Part Three
Dusk
Chapter I
Solace sat in silence as the light from the sun started to fade away. A part of her told her that they had all been killed, and to leave while she still lived. Another, considerably louder, had told her to wait a short while longer. That short while had turned into all afternoon, right up until dusk. However, she still had yet to see any sign of a living beast, fox and friend alike. Now there was nothing left to do but sit and wait, and pray that somehow everything would take a turn for the better. A loud crack shot through the air, and she jumped, grabbing for the dirk in her belt.
"Who's there?"
"Solace, it's me, Lady Flynt," answered a faint, whispering voice. "We've been looking everywhere for you." The squirrelmaid jumped down and gave her a grateful hug. "Where's Elflein?"
Solace shook her head. "Trent attacked us and killed her. Where's Montel?"
"He's back at the camp, digging. We found Celleste."
The hare's shoulders sagged. "Trent told us that he killed 'er, an' Ghost too."
Lady Flynt looked down at the ground. "We didn't find Ghost."
"The Watch is gone."
Lady Flynt frowned. "Why?"
"We'll never rebuild it, ain't ever gonna be th' same. We were backstabbed by a bunch o' vermin an' nothin's gonna put it all right save one thing."
"I'm afraid to ask, but what?"
Solace narrowed her eyes and spoke in a low, cold voice. "Revenge. I say we track th' beasts down an' kill th' whole bally lot o' them."
Lady Flynt shook her head. "Montel and I discussed that. We don't see how it would solve anything. We did, however, come up with a different idea, one that would keep the spirit of the Watch alive. There's a group up in Mossflower that's starting a resistance against a tyrannical ruler. We could be of more help there than chasing some fox who's already long gone."
Solace stared off into the distance, deep in thought. "Alright. I'll go along with th' both o' ya. Just promise that no matter what, we stay together as a group."
"Agreed. Now come on, there's work to be done back at camp. We need to find Elflein and lay her to rest."
Lady Flynt turned and slowly trudged back towards the camp. Solace watched her for a moment before following in silence. It had been a dark day, and the sun had failed to shine on the situation entirely. Now, after losing her brother to an assassin's blade, she had lost four friends to betrayal. She silently vowed never to trust a fox for as long as she lived.
Montel drove Corbin's longsword deep into the ground at the head of a freshly covered grave. The badger's dark eyes showed no traces of the pain he felt at losing his companion. He rubbed his tired eyes and looked off into the distance.
"Corbin, by my word, you will not be forgotten. If it be in the will of fate, I will join you while fighting for freedom. The warrior's path always leads to death, whether it be his own or that of another, but it never prepares you for the pain." He walked over to where his axe was leaning against a tree and picked the weapon up, slinging it over his shoulder. "Rest, now, friend. Your troubles are over."
He glanced up at the sound of approaching footfalls and nodded as Solace and Lady Flynt entered, bearing Elflein between them. He shook his head sadly; another one to bury. If he could have done so, he would have made Foxtribe pay for what they had done, and had he been within the badger's reach, nothing would have saved Trent from a painful and bloody death.
Chapter II
"He's coming around. Arkain, keep an eye on him. Blackstrike didn't recognise him, but that does not mean he is to be trusted."
"Of course, Abbess. One should never trust vermin."
The voices seemed to be coming through a hazy veil, and Ghost could not seem to break through it to the other side. His head and side ached terribly, and he felt as though he could not move his limbs.
"Alright, listen to me carefully, ferret. I have a few things I want to ask you, and I would appreciate it if you answered truthfully. We did help you out, after all, and we would like the favour returned in some way."
"Abbess, ask about this."
Ghost blinked until his surroundings became faintly visible. He was in an infirmary, surrounded by beasts, most likely mice, and what appeared to be an all black hare. One of the mice was waving a rectangular object.
"Where did you find that?"
"He dropped it when we picked him up. It looks like a journal of some sorts...but look at this, Loamscript."
Ghost was suddenly wide-awake, and his eyes snapped to focus on the journal. "Where am I."
One of the mice, an older, more stern looking one, turned back towards him, pushing a pair of spectacles up the bridge of her nose. "You are in Loamhedge." She looked back at the mouse who was holding his journal. "Let me see that, Amethyst. Why didn't you tell me you had it before?"
"You never asked."
The older mouse thumbed through the pages, stopping to read something and whispering unheard comments to herself. She stopped suddenly, after turning the last four pages and finding them blank. Looking back down at him, she closed the journal.
"Ghost, I take it that is your name, you are fortunate to have been carrying this. Arkain, remove the restraints, he can be trusted. I wish to have a word with him alone."
The black hare started to protest, but was silenced by a swift glance from the elder mouse. Ghost felt something around his wrists loosen, and then watched as the room was vacated by the others, leaving him alone with the mouse.
"Who are you?" he asked.
"I am Abbess Arum of Loamhedge, call me whatever you like." She handed the journal to him. "Can you read or write Loamscript?"
"No. This was given to me by the badger at Salamandastron."
Arum nodded. "So it said on the first page." She looked down at the floor. "What happened to the rest of your group?"
"Trent and his three Foxtribe friends betrayed us." He opened the journal and thumbed through the last four pages. "He killed Celleste. I don't know what happened to the rest of them. For all I know, they are dead too."
Arum patted his paw. "I'm sorry. I'm sure we would have enjoyed their company here." She stood. "Now I want you to get some rest. Loamhedge will offer you a place to stay for as long as you want, but be forewarned that some here do not take kindly to vermin. I don't want to insult you, but that is the truth. Also, if you would not mind all too much, I would like to read this."
Ghost nodded. "Feel free to. Let me know when you are finished, though, I want to fill the last four pages."
The Abbess nodded. "I will send someone in to see if you need anything later on. Try to sleep for now."
Ghost was suddenly aware of how tired he was, and nodded drowsily as his eyelids slowly closed. Within minutes, he was sleeping and dreaming of the future that he would never have, with Celleste at his side forever.
Chapter III
Scarstripe was chewing on a thin splinter of wood h had pulled from a tree while he calmly awaited the return of his scouts. At his side, Myriad silently paced back and forth, glancing at Mantis, who was sitting in the lower boughs of a tree. The ermine was silently testing the edge on one of his daggers. A hapless stoat was standing before Scarstripe, not meeting his commander's cool gaze, and all the while hoping the scouts returned with good news.
"Myriad, stop pacing. You are making our friend here nervous."
Myriad gave Scarstripe a cold stare. "I'm not th' only one. Maybe ye should stop starin' him down."
"Don't tell me what to do." Scarstripe glared at her. "Remember who the commander is here."
"Don't tell me what t' do." She met his gaze and smirked. "Remember why yer here?"
Scarstripe gave in. "All right, Myriad. Something's on your mind. Would you care to share it with the rest of us?"
Myriad froze in mid-stride and looked back at Scarstripe. "Yes, as a matter o' fact." She walked up to him until they were nose to nose. "I say ye let her go. Forget trying t' catch her an' bring her back. Knowing ye, ye'd only kill her."
Scarstripe stared at her for a moment and broke out laughing. "Really? So you want me to let her get away. If we do find her, what should we do with her?"
"Leave her be. Don't kill her with a beatin', ye do that enough as it is."
Scarstripe stepped back and pointed at her with an accusing finger while he addressed the others around him. "Look here, I show you one who has gone soft and proposes to lessen our discipline of the slaves." He turned and glared at her. "Leave it up to a girl to tell me how to rule my horde and my servants."
Myriad crossed her arms in front of her and bared her teeth. "Lets discuss who was too cowardly t' kill-"
Scarstripe cut her off with a swift backhand. "We agreed not to discuss that. It was a technicality on our part. Now if you don't like the way I run my horde, leave. Otherwise try to put a leash on your tongue."
Myriad said nothing, nor did she show any signs that the backhand had hurt. Her jaw ached, but her eyes were ice-cold. "Scarstripe, just remember how ye got where ye are, an' know that some o' us are out fer our own safety, not yours."
Unseen by Scarstripe, Mantis grinned and nodded in response to Myriad's statement. Scarstripe locked his eyes on Myriad's and scratched his chin thoughtfully.
"So, you willingly admit to being a traitor?"
Myriad laughed. "Don't flatter yerself, sir. I ain't a traitor, an' yer not gonna pin that title on me. I'm protected, an' there ain't more'n a few that'd believe ye."
"So what you are telling me is that there is a conspiracy within my ranks." He turned to the stoat, who had hoped he had been forgotten for the time being. "It seems a shame, doesn't it? I might have to purge my staff of conspirators and start a new one."
"Yes...I suppose so." The stoat grinned, hoping he had said the right thing.
A thin weasel with greased fur wandered in, his brow matted with sweat from a run. "Scarstripe, sir?"
Scarstripe raised his paws and looked back at the weasel, a grin immediately forming on his face. "My scouts return, proving to me that they are not terribly slow and worthless. What news, come and tell all."
"Well, th' otter's in Loam'edge. Ain't no way we could've caught 'er."
Scarstripe pondered the scout's report for a moment. "Well, won't she be surprised when we take it over. Maybe then she will realise I do not tolerate disobedience, and that there is no place to hide from me. You can go."
"But sir, that ain't all. Those foxes, well, they're in th' camp askin' fer our leader."
Scarstripe blinked a few times, startled by the news. "Make haste and send their leader to me." He pointed at the stoat. "I'll deal with you letting my servant escape later. Go and make yourself busy."
The stoat nodded and bustled off while the scout vanished into the main body of the camp. He returned a while later followed by a fox. Scarstripe stared at the guest; more interested in the crimson cape than the beast itself. He waved that aside and offered his paw.
"Scarstripe, commander of the Bloodslayers."
The fox nodded, not making any move to accept the offered paw. "Trent Silverblade. I am head of Foxtribe."
Scarstripe lowered his paw. "Why are you here, Trent?"
"Well, we were recently attacked by a group of woodlanders up north. Our already small numbers were lowered to about a score. The group is holed up in Loamhedge, and we would enjoy having a little revenge."
Scarstripe's ears perked up. "Warriors in Loamhedge? Our scouts never reported such movements. I believe you are lying."
Trent's eyes glinted slightly. "Well, your scouts would not chance to notice everything that comes to pass, would they? Besides, they are small and would easily escape an unsuspecting eye."
"Just who, exactly, is in this group?"
Trent thought for a moment. "There were seven. One male badger, one female otter, one male mouse, one female hare, one female squirrel, and a ferret couple. The mouse, otter, and female ferret are dead, and the other ferret was wounded, though I am not certain just how severely."
Myriad eyed Trent with a curious look on her face. "Why would a couple o' ferrets be in a woodlander group?"
"Long story, but I'm afraid you'll never hear it unless you ask them." He grinned. "It is rather interesting, though. They were on their way to Loamhedge to be wed. If Ghost doesn't die from his wounds, then misery should finish him off."
Myriad nodded and glanced back at Mantis. The assassin raised his dagger to his lips, indicating for her to remain silent. She looked back at the fox. "Right, well if ye killed off half o' their group, they won't be much of a threat."
Trent laughed and looked at Scarstripe. "Do you always let her speak that freely?"
Scarstripe frowned. "She is my advisor. Personally, I don't think that the warrior group you speak of would be much of a threat to me." He then added almost as an after note, "And I'm not sure I believe your story completely."
Trent chuckled. "Well, you got me on that one. I wasn't telling the whole truth. We weren't attacked, they were. Four of my foxtribe, including myself, were members of the group. We attacked them when we felt the time was right. I killed the ferretmaid myself."
Scarstripe grinned. "That sounds more like a fox. We could use that skill. I will give you and your Foxtribe a spot among our ranks. They will only answer to you, but you will answer to me."
Trent nodded. "Agreed."
The two shook paws and nodded. Myriad silently excused herself and walked towards the centre of the camp. Mantis took the opportunity to disappear, leaving Scarstripe and Trent alone to discuss their alliance.
Chapter IV
Ghost was lying in the infirmary bed, his gaze constantly shifting over to the otter at the far end of the room. The mousemaid that had found his journal -he later learned her name was Amethyst- was setting a tray with tea and scones down on a small bedside table. The otter was glaring at him, the lack of trust showing in her eyes.
"There you go. You'll never be able to say we starved you here." Amethyst handed Ghost a cup of tea. "You know, I don't think I've ever seen a ferret before."
Ghost nodded, looking away from the otter and at his cup of tea. "Well, I hope I'm the last. All of the others I ever knew were killers." He considered his words for a second. "I take that back, there was one other I knew that was not. She's dead now."
Amethyst sat down in a chair next to the bed. "Well, if it weren't for the Abbess' decision to let you stay, I could name a few that would have sent you out as soon as you got here. Not all of us are as trusting as the Abbess is."
Ghost took a sip of tea. "Does that include you?"
Amethyst nodded slowly. "Yes, it does. But that doesn't mean I won't give everyone a chance to prove me otherwise."
"You remind me of me. I said almost the same thing about a fox. He's the reason why I'm not here with all of my friends."
Amethyst recalled something she had read in the journal. "Was Trent his name?"
Ghost nodded. "He betrayed the group. I never saw it coming, but Celleste did. She never trusted him for a minute." He closed his eyes and lowered his head. "Yet she died and I lived."
"I never read more than a line or two of the journal. I never heard about Celleste. Who was she?"
"A ferret, like myself. One of the most beautiful things I had ever clapped eyes on." He opened his eyes and focused them on the beaker of tea. "She was the sister of an otter, Elflein, who was also a part of our group. I don't know what happened to the rest of them, all I can hope is that they got away before the Foxtribe attacked."
Amethyst looked back at Blackstrike for a moment. "Well, I am sorry for what happened to you. Rest easy and hope for tomorrow, that's what I always say."
Ghost shook his head. "I think I used to say that too."
Amethyst frowned and stood. "Can I get you anything else?"
Ghost shook his head.
"Well, then get some rest."
She walked over to the door, where Blackstrike was waiting, and the two exited the room in silence. As soon as the door was shut, Amethyst sighed and shook her head.
"Sad case. What do you think about him?"
Blackstrike shook her head. "I don't trust 'im. I quit trustin' vermin a long time ago, right about when I got these." She pointed to her back, indicating the scars from whips. "Why, what do ye think about 'im?"
"Well," she scratched her head. "I think he can be trusted. I also think that once he's through moping he might also be a bit more cheery. The Abbess said to let him mope for a while."
"All th' more time fer 'im t' plan somethin'."
Amethyst gave her friend a curious look. "Are you always this suspicious of beasts?"
Blackstrike snorted. "Only vermin."
"Well, as long as you don't think that way about me. Come on, Arkain wanted us to try some new pie thing he thought up. I hope your stomach's able to hold it in."
Chapter V
Mantis frowned. "I personally think that you are crazy."
Myriad glanced around nervously. She always felt like she was being watched, and Mantis' naturally soft voice only added to the effect. "Well, I think that I'm right on this one. That fox's bad news. He's gonna gain favour with Scarstripe, an' I'll bet that before long he'll have me replaced."
Mantis pressed his paws together and gave Myriad a semi-cold stare. "I could care less. If you go how does that hold an effect on me?"
"It will. I could easily declare ye as an accomplice."
Mantis patted her reassuringly on the shoulder. "Well, never you mind. I think you are right. Earlier today, I saw him talking with Darkbane, the new assassin. The two seem to know each other. If his claims about tearing that group apart from the inside are true, then he could be trying the same thing here."
"Aye, I know. Isn't that awful what he did?"
Mantis gave her a curious look. "What?"
"To th' ferrets."
Mantis chuckled. "Maybe Scarstripe was right. You seem to be going soft."
"No, I'm not." She pointed a finger at him. "Ye know as well as every'ne else here that I've never agreed with war or slaves."
"You are right there. I could also point out that you are a ferret as well." He grinned mockingly. "Could it be that you hold sympathy for this 'Ghost', who is also a ferret?"
"No. None at all. I think he was a fool t' trust a fox in th' first place. Why should I feel sorry fer him?"
Mantis shrugged. "You never know."
"Well, just watch yerself."
The assassin shrugged. "You know me. I always watch." He turned and left, vanishing into the surrounding bushes.
Myriad shuddered. Vanishing was his favourite trick, and he knew it sent shivers down her spine.
"Hello there."
The voice of the fox was another thing that sent shivers down her spine. She turned to face Trent.
"Hello, Trent."
"I don't believe we've been formally introduced." He grinned. "What was your name again?"
"Myriad."
He nodded. "Myriad. Well, you already know my name."
"Ye didn't speak very kindly of me when ye were with Scarstripe." She crossed her arms and glared at him.
"Well, I spent the last season or so with a ferretmaid. She drove me crazy. You heard what I did to her in the end, though. I guess I was just taking a little of what was left out on you." He grinned.
"Don't give me that phoney grin. Ye don't fool me one bit. Jus' watch yer back, fox." She huffed and walked away.
Dusk
Chapter I
Solace sat in silence as the light from the sun started to fade away. A part of her told her that they had all been killed, and to leave while she still lived. Another, considerably louder, had told her to wait a short while longer. That short while had turned into all afternoon, right up until dusk. However, she still had yet to see any sign of a living beast, fox and friend alike. Now there was nothing left to do but sit and wait, and pray that somehow everything would take a turn for the better. A loud crack shot through the air, and she jumped, grabbing for the dirk in her belt.
"Who's there?"
"Solace, it's me, Lady Flynt," answered a faint, whispering voice. "We've been looking everywhere for you." The squirrelmaid jumped down and gave her a grateful hug. "Where's Elflein?"
Solace shook her head. "Trent attacked us and killed her. Where's Montel?"
"He's back at the camp, digging. We found Celleste."
The hare's shoulders sagged. "Trent told us that he killed 'er, an' Ghost too."
Lady Flynt looked down at the ground. "We didn't find Ghost."
"The Watch is gone."
Lady Flynt frowned. "Why?"
"We'll never rebuild it, ain't ever gonna be th' same. We were backstabbed by a bunch o' vermin an' nothin's gonna put it all right save one thing."
"I'm afraid to ask, but what?"
Solace narrowed her eyes and spoke in a low, cold voice. "Revenge. I say we track th' beasts down an' kill th' whole bally lot o' them."
Lady Flynt shook her head. "Montel and I discussed that. We don't see how it would solve anything. We did, however, come up with a different idea, one that would keep the spirit of the Watch alive. There's a group up in Mossflower that's starting a resistance against a tyrannical ruler. We could be of more help there than chasing some fox who's already long gone."
Solace stared off into the distance, deep in thought. "Alright. I'll go along with th' both o' ya. Just promise that no matter what, we stay together as a group."
"Agreed. Now come on, there's work to be done back at camp. We need to find Elflein and lay her to rest."
Lady Flynt turned and slowly trudged back towards the camp. Solace watched her for a moment before following in silence. It had been a dark day, and the sun had failed to shine on the situation entirely. Now, after losing her brother to an assassin's blade, she had lost four friends to betrayal. She silently vowed never to trust a fox for as long as she lived.
Montel drove Corbin's longsword deep into the ground at the head of a freshly covered grave. The badger's dark eyes showed no traces of the pain he felt at losing his companion. He rubbed his tired eyes and looked off into the distance.
"Corbin, by my word, you will not be forgotten. If it be in the will of fate, I will join you while fighting for freedom. The warrior's path always leads to death, whether it be his own or that of another, but it never prepares you for the pain." He walked over to where his axe was leaning against a tree and picked the weapon up, slinging it over his shoulder. "Rest, now, friend. Your troubles are over."
He glanced up at the sound of approaching footfalls and nodded as Solace and Lady Flynt entered, bearing Elflein between them. He shook his head sadly; another one to bury. If he could have done so, he would have made Foxtribe pay for what they had done, and had he been within the badger's reach, nothing would have saved Trent from a painful and bloody death.
Chapter II
"He's coming around. Arkain, keep an eye on him. Blackstrike didn't recognise him, but that does not mean he is to be trusted."
"Of course, Abbess. One should never trust vermin."
The voices seemed to be coming through a hazy veil, and Ghost could not seem to break through it to the other side. His head and side ached terribly, and he felt as though he could not move his limbs.
"Alright, listen to me carefully, ferret. I have a few things I want to ask you, and I would appreciate it if you answered truthfully. We did help you out, after all, and we would like the favour returned in some way."
"Abbess, ask about this."
Ghost blinked until his surroundings became faintly visible. He was in an infirmary, surrounded by beasts, most likely mice, and what appeared to be an all black hare. One of the mice was waving a rectangular object.
"Where did you find that?"
"He dropped it when we picked him up. It looks like a journal of some sorts...but look at this, Loamscript."
Ghost was suddenly wide-awake, and his eyes snapped to focus on the journal. "Where am I."
One of the mice, an older, more stern looking one, turned back towards him, pushing a pair of spectacles up the bridge of her nose. "You are in Loamhedge." She looked back at the mouse who was holding his journal. "Let me see that, Amethyst. Why didn't you tell me you had it before?"
"You never asked."
The older mouse thumbed through the pages, stopping to read something and whispering unheard comments to herself. She stopped suddenly, after turning the last four pages and finding them blank. Looking back down at him, she closed the journal.
"Ghost, I take it that is your name, you are fortunate to have been carrying this. Arkain, remove the restraints, he can be trusted. I wish to have a word with him alone."
The black hare started to protest, but was silenced by a swift glance from the elder mouse. Ghost felt something around his wrists loosen, and then watched as the room was vacated by the others, leaving him alone with the mouse.
"Who are you?" he asked.
"I am Abbess Arum of Loamhedge, call me whatever you like." She handed the journal to him. "Can you read or write Loamscript?"
"No. This was given to me by the badger at Salamandastron."
Arum nodded. "So it said on the first page." She looked down at the floor. "What happened to the rest of your group?"
"Trent and his three Foxtribe friends betrayed us." He opened the journal and thumbed through the last four pages. "He killed Celleste. I don't know what happened to the rest of them. For all I know, they are dead too."
Arum patted his paw. "I'm sorry. I'm sure we would have enjoyed their company here." She stood. "Now I want you to get some rest. Loamhedge will offer you a place to stay for as long as you want, but be forewarned that some here do not take kindly to vermin. I don't want to insult you, but that is the truth. Also, if you would not mind all too much, I would like to read this."
Ghost nodded. "Feel free to. Let me know when you are finished, though, I want to fill the last four pages."
The Abbess nodded. "I will send someone in to see if you need anything later on. Try to sleep for now."
Ghost was suddenly aware of how tired he was, and nodded drowsily as his eyelids slowly closed. Within minutes, he was sleeping and dreaming of the future that he would never have, with Celleste at his side forever.
Chapter III
Scarstripe was chewing on a thin splinter of wood h had pulled from a tree while he calmly awaited the return of his scouts. At his side, Myriad silently paced back and forth, glancing at Mantis, who was sitting in the lower boughs of a tree. The ermine was silently testing the edge on one of his daggers. A hapless stoat was standing before Scarstripe, not meeting his commander's cool gaze, and all the while hoping the scouts returned with good news.
"Myriad, stop pacing. You are making our friend here nervous."
Myriad gave Scarstripe a cold stare. "I'm not th' only one. Maybe ye should stop starin' him down."
"Don't tell me what to do." Scarstripe glared at her. "Remember who the commander is here."
"Don't tell me what t' do." She met his gaze and smirked. "Remember why yer here?"
Scarstripe gave in. "All right, Myriad. Something's on your mind. Would you care to share it with the rest of us?"
Myriad froze in mid-stride and looked back at Scarstripe. "Yes, as a matter o' fact." She walked up to him until they were nose to nose. "I say ye let her go. Forget trying t' catch her an' bring her back. Knowing ye, ye'd only kill her."
Scarstripe stared at her for a moment and broke out laughing. "Really? So you want me to let her get away. If we do find her, what should we do with her?"
"Leave her be. Don't kill her with a beatin', ye do that enough as it is."
Scarstripe stepped back and pointed at her with an accusing finger while he addressed the others around him. "Look here, I show you one who has gone soft and proposes to lessen our discipline of the slaves." He turned and glared at her. "Leave it up to a girl to tell me how to rule my horde and my servants."
Myriad crossed her arms in front of her and bared her teeth. "Lets discuss who was too cowardly t' kill-"
Scarstripe cut her off with a swift backhand. "We agreed not to discuss that. It was a technicality on our part. Now if you don't like the way I run my horde, leave. Otherwise try to put a leash on your tongue."
Myriad said nothing, nor did she show any signs that the backhand had hurt. Her jaw ached, but her eyes were ice-cold. "Scarstripe, just remember how ye got where ye are, an' know that some o' us are out fer our own safety, not yours."
Unseen by Scarstripe, Mantis grinned and nodded in response to Myriad's statement. Scarstripe locked his eyes on Myriad's and scratched his chin thoughtfully.
"So, you willingly admit to being a traitor?"
Myriad laughed. "Don't flatter yerself, sir. I ain't a traitor, an' yer not gonna pin that title on me. I'm protected, an' there ain't more'n a few that'd believe ye."
"So what you are telling me is that there is a conspiracy within my ranks." He turned to the stoat, who had hoped he had been forgotten for the time being. "It seems a shame, doesn't it? I might have to purge my staff of conspirators and start a new one."
"Yes...I suppose so." The stoat grinned, hoping he had said the right thing.
A thin weasel with greased fur wandered in, his brow matted with sweat from a run. "Scarstripe, sir?"
Scarstripe raised his paws and looked back at the weasel, a grin immediately forming on his face. "My scouts return, proving to me that they are not terribly slow and worthless. What news, come and tell all."
"Well, th' otter's in Loam'edge. Ain't no way we could've caught 'er."
Scarstripe pondered the scout's report for a moment. "Well, won't she be surprised when we take it over. Maybe then she will realise I do not tolerate disobedience, and that there is no place to hide from me. You can go."
"But sir, that ain't all. Those foxes, well, they're in th' camp askin' fer our leader."
Scarstripe blinked a few times, startled by the news. "Make haste and send their leader to me." He pointed at the stoat. "I'll deal with you letting my servant escape later. Go and make yourself busy."
The stoat nodded and bustled off while the scout vanished into the main body of the camp. He returned a while later followed by a fox. Scarstripe stared at the guest; more interested in the crimson cape than the beast itself. He waved that aside and offered his paw.
"Scarstripe, commander of the Bloodslayers."
The fox nodded, not making any move to accept the offered paw. "Trent Silverblade. I am head of Foxtribe."
Scarstripe lowered his paw. "Why are you here, Trent?"
"Well, we were recently attacked by a group of woodlanders up north. Our already small numbers were lowered to about a score. The group is holed up in Loamhedge, and we would enjoy having a little revenge."
Scarstripe's ears perked up. "Warriors in Loamhedge? Our scouts never reported such movements. I believe you are lying."
Trent's eyes glinted slightly. "Well, your scouts would not chance to notice everything that comes to pass, would they? Besides, they are small and would easily escape an unsuspecting eye."
"Just who, exactly, is in this group?"
Trent thought for a moment. "There were seven. One male badger, one female otter, one male mouse, one female hare, one female squirrel, and a ferret couple. The mouse, otter, and female ferret are dead, and the other ferret was wounded, though I am not certain just how severely."
Myriad eyed Trent with a curious look on her face. "Why would a couple o' ferrets be in a woodlander group?"
"Long story, but I'm afraid you'll never hear it unless you ask them." He grinned. "It is rather interesting, though. They were on their way to Loamhedge to be wed. If Ghost doesn't die from his wounds, then misery should finish him off."
Myriad nodded and glanced back at Mantis. The assassin raised his dagger to his lips, indicating for her to remain silent. She looked back at the fox. "Right, well if ye killed off half o' their group, they won't be much of a threat."
Trent laughed and looked at Scarstripe. "Do you always let her speak that freely?"
Scarstripe frowned. "She is my advisor. Personally, I don't think that the warrior group you speak of would be much of a threat to me." He then added almost as an after note, "And I'm not sure I believe your story completely."
Trent chuckled. "Well, you got me on that one. I wasn't telling the whole truth. We weren't attacked, they were. Four of my foxtribe, including myself, were members of the group. We attacked them when we felt the time was right. I killed the ferretmaid myself."
Scarstripe grinned. "That sounds more like a fox. We could use that skill. I will give you and your Foxtribe a spot among our ranks. They will only answer to you, but you will answer to me."
Trent nodded. "Agreed."
The two shook paws and nodded. Myriad silently excused herself and walked towards the centre of the camp. Mantis took the opportunity to disappear, leaving Scarstripe and Trent alone to discuss their alliance.
Chapter IV
Ghost was lying in the infirmary bed, his gaze constantly shifting over to the otter at the far end of the room. The mousemaid that had found his journal -he later learned her name was Amethyst- was setting a tray with tea and scones down on a small bedside table. The otter was glaring at him, the lack of trust showing in her eyes.
"There you go. You'll never be able to say we starved you here." Amethyst handed Ghost a cup of tea. "You know, I don't think I've ever seen a ferret before."
Ghost nodded, looking away from the otter and at his cup of tea. "Well, I hope I'm the last. All of the others I ever knew were killers." He considered his words for a second. "I take that back, there was one other I knew that was not. She's dead now."
Amethyst sat down in a chair next to the bed. "Well, if it weren't for the Abbess' decision to let you stay, I could name a few that would have sent you out as soon as you got here. Not all of us are as trusting as the Abbess is."
Ghost took a sip of tea. "Does that include you?"
Amethyst nodded slowly. "Yes, it does. But that doesn't mean I won't give everyone a chance to prove me otherwise."
"You remind me of me. I said almost the same thing about a fox. He's the reason why I'm not here with all of my friends."
Amethyst recalled something she had read in the journal. "Was Trent his name?"
Ghost nodded. "He betrayed the group. I never saw it coming, but Celleste did. She never trusted him for a minute." He closed his eyes and lowered his head. "Yet she died and I lived."
"I never read more than a line or two of the journal. I never heard about Celleste. Who was she?"
"A ferret, like myself. One of the most beautiful things I had ever clapped eyes on." He opened his eyes and focused them on the beaker of tea. "She was the sister of an otter, Elflein, who was also a part of our group. I don't know what happened to the rest of them, all I can hope is that they got away before the Foxtribe attacked."
Amethyst looked back at Blackstrike for a moment. "Well, I am sorry for what happened to you. Rest easy and hope for tomorrow, that's what I always say."
Ghost shook his head. "I think I used to say that too."
Amethyst frowned and stood. "Can I get you anything else?"
Ghost shook his head.
"Well, then get some rest."
She walked over to the door, where Blackstrike was waiting, and the two exited the room in silence. As soon as the door was shut, Amethyst sighed and shook her head.
"Sad case. What do you think about him?"
Blackstrike shook her head. "I don't trust 'im. I quit trustin' vermin a long time ago, right about when I got these." She pointed to her back, indicating the scars from whips. "Why, what do ye think about 'im?"
"Well," she scratched her head. "I think he can be trusted. I also think that once he's through moping he might also be a bit more cheery. The Abbess said to let him mope for a while."
"All th' more time fer 'im t' plan somethin'."
Amethyst gave her friend a curious look. "Are you always this suspicious of beasts?"
Blackstrike snorted. "Only vermin."
"Well, as long as you don't think that way about me. Come on, Arkain wanted us to try some new pie thing he thought up. I hope your stomach's able to hold it in."
Chapter V
Mantis frowned. "I personally think that you are crazy."
Myriad glanced around nervously. She always felt like she was being watched, and Mantis' naturally soft voice only added to the effect. "Well, I think that I'm right on this one. That fox's bad news. He's gonna gain favour with Scarstripe, an' I'll bet that before long he'll have me replaced."
Mantis pressed his paws together and gave Myriad a semi-cold stare. "I could care less. If you go how does that hold an effect on me?"
"It will. I could easily declare ye as an accomplice."
Mantis patted her reassuringly on the shoulder. "Well, never you mind. I think you are right. Earlier today, I saw him talking with Darkbane, the new assassin. The two seem to know each other. If his claims about tearing that group apart from the inside are true, then he could be trying the same thing here."
"Aye, I know. Isn't that awful what he did?"
Mantis gave her a curious look. "What?"
"To th' ferrets."
Mantis chuckled. "Maybe Scarstripe was right. You seem to be going soft."
"No, I'm not." She pointed a finger at him. "Ye know as well as every'ne else here that I've never agreed with war or slaves."
"You are right there. I could also point out that you are a ferret as well." He grinned mockingly. "Could it be that you hold sympathy for this 'Ghost', who is also a ferret?"
"No. None at all. I think he was a fool t' trust a fox in th' first place. Why should I feel sorry fer him?"
Mantis shrugged. "You never know."
"Well, just watch yerself."
The assassin shrugged. "You know me. I always watch." He turned and left, vanishing into the surrounding bushes.
Myriad shuddered. Vanishing was his favourite trick, and he knew it sent shivers down her spine.
"Hello there."
The voice of the fox was another thing that sent shivers down her spine. She turned to face Trent.
"Hello, Trent."
"I don't believe we've been formally introduced." He grinned. "What was your name again?"
"Myriad."
He nodded. "Myriad. Well, you already know my name."
"Ye didn't speak very kindly of me when ye were with Scarstripe." She crossed her arms and glared at him.
"Well, I spent the last season or so with a ferretmaid. She drove me crazy. You heard what I did to her in the end, though. I guess I was just taking a little of what was left out on you." He grinned.
"Don't give me that phoney grin. Ye don't fool me one bit. Jus' watch yer back, fox." She huffed and walked away.