46. The Fateful Duel, Part 1.

Suran found Kethra sitting in "their" dining room, next to a window. There were no lamps or torches lit, but neither of them needed those. It was a very beautiful night, with countless stars shining gently in clear onyx-black sky and the land basking in the pure white glow of nearly full moon, which illuminated the room well enough.

"So, here you are, my brave warlady." The fox shook his head. "You should go to sleep, you know. By Vulpuz' fangs, you'll need every bit of your strength the next day."

"Do you think…" Kethra's voice was unusually quiet. "Do you think saving that bit of strength can help me? Help to stay alive?"

For a moment Suran's memory took him back, to the time when he was young and brash, and instead of the solid mountain stone there was swaying deck of a corsair ship under his paws, and he still had much to learn about fighting. "Eh, the ferret who taught me proper swordplay loved to say that when you face another beast in a fair battle, outcome is never sure. Your foe's chances might be like one hair against a whole pelt, but if he is ready for you, like, at all, he has chances, you know."

Suran did not mention that this piece of wisdom was meant as a warning against fighting fairly – as well as tormenting creatures that aren't down yet, and other such ways to give your opponents more chances – not as encouragement to take on stronger foes.

"You're only sure to die when you give up. Isn't that right, my beauty?"

"That's right." Kethra nodded. "Thanks Suran. Just gimme a minute. To breathe some fresh air, I mean."

The ferret tried to look and sound encouraged but Suran could see that was a façade, and a pretty shaky one at that. Judgment of character was not among Suran's strong points but after a lifetime of battles he could spot a creature who was saying her farewells to the world. Or a creature who desperately wished for deliverance, for somebeast to step forward and help her, only too proud to ask.

But Suran just stood there and waited, and watched. Of course, he was a better fighter than Kethra, even at his age – bigger, stronger, with longer paws, and thirty or more seasons of experience over her. Of course, nobeast could object about another vermin from their crew, moreover the very fox, who spilled blood at the root of the whole feud, stepping up as a champion. And of course Kethra was not just a comrade in arms. But Suran saw and heard enough of Heddin Wintersky to take good stock of the otter. He did not relish the idea of fighting this monster fair and square. Suran considered himself a brave and bold fox for all of his life, but there was bravery and there was putting his neck on the chopping block for the sake of another. Or so he said to himself. The fox shuddered, remembering the nightmare he saw on the first night at Salamandastron. Was it showing him the truth, after all? Was he nothing more than an infantile, self-centered bully, blessed with prodigious strength and fighting talent by a whim of fate?

And yet he remained still and silent.

And as he did, Kethra's heart sank lower and lower. Her nightmare was proven correct. Who could care about a beast like her? Not even Suran. Would at least Marroch wait for her in Hellgates, or would he cast her off for stupidity that was now going to send her there before her time?

Then Kethra saw movement behind Suran, and a second later she recognized Aldwin and Ewalt.

"Found you." The hare greeted her.

Kethra crossed her paws on her chest. She was tired of them all. "Are you here to encourage me as well? Maybe to tell me how brave I am?"

Ewalt took the initiative to answer. "What? I'd like to tell you that swallowing Heddin's bait with hook, line and…"

"Hey, slow down a bit, chap," Aldwin interrupted him. "We just came to say that my Lady has a little gift for you, Kethra, but you might want to try it on now, so she could adjust whatever needs adjustment before mornin'."

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Girding for the duel, Heddin Wintersky eschewed all protection but an open-face helmet and a mid-sized round shield. He wore a simple, if well-made, green kilt, no finery or baubles. A broad belt, on which hung a long Salamandastron-forged blade and a broad knife, completed the otter's modest battle garb. Captain Aldwin, who waited for the otters in an outer corridor, lit by the bright morning sun could not help but notice how much Heddin stood out among his retinue, with all the other otters wearing their best clothes, weapons and adornments, and wondered if this sort of modesty somehow doubled back to hubris.

As the group of otters drew nearer, Akkla slowed down and addressed the hare.

"Did Lady Violet send you to tell us something?"

"Nope." Aldwin was not looking at her. "Heddin, may I speak to you just for a tiny little moment in private?"

Heddin tilted his head and frowned. "What makes you believe we have anything to tell each other?"

"Nothin', really. Silly me, wot. Just thought you might listen for the old times' sake."

"Old times?!" Heddin's voice started rising to shout, before he stopped himself and exhaled loudly. "Everybeast, may I ask you to go on, please? I'll catch up with you in a moment."

Heddin's words were a request but his voice was forceful enough for a command. Akkla frowned but decided the whole matter was not important enough to start an argument in public. "Make sure that moment won't be too long, Heddin."

Aldwin looked at her back as she left. When he turned back to Heddin, the big otter leaned so close, that they could feel each other's whiskers.

"For how long," hissed Heddin, "for how long you're going to protect that… that vermin! After all she's done! Don't you see, we're now at each other's throats because of her and her company! Why can't you see vermin for what they are – heartless, honorless, accursed walking blight? Why?"

"I cannot see them for what they are?" Aldwin found his temper rising. Leaning any closer to Heddin without biting the otter's nose was impossible, so he tiptoed, trying to appear taller. "Now, that's rich! Am I the one who calls vermin honorless while preying on a ferret's honor?"

"She was simply against the wall! And I swear to seasons, she would be having second thoughts now, if not for you or somebeast else telling her that I would arm myself lightly, while letting her clad herself in steel from ears to toes, to make the fight fair!"

Heddin's accusation had just enough truth in it to make Aldwin angrier. ""Fair?" Fiddlesticks! If you wanted a fair fight you'd be naked and with your right paw tied behind your blinkin' back! I told her she's blinkin' goin' to die, and she still had the courage to accept the fight!"

"Courage?" Heddin spat. "I'll make her scream, and wail, and beg for mercy, before finishing her, let's see what you'd say of her "courage" then!"

He turned to leave but Aldwin, caught him by the shoulder.

"No! Please, Heddin, you're better than that!" Aldwin's clear desperation gave the otter pause.

"You're quite presumptuous about me, for a beast who refused and betrayed my friendship time and again." Heddin's voice was a low, dangerous growl. "I am what I am, and I do things that must be done. Some of them I do regret, like slaying beasts who weren't vermin but let themselves grow as evil as them, or forcing woodlanders to obey the rules that we all need to prevail. But wiping the vermin filth out from this world? If this is wrong, if vermin have an ounce of goodness and virtue between all of them, then may Earth herself refuse to bear me! May my life be short and death long!"

"But" – he brushed away Aldwin's paw – "you'll see that they don't!"

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A great crowd gathered to watch the duel – almost everybeast at Salamandastron, save leverets deemed too young for a bloody spectacle. The terrace chosen as its field was overlooked by a relatively shallow part of the mountain slope, so all or almost all onlookers were able to find a place from which they could see the fighting, though of course beasts of importance and respect got better positions.

Lieutenant Ranseur was among those. She secured a good, big stone to sit on. Not that it made her any happier.

"All this is so completely confoundin' crazy," Ranseur grumbled under her nose. "And they said bloodwrath-addled badgers were bad!"

The words weren't addressed to anybeast in particular, but one hare certainly heard them, as she walked up to Ranseur. "Be careful what ye're sayin', cousin. Or beasts might think ye're badmouthin' our ruler and commander."

"Nice to hear you carin' about me so much, Bascinette." Ranseur looked at her fellow lieutenant – and relative. "Maybe if ye cared as much about…"

Then noise from the crowd distracted both hares momentarily. The two parties to the trial of combat finally walked out from the mountain and were moving down the slope, Heddin in the company of his otters, and Kethra in that of Aldwin's hares and the Badger Lady herself.

"Nice armor that ferret muck-eater got there." Indeed, Kethra gleamed under her crimson cloak as she walked, morning light reflecting off polished plates of a magnificent three-quarters armor that covered everything from hips up. It was forged many seasons ago for a now-forgotten young otter who did not live long enough to receive this kingly gift, and thus suited the body shape of an unusually big and muscular ferret. Its Salamandastron origin was more glaring than the sun above to anybeast with an inkling of knowledge about arms. "I wonder if ye can tell me how it happened that ferrets walk in armors like this."

Bascinette simply shrugged.

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"Do you agree, with all honest creatures here as witnesses, to settle the strife between the Long Patrol and the Axehound clan with this trial by combat?" Captain Heorik clearly was used to making himself heard over howling gales, as his voice easily reached most of the crowd. "To let fates of battle decide on whose head death of Scrimmo the otter is? To take no revenge and hold no grudges for what happens today, whomever may die or live?"

Lady Violet thoroughly dwarfed the seamouse, so it was no easy feat answering him without letting their sheer size difference turn the scene from solemn to comical, but she managed, bowing respectfully. "I agree. Should Kethra of Ergaph lose, I would pay any ransom for Scrimmo's life that Axehound clan names, save for a ransom of blood."

Akkla frowned upon hearing the last words, and just waved her paw dismissively when Heorik looked at her. "If Heddin Wintersky of the Axehound clan loses this battle, I'd accept whatever punishment Violet Wildstripe would see fit for wrongfully accusing the Long Patrol hares."

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"As if that could ever happen!" Ranseur, up on the slope, sneered. "However good the armor is, there is still a vermin blighter inside. I'd kiss a frog if she puts a single scratch on Heddin. Or won't get the jitters before it is over. A nice position our Lady put the Patrol into, wot!"

Bascinette could only grit her teeth, not think of any counterpoint. She was unsure if Kethra even had what it took to be a real warrior. And Heddin was a legend! Before even growing to full strength he fought and maimed the boldest and biggest of searat captains, Enjo Greencloak, who raided the Axehound shores while most of the warriors were away inland. He managed to beat Aldwin, the strongest of fighting hares, in Aldwin's own game. What chance what chance did a mere ferret stand now, with no more opportunities for a sneak attack?

Brigadier Greyfield, standing not far away from Ranseur and Bascinette, was too disciplined to comment his commander's course of actions in public, but if looks could kill, a lot of creatures within his line of sight would have exploded into bloody chunks. He raised his eyes, unable to watch Violet for one second longer – and spotted something in the sky. A dark bird circling over Salamandastron, far, far above the range of any archer. The brigadier squinted his monocled eye, trying to see what sort of bird it was – and suddenly felt cold sweat on his back. A raven. This was a raven. The Long Patrol hares sneered at superstitious vermin, who saw signs and omens everywhere, but a raven! The strongest, wisest and rarest of all carrion birds, said to sense uncannily any slaughter great and bloody enough to leave plenty of unburied dead, soaring lazily in the sky, as if not having anything better to do than to watch the spectacle below. Surely this could not be good.

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"I want to tell you one thing, before steel starts talking for me." Heddin spoke quietly, so that the onlookers, now thirty steps away, could not hear.

Kethra peered at him through her new and uncomfortable helmet's visor and nodded cautiously.

"Aldwin doesn't want you to die, and whatever happened between me and him, we still owe our lives to each other. Yield, ask for quarter, loud enough for everybeast to hear, and you'll walk from this field alive – I'll only cripple your sword paw. Refuse, and I'll flay you bit by bit, armor or not."

Kethra moved a step back and carefully unclasped her heirloom cloak, letting it fall to the ground. "Yield to a braggart like you? I'd take flaying!"

Snarling the last word, she swung her battleaxe, but striking Heddin was no easier than catching lightning. Despite his considerable brawn, the otter moved with speed and grace, sidestepping every blow and making Kethra look foolish as she sliced only empty air time and again.

Then, when anger and the weight of the unfamiliar armor made Kethra lose balance for half a heartbeat, Heddin struck back. The crowd exploded with shouts of approval, but Kethra did not hear them too well, her ears ringing from a sound sword blow landed on her helmet that sent her staggering back. Before the ferret recovered, Heddin already was behind her, striking another blow hit the armored back of her neck, almost sending her to the ground. She had to run half a dozen steps before regaining balance.

"Yield." Heddin circled her, twirling the hefty longsword in his paw as if it was a reed. "That was just a warning. Life is…"

Kethra snarled and charged, but Heddin met her with a blindingly fast counterattack, his sword sending splinters flying from the ferret's shield and pushing her two steps back. Before those splinters touched the ground, the otter struck again, and again, giving his foe no respite, no opening to counterattack, hammering at Kethra so viciously that she was like a leaf caught in a gale, unable to do anything but trying to meet each blow with her shield. A couple of times she wasn't successful and the blade glanced off the steel plates that covered her.

And then, his own shield before him, Heddin rushed forward, tackling the smaller ferret and sending her to the ground with a cacophonic crash.

"Heddin!" A shout sounded from the Axehound otter crowd, as Heddin stepped back, allowing his opponent to rise – to fight or to her knees – and immediately more woodlanders took it up, including a good number of the hares. "Heddin! Heddin!"

"Yield!" Was Heddin forced to raise his voice to make it heard over the din of the crowd, or was it full of genuine anger? "Yield, you vermin! Say it!"

Kethra grunted as she got back to her paws. Spitting through the visor was not really possible, so she had to content herself with spitting out words. "Shut it and fight! Death on the wind!"

By luck or anger, this his time Kethra's charge was faster, but the otter's shield deftly caught her axe, swatting it aside. Then Heddin struck back with even greater fury than before. Steel clanged against steel and cracked into wood, as Heddin again drove Kethra back without mercy. Her shield boss flew away, torn clean by a tremendous blow, then the rest of the shield cracked in half and fell apart. She flailed her axe half-blindly in return, but Heddin moved with the speed of a diving falcon, hitting her from the right, from the left, from behind, and from the front again, making her sway back and forth like a training dummy. The otter's blade flicked with expert precision, biting into Kethra unprotected foopaws, below the faulds and chain skirt of her armor. He could have cut them right off, every warrior in the audience saw that, instead of merely shearing off fur and drawing blood.

"Yield!" Heddin exhaled with every new blow. "Yield! Beg! For! Mercy!"

Keen-eared beasts in the forward ranks of the onlookers could hear that over the crowd's own din. Everybeast could see that this was no longer a fight, and encouraging cries started dying down – only the Axehounds kept chanting Heddin's name. Aldwin bit through his lower lip as the otter's blade sliced at another body part not covered by armor and Kethra's tail flew away. Heddin was doing this because of him!

Then, snarling in rage, Heddin swung his nearly untouched shield, hitting Kethra's armored head with the sound of a smith's hammer, and sending her to the ground again.