Chapter 3
Grektooth and his restless band retired into camp at the foot of the mountain. There were caves that had belonged to bats, now slain and being roasted on spits by the hungry vermin. All of them, murdered so none was left surviving. Arrio the Doglord wanted to witnesses left alive. When many of his horde occupied caves together, he and his vixen seer held separate ones in which to reside. Together by a bright orange flame fire they sat. Far into the depths of the dark shadowed cave. Arrio sat on one side and Oleander the vixen sat on the other. She chanted almost inaudibly in her slurred murmuring voice. Arrio strained his ears to hear the vixen's eerie words as she shook her short staff. He could not keep his eyes of of that staff. An odd item carved from the bone of an unknown animal and decorated with strings of fangs attached. Inside of it, he couldn't figure out what made the staff hiss and rattle. Oleander threw a pawful of powdered herbs into the fire and it flashed a brilliant green for a split moment. Arrio's eyes burned. Her voice grew louder and lightly resounded off the damp walls of the cave. Painted orange and red from the fire.
"Visions, dreams come to me
I am but Oleander
Future is what I seek to see
Obey me, I, Oleander."
All the time her eyes had been closed as she chanted. Arrio had peered closer at her as Oleander went very still. He was wondering if the vixen had died. She was quiet and still as still. He waited. Nothing happened. Arrio leaned in closer and was about to tap her with his paw. Oleander howled loudly and the frightful sound echoed again and again off the walls. Suddenly her eyes opened wide with a wild intense look staring into Arrio's. He withdrew himself and sat down farther away, trying to hide his shock and his fear. Her voice was flat and haunting as she recited her vision as if possesed.
"Beware o' the ferret Betrayer m'lord
Who is destined to wield a mouse warrior's sword
His eyes shall be the color of flames
The one known by so many names
Young he is now and with coat of red
Because of him someday you may lie dead."
His mouth was a stern line as he processed the words. Oleander rocked back and forth as she stared into the flames. Arrio usually did not want to ask any silly questions. He often answered them for himself before he wanted to be sure. His voice was soft and reasonable as he spoke.
"So... a ferret in my horde is a traitor. He'll wield some mouse's sword, orange---no... the flames were---green eyes, alot of names and a coat of red. He's going to kill me?
"Yes my lord. You are forgetting the prophecy also states it's a young one. Presumably male."
Arrio shrugged. This vision of Oleander's was very ridiculous but he underestimated nothing. One mistake and everything would go wrong. If he heard her say a flower would kill him he'd have his horde trample any blossoming plant they came by for miles and miles around. The thing was, red coat of fur, or a cloth red coat? He dismissed his thought aside. Arrio stood up and walked outside. He beckoned to Yeraki, captain of his raven troop, and also motioned to Grektooth, captain of his vermin horde. Arrio pulled them aside into the cave as they bowed their heads to him. He whispered only for their ears.
"Slay all the young ferret males."
Grektooth almost let his stoic scarred face show distress, for he, had a son.
"All o' them Sire?"
"You know the drill. Spare none."
Grektooth nodded with a grim look and walked out of the cave to search for his son. Yeraki dipped his beak and flew off overhead to inform his officers. After that there would be no hope for any to live. Grektooth casually walked faster and took longer strides as he made his way through the camps and crowds. He wasn't too fond of his son and no vermin really loved their relations, but Rakken was his. No beast could take anything from Grektooth, not even a measly little offspring that couldn't even squash a bug. He spotted Ferin shuffling by him, trying with difficulty to keep up. Ferin was his spy. Grektooth glanced about and walked behind a tent with Ferin following, from the corner of his mouth Grektooth began to ask Ferin for his information. Grektooth always had Ferin and many others to spy on Arrio and Oleander when they were together somewhere. That meant they were discussing things and Grektooth didn't want to miss anything. Any business made with that nasty maroon dyed vixen meant death. Always death. This time it would be the young ones. Ferin the rat was a skinny small fellow often left unnoticed. This was why he was appointed the spy.
"Wot ja 'ear?"
Ferin whispered harshly in a low crackly voice which suited him, "Sssire, therrre be a prophessssy. A ferrrret male in red coat with many name kill Arrio sssssomeday."
"Aye?"
"Yessirrr."
"Good work Ferin," Grektooth said and dismissed the odd creature from his sight.
Now there was more of a reason to save his son. Yes, his son was called many a name. Softheart, Woodlander, Idiot, Moron, and Daisy-picker. Most of all his son adorned a red coat. It was harder to spot now with all the dirt and mud stains caked upon it. Grektooth hurried to his tent and looked for his son. As usual just sitting there upon his makeshift bed brooding. Grektooth grabbed his son by the arm and pulled him up. He tugged his son out of the tent and pushed Rakken to run into the woods Rakken struggled lightly and grunted with protest.
"'Ey! Wotjer doin' tha' fer Dad?"
Grektooth snorted and looked around in case they were being watched. He spat at his son's feet and gestured for his son to go. Rakken's voice was often so soft and gentle. It made Grektooth sick, but if his son lived. Rakken may come back and Oleander's prophecy would be fulfilled. Arrio would be gone and Grektooth could take command.
"Jiss go Rakken. Tha' vixen an' Arrio want teh kill yer," Grektooth made a kick at his son, "Go or yeh die wiv teh others."
"Wha' others?"
"GO!"
Rakken needed no more telling and he ran. He often hated killing. Swift as any bird Rakken disappeared to nowhere in particular. Just away for it meant his life. He could not help but to pity who else was to be killed this day. Night was falling and it was cold and dark. Night was black. Killing was red. Crimson red as his coat once had been. Grektooth walked away to summon his officers and prepare for the kill. One by one each ferret male was hunted down to be mercilessly slain. All ordered by the Highlord Warwolf.
Arrio the Doglord!
Grektooth and his restless band retired into camp at the foot of the mountain. There were caves that had belonged to bats, now slain and being roasted on spits by the hungry vermin. All of them, murdered so none was left surviving. Arrio the Doglord wanted to witnesses left alive. When many of his horde occupied caves together, he and his vixen seer held separate ones in which to reside. Together by a bright orange flame fire they sat. Far into the depths of the dark shadowed cave. Arrio sat on one side and Oleander the vixen sat on the other. She chanted almost inaudibly in her slurred murmuring voice. Arrio strained his ears to hear the vixen's eerie words as she shook her short staff. He could not keep his eyes of of that staff. An odd item carved from the bone of an unknown animal and decorated with strings of fangs attached. Inside of it, he couldn't figure out what made the staff hiss and rattle. Oleander threw a pawful of powdered herbs into the fire and it flashed a brilliant green for a split moment. Arrio's eyes burned. Her voice grew louder and lightly resounded off the damp walls of the cave. Painted orange and red from the fire.
"Visions, dreams come to me
I am but Oleander
Future is what I seek to see
Obey me, I, Oleander."
All the time her eyes had been closed as she chanted. Arrio had peered closer at her as Oleander went very still. He was wondering if the vixen had died. She was quiet and still as still. He waited. Nothing happened. Arrio leaned in closer and was about to tap her with his paw. Oleander howled loudly and the frightful sound echoed again and again off the walls. Suddenly her eyes opened wide with a wild intense look staring into Arrio's. He withdrew himself and sat down farther away, trying to hide his shock and his fear. Her voice was flat and haunting as she recited her vision as if possesed.
"Beware o' the ferret Betrayer m'lord
Who is destined to wield a mouse warrior's sword
His eyes shall be the color of flames
The one known by so many names
Young he is now and with coat of red
Because of him someday you may lie dead."
His mouth was a stern line as he processed the words. Oleander rocked back and forth as she stared into the flames. Arrio usually did not want to ask any silly questions. He often answered them for himself before he wanted to be sure. His voice was soft and reasonable as he spoke.
"So... a ferret in my horde is a traitor. He'll wield some mouse's sword, orange---no... the flames were---green eyes, alot of names and a coat of red. He's going to kill me?
"Yes my lord. You are forgetting the prophecy also states it's a young one. Presumably male."
Arrio shrugged. This vision of Oleander's was very ridiculous but he underestimated nothing. One mistake and everything would go wrong. If he heard her say a flower would kill him he'd have his horde trample any blossoming plant they came by for miles and miles around. The thing was, red coat of fur, or a cloth red coat? He dismissed his thought aside. Arrio stood up and walked outside. He beckoned to Yeraki, captain of his raven troop, and also motioned to Grektooth, captain of his vermin horde. Arrio pulled them aside into the cave as they bowed their heads to him. He whispered only for their ears.
"Slay all the young ferret males."
Grektooth almost let his stoic scarred face show distress, for he, had a son.
"All o' them Sire?"
"You know the drill. Spare none."
Grektooth nodded with a grim look and walked out of the cave to search for his son. Yeraki dipped his beak and flew off overhead to inform his officers. After that there would be no hope for any to live. Grektooth casually walked faster and took longer strides as he made his way through the camps and crowds. He wasn't too fond of his son and no vermin really loved their relations, but Rakken was his. No beast could take anything from Grektooth, not even a measly little offspring that couldn't even squash a bug. He spotted Ferin shuffling by him, trying with difficulty to keep up. Ferin was his spy. Grektooth glanced about and walked behind a tent with Ferin following, from the corner of his mouth Grektooth began to ask Ferin for his information. Grektooth always had Ferin and many others to spy on Arrio and Oleander when they were together somewhere. That meant they were discussing things and Grektooth didn't want to miss anything. Any business made with that nasty maroon dyed vixen meant death. Always death. This time it would be the young ones. Ferin the rat was a skinny small fellow often left unnoticed. This was why he was appointed the spy.
"Wot ja 'ear?"
Ferin whispered harshly in a low crackly voice which suited him, "Sssire, therrre be a prophessssy. A ferrrret male in red coat with many name kill Arrio sssssomeday."
"Aye?"
"Yessirrr."
"Good work Ferin," Grektooth said and dismissed the odd creature from his sight.
Now there was more of a reason to save his son. Yes, his son was called many a name. Softheart, Woodlander, Idiot, Moron, and Daisy-picker. Most of all his son adorned a red coat. It was harder to spot now with all the dirt and mud stains caked upon it. Grektooth hurried to his tent and looked for his son. As usual just sitting there upon his makeshift bed brooding. Grektooth grabbed his son by the arm and pulled him up. He tugged his son out of the tent and pushed Rakken to run into the woods Rakken struggled lightly and grunted with protest.
"'Ey! Wotjer doin' tha' fer Dad?"
Grektooth snorted and looked around in case they were being watched. He spat at his son's feet and gestured for his son to go. Rakken's voice was often so soft and gentle. It made Grektooth sick, but if his son lived. Rakken may come back and Oleander's prophecy would be fulfilled. Arrio would be gone and Grektooth could take command.
"Jiss go Rakken. Tha' vixen an' Arrio want teh kill yer," Grektooth made a kick at his son, "Go or yeh die wiv teh others."
"Wha' others?"
"GO!"
Rakken needed no more telling and he ran. He often hated killing. Swift as any bird Rakken disappeared to nowhere in particular. Just away for it meant his life. He could not help but to pity who else was to be killed this day. Night was falling and it was cold and dark. Night was black. Killing was red. Crimson red as his coat once had been. Grektooth walked away to summon his officers and prepare for the kill. One by one each ferret male was hunted down to be mercilessly slain. All ordered by the Highlord Warwolf.
Arrio the Doglord!