Author's Note: Regner is the warlord that Ballantyne basically had on a leash, who supposedly got killed just before the attack on Salamandastron. Oh, and the flashback is still in the rpesent tense. .

XXXII: The Inferno

Regner opens his eyes. It's dark, smelly, and something heavy is on top of him. He can't see a thing; it's all black. He has trouble remembering what happened at first, but as he struggles to get out from underneath whatever it is that's crushing him, he begins to remember. He was in the hall, and the badger was there, and so was Ballantyne. Then, the badger cut off the head of this one fox, and—

Oh, yes. That's right. Regner slew the badger lord. Regner the Mediocre, never to amount to anything due to his own skill, just a puppet to Ballantyne's plans and ideals, slew Lord Oxpaw. It's a good feeling. All the nay-sayers, all the disbelievers, all of them are disproven now.

He struggles out from under the badger. It's quiet, which could be a good thing or a bad thing. At least there aren't a whole bunch of hares running at him with spears. Next to him is the headless fox, lifeless eyes staring at him creepily. Regner never trusted foxes. Good riddance.

Neither Ballantyne nor the one stoat that Oxpaw had been holding are there. Regner guesses that too is a good thing; if Ballantyne could get the message back to Deathblaze, then the hares had no chance. But the silence is unnerving. If they had won, there would be hearty cheers and celebration.

Ballantyne must have thought he was dead, that's the only way the ferret would leave him there. And Regner must admit, it probably did look like he was dead. A huge badger tackled him with an insane bloodlust. How had it not killed him? Regner looks down at his armor. That's why. The armor saved him.

It's not a very good explanation, but Regner goes with it. He tries to get up and a giant streak of pain whips through his body. The weasel decides to check to see what's broken; he knows something is, from that pain.

The weasel determines that he's got a broken arm and several broken ribs. His legs seem okay, which is a good thing. Very carefully, he rises up again. The pain shoots through his body, but it's not as intense as before. He finds he can walk. That's good. Walking is good.

Regner reaches for his huge axe, still embedded in the badger's shoulder, but realizes that there's no way he can lift it with only one arm. He doesn't even try; there's no use. He'd have liked to have kept it, to remind him of his amazing feat, but he settles on simply reclaiming his much lighter weapon; the throwing knife that ended the badger's life. Easily, he yanks it out from between Oxpaw's eyes, and stashes it back in its sheath. Then he walks down to the main hall.

He reaches the entrance and freezes. No wonder there isn't any noise. The main hall is a veritable sea of death and doom. Bodies are everywhere, layers and layers of bodies. It's like a small mountain of the dead.

Regner spots a few of his old soldiers, like Hairmold and Kalzmar. But there's no sign of Ballantyne or Deathblaze, which is a good thing. The weasel wished Golding's body was there, though; he'd have enjoyed kicking it.

He walks through the bodies, unable to avoid stepping on them. He doesn't see any injured soldiers anywhere; everybeast here is dead. "Ballantyne!" he yells, and his voice echoes throughout the room, unanswered.

Trudging through the bodies, Regner reaches the front door and peers out it. It's still dark; either he was out for an entire day, or he wasn't out very long at all. He decides on the latter after seeing a group of forty creatures outside.

Half of them are hares; the other half are his soldiers. Regner sees Ballantyne, completely tied up. "An execution," Regner says to himself, "They're going to execute them all."

Regner can't bear to watch. The hare in charge is angry now, yelling things. Regner begins to run as fast as he can, his ribs burning in pain. Nobeast sees him; he's too well hidden by the night. He never looks back, lest he watch as Ballantyne and the rest are slaughtered. But there's only twenty hares left… He can easily get his vengeance on them for what they're doing to his soldiers. Easily. And then claim Salamandastron for real in the end. Which may be the real reason he wants to return. In fact, it probably is. But the vengeance thing seems like he'd be able to garner more sympathy with it

So, Regner promises himself that he will return. And he will kill every last hare in that mountain. Why wouldn't he?

---

The ship sailed a little farther, until Salamandastron was much more clearly in sight. Then, Regner dropped the anchor and led twenty-one of his released slaves, his hostage, and the five of Conrad's crew that he had allowed to go free to the beach. He left two of his newfound soldiers to guard the other eleven prisoners. When he was actually going to fight, he would bring those prisoners ashore so they can lead the charge. But, until then, he was going to keep them where he knew they wouldn't escape. The thing he needed the least right now was a rebellion, something Regner had never had much luck with. First Aulder, then Golding had both betrayed him. He wasn't going to let Conrad ruin his plans for revenge.

He had already promoted some of his soldiers to captains; Telson the ferret and Skrobb the rat. They would never be as effective as Ballantyne and Deathblaze, but they were both decent enough fighters and had good heads on their shoulders. He had considered promoting Wemys to captain, hoping that maybe he shared Deathblaze's immense strength and skill, but he had held off on that for the time being. He still wasn't sure if he could trust the stoat not to try and save his friends onboard.

Wemys was a little depressed. Regner had told him that his brother was dead. The stoat had never particularly liked Percival, especially after how he had just up and left after their sister died, but they were still brothers. Wemys was now the last member of his family still alive, he realized somberly.

The members of Conrad's crew that had been let out had grouped together amongst the new soldiers, with Kleid and Yugu a little worried over the dubious reasons why Regner had allowed them to leave. Davian stood in the center of the group, his eyes darting back and forth. He, too, was dealing with the realization that all his friends were dead.

The rest of the army, the now-freed slaves, were all plenty happy. They were free, they were armed, and they were going to take over Salamandastron. What was wrong with that? Sure, a few of them (all sporting large cuts down their faces) all gave Davian and Yugu malicious glances, but they were all rather willing to put the past behind them in exchange for the glorious future Regner was promising.

Only Buvul was uncertain, holding his bolas as if he were going to club somebeast with them. He walked in the back, his bloodshot eyes darting back and forth. Not a single creature minded him, however, and he continued along his paranoid little way.

Regner trudged onto the sand, dragging the bound and gagged Gerry along with him like a rag doll in one paw and brandishing his new saber in the other. The saber had been taken from Jeld, who had swindled it off of a dying Golding (Regner didn't doubt for a second that the gambling stoat had forced Golding to play cards with him before simply grabbing his saber), who had taken it from his headless father Aulder. And now, it had come into the possession of its rightful owner, Lord Regner the Magnificent.

The group did not get far before they were stopped by a solitary hare, who stood proudly on the top of a sand dune. Regner had seen the hare before; the scarred face and hook paw gave it away.

"You're supposed to be dead," spat Colonel Caldwell, completely alone at the top of the hill of sand, "Unless my eyes are deceiving me. You are Regner, right?" The hare held a small sword in his good paw, although it hung their lazily, not ready to fight.

"Not just Regner," replied the weasel, stopping just at the base of the dune, "Lord Regner the Magnificent. Or, as I've started to call myself, Lord Regner the Invincible. I can only imagine your surprise when you searched and searched around your slain oaf of a leader and never found my body. I left you my axe, though. Did you see it, sticking out of that stupid stripedog's shoulder?"

Caldwell remained calm. He had made two huge mistakes in his lifetime, both which had had disastrous results, but he was not intent on making a third one. As soon as Lieutenant Tabbins had sighted the pirate ship looming in the distance (which was about the same time Kleid had seen Salamandastron, funnily enough), Caldwell had taken huge precautionary measures. And when Regner had jumped out of the ship, no doubt back to try and finish what he started, Caldwell had doubled those precautions. Yes, it looked as if Caldwell was all alone on that dune, but he was actually backed by Tabbins and ten other hares. The other half of what was now left of the Long Patrol was being led by Sergeant Clements, the head archer, and now poised to set fire to the ship with flaming arrows.

"Yes," Caldwell replied, "Lieutenant Tabbins is using that axe now. He plans to chop your head off with it and mount it on his wall. Of course, that's if I don't get to you first. Where's that stuffy ferret of yours? On your ship, along with the rest of your army? Don't try to fool us, Regner. We know you didn't come here with only slightly larger numbers than us. Vermin like you don't try to do things unless you're either completely insane or the odds are stacked incredibly in your favor. And you don't look too crazy to me."

"What do you mean by asking me where Ballantyne is?" Regner demanded, "You idiot hares executed him yourself! That's why I'm back here, for my revenge! The mountain is just a little extra bonus for my efforts."

"I'm sorry, but the Long Patrol doesn't execute prisoners," Caldwell responded without the tiniest hint of anger or annoyance, "We let all of them go. Even that one crazy stoat. We know you have both of them on that ship of yours, Regner. I don't suggest you try to cover them up."

"Wot's he talkin' 'bout?" whispered Skrobb, "Crazy stoats an' stuffy ferrets? It don't make no sense."

"Be quiet," Regner hissed back. Skrobb slunk away, suddenly remembering another reason why he had stayed away from hordes his whole life: the moody warlords. "Now, stop talking all this nonsense! I know there's only twenty of you left, and I know you aren't ever going to surrender just to numbers alone!"

"Then he's smarter than most vermin," snickered Tabbins from behind the dune. Caldwell discreetly kicked some sand on him.

"So, let's get straight down to business," Regner continued. He pushed Gerry forward. "This is Gerry, you see. He's a poor little mousey, lost and frightened and scared. Aren't you, Gerry?" The mouse sat there silently. Regner frowned and turned back to Caldwell, saying, "Y'see? Now, you all lay down your weapons- and I mean all of you, and don't think I don't know your real number- or else poor little Gerry here will never see his family ever again."

"Wot're we gonna do?" whispered one of the hares.

"We can't lay down our weapons, that's for sure!" Tabbins replied.

"Be quiet," Caldwell muttered, "Regner won't kill his hostage, especially after Clements burns down his ship and he finds that he's got equal numbers to us. He'll keep him alive so that he'll have an advantage over us. Then we can mount a rescue operation, although… we aren't going to try anything too risky."

"Ah, wot?" Tabbins groaned, "We're hares! Courageous and perilous creatures! Wot are ya talkin' about, 'nothing too risky'?!"

"Be quiet!" Caldwell kicked some more sand back at Tabbins. Then, he focused his attention on Regner, who had seemed to notice that there were creatures behind Caldwell. "Look, you have twenty-five or so, and there's exactly twenty-four of us. You kill that hostage, and we will not hesitate to rout your entire group, including yourself. Are you prepared to fight the Long Patrol completely equally?"

There was a murmur of discontent among Regner's miniature horde as they realized that they might not be able to take care of the remnants of the Long Patrol so easily. Regner was quick to reassure them, speaking now to both Caldwell and his group, "Be quiet, all of you! You're all forgetting that there's thirteen more of us on that ship, most of which we can get to lead our offensives!"

"Thirteen?!" squealed Buvul from the back of the group, "That's a bad number!!! It's bad, I tell ya!!! Very bad!!!" The stoat was quickly silenced by two strong-looking rats, who shoved a balled-up rag in his mouth.

"This is all you could muster up against us, Regner?" Caldwell scoffed, "I was expecting better. I mean, we pretty much left you twenty of your soldiers, as well as your head tactician and that one crazy stoat, but you instead come back with this lot? Ha! This'll be easier than I thought!"

Regner hoisted up Gerry and held his saber to the mouse's throat. "Shut your mouth right now or I'll spill his blood all over the place!"

Caldwell smiled. Regner was frantic; his crew was frightened and unsure. Now for the finishing blow. The hare casually waved his paw. To any of Regner's horde, it seemed like a simple, random gesture. But to Sergeant Clements, newly promoted after the fiasco at Salamandastron the last time Regner had shown up, it was a signal. He and his small squad, safely hidden by a collection of rocks on the beach all prepared to burn Regner's ship to ashes.

---

Conrad and the rest of his crew sat in the galley, all unaware that they were about to be sitting in a burning inferno. Most moped, others moaned, but one had formed a plan. In a turn of events most unlikely, that one creature was Jeld.

Regner had only spared two creatures to watch the prisoners, both rats. One stood abovedecks, watching carefully in case Regner gave him a signal, in which case he would gather the prisoners and bring them out to his lord. The other one watched the prisoners personally, eyeing each one over carefully. Luckily, Regner had taken the whip with him, or many more of Conrad's crew would have long gashes running down their faces.

"'Ey, Oilear!" shouted the guard as he meandered around the benches, tromping on the still-scattered deck of cards carelessly, "Any sign from Regner yet?!"

"NO!" shouted a voice from abovedecks, "There ain't been no signal yet, Fleefer! If there was, I wudda tolja! Now shut yer trap an' stop askin' me! I'll tell ya as soon as I see sumthin'!"

"Ya don't hafta be so mean 'bout it!" Fleefer yelled back. He received no response. Muttering angrily to himself, the rat paced back and forth even quicker than before, skidding on one of the cards on the floor, depicting a handsome pine marten with hypnotic blue eyes.

And that's when Jeld got his idea. Suddenly turning around, he yelled, "So, Swiss, are ya a pine marten or not?"

"Ah, don't start this again, Jeld," Conrad growled, his head slumped over on his chains, "I don't wanna hear any more about stupid Swiss."

Jeld ignored his annoyed leader (and several of his annoyed colleagues, including Curvetail and Crowley), and continued, using lines that Regner himself had said to him. "Ya know, Ublaz was a pine marten."

"Wot?" exclaimed Swiss.

"'Ey, prisoners ain't allowed ta talk with each other!" snapped Fleefer, tapping Jeld with the butt of his spear.

The gambling stoat was not fazed. "Well, could ya at least settle this one argument we've been havin'? Ya see that card down there, the one that says 'Ublaz Mad Eyes'? Could ya take a look at that an' tell us if it looks like my friend Swiss over there?"

Fleefer gave a skeptical look at Jeld, then bent down and picked up the card in question, examining it closely. "Nah, I really don't… see… a… blue eyes…" The rat swayed back and froth slightly, transfixed to the spot.

"How'd ya do that?" muttered Weltsnout, "Ratty all weird now."

"Crowley, now ya gotta magic yerself outta those shackles, quick," Jeld snapped at the weasel behind him, ignoring Weltsnout. Many of the crew looked on in wonder. Conrad, however, didn't even look up.

Crowley wasted no time. Most of his magic act was just smoke and mirrors, and Jeld knew that, but the one trick Crowley could do genuinely was his escape trick. The weasel began to dislocate his fingers, working as quickly as he could. Fleefer continued to stand there, unable to take his eyes off of Ublaz. Crowley yanked one of his paws through the shackle, letting out a hiss in pain. He then set to work on the other, quickly getting it out of the shackle as well.

"Kill the guard!" Curvetail snapped. Fleefer had dropped his spear in his trance. Crowley grabbed at it, fumbling it around since half of his fingers weren't in the place they were supposed to be. Awkwardly seizing up the spear, he thrust it forward. The Ublaz Mad Eyes card fluttered to the ground as Fleefer dropped over dead, never knowing what hit him. Crowley quickly went back to work at fixing his fingers.

"Get the keys!" Jeld exclaimed.

"Kill the other guard!" Curvetail hissed.

"Wait, am I a pine marten or not?" Swiss asked.

"Be quiet! I hafta fix my fingers afore I do anythin'!" Crowley snapped back, quickly working his paw back the way it should be. Most of his fingers were in their correct places now.

"FI—!" shouted Oilear from abovedecks, cutting off abruptly. The prisoners looked at each other nervously, wondering what the guard had been trying to scream and why he hadn't finished screaming it. Their answer came quickly as the carcass of Oilear rolled down the stairs, a flaming arrow lodged in his chest.

"They're settin' the ship on fire!" Limptail exclaimed, pointing out the obvious, "We gotta get outta here!"

Crowley forgot about the last few of his fingers and bolted for the nearest exit. "GET THE KEYS!" Conrad suddenly yelled, his head no longer down and his interest no longer divided, "GET THE KEYS!"

Crowley skidded to a halt, snatched the keys awkwardly, and heaved them back. "Hurry up an' get out!" he shouted, then jumped over Oilear's flaming body and dashed up the stairs.

The keys landed very close to Rebule. The ferret swiftly grabbed them, fumbled around a bit, and let himself and Lersot out. Rebule handed the keys to Garland, and then they too made a swift departure.

Flames had begun to spring from Oilear's body, and the rest of the prisoners suspected that there were more flames consuming the ship. Garland opened up his shackles and tossed the set of keys down to Jeld and Tadds.

"Hurry up!!" shouted Curvetail, uncomfortably seated in the back, "I'm gonna get roasted alive if ya don't go quicker!" As if to emphasis his point, a huge burning mast smashed through the ceiling, crashing directly in between the two rows of benches. Large splinters of wood were sent flying everywhere.

"I got a splinter in my eye!!!" screamed Weltsnout, "It hurties very bad!!!"

The shackles on Jeld and Tadds flew off with a click, and Jeld threw the keys to Conrad before running out. But when he reached the flaming abovedecks, which was quickly turning into an inferno, he did not immediately jump overboard, as all the escapees before him had done. He grabbed Tadds and tossed the rat down into the sea, but he himself went directly for his quarters, where all of his things, as well as the remainder of his weapons, were stashed.

The fire had not yet reached his room yet, and he found both large bags completely unharmed. Swiftly departing, he was about to jump overboard when Weltsnout, a large wooden splinter lodged in his eye, pushed past him and dove.

"The keys!!!" screamed a voice that sounded a lot like Curvetail's, "Give us the keys, Conrad!!!"

Jeld hurled both of his bags over the edge of the ship (one of them struck the unfortunate Tadds right on the head) and dashed back down belowdecks to figure out what was amiss.

The entire galley was burning now; it was hard to breathe. Curvetail, Swiss, and Limptail were all still chained to their benches, yelling at Conrad. The fox was transfixed to a spot somewhere in the middle of the galley, a huge wooden post impaling him through the shoulder.

"Jeld!!!" Curvetail shouted, diverting his attention from the half-conscious Conrad, "Get us the keys!!!"

Jeld stood there dumbly for a few seconds, merely looking at the situation. Then, a huge wooden post smashed through the ceiling, narrowly missing his head, and he was shocked into action. The stoat snatched the keys from Conrad's outstretched paw and tossed it to Swiss, who dropped them. Fumbling around a bit, he picked the keys up and hastily attempted to free himself.

"Hurry up!!!" Curvetail shrieked as a few embers jumped from the walls to the bench right next to him.

Jeld had gone for the wooden post and was attempting to pull it out of Conrad's shoulder. It was a futile effort; the post was lodged between the floor and one of the walls, and wouldn't budge from either side. That didn't deter Jeld, however.

Swiss unlocked his shackles and tossed the keys down to Limptail. The ferret missed them completely and they sailed back, landing by Curvetail's footpaws. Curvetail reached down for them, but his chains restricted him.

Conrad was moaning now, a trickle of blood running down his mouth, "All I… did… All of… it…"

"Don't talk," Jeld hissed. He was attempting to break the wooden post now, hammering it repeatedly. Swiss bumbled by him, tripping and sending them both sprawling. Curvetail bent over and picked up the keys with his teeth.

"I… did everything… for you… losers… Everything…" Conrad moaned, "My… whole life… wasted…!" He seized Jeld by the neck and yanked him up. "Don't let me burn!!!" he shouted with unexpected clarity, bloody spittle splattering all over Jeld's face, "Kill me now!!!"

The stoat recoiled in terror, falling on his back. He scattered back up quickly, then turned and ran, right behind Swiss. Smoke had filled the room now; Limptail, still locked up, was beginning to get very nervous. He watched Curvetail with an apprehensive eye as the weasel released himself.

"Curvetail!!" Conrad spat, "Kill me!! Don't… let me… burn!!!"

"There isn't time!!" Curvetail screamed as he ran by, jumping over the post and shoving the keys into Limptail's paws simultaneously. He had vanished up the stairs in seconds. Limptail furiously began to release himself.

"Losers… All of ya… Make me… sick… I wasted my… whole… life… on ya… an' ya… still… want me to… burn…?" Conrad muttered. The flames had leapt onto his post and were crawling their way up to him.

"I'll k-kill ya, C-Conrad!" Limptail stammered, not believing what he was saying. The shackles popped off. The ferret got up swiftly, looking for some kind of weapon. The only one he could see was Oilear's cutlass, which had fallen to the floor only a few inches from the burning body.

Limptail snatched it up, and then dropped it, screaming in pain. It was incredibly hot. He looked back at Conrad, pathetically pinned to the wall like some sort of ornament. The ferret grabbed the cutlass again, wincing in pain, but did not drop it. Instead, he ran back to his leader.

"I'm sorry, Conrad!" he shrieked, averting his eyes and he lunged forward with the cutlass.

"This… is all… my sister's… fault…"

The cutlass froze, inches from Conrad's heart. Limptail suddenly realized that he couldn't kill him for some reason. Even though the fox had been all too willing to let that gaggle of lizards eat him alive, as Wemys had informed him one night when the whole lot of them were sitting around a campfire, he just couldn't kill Conrad, who, as he had just said, spent his entire life trying to help them.

"What're ya doin'?!" Conrad screeched, "I… don't… want… to… BURN!" The pauses were less caused by the pain and more just added for effect.

Another blazing log smashed through the ceiling, taking about five benches with it. If Curvetail had still been there, he would have been crushed instantly, but now the galley was empty, with the exception of the two dead guards, Conrad, and Limptail. The ferret, without giving any sort of response to his dying leader, turned and ran, Conrad's shrieks of fury and agony following him.

Limptail, the cutlass now seemingly melted to his paw, ran abovedecks and leapt over the side of the boat. He went down, down, down, and then hit the water with a splash and a hiss. He thought that he could still hear Conrad screaming, even when he was underwater, but that was impossible. Completely impossible.

Then, a large arm grabbed him around the neck and jerked him deeper.