The battle of Shadows Keep was over.
Jald Nightson was leaning against a wall, sword on the ground, covered from head to toe in crimson gore, little of it his own. Boneflower and Morik had joined him shortly after the fight with news of Skola Snowshadow's bloody revenge against the leader of the fortress.
Cadion had been left behind with a small contingent, so it was safe to assume their mouse friend was fine. Jald had been saddened to hear Deran had been discovered among the dead, however, as had Boneflower and Morik. Despite their less then cordial last meeting, the group had grown close in the time of their hunt.
Eroket was still missing.
The young ermine had not been discovered among the living, nor the dead Snowshadow had told them and neither had Davrag Joris. Snowshadow's dead had been collected for pyres of honor while Vandashira's soldiers- Snowshadow had taken no prisoners among them- were unceremoniously gathered in a pile away from the other funeral ceremonies and burned.
Skola had claimed Shadows Keep for his own, appointing a commander to keep watch over it. Jald didn't particularly care.
The ebony furred ferret didn't mind being stained in blood, in another time he may have reveled in it. He rose to his feet slowly, inspecting the few treated injuries he had sustained. The ferret's emerald eyes narrowed as he considered Eroket's fate.
Had Davrag slain him? In a fight, Davrag may indeed hold the advantage, being older, experienced and ten times the heartless killer Eroket would ever be; But if Eroket had triumphed...
If Eroket had killed Davrag, his skill may be on the way to exceeding Jald himself. Jald would welcome his prodigy back as his best friend's son, favored pupil and good friend.
If Davrag had killed Eroket, Jald would find the black stoat and make him wish he had never been born.
How surprising it was when Eroket limped into sight of Snowshadow's soldiers just minutes later.
Eroket was hungry, thirsty, tired and hurt. He had been walking all night and most of the day after his victory over Davrag and only sheer force of will kept him going this long.
Schianova sword thrust through his belt-he had lost the sheath-blood staining formerly pristine white fur Eroket had made it back at last. He hadn't stopped to consider that Vandashira may still be alive, that Snowshadow had failed in his bid to take Shadows Keep.
He knew if his friends were dead and Vandashira still reigned, if a single enemy still breathed in Shadows Keep, he had neither the energy nor conviction to fight them off now. His death would come to him on swift wings but he would face it with fearlessness that befitted a warrior.
"Eroket!"
He saw Morik Ferin rush over, only just noticing the orange glow of the flames that lit the night. The other stoat was breathing heavily, even a small run seemed to exhaust him after the battle, but he was alive and not badly wounded.
"Morik...battle? What-"
"We won." Morik answered, moving to place Eroket's arm around his shoulders as he helped his friend to Shadows Keep. "Not a single one of Vandashira's soldiers left."
"And Vanda?"
"She's dead. Skola Snowshadow saw to that personally..." Morik replied, repressing a shudder. "A lot of us thought you were dead. What happened to Davrag?"
"I killed him." Eroket managed to answer, the battle flooding back into his mind. He saw Davrag's face leering at him and then twist in pain as Eroket swung the rock into his face.
Morik was silent for a moment before he nodded and smiled. "Good job, Ero."
"Thank you." Ero managed a smile with parched lips.
"Let's just get you fed, watered and rested, ok?"
"No objections, mate." Eroket replied as Morik led him to Shadows Keep.
Morik's statement that Vandashira's soldiers had been slaughtered to the last beast was not entirely accurate.
Silter and Ren had rallied their troops, but had instantly deserted the fight and retreated out one of the many hidden passages in Shadows Keep. Ren was surprised Silter had followed him. He had expected she fight with her mistress and die as Vandashira had: Stupidly.
The troops looked to Davrag as their savior now as he had given the order to retreat and many wondered where their general had gone to.
Silter and Ren had decided on a private conference and had left the other troops, now the two were standing by the river, watching the steady flow and talking in hushed tones.
"The soldiers already know Shadows Keep has fallen, which means our Dark Lady has been slain."
Silter nodded slowly, finding the sudden change in position difficult to accept. Ren was the more skilled killer of the pair of them and at the drop of a hat he could run his dagger over her throat and announce to the troops another officer had run afoul of the mysterious bad luck Ren seemed to bring along.
"And what of Davrag?" The hoarse voiced stoat replied, eyes narrowing lightly. "He was last seen being pursued by that ermine brat."
"If...if he won, he'd have found us by now, if only to not relinquish the power the soldiers would give him." Silter replied.
Ren nodded and shrugged. "So he's dead. Now what?"
"Dead? Oh, ye of little faith..."
The cold voice was instantly traceable and both Silter and Ren whirled around.
The black stoat who stood there could only be one beast. Amber eyes shone from ebony fur, clothing soaked and clinging to his body. The voice was the same, but...the face was different.
It was a twisted wreck of scars and cuts, blood absent, apparently washed away by the river's water. The nose was flat and crunched, and a chunk was torn from this stoat's upper lip, revealing a single white fang. His left cheek was extremely mangled as well. Whatever appeal Davrag had held onto was gone; the handsome rogue was replaced by a horrific killer whose face reflected the ugliness in his black heart.
"Bastard little ermine did...did this to me." Davrag hissed, his voice lowering as he brought a claw to his wreck of a face. "Caught me off guard."
Ren's eyes flickered lightly as he walked over to his former commander. "Caught you off guard, Davrag?"
"Commander Davrag. I am your leader, Ren."
"Were." Ren corrected, a paw slipping to his dagger. "You've become like Taza: Effective at one point, useless at another."
"You tread a dangerous ground, Ren...I promised to lead our troops to better things. I will keep that promise."
Ren never heard Davrag's concealed dagger leave its sheath as Davrag strode forward. "After all, you live to serve?"
Ren nodded slowly and Davrag nodded back. "Good."
Davrag spun with quickness that shouldn't have been possible in his injured state. It clearly shocked Ren whose laconic expression turned to one of shocked surprise as Davrag stabbed him in the neck.
"Nothing personal," Davrag replied as he stabbed Ren again, this time in the heart, "But I no longer have need of your services."
A shove sent Ren's body, dagger still protruding from it, into the river and Davrag grinned, the slash of a mouth widening to show the pearl white fangs. "Stronger already..."
He turned to Silter, eyes narrowing. "Follow me or die like Ren did, Silter..."
Silter bowed low from the waist. "I serve you, Davrag...my life is yours."
Davrag grinned. "Good...now, get me to the troops and get me a healer."
He looked up slowly, amber eyes hardening, "Tell them we march to Calishan...I'm going home."
He raised his fist and snarled to the night. "But I'll have vengeance for this..."
Silter watched her master, bowing lightly as she went to inform the troops of the march. Davrag's mutilated face became a mask of rage. "I shall not forget the mountains of Kolma, Eroket Nightblade! Nor shall I ever forgive!"