Eagle Watch
Southstream
By Matthew Vazquez
It has been half a season since our victory over Starbane, and we now seek the safe haven known to all as Loamhedge. Our four companions from the former Foxtribe still travel with us, and all, with the exception of Celleste, have deemed them trustworthy. Earlier today, I overheard Solace telling Elflein about Salamandastron's food. Elflein silenced her with a bowl of hotroot soup, and Solace has not spoken since all day; though I must admit it is hard to talk with your head under the water.
Thinking of Salamandastron reminds me of my late friend, Acer. He was a regrettable loss to the group, and a nagging voice in the back of my mind refuses to let the murder sleep. I am now recalling that Montel had encountered two assassins that night and that only one was slain: Skullrag. The second escaped, and I am beginning to wonder if he died in our attack on Starbane's horde.
Trent and Bloodwort, two members from Foxtribe, have proven useful scouts, though they have been admittedly lazy as of late. I am probably going to send them on a scouting mission again. They rarely return with much to report. I hope we catch sight of Loamhedge soon. Celleste and I are growing impatient and excited as we draw nearer the place.
I must stop writing, a higher matter summons, and I do not want to keep her waiting. I will have Trent and Bloodwort scout to the east and report back by nightfall. Snitch and Elflein are preparing the lunch, and Montel and Corbin are giving Dengar a hard time. My personal opinion is that all four of the foxes need a sense of humour. Celleste is calling again, I must be going.
Ghost,
Eagle Watch
~Eagle Watch~
SOUTHSTREAM
By Matthew Vazquez
PART ONE
Dawn
Chapter I
Ghost closed the worn journal and slipped it back in the pocket of his robe. Overhead, the warm sun was shining bright in a cloudless sky, and the spring weather had a calming effect on the members of Eagle Watch. The distant sound of running water to the south only added to the overall cheery, relaxed mood that held a strong grip on the group.
Ghost stretched and scratched a faint itch under the black fur surrounding his dark amber eyes. Standing, and tapping her foot-paw impatiently on the ground, was Celleste. As he drew nearer, a smile formed on her face and she walked over to him.
"Took you long enough."
The two ferrets embraced and started walking away from the main camp; Ghost taking her paw in his.
"I was writing in my log."
Celleste glanced sidelong at him and chuckled. "That's all you ever do, isn't it full yet?"
"Almost. Four pages left until I run out of room."
"Save those four, please, for Loamhedge."
He grinned and pulled the book from his pocket. "Here, hold on to it until then. In my absentmindedness I would write and not realise it."
She took the book and studied its cover. "The Badger Lord gave you this?"
"Yes, he did."
She chuckled. "I wouldn't've, but I guess that just tells you how much he knew about you."
"If you're going to be that way, then give it back."
Ghost reached out to take the book, but Celleste darted away from him, taunting him playfully by dangling it just out of his reach.
"If you can catch me, it's yours." She drew it back as he lunged for it and hit him lightly on the head. "You're too slow."
The two ran and darted among the scattered trees, Celleste taunting him and laughing every time he missed. Ghost feigned a sudden disinterest in the game and caught her off guards. As she took a relaxed step closer to him, he lunged and caught her in a tight bear hug.
"I caught you."
She tucked the journal into her belt. "I changed my mind. I'm keeping it."
Ghost frowned and scratched her under the chin. "You little thief. I just hope our children don't end up following in your likeness."
Celleste pushed him away and crossed her arms. "Now who's not being nice?"
The two started laughing and were soon walking paw in paw again.
"Ghost, what are we going to do about Trent and the others?"
Ghost shook his head. "You still don't trust them?"
"Never have. There is something about the way they act."
"They act fine."
She nodded her head. "Right, they're acting too normal. They came from a cold-blooded horde. I would expect more...coldness from them. Have you seen how Trent and Bloodwort are always glaring at me?"
"They don't glare at you."
"When you're not around." She sighed. "He threatened me once, and you too. Remember at the base of the cliff?"
Ghost shook his head. The argument was an old one, and she never failed to bring it up. "He threatened you when he was still a part of Starbane's horde."
"He wasn't part of the horde when he threatened you."
"No, he wasn't, but he still had his Foxtribe back then as well. He has yet to do anything against us, and until he does I will trust him."
They both fell silent; knowing it was useless to argue the issue any further. Ghost tried to change the topic to something they both looked forward too.
"According to the map they gave us at Salamandastron, we are almost to Loamhedge."
Celleste grinned and leaned her head on his shoulder. "How much longer, do you think?"
"Oh, I don't know." He tried to guess in his head. "Another few days, I'd guess."
"Too long."
He shook his head. "Not for forever. It could be longer, and if it were, I would admit it to be too long. Three days is not too long, not to me."
"Well, you're just strange."
They both turned back around as someone tumbled noisily through the brush. Solace, the hare that had come from Salamandastron after hearing of her brother's death, came bounding up to them.
"Hullo there, y'little kiddies. I ain't interruptin' nothin', am I?"
"Nothing, Solace. We were just discussing Loamhedge." Ghost threw his arm around Celleste's shoulders. "Just our usual topic of conversation."
Solace chuckled and winked. "Not far off now, soon we'll be feastin' at th' tables an' laughin' along wi' th' best o' them. Now wots say we quit wanderin' off an' head back for some jolly good lunch, wot!"
"Alright, lunch it is. Celleste, go on ahead. Solace, go with her and send Bloodwort and Trent to me, please."
"Right away, sah!" Solace saluted. "Anythin' else I can do t' be o' service?"
Ghost nodded. "Yes."
"Wot's that, sah?"
Ghost shrugged. "I don't know, I just felt like saying yes."
Solace shoved him and hopped back to the camp, laughing. "You're a funny one, Ghost. Though I can't see wot't was m' brother saw in ya!"
Ghost shook his head. "Hares, just can't bring them down for long. Quite extraordinary, really. Underneath that fun, joking exterior, they are true warriors."
Celleste started walking back to the camp. "Be careful with Trent and Bloodwort. I don't trust them. Underneath that kind veil, every fox is a sneak and in the game for themselves. Watch your back."
"I will. That's a promise."
Ghost smiled reassuringly as the two foxes started walking towards him. Celleste made an effort to pass nowhere near them, and was soon back in the camp. Trent bowed slightly as Ghost walked forward to intercept them.
"Ghost, what can we do for you today?"
"Trent, according to what they gave us back at Salamandastron, we can't be more than three days away from Loamhedge. Could you do me a favour, scout ahead and look for any landmarks we could use as reference. You have a copy of the map, don't you?"
Trent gave the ferret a curt nod. "It is in my pack, back at camp, sir. Would you like me to fetch it?"
"No, that won't be necessary. Don't be too long, back by nightfall."
Trent bowed again. "We'll let you know if we find anything useful, sir."
Ghost chuckled at the fox's formality. "You are too kind, Trent. Come on back to camp and fix up your packs. Today's going to be hot, so don't forget water."
"Of course, sir." Trent smiled.
The three strode back to the camp.
Chapter II
The midday sun did not just fall on the camp of Eagle Watch alone. One day from their ultimate goal, the Bloodslayers were in the middle of getting ready to march. Under the watchful eye of their leader, Scarstripe, the five score vermin were moving with a mechanical efficiency. Scarstripe was standing in the centre of the camp; his watchful eye quick to catch any misstep or err performed by those under his command. A seasoned veteran on the battlefield, Scarstripe knew what he wanted from his horde. Military discipline was practised at such a degree; rumours had spread that the hares from Salamandastron would have been put to shame.
Military status alone was not what bought him the respect from his troops. He demanded a large amount of respect from his own history. The horde had not been his from its birth. He had conspired long and hard with Mantis, his assassin, and Myriad, his main advisor, before finally developing a plan to make the incredible power his to wield. The price had been painful, but in the end, the cost brought unwavering loyalty and respect from his troops. His competitor for power had hired another assassin, and was successful in capturing him for a short while; long enough to leave a long gash running down his back. The assassin and its leader had paid with their life. The fur that had grown back over the scar was a grey-white, and the stripe was the source of respect and his name: Scarstripe.
The weasel blinked as he watched a black rat floating around the camp. He turned to a ferretmaid at his side.
"Myriad, who is that?"
Myriad followed the weasel's gaze and watched the rat for a moment. "Darkbane, sir. New recruit, trainin' under Mantis. Th' li'le snip came in about 'alf a season ago."
"Darkbane, eh." Scarstripe scratched his chin. "I don't believe anyone ever told me we had a new assassin."
"That'd be Mantis' job. I jus' know he came durin' that mess wi'th' otter's, an' things were confusin' then."
"Aye, they were. Thank you, Myriad." He patted her on the shoulder. "Darkbane, come here."
The black rat hurried over and saluted. "Yes, sir?"
"I don't believe I ever welcomed you to the Bloodslayers. You are aware of the way I run my horde, are you not?"
"Yes, sir. Mantis filled me in."
Scarstripe held up a paw. "Yes, sir and no, sir will do. You do not say more unless asked. Why, if you are aware of how I run the camp, are you wandering about with nothing to do?"
Darkbane hesitated. "I wasn't sure of what to do, sir."
"Mantis is your teacher?"
"Yes, sir."
"Then talk to Mantis," Scarstripe snapped at the rat. "I don't want to waste my time telling little whelps like yourself what to do. Everybeast has a task and I expect it to be done on time. Is that understood?"
"Yes, sir."
"Then get moving. Find Mantis and tell him to put you to work."
The rat scurried off, watched by Myriad and Scarstripe. The weasel shook his head and sighed. "Half a season?"
"Aye, 'alf a season."
"I shouldn't take them so young and inexperienced." He glanced around and started walking towards his tent. As a rule, his tent was always the last thing packed before a march. "So, how far are we from Loamhedge?"
"Th' scouts claim a day's march."
Scarstripe held the tent flap open for her and followed her in. "What about the war council?"
"Slow, sir. They say that they're gonna be ready fer an immediate attack, but I've seen a snail o'ertake a bird faster than they're going."
"Remind them, Myriad, that stealth is of the utmost importance. Have the scouts found anything else?"
"Nothin' that's too important. Some camps not far from our spot, a band o' foxes."
"Are they any threat?"
Myriad shook her head. "From what I've gathered, they're movin' at a slow pace. They're scouts haven't caught wind o' us, an' if they 'ave, they ain't doin' nothin' about it."
"Good. I don't want any surprises against us when we finally attack." Scarstripe grinned and continued watching the horde work. "It is impressive to see what they are capable of."
"Aye, sir." Myriad knew what was coming. It had become a standard routine. "They're in capable hands."
"Of course. I run everything on a tight watch. The march does not even require the use of drums. My Bloodslayers are the perfect war machine. We are not too small, and not too big. Loamhedge won't be able to stand against us."
"Aye, sir. They'll fall, an' we'll use th' buildin' fer a fortress. It'll become th' new power in th' lands."
"My trusted advisor, you never fail to bolster my ego with your words." He grinned at her. "It is because of that, I let you live to advise me."
She nodded and suppressed a grin of her own. "Aye sir, thankee, sir."
Scarstripe acted as though he had not noticed her final words and shouted at the black rat, Darkbane. "Darkbane, haven't you found something to do yet? Come here, I'll give you a job."
A lanky ermine slowly made his way to the two of them, stopping a few steps away from his commander. "Sir, we've got a little problem."
Scarstripe stared the ermine down. "What sort of problem would that be?"
The ermine chuckled nervously, but was driven to speak by a cold growl by Scarstripe. "Well, one of them's done gone and escaped."
Chapter III
Trent stopped to get his bearings straight and gave a nod of satisfaction. He and Bloodwort had been trekking for near an hour, never stopping any longer than was needed to check their course and make what few corrections there were. Trent listened to the silence around them and grinned.
"Give them a call, Bloodwort."
Bloodwort pulled a leaf from a tree and split it down the middle. He pressed it between his paws and blew out two, shrill whistles. Almost immediately, a similar response echoed back.
"Good, he'll be here in a few minutes." Trent opened his canteen of water and took a long drink. "Ain't nothing to do now but wait."
The two sat in the shade of a tall elm, neither saying a word, until a cruel looking fox stepped out of the brush. The fox glanced at Bloodwort, then Trent, his paw never leaving the basket hilt of his rapier. He gave a gruff nod and approached them. Trent rose to meet him.
"What news from the watch, sir?"
Trent clasped his paw on the fox's shoulder and grinned. "We are drawing nearer every day. How's the clan?"
"We wait for our leader's return and hope it is soon." The fox gave a nod to Bloodwort. "How goes, brother?"
"All goes well, Blythe. What is new with the clan?"
"Nothing. Everything remains the same. Blades are sharper, and arrows are awaiting their targets, but that is all."
"Patience is the key, Blythe." Trent's eyes glinted. "Soon, our dead comrades will be avenged, and Foxtribe will smite its enemies. We never fail."
Blythe grinned. "Of course not, sir. How many days until the attack?"
"Two. By this time in two days, Eagle Watch will be no more."
"How will it be done?"
"Bloodwort and I will take care of the ferrets. They are our primary targets. While they are distracted, and ultimately being killed, the main attack will ambush the others. They won't know what hit them. We can then join with that horde south of here and decide where to go next."
Blythe nodded. "Why do you want the ferrets alone?"
Trent's expression turned serious, with a mocking tone showing in his eyes. "The two will be fun to torture and kill slowly. Ghost will watch Celleste die, and he will follow soon after, but not before hearing about the demise of Eagle Watch. They killed members of our clan; therefor they deserve to die. I just want to have fun with the two ferrets before I send them to the Dark Forest."
Blythe nodded slowly. Trent's explanation still made no sense to him. "Of course, why not?" He looked at Trent, then to Bloodwort, then back at Trent again. "Is that all?"
"Yes, brother. Inform the rest of Foxtribe about our plans and see to it that they are ready. Surprise will be of the utmost importance in this task; we will need as much as we can get."
Blythe chuckled. "Have no worries. Foxtribe is capable of anything. Are any of the members of Eagle Watch suspicious?"
Trent laughed. "Ghost trusts us, and his trust has passed on to the rest of them. The only one that keeps distance from us is Celleste. She'll be more surprised than the rest of them, though, when she finally realises she was right about us."
Blythe bowed. "I must be returning, it is a long trek back to camp, and I would like to return before nightfall."
"Aye, we've got to be back by that time too. Until we meet again, Blythe, best of luck to you. Tell Foxtribe I'll prepare the biggest feast they've ever clapped eyes on once we get this done."
Bloodwort walked up to his brother and clasped his paw. "Take care. We'll be back with the clan before long."
"Aye, I'll be waiting, brother." Blythe saluted and walked back into the brush.
Trent chuckled and began walking back towards the camp. "Come on, Bloodwort, we've got a long march ahead of us. Where are we, according to the map?"
"Well, two and a half days from Loamhedge."
"Anything else to report?"
"Nothing of importance was found, sir."
Trent chuckled. "You sound so convincing."
Bloodwort grinned. "I'm a fox, sly is my line of work."
The two laughed as they made their way back to camp.
Chapter IV
The day was as perfect as one could ever want. The sun was shining, and the sky was blue over Loamhedge. The air was warm, not too hot, and stirred by a cool, gentle breeze that helped keep the heat at bay. In the gardens, the leaves were bright green, and the flowers were in full bloom, boasting a mosaic of coloured petals that would please the eye for hours.
Resting on the ramparts of the west-facing wall, her arms acting as a pillow for her light tan head, her amethyst coloured eyes gazing at the vast stretch of forest and field outside the abbey, a mousemaid was busy taking full advantage of the relaxed mood created by the day. As she was focusing on a single spot, not particularly anywhere at all, she felt her eyelids start to droop and close.
"Amethyst!"
Her senses came to full alert and she was suddenly wide-awake, the spell of sleep broken by the call. She turned and looked down into the abbey grounds. Grinning from ear to ear was Arkain, the black hare. He bounced lightly on his feet as he waved her down.
"Right near lunch time, gel. Come along then, wot!"
Amethyst rolled her eyes. "There's better things to do than eat."
Arkain staggered backwards as if he had been dealt a powerful blow to the face. "Like wot, lookin' out at nothin' all day? Hardly, if y' ask me. Now come on, there waitin' for ya in th' Dinin' Hall."
The mousemaid rested her chin in her hands and batted her eyes. "Waiting for a little mousemaid like myself?"
Arkain shook his head. "Actually, they jus' told me t' get ya. They've already started eatin' an' if y'ain't comin' any time soon, I'm gonna go join them an' get m'full share o' th' food."
Amethyst laughed. "You go ahead. I'm not hungry just yet."
Arkain's jaw dropped to the ground as he stared at her in disbelief. "Not hungry? Y'poor liddle beast, what're they doin' t' ya? Well, could I jus' have your servin's then?"
Amethyst shrugged. "Sure, why not."
The sable hare bounded away with a loud whoop. Amethyst shook her head slowly and looked back out over the green forest again. Loamhedge was a quiet, peaceful place, and trouble was a rare visitor. It had been more than twice her lifetime since the last time the abbey had been threatened by anything, and she was certain it would stay that way. She sighed heavily as her eyelids started to drop.
SNAP!
Her eyes shot wide open and turned towards the direction of the sound. She could see nothing, at first, save a few moving branches on the smaller trees and bushes. Something was slowly making its way towards the walls of Loamhedge. Amethyst tried to get a better view by leaning over the wall top. An ottermaid crashed into the open, walking in an uneven line towards the side gate. Amethyst was shocked into silence as she stared at the young beast. The brown furred otter had five black stripes, two on the back of her neck, and three more on her back. However, that was not what held the mousemaid's frightened gaze. What did was the pattern of scars that broke the unique pattern on the ottermaid's back; scars from a whip, and most appeared to be very fresh.
The ottermaid trudged heavily to the gate and sagged against the wall, obviously exhausted from travelling. Amethyst watched as the poor beast raised a paw to knock, and suddenly felt an icy terror cling her as the ottermaid collapsed onto the ground.
Amethyst bolted down the stairs and towards the main hall. She shoved the heavy door open and cut across to the smaller dining hall. Every beast in the abbey glared at her as the door slammed loudly against the stone wall, each silently demanding a reason for the sudden and uncalled for entrance. Amethyst ignored all of them.
"Arkain, get a healer, stretcher, and someone to help carry the stretcher. An otter just collapsed outside our western gate."
Natura, the abbey's healer, gently dabbed the young otter's head with a damp rag while Arkain, Amethyst, and Abbess Arum looked on. The healer stopped, pressed her paw against the otter's cheek, and shook her head. The Abbess ran a paw through her silver grey fur and frowned.
"What's wrong?"
"She's got a fever, but it will pass soon." Natura dipped the rag in a warm water basin and laid it flat across the otter's forehead.
"What can you tell us about those scars, are they what I think they are?"
Natura nodded slowly. "Slaver's whip, and what is more fearful is that some are fresh...not more than a day old."
Arkain growled. "Then that means they're near our abbey."
Arum placed a paw on the hare's shoulder. "Don't be too quick to act. I would like to hold a meeting on the matter. If there is one slave, there are others; and I do hope we might be able to do something for them."
Amethyst shook her head sadly. "What sort of monster would do this?"
Arkain narrowed his eyes and looked out the infirmary window. "A vermin hold's no qualms about takin' any beast as a slave." He turned and started walking for the door. "Amethyst, if y'ever meet a vermin, don't trust 'em. They'll kill ya. Abbess, call me when th' meetin's startin'."
The three abbey mice looked back down at the unconscious otter.
"Why's Arkain so against vermin?"
The Abbess smiled. "Your curiosity is your strength, Amethyst. Arkain came to our gates as an escaped slave. He made himself a personal battle against all slavers, that is why I caution him about acting too quickly. If he wants to start a war with the slavers, so be it; the slavers will suffer under his wrath. I just want to be sure he comes back alive."
Amethyst nodded slowly. "What are we going to do with her?" She pointed at the otter.
"We'll take her in, treat her like she belongs here, and care for her until she is able to care for herself. Loamhedge is open to any beast that wants to enter its gates, so long as their intentions are peaceful. We will treat her no differently. Come now, Amethyst. Leave Natura to her job and let's go to the kitchens. It has reached my ears that you were not at lunch; we shall have to remedy that."
The Abbess made her way towards the door, beckoning for Amethyst to follow. The younger mousemaid hung back, her amethyst eyes locked on the beaten otter. With a heartfelt sigh, she left the infirmary.
Chapter V
Ghost stood silently beside the watchfire, his meal untouched by his feet. The camp was settling down for the night, and the only things missing were Trent and Bloodwort. The first watch of the night belonged to the ferrets, and Ghost intended to discuss the findings that the two brought back, if they came back.
Celleste was sitting beside the fire; her gaze shifting from the dancing flames to Ghost. Her brow creased with worry as she noticed the uneaten food on the ground by his feet. With a sigh, she stood and walked over to him, picking the bowl of soup up off the ground.
"You really ought to eat. You don't expect to last through the watch without food, do you?"
Ghost took the bowl and stared at its contents. "I'm worried for Trent and Bloodwort. They should have been back by now."
Celleste frowned. "Why should you be worried, they can take care of themselves. I actually feel safer without those two. Dengar's no better. Those three give me the creeps. If they didn't show up on time, I'd be suspicious."
"Suspicious of what? What have they done of late that even suggests a conspiracy on their part?"
"Nothing, but I still don't trust them. You of all creatures should know the art of deception."
Ghost closed his eyes and shook his head slowly. "Celleste, how many would trust a pair of ferrets? We are in the same position they are, and we should not suspect them of anything until they have done something to worry about."
A twig snapped, and the two turned towards the sound as Trent and Bloodwort strode into the camp, discussing their findings. Ghost gave Celleste a warning glance and started towards the two scouts.
"How goes, friends?"
Trent bowed. "All is well. We found the landmarks the map pointed out, and we judge to be about two and a half days travel from Loamhedge, if we keep up our current rate of travel, that is." He grinned as Snitch and Dengar glanced their way. Trent yawned and scratched his neck twice. The other two nodded. "How was your day here at the camp?"
Ghost shrugged. "Not too interesting." He yawned. "You two should get some rest, I think we will strike the camp tomorrow morning and be on our way."
Trent seemed to notice Ghost's yawn. "Would you like to rest? Bloodwort and I could take the first watch."
Celleste was quick with a reply. "No, we're fine. You two get some rest and enjoy a full night's sleep."
Trent eyed Celleste and nodded. "Aye, we will then. Good night, and we'll see you in the morning. Two days more."
Celleste shot the fox a quick glance. "I thought you said three?"
"Hmm? Oh, yes, three." Trent waved his paw, as if motioning that it did not matter. "I'm just tired, that's all. Good night, again."
Celleste hissed as soon as the two were out of earshot.
"I told you they were up to something."
Ghost shook his head. "You mean that 'two days' thing? He said he was just tired. Anyone could make that mistake."
"If he was so tired, why did he offer to take our watch? If he were so tired, he would have fallen asleep. Trent was the leader of his group, surely he knew that he would just put the rest of us in danger by taking the watch if he was so tired."
Ghost was silent for a moment. She had a point and her argument made sense. "Alright," he said after a long pause. "I'm going to watch the four of them from here on out. I don't think you are right on this conspiracy thing, but something is starting to seem odd about them." He glanced back at the four foxes; they all appeared to be sleeping. "If I do feel they are really up to something, I will have Montel become their permanent chaperone, or I will simply have them leave the Watch."
Celleste smiled and threw her arms around Ghost. "Good. I'm glad to see you've finally come to your senses." She hugged him tightly. "Just think, three more days."
"Aye, three days, and then what?'
"Forever. What else?"
Southstream
By Matthew Vazquez
It has been half a season since our victory over Starbane, and we now seek the safe haven known to all as Loamhedge. Our four companions from the former Foxtribe still travel with us, and all, with the exception of Celleste, have deemed them trustworthy. Earlier today, I overheard Solace telling Elflein about Salamandastron's food. Elflein silenced her with a bowl of hotroot soup, and Solace has not spoken since all day; though I must admit it is hard to talk with your head under the water.
Thinking of Salamandastron reminds me of my late friend, Acer. He was a regrettable loss to the group, and a nagging voice in the back of my mind refuses to let the murder sleep. I am now recalling that Montel had encountered two assassins that night and that only one was slain: Skullrag. The second escaped, and I am beginning to wonder if he died in our attack on Starbane's horde.
Trent and Bloodwort, two members from Foxtribe, have proven useful scouts, though they have been admittedly lazy as of late. I am probably going to send them on a scouting mission again. They rarely return with much to report. I hope we catch sight of Loamhedge soon. Celleste and I are growing impatient and excited as we draw nearer the place.
I must stop writing, a higher matter summons, and I do not want to keep her waiting. I will have Trent and Bloodwort scout to the east and report back by nightfall. Snitch and Elflein are preparing the lunch, and Montel and Corbin are giving Dengar a hard time. My personal opinion is that all four of the foxes need a sense of humour. Celleste is calling again, I must be going.
Ghost,
Eagle Watch
~Eagle Watch~
SOUTHSTREAM
By Matthew Vazquez
PART ONE
Dawn
Chapter I
Ghost closed the worn journal and slipped it back in the pocket of his robe. Overhead, the warm sun was shining bright in a cloudless sky, and the spring weather had a calming effect on the members of Eagle Watch. The distant sound of running water to the south only added to the overall cheery, relaxed mood that held a strong grip on the group.
Ghost stretched and scratched a faint itch under the black fur surrounding his dark amber eyes. Standing, and tapping her foot-paw impatiently on the ground, was Celleste. As he drew nearer, a smile formed on her face and she walked over to him.
"Took you long enough."
The two ferrets embraced and started walking away from the main camp; Ghost taking her paw in his.
"I was writing in my log."
Celleste glanced sidelong at him and chuckled. "That's all you ever do, isn't it full yet?"
"Almost. Four pages left until I run out of room."
"Save those four, please, for Loamhedge."
He grinned and pulled the book from his pocket. "Here, hold on to it until then. In my absentmindedness I would write and not realise it."
She took the book and studied its cover. "The Badger Lord gave you this?"
"Yes, he did."
She chuckled. "I wouldn't've, but I guess that just tells you how much he knew about you."
"If you're going to be that way, then give it back."
Ghost reached out to take the book, but Celleste darted away from him, taunting him playfully by dangling it just out of his reach.
"If you can catch me, it's yours." She drew it back as he lunged for it and hit him lightly on the head. "You're too slow."
The two ran and darted among the scattered trees, Celleste taunting him and laughing every time he missed. Ghost feigned a sudden disinterest in the game and caught her off guards. As she took a relaxed step closer to him, he lunged and caught her in a tight bear hug.
"I caught you."
She tucked the journal into her belt. "I changed my mind. I'm keeping it."
Ghost frowned and scratched her under the chin. "You little thief. I just hope our children don't end up following in your likeness."
Celleste pushed him away and crossed her arms. "Now who's not being nice?"
The two started laughing and were soon walking paw in paw again.
"Ghost, what are we going to do about Trent and the others?"
Ghost shook his head. "You still don't trust them?"
"Never have. There is something about the way they act."
"They act fine."
She nodded her head. "Right, they're acting too normal. They came from a cold-blooded horde. I would expect more...coldness from them. Have you seen how Trent and Bloodwort are always glaring at me?"
"They don't glare at you."
"When you're not around." She sighed. "He threatened me once, and you too. Remember at the base of the cliff?"
Ghost shook his head. The argument was an old one, and she never failed to bring it up. "He threatened you when he was still a part of Starbane's horde."
"He wasn't part of the horde when he threatened you."
"No, he wasn't, but he still had his Foxtribe back then as well. He has yet to do anything against us, and until he does I will trust him."
They both fell silent; knowing it was useless to argue the issue any further. Ghost tried to change the topic to something they both looked forward too.
"According to the map they gave us at Salamandastron, we are almost to Loamhedge."
Celleste grinned and leaned her head on his shoulder. "How much longer, do you think?"
"Oh, I don't know." He tried to guess in his head. "Another few days, I'd guess."
"Too long."
He shook his head. "Not for forever. It could be longer, and if it were, I would admit it to be too long. Three days is not too long, not to me."
"Well, you're just strange."
They both turned back around as someone tumbled noisily through the brush. Solace, the hare that had come from Salamandastron after hearing of her brother's death, came bounding up to them.
"Hullo there, y'little kiddies. I ain't interruptin' nothin', am I?"
"Nothing, Solace. We were just discussing Loamhedge." Ghost threw his arm around Celleste's shoulders. "Just our usual topic of conversation."
Solace chuckled and winked. "Not far off now, soon we'll be feastin' at th' tables an' laughin' along wi' th' best o' them. Now wots say we quit wanderin' off an' head back for some jolly good lunch, wot!"
"Alright, lunch it is. Celleste, go on ahead. Solace, go with her and send Bloodwort and Trent to me, please."
"Right away, sah!" Solace saluted. "Anythin' else I can do t' be o' service?"
Ghost nodded. "Yes."
"Wot's that, sah?"
Ghost shrugged. "I don't know, I just felt like saying yes."
Solace shoved him and hopped back to the camp, laughing. "You're a funny one, Ghost. Though I can't see wot't was m' brother saw in ya!"
Ghost shook his head. "Hares, just can't bring them down for long. Quite extraordinary, really. Underneath that fun, joking exterior, they are true warriors."
Celleste started walking back to the camp. "Be careful with Trent and Bloodwort. I don't trust them. Underneath that kind veil, every fox is a sneak and in the game for themselves. Watch your back."
"I will. That's a promise."
Ghost smiled reassuringly as the two foxes started walking towards him. Celleste made an effort to pass nowhere near them, and was soon back in the camp. Trent bowed slightly as Ghost walked forward to intercept them.
"Ghost, what can we do for you today?"
"Trent, according to what they gave us back at Salamandastron, we can't be more than three days away from Loamhedge. Could you do me a favour, scout ahead and look for any landmarks we could use as reference. You have a copy of the map, don't you?"
Trent gave the ferret a curt nod. "It is in my pack, back at camp, sir. Would you like me to fetch it?"
"No, that won't be necessary. Don't be too long, back by nightfall."
Trent bowed again. "We'll let you know if we find anything useful, sir."
Ghost chuckled at the fox's formality. "You are too kind, Trent. Come on back to camp and fix up your packs. Today's going to be hot, so don't forget water."
"Of course, sir." Trent smiled.
The three strode back to the camp.
Chapter II
The midday sun did not just fall on the camp of Eagle Watch alone. One day from their ultimate goal, the Bloodslayers were in the middle of getting ready to march. Under the watchful eye of their leader, Scarstripe, the five score vermin were moving with a mechanical efficiency. Scarstripe was standing in the centre of the camp; his watchful eye quick to catch any misstep or err performed by those under his command. A seasoned veteran on the battlefield, Scarstripe knew what he wanted from his horde. Military discipline was practised at such a degree; rumours had spread that the hares from Salamandastron would have been put to shame.
Military status alone was not what bought him the respect from his troops. He demanded a large amount of respect from his own history. The horde had not been his from its birth. He had conspired long and hard with Mantis, his assassin, and Myriad, his main advisor, before finally developing a plan to make the incredible power his to wield. The price had been painful, but in the end, the cost brought unwavering loyalty and respect from his troops. His competitor for power had hired another assassin, and was successful in capturing him for a short while; long enough to leave a long gash running down his back. The assassin and its leader had paid with their life. The fur that had grown back over the scar was a grey-white, and the stripe was the source of respect and his name: Scarstripe.
The weasel blinked as he watched a black rat floating around the camp. He turned to a ferretmaid at his side.
"Myriad, who is that?"
Myriad followed the weasel's gaze and watched the rat for a moment. "Darkbane, sir. New recruit, trainin' under Mantis. Th' li'le snip came in about 'alf a season ago."
"Darkbane, eh." Scarstripe scratched his chin. "I don't believe anyone ever told me we had a new assassin."
"That'd be Mantis' job. I jus' know he came durin' that mess wi'th' otter's, an' things were confusin' then."
"Aye, they were. Thank you, Myriad." He patted her on the shoulder. "Darkbane, come here."
The black rat hurried over and saluted. "Yes, sir?"
"I don't believe I ever welcomed you to the Bloodslayers. You are aware of the way I run my horde, are you not?"
"Yes, sir. Mantis filled me in."
Scarstripe held up a paw. "Yes, sir and no, sir will do. You do not say more unless asked. Why, if you are aware of how I run the camp, are you wandering about with nothing to do?"
Darkbane hesitated. "I wasn't sure of what to do, sir."
"Mantis is your teacher?"
"Yes, sir."
"Then talk to Mantis," Scarstripe snapped at the rat. "I don't want to waste my time telling little whelps like yourself what to do. Everybeast has a task and I expect it to be done on time. Is that understood?"
"Yes, sir."
"Then get moving. Find Mantis and tell him to put you to work."
The rat scurried off, watched by Myriad and Scarstripe. The weasel shook his head and sighed. "Half a season?"
"Aye, 'alf a season."
"I shouldn't take them so young and inexperienced." He glanced around and started walking towards his tent. As a rule, his tent was always the last thing packed before a march. "So, how far are we from Loamhedge?"
"Th' scouts claim a day's march."
Scarstripe held the tent flap open for her and followed her in. "What about the war council?"
"Slow, sir. They say that they're gonna be ready fer an immediate attack, but I've seen a snail o'ertake a bird faster than they're going."
"Remind them, Myriad, that stealth is of the utmost importance. Have the scouts found anything else?"
"Nothin' that's too important. Some camps not far from our spot, a band o' foxes."
"Are they any threat?"
Myriad shook her head. "From what I've gathered, they're movin' at a slow pace. They're scouts haven't caught wind o' us, an' if they 'ave, they ain't doin' nothin' about it."
"Good. I don't want any surprises against us when we finally attack." Scarstripe grinned and continued watching the horde work. "It is impressive to see what they are capable of."
"Aye, sir." Myriad knew what was coming. It had become a standard routine. "They're in capable hands."
"Of course. I run everything on a tight watch. The march does not even require the use of drums. My Bloodslayers are the perfect war machine. We are not too small, and not too big. Loamhedge won't be able to stand against us."
"Aye, sir. They'll fall, an' we'll use th' buildin' fer a fortress. It'll become th' new power in th' lands."
"My trusted advisor, you never fail to bolster my ego with your words." He grinned at her. "It is because of that, I let you live to advise me."
She nodded and suppressed a grin of her own. "Aye sir, thankee, sir."
Scarstripe acted as though he had not noticed her final words and shouted at the black rat, Darkbane. "Darkbane, haven't you found something to do yet? Come here, I'll give you a job."
A lanky ermine slowly made his way to the two of them, stopping a few steps away from his commander. "Sir, we've got a little problem."
Scarstripe stared the ermine down. "What sort of problem would that be?"
The ermine chuckled nervously, but was driven to speak by a cold growl by Scarstripe. "Well, one of them's done gone and escaped."
Chapter III
Trent stopped to get his bearings straight and gave a nod of satisfaction. He and Bloodwort had been trekking for near an hour, never stopping any longer than was needed to check their course and make what few corrections there were. Trent listened to the silence around them and grinned.
"Give them a call, Bloodwort."
Bloodwort pulled a leaf from a tree and split it down the middle. He pressed it between his paws and blew out two, shrill whistles. Almost immediately, a similar response echoed back.
"Good, he'll be here in a few minutes." Trent opened his canteen of water and took a long drink. "Ain't nothing to do now but wait."
The two sat in the shade of a tall elm, neither saying a word, until a cruel looking fox stepped out of the brush. The fox glanced at Bloodwort, then Trent, his paw never leaving the basket hilt of his rapier. He gave a gruff nod and approached them. Trent rose to meet him.
"What news from the watch, sir?"
Trent clasped his paw on the fox's shoulder and grinned. "We are drawing nearer every day. How's the clan?"
"We wait for our leader's return and hope it is soon." The fox gave a nod to Bloodwort. "How goes, brother?"
"All goes well, Blythe. What is new with the clan?"
"Nothing. Everything remains the same. Blades are sharper, and arrows are awaiting their targets, but that is all."
"Patience is the key, Blythe." Trent's eyes glinted. "Soon, our dead comrades will be avenged, and Foxtribe will smite its enemies. We never fail."
Blythe grinned. "Of course not, sir. How many days until the attack?"
"Two. By this time in two days, Eagle Watch will be no more."
"How will it be done?"
"Bloodwort and I will take care of the ferrets. They are our primary targets. While they are distracted, and ultimately being killed, the main attack will ambush the others. They won't know what hit them. We can then join with that horde south of here and decide where to go next."
Blythe nodded. "Why do you want the ferrets alone?"
Trent's expression turned serious, with a mocking tone showing in his eyes. "The two will be fun to torture and kill slowly. Ghost will watch Celleste die, and he will follow soon after, but not before hearing about the demise of Eagle Watch. They killed members of our clan; therefor they deserve to die. I just want to have fun with the two ferrets before I send them to the Dark Forest."
Blythe nodded slowly. Trent's explanation still made no sense to him. "Of course, why not?" He looked at Trent, then to Bloodwort, then back at Trent again. "Is that all?"
"Yes, brother. Inform the rest of Foxtribe about our plans and see to it that they are ready. Surprise will be of the utmost importance in this task; we will need as much as we can get."
Blythe chuckled. "Have no worries. Foxtribe is capable of anything. Are any of the members of Eagle Watch suspicious?"
Trent laughed. "Ghost trusts us, and his trust has passed on to the rest of them. The only one that keeps distance from us is Celleste. She'll be more surprised than the rest of them, though, when she finally realises she was right about us."
Blythe bowed. "I must be returning, it is a long trek back to camp, and I would like to return before nightfall."
"Aye, we've got to be back by that time too. Until we meet again, Blythe, best of luck to you. Tell Foxtribe I'll prepare the biggest feast they've ever clapped eyes on once we get this done."
Bloodwort walked up to his brother and clasped his paw. "Take care. We'll be back with the clan before long."
"Aye, I'll be waiting, brother." Blythe saluted and walked back into the brush.
Trent chuckled and began walking back towards the camp. "Come on, Bloodwort, we've got a long march ahead of us. Where are we, according to the map?"
"Well, two and a half days from Loamhedge."
"Anything else to report?"
"Nothing of importance was found, sir."
Trent chuckled. "You sound so convincing."
Bloodwort grinned. "I'm a fox, sly is my line of work."
The two laughed as they made their way back to camp.
Chapter IV
The day was as perfect as one could ever want. The sun was shining, and the sky was blue over Loamhedge. The air was warm, not too hot, and stirred by a cool, gentle breeze that helped keep the heat at bay. In the gardens, the leaves were bright green, and the flowers were in full bloom, boasting a mosaic of coloured petals that would please the eye for hours.
Resting on the ramparts of the west-facing wall, her arms acting as a pillow for her light tan head, her amethyst coloured eyes gazing at the vast stretch of forest and field outside the abbey, a mousemaid was busy taking full advantage of the relaxed mood created by the day. As she was focusing on a single spot, not particularly anywhere at all, she felt her eyelids start to droop and close.
"Amethyst!"
Her senses came to full alert and she was suddenly wide-awake, the spell of sleep broken by the call. She turned and looked down into the abbey grounds. Grinning from ear to ear was Arkain, the black hare. He bounced lightly on his feet as he waved her down.
"Right near lunch time, gel. Come along then, wot!"
Amethyst rolled her eyes. "There's better things to do than eat."
Arkain staggered backwards as if he had been dealt a powerful blow to the face. "Like wot, lookin' out at nothin' all day? Hardly, if y' ask me. Now come on, there waitin' for ya in th' Dinin' Hall."
The mousemaid rested her chin in her hands and batted her eyes. "Waiting for a little mousemaid like myself?"
Arkain shook his head. "Actually, they jus' told me t' get ya. They've already started eatin' an' if y'ain't comin' any time soon, I'm gonna go join them an' get m'full share o' th' food."
Amethyst laughed. "You go ahead. I'm not hungry just yet."
Arkain's jaw dropped to the ground as he stared at her in disbelief. "Not hungry? Y'poor liddle beast, what're they doin' t' ya? Well, could I jus' have your servin's then?"
Amethyst shrugged. "Sure, why not."
The sable hare bounded away with a loud whoop. Amethyst shook her head slowly and looked back out over the green forest again. Loamhedge was a quiet, peaceful place, and trouble was a rare visitor. It had been more than twice her lifetime since the last time the abbey had been threatened by anything, and she was certain it would stay that way. She sighed heavily as her eyelids started to drop.
SNAP!
Her eyes shot wide open and turned towards the direction of the sound. She could see nothing, at first, save a few moving branches on the smaller trees and bushes. Something was slowly making its way towards the walls of Loamhedge. Amethyst tried to get a better view by leaning over the wall top. An ottermaid crashed into the open, walking in an uneven line towards the side gate. Amethyst was shocked into silence as she stared at the young beast. The brown furred otter had five black stripes, two on the back of her neck, and three more on her back. However, that was not what held the mousemaid's frightened gaze. What did was the pattern of scars that broke the unique pattern on the ottermaid's back; scars from a whip, and most appeared to be very fresh.
The ottermaid trudged heavily to the gate and sagged against the wall, obviously exhausted from travelling. Amethyst watched as the poor beast raised a paw to knock, and suddenly felt an icy terror cling her as the ottermaid collapsed onto the ground.
Amethyst bolted down the stairs and towards the main hall. She shoved the heavy door open and cut across to the smaller dining hall. Every beast in the abbey glared at her as the door slammed loudly against the stone wall, each silently demanding a reason for the sudden and uncalled for entrance. Amethyst ignored all of them.
"Arkain, get a healer, stretcher, and someone to help carry the stretcher. An otter just collapsed outside our western gate."
Natura, the abbey's healer, gently dabbed the young otter's head with a damp rag while Arkain, Amethyst, and Abbess Arum looked on. The healer stopped, pressed her paw against the otter's cheek, and shook her head. The Abbess ran a paw through her silver grey fur and frowned.
"What's wrong?"
"She's got a fever, but it will pass soon." Natura dipped the rag in a warm water basin and laid it flat across the otter's forehead.
"What can you tell us about those scars, are they what I think they are?"
Natura nodded slowly. "Slaver's whip, and what is more fearful is that some are fresh...not more than a day old."
Arkain growled. "Then that means they're near our abbey."
Arum placed a paw on the hare's shoulder. "Don't be too quick to act. I would like to hold a meeting on the matter. If there is one slave, there are others; and I do hope we might be able to do something for them."
Amethyst shook her head sadly. "What sort of monster would do this?"
Arkain narrowed his eyes and looked out the infirmary window. "A vermin hold's no qualms about takin' any beast as a slave." He turned and started walking for the door. "Amethyst, if y'ever meet a vermin, don't trust 'em. They'll kill ya. Abbess, call me when th' meetin's startin'."
The three abbey mice looked back down at the unconscious otter.
"Why's Arkain so against vermin?"
The Abbess smiled. "Your curiosity is your strength, Amethyst. Arkain came to our gates as an escaped slave. He made himself a personal battle against all slavers, that is why I caution him about acting too quickly. If he wants to start a war with the slavers, so be it; the slavers will suffer under his wrath. I just want to be sure he comes back alive."
Amethyst nodded slowly. "What are we going to do with her?" She pointed at the otter.
"We'll take her in, treat her like she belongs here, and care for her until she is able to care for herself. Loamhedge is open to any beast that wants to enter its gates, so long as their intentions are peaceful. We will treat her no differently. Come now, Amethyst. Leave Natura to her job and let's go to the kitchens. It has reached my ears that you were not at lunch; we shall have to remedy that."
The Abbess made her way towards the door, beckoning for Amethyst to follow. The younger mousemaid hung back, her amethyst eyes locked on the beaten otter. With a heartfelt sigh, she left the infirmary.
Chapter V
Ghost stood silently beside the watchfire, his meal untouched by his feet. The camp was settling down for the night, and the only things missing were Trent and Bloodwort. The first watch of the night belonged to the ferrets, and Ghost intended to discuss the findings that the two brought back, if they came back.
Celleste was sitting beside the fire; her gaze shifting from the dancing flames to Ghost. Her brow creased with worry as she noticed the uneaten food on the ground by his feet. With a sigh, she stood and walked over to him, picking the bowl of soup up off the ground.
"You really ought to eat. You don't expect to last through the watch without food, do you?"
Ghost took the bowl and stared at its contents. "I'm worried for Trent and Bloodwort. They should have been back by now."
Celleste frowned. "Why should you be worried, they can take care of themselves. I actually feel safer without those two. Dengar's no better. Those three give me the creeps. If they didn't show up on time, I'd be suspicious."
"Suspicious of what? What have they done of late that even suggests a conspiracy on their part?"
"Nothing, but I still don't trust them. You of all creatures should know the art of deception."
Ghost closed his eyes and shook his head slowly. "Celleste, how many would trust a pair of ferrets? We are in the same position they are, and we should not suspect them of anything until they have done something to worry about."
A twig snapped, and the two turned towards the sound as Trent and Bloodwort strode into the camp, discussing their findings. Ghost gave Celleste a warning glance and started towards the two scouts.
"How goes, friends?"
Trent bowed. "All is well. We found the landmarks the map pointed out, and we judge to be about two and a half days travel from Loamhedge, if we keep up our current rate of travel, that is." He grinned as Snitch and Dengar glanced their way. Trent yawned and scratched his neck twice. The other two nodded. "How was your day here at the camp?"
Ghost shrugged. "Not too interesting." He yawned. "You two should get some rest, I think we will strike the camp tomorrow morning and be on our way."
Trent seemed to notice Ghost's yawn. "Would you like to rest? Bloodwort and I could take the first watch."
Celleste was quick with a reply. "No, we're fine. You two get some rest and enjoy a full night's sleep."
Trent eyed Celleste and nodded. "Aye, we will then. Good night, and we'll see you in the morning. Two days more."
Celleste shot the fox a quick glance. "I thought you said three?"
"Hmm? Oh, yes, three." Trent waved his paw, as if motioning that it did not matter. "I'm just tired, that's all. Good night, again."
Celleste hissed as soon as the two were out of earshot.
"I told you they were up to something."
Ghost shook his head. "You mean that 'two days' thing? He said he was just tired. Anyone could make that mistake."
"If he was so tired, why did he offer to take our watch? If he were so tired, he would have fallen asleep. Trent was the leader of his group, surely he knew that he would just put the rest of us in danger by taking the watch if he was so tired."
Ghost was silent for a moment. She had a point and her argument made sense. "Alright," he said after a long pause. "I'm going to watch the four of them from here on out. I don't think you are right on this conspiracy thing, but something is starting to seem odd about them." He glanced back at the four foxes; they all appeared to be sleeping. "If I do feel they are really up to something, I will have Montel become their permanent chaperone, or I will simply have them leave the Watch."
Celleste smiled and threw her arms around Ghost. "Good. I'm glad to see you've finally come to your senses." She hugged him tightly. "Just think, three more days."
"Aye, three days, and then what?'
"Forever. What else?"