XVII: The Uproar
Deathblaze, the captain of the guard, was the one who discovered the unmoving Regner the next morning.
Deathblaze had entered Regner's horde fairly recently (at least, compared to Ballantyne, who seemed to have been Regner's tactician since the dawn of time), and he had swiftly and surely made his fighting prowess known. His promotion to captain of the guard had been incredibly swift. Of course, it caused the former captain of the guard, Golding's father, to betray Regner and attempt an assassination. Deathblaze had killed Golding's father himself. It had been a pathetic fight. Deathblaze cut down the creature that had once embodied the power and prestige of Regner's horde within seconds. It couldn't even be considered a duel.
Despite his almost unparalleled skill, speed, and power, Deathblaze was oddly insecure. In fact, Deathblaze wasn't even his real name. His real name seemed weak and flowery, and the stoat didn't want to have to face ridicule for it. So, he simply told everybeast that his name was Deathblaze, and no creature had ever questioned that. His insecurity was also why he wore the jacket to cover up his scars (not because he wanted to appear invincible to intimidate his foes, as Golding had suggested).
Deathblaze had a multitude of psychological issues, the insecurity just being the tip of the iceberg. Some of the disorders didn't even make any reasonable sense. Ballantyne had given the stoat a "psychological analysis", with the diagnosis being a whole entire slew of crazy words and terms that meant nothing to anybeast but the eccentric ferret. Deathblaze was aware he had problems. He knew what caused them all, too: His lousy family. Luckily, he had at least managed to hold on to his sanity, although he was sure Regner would love it if he ever went completely rabid: it'd probably increase his performance in battle immensely.
The closest thing Deathblaze had to a friend was Ballantyne, who at least seemed to understand the stoat's myriad of problems. Although nothing the tactician ever said made a lick of sense.
Deathblaze went over these thoughts every night as he guarded the main gate dutifully. It was the same repetition of the same ideas night after night. He thought about his family, how messed up he was, and his goals. Currently, those goals were kill every hare and badger in sight.
Every morning, he checked into Regner's office to give his report. This morning was no different.
Regner lay where Ballantyne had left him, completely motionless. Deathblaze stood over the body. There were no wounds or injuries. He looked at the desk, where a half-empty bottle of ale sat. Regner could either have drunken himself into a stupor, or he had been poisoned.
Deathblaze coldly figured the latter. Regner wasn't a profuse drinker. To make sure, he kicked the warlord. No movement. Regner's arm, reaching out for his axe, sagged like a heavy load.
It had been Golding. He knew it. His temper rising, working itself into the bloody wrath that always seemed to arise in the stoat prior to a fight, he drew his broadsword and smashed the half-empty bottle as if he were hitting it with a club. The table underneath it was nearly split in half, too.
The door to the office opened, and a distressed-looking Ballantyne dashed in. The ferret cursed inwardly; he had forgotten that the first creature who would discover Regner's body would be Deathblaze. Luckily, he had reached the stoat in time.
Deathblaze reared up, completely blinded in his fury. Ballantyne drew his small circular time measurer as if he were drawing a weapon, and began to slowly swing it back and forth by the shiny golden chain. It had been a treatment the ferret had designed himself in order to calm down Deathblaze when he got into these insane bursts of anger. Deathblaze turned, captivated by the slow, gentle rocking of the instrument.
"Sir Deathblaze, calm down, I implore you. If you engage in such a furor here, the castle will be devastated. Remember, reason over impulse. Reason… over… impulse. Reason… over… impulse."
The bizarre chant was working; Deathblaze sheathed his sword again, the intense anger fading away, draining from his eyes. He took slower breaths. "Now, please relate to me the situation that caused you to allow your emotions to run so rampant."
Deathblaze attempted to collect his thoughts; they were racing around his head too fast for him to get them organized. "Dead! Regner is dead! It was Golding, I know, I know, I know!" The anger began to rise again. Ballantyne continued the swaying of the copper instrument. Deathblaze calmed down again.
"Now, please try to maintain your temper, Sire Deathblaze. It is of vital importance," Ballantyne exclaimed, "Now, you claim that Regner is dead, and that he has been murdered by Sir Golding. I must first perform an investigation and gather evidence in order to verify this claim."
The ferret surveyed the scene briefly. He touched Regner's neck, mocking the action of checking a pulse. He examined the splattered poison for a few moments, smelling it and swishing it around with his finger. He removed a handkerchief from one of his pockets and wiped the substance off.
"Hmm…" Ballantyne began, "Yes, it appears that Lord Regner the Magnificent is deceased. According to my astute calculations, he ingested a toxin that could only have come from this puddle on the table. However… It is dubious to whether or not Golding is the perpetrator."
"Dubious?!" Deathblaze shouted. Ballantyne wished the stoat didn't feel the need to shout so often. "Dubious means that it's certain, right?!"
"Unfortunately, no," Ballantyne replied, "It means that it is questionable. It means that it is… uncertain. The evidence at the crime scene indicates that the assassin was actually… A Long Patrol hare!"
"WHAT?!" Deathblaze bellowed. Ballantyne shielded his ears. "I'LL KILL THEM ALL!!!"
Ballantyne swayed the metal circle back and forth once again. Deathblaze took a little longer to calm down this time, but he eventually did. He always did.
"Now, now, now, Sir Deathblaze," Ballantyne reassured, "I have already devised a cunning plan in order to destroy the Long Patrol once and for all. However, it requires your complete cooperation with whatever I say, even though I am sure that you will undoubtedly find some aspects of the plan distasteful to you. Do you believe that you can follow my orders exactly?"
"Yes!" Deathblaze shouted, as if annoyed that Ballantyne would even question his loyalty.
"Excellent. Now, I require you to gather every single soldier in the fortress to the mess hall, including Golding and his companions. I will be there briefly, after I create a few burial arrangements for Lord Regner the Magnificent. Do you have faith in your ability to do that?"
"Yes!" Deathblaze shouted again.
"Then, off to your task. We must work quickly, as the Long Patrol may attempt to attack us when they believe us to be weak and structurally fractured."
Deathblaze dashed off. As the door closed behind him, Ballantyne breathed a sigh of relief. His plan was working perfectly so far. Now, for the next part of the scheme…
---
The stoat Taroll was lounging about the left wall, where he was stationed as a guard along with three of his messmates: two other stoats and a fox (one of the few foxes in the entire horde; Regner had held an extreme distrust of them ever since a fraud seer swindled a good deal of his gold). They were discussing whether or not Golding would ever formally rebel against their leader, as they all knew he was already rebelling unofficially, when Ballantyne seemed to materialize out of thin air. The four saluted smartly but groaned internally at the arrival of the much-hated tactician.
Ballantyne had picked Taroll and his friends for this job specifically. Not only were they loyal and good at following orders, and they weren't aligned with Golding in any way, but they were also illiterate. That was perhaps the most important aspect, as loyalty could always change very quickly, but the inability to read could not.
"Hello, soldiers," Ballantyne announced cheerily, "I'm afraid that I have distressing news. It appears that Lord Regner the Magnificent has been assassinated by the Long Patrol." The four gave no reaction. They cared about Regner as much as they cared about Golding: That is, not at all. Ballantyne continued, "Your orders are to bury Lord Regner the Magnificent."
"That's it?" asked Taroll.
"Not exactly," Ballantyne interjected, "Lord Regner the Magnificent, in his last will and testament, decided on an exact spot in which he would prefer to be buried. Unfortunately, that location is a far distance from here. Follow me to Regner's office, and I will inform you of the path you must take in greater detail."
Reluctantly, the four followed the ferret to the room where Regner lay. As they passed by the mess hall, Ballantyne heard a pulsation of noise from behind the doors, and smiled, knowing that Deathblaze was performing his task excellently. They came to Regner's office, and stepped inside.
"What happened to the table?" asked one of Taroll's friends.
"I am unsure at the moment," replied the tactician, "But it is of no difference. Here, come view this map." Ballantyne unraveled one of the self-made maps and placed it on the part of the desk that had not been soaked by the remnants of the poison. "As you can see here, just east of this fortress is a stream. You are required to take Regner's body up past this stream, to where these two hills create a sort of pass. Do you understand?"
"That's a long way," Taroll pointed out.
"Yes, I am aware of this fact. However, you should consider yourselves fortunate. While you simply carry a body to this spot, the rest of the horde will be partaking in vicious, bloody battles against the Long Patrol. You will be perfectly safe from any harm that might befall you in these battles."
Taroll and his friends looked at each other. That was a good deal. Let all the other hordebeasts fight and die. They'd be safe.
"Sure, we'll do that," Taroll replied.
Ballantyne smiled. Perfect. "Excellent. You shall depart immediately. Oh, and one last article needs to be discussed." Ballantyne pulled a decently-sized folded piece of parchment out of his pocket. "This is a eulogy that I brilliantly composed for Lord Regner the Magnificent's funeral. By no means do you read this composition, although, as I am aware, you are illiterate, so you would not receive much value from the contents of this letter anyways. I will simply tuck this note in Lord Regner the Magnificent's armor, like this. There. Make sure this not is not dislodged or lost. This is of vital importance. Now, please depart."
The four of them eagerly picked up Regner's body, not wanting to have to engage in any sort of battle.
"Oh, and please bring Lord Regner the Magnificent's axe along with you," Ballantyne concluded as he walked out the door, "It was of much sentimental value to him, and I am certain that he would wish to be buried along with it. Oh, and know that if you decide to leave Lord Regner's body out in some ditch or drop him into the stream, I will know."
Ballantyne finally departed, taking a deep breath after having said so much. The second aspect of his plan had been successfully completed.
Author's Note: If you know your mental disorders, you may be able to pick out all the myriad of things that Deathblaze is afflicted with, and if you can do that, you may start to find that some of the disorders don't even make any sense when paired together. Deathblaze likes to blame things on his family, but you'll find out later that he was screwed up, even before then...