Author's Note: Here's Part III. It's quite different from the first two parts, which can be a good thing or a bad thing. It starts out with Part I characters, but later on, some Part II characters come back (not all, though; the Part II characters that don't return all show up in the Epilogue).
While I personally like this part the best, I'm pretty sure it's going to be a hit-or-miss type of thing. It's either the best or the worst. Well, I guess I'll let you decide that for yourself.
XXVII: The Persuasion
Skrobb was a medium-sized rat with no particularly special talents or skills. He used to fight with a cutlass; but he hadn't gotten into any trouble like that for a long time now. And he was proud of that. Let those young fools go off and get themselves killed in some horde, fighting armies of hares and giant badgers and whatever. Skrobb was perfectly content living in his little corner of Mossflower woods. The only weapons he used now were a small knife for peeling fruits and a fishing pole for catching his dinners.
It was mid-day now; the beams of sunlight shining through the tree branches created a pleasant ambience. Skrobb sat down on a small log, eating an apple and enjoying his surroundings. He hadn't been bothered in over a season now by anybeast, and that was exactly the way he liked it.
Because of this, Skrobb was also taken aback when he suddenly found that he was sitting next to a fox. Dropping his apple, the rat jumped up, drawing his small knife. "Who are ye and wot're ye doin' 'ere? I don't like foxes. In fact, I don't like weasels or ferrets or stoats neither, an' I the only rat I like is meself. So git out of here if ya know wot's best fer ya!"
The fox also rose. He was tall and lean. Skrobb couldn't help but notice that he had at least six weapons strapped to him somewhere: swords, daggers, a hatchet, and a scimitar. And, knowing foxes, Skrobb wouldn't be surprised if he had a lot more weapons, concealed from the eye. Holding only his skimpy little knife, the rat hoped that the fox didn't intend on hurting him.
"I didn't come here just to leave right away, y'know," replied the fox snidely, "So, I think I'll just stay. You don't really want to fight me with that little knife, do ya?" The fox motioned with a paw at his collection of weapons. Skrobb shook his head. "Good. Now, put it down."
Reluctantly, the rat laid down his knife. If things started to get dangerous, his only hope would to make a run for it. He knew the surrounding area pretty well; there were a few hollowed-out trees or foliage-obscured holes he could hide in if it came to that.
"Okay, so far, you've been good enough. A lot of the creatures I've met with tried to get a few blows in at me. Unfortunately for both of us, I slew them," the fox shrugged, as if it really didn't matter. "So, what's yer name?"
"Skrobb," the rat muttered simply.
"Skrobb? What kind of name is that?" sneered the fox, "Oh, calm down. I'm just messing 'round with you. My name is Conrad. I lead a good-sized group of assorted… travelers. We roam around a bit, but we mostly stay in the woods here. Of course, that's probably gonna change pretty soon, but I'll tell ya more 'bout that later." The fox gave a slight wink.
Great, thought Skrobb, a whole band of them. He looked around, trying to see where the rest of them were hiding, but he couldn't pick them out. "Whaddya want? I don't got nuttin' at all yew can steal, so I don't know why yer here exactly. If yew want me to join yer little group, then the answer's no. I had enough of groups an' hordes an' all that. Ain't worth nuttin'. Yew think ya have friends, but they jus' turn 'round an' stab ya in the back! I ain't goin' back ta that."
Conrad frowned, folding his arms. "Aye, that may be so, but think of the benefits! Loot, plunder, gold, all of it is yours if ya jus' sign this paper here." The fox seemed to pull out a single scroll of parchment out of nowhere and held it right in front of Skrobb's nose. The rat took a step back.
"Paper? Yew think I know how ta read?!" growled Skrobb, "An' I ain't gonna join yer little group, treasure or not! I've been promised plenty o' treasure afore, more treasure than yew can even imagine, whole boats full o' treasure! An' I ain't never seen a lick of it, I tell ya! Not one single piece of gold!"
The fox quickly rolled the parchment up and stored it away, a look of annoyance on his face. "Look, we can do this the easy way, or we can do it the hard way. Cuz yer gonna join us, whether you want to or not, y'see?" Swiftly, he drew two swords simultaneously, one in each paw.
Skrobb was torn between his instinct to run and his instinct to go for his knife, which lay lifelessly by his footpaws. He chose the latter, dropping down, snatching up the small dagger, and slashing forward at Conrad's legs haphazardly.
The fox leapt back. Skrobb dove and imbedded the knife in Conrad's footpaw, transfixing it to the ground. The fox roared in pain, dropping his two swords. The clattered to the ground noisily.
The rat went for one of the swords to finish the fox off, but Conrad had already managed to get his scimitar. Skrobb rolled to the side as the curved blade slammed into the ground where he had been just seconds before.
Skrobb realized that now would be a good time to run, while the fox was stuck to the ground and injured. The rat turned and bolted, kicking up a small cloud of dirt in Conrad's face. He got halfway out of his little camp before a large green monster flew out of a bush and tackled him to the ground.
Conrad reached down and pulled the small knife out of his footpaw, discarding it as if it were trash. He put away his three weapons and limped over to the spot where Skrobb and the green monster were.
"As I said," the fox spat, his footpaw in extreme pain, "Yer gonna join, one way or… another. Ugh, why'd ya hafta go and stick that knife through my paw?"
Skrobb was on the ground, a sword up to his throat. He was being held there by a lizard wearing the tattered remnants of a white cloak, now gray and dirty. The rat looked terrified out of his wits.
"Y'know, Davian," Conrad continued, "If these stupid creatures would stop tryin' to get away and just join us, then we wouldn't have to be so rough with 'em. But no, they gotta try to run away and stick knives in my footpaws. This one's lucky he ain't dead. You got the shackles?"
Davian looked up at his master with an indifferent expression, holding up a set of metal shackles connected by chains. The lizard's leg had been amputated after it was destroyed beyond repair when he fell from the roof of the abbey. None of the creatures in Conrad's group knew anything about medicine (except Conrad's sister, who had apparently left a long time ago after swindling all her brother's money and leaving him for dead), so they had just taken an axe and lopped off the leg. None of his group had actually wanted the lizard to hang around them, but Conrad saw it as a good investment. Davian was quick, strong, and intimidating, as well as loyal. Just the kind of creature he needed in his ranks. Conrad always had to keep the good of his group in mind, even more than what his group wanted. And so far, Davian had not failed.
"Whaddya want with me?" Skrobb cried, "Yew ain't gonna kill me, are ya?"
Conrad laughed, although it was forced and fake. "Kill you? Of course not. If I wanted to kill ya, I would've done so already. Nah, I need you to help row my new ship, whenever I get it. Davian, can ya chain him up?"
The lizard quickly latched the shackles around Skrobb's paws, and then hoisted him up off of the ground. The rat looked dismal. "Yew mean yer gonna make me a galley slave?!" he exclaimed, a dismal look in his eye, "That's… That's almost worse than death! Forced to row all day an' all night, with little food an' water… It's… It's…" Skrobb was at a loss for words.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Conrad replied, rolling his eyes, "We would've gone for peaceful creatures, they always make better slaves, but we didn't want Redwall or sumthin' to find out an' go all crazy on us. Now, com'n, let's get back to camp. Yew can meet the other slaves ya gotta row with."
Conrad nodded to Davian. The lizard began pushing Skrobb along as Conrad led, trying to hide his limp as well as possible.
---
It grew dark. Conrad had his injured paw up on his desk in his makeshift tent, examining it. He knew nothing about healing. If his good-for-nothing sister hadn't gone and left, stealing everything he had and leaving him for dead, he'd probably have his paw all fixed up already. He guessed he'd need to check if any of the creatures they had captured to be slaves had any healing skills. None of them probably did; most were even illiterate. Conrad frowned. He strongly disliked illiteracy, which was why he had tried his best to teach his entire group how to read and write. Some of them had caught on quickly, while others, such as the addlebrained Swiss, couldn't even write their own name.
Conrad wrapped his footpaw with a bandage after cleaning the wound. That would have to do for now. It still stung when he walked, but not that much. The wound hadn't been as bad as he had previously thought. The knife he had been stabbed with hadn't been made for combat, and the wound was pretty small. He should be better in a few days, maybe a week.
"Hello, Mister Foxy," said a voice behind Conrad, "I am back, and with a couple of weaselly creatures! Two of them, exactly!"
The fox turned around to find himself face-to-face with his second-in-command, Weltsnout the rat. Weltsnout was short and stumpy, and had a goofy, harmless-looking grin on his face, but he was plenty dangerous. Conrad knew that from experience. The rat would make a good assassin.
"Two? That's pretty good, Weltsnout," Conrad replied kindly. Weltsnout smiled. It wasn't a very good idea to make Weltsnout angry. "What's that put our total at? Do you know?"
"Twenty-three, exactly, Mister Foxy," Weltsnout replied proudly, "Including that ratty you brought in with you earlier this morning. Those weasellies were very tricky to find, livin' in a big tree thing."
"Well, you did good to find 'em," Conrad said, smiling, "Now, go an' get yerself sumthin' to eat, an' make sure that the slaves are bein' guarded well enough, okay?"
Weltsnout saluted bizarrely and sped off. Twenty-three slaves. That was a good number. It was more than the number of creatures in his group, that was for sure. Now, if only Wemys and Limptail would report back, saying that they found a ship, then things would really be able to get going. As always, Conrad had the good of his group at the front of his mind. Mossflower wasn't really such a great place for vermin to live anymore. There weren't any other vermin around, it seemed, especially after Regner's horde had been routed at Salamandastron. And the ones that were still around didn't want to join any groups or hordes, like his twenty-three slaves.
So, he had decided to move north. He had heard that there were plenty of vermin there he could recruit into his band, enlarge his numbers. Of course, getting north wouldn't be easy. Lots and lots of hard, cold terrain, marshes, swamps, mountains, all kinds of obstacles. They'd all be dead before they even got there. That's when Conrad had thought up his ship idea. They'd hijack a ship and sail up north. They'd collect galley slaves and row their way up there. He got Wemys and Limptail to search the sea for any sign of corsair ships that might land, while the rest of the group went and 'persuaded' the vermin hiding in Mossflower to join them.
All they needed now was for Wemys and Limptail to report back. Conrad already had a plan for how to steal the ship; that wasn't an issue. But when would a ship ever arrive?
Swiss walked into the tent, holding his nose. "I loogged fer more slaves, bud all I found was this odder that knogged me silly! He broeg my nose!"
Conrad sighed in exasperation. "Swiss, just get out of here," he replied, growling. Swiss did as he was told quickly.
A few minutes past. And then Swiss ran back in. "What now?" asked Conrad in annoyance.
"Id's Limpdail, Conrad! He's bagg!"
A wide grin appeared on Conrad's face. Finally, he would have his ship.