(A/N: I've also figured out that dibbuns are only a few months old and speak in a somewhat hard to understand language, unlike my characters. Also, the children in "Mattimeo" were about a year old or so. Since my children characters are 5 and a half seasons old, let's not consider them dibbuns, but as children close to being adolescents.)


6

The courtyard of Lord Hawkin's castle was filled with vermin, all of them wearing thick armor to protect them from the bitter cold. This was the army of the Mount Jicidus kingdom. There were white-furred ermines, rats, weasels, stoats, ferrets, and foxes, all of them used to the blizzards of the mountaintop. The vermin were standing in straight lines, all of them raising their right forepaws in clenched fists as a sign of loyalty to their arctic fox lord. The white fox himself was standing at the entrance of his palace, watching his army. Suddenly, he shouted aloud.

"Whitepaws, Dirtface, Morik, Kligg, and Girb," he called. "Come to me, now."

The four captains approached their lord. The weasel, Morik, received the map of the northern lands. Kligg, the fox, was given the map of the southern lands. Girb, the ermine, would travel to the west. Finally, were Whitepaws and Dirtface, whom Lord Hawkin gave the map of the lands to the east.

"Do not disappoint me," warned the lord. "I want a full report in a moon cycle's time. Send a bird back or something, I don't care how. But I want to know how much new territory you've all gotten for me." He glanced at the two rat captains. "I'm especially eager to have that abbey in my possession. I could make it my summerhouse when I've grown bored of the cold."

"Aye, sir," commented the foolish Morik, gazing into the sky dreamily. "That does sound quite nice."

The weasel was silenced by the murderous look in Lord Hawkin's eyes.

"Right," the white fox grumbled. "Go on, then."

The five captains addressed the army.

"Alright, you lot!" yowled Dirtface. "Split into four groups and wait for a captain to lead you down the mountain!"

The army obeyed, and soon, four large groups of vermin headed in different directions, beginning the great climb down Mount Jicidus. Hawkin stayed where he was until the courtyard was cleared out. Once he was alone, he walked up the marble steps, past the off-white pillars, and through the entrance of his palace. He made his way, slowly, to the dining room. A massive table (also crafted from marble) was piled with great meals. His wife and son were eating their breakfast already…well, Lady Tempa was, at least. Shade merely poked at his scrambled eggs and his ham was getting cold. Hawkin sat, eyeing his son.

"Shade," he began, a hint of curiosity in his voice. "Why aren't you eating?"

"Too tired, Father," replied the young fox softly. Lord Hawkin snorted as prepared his own meal.

"You're still thinking about that bloody mouse?" he angrily stuffed a forkful of eggs in his mouth. "Forget him, boy."

"I'm sorry, Father, but I can't," said Shade. He gazed up at his father with weary blue eyes. "Even when I'm awake, I can still hear his voice."

Hawkin stared at Shade, pondering how he wanted to feel about such a statement.

"What does the damn thing tell you?" he demanded.

Lady Tempa shot Shade a warning glance before the young one spoke.

"He says things about…evil…"

"What about evil, boy?"

"He says…an evil lurks about. He kept chanting that over and over again. I also saw some bones…the weasel's…"

"You should've stayed in bed," muttered Hawkin under his breath. "Drink some Chamomile tea before bed tonight, and you should be fine. Now eat up. You have a big day of learning to do."

"Yes, Father," Shade said. For some strange reason, he felt odd, and in a way that didn't feel good. The young fox attempted to eat, having nothing else to say.


"Move, you miserable pile of bones!" Whitepaws ordered his and Dirtface's quadrant of the army. "It'll take at least a week to get down this mountain. We can cut that time in half if you all weren't draggin' your paws! You there, ermine! Yes, you! Stop with that idle chat or I'll cut off your tongue!"

The small army of vermin climbed down as fast as they could, but the heavy armor made it difficult. Taking it off wasn't an option, however. It was far too cold at the top of Mount Jicidus. So, the vermin soldiers had no choice but to get an earful of Whitepaws' ranting. Along the way, the soldiers walked along a rather loose section of rock and snow on the mountain, as if something had moved it about. The soldiers took no notice of this, for Whitepaws wouldn't stop barking orders. Once the army had gone from that patch of loose rock and snow, some of it was pushed back. The head of a goat poked out of the small hole it had made, and sighed.

"They've gone, Nubbin," he stuttered.

Another voice, a lower one, replied from underground.

"Good," said the other voice. "Now we may be able to walk about in peace, if only for a while."


Shade sat quietly in his father's study. He usually went there once a day for his daily teachings, and today was no exception. But, today, however, a special lesson was going to be taught. Shade watched as a small group of Lord Hawkin's terrified slaves entered the study. Hawkin stood beside them, addressing his son.

"I suppose there's no hiding it any longer," the white fox began. "My son, I have a weapon. One that I alone created. I call this weapon, "the Deadly Combinations". Since you've seen this weapon in use last night, I suppose now I shall include it to your studies. I have high hopes that you may master it like I have."

Shade nodded to the slaves.

"Is that what they're here for?" he asked quietly.

Lord Hawkin nodded in response. Just then, he pulled a slave to him, a male dormouse. The dormouse shivered violently, knowing what the cruel lord would do to him. The lord reached for his box, which rested on a table near him. He pulled out the vial of clear liquid and the same herbs from the night prior. Hawkin returned to the dormouse.

"You've seen how this works," said the lord. "But I shall show you again, this time, going into more depth on what this actually is." He held up the vial. "This is an acid I made that, when combined with an herb, can secrete a smoke that uses the herb's side effects. I call it, "Smokemaker Acid". I have multiple other versions of it, to counter the make-up of other herbs, as you shall see." He then held up the herbs. "This is called Goldenseal, a mere irritant on its own. But put the two together and…" Lord Hawkin dropped the herbs into the vial, and the white smoke formed. Hawkin held the vial out and blew the smoke in the direction of the dormouse. Shade watched, horrified, as the dormouse was corroded to nothing but bones, all the while, screaming in agony.

"He's…he's gone…" gasped Shade fearfully.

"Yes, my son," Hawkin nodded. "He is. But that's not the only way I can kill."

His next victim was a mousemaid. The combination was a blue variant of Smokemaker acid and some extract of a bitter orange's peel. The mousemaid seemed to be fine at first, but then, she clutched her chest, and died of a sudden heart attack. A bankvole slave slipped into a coma due to a Lobelia and yellow Smokemaker acid combination. A combination of St. John's wort and green Smokemaker acid caused a rabbit slave to become extremely dizzy. Hawkin finished him off quickly with a dagger he had hidden beneath his robe. By then, Shade had had enough.

"Stop!" he moaned, traumatized. "Please! Just stop!" The young fox rushed out of the study in a panic.

Lord Hawkin watched after his son in confusion, but then growled, annoyed. He faced the remaining slaves, who were backed up in a corner and shivering. He snapped at them.

"Clean this mess up. If it's not done before I get back, you'll get the worst combination I have in my collection."

The slaves scrambled to obey their master. Lord Hawkin left them, wandering the corridors of his palace to find Shade. When the lord came across the entrance to the palace's garden, he heard heavy breathing.

"Why?" he heard Shade whimper. "Why would he do that? Maybe Martin was right. He is doing evil things. I don't want any part of that."

Hawkin entered the garden, looking around.

"Shade!" he called. "Come here!"

There was no reply, nor any sounds of pawsteps. Hawkin frowned.

"Shade! You will come to me, or be punished!"

Shade slowly appeared before his father, looking at the ground. Hawkin reached down and tilted his chin upward.

"Look at me, boy," he ordered. "No son of mine is going to look submissive. You must be dominant and proud."

Shade felt a tear run down his face.

"How can I?" asked the young one. "How can I when you're teaching me to be a murderer? And how could you do that to your servants?"

"They're slaves, boy. Their lives are at my disposal. And I am teaching you how to be a successful ruler. Murder is how you can be successful. There are those who want to take your power from you, and those who wrongfully challenge your authority. This is how we put them in their place. It's what we do."

"I don't want to do that, Father. I want to be merciful and kind, not hostile and bloodthirsty."

"It's in your nature, boy. It's in all of our natures. Foxes, rats, weasels, stoats, all of us. We "vermin", as those miserable little woodland folk call us, would never get anywhere if it wasn't for murder and cruelty. You see my slaves? They believe in goodness and kindness, yet they're serving me food and catering to our every whim. You see, Shade? Their "goodness" nonsense makes them weak. Our cruelty makes us strong. You will be like that, Shade, whether you like it or not."

Shade glared at his father, but this earned him a swift smack across the face.

"Make that face at me again, boy, and you'll be getting worse than that."