On the coarse dock of the Kingdom of Tazzur, two foxes, one male, the other female, stood back to back, teeth bared as a gang of corsairs surrounded them, leering at the two unpleasantly.

"Let's spear 'em!" taunted one of the antagonists, brandishing his sword. "Let's show 'em how we treat traitors!"

The vixen hissed, showing a fine display of white, pointy teeth. She had stunning green eyes and sharp, attractive facial features, which, at them moment, were contorted in fury. "You insolent dogs—untamed minions and slavering rogues! We were only doing what is right—no beast deserves what you did to that poor oarslave. No one, not even petty little squirrels!"

"I beg to differ, Blana," sneered a stoat with one eye, aptly named Oneeye. "In fact, I think it can be arrange for you and your mate to be tortured likewise—even worse, if I can help it. No one defies the orders of Lord Tazzur and lives to tell the tale!"

"If a King is low enough to have a baby squirrel tortured for crying, he's not fit to be a King at all!" roared the vixen's mate, Tarquis. "Now, haven't we jawed enough? Or are you not even brave enough to strike the first move, scumbags!"

Oneeeye snickered. "Nay, I think we shan't attack youse quite yet…after all, doesn't Blana have a babe herself? I think it would be all the fun to let the two traitors see their brat die first, eh?" he said to his fellows.

One of Oneeye's troupe, a fierce looking ferret with a heavily scarred face named Gurgpaw laughed and nodded. "Aye, I say we bludgeon the little brat, then stick it a bit with our sword, then cut out its tongue, and rip out its claws, and finally, we can drown the little rat, what d'ya say?"

Blana had suddenly gone pale—she had forgotten about her babe until this point. "You lay a paw on Tyleeria and I'll chop it off, you rot-eyed, scumnose vagabond!"

Oneeye looked far from intimidated at this insult; in fact, he even laughed. "Ah, I likes how these two talks so pretty, doncha agree, Partooth?" he commented lazily. "They was always the gennelbeasts—or, might I correct meself, they was always the weakbeasts. Only the weak bother to talk pretty and swish around their jewels and prance around in silks!" he sneered, looking pointedly at Blana's fine garments.

Partooth, a foul-looking fox with scraggly fur, gave a barking laugh and looked at Blana with an amorous interest. "Say, how about yeh let little Blana off the hook if she agrees to be my mate instead o' Tarquis'? Give 'er a chance to show she's one o' us…let her kill her mate, and if she does, let 'er come off wid me!"

Oneeye grinned at this and agreed heartily, mostly because he knew Blana would never abandon Tarquis anyways. "You heard Partooth, vixen, we'll give you a chance—slay your own mate now, and I'll let yer warm Partooth's bed instead, eh?"

Blana hissed in rage and was about to pounce on her offenders when Tarquis jumped in front of her, slaying the first beast that jumped at Blana. "Get out of here!" he roared at her. "Save the baby, Blana, save the baby!"

With that, he sprang at his attackers, hacking with his sword and bruising with his heavy metal mace. All the beasts ignored the immobile vixen as they fought to slay the wild fox that was causing such havoc.

Blana gave a small whimper of surprise and fear, which attracted the attention of Partooth. Leering at her ferociously, he jumped at her just as she sprang into a run.

"Ah, run, run, my pore little darlin'!" he teased, brandishing his blade as he ran to catch up with her. "Come to me, sweetheart, so you kin feel the kiss o' my blade!"

Blana sighted her home—a fine den garlanded with flowers and bits of shining glass. Panting, she wheeled around suddenly, thrusting her spear in front of her. Partooth, running at such a speed, gave a scream as he ran into the spear's sharp point, unable to stop himself. Blana smirked before rushing away from the corpse, back into the safety of her home.

She tore into her room, where a small vixen babe lay sleeping; it's breath coming in and out gently. Blana seized the baby and hugged it to her chest, whispering to it consolingly. "Don't worry, darling, mama's here; mama will protect you!" Peeping from a window, she saw that no one else seemed to be on her trail—probably still fighting with Tarquis, she though. Leaping from her house, she raced down the street until she spotted the home of her close friend, Chawna.

She banged at the door desperately, and Chawna opened the door, surprised etched on her pretty face. "Blana, what are you doing here?" she asked, but Blana butted in the home, closing the door quickly behind her.

"What's happening? What's wrong?" repeated the confused vixen Chawna, but Blana thrust her baby into Chawna's arms, still gasping heavily for breath.

"T-take the baby, please!" she said, leaning on a chair for support. "Raise my baby Tyleeria for me, Chawna—I beg you!"

"Why can't you raise her?" began Chawna, but Blana cut her off.

"Remember when I stopped Oneeye and his friend from torturing and slaying those two baby squirrels?" she asked. "Remember that Tarquis and I slew Rouet for already tortuing one of the poor things to death?" Well, now King Tazzur has ordered that Tarquis and I to be slain for treason…it was his order for the poor little slaves to be killed, and we stopped it. They're after me now, Chawna, and I don't have much time! Take Tyleeria, and raise her as your own. I trust you, Chawna, so please, please, do this last favor for me!" Blana begged, her green eyes shining with tears of helplessness. "Everyone knows you also have a babe—you gave birth only a few days ago, eh? Twins, right? Well, can't you just say you had triplets instead? Please, please, help me!" repeated Blana, sinking to her knees in front of her vixen friend.

"I'll help you—I'll raise Tyleeria," agreed Chawna quickly, hating to see her friend grovel to her like this. "I promise you, I'll raise her like my own. Lucky for you, I won't have to say I've had triplets—what an unlikely tale. One of my twins died yesterday…. Your pup could convincingly take its place. But you, Blana, what will you do?" she questioned.

Blana ignored the question. "Oh, Chawna, one thing….my babe has an odd birthmark, right on her left footpaw. Lord Tazzur has gotten wind of this, so make sure you hide the birthmark with soot, so it will not give her away…

Chawna nodded. "Of course. But, Blana, what are you going to do?" she repeated.

Blana got up and smiled fearlessly, unsheathing her double sabres. "I'll give myself up to them, but not without a fight. I'll meet Tarquis at Hellgates, where we can share our lives together again, but not without bringing a few scumbeasts with me to clear my way first! "

"Brave and foolish Blana," said Chawna sadly, knowing it would be useless to try and persuade Blana to run and hide instead. "Run then, and meet your fate. I'll miss you!" she said in an outburst of compassion, unusual to vermin. "I will miss you very much, friend!"

Blana smiled, hugging Chawna briefly and stopping to kiss her baby one last time. "I'll miss you too," she said to Chawna, smiling wanly, and to her baby, she whispered, "Grow up tall, strong and beautiful, my babe, and never let foulbeasts like Tazzur and Oneeye oppress your pretty head. You're better than both of them combined, my dear, and let you not forget it!" she said compassionately.

Then, without a backward glance, she stepped out of Chawna's house and raced back up to the hill where Tarquis was slowly dying, half a dozen spears driven into him. His attackers were watching him die with a vindictive glee, still spitting and kicking at his prone form. The sight further enraged Blana, her eyes coming alive with a sort of frenzy.

"Oi, Uglytails, why don't you pick on someone's who's actually got a bit of life in her, eh?" she taunted. "Poking at a dying fox take a lot of courage, doesn't it, Oneeye?" she laughed coldly.

With this, she flung herself at Oneeye; her eyes wild and ears laid back on her head. With a rallying scream, she plunged her blade into the surprised Oneeye's chest, and he staggered, falling backward, immediately slain. When Oneeye's gang saw him fall, they all gave screams of rage as they threw themselves at the vixen, stabbing, thrusting, and plunging their blades into her body.

Blana slew two more of the beasts before the sabres fell limply from her paws. One of the rats shoved his sword into her back, and her eyes clouded as she fell next to the body of Tarquis, who had stayed alive only to see Oneeye fall. As she felt life slip away from her, Blana managed to smile as she though of Tyleeria, small, sweet, and innocent. "Don't stay here," she murmured, dying. "Get…away…from…this…place…when…you…grow…up…" she croaked, and then she died.

"Git away from this place when yer grow up?" repeated one of the vixen's killers, puzzled. "Wot's that supposed to mean?"

A fellow rat, Dargetail, whacked his friend across the ears. "Ah, yeh stoopid beast, she warn't talkin' to us! She was delusioning, yeh think lump!"

"Oh!" replied the other rat, rubbing his ears ruefully. "That's wot she was doing, harhar!"

Three of the rat's comrades gave him dirty looks, as if they thought he was thoroughly stupid, and he shut up abruptly. Dargetail prodded the vixen's body a few times with a spear, sighing with disgust. "Et was mighty stoopid of her to go traitor on us, warn't it, fellas? Blana warn't so bad, and neither was her mate, but they had to git funny ideas…they did us one last favor though, eh? She slew that bossy ragtail, goody-claws Oneeye," he spat.

Gurgpaw guffawed stupidly. "Aye, that she did, matey!" He surveyed Blana's bloody carcass for a few seconds before bending over it and snapping the dazzling jeweled pawbracelet from Blana's right paw. "She and Tarquis were richbeasts, weren't they?" he commented, pocketing his newfound treasure.

All of the other beasts were struck by Gurgpaw's words, and they immediately fell upon the two slain corpses, tearing away the fine silks, jewels, and expensive weapons that the two foxes had once possessed.

Mirage, a small female weasel with oddly dappled fur and eyes that seemed to glimmer different colors with her moods, twirled a decorative blade she had found on Blana's girdle. She was the youngest of the group—not even reaching full adulthood yet, but she was both good with words and with weapon. "I wonder what treasure they have in their den?" she said thoughtfully, her eyes shining a happy blue. "Who'd like to find out with me?"

Her friends gave a roar of approval, and a handsome male weasel named Tazicale who fancied Mirage gave her paw a squeeze as he winked at her. "Clever girl, yeh are!" he said fondly, looking at her hopefully, as if Mirage would suddenly give him a lavish kiss.

Mirage snorted, but accepted the compliment, then tore down with her companions to the traitors' home, which sat at the bottom of the hill, looking cheerful and inviting.Tearing down the door, Gurgpaw rampaged through the small, but grandiosely decked den, sorting through the many expensive ornaments to choose the best ones for himself. Mirage, however, wound herself around the main group of her companions, who were squabbling over a gold-wrought shield, and headed into the bedroom instead. She realized a good find when she saw one, pocketing a gold plate, a jeweled tiara, a silver and ruby pawbracelet, and two silk handkerchiefs embroidered with intricate designs before her fellow corsairs burst through, seizing as many fine items as they could.

"And to think I got first pick," murmured Mirage, smiling coldly, which strangely lit up her beautiful features. "Ah, now, look, so here's the little babe…!" she called loudly, motioning toward her friends to a large bassinet. "We'll see if Blana's brat has her parent's courage when she faces death!"

The half-score beasts left stopped fighting as they looked up at Mirage, interested. "The babe's there?" asked one of her friends.

Mirage yanked back the bassinet's silk curtain, and was disappointed to find it empty and bare.

"It's gone," she spat furiously. "Where is it? Where could it be?" she demanded, her voice sounding slightly childish for the first time in a long time.

"Why do you want it?" drawled Gurgpaw, raising an eyebrow. "What have you got against Blana's pup?"

"Blana's mate, Tarquis, slew my father," she whispered coldly. "I saw him do it—right before my eyes. My father, Rouet, was the one Lord Tazzur called upon to administer the torture and killing of those two ridiculous baby squirrels."

Mirage voice was childish no longer, and at that moment, she appeared to gain several seasons to her age with the fury she had etched on her face. Only pure hatred was stamped upon it—no other words would match the intense abhorrence she had for the two traitor foxes that had slain her father.

"My dear," comforted Tazicale, petting Mirage's paw., "Don't worry, we'll find the babe, and you can slay it to avenge your father. Rouet was a loyal Captain to Lord Tazzur's army, and we all knew him well. He was a good beast."

Some of the gang repressed snorts of disbelief at Tazicale's words. While they liked Mirage well enough, due to her charm and quick mind, they had never liked her father at all. He had been a pompous, fat creature, and many wondered how such an ugly beast could have ever sired such a beautiful female as Mirage. Tazicale shot them all furious glances putting leading Mirage out the door, motioning the others to follow him. "I think I know the only beast that Blana would leave her brat with. Come!" he ordered.

Chawna opened her door with trembling paws as she heard the knock that she had been expecting for some time. She peered up at the big weasel that smiled coldly at her. "May I help you, Tazicale?" she said politely, her left paw clamped on a dirk tightly. Her brown eyes radiated pure defiance as she faced Tazicale.

Tazicale bowed sarcastically before straightening and unsheathing his sword. "Blana has entrusted her kit with you, hasn't she?" he demanded, pushing the blade up to the vixen's throat in a menacing fashion.

Chawna pushed the blade away, her lip curling. "Of course she did!"

Tazicale was supremely taken aback. He had expected Chawna to deny any such action. Blinking, he regained his composure and leered at her. "Then step aside, vixen! Lord Tazzur's orders are that we get rid of Tarquis' family, right down to the last kit. Step aside!" he ordered again.

Chawna did not step aside, instead, she leaned against the doorframe of her house, looking contemptuous. "I knew you would be looking for her, so I saved you some trouble. I slew it myself, after Blana left it with me. I didn't want to get in trouble with harboring an illegal kit…so I killed it. If you'd like to see the body, I'll bring it to you."

Tazicale and Mirage's jaws dropped in disbelief. "You killed it?" they repeated, stunned. "You? We thought you were Blana's friend!"

Chawna grinned. "Indeed, I was, when Blana was still alive, but what's the use of staying friends with a deadbeast? Now, do you want to see the body, or may I get rid of it now?"

"Get the body," agreed Tazicale with a growl. "Then I will see if Blana's kit is really dead!"

Chawna nodded and went back into her home, returning with the slain body of a vixenbabe, complete with a cut throat. Chawna had nearly cried when she desecrated the body of her own dead kit, but she knew this was the only way. Straightening her face so that it was impassive, she thrust the babe for the weasel's inspection. "It's here, and it's dead, as you can see."

Tazicale inspected the body, taking extra care to look at the odd, crescent-shaped birthmark. He rubbed at it gently, and it didn't smear or rub. Satisfied, he flung the babe up in the air, and slashed down upon it with his sword, chopping the tiny body in two pieces. "You're right, Chawna, it is dead. Well, sorry, Mirage, but there's nothing we can do about it now…tis long gone to Hellgates."

Mirage shrugged and turned away. "As long as it's dead, I could care less. Let's leave now…I'm sure Chawna is sick of us standing in her doorway. After all, she has lost a loved one too, eh?"

At first Chawna thought Mirage had seen through her plan—that she knew that the dead kit was her own, and not Blana's. Then she remembered that her mate had been slain only a few days before, and relaxed. "Yes, indeed," she replied stiffly. "My mate was a brave creature."

Mirage could relate to this, and even though she had just witnessed the decapitation of a dead baby, she could feel the pain of losing a loved one. Vermin were very fickle creatures. Chawna closed the door gently as they beasts left her doorstep, and leaned against it, sighing with relief. After peeping out the window to assure that her visitors were truly gone, she hastened to her baby's bassinet, where her own babe, a fuzzy malefox, and Blana's babe were curled up together, sleeping. She smiled at them, stroking them both with a gentle paw.

"One day, revenge will be taken on Tazicale, for destroying the body of my poor dead babe," she whispered to her own foxcub. "You'll slit his cowardly throat for him, eh, Sparit? And you, Tyleeria, whom I must christen 'Deilia' after my dead child, will slay the others to avenge your mother and father, who were goodbeasts. I'll teach you all I know, and you will have your revenge!"