Chapter 12
Orlando slammed his fist on the long table.
"Insolence that is what this is, insolence!"
"M'lord, please calm yourself."
Alvadian pleaded, he did not want his Lord to go into a rage fit. Orlando's breathing became heavy and labored.
"That diabolical wretch thinks he can threaten me?! He thinks he has the upperpaw? Nay! I say, nay! We have the advantage, we have the numbers!"
Orlando continued about how his armies he commanded were far superior than that of Corsairs. How Long Patrol hares fight with honor and integrity, while vermin hordes and Corsairs fought for wealth and power. Orlando slumped back in his chair.
"Fine, if the madbeasts want me to surrender, then so be it, but we need to make a pseudo surrender, lay your arms down for a short while, and when they hand us our hare, we strike at night, crippling their defenses and showing the cowardly scum who is in charge."
After hearing that, the hares all shout and cheered for their Lord.
Harlan, and Elmtail were scavenging the forest, searching for enemies and looking for wild fruits to stuff their pouches in. The two hopped and jump from treetop to treetop. Slide across from branch to branch, and finally perched themselves on the branch of a large sycamore. Harlan was in front of Elmtail, he kneeled down and scanned the landscape. Trees, bushes, and grass, and all sort of foliage coated the woods. Mossflower Woods casted a beautiful golden hue in autumn. Suddenly, the two heard pawsteps coming from East of them. Harlan signalled Elmtail to stay quiet and to observe the activity. The two squirrels were as still as statues and as silent as the night, they laid witness to a tracking party, lead by a tall and burly rat with oily black fur, wearing a sleeveless belted jerkin, and wielding a scimitar. He was a disgusting sight! His left eye was completely shut and his right had a large scar across it, his fangs were snaggled and chipped, and when he talked he spat.
"Paah! I smell them! They are near!"
The black rat spat out, the content that was his salivs was dark brown and thick. One of his henchbeasts, another rat, this time less burly and slightly shorter than him, wearing a tattered tunic and wielding a curved dagger shouted.
"'Ey, Ferrdann! I fink I found dah trail!"
Ferrdann spat out some more brown goo, it hit dead center on that of the pedals of a fully bloomed flower.
"Where!"
"'Eadin' Wes', sir!"
"West, buuuh! They're on their way to get aide from the stripedog and cottontails!"
He shouted, a fat young stoat clad in a large jerkin spoke in a nervous tone.
"Urm, stripehound, cottontails?"
The oily furred rat slapped a grimy paw across the fat one's face.
"You dolt, a badger and his hares!"
A tall weasel wearing only a long velvet cape and scabbard spoke.
"We've got to make sure, that the beasts were tracking don't make it there."
"Yes, here's what we'll do."
Harlan leaned in a bit further and hear the evil ones' plan. His eyes shot open with horror. He swiftly and carefully raised himself to Elmtail.
"Quickly, we must return to the camp."
He whispered sharply. The two raced back to the campsite.
The two had made it. Sam and Flugg greeted the, with open arms.
"Welcome back, how was the scouting?"
Flugg asked as he took a swig from a cask of wine. Harlan and Elmtail weren't looking too keen on welcomes or other pleasantries.
"Sam, Log-a-Log, we need to go and now!"
"What's the rush?"
Sam asked as he munched on a tart. Harlan stepped in and spoke.
"There are about a dozen trackers our way, real hard as nails types. I overheard 'em say, that once they've recatured us, they'll cut off our own footpaws, and feed them to our maidens and babes."
Sam dropped his tart and Flugg corked the cask.
"Everybeast, we need to move, Harlan and Elmtail have stated there is a group hot on our trail!"
"Pack up everything at once, at once!"
Sam and Flugg shouted. The Mossflower Patrollers and Guosim shrews did as they were told, they rolled their sleeping bags up, and extinguished their fires. Sam then proceed to give orders to Harlan.
"Harlan, I need you to return to where the trackers are and follow them for a short while, don't engage in combat, if they spot you, report back to me at once!"
"Aye, I've got it."
Harlan ran up the trees and sprinted across each branch.
"May Martin watch over him."
Xaviel and his horde were eating lunch, they dined on a roasted woodpigeon, as they ate a messanger rat ran into the tent. Xaviel stood up and took a bite out of the roasted bird.
"Make your report."
He said with a piece of meat in his mouth. The rat spoke softly.
"Well, Captain, Ferrdann and his trackers are close to the squirrel's trail, they sent me back here to let you know."
"Well, that is just lovely, lovely indeed."
The rat nervously rubbed his paws together and chuckled to his Captain.
"Oh, it is my Captain, quite is. I've got to return and let Ferrdann know about the good news."
He ran out of the tent, Xaviel grabbed his silver goblet and slopped down the meat with a fine red wine. He then slammed down the silver cup and belched loudly.
"I'm gonna make that squirrel suffered, but I can't hog all the fun, I just need him to taste pain, before he is even fed it."
Xaviel stated. Xaviel grabbed his broadsword's scabbard and headed out.
"Let's go!"