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start of final week.
Chapter 60. In Your World..
by Antonio
Too broken to belong
too weak to sing along
I'll comfort you my friend
Helping you to
Blow it all away
In your world
No one is crying alone
In your world
No one is dying alone
Antonio took a breath and, surprised by his own action, rolled his eyes. In retrospect, it was quite befuddling to arrive at this juncture. He was very possibly teetering over the precipice of death from a beast whom, by the sound and smell of things, could either be a well-trained officer forced to live out in the field for more than his share of nights or else a homeless beast with a very prim accent. Annoyance, above all others, took the forefront of his emotions. The stoat took an existential second to reflect on exactly what this could mean, wonder if he had simply seen so much death that not even his own would matter now or if his weariness of failure had spread to other aspects of his life, primarily those having to do with living.
"Sir, I would ask that – "
A sharp poke in his back stopped his words with such force that he could feel them sliding back down his throat before they could be said.
"Not a word or I'll slay you."
So I suppose a lesson on better wash habits in the field is out of the question then?
This beast's stink was beginning to severely disrupt Antonio's chain of thought.
The stoat was lead from the room, down the stair. Waiting at the ground floor circled around the now dwindling fire were a group of hares. Antonio's brow twitched.
"Found him upstairs with a bunch of papers strewn about him."
The stoat rolled his eyes and voiced aloud, "A most astute conclusion. How ever did you arrive at such a skillfully-phrased statement?"
A kick to the back of his knees was meant to make him kneel, but despite the aching protest of his limbs, he resisted half-way down. He was not about to bow to these beasts.
Another hare, this one female, stepped to the forefront. Antonio straightened himself before looking her in the eye. He could tell just from her stance that this was the leader of the rabble.
"One can see your soldier's training pays off well. Subduing a camp of just four beasts, one of whom is quite injured, would have been an ordeal without such a number of well-armed troops, surely."
The commanding officer had more tact than Antonio's first appraisal gave her. Rather than grimace or snap at him, she merely responded, "You yourself are hardly unarmed. What of that sack of weaponry?"
Antonio's brows lifted. "What of it? I know exactly where it came from and exactly why we have such a thing, but I am curious to hear your thoughts on the matter."
The officer put up a paw and looked over Antonio's shoulder, presumably to stop the beast behind from retaliating physically once more.
"The Feldoh's Heirs are in an uproar right now. These are their weapons, correct?"
Resisting the urge to vocalize another quip, Antonio simply nodded. "Correct."
"And that otter there, he is a prisoner?"
"Only formerly such." Although much of that depends on how he feels in the morning when we make our way back to the Oasis. Antonio never thought he would ever look forward to returning to that whore's hole, crawling with those rowdy, unkempt creatures and that boorish rat. Considering present company, though, the alternative was very appealing.
"You see," he explained. "The Feldoh's Heirs had somehow taken it into their minds that this beast was in fact their enemy. We rescued him."
"And I supposed you did that simply out of the goodness and purity of your hearts, did you?"
A smile with just a hint of teeth sprang to life on the stoat's face. "Correct. I am sure of that just as I am sure that you are simply keepers of peace who would never, ever hurt a beast that did not merit such treatment, even if they were, say, a house full of refugees or perhaps even an unarmed wolfmaid, out for a stroll upon the beach."
From his vantage point Antonio could neither sight Silisk nor Zula but he thought he heard a muted, "Oh," from the small vixen at this.
The officer closed her eyes, opening them after for a lengthy stare into Antonio's. The urge to lunge forward and gouge them from her head was nearly irrepressible.
"I am sorry about the fate of your comrade. I'm so sorry."
Laughter, cold and barking erupted from the stoat's throat, for once something he did not have to fake. "I am quite sure that you are. You're friends to all 'vermin' are you not? Why else would you have one as a guide?"
He had noticed the guide moments ago, trying not to make eye contact with the beast ever since. What a rank and despicable disgrace for his species he was, siding with enemies of such tact. No doubt he was doing it all for payment: blood for gold. The General would have loved a beast like this on his court.
"We did not kill your friend. One of our officers, his name was Woxley," A clearly visible flinch went through the group of hares at the name. "He deserted. He didn't agree with my orders and thought it was better to go off on his own. He killed your friend. And he did it on his own."
Antonio scoffed. "Please, spare me such simple tricks."
"She's tellin' the truth, swear by m'blood!" their vermin cohort insisted, for all the weight that added to the hare's claim.
"And I am supposed to believe what their servant boy tells me?"
The guide started at Antonio, pulled back by one of the hare guards. "Servant boy!? You'd better watch you're mouth, pretty whiskers, afore somebeast cuts it off!"
The commanding officer's eyes never left his own. In them, Antonio could see not even the slightest measure of guile or misdirection or lie, glints that he knew well and whose attributes he had carefully noted and studied since a young age. Those twin orbs burning with sincerity, she repeated in a tone as level as the flat edge of a knife, "We did not kill your friend."
Antonio blinked. Nobeast could fool him like that. They were liars with a skill he had never seen before. And yet, did their story not correspond to the story the other hare had given him, the one that he screamed was true? In that hare's eyes, was there not that same spark of…
Antonio did his best not to allow his eyes to widen even the slightest bit. He kept up the guise of a beast begrudgingly coming to accept a story his enemy had told him. Within, the realization was panning out in a much more chaotic way.
"Be that as it may, why is it you have detained us? We have done nothing wrong." The stoat thought for a moment. "To you."
"Salamandastron business," said the female officer.
"They wanted t'know what we were doin' in Sarky's mansion earlier," said Zula, a small voice in the dark.
Antonio's eyes shifted. He pawed his chin, spread his shoulders. A sly look did its best to burrow into his face despite everything erupting beneath.
"Ah yes, hunting for the Brandy, are we? No need to appear so surprised," he added before the hare could say anything. "It is the only thing of practical value on this island at the moment. I doubt a military organization would venture so far out of its way to recover gold and trinkets from a place riddled with disease and unrest. Allow me to submit a proposition."
An irritated hiss accompanied his response. "Why shouldst we deal with yon ruffians? You yourself said they had not right attacking us. And I remember Zula informing me that these cretins threatened her with bodily harm most foul."
Would that she was a dragon, she would have set them all aflame and gobbled them up; her typically unreadable features told Antonio that much. And would that it were a few moments ago, Antonio would have let her do as such. Things had changed, though. The plan had changed.
"Miss Silisk, assure you this is in our mutual interest. They desire the Brandy, we desire to leave here unharmed," he turned his glance back to the hare. "And, quite frankly, we could use some additional assistance in the coming battle."
"We aren't to meddle."
"Not if you do not want your precious Brandy you will."
The hare grimaced. "Very well." She motioned him to continue.
"Moments ago, I discovered a box upstairs hidden behind a wall. Inside were documents on how to distil the Brandy, for in its raw state it is lethal to any who drink it. Now, a few days prior, my group and I encountered a very similar box, identical in every way to this other box. I have no doubt that your Brandy is in that box. In order to obtain it, however, you will have two choices; either storm a building full of very frustrated Evnakt refugees - something I would wager you are not very much up to considering that at least four of your troops have been killed in action - or agree to assist us."
The hare paused to give it some thought, as well she should. The answer was clear, but why soil her image by replying too promptly?
"Very well," she said at last.
Antonio frowned. He thought that surely she would have gone the full customary ten seconds before replying. She was beginning to disappoint him.
"Good. Then, if you will wait until morning, we can depart for our base of operations together."
"I don't think so," said the officer, standing as firm as ever. "Deal or no, we aren't about to go walking into an enclosed space filled with potential enemies."
Squelching the scowl building on his lips, Antonio replied, "Very well. At the end of the day tomorrow, I will send somebeast here with directions on how we are proceeding in the battle."
"You don't already know?"
His scowl flared once more. "Despite my natural skill for negotiations and tactics, I am not, as it were, in charge of our forces proper. It is more of a…collaboration," said Antonio, striving to keep the venom out of that last word.
"Whoever we send will have the details of our attack and will relay what I believe to be the best course of action for you. Now, after that it is your choice on how best to continue. Bear in mind, though, that the greater the chance of our group losing the war, the smaller the chance the you'll ever see your Brandy; as you've seen, the Feldoh's Heirs are not one for low-impact tactics and they tend to leave a great deal of rubble in their wake. Something as fragile as a vial of Red Brandy could easily break in the scuffle."
"If you don't break it first?" the hare behind him accused.
Antonio chuckled. "Smarter than you appear. But, jesting aside, yes. Should we lose the battle, I will not hesitate to destroy the Brandy. Know that, unlike you all, I have nothing to lose."
"We have a deal then. Captain, with me," said the hare, gesturing to the one behind Antonio. Her entire group began to file out of the door, leaving the commanding officer the last to exit. But not before she gave Antonio a parting threat.
"And you know this; should there be any treachery in your plans, the slightest fragment -"
"You'll have me hanged, roasted over a pit, ware my guts for garters, have my toes for tea, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera," Antonio said in droll tones. "You hares vastly lack imagination when it comes to threats of bodily harm."
"Would you prefer a fate similar to what happened to our scout?"
Antonio's steady gaze met the hare's, remaining just as level, just as steady. "I assure you, I know little to nothing of the specifics behind that act. It was decided in a discussion I was unfortunately not a part of."
Without so much as looking back over her shoulder, the hare exited to an almost audible rush of relief from all those gathered around the fire.
Everybeast was clearly shaken by the recent encounter and in turn dealt with such stress in their own way; Silisk's tail shifted restlessly, a hollow scraping sound reverberating throughout the ruined building to make the environment all the more foreboding, whilst her hissed mutterings of "fool earthcrawlers" and "daft long-ears" accompanied the macabre rhythm. Gericault contemplated the floor so deeply Antonio suspected he was attempting to will it to swallow him up. Zula, concerned eyes and restless paws, fidgeted with her own blouse, occasionally switching over to her bushy tail that was now perched in her lap. Her countenance especially bore the look of a deep impact, so much so that Antonio though it was not just the hare's arrival that had shaken her so.
The serpent's mutterings, however, soon changed from irritant hisses to direct conversation.
"Sir Antonio, what think you really of the trustworthiness of those hares? What truly think you of such a negotiation?"
"Silisk, you are quite welcome for my diplomacy in dealing with those hares," said Antonio snidely.
"Would that I was thankful, I would accept such a nicety."
"That was sarcasm, Silisk." Then, when her expressionless face showed an even greater absence of understanding. "A jest, Your Majesty."
Silisk seemed a bit taken aback at being addressed so, as well as clearly befuddled at the prospect of both being insulted and bestowed with such a title at the same time. Regardless of what conclusions she came to about how to feel, Antonio continued.
"I believe that they will either play to my wishes or else simply disappear from out our lives. Hares are not devious creatures by nature. Discriminatory, perhaps, boorish definitely, disregarding of common hygienic courtesies most certainly," He shook himself and blew air out of his nose, trying hopelessly to dislodge the aroma left over by the foul beast. "But I am well aware of how a beast appears when lying and they were not."
Internally, he raged, Merciful fates, they did not lie. Not about a single thing.
Silisk, though looking as though she had much more to say, chose to lie mute for the time being.
Antonio sighed. Try as he might to get a grasp on his rapidly moving mind, he could not stop the thoughts that cascaded through, images that passed before his eyes, portraits of pain and destruction, of bloodied tools, blades rusted over with bodily fluids. His own vest became something he wanted to rip off and toss into the fire for all the traces of blood that were left behind upon it. He had been wrong, just the latest in a vast line of failures. The hare had been innocent.
The stoat crossed around the fire, sat down next to Zula. What cared he of a soldier? They existed as pawns, fated to die to further the expansion of empires. He was a prince. What cared he of the life of a pawn when he was so close to being a King?
Because Chess is not as bloody. Pieces are pieces; be they wood or marble, they are only just. But flesh is flesh, lives are lives. Innocent blood is innocent blood.
Antonio crossed toward Zula and sat down without opening his eyes. When they finally opened, they came to rest on the small fox, huddled even smaller as she continued to fidget with her clothing and tail. No sooner did Antonio open his mouth to ask what was the matter than tears began streaming down her face, landing burning hot on his thigh.
"Zula," he said, a bit more sternly than he had meant. He had not regrettably had few dealings with children before now, but he knew how you should treat one.
"I'm sorry," said Zula, clutching the hem of her shirt even tighter.
"Do not be." Antonio made as if to pat her on the back, halting half-way so as not to disturb the symmetry of the fabric's folds.
"It's jus…it's…it's Rekkua," she managed to say under the undulating sobs. "I've been thinkin' about her…and I can't…"
"It is alright, Zula."
"No, it's not, Mister Tonio," she said, her tone more sincere than simply contradicting. "They…they…"
"Zula, she was infected with the same blight that caused the earthcrawlers' kingdom to collapse on itself. It could not be helped."
Much as Silisk's approach greatly lacked tact, she was correct. Antonio had seen what Rekkua had become in her final moments, if for only a second. In that second, however, he knew there was no salvation for the lizard. A pity. No, greater than a that.
"But I saw here!" Zula protested, eyes bleary, nose beginning to run. "She recognized me an' when I was with Miz Pearl, we went to the sewers where Nyveer had 'undreds of beasts wot were infectamabobed or whatever the word is, an', an', an they got better. They didn't havta…they didn't."
She could no longer hold against the strain. Zula buckled into thin, drawn-out sobs that rasped out of her throat and began to flow as the dam broke, setting free streaming tears in full. Antonio's lower lip pressed into the upper. From the corner of his eye, he could see Gericault make a move to say something, prompting Antonio to look him in the eye and shake his head. He knew what the otter would say. He had been in the same sickly-warm place before, where one's face felt fit to implode under the forced grimace despair forced the body into, while razorblades tore at the inside of the throat to become deep, cutting sobs. The old cliché's would not suffice here.
"Zula," He inched his way closer to her. "I had a friend, long ago, when I was about your age. It was just after my father passed and I was moved into the care of the Royal Guard. They were sworn by honor to protect me and for most of them that was the only reason. Skilled as they were at their positions, they saw me as only an object to be protected. Save my friend; he was unique."
He could see his friend then, helping him up after a quarrel with one of the servant boys, his friend's smile so wide it coaxed another one from behind Antonio's dead-set grimace.
"He took a liking to me. He was younger and so was not like his superiors. He did not think of me as an assignment but as a friend, an equal. I remember him sneaking me food from the kitchens when I was punished for talking out of turn. I remember playing games after lessons with the Guard. The time came where he was my personal attendant, virtually a body guard."
The stoat stared into the fire and shook his head.
"Yet he was still young. He was still naive to think that he could handle any threats to me on his own. One night, he fell for an assassin's trick and perished, a bolt through his heart killing him almost immediately."
He looked Zula in the eye.
"We all experience loss. It is inevitable. And nothing I say, not even the words that I am saying now, will likely change how you feel about Rekkua and all that has happened. One cannot know the pain of another; my friend could never know what it felt like to lose my father, the Guard could never know what it felt like to lose my friend. Nevertheless, you have friends with whom you may speak, even if it only eases the pain the smallest mite."
At first, Zula did not say as much as a solitary syllable. Soon enough, though, she spoke about her experiences with Rekkua, their awkward meeting in the cells, how the reptile seemed to overcome her disdain for warm-blooded creatures in order to assist them in their endeavors to free more prisoners of the Feldoh's Heirs. It was an often bumbling affair, complete with stalls, pregnant pauses, clumsy interjections. When it was finished, though, Zula seemed a bit better for all of it, although there was still much crying to be had on her part. Her compatriots soon followed, all save Antonio. The stoat had nobeast to talk to, not about loss, nor his constant discomfort, nor especially how at long last blood he had spilt had not been in self defense, nor the interests of justice as he had callously thought. Alone, the stoat stared into the fire, watching as the flames collapsed the wood into ash.