Marelda looked him calmly in the eye, having determined already earlier that morning that if she was to die, she was not to die snivelling like a vermin. "If you really thought that I had betrayed you, you would not be asking. Why would I bother trying to save that lot? Just because they sleep in does not mean I'm a traitor."
He let his paw fall to his side, reluctantly. He was eager to kill that day. Too eager. He wanted to smell the coppery scent of blood as it ran past his paws. His chest swelled up at the thought of having such power. His lustrous but empty eyes betrayed his thoughts to Marelda, who wanted to vomit. He sensed something was wrong but he was too controlled by his own shortcomings- his addiction to power and control- to notice it. The shrews would be able to defend perfectly, she knew it.
Soon the signal was given for his best fighters to assemble before him. They already had heard inklings of his plan, but none of them knew exactly what was happening. They were more threatening than Ferahgo himself, their demeanour menacing and their eyes sharp and dark. Marelda stayed close to their leader. They were all killers, but she was sticking close to the one who gave her the best misguided sense of security.
There were seven of them, like the seven deadly sins. Each held only one visible weapon. Poison tipped arrows, slings, swords and maces. They all hid under a uniform of dark green cloaks- the perfect shade to blend into the bushes. Ferahgo did not seem threatened at all. In fact, they almost seemed afraid of him. She had never imagined the stronger vermin to be afraid of anything except for a good wash.
"Go around to the east side, do not show yourselves. Simply stop them from fleeing. I want them all dead. If you fail, you had better start running with the little buggers you let get away. Am I clear?" They nodded silently and slipped away into the shadows. Marelda made a mental note to make sure she was not being watched, with those kinds of creatures hiding away near the camp. Ferahgo turned to her, smirking.
"Remember, I can smell fear. And so can they."
"I think it is healthy to have a little fear of those beasts."
"But not of me."
"You are cunning and deceptive. And it is easier to be safe when you know you're playing a deadly game. With those creatures, you don't know what kind of game they're playing. It's the not knowing that is more dangerous."
Ferahgo smiled. "Wise. Very wise reasoning. Let's assemble the rest of our force. The fight begins soon."
Let us assemble the rest of our force. Marelda mulled the sentence over in her mind. That was big. By the time she was able to head him off at Redwall, she might be able to get him to the point where she could eventually desert without any repercussions. Despite the fact he was ready to kill her that morning. But she didn't believe he ever would have. Suspicion of the new kid was in his job description.
Soon the horde was ready to charge. Thousands of them, assembled in front of Ferahgo, with her in the front lines. She could smell their sweat and heart their eager grunts. They were ready for a kill, but would soon be disappointed. Marelda was silent, but armed with two daggers from the diamond stash. She looked the part of a cold blooded murderer perfectly. Ferahgo outlined their plan, and then they began a brisk jog to where the shrew camp lay.
The Corpsemakers burst forth, running into an empty clearing. Marelda pretended to look baffled. Ferahgo was tense and talking to him would result in injury, she was certain. The silence was somehow deafening. Until it was suddenly broken by,
"Logalogalogalogalogalogalog!" Shrews pounced on the vermin as if they were raining from the sky, having the element of surprise on their side. Ferahgo's blades were going a thousand miles an hour, but their small bodies were nimble and made hard targets for even the best archers and swordsmen. Marelda merely ducked and swung half heartedly at their tails, staying well out of the line of fire. All she could hope was that Ferahgo's pride would not be hurt by a reasonable retreat, considering half his legions were already deserting the battle. As long as Logalog didn't run out of shrews before that happened…
And their plan worked perfectly. Soon, there were only a few loyal fighters, plus Marelda- if you could call her a fighter. Feragho soon made short work of getting up the hill back to safety, and the rest followed him like cattle.
Once out of the battleground, Feragho was smiling dangerously. Even the dumbest of the horde had the presence of mind to stand back. It was all that Marelda could do not to start shaking.
"Who has betrayed us?" He said slowly, deliberately. His eyes caught hers and he stepped towards her. But before he could make another move, two of the cloaked fighters brought forward a screaming, flailing shrew. Feragho whirled around to face him and everything went silent.
"Ah, what do we have here? A little deserter I presume. Not as brave as your counterparts are we?"
"No, master." Said one of the hooded figures. "I found this one trying to cover up a hole beside your tent. He's been spying on us."
Marelda pretended to be surprised, like all the rest. He'd been found just in the nick of time, the poor shrew. He was going to die anyway, of a slow poison from a bad root he'd eaten. Still, she couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness, watching the inevitable unfold before her eyes.
The hooded figures stepped back with a wave of their master's paw and Feragho began circling his victim. The shrew tried to run, but his path was cut of suddenly by a knife landing inches from his footpaws. He turned around quickly, terrified.
"What is your name, friend?" The assassin began innocently. "We need beasts as smart and brave as you on our side…"
"I could never join such murderous a side as yours."
"Good. That means I can really make an example out of your death." He moved like lightning, grabbing the creature by his ankle and dangling him upside down in front of everyone. "Listen up! This is what happens to spies- ah!" A tiny shrew rapier was stabbed into the assasin's exposed side, and everyone gasped. Feragho lost his grip momentarily, but adrenaline and rage instantly clouded his mind and the shrew was mercifully dead in a few bloody seconds. Feragho soon collapsed next to his victim.
He woke up on his cot, a throbbing pain in his side, but warm blankets over him. The smell of strong herbs and smoke from a fire filled his nostrils. He opened his eyes.
Marelda looked over and smiled at him. "You're awake. Good. Had me worried there for a while. Well, maybe worried isn't quite the right word…" It's really more like, excited at the prospect of your death and not having to carry out the full extent of my plan for revenge.
She was sitting in front of a tiny cooking fire, stirring a small pot full of bits from the forest she'd made into a stew. The herb smells he'd noticed were from what she'd put inside of his bandages- witch hazel and other healing plants. She smiled at him and offered him some of the thick broth.
"Don't sit up, just tilt your head. That's it." Feragho sipped greedily, his pain obviously not compromising his appetite.
"How long have you been here? You've been doting on me like I'm some sick little mole babe."
"Guilty as charged. I've been here since you were carried in. You lost a lot of blood. It's been a while. Three hours, possibly more. Do you want anything?"
He didn't reply, he only looked at her. Long and hard, his deep blue eyes analysing, testing, observing. His expression was unreadable, all she could tell was that he was pleased. Genuinely for once. She had never seen him with that kind of shine in his eye, but it was soft and didn't scare her. She didn't dare to break the silence, either. He could keep on staring until he faded out again, what did she care?
Finally, he spoke. "What I want is not the question. What do you want from me?"
"I don't want anything."
"Of course you do. Why else would you be here? Cut to the chase. I'm not exactly in a position to deny you much of anything right now."
"Just because I take care of someone when they're hurt, however murderous and cunning they may be, does not mean I demand anything in return. Besides, when is it ever a bad thing just to be on your good side?" She asked with a smile. This was the first time that the leader had ever seemed even relatively human to her- sitting there, vulnerable and gentle mannered. This was the first time his baby blues had not been piercing. She almost felt herself feeling sorry for him.
He smiled. "I see…Is that what you were taught in the tribe, this…kindness?"
"Yes. Some things from your childhood you just can't shake. I'm sure you can relate. Are your bandages tight enough?" She reached out a paw to check, but he caught it swiftly.
"Why did you stay out in the battlefield until I retreated? You know nothing of battle. That is more than kindness. You must want something."
"No. You said I should prove myself there, and that I did. I am not a complete coward, unlike some of your horde. Now, I hate to have to tell you to do something, but you're going to have to relax if you ever want to heal up within the season." She removed her paw from his and put out the fire, aiming to leave and let him rest, but Feragho stopped her from leaving with a question.
"As an advisor, Marelda, answer me something. Do such wounds come with a change of temperment and a rather…warm feeling?"
"What do you mean by warm feeling? Do you have a fever?" She suddenly was concerned. If he had caught something from that poisoned shrew, the entire horde could be in trouble- especially her.
"No, not that kind of feeling. It's like-"
A fat, vile smelling rat suddenly entered the assassin's private chamber, interrupting him. There was a parcel in his arms, wrapped in thick cloth. The rat looked confused about something.
Feragho sat up in his cot, not showing any pain in his face, but it had to be more than excruciating. All you could tell was that he was ticked off again. Marelda wisely stepped back from in between the two, just in case it was more bad news. Feragho was surely one to shoot the messenger.
"Your highness, we have a problem." The rat tipped the package forward slightly and the wrappings fell off. The parcel giggled with delight and began to drool…