Chapter I
The moon glowed a gruesome dark orange in the clear sky, as though it's face were bathed in the innocent blood of the dozens that had been slain that night on the last ship of the once powerful vermin raiders, the Foxwolf.
Standing over top her latest victim, Selah Falsetooth wiped fresh blood from her snout and reared back her head, laughing wickedly. Only a few still remained that had not participated in the mutiny. She held her long sharp javelin against her lanky body as two rats took the body of their slain comrade and placed it near the pile that stunk the whole port side of the vessel.
Her hatred now sated for the moment, the tall female weasel glared toward the cowering group of rats, ermine and minks that were aboard her torn and ragged ship, each of them looking to be near starvation as she waved her javelin toward their frightened faces.
"Let these be an example to the rest of you! To those who say we should return to the southwestern shores, to those who question my leadership! I am Selah Falsetooth and you will regret that folly the moment it reaches your heart," the weasel said as she showed her gruesome teeth.
Of all her fangs, most of them were natural save for the two that she had near the front, using the finest sapling glue made by squirrel raiders, the dangerous weasel had conquered a mighty serpent during their journey across the Western Sea, and pried the fangs from the venomous creature to use as her personal weapon of torture for any who disobeyed her.
The group didn't say a word as she stormed thru them, waving her powerful javelin about. "Perhaps this is why I left my kin to begin with! Because of soft and weak fools like you! Do you wish to go back and die alongside the others in the southern kingdom? To be swallowed up by the badger's bloodwrath like our vermin brethren?" Selah asked.
One of her Captains, a scrawny looking rat named Behaziel, looked toward her with only a little fear in his eyes and declared, "Lady Selah, we know your strength. We know that you have left behind family and children in order to lead us to victory. But the words we spoke were not of treachery but concern. Some of us barely survived the battle of Castle Floret when we were babes. We remember the battle cries of Urgan Nagru and his lady Silvamord. We have seen enough battle for ten seasons, and we simply wish to know when this glorious victory will be."
"You joined me to find victory? You believe that I can lead you to a better life?" Selah asked in shock as she pointed her javelin toward the rat's chin. "Yes... milady," Behaziel said, unsure how the wild weasel would react. "Then you should close your mouth before I sew it shut," Falsetooth snarled, walking back toward the front of the ship.
The tall female weasel cleaned off her snake fangs as she looked toward the eastern horizon and remarked, "My husband, wild fool that he is; would think our lives should be spent fighting badgers and taking their spoils. But I have no interest in treasures that will age and decay, nor a desire to be torn apart by those crazed beasts. My vision lies further east, Far from any life we ever knew."
"Perhaps if you shared this vision... it would allay the worries of the crew?" another rat Captain, this one named Revaret; said as the ship rocked back and forth in the night air.
Selah looked toward them again, seeing their worry and concern and for a moment softened; recalling the hard journey they had made from the southwestern shores.
She nodded in acceptance of their request before declaring, "Tomorrow at dawn. Vargas the Soothsayer will speak of the prophecy that led us here."
They all seemed pleased with this response as some of them had only heard the aged ferret speak a few words since they had stolen the Foxwolf. But each time he spoke it was filled with meaning and purpose.
Selah looked toward the corpses that her faithful crew had slain and smiled ruthlessly, a devious plan developing as she excused herself to the bowels of the mighty vessel.
The Foxwolf was a fine ship in its day before the Wars, built by the paws of mole slaves trained to be mindless savages it was a testament to what the mighty vermin of the southwest had once been. With three mighty masts and a trove of weapons meant to be used by at least a hundred strong rats, Selah knew that their path to a bright future was all but inevitable.
And nothing secured that in her mind more than to speak with the Mad Seer, her oldest ally, Vargas.
In the darkened galley of the ship, she used her nimble claws to open a locker storeroom where the male ermine sat and constantly scratched at his wounds that covered his arms, the fur falling off from the fact that he had not seen light in almost two seasons.
The ermine was covered with similar sores across his chest and neck, a reminder to any that although he was gifted to see into the future it had also driven him mad. His green eyes looked up toward his master as she entered and he tried to get up and escape, falling to the floorboard in front of Selah due to the shackles on his leg.
"Vargas, my faithful seer; you would be without wisdom to test my patience right now," she snarled, slamming the javelin down next to his scarred face.
The ermine stood back up, covering his wounded body with a sackcloth as he looked toward the darkness, waiting for Selah to explain why she had chose to visit now.
"The crew has grown restless, they feel I have gone off course from the path you set before us, from the call you hear in your endless dreams," the weasel explained as she walked closer to the Mad Seer.
"I have chosen to let you speak the words you told me four seasons ago, of the great sea that is trapped amid trees, and of our glorious victory over the northern mountains," Selah added causing the feral ermine to give the shadow of a smile.
"A future spoken in proverbs will only be fulfilled by those faithful to its words," Vargas answered as he returned to scratching his wounds.
"Calm yourself, my friend. They will trust you once they realize what spoils await us in the mountains," Selah added as she looked toward some of the food that he had eaten over the last season, only a few dried beets and moldy pieces of bread along with bones from caught fish and birds scattered across the floor.
"And what of the threats I also foresaw? The river spawn that could drown us all?" Vargas asked.
"You will speak only what is necessary to strengthen their faith. Nothing else. Let me handle those who would stand in our way," she said as she licked her long false fangs.
"You would have me lie to those who follow you?" The Mad Seer asked.
"A lie is only a lie if you never mention the truth," Selah replied as she passed him a few turnips that she had saved for herself. "Now is not the time to mention all of our journey, only that which will keep them from tearing each other to ribbons," Falsetooth snarled as she got up from the table Vargas was chained to.
Eagerly the Mad Seer ripped into the turnips as she hastened to leave and locked the door behind her. Vargas would need all his strength to speak his prophecy to those on the Foxwolf. And so would she, Selah thought as she retired to her quarters for the night.
XXXXXXXXX
Dawn came to the Western Sea before the first seagulls crested the sky, the long stern of the Foxwolf bobbing slowly as the wind barely started to fill its sails. Reveret was commanding the mole slaves that still lived on the bottom floor of the vessel, using his thick reed whip to lash against their backs and force them to row, chained to the deck for days the moles barely had the strength to even cry out in pain.
Up on the main deck Behaziel was rallying the other Captains to the front of the ship where Selah had chosen to dress in more fashionable attire, a pelt made of spider silk and feathers from a caught gull, a breast plate of silver and copper stolen from a mighty badger Lord and a helmet fitted from the skull of a fish, that made the weasel look even more fearsome than usual.
To her side, the Mad Seer looked toward the cloudless sky and the sun as though they were foreign objects that had only been spoken of to him in legend, his legs chained to the deck near the first mast as Selah rallied the crew to hear his words.
"My vermin brethren! You asked for reassurance toward the path we have chosen for ourselves. Now you will listen to my Seer, to your prophet," Selah Falsetooth shouted out, her voice echoing off the sea waters as the crew gathered near to where the corpses of their brethren still lay on the port side, stinking up the fresh morning air.
Vargas seemed to be waiting for silence to fall upon the crew as a small amount of drool dropped from his foaming mouth, finally ready to proclaim his vision.
"A forest as wide as the ocean covers a fertile land.
There the Falsetooth will find servants of the night, twisted to the ways of the wild. Trapped by the trees lies a sea sprawling and deep, with treasures to last a lifetime.
Across barren rocks she will wage war on the hidden caves, and find her way amid the thorns.
As blood soaks up the soil she will find a burial place for all that betray her and a sacred oath will be made toward the creatures of the night.
There across countless streams the Falsetooth will make good her promise of vengeance and reward, a stone will be cast. And a song of victory will echo across the valley."
Behaziel and the other Captains looked at each other in shock, surprised by the words the Mad Seer had spoken and another Captain, a mink named Nazier barked, "As we live for the Falsetooth so too will we die!" The others chanted this as well and Selah smiled showing her dangerous artificial fangs to the assembled.
"Begging your patience milady," Behaziel said as the chanting continued, "But the crew was wondering, what do we do as far as rations go? It is still another three days journey to the shorelines I am sure of it as sure as your Seer sees this prisoned Lake."
Selah looked at him, frustrated that her rat captain still doubted her and then gazed toward the slain that were beginning to decay and declared, "I have provided you food, the finest a warrior could ask for. To eat the flesh of ones own brethren will provide you their strength, their life force will become yours."
Behaziel looked toward the dead vermin that he had helped kill the night before, the thought of eating seeming repugnant to him and she snarled, "Command Your Soldiers to eat, Captain! Let them feel the power of death itself!"
Hesitantly the crew turned toward the corpses, and then Selah turned her back on them as they ripped apart flesh from bone, their hunger overpowering the strangeness of her orders.
"A powerful force will rise from this bloodshed, but will you be able to control it when the other parts of my vision come true?" Vargas snarled as several mute monks guided the chained ermine back to his prison.
"I will kill them all if means finding that blessed stone you saw in your dreams," Selah said, her false fangs gleaming as the sound of the unholy feast continued behind her.
