Author's Note: Yes, Mary as in Mary Sue. But as I said before, don't jump to conclusions. ;)

XXV: The Story

Ballantyne was trying to talk his way out of his situation, but it wasn't working. He was now bound at the footpaws as well, and forced to sit on the sand. Mary was surprisingly stubborn with her anti-vermin ideals. Ballantyne, although annoyed, decided he couldn't blame her, considering the vermin he had hung around.

"How did you know to arrive to this exact location?" Ballantyne asked, keeping an eye on the tip of the sword, in case the mousemaid accidentally moved it forward or something.

"I'm not telling you anything anymore! You're just going to use it against me somehow and hurt all my friends!" Mary shrieked, shaking compulsively. Ballantyne frowned, although he was careful to frown disapprovingly instead of maliciously.

"Honestly, I do not understand how you could possibly be under the impression that I am in any position to bring harm upon your friends, or how I could have possibly used the response to the query I delivered to you in order to create such a situation," Ballantyne replied. The ferret took pride in knowing that any other vermin would have lost his temper and probably scared the mousemaid into slaying them. No, Ballantyne reasoned, he was too smart for that, too calm for that. He didn't lose his temper easily, although his patience was wearing thin.

The tactician waited for an answer. But Mary wasn't paying attention to him anymore, which was a refreshing change. She was staring at something far beyond. Finally, she said, "It's them! The hares! They aren't all dead! Oh, joyous day! I have to alert them!" She looked as if she was going to get up and begin running, and Ballantyne hoped that she would, but the mousemaid paused before she even rose halfway. "Wait… I can't just leave you here alone! You'll escape using your hidden dagger and then stab me while my back is turned! It's exactly the kind of thing you dirty vermin types would do! But how can I get the attention of the hares without leaving you?"

The answer, Ballantyne found, was humiliating. Mary had decided that she would just take the "dirty vermin type" with her. However, she refused to sever the bonds on Ballantyne's footpaws, and he was forced to jump awkwardly along with her. The ordeal was not made any easier by the fact that the sword of Martin the Warrior was pressed against his back, piercing the threads of Ballantyne's good black coat.

---

Colonel Caldwell and the rest of his hares had turned around, running as fast as they could back to Salamandastron. Now, they were finally back. Caldwell knew he had made a grave mistake. How had Tabbins convinced him to do this? They needed to spring the trap on themselves, because they knew that Lord Oxpaw would act impulsively and get them all killed. Well, there was irony for you. It had actually been them that acted impulsively and gotten them all killed.

If Salamandastron had been taken… If Lord Oxpaw and the others were dead…

"Hey! Hey!!" shouted a voice that sounded far away and distant. Turning his head, Caldwell saw a very odd spectacle, obscured by the darkness of night: a mousemaid holding the sword of Martin the Warrior to the back of a ferret dressed in very fancy wear that was hopping up and down with all four of his paws bounded. If the situation hadn't been so dire, most of the hares probably would have laughed.

"'Ey, Caldwell," said Lieutenant Tabbins, "Mayhaps we ought to see if these two know what's going on before we just dash into Salamandastron swingin' our weapons and all. For all we know, Lord Oxpaw was able to rout the vermin already and we'd just look foolish. And if the worst has happened and those vermin… took over Salamandastron, then we'd be smart to try and think up a plan before just attacking them."

"I was already planning on stopping," Caldwell replied, "The mouse is holding the sword of Martin the Warrior. Something important must be happening."

Tabbins turned to the rest of the hares. "We're going to go see what those two want. I know you all want to find out wot happened and all, and so do we. So let's just be patient, okay?" There were a few groans from some of the hares. Tabbins ignored them.

"Well, we ought to figure something important out from these two, that ferret is Regner's right paw," Caldwell muttered to the lieutenant. Tabbins merely shrugged as they swiftly moved towards the two.

Mary the mousemaid began to run, urging Ballantyne along with her sword. The ferret hopped and bounced awkwardly, eventually just falling to the ground. Embarrassed and filled with shame, Ballantyne tried to get back up as quickly as possible, but just fell down again. Before he could try again, he was suddenly hoisted up by a couple of hares. The ferret's top hat had fallen off, and lay on the ground lifelessly.

"Hey!" exclaimed Mary again, "I'm so glad to see you! I thought everybeast was dead! I was worried that this vermin here would try to stab me in the back with his hidden knife! Oh, my name is Marettia, Mary for short. What's yours?" She clasped Colonel Caldwell's hook paw and shook it. The hares weren't sure if they were more confused by the ferret with the strange attire or the mouse with the immense zeal.

"Uh… I'm Colonel Caldwell, and that over there is Lieutenant Tabbins. You can meet the rest later. First, tell us, do you happen to know wot happened to Salamandastron, Mary?"

"No, not really," Mary replied quickly, "I was hoping that you would tell me. You see, Martin- his ghost, anyways- told me that I was the last hope! And I'm pretty sure that means I'm the last hope for Salamandastron!"

"I don't recall Martin ever sending somebeast to help us out before…" muttered Tabbins in the background.

"What about you, ferret?" Caldwell turned to Ballantyne, looking the tactician straight in the eye. Through his monocle, Ballantyne stared right back. "I know you know something about what's happened."

Dealing with hares was tricky business, Ballantyne reminded himself. He would have to be very careful. "I will gladly relate to you the story of what exactly transpired here, if you would kindly put my hat back upon my head. I believe I look terribly scruffy without it, to be frank." Ballantyne nodded his head towards the lonely top hat on the ground.

Tabbins unwittingly reached for it, but Caldwell batted his paw away. "Don't try to sound superior to us with your fancy speech and clothes," snapped the hare, "And don't try to mess around with us. You tell us what happened, you blinking vermin."

Ballantyne sighed. "As you wish, then, although I dearly would enjoy the return of my hat." He ignored a glare from the colonel. "Oh, where to begin? I guess I should inform you of my name, to begin with. I am Ballantyne, Chief Tactician to the late Lord Regner the Magnificent."

"Oh, so you're the mastermind behind this whole plan, eh?" Caldwell jeered, "We found your weasel friend, the one you tried to fool us into thinking was Regner, and he told us it was all your fault. Oh, by the way, he said he's waiting for you in Hellgates."

"Wait, did you just say that this Regner chap was dead?" Tabbins interjected.

"Two responses at once?" Ballantyne sighed pompously, "To answer the first query invoked upon me, yes, I was the mastermind behind this entire scheme. And, if I do say so myself, it was brilliant, as it obviously worked. But more on that later. And yes, Lord Regner the Magnificent has been slain, although not before he ended the life of your nefarious Lord Oxpaw."

"He's lying," Tabbins murmured, "That weasel could never kill Lord Oxpaw!"

"No, no, everything I relate to you is the whole truth," Ballantyne replied, "It is of my benefit if you are informed of just how genius my plan was, and just how expertly I carried it out. As you no doubt have guessed, I am very… proud. It's made me very despised by the other creatures I associate with, but I only boast about my achievements because I have a right to do so. You see, there is no glory in being a tactician. It is the warriors who garner all of the infamy and riches, whilst the tacticians pose meekly in the background, unknown to all. I could simply not allow that to happen. I deserve all of the credit for how Lord Regner the Magnificent rose to power, gathered a horde, and built his castle, and I have ensured that I receive this credit. I am less concerned with whether or not I survive this day than I am about whether or not my legacy will continue. That is a philosophy that you hares adhere to on the battlefield, is it not? So why the scowling faces? I am merely mimicking your own actions."

"We don't fight for glory," Caldwell was quick to reply, "We fight to protect our friends and family, as well as our homeland."

Mary whispered to Tabbins, "Can somebeast explain to me what's going on here?"

Tabbins replied, "I don't have a bally clue, but I'm hoping the colonel starts smacking this lousy ferret around, he's getting on my nerves."

Ballantyne was already prepared to say another speech. "Well, it appears that our morals and philosophies still are not very differing. I must say regretfully that I never have enjoyed the benefits of family, but I have had three great friends over the course of my life so far, and I devoted everything in my power to them. Regrettably, two of them are dead right now, since Lord Regner the Magnificent gave his life to slay your lord. Oh, and please do not mistake that for a jeer."

"I'm surprised you even have one friend, especially after seeing wot you did to your own comrades, using 'em as bait and all," Tabbins muttered.

"Do not believe that that putrid weasel was innocent," Ballantyne responded, "No, he had been planning to stab Lord Regner the Magnificent in the back for seasons now. I was only able to dispose of him today. He was a traitor, and I'm certain that you delivered upon him a just reward for his actions."

"We watched as he was torn apart by fish," Caldwell said, "He pulled himself out of the stream nearly a skeleton, left there to die an agonizing, slow death. I wouldn't wish such a death on anybeast, not even you."

Ballantyne suddenly realized he was treading dangerous waters. The only reason he was still alive right now was because they needed information from him. He didn't know why they disliked them; he had proved that they were both fighting for the same reasons, and he tried to appear as honest as possible… It must be stereotyping. The figured that just because he was a ferret meant he was inherently evil. Of course. However, there was no point in trying to rectify that situation. Ballantyne noticed that they were out in the open now, and there were enough hares as that the night couldn't hide them. It would only take one creature opening up the doors of Salamandastron for a breath of fresh air to spot them. And then, Deathblaze would rush to his rescue. After all, they were friends, right?

The ferret just needed to stall until that time. "Yes, a horrid death that must be, devoured alive by carnivorous fish. I would have been hoping you simply made a quick end to him, perhaps just a simple execution."

"The Long Patrol would never stoop so low as to execute any creature!" Caldwell nearly roared. Although outwardly taken aback, inwardly Ballantyne smiled. That meant he was safe. How could the hares simply kill a completely unarmed creature like himself?

"Only dirty vermin would do something so vile!" Mary added, as if feeling that she weren't contributing enough to the conversation.

"Please, must you utilize that discriminatory term, 'vermin'?" Ballantyne pleaded, "I have taken great measures to place myself above the implications caused by such a term, yet you still deride me?"

"Pah!" Tabbins snorted.

"You may dress nicely, and you may be clean, and you may talk properly, but a vermin's a vermin. Your actions tell me all I need to know. Conquest, traps, using your own soldiers as bait… It's despicable. And the fact that you try to justify it is even worse," Caldwell growled.

"Bad form," murmured some of the hares.

Ballantyne was crestfallen. How could these hares not listen to his reason? What was he supposed to do with Golding, let him kill them all in their sleep? Perhaps he had to garner their sympathy. "Please, I implore you. Listen to me. My life has been exceedingly difficult, filled with hardships. I do what I need to in order to survive. If I did not live up to my expectations, I would fall from grace with Lord Regner the Magnificent, and he would no longer have Sir Deathblaze protect me. Then, I would surely be killed by any of the many creatures that hate me."

"I thought Regner was supposed to be your friend," Caldwell replied, "What kind of friend would let you die just because you made an unsuccessful battle plan?"

Ballantyne looked down at his footpaws shamefully. It was all an act, of course, but the ferret felt a little pain from the hare's words. Just a little. Ballantyne rarely allowed emotion to penetrate his mind. It corrupted his ideals, ruined his plans. "You must understand," he said softly, "I use the term 'friend' loosely. As in, any creature that has never wished to kill me personally."

"How… pathetic," Caldwell muttered.

Ballantyne wished that Deathblaze would hurry up and spot him. These hares were reminding him just how lousy his life really was. How long had it been like this? He had left his home when he was twelve seasons old… then he met Regner two, maybe three seasons later… No, it was four, because he left when it was winter and met Regner when it was winter again… Or maybe it had been eight seasons? No, that was far too long… How could he not remember? Ballantyne had prided himself on remembering everything.

"So, are you gonna tell us wot happened?" Tabbins suddenly asked after a few seconds of awkward silence.

"No, it seems all he can talk about is how much of a blinking loser he is," Caldwell replied.

"Um… Should I be saying something?" piped up Mary.

"Why don't you tell us why you're…" Caldwell began, but his voice trailed off as he saw that Ballantyne's head was turned, looking towards Salamandastron. "What are you looking at?"

Ballantyne smiled, completely forgetting how bad he had been feeling just prior. "Oh," he said, with the pompous arrogance that he normally spoke with, "I'm just looking at Sir Deathblaze as he comes to slay you all."

Screaming and shouting, a lone stoat with a large broadsword was hurtling down the mountain towards the hares.