Chapter Six: The Waiting Game
"Brome, we have to stop for a minute," the otter whispered in his friend's ear, "I don't think Celandine's used to this type of travel."
Brome nodded his agreement. "Time to rest!" he called. With a groan, Celandine unslung her pack, leaned against a tree and slid to a sitting position, panting in air.
"Here, Cel," Tullgrew said gently, uncorking her canteen, "Need some water?"
The squirrelmaid accepted gratefully, sucking it in like a mouse who'd nearly drowned would suck in air. She sat up abruptly, spilling water all over her dress. She had seen a flash of color out of the corner of her eye.
"I saw something over there!" she cried, pointing in the general direction of the flash.
Keyla looked at her skeptically from his place at the edge of the camp, not far from the location of the flash. "You sure you weren't seeing things?"
Brome looked at his friend in surprise. This was uncharacteristic of the young otter.
Celandine bristled. "I saw-"
The otter was a blur as he threw himself sideways into the bushes. There was a brief struggle, a squeal, then Keyla dragged a small, tattooed thinginto the clearing. It was about Brome's size yet obviously full grown, with a long skinny tail. The parts of his fur that weren't colored with dye were shaved off. "Sorry 'bout that, Cel, but I wanted to make sure I caught him by surprise."
"'S alright," she muttered, gratified.
"Now, what are-"
The young otter never finished his question. All Dark Fire shattered loose. Darts rained on the camp, followed by screams and howls.
Brome's frantic voice managed to rise above the din. "Split up! They can't get us all if-"
A creature clubbed viciously across the head, plunging him into unconsiousness.
***
"Land ho!"
Redeye stood at the prow of his ship and took in the Northern Coast at a glance. He recognised the horde of ships drawn up on the shallows- or, more accuratly, the ship that led them. The Red Tide, ruled by his old Cap'n, Zounzdican the Evil. Oh yes, he knew of her- indeed, she had once had him as her first mate. Memories he did not look back on with fondness. He would have murdered her if he had been able to pull it off- but she trusted no one.
Maybe things worked out better this way. Captain of the best ship ever to sail the Nine Seas, a loyal crew, a full slave hold- what more could he want?
The memory buried deep in his mind stirred . . .
The battle raged. I was only a young fox then, just into adulthood. The plundering and killing around me was glorius! The deck was littered with woodlander bodies, cut down in the prime of life. I could kill all day . . .
"Redeye, he's coming!" snapped my Cap'n, Zounzdican, "Get into position!" I ducked behind the mast and watched, fascinated, as burly young otter with twin curved blades hurled himself out of the cabin belowdecks, wailing like a banshee. My Cap'n and the one she'd temporarily allied herself with, Vilu Daskar, engaged him in combat as planned.
I waited until the time was right, then I struck! The otter fell to the deck, blood foaming like a waterfall from the wound. The three of us looked at him and laughed.
"So much for the mighty Galedeep!" I laughed.
We turned to rejoin the battle when I felt something crush my leg with furious strength. I fell to deck, gasping, and looked on the face of my assaulter-
"Cap'n! Cap'n!"
His bosun's voice brought him out of his reminicing stupor. "What is it!" he snapped angrily.
"Orders, Cap'n."
Redeye smiled broadly.
***
Ripred, feeling very out of place, sat beside Zounzdican as she negotiated with her ex-first mate, Captain Redeye. He could tell that neither trusted the other. It made him wonder why the woodlanders had such trust for each other despite being of such different races. Indeed, he preferred that to this false sincerity and trust.
"But if I quarter the slaves here, you could steal them."
Zounzdican sighed and rubbed her forehead. "Let's run through this again. You can join forces with me and jointly rule the army. Your slaves you may keep here if you choose, you may also berth your crew here, if you wish, but we will jointly rule."
He was silent for a minute. "I will join with you, but my crew is berthed on my ship."
Her eyes glittered maliciously as they shook paws.
***
A soft, gentle rain fell upon the three questers huddled about the smoking remains of a campfire. One lay prone, dried blood crusting on his head. The other twain knew little of healing and had been unable to do more than a roughbandage and pressure to stop the bleeding, and were now trying to think of an appropriate plan of action.
"We can't leave Brome here by himself, bo urr."
"Then I'll go alone."
"Hurr, who knows what ee vermin are up to? If'n you bees captured, thur be nothin' oi can do. With zurr Brome in ee condition staying here, bees the best thing we can do until ee wakes up and we know more, hurr." Keyla hesitated, and finally gave in. Privately he knew that the mole was right, and the blessed, lovely rain increased the feeling. A faint groan punctuated the silence. Brome's eyes flickered as his mind began to rise from its unconscious state.
***
He groaned as his eyes flickered open, his vision recalibrating. He sat up and immediately regretted it as an inevitable headache came to life with a rather painful bang. Grumm and Keyla hovered around him, faces concerned. "Hurr, do ee feel alright maister Brome?"
The young mouse cradled his head in his paws, hoping in vain that it would diminish the pain. "I'm fine, 'cept for this headache. Keyla, can you get some poppy seeds out of my bag, please?" After a moment of rummaging in the young mouse's pack, the otter located the seeds and pressed them into Brome's outstretched paw. "Thank you!" He popped them in his mouth and leaned against a boulder. "Any sign of the others?"
"None," Keyla replied sadly as Grumm shook his head mournfully.
"I'll stand guard," the mouse volunteered. He got to his paws, no sooner having done so when his head protested. The world swirled around him in a dizzying kaleidoscope of colors and shapes. The young otter darted forward and saved his friend from splitting his skull on the stone.
"Brome-"
"Just a dizzy spell. I'm fine, just give me a minute . . ."
"Maybe I should stand guard," the otter prompted.
The mouse shook his head and winced. "No. I'm the only one who's had any sleep-"
"Sleep!" the otter exploded, "If that was sleep than I'm a weasel!"
"He bees roight zurr Brome, you'm needs ee rest!"
The young mouse felt the darkness closing in on him. "But . . ." he protested weakly as the darkness gently closed in on him. Keyla gently laid him on the ground. Grumm covered him with a blanket and gently smoothed his fur. A blind rabbit could see that the mole loved him like his own son. Again, Keyla felt a jealous stab of envy, longing, and sadness. A tear slid down his cheek, but this time he ignored it, knowing the rain would conceal it.
"Get some sleep, Grumm. I will take first watch." The exhausted mole nodded his assent and huddled down. A moment later, the otter was alone with his dark thoughts.
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