It was the fifth week that Commander Algan's troops had been searching for
any sign of town, Calpathions or even a bird roost for food. So far they
had found none and were growing hungry and were beginning to complain.
"I dinnae see why we 'ave te be out 'ere, Ragfang." A skinny weasel complained to his companion, shivering around a pile of tinder that refused to light.
His companion, a bulky ferret nodded. "Aye, Larken." He muttered, wrapping his tattered, gray cloak around his large form. "If only the commander would get it through 'is 'ead that we ain't finding anything out 'ere then we could jus' go back to the camp.."
"Empty pawed, mate?" A fox sniggered at his companions, his brushtail twitched a bit. "The gen'ral wouldn't be 'appy.and when the 'great' Genera; Visla ain't 'appy' you know damn well what'll 'appen."
The ferret and the weasel both shuddered, Larken continuing to crack two flint stones together, trying in vain to light the wet wood. "Tis miserable when we cannot even light a blasted fire!" He snarled angrily. Ragfang nodded unhappily.
The fox, Bredge muttered in displeasure as well. The three of them were part of the Death Watch trackers and killers and they were good at what they did, but even the veterans were having doubts now. Algan had led the three score soldiers under his command astray, lost in the woodlands, running out of provisions and unable to catch anything. The night was particularly cold too, making every beast in the makeshift camp feel unpleasant.
Algan himself was sitting in the middle of camp, a rat in his middle seasons, he was used to the cold and discomfort more then any under his command, currently conversing with his second in command; a ferret named Meras.
"Any sign of anything useful, Meras?" The tall rat replied in his rasping voice.
Meras, small for a ferret, his fur silvery gray to match with his light, silvery voice, replied slowly. "A small grove ahead, many hills, commander.there were signs of creatures passing through.paw prints in the sand.prolly not Calpaths.they wouldn't be careless. "
Algan grinned, showing his fang. "No problem there." He grinned, pawing his saber. "gone without battle too long and we can just slaughter them for whatever they 'ave.anything else?"
"Yes.a loose scrap of cloth, strange design there. I couldn't match it."
Algan shrugged. "We have three score.more then enough to take care o' wanderin' fools." He grinned.
Normally Meras may've protested against a rash attack. However he, like the others under Algan, were all tense and edgy, they needed something to take their frustration out on. Caution be damned, no Calpathion would be here, no tracks uncovered, no sign of them at all.
If Algan had been at full alertness he would have noticed a small hawk on a tree branch nearby. Making no sound the hawk spread its wings and began flapping, no thermals at night making it harder to move. It was best though to get away before the barbarous Death Watcher-who were mostly asleep- noticed his presence and decided he would make a good meal.
Besides, he had to tell Commander Deran things were proceeding as planned.
"I dinnae see why we 'ave te be out 'ere, Ragfang." A skinny weasel complained to his companion, shivering around a pile of tinder that refused to light.
His companion, a bulky ferret nodded. "Aye, Larken." He muttered, wrapping his tattered, gray cloak around his large form. "If only the commander would get it through 'is 'ead that we ain't finding anything out 'ere then we could jus' go back to the camp.."
"Empty pawed, mate?" A fox sniggered at his companions, his brushtail twitched a bit. "The gen'ral wouldn't be 'appy.and when the 'great' Genera; Visla ain't 'appy' you know damn well what'll 'appen."
The ferret and the weasel both shuddered, Larken continuing to crack two flint stones together, trying in vain to light the wet wood. "Tis miserable when we cannot even light a blasted fire!" He snarled angrily. Ragfang nodded unhappily.
The fox, Bredge muttered in displeasure as well. The three of them were part of the Death Watch trackers and killers and they were good at what they did, but even the veterans were having doubts now. Algan had led the three score soldiers under his command astray, lost in the woodlands, running out of provisions and unable to catch anything. The night was particularly cold too, making every beast in the makeshift camp feel unpleasant.
Algan himself was sitting in the middle of camp, a rat in his middle seasons, he was used to the cold and discomfort more then any under his command, currently conversing with his second in command; a ferret named Meras.
"Any sign of anything useful, Meras?" The tall rat replied in his rasping voice.
Meras, small for a ferret, his fur silvery gray to match with his light, silvery voice, replied slowly. "A small grove ahead, many hills, commander.there were signs of creatures passing through.paw prints in the sand.prolly not Calpaths.they wouldn't be careless. "
Algan grinned, showing his fang. "No problem there." He grinned, pawing his saber. "gone without battle too long and we can just slaughter them for whatever they 'ave.anything else?"
"Yes.a loose scrap of cloth, strange design there. I couldn't match it."
Algan shrugged. "We have three score.more then enough to take care o' wanderin' fools." He grinned.
Normally Meras may've protested against a rash attack. However he, like the others under Algan, were all tense and edgy, they needed something to take their frustration out on. Caution be damned, no Calpathion would be here, no tracks uncovered, no sign of them at all.
If Algan had been at full alertness he would have noticed a small hawk on a tree branch nearby. Making no sound the hawk spread its wings and began flapping, no thermals at night making it harder to move. It was best though to get away before the barbarous Death Watcher-who were mostly asleep- noticed his presence and decided he would make a good meal.
Besides, he had to tell Commander Deran things were proceeding as planned.