask the questions, ferret!" Skull retorted. "You look like one of Baro's soldiers! Why aren't –Mffh!"

A beast suddenly grabbed him from behind, and covered his mouth. Before the fox general could break free, the ferret darted forward and plunged a knife into Skull's chest.

"What was he doing here?!"

"I dunno! Quick, let's get out of here before the others find out we're here!"

The whispered voices faded as Skull's knees gave out from under him. His eyes closed and his vision went black.

The two vermin left the dead fox and disappeared into the night.


Back in the hall, the toasts continued on. Different variations and meanings of peace, long life, hopes of victory, were called out. As time went on, it seemed that Baro's vermin were the ones doing most of the toasting, while Almar's guards did most of the drinking.

Almar's eyes were getting droopy. He was finding it hard to stay awake. "Where…where is General Skull?" he wondered aloud, hiccupping. "He always loves a good cup of wine."

"Speaking of wine, let me help fill yours up, friend," Baro smiled, indicating to a nearby servant to pour more of the drink.

Almar's paws were beginning to shake. He blinked as he looked at them. "I feel…strange?" he mumbled.

"Nothing a good cup of wine couldn't fix!" Baro said, clapping the wolf on the back.

"No, no more wine." Almar replied, blinking rapidly. What was the sudden pain in his chest from?

His loyal vermin were also having the same problems. A vixen suddenly began coughing violently, dropping her cup to the floor as she grasped her throat.

"Oh, look!" a big fox chuckled, his stance wobbly as he pointed his claw at the vixen, "Ol' Velvetnose musta choked on her food. Harhar!" He broke off as he began to cough as well, blood coming out of his mouth.

It was then that Almar realized what had happened. He stood up, gripping the table for support. "Treachery!" he roared. "Don't drink the wine! It's been poisoned!–"

He gasped out with pain as he felt a dagger plunge deep into his back. He looked down to see Baro snarling at him.

"Sweet dreams," he whispered, pulling the dagger out and slashing the mighty wolf lord's throat.

"Father!" Nyko cried, jumping to his footpaws. "No!"

Several of Baro's creatures leapt up, armed with slings. Before the young wolf warrior could reach them, they released a salvo of rocks at him. The small missiles whistled through the air viciously. One of them struck Nyko on the forehead, and the wolf collapsed.

The hall exploded into an uproar. Baro's soldiers pulled out weapons and attacked the surprised foxes – many of whom had begun to choke as the poison took effect.

Cahira and Kano stumbled out of their seats, their eyes wide. They had never seen anything like the bloodbath that was taking place before them. A few fox guards were grouped together by the main doors, desperately calling for help.

"What do we do?" Kano shrieked.

Cahira broke the leg of her chair and held it like a club. With her other paw, she grasped him by the paw. "Run! I'll hold them off!"

She broke off with a scream as Baro rushed her, knocking the make-shift weapon out of her paws, and grabbing her by the arm.

"Leave her alone!" Kano yelled, jumping at the massive mountain of flesh and black fur. "Die!"

Baro merely swung out with his arm and swatted the young wolf to the ground.

"You both have spirit," he chuckled, glancing from Cahira to Kano. "Maybe I can make some use of you yet…"


Lady Petra was walking back from Owen's room when the sounds of fighting reached her ears. Her first instinct was to run back to the nursery to grab her baby.

"Shh, little one," she said as the young babe began to wail. "Shh, it's alright." Her voice betrayed how worried she was, and Owen, sensing something was wrong, continued to cry all the louder.

There was the sound of footpaws running down the hall toward them.

"Find those wolves! Kill them! Baro doesn't want any of them left alive!"

The wolf slammed the door shut and locked it. Petra glanced around desperately, looking for an avenue for escape. Trying to silence Owen, she ran over to the window. They were at least one story high. She glanced back at the door as the beasts on the other side began to thump on it with their fists.

"Open up!"

"Find a piece of furniture, lads! We'll break it down!"

There was nothing for it. Crawling through the window, she took in a deep breath, then dropped, clutching her wailing babe close to her chest.

She landed awkwardly on the hard ground with a cry of pain. Her left footpaw was sprained, if not broken. Yet she picked herself up and began to bobble toward the gatehouse.

"Intruders!" she screamed to the dim shapes of the guards on the walls. "Foes are in the castle!"

As the foxes by the gatehouse turned to her, both of them suddenly jerked and fell to the ground, struck by arrows from the outside. Two ferrets came slinking from their hiding places in the shadows and ran into the gatehouse.

"No…" Petra gasped.

If the ferrets raised the portcullis, the rest of Baro's forces would come pouring in.

An arrow came whistling out of the darkness from the nursery window behind her and plunged into her back. Petra gasped with pain, and fell to the ground. Owen wailed, not understanding what was going on. Her heart beating wildly, the female wolf picked herself off the ground and began to stumble away. A few more arrows were shot at her, missing due to the darkness of the night.

They finally stopped.

Voices echoed out from the nursery as the vermin argued.

"Why'd ye stop? Keep shooting, ye fools!"

"It's too dark! I can't see a thing!"

"That's no excuse! Baro wants her dead."

"Can ye see her? Course ye can't! That's my point! We're jus' wasting arrows!"

There was a brief pause. "Aye. Come on, lads, let's see if Brushfang and his crew got the gates open."

Lady Petra stumbled groggily through the darkness, blood oozing from the wound in her back where the arrow still stuck out like a black flag. She tripped, falling to the ground before struggling back to her footpaws. At last, Lady Petra came to the small, sturdy hut made from stone. There was a carpet spread over the wooden floor, and Petra brushed it aside, revealing a trapdoor in the center of the floor.

She grunted with exertion as she opened the trapdoor, her back burning with pain from the arrow wound. The wound was deep, and Petra began to feel light headed from the blood loss.

"It'll be alright, Owen." She gently held him closer. "I'll make sure you're safe."

Dropping down into the tunnel, she fumbled around in the darkness until her paw came across the shape of a torch. There was at least one always placed near the entrance and the exit, along with the tools to light it.

Once the flame was kindled, she shuffled down the tunnel, blinking back tears. She'd wait to find a safe place until this all blew over. Her husband would surely defeat the attacking scum. After all, the Great Lord Almar never lost to anybeast. Right? What if… what if…

"No!" She chided to herself, "Don't think like that! Everything will be alright!"

She disappeared into the tunnel, carrying the only thing that she had left.


As dawn rose over the Northlands, a gang of vermin slavers were roused from their slumber by their chieftain's shouts.

"Wakey wakey, everybeast! Come on, things to do and places to be!" the pine marten yelled, kicking one of his thug's footpaws.

Grumbling, the vermin rose to greet their day. A few began to light a fire to cook breakfast, while the rest cleaned up the camp - under the watchful eye of their leader.

The pine marten, Stoneheart, stretched his back with a groan. "Just look at that sunrise! Look at what you all were missing!"

"I'd rather be catchin' up on me sleep," a rat grumbled, folding his blanket.

"What was that?" Stoneheart's paw dropped to the hilt of his sword. "Did I hear you say something, big mouth?"

"Hmm? Me? No, I didn't say a thing, Chief."

"That's good. When beasts like you start talking, it's a waste of good fresh air."

Stoneheart sent out a few scouts, then joined the rest of the gang as they ate. The vittles consisted of baked snake eggs that one of the ferrets had found in a nearby swamp. Needless to say, Stoneheart had been eager to pull a fast retreat when he learned that there were snakes nearby. However, the eggs they decided to keep.

The only fox in the group was cooking a pot of gruel for the beasts not privileged enough to get a share of the eggs.

Stoneheart took a swig of grog from his canteen and let out a belch.

"Aaah. Good stuff, this."

The vermin gang looked up from their food as the pair of scouts came running back.

"Chief! Chief!" they cried.

Stoneheart stood up, drawing his sword. "What? Did you find something?"

"Aye! We found a strange beast in the woods! I think it's dead or something. Come see!"

Gathering their weapons, the vermin followed the two scouts through the forest until they saw the creature.

"W-what is it?" one of the rats asked, his eyes bulging. "That thing's huge!"

Stoneheart's gaze swept over it. "It's a female wolf by the looks of it. I've never seen one before, but I've heard tell of them. It must be one. Nothing else could be that big."

"Is it dead?"

"I dunno." Stoneheart walked closer to it and prodded the wolf with his sword. The female didn't even twitch. "She's dead alright." Stoneheart sniffed, taking a step back. "Aha! See that broken shaft sticking out of her back? I'll wager a bottle of grog to a rusty nail that that's what done her in."

Suddenly, a loud wail seemed to echo from the dead beast. The gang leapt back with shock.

"What was that?! Was it her ghost?"

"I dunno. Let's get out o' 'ere!"

"Oh, hush, you cowards." Stoneheart went over to the dead beast. "Don't you recognize the cry of a babe when you hear one?"

Pushing the body over a bit, Stoneheart looked down and saw Owen's eyes shining up at him. He had stopped crying, and gazed up at the pine marten with big eyes.

"Aren't you a cutie," Stoneheart grinned, picking up the wolf baby. "Oof! A heavy cutie, though."

"What should we do wi' it?" one of the gang asked.

"I say we kill it." A stoat said, licking the tip of his knife. "End it's misery."

"Are you daft?" Stoneheart said, spitting. "When this thing grows up, it'll be a fighter to reckon with."

"What are we going to feed it?"

"Vittles I suppose." Stoneheart rolled his eyes. "Everybeast needs to eat, you know."

"But babes can't eat solid foods!"

"Then we'll get some villagers to take care of him for a while. I know a family that owes me a good deal of coin. They'll help if they know what's good for 'em." He grinned down at the wolf baby. "This could be the best investment I've ever made!"

"What'll we call him?"

Stoneheart shrugged. "I had an uncle called Bertvar once. Let's call him that."

"Bert?" The rat sniggered. "What kind of a name is that?"

Stoneheart growled. "Got a problem with it?"

"No, Chief," the rat grumbled.

"Good." Stoneheart tickled the wolf baby in his arms. "Welcome to the gang, little Bertvar."