The foragers came back from trip to find a tired but happy group of veterans partying. The noon sun was beating on their heads like an oven, so they cooled off in the surf, laughing and playing like young ones. Kell shook his head, grinning, at Marc, who was doing cartwheels and imitations of hares.
"By the left, I'll smite yah, eh, eh, you blaggard! Wot? Wot! Wotwotwot!"
Fann walked up, leaning on his ash longbow. "So Sineon's letting them have a bit of fun before we go check out our work?"
"Aye. We leave in two hours." Kell sighed, gazed out past the rolling tide, and flopped down on the sand. "Fann?"
"Mm?"
"Do you ever feel like the world is against you?"
Fann played with a tiny crab, letting it run over his paws. "Every now and again. No one likes vermin but vermin. If you go up to, say, a woodlander, you are automatically a grubby, dirty, evil fleabag who should be taught a lesson. Same with hares and badgers, except they'll kill you on sight most of the time."
Kell nodded. "That's what I was thinking. That hare earlier got me thinking. He kept acting like I was completely and utterly evil, and thought the same of you and those two torturers. It drives me crazy. I'm just a Legionnaire. I don't have anything against hares in general, but we're at war! I'm supposed to kill them in war."
"Yeah, but they don't care. They never have, never do, and never will. To them, we're just another evil face to be obliterated."
They both fell silent, basking in the warm sun. Kell thought of every stereotype of a vermin that he could think of. Bully, ruffian, dirty, smelly, fat, evil, killer, doesn't care about anyone but himself, kill his mother for a crust of bread…that's enough to drive anyone to be mean, if they are thought to be like that, he thought.
Sineon pounded on the doors futilely with his paws. He turned to the Fraj.
"It's no use. Captain Ringlan, get your axemen and get us a battering ram. Captain Kell, sneak in and try to open the door."
Ringlan, a sour looking weasel who lead the squad of sappers that the Legion had, set off towards the woods with about a hundred at his back. Kell saluted, whistled, and started to climb the rocks. He could hear the rest of his squad underneath him. Slipping through an archery slit, he unsheathed his sword. Fann, Igna, Blecker, Marc, and Zarr all followed him into the cavern. There was no one in sight.
Kell grabbed a torch and set off at a run through the tunnels as his men—were they his friends, now, after all they had been through? Fann was, for sure—drew their preferred weapons: Fann, a bow and arrows, with a spear for good measure; Igna, a sword; Marc, a curved, shining saber; Blecker, balanced throwing knives; and Zarr, a sword and flail.
They could hear the thousands of Fraj below them, impatient and waiting. However, there was not a hare in sight. Kell shrugged, and walked into the main corridor to the bottom levels. One more door, and they would be at the entrance hall, and the main gate.
Sadly (and truly not unexpectedly), the door was locked.
The door that they had came through was snapped shut by a tough looking hare with a lance. They were trapped.
Hares dropped from concealed holes in the ceiling down to the ground; they came up from trapdoors as well. The sturdy hare that had shut the door called out in a loud, booming voice.
"Put down your weapons, you cringing daisies, or we'll skewer you!"
Kell looked around. Not one of his members dropped their blades, and, he was pleased to see, none of them were 'cringing'.
The hare sighed sarcastically. "We warned you, you black-hearted hooligans. Chaaaaaaaaaaarge!"
The hares pressed in around them, slashing shining blades. Phan's bow hummed five times, then dropped as he swung his spear into the mass of ears, scuts, and fur. Kell parried frantically, desperate not to be caught napping. One trip would make you a trampled beast in the room. He could hear Blecker's paws beating out a steady rhythm into hares. Igna had camoflauged himself, dispatching hares with dagger and sword. Zarr was grinning, swinging his flail into the hares. Kell vaulted over a surprised looking hare with a rapier to the door, smashing the hare who had been talking earlier in the chin with his sword hilt.
"Mates!"
Blecker and Igna both rolled under the hares and out the door. Zarr swung one last time into the hares, then ran after the others. Marc followed him, tripping over a huge, golden mass that was stumping up to the room.
The door slammed shut, and as if on cue, the hares stopped fighting. Fann and Kell were back to back.
"Welcome to Salamandastron."
A huge, golden badger locked the door and threw away the key somewhere into the room, under hare footpaws. Planting his feet, he unsheathed an enormous broadsword. The hares stepped back, and Kell and Fann were left to fight Lord Yulff, the Badger Lord of Salamandastron.
Kell heard his brother whisper, "Oh, hell, no."
Yulff charged, smashing Kell's blade to the ground, spinning, and running Fann through.
As if in slow motion, Fann gasped sharply, sank to his knees, and fell.
Kell stared, uncomprehending, then roared.
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"
Grabbing Fann's spear, he leapt into the hares, his eyes turning red, slaying everything in sight. He couldn't see the enemy. All he saw was his older, beloved brother, sinking down, falling, blood oozing from his chest.
Everything went black, and an enormous pain erupted on the back of his head. Kell fell down and knew no more.
Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews. I, too, grow tired of Mr. Jacques writing about 'cowardly' or 'bullying' vermin. The label of 'vermin' gives them a bad name right off the bat. And, for clarification: Fann's dead, Kell's alive. Sorry. Had to do it, based on personal reasons. Fox Pride!
