Misadventures

Marching and Complaining

War of the Four Banners

Redwall Short Story

It felt like an eternity to Bigfang, as his paws were pulled forward, having it taken hours to reach their destination. The younger weasel looked around at his surroundings which were all too familiar. Trees, hills, grass, all of it was about the same every time he and his family would roll their cart to that fair so far off. In his mind, it all kind of felt the same, a prisoner to the whims to another, and that he alone was truest prisoner of them all trapped in an unfortunate family business and now imprisoned by a group of woodlanders.

Then a very harsh tug jerked the family forward and sent him nearly flying to the ground which brought him back to reality.

Now, the difference seemingly was that the last few times he traveled this road, he wasn't being escorted by the coldest looking woodlanders he had ever seen in his life, nor were his paws chaffing under the ropes which bound him. He tried to struggle a bit and keep some sense of dignity, much more so than his mother and father whom were not taking it well either. Dakker was grumbling loudly to the point where even he could hear it, and his mother protectively began to carry Whitenose and Blacknose who looked behind at him, a little less fearful, but yet all the more unsure.

Bigfang passed his time watching clouds and looking left and right, confidence slowly came back to him when he came to believe he wasn't in too much terrible danger. Some of the soldiers next to him spoke to one another, their conversation was about as typical as a woodlander conversation would go.

"Seasons. Things I'd do just to get back to the bloody camp, eh?"

"Oh be silent you, I haven't eaten in an entire day you know! Can feel it. Blasted ol' captain dragged me out to do all this on me day off! When I was eating no less."

"Cheer up lad. Here."

Bigfang found it weird how helpful woodlander folk were, especially towards one another. His father mocked it openly, and he would have mocked it too if this strange group of warriors didn't seem so intimidating. One of the soldiers looked at him, noticing him staring as he was chowing down on some crumbly ration. That soldier turned to his companion and sneered "Swears I do, you'd think Raman be a bit madder after that whole ordeal, eh?"

"I'd not speak of it, not with the captain around. Last thing I need is a lashing from Gasger for 'spreading rumor and disunity' as they calls it."

Loamspear turned her head to this comment, as abnormal as it was. She held her young ones closer now. As the group continued, Bigfang was lost in daydreaming to pass the time. Yet even this interrupted when there was a yell to stop, and the young weasel bumped himself into his mother.

Raman appeared from his frontal spot in the marching order and came up to Dakker in particular. He motioned the others to unbind him from the line as Dakker gave a worried look to him and his family. Raman remained stone faced, harshly dragging the weasel a bit farther off, but still visible to the others. Surrounded by a few guards, the otter shoved the weasel a bit outward and spoke in an authoritative voice.

"Now that we are out of that. . .camp, I am going to ask you for the truth, weasel." Raman said in a seething tone. Dakker seethed back "What dat mouse said were der truth, wa-otter, or whatever ya want yerself to be called."

Dakker did not expect it, but Raman had quickly and harshly slapped him across the face, which nearly sent him flying. There was a yelp of concern from Loamspear as Raman awaited the weasel to recover. "Speak to me in such a tone again, vermin, and just see what happens. Now, tell me, what manner of extortion did you have over those beasts to protect you so."

"Extortion?!" Dakker angrily spat, nursing his cheek "I ain't extorted anyone in years!"

"So you did extort the beasts of Mossflower before?" The otter didn't seem surprised, as Dakker realized that he had just broken that illusion rather quickly. He was silent as the otter pushed him further "If you didn't extort them, what exactly were you doing there?"

"I was heading to a bleeding fair, of course! Ya dink dem round ears—"

"Mice." Raman furiously corrected

"Mice, had interest or coin to pay fer me wares? Hells, dat ding ya drank I was gonna give it der chief der free for helpen me out last year! I ain't no bandit ya blasted fool, I got me own hole in der ground! I make a decent amount of dat money trading what ya smashed up to moles an' vermin folk who visit it. Now I don't got a whole lot, now do I?"

Raman seemed to not believe him "From what I tasted; no decent beast would have drunk so readily of that. . .." Raman was unsure to even call it a 'drink', as it tasted like something out of some nightmarish kitchen accident. Raman grunted and continued regardless "I think you and I both know what that mouse had said was a lie, but why he so adamantly defended you is beyond me. Now, convince me why I should continue letting you march with us."

Loamspear had heard enough, yelping out "He won't cause no trouble, otter! Dakker, please, just tell em' what dey want to hear!"

Dakker's eyes partly widened as he could see that the otter was serious, he waited patiently for his response as Dakker gave a deep sigh. "Whatever der mouse said of me, weder it be true or not to ya, tis what I'll do. Ya happy?"

Raman shook his head "No. Not happy, but I'll expect you to keep your word. You will be quiet, obedient to my commands, be without violence from here on out. You go back on this demand, I will not be lenient, let alone merciful." He motioned one of the soldiers over as they returned to their positions in the marching order. Loamspear came close to her husband, her little ones horrified and not fully understanding what went on. Dakker tried to give a confident grin, but even he found it difficult to keep in high spirits after such an encounter, the group eventually reaching their destination after a long and more silent march.

Down towards one of the main roads, or really a hardly maintained and well-traveled dirt path between several of the larger settlements, Dakker could see a far larger gathering of beasts. The group was pulled forward at a quicker pace until Raman's stony expression turned to one of relief as he came up to another well-dressed beast waiting for him. Dakker was a little confused, it was a dormouse with an eyepatch on his left eye, an older and stronger beast he was not used to seeing. Most dormice he knew were skittish, simple, and often not at all intimidating. Raman clasped his paws to his "Captain Valtman! You have finished your patrols already?" Raman sounded surprised, but also happily relieved.

The dormouse answered, a wide smile across his face "Aye! Not as many settlements as I suspected there to be in the northern territories beyond the hills. Got a couple of rebels and barbarians to bring back to Palewind unfortunately. I see you are dragging behind a nice group of. . ." The dormouse stopped and squinted his eyes "Raman? You got hit recently?"

Dakker was a bit afraid as that conversation turned towards him, but the soldiers were pushing him away from this conversation and into a new line. The Grassweaves looked to see group of vermin, and some rather upset woodlanders, sitting in the road with shackles around their paws and ankles, connected to one of the most intimidating and battle-scarred hares Dakker had ever seen. He gave a grunt to their presence and ordered the soldiers around "Put those vermin in the back."

Dakker noticed a large cart was parked nearby as the soldiers rummaged through it. While at first relieved from the chafing of the rope bindings, only for him to frown when shackles were placed firmly and tightly on his paws, connected to the others. The same was being down to Loamspear and Bigfang, but not his youngest. When the soldiers tried to put the oversized shackles on them, realizing that it clearly didn't fit, the hare came over and angrily began slapping the soldiers around.

"If you idiots can't put shackles on them, keep them tied with ropes and tie them to the wagon in the back. Just put them on the bloody cart!" He barked orders and the soldiers went straight to it. The hare hovered over the remaining Grassweaves and angrily seethed under his breath "Sit down and be silent." He ordered, and Dakker and his family quickly did so. Dakker could no longer hear Raman, but he got a good look at the other prisoners.

In doing so, he was incredibly shocked, if not horrified.

Most were beasts he somewhat knew or knew downright. There was a couple of rats, two cousins whom he had shared drinks with and were just as surprised and depressed to see him. There was a ferret who was a petty thief and wannabe gangster he had chased off from his home once, alongside him was his sister of Bigfang's age. There was another rat he didn't fully recognize, but he was also young as well, and looked very beaten up. Yet was more surprising were the woodlanders on this chain lead. There was an elderly vole who seemed incredibly spiteful, a mouse maiden who gave the vermin a spiteful look, and a younger otter who kept up a frown. What was strange about both the mouse and otter was that both wore tattered uniforms, a lighter gambeson, and red shirts beneath. These were common clothes of local militias, village defenders. The mouse he knew personally at least, and it warmed Dakker's heart to see her such a miserable mood.

"How der hells did ya end up in dis same boat, Lena?" Dakker gave a cruel smile. The mouse gave him a nasty look and spat at him. Dakker wiped the spit from him, as it was well deserved. In his banditry days, his boss had harshly beaten on her father, and more than once did she chase him and the gang away from the town.

"I always knew I'd see you in chains, Dakker." She grunted in annoyance "Though, if you must know, didn't think I'd end up here first."

"Ya, but dat don't answer me question doh." Dakker said. Lena rolled her eyes and answered "This lot came to our village, said we now were apart of some blasted realm called Southsward. I told them to shove off, and they didn't appreciate that at all. Now, I am to be 'taught the value of manners and hard work' or something. . ." Lena looked to Dakker, but then her mood calmed to a depression as she looked at Loamspear who held Bigfang close to her, although that attention was rejected by the moody teen who tried to keep a stiff upper lip. "Your entire family, huh?"

"Yea." Loamspear answered for her husband, tempted as he was to mock his old rival. "We heard a bit late dat we all der vermin are getten rounded up? Ya know what be happenen fully?"

Lena shook her head and looked to the vole who turned his head slowly to them "Yer lucky." He only answered. Dakker growled "Lucky?! Ya call dis lucky!" He was partly attempting to yell but in doing so grabbed the hare overseer's attention. He came over, and angrily slapped the weasel upside his head as he yelled up to the prisoners "What part of 'no talking' did you not understand? Do so again and consider your rations halved."

Once the hare was gone, then the group began to speak up again in a slow manner. The vole explained to Dakker in an incredibly angry tone "Your lucky that they only captured you. That rat over there? They beat him to pulp, but his brothers they beaten right into the dark forest. Those ferret's parents got hanged. They are killing violent beasts, weasel, including an ol' friend of mine."

The otter spoke up and sighed "I'm sorry about Cratepaw, Nuels."

"Yea. Well. Sorry don't bring him back." The vole cursed under his breath. He looked to Dakker and Loamspear, their jaws sunk from what they heard. He whispered to the group, hoping in vain for some relief.

"Palewind, dat is where dey be taken us. That's a Long Patrol fort right? Dem hares, as stuck up as dey are, aren't goin along wit any of dis?"

The group looked at Dakker as if they wanted to say something but were too broken to do so. It was the otter who spoke up first "Weasel. They aren't camped just as Palewind. They took it over."

"Took it over?" Loamspear asked, and Dakker widened his eyes in a sudden realization.

"Aye. Tis why I am here. I helped one of their scouts escape back north, and got caught myself. They. . .ummm. . .killed the Long Patrol who didn't join them."

Dakker looked at the otter in disbelief "No. Dat can't be right. Der woodlander folk. Right?"

"They are. They also killed Long Patrol. I don't fully know why."

These realizations were hitting Dakker and his family like a train over and over again. Dakker put his shackled paws to his face, wanting to scream out in horrible pain, but decided against it. As he was recovering from this terrible news, the soldiers began to pick up the prisoners as they heard orders from their captors

"Move out! We head to Palewind! Chins up, and march!"

These orders were followed by the hare overseer's own command "Keep up pace, you lot. We aren't stopping for anything!"

"Are we there yet?"

The squirrel soldier from the back of the marching column was looking less and less enthused about being far from the main marching order, where he could normally just keep his own pace without being overly professional. He could even talk to a couple of other soldiers to pass the time, but as he looked up at two rope bound small weasel children, they bombarded him and his companion with an endless tide of questions, demands, and concerns. He had no heart to tell them, let alone his hare companion beside him, to shut up or to tell them something uncomfortable.

"No." The hare answered with a sigh "We are not there yet."

"Wells, whun will we be?" The other one asked innocently.

"I don't know." The squirrel responded, "Maybe if you two sleep it off, maybe you'll be there sooner?"

"I ain't sleepy doh!" "Me neder!"

"Either." The hare tried to correct, but the young weasel felt insulted "Dat whut we says. Neder."

The hare frowned and looked at his companion for help. They were soldiers, not child sitters, and certainly not the child sitters of future serfs. The group continued to march on as the prisoners kept pace with their captors. The wagon, pulled by the soldiers issued an endless slew of their own complaints which only made the imprisoned beasts even more uncomfortable.

"Why the hells we carrying all this anyway? I mean, look at them, they ain't doin much are they? Why can't we let the serfs bleeding pull this! Hells, we be pullen extra weight with those two in the back."

"Oh stop complaining, not like we will be pushing this blasted thing forever! Besides, you don't want the captains overhearing you. They'd put us latrine duty for a week!"

Of all the beasts who seemed the most miserable was Bigfang who thought his earlier troubles in just coming down the hill in total bordom, now felt like he was being bored to death by the marching and exhaustion. Shackles, as it would turn out, are heavy and clinked so often that it rung through his ears. Although not as tight fitting on him as was others, he was still restricted by it enough to make it difficult for him to do much. There was not even a single insect that passed by him to catch his attention as Bigfang dramatically huffed air out of his mouth. One of the passing soldiers grew annoyed with this, not because he expected it to happen from depressed prisoners, but because Bigfang did this little huffing and sighing routine incredibly often.

"Could you at least breath like a normal beast." One of the frustrated guards asked. Bigfang only responded with an even more dramatic sigh. The soldier nudged him a bit as Bigfang spoke back with a clear, but dumb, spite.

"Hey! I ain't dun nutten wrong!"

"Boy!" Dakker yelled back to Bigfang "Stop antagonizing dem."

Bigfang only groaned to this as he issued his complaints "By the bleeding seasons, I'm exhausted, me feet an' paws hurt, an' I ain't eaten or drank since on dis stupid journey ya brought us on!"

Dakker turned around, his eyes glazed with fury and only was met back with similar fury. The soldier who had tried to stop the youngster from annoying him only watched in cringed concern as the two laid their stress onto each other.

"Ya gonna wanna say dat louder to me, boy, cause it sounden like ya blamen me fer getten us got like dis!?"

"But ya did! Now look where we be! Such a great pa ya turned out to be, old bag!"

"Boys. Please." Loamspear tried to speak up weakly, but was ignored, Dakker laying into his son with further troubles. "Ya sayen somethen, cause I'll come back der an' beat ya black an blue I will, Bigfang!"

Bigfang smirked, knowing his father could not do so "Ya, I'd like to see ya try, snot nose."

The soldier could hear these weasels loud and clear, absolutely astonished as they continued to speak unkindly to one another. He turned to Lena, who was marching behind them, unfazed by the whole ordeal. He asked "Are all the bleeding vermin families like this?"

Lena gave him a sour look but sighed and nodded, especially as the three infighting beasts began to pick up traction as Dakker tried to fling dirt behind him and Bigfang spitting back. "Ya. Most of them at least."

"How the bleeding hells did you folk ever tolerate it, my word!" The soldier asked, as curses were flung between the two. Eventually, the overseeing hare angrily shouted "Halt!"

The group halted, as Bigfang seemed less confident and more silent as now that they had stopped moving, his angry father could now more properly get to him and really show him a piece of his mind. Yet, the family looked to a hare practically red eyed and fuming as he pushed past the soldiers and angrily shouted at them "Will you three be silent, or I will have all of you gagged for the remainder of this trip!"

"Dis ain't yer business, long ears." Dakker cursed, and the hare took great offense. He came up to the weasel, practically towering over him as Dakker felt a tingle of fear and moved back a bit. The hare spoke up, clearly holding back a rage that could kill a lesser beast. "You call me a 'long ears' again, vermin, and you'll be wishing they hanged you. I am Gasger Blackfoot, promoted to overseer by his majesty's army. The soldiers around you are trained and drilled by me, and if I don't tolerate such business from them, what do you think I am going to tolerate from you?"

Bigfang dumbly answered "Not much den?"

"None at all." Gasger growled out. He turned to Bigfang, whose confidence seemed to flow from him now that he was looking up at him. "You bother my soldiers with your groaning, and just see what happens."

"No need to bodder him." Dakker quickly spoke up, and Loamspear joined in "Nay, he just stressed ya know? We haden't eaten, lon-" Loamspear caught herself and spoke up "Hare."

Gasger rolled his eyes and looked to the group "We don't stop for anything. Now get back into line."

"Gasger." Raman's voice was loud and clear as he came over. He had partly heard what was happening, joined with him was Valtman who was frowning. Gasger straightened himself up and stood at attention. Raman gave an annoyed look to the Grassweaves, but turning his attention fully to the hare "I don't want another delay. We rest for a moment, pass out the food and water. These three get half rations."

Dakker growled "Half rations fer what!?"

"One fourth rations." Valtman said coldly. This time Bigfang spoke up "Now looks what ya be doin, pa! One fourth of some crumb, eh?!"

Raman grew frustrated, as he spoke up even louder "Then one eighth rations, and be silent!"

"Yea well, guess whats, now look whatcha ya did boy, not even a crumb of crumb! Oh whens I get me paws on ya, yer gonna regrets it!"

Valtman was now done and beyond annoyed, yelling loudly to them "Then no blasted rations for any of you! Fine! Gasger, move this lot out, we don't stop till we reach the main camp!"

Gasger was about to make his order before Lena spoke up "Hey, what about the rest of us?"

Valtman partly realized a bit late when he made his order that there were, in fact, other prisoners. He pushed his paws into his head and grumbled to himself, speaking up once he collected himself "Gasger. Delay my previous orders, we rest here."

Loamspear then spoke up a bit hopeful "Previous orders as in no rations, gov'ner?"

Raman and Valtman frowned, and could tell their march was going to be much longer, then either of them intended.

Dakker was unsure what to really think as he looked down at the bowl in front of him. It was certainly a bowl alright, but it was very shiny, expensive looking, and the most intricately designed he had ever seen. Now true, it was chipped a bit, but the contents in the bowl were a far more impressive. It was a soup, fine smelling and full of carrot, cabbage, smell of some manner of sweetener and a spicy sauce which he was not at all familiar with. He drank of it and was absolutely blasted back at its taste. This was the food for kings and abbots, not for vermin like himself, and drank from the bowl very greedily. Loamspear and his son Bigfang were also eating in much the same manner, along with the other prisoners and soldiers. Some were resting their legs, others were reading some manner of book, writing journals, or taking care of their hygiene. Loamspear looked between her son and husband, and quickly began to chide them silently, as Gasger and his lackies surrounded the prisoners.

"Ya two are lucky we ain't at home or I'd have smashed yer heads in wit a pan! What was dat all about, eh Bigfang? Ya tryen to get us killed? An ya Dakker, ya should have known better!"

"Sorry, love." Dakker sighed, although still angry at his son who only gave a grunt to this speech "I be less meself is all, now as fer ya snot nose. . ."

"Sorry, geez." Bigfang rolled his eyes, but this time got a slap above his head by his mother. Like always it hurt, as he rubbed the back of head, but it did get him to stop and pay some attention even though it also emboldened his spiteful view of them both. "Yer me son, but yer also an idiot Bigfang. We aren't in a good place, an de's chains aren't yer pa's fault. Now apologize. Der both of ya, or I will make dis lot of crazy woodlanders look like a three ring circus!"

"Sorry, ya old bag o' bones." Groaned Bigfang

"Sorry, twerp." Seethed Dakker

Loamspear only sighed as both went back to finishing their meal. One creature who overheard them, highly annoyed by their antics crept close and spoke up to them "Will you three calm yourselves? Last thing we need is you lot doing all manner of troubles as it is!"

It was of course Lena who squinted her eyes at them. Dakker grunted and dismissed her concerns "It ain't yer concern, round ears. I can handle me own kin."

"Clearly not." Lena was about creep close to them, before noticing Gasger, Raman, and Valtman approaching them. The Grassweaves looked up at their captors as Raman ordered them "Get up."

They did so as Gasger swiftly removed the empty bowls of soup as the two captains led the shackled weasels away from the group. The prisoners looked at them concerned, unsure of what their intentions were. Dakker and Loamspear grew in greater concern as they were led farther and farther away, till the captains stopped and turned to them. Valtman and Raman looked less angry but rather disappointed as the Grassweaves kept a silence. Valtman began to speak, his manner harsh and crude.

"I want you three to know something before we continue. You are incredibly lucky, luckier than most, but that luck ends now. These troubles may be tolerated partly by my good friend here, but I won't stand for it. Especially from you." Valtman pointed to Dakker.

"Like I keep sayen. I didn't do a blas—" Loamspear nudged her husband which made him stop mid-sentence. Valtman's voice became harsher "You see those ferrets in that line? They were petty bandit filth much like you lot are, guilty of more crimes than you can even count. I hanged them. I killed a number of beasts down here, and you three won't be much different." The mood in the Grassweaves changed to one of terror and surprise. Dakker realized partly why they had been brought out this way, and nearly fell to his knees and pathetically begged up at him "Wait, hold on, no no no, twas my fault ya see, not ders, please I beg ya, don't—"

Dakker was cut off as Valtman rolled his eyes "Get up, vermin. If I intended to kill any of you now, we wouldn't be having this conversation." The dormouse surprised Dakker, as he roughly brought the shackled weasel up with ease and pushed him back into his family. Raman continued where Valtman left off.

"You had warnings before, but that ends now. Any more problems on our way to Palewind from you three, there will be more dire consequences."

Valtman growled out "If it were up to me, you would be missing a paw, weasel and you would be starved for a week! Punching a royal officer is one thing but continuing to act in this manner only earns our contempt. Not our respect."

Dakker was silent and horrified, and so were his family. Valtman shook his head and turned to Raman who nodded to him. The one-eyed dormouse left as Raman stood at attention to them. He motioned with his paw in silence for them to return and they quickly did so. Raman sighed and went to see Valtman who was waiting for him. The older dormouse gave a nasty look to the weasel family who sat in terrified silence as commented "If Shackleford is correct, they won't learn. Why you bother with that lot Raman is beyond me. I'd have just killed them and be done with it."

Raman sighed "I was tempted to when they gave me that rotten drink, but a mouse convinced me otherwise. Who knows Valtman. Maybe they'll surprise me."

Valtman grunted "I hope your optimism is contagious, Raman. Cause they won't get that same protection back in Palewind."

The soldiers behind the caravan looked tired and miserable, looking up at their two naïve and horrible tormenters. They had fought in battles against lizards and frogs, they had drilled under the harsh lash loving Gasger, and they had marched through sand and hills. Yet it was the endless sea of questions from Whitenose and Blacknose that was breaking them.

"We der yet now?"

"No."

"Now?"

"You just asked that, we aren't there now. Soon though." The hare said with relief

"How about now? Dey got food der?"

"Yes."

"Oh, we der then!?"

"Wait no."

"Ya just said yes. So we der or not?" Whitenose folded his paws in an upset manner. The soldiers tiredly looked at one another. They had mixed feelings about this whole situation. On one hand, these two devils were vermin, the enemy they were sent to Mossflower to chase out and Frankfort in his mercy had ordered them civilized by harsh means. On the other hand, these were two dibbums, naïve and wide eyed who were even by their own standards were innocent beasts. They had the authority to act on them, but had no heart for it. Then there was the whole problem with personal honor, a topic the two soldiers pushed out of their minds.

One of the weasels looked at the two and kept on smiling, not fully aware nor really responsive to their situation, even with the ropes tied around their ankles and paws. One of the soldiers looked on and gave a huge sigh of relief.

"Oh seasons. Finally."

"We der yet?"

"Yes!" Both soldiers joyfully answered in unison. The weasels perked up and began to climb the baggage on the cart till they were on top of it. However, this was not intended as the hare quickly climbed into the cart to get them before they fell and hurt themselves. They got a brief glimpse at long last where they were going, and their jubial smiles turned into annoyed frowns.

In truth, they expected something closer to a fair ground as they remember, and in truth they were familiar with such a setting. It was a massive camp full of yellow and white tents and pavilions which lined for what looked to be a mile or two, surrounding a small steep hill with a hare fort on top of it. There was a crudely constructed wooden wall around another group of tents and wooden temporary structures, with an endless row of organized tents surrounding various campfires. Soldiers marched up and down its well-worn paths, giving bored glances at the newcomers. It wasn't very magical, and kinda felt rather disappointing.

"Hey. Dis be der fair? Where are der big ol' circus tent!"

The hare caught up to them and sighed, lying to them as he brought them back down to the edge of the cart "Erm, somewhere close by I bets. Now, you two won't be seeing it anytime soon unless be quiet the rest of the way! Now please, stay still." The two soldiers looked on relief as the two held their breath, yet felt their hearts drop as they realized the two did not know the true danger they were getting into.

Dakker and his family were not in such a good mood as others were. Nor were the other prisoners. The ferret held his younger sister close to him as they passed towards the many tents and soldiers. The sights and sounds terrified the group, as foreign as it all was to them. The woodlander prisoners were almost enchanted by what they saw, all except the vole who looked at it all in terrible anger and spite. Dakker looked around and heard the unmistakable crack of a whip high in the air, followed by a scream of pain. The sound got everyone's attention as they passed close to the wall. Down in a trench, a group of vermin and a woodlander were shoveling a trench, with one rat bent over on his back, crying partly as he recovered and got back to work. They all looked miserable, looking up and pitying the coming prisoners. Overseers looked down at them as Dakker noticed their shortened and trimmed fur, their newish looking and baggy clothes, and the yellow vests they wore. He was confused as they group returned to their work as the prisoners went past them.

Dakker looked up at the wooden wall, and as and his family passed through it, guards on either side of them, he came to know that he would not escape nor would his family anytime soon. He sighed, resigned to his fate as they entered the Southsward camp.