Sorry about the long wait everyone, I've been working on a different project that's kept me busy for the last month or two. But now I'm back and hoping to focus on this for the next few chapters.

A Rat's Scheme

He awoke to pain. A dull, searing pain that pierced his chest, his back, his arm. Pain was good. It meant he wasn't dead yet. Thane groaned and slowly opened his eyes. From what he could make out of his surroundings, he appeared to be lying on the ground inside a dimly lit cave. If he raised his head he could see the mouth of the cave, but outside was too dark to see anything. He was lying on a bedroll and wrapped in a thick blanket. Pushing the blanket aside, he saw fresh dressings on his wounds.

"You're finally awake."

The voice made Thane look up. Through his blurry vision a face swam into focus; a grey and white furred wolf. She wore scaled armour of red leather under a blue cloak with a thick, white fur collar. The brooch that fastened the cloak was shaped like the eight-pointed star of the Iron Tribe that Thane wore on his brigantine, though he knew she wasn't Iron born.

"You...You're...River?" He remembered now. The daughter of the Snow Tribe's Chieftain, River the Howling Arrow. They had met a few times, often at tournaments. Whereas Thane excelled at dueling, River had taken to archery and was a champion renowned for her aim.

"Good of you to remember."

"What are you doing here?" Thane looked back down at his body, then quickly pulled the blanket back over himself, "And where are my clothes?"

River rolled her eyes and turned away. "I was in Sprucevale when your letter arrived. It sounded like you were in trouble so I came looking for you. You're lucky I found you when I did."

"Thank you." Thane mumbled.

River rounded on him again, "How could you be so reckless? You're the only heir to your tribe, Thane, you could succeed your father as High Chieftain of the entire clan! What if you'd been killed? What are the High Council going to think?"

Thane sighed, "It was supposed to be an easy job. Go to Southbank, meet Heimdall, investigate the Rat Clan."

"So what in the Wyld's name went wrong?"

"We were attacked by the King's Guard."

River blinked, taken aback, "...What? Why?"

"I..." Thane shook his head, "I don't know. But apparently I've been branded a traitor."

"I don't understand, the King wouldn't order something like that."

Thane shrugged, "There's something more going on here. Snowstrider was right, something is very wrong."

"Well, let's ask her about it. I'm taking you back to Stonehold. Do you think you can walk?"

"Yeah." Thane pushed himself up into a sitting position with a grunt, "I'll be fine."

"Good. Get ready." River dropped Thane's belonging's in a pile by his side and walked toward the mouth of the cave.

Thane stood, a little unsteadily, and quickly dressed. He pulled his hauberk over his head, letting the long mail shirt drop onto his shoulders, followed by his brigantine. Finally he buckled on his sword belt, one hand lingering on the empty sheath at his hip.

"My sword?" He asked.

River turned back to face him again, shaking her head. "I didn't find it where you were attacked. Sorry."

Thane snarled, his fist lashed out and struck against the rough stone wall, "Damn it! I couldn't even keep that safe." He shook his head dejectedly, "The elders are right, I'm not fit to lead the Iron Tribe, let alone the Clan."

River sighed and grasped the fur at the back of Thane's neck, her harsh grip almost painful. "Thane, normally I'd agree. However, I came out here expecting to help the son of the late High Chieftain, and now I learn that I'm harbouring a fugitive from the King. I don't know why, and neither do you, but what I do know is that we can not stay here much longer. So please stop feeling sorry for yourself and come along or I'm leaving you here to die."

Thane stared into her eyes. She held his gaze, unblinking. Eventually he relented, "Alright, let's move." He shrugged off her hand and walked to the mouth of the cave. Behind him River hurriedly packed up their small camp and doused the fire.

Mercurio strode down the stairs into the tavern, yawning expansively. He located Nat and Skeeve and dropped into a chair by their table. "Would you care to tell me why you've woken me at this hour?"

Nat sat back, eyes closed, "Thane's alive." She said casually.

Mercurio immediately rounded on Skeeve, glaring.

The trader recoiled slightly, then straightened and slammed a fist on the table. "I'm telling you, that's not possible!"

"Then maybe you can explain why he was spotted heading back to Stonehold in the company of a Snow Tribe huntress."

"My contacts-"

"Dead."

"How?" Mercurio growled.

Nat shrugged, "Snow Tribe huntress."

Mercurio took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "What now?"

The spymaster opened her eyes and leaned forward, planting both elbows on the table and steepling her fingers under her chin, "Thane's alive, but not unscathed. He'll hole up in his fortress and lick his wounds. Once he's recovered he'll resume making his way to the Winterhorn Mountains."

Skeeve scratched his ear, "I'm inclined to interfere with his plans. But it'll be difficult while he's on the move."

"That's no problem. We simply act where we know he'll be."

"Fine." Skeeve nodded, folding his arms, "I have a few other contacts in town-"

Nat held up a hand, "No. I know some mercenaries we can hire, men who'll actually get the job done." She shot a pointed look at Skeeve. "They can lie in wait in the Fleetfoot Hills. That'll cut Thane off from the mountains."

"Well, it ought to slow him down at least." Skeeve muttered.

Mercurio nodded, "Take care of it. And as for our own plans," He glanced between the cat and fox, "I trust you have something."

Nat grinned, "I've heard whispers." She lowered her voice, leaning closer, "I know where we must go. This Rot tool, the one Thane's been chasing after, I've managed to track the thief who stole it. He was last seen climbing Winterhorn."

"That explains Thane's interest in that area." Mercurio mused, "We need to get there before he does."

"I have a source in Sprucevale, a miner. She knows those peaks well."

"Then we'd best leave at once."

"I thought the same thing." Skeeve tapped his temple, then produced a map and unfurled it on the table. "While you were sleeping I went to speak with a local strategist. For a few leos he was more than happy to mark a route that'll get us to Sprucevale before dawn."

Mercurio studied the map, tracing the marked route with one finger. "Well done Skeeve. It seems you may still have your uses after all."

"I'm hurt that you'd ever doubt me." Skeeve stood with a slight bow, "By your leave, Baron."

The trio left Southbank and entered the Onyx Hollow, travelling between the still trunks and on into The Shadowglen. The eastern horizon was beginning to brighten as they rode out from the forest and onto Moss Meadow. Sprucevale loomed ahead of them, a dark shadow sprawling at the foot of the Winterhorn Mountains, the lights atop the walls burning low.

Skeeve pulled up alongside Mercurio, "Remember, Thane may have set a trap up ahead. We'll be walking right into it, but there's no other option."

They continued on to the town, reigned in their horses at the stable and entered.

Mercurio adjusted his sword belt as he looked around, "Nat, take the lead. Skeeve, keep an eye out for trouble."

Nat led them off the main road and down a shady alley into a network of narrow back streets. "It seems this town's under curfew. It'd be best if we weren't spotted roaming the streets."

They passed by a few others in the twilight of Sprucevale's alleyways, loitering in ones or twos, or in ragged groups. Many had their faces shrouded by hoods, those who didn't wore bitter, worn looks, haunted eyes watching from the shadows. Most shrank away from the sight of the three newcomers, others stood straighter, tense, but none tried to impede them.

They were passing by one such cluster of miscreants when a motion caught Mercurio's eye. Among the faces he spotted a scrawny black and white cat dressed in dull coloured and loose fitting clothes. He slowed his pace, eyes narrowing, watching. The cat held his gaze, pale eyes flashing. Then a flicker of movement as the cat rushed straight for him. Mercurio barely had time to react, reaching for the hilt of his sword. The cat ducked under his sword arm before he could draw the sabre. He felt a tug at his belt and spun on his heel, steel flashing as his dagger whipped around, slicing the air. The cat somersaulted backwards, dodging the strike, and danced away. She fled into another alley and, with a single glance back over her shoulder, climbed straight up, bouncing from wall to wall until she disappeared over a parapet and vanished.

Skeeve ran a few paces after the thief before turning back, scowling, "She stole your adventurer's kit. I had my lunch in there!"

Mercurio rammed Thorn back into its sheath and grabbed the trader by his tunic. "That doesn't matter! Just let it go!" He shoved Skeeve away and rounded on Nat, "These setbacks are starting to agitate me. This miner had better be worth it."

Nat held up her hands, "It's not far from here, lower your voice and follow me."

Mercurio looked around to see that they were now alone, the bystanders having melted away into the darkness. He snorted and nodded, indicating Nat to lead on.

A few minutes later Nat led them out onto the corner of a wider street. She pointed to the other side of the road. "That's the place."

"Alright, let's go." Skeeve stepped out into the road. Mercurio quickly grabbed his arm and pulled him back into the shadows.

"Wait!" The rat pointed down the street to where a King's Guard was patrolling. "I'll handle this."

"She'll be expecting you." Nat whispered, "Knock twice by the handle, wait three seconds, then once by the top hinge."

Mercurio nodded and crouched low, eyeing the guard as he made his slow approach. Just as the hound was about to pass by their hiding spot, Mercurio burst from cover, softly pattering across the cobbles, just out of sight. He skimmed past the guard's back, close enough to touch, and was across the street.

He knocked on the door of the miner's house as Nat had instructed. A few seconds of silence passed, followed by the sound of a bolt being drawn back and then the door swung open. Inside stood a grey haired goat, tall and burly, dressed in a roughspun green cloak. She glanced up and down the street, then stepped back. Mercurio turned and waved for the others to follow. They hurried across the road and into the house. The rat followed, pulling the door shut behind him.

They found themselves in a small, stone walled kitchen. There was a simple wooden table in one corner, and comfy chairs surrounded the stove.

Nat gestured to the goat, "Mercurio, meet Ulak Bal. She's been one of my top informants in this region for several years now."

Ulak clasped Mercurio's hand, "Pleasure t'meet ya, m'lord. Any friend o' Nat is welcome here. I hear ya need t'know 'bout tha mountains. I know that place better'n anyone else round these parts. Anythin' ya need, jus' ask."

Nat dropped into one of the chairs by the fire, "Now we plan our next move."

The light of dawn lanced down from the high, vast windows of stained glass, taking on the many hues and cutting through the haze of gloom to pool languidly on the marble flagstones. The air in the throne room was still, even the thick motes of dust caught within those slanting pillars of radiance barely moved.

From the great double doors of the chamber to the raised dais at its centre were two ranks of King's Guards, each twenty five men strong. They stood at attention, unmoving, almost like statues. Beside the dais itself stood Barrus, captain of the King's Guard. His face was uncovered, muzzle grey, eyes sunken but glinting with cold malice. His armour was lined with deep blue stones and his cape was embroidered with the King's own sigil.

Upon the dais stood the great marble throne of Armello; it's back reaching ten feet tall, its seat wide enough to fit two side by side. The figure slumped on the huge stone chair was bathed in deep shadow, a silhouette with all detail concealed in the darkness.

The room was utterly silent but for a constant, low growl which thrummed and reverberated like distant thunder. It was a chilling sound that seemed to curse the very light that invaded this sepulchral sanctum.

Soft footsteps echoed off the walls as a newcomer approached. A tall rabbit stepped into the light at the foot of the dais. His fur was russet brown, frosted with age, the silver streaks accentuating his noble features. He wore a formal robe, gold slashed with black, and his head was crowned by a golden circlet set with black stones.

The rabbit gave a small bow. "Majesty..." He paused. Silence. "I wish you would tell me what was on your mind."

The low growl ceased. There was an intake of breath, a soft whisper in the half light. The King's eyes opened slowly; two crystalline orbs of deep, clouded lilac, lit from within by a pearly white glow.

The rabbit sighed and began pacing before the throne, "You began ignoring my counsel, I told myself to let it go. You ordered these...purges," His eyes flicked to Barrus for a second, "I ignored it." He frowned, "Why do you insist on attacking the Wolf Clan? What did the Winter Wolf do to anger you so?"

The King continued to observe the rabbit, seemingly unmoved.

The rabbit spread his hands, voice edged with frustration, "Majesty, please, as your Lord Steward I care for you as I care for all the people of the kingdom! There must be some reason for this sudden turn, if you'll just-"

"You care for me, Florian?" The King cut his Steward off, his voice a deep rumble, soft but menacing. "As your brother cared for me? With poison? And plotting?" His voice rose to a roar and he surged forward, almost rising up out of his pit of shadows.

Barrus motioned with one hand and two guards materialised beside Florian, their halberds crossed, trapping the Steward's neck between them.

"I would have believed you had learned the price of treason long ago, but perhaps I need take your head as well!"

"Your paranoia will tear down all you have built!" Florian retorted.

The King sucked in air, teeth bared and flashing. Then he slumped back into his throne. "You deserve death for this insolence...But I am loath to leave your clan in the hands of a mere child." He thrust out one arm, pointing towards the doors, "Florian of the Rabbit Clan, I hereby strip you of the title of Lord Steward and banish you from the capital! Leave before my mercy runs dry." He gestured to the guards that still held Florian in place, "Remove him from my sight!"

The guards bowed and grasped Florian by the arms, dragging him away from the dais.

"Where does this path lead you, Ariel? Where does it end?"

The great doors swung open and slammed shut once more with a hollow boom of finality.

Silence fell once more like a thick shroud. It lasted several minutes until the King pushed himself to his feet. He turned to Barrus. "Attend me." He muttered before stalking out of the throne room and into a side hallway.

The climb to the top of the palace's tallest spire was long and arduous. He refused to be slowed. The King reached the top of the winding staircase and stepped out onto the highest balcony in the capital, into the bright sunlight. He let out a hiss through clenched teeth. It was painful to be up here during the day but it was still his favourite vantage point. From here he could see out across the entire city, and the kingdom beyond. His kingdom.

Barrus followed close behind, panting slightly from the climb. The King spoke without looking at him, "The Wolf Clan are cousins of your own kind. Tell me Barrus, if they were to become my enemy would you harbour any regrets?"

The hound replied without hesitation, "The King's Guard exists to serve you and you alone, Majesty."

The King smiled. "Good." His eyes narrowed as he stared into the distance, then closed. He breathed deeply. A breeze stirred his mane and cape. Barrus took a few stuttering steps back as a sense of pressure seemed to build around his liege. It was barely perceptible but the King appeared to be momentarily cloaked in an aura of light, faint green tinged with purple. Then he raised one hand above his head. "I call upon the Wyld. Heed your true master!"

A pulse of blue-green energy shot from his palm, rocketed into the sky and vanished. There was a peal of distant thunder.

After discussing the mountains near Sprucevale for some time Ulak had lent her guests the use of her loft room to rest until they were ready to depart. It was a tall house and the narrow window looked out on the town's perimeter wall and the countryside beyond it. It was a clear morning and Stonehold could be made out on the horizon, in the distance past the peaks of Winterhorn.

Mercurio and his companions had been relaxing, playing cards. The rat was just starting to get comfortable on the thin mattress he was perched upon when something made him look up sharply. The fur on his neck prickled. "Do you feel that?"

Skeeve looked around while Nat narrowed her eyes and seemed to shrink into herself a little. "Something's coming..." She murmured.

"What?" Skeeve asked.

"I'm not sure. Something powerful."

There was a flash outside the window. The three leaped up to look. What they saw was an enormous lightning bolt like a blade striking down from the sky, pure white edged with a green haze. It vanished as quickly as it had appeared. A peal of thunder, like the roar of some huge beast, rang out. It rolled up the mountains and down the other side, rattling the window pane as it crashed over the town. Mercurio ducked away from the window, blinking at the purple streak that split his vision.

"By the Wyld!" Skeeve yelled, "That was a lightning strike spell!"

"Where did it come from?" Mercurio asked as his vision started to clear.

Nat turned and pointed, "That way. From the capital." She sounded grim.

"From the King?" Skeeve was incredulous, "It hit the Fleetfoot Hills. Thane's probably there right now! Why would the King attack the prince of the Wolf Clan?"

"For the same reason he was branded a traitor." Mercurio muttered, "Whatever it is we're chasing after."

Nat shook herself, "Quick! We need to report back. The King has been acting strange, and we must tread very carefully."

"No."

Nat and Skeeve both looked stunned. "What?"

"You can go report to the Order. I've come too far to turn back now."

For a moment Nat looked as if she would argue. Then she simply took Mercurio's hand in hers, "Then this is where we part ways. Good luck." She set about packing up her things.

Skeeve glanced between the fox and rat. "Just...don't do anything too hasty, alright friend?"

Mercurio grinned, "Skeeve, what did I tell you? Greatness and riches await us. And nothing will stand in my way."

Thane sat up. Just a second before the flash of light and the wall of noise there had been a group of tough looking warriors standing in their way. He and River had been prepared to fight. Now where they had stood there was only a crater of glassy soil, fringed by burning grass and a couple of jagged, charred tree stumps.

He was vaguely aware of River struggling to pull him to his feet. Slowly, as if he were surfacing from a deep pool, her voice swam into focus.

"Get up! Come on, we need to get back inside the castle! Now, Thane!"

Somehow he managed to get his feet firmly planted under him. He nodded dumbly and turned. Half limping and half leaning on River, he began his second retreat to Stonehold just a few short hours after leaving it behind.