A/N: Thanks for the reviews guys, I appreciate them. Sorry this chapter took so long to post, it was a combo of writers block and my evil history teacher… .

Moments after Ferahgo spread the word of Marelda's promotion her life changed dramatically. Again. No longer was she roped and taunted, but she turned heads when she passed and she could hear the vermin whispering like little old ladies about her. Her and the Veruim. She smirked every time she heard that name. Old wive's tales of old worked wonders on the superstitious, weak minded beasts. Timidly she walked through crowds to find her own little space near the edge of the woods where she wouldn't be disturbed. Falling asleep would not be easy, she knew, but she'd have to get used to such conditions. Her plan was for the long haul.

She was not used to sleeping on hard ground, though, or feeling a cold wind against her fur as she slept. But a warm bed was certainly not the thing that she missed most. Not the food, not the friendly chatter, not the flickering glow of a fire. She missed her mother's out of tune lullabies that she would sing to the babes, and her father's loud snoring. She missed Klitch's mischievous whisper when he'd sometimes wake her in the early hours of the morning to sneak out of the cave and collect dewy wildflowers to surprise someone. She missed her friends, and the subconscious assurance of always having someone close by if she needed it. But the same three words kept running through her head: Klitch, revenge and plan…She'd form her own tribe again, and things would be how they used to be. But first things first: Ferahgo had to pay.

The next day the horde was moving again, Northwards. Marelda walked in pace with Ferahgo to make good on her deal, telling him everything she knew about a place called Redwall. He seemed especially fascinated by the grandeur of the place and the food, although it was hard to read a beast like him. He asked many questions, but tended not to ask too much about why nobody had conquered the place before. Whenever she didn't know how to answer one, she made an educated guess, and Ferahgo was secretly impressed by her intelligence. Of course, working with boneheads every day, it was always a treat to meet someone who knew more than a rotten potato. A treat, or a curse. Ferahgo was many things, but he wasn't an idiot. He was keeping his baby blues close on her every move. Cleverness was just another weapon in her arsenal, along with those shiny little tidbits she'd promised him she'd help him find. Ferahgo wasn't about to say for sure he'd hit the jackpot yet, but he was close. Very close.

"Tell me about those other foxes. Keesar and…Erin?"

"Kesare and Garynne. There is not anything to tell about them. No more to tell about them than about me, really."

"Exactly. What is a bunch of foxes doing out here, living…peacefully?" It seemed to almost injure him to say the word 'peacefully' out loud. Marelda was somehow not surprised.

"We've been out here for generations. Only the elders can- could- remember a time when we weren't established." And you've destroyed all of those generations of hard work, making us like noble creatures you monster, she thought bitterly.

"Tell me about it. About the tribe. About you…I love ironic stories of betrayal."

"I don't betray. I simply stay alive. You should know the difference. And why should I tell you all of this without you telling me how you came into power, anyway?"

"Do you know how many would dare to speak to me like that? Nobody who wants to live. I don't give anything in return- I own you. I own the entire south."

"You should know by now that you don't intimidate me. Why should you kill me? You need me. I'm not stupid enough to give you information about every single pitfall we'll meet along the way. Not until we get there, at any rate. And if you're thinking what I think you are, like I said before, I simply stay alive. Loyalty has nothing to do with it."

Ferahgo smiled genuinely- a rare thing. "I grew up in a horde, I didn't like the way things were being run when I got older, so I formed my own band and conquered them later. Simple story. Now, tell me yours. I want to know how you're the only bright one of your entire pitiful family."

"From the beginning, then. It was a long time ago that we were started. It was in the far Eastern lands, farther than most decent creatures have ever been…

His name was Grayscar- a silver fox with a deep gash across his back. Supposedly due to his mother's slashing him across with a knife as a babe for taking too many candied acorns. Only a rumor, and completely besides the story, but nobody ever doubted that story. He was young and fierce, not unlike you, killing anything in his path with a massive weapon unlike that any beast has ever created before or after him. It was a long stick, with eight skythe like points- one pointing in each direction around either end, each with a different purpose. One for skinning, one for plain killing, one for torture, one for cooking meat, one for…Well, you get the idea. You're the last person who needs a list of all the uses for knives. The point is, he was fearsome.

He was a one man army, defeating many through strategy and intimidation. He'd do nothing for anyone, for any price. He had no friends, no allies, no family- no true enemies, for those you hate, and he had no emotion. That was at least until he saw the Ferodian treasure of Alkamoor- the diamonds. It was a treasure unlike one he had ever seen. It sparkled like a kind man's eyes, yet it could slice through anything he desired. Every time he looked at it, he saw himself in more ways than one. He had to have it. It was kept by a small family of moles, who had mined it for season after season uncountable. It seemed a simple task. Yet, after killing them, something strange happened to him that had never happened before: it haunted him. He couldn't escape their terrified faces as he entered their small domain, their screams… So he secluded himself. He went deep into the woods, to the caves where you found us. He lived there alone for a number of years as a hermit, his trove of diamonds beside him as a constant reminder to what he had done.

There were always rumours among the people that he was there. He was a ferocious foreigner, supposedly with a bottomless supply of riches. Thus, you can imagine many dared to take some for themselves. There was an especially ruthless family cluster of foxes that came to his doorstep. He had given up on killing- usually just weilding his infamous weapon was enough to scare them off. But they would not take no for an answer. The elders said that he saw himself in them and despised it. Perhaps he wanted servants, or just to see another creature now and again, or wanted to change them for the better. Either way, he used his skills, and captured them before they really knew what had happened.

And all that anybody knows about the events after that is…nothing. More foxes came and joined the tribe, two or three families, not entirely of their own accord and Grayscar- who later renamed himself Grumple for some odd reason- he saw to it that the vermin were nice to each other. Nobody dared to disobey him. Eventually he died, and some left to become what they were before, but the younger ones stayed, not knowing any other way of life and enjoying it. After some of them left, others took sackfulls of the diamonds and dispersed them around the globe to keep them safe from those who had left. Their locations have been passed down in riddles from generation to generation. That is the story of the diamonds."

"And your story?"

"Not much more to tell in my story than you told me in yours. I was raised by the leader of the tribe, led a good, pampered life."

"And how you got your…Shall we say, less than noble streak?"

"I have an older brother. Pushed me around. I learned mean tricks very early on in life." She lied, almost testily. She was about to mention that now would be a good time to stop for lunch when a scrawny little rat by the name of Blackbreath interrupted them.

"Your highness? Sir? Your lordship? Please, sir-"

"Stop calling me names and snivelling." Ferahgo snapped. "Just spit it out, rat!"

"Yes, your emperor-ness. You see…there's a slight problem with the…er…rations. There was a miscalculation of some sort and, it certainly wasn't my fault, chief. You can be assured of that! This whole mess is certainly not my-"

"What's the problem with the rations?!" He roared. The entire company stopped and became silent as baby church mice at midnight to hear what the rat had to say. Or, rather, what Ferahgo might do to him if Blackbreath annoyed him any further.

"There's no…there's no more food, sir."

Ferahgo's menacing glare turned to a kindly, twisted smile. "Well, then. Is that all?"
"Yes sir."

"Good. Then I won't need you any longer." All Marelda saw was a glint of metal in the sunlight before the rat collapsed, dead, into her arms. Her mouth fell open, but no scream emerged as she dropped the body with a thud.

"If there's no food, then fend for yourselves you timid mouse maids!" Ferahgo roared. The entire company scattered amidst the forest, apparently engulfed by their passion for finding food. The tyrant turned and looked at her, his blue eyes betraying an emotion different than the one portrayed by his dangerous scowl.

"Get some food off the others and then join me with it. I want to continue our little chat." He walked away to find the best place to seat himself and Marelda felt a tap on her shoulder. It was Kesare.

"How can you associate yourself with such a monster? I thought that you were more noble than that. Distance yourself from him now, while you still have the chance. Slavery is better than such horrid betrayal as you show us. And your family." She walked away weakly, not allowing Marelda time enough to reply. Tears came to her eyes. Soon enough they'd see she was not one of them. Soon enough she'd be able to set everyone free…