Hey, y'all sorry for the slight delay. Initially, I didn't have this chapter planned but I figure it would be good to add. Baring anything major the fourth chapter should be coming out sooner rather than not. Please let me know what you think. All feedback is greatly appreciated.
The sky above the dark green nettles was an ashen grey. The cloaked figure stood beneath the sopping branches of a pine looking up as if she was searching for a long-lost relative or her next meal. After a while, she stopped searching the sky and focused her attention on surveying the surrounding forest and hills. She was on a small bluff where several trees stood perched. Although the hill she stood on was taller than the rest, the poor weather and the tops of spruce and oak trees limited what she could see. She bit the inside of her mouth in frustration, and angrily shook the rainwater that had accumulated on the hood of her cloak.
Sathe was mad at herself, not only had she deserted the horde without taking any of her belongings, but she had also managed to get herself and her fellow deserters completely lost. She cursed the awful weather and the fools she had deserted with. Most of them were ignorant brutes who could only swing their swords competently enough to be the lowest foot soldiers. A perfect example was that ugly blundering weasel and his mate. She spat and cursed herself for being foolish enough to follow the prophesizing of an old sea rat. She was a seer to the greatest horde the north had ever seen. Why should she take orders from him? Although she was the least among her fellow seers, her word overshadowed all horde beasts save Zidar and a select few officers. She should be with the horde dry in her tent with her belly full, not starving and soaking wet in the freezing rain! She could have had any one of these mindless beasts slain if she really wished it. If she had told some beast about Seabanes treachery she wouldn't be freezing her tail off now! She probably would have been lauded by Zidar himself. A malicious smile crept across her face as she began to fantasize about the praise that would have been lavished on her. Zidar would have called her up after executing Seabane and would have glorified her before the whole horde! She would have been promoted! No longer would she oversee the healers and be pestered for herbs or tonics to cure bumps, bruises, or other minor lacerations that were far beneath her. She would no longer be nightly entertainment for Zidars insolent officers. She would be respected, or she would be feared! Perhaps she would become the acolyte to Roteye the seer who reported to Zidar himself! A distant clap of thunder returned her mind to the present. She looked down at the grove of trees at the foot of the bluff where the vermin deserters were waiting for her. Sadly, she reminded herself that most likely she would have been killed for being a conspirator of Seabanes. Not that it would have mattered. The giant beast of a rat Marrow had told them the horde had been destroyed. She didn't have any reason to believe him. But why would one of the hordes best, a monster like Zidar, flee unless he was about to be slaughtered? Sathe begrudgingly began her careful descent down the side of the slippery bluff. As she shuffled carefully down the hill, she could only ask herself how could some lowly vermin rat be given such a premonition?
The sprinkling rain had grown to a drizzle as Sathe entered the makeshift camp. The vermin sat huddled underneath a great pine to shelter themselves from the rain. The weather had been stormy and wet ever since the clear night they had deserted.
"Were ya able to see anything?" Asked Bloodclaw, a young and arrogantly stupid fox asked.
"Nay. Clouds 've rolled in, can't see much of anything in this weather." Sathe sat by the damp fire hoping to warm herself before being further questioned.
Her respite didn't last long. "How long 'til we reach the river?" Questioned Muckfur. Sathe glared daggers at the weasel which was blending into the shadows of the oak he was leaning on.
"I said earlier it could be right over the hill or day's march out, I know we're close." She tried to sound confident, to keep the ruse alive, and to show that they couldn't get under her fur. It instead sounded like an insecure hiss.
Muckfur chuckled. "Are you sure you know where you're going, seer?"
"I can't tell where we are because of the weather, fool! We'll get there soon enough so keep yer trap shut until then!" Sathes voice was rising, she did not want to be questioned by the least of these vermin.
"Why don't you give us a little jig just like you did for the officers, maybe the rain will go away? I've heard yer quite good with it."
"Shut yar mouth ya filthy bottom dweller! Climb that hill and tell me if ya see the river you muckbrained weasel!" Sathe lept up, her calm and astute composure shattered. The worst of these vermin had to be Muckfur. He had been the one to retrieve her after the rest of them had left the camp. He slipped into her tent unnoticed and made her almost shriek in surprise. He had been laughing as he led her out of the camp, in her shock and embarrassment she had left behind most of her medicinals as well as some heavy clothes. Now she had to shiver in the cold and listen to Muckfur's jeering.
Muckfur smugly laughed and remained reclined against the tree. The other vermin had a hard time hiding their amusement as well which further spurned Sathe's anger.
Before Sathe could lash out at them Seabane interjected.
"We better find that river soon seer, we're all out of vittles." His commanding tone grated on Sathe's strained nerves.
"Keep moving that way, an we'll run into the river eventually." Sathe spat out as she pointed towards the hill she had returned from.
"It better be, or it'll be yar head."
"If we can't find food now what makes you think we can find food when we're farther south, with more woodlanders to deal with?"
"More woodlanders means more vittles, and there should be plenty for us with the right persuasion." Answered Crooksnout smugly thumbing his cockeyed nose at her.
Sathe didn't want to argue any further, especially with that fool, and set about warming herself before the fire. She had to find a river, or they would tear her apart.
Shortly after the vermin had broken camp, they began moving in a direction Sathe hoped was towards a river. As Sathe trudged along through the cold rain, she tried to think of a way out of the trap she had laid for herself. A few nights prior the ferret had claimed she knew the area they were traveling in.
"I know these woods like a mole knows the dirt." Sathe proudly proclaimed. "There's a river a short distance from here. Plenty of food we can hunt and forage for. Potentially have a place to rest for the winter."
"We need to get as far away from the horde, or what's left of it before some beast finds us or winter sets in." Said Seabane.
"Ye didn't give us any warning to prepare and now we're already running out of vittles. Plus, I don't have anything I need to help any of you fools if you get sick." Sathe spat back.
There was a low grumbling of discussion amongst the vermin.
"There's a small river to the west. You, Seabane can fish for us, and I can get the herbs and plants I need. There should even be some shrews the rest of ye can… acquire supplies from before we head south."
The murmuring amongst the vermin sounded much more positive this time.
After some discussion, Seabane reluctantly agreed and allowed Sathe to lead them to her river. Out of earshot of the other vermin, Sathe laughed to herself. They must be bigger fools than they look.
She had lied to them partially. The only truth in her claim was that she knew of the area. She had been in this area when she was a babe, just before joining the horde with her mother. She only remembered being cold and hungry then. She didn't know if there was a river, much less the shrews she promised they could attack. Although she would be surprised if there wasn't. To the other deserters, Sathe desperately needed to refill her medicinal pouch as it was getting far lighter than she would like. However, that was secondary. To Sathe, the real reason was to show these lowly vermin that she was still far superior than them. She was a seer, and the rest were lowly filth. Although Seabane's premonition had saved them, it would be Sathe's skill as a healer, and knowledge of the land that would keep them alive.
On the first day, Sathe proudly had led them but to no avail. When the storm clouds rolled in and the sky unleashed its fury, she quickly became lost. She continued to lead them with rumbles of disagreement. She soon knew that if she couldn't find the river soon, they might realize she had lied. She was worried that Seabane might have the white rat Marrow slay her. The monster hardly strayed more than a stone's throw from Seabane who had returned Marrow's hammer, to the dismay of the rest of the deserters. Seabane had used Marrow to intimidate the other vermin and Sathe was worried that he would make her the next example. Earlier in their journey, Seabane threatened Herrik that if he didn't shut his trap, he would have Marrow crush it. It worked and Herrik hadn't made a sound to anyone since then. Her discussion with Seabane that morning removed any doubt about what her failure would lead to.
After aimlessly traveling most of the day Silvertoung could go no further on her injured paw, and they decided to make camp. As the other vermin looked for dry tinder for a fire or went off to forage for something they could potentially make a meal out of, Sathe went to tend to Silvertoung.
Silvertoung had moved under a cluster of oaks whose remaining leaves protected her from the rain and trunks acted as a small barrier to the chilling wind. She held her youngest kit tightly to protect it from the chilling weather. To Sathe, it looked like Silvertoung was holding it to keep herself warm as well. Her two older kits lingered near their mother, play fighting with each other further exasperating a worn Silvertoung. Sathe snarled at the two older weasel kits to leave. They hesitated but then departed once they saw Bloodclaw, intending to pester him. Sathe kneeled to tend to Silvertoung, attempting to keep as much of herself dry as she could.
"You've bled through the bandages." Sathe said as she began to remove the dirty wrappings.
Silvertoung groaned as Sathe removed the bloody bandages and the wad of dry moss Sathe had applied earlier to stop the bleeding. The moss was dark red, and the bandages had taken the same color. Sathe cleaned the wound and rubbed the excess dirt away from its edges so she could see it clearly. It was a long straight cut on the bottom of her paw from where the big toe met the footpad all the way to the middle of the heel. Sathe thought she must have stepped on a sharp stone or root the night they had deserted. It was a deep cut to the bone in a few places. Fixing it was nothing out of Sathe's abilities. Normally she would have stitched the cut together and told Silvertoung that she needed a few days off her weary paws to not open the stitches, but the past few days had been anything but normal. Sathe couldn't stitch the cut back together as she didn't have the needles or twine to do so. She also didn't want to risk stitching the cut, as the hard travel through would have torn the stitches open and potentially make the wound worse. She glowered angrily at the pathetic creature that lay with her foot paw stretched in her face, she was running out of options and out of time. Silvertoung noticed and scowled back at her.
"What's the matter, seer?" Silvertoung spat.
"I can wrap the cut, but you'll just bleed through it. Ye need to stay off your paws."
Silvertoung laughed bitterly.
"I wish I could! Maybe ye wants to carry my kits, or better yet carry me all throughout Mossflower. I'm sure I'd heal up real quick then!"
Sathe kept her gaze on the weasel's injured foot. "Get yer mate to carry ya, bumbling oaf doesn't do much anyway. Or perhaps you could ask Marrow to carry you, it wouldn't be that hard for him."
"Keep that rat away from me." Sathe saw there was genuine fear in her eyes. She was still shaken up from their desertion and Marrow's arrival to the group. Sathe could understand why.
"No promises." Sathe smiled meanly. "Once we get to the river we'll settle down, hopefully for the rest of the winter, I can stitch your paw up then."
"We'd be at the river if ya knew where you were going... If there even is a river."
"I told you earlier there is. We'd be there already if you hadn't foolishly hurt yourself!" Sathe's temper was rising.
"If you would have left when the rest of us did, we wouldn't have that white monster following us! An I wouldn't have hurt my paw in the first place!"
"Even if I did, we would still be slowed down by your pathetic mate and your useless kits." Sathe could see that her insult had hit the mark.
Silvertoung snarled and thrust her injured foot paw into Sathe's nose sending her to her rear. "Watch what you say about my family ferret!"
Sathe scrambled upright and furiously cuffed the weasel across the face, then leaned in until she was a whisker length away from her.
"Don't be coy with me wench! I could kill you and your whelps while you sleep and even your stupid mate would think you just keeled over and died! You and your kin mean nothing to me, and I would slay you before a scream could leave your ugly mouth! Remember that weasel!" Sathe got up and stormed off while Silvertoung lay in shock.
Sathe was seething. How dare that lowly horde beast treat her with disrespect! Didn't she fear her or understand how important she was? Seabane had told her she was key to their survival. How dare that dirty cur kick her when she was trying to help. The rain fell all around her and the ground she walked on had turned into a murky sludge. Sathe was tired. Tired of being disrespected by everyone. Tired of being wet and hungry and cold. They had left the horde around five days ago, but it felt like she had been gone a whole season. Her stomach growled and her footpaws ached. She wished she was in the horde where she would have Silvertoung killed for striking her. Where she had a warm and dry tent to sleep in. She wished she was anywhere but with these vermin. Sathe looked up from her brooding and realized she had walked away from the camp. The rain had increased in strength and was pouring down all around her. She frantically whipped her head around and perked her ears intently searching for something that would lead her back to the camp. All she could hear was the sound of rain which had now turned into a downpour. Sathe stood helpless and scared. She had never been so utterly alone like this before without a beast within sight. She thought that she should cry out for help, and have some beast come find her. But her pride told her no. She would rather be lost than show the deserters she needed them. She started to backtrack her trail, but the rain had washed away her tracks. Sathe was becoming panicked as the rain showed no sign of stopping when she suddenly realized she was pathetically lost.
Sathe blindly wandered for what felt like hours. The rain hadn't stopped, and the sky was darkening to night. Drenched and cold her stubborn pride kept her from crying out and her fear of being alone drove her forward. Suddenly she paused. Amongst the pitter-patter of falling rain, she thought she heard far-off voices. There was something else too. Water, rushing water, a river! She lept in glee and raced towards the mysterious sounds, slipping down an incline and sliding on muck most of the way. She could see it! A swiftly flowing river, just over a bowshot wide. She smugly laughed to herself as she ran through the branches that whipped at her face. Stupid Silvertoung, if she would stop complaining about her paw, we could have made camp here hours ago! She couldn't wait to see the look on the weasel's face when she triumphantly led them to the promised river. Sathe cackled to herself. She was so much smarter than the rest of the horde beasts. That's why she was a seer after all. She grasped the amulet around her neck. It was given to all seers in the horde to separate them from the lesser vermin. But the voices! Where could the voices come from? Sathe stopped, crouched, and stalked down the river's edge. The rain was still falling, and the rushing river made it hard to hear beasts and other activities. She slowly inched forward paralleling the river. She made her way through the undergrowth, cautiously treading on the slick grass. She could smell the smoke from a fire and could see its light against the ever-darkening sky. She smelled fish being cooked and it made her mouth water. She was close enough to see the fire now and could hear the voices much clearer. There was a cauldron with something spicy boiling and fish skewered over the fire. Sathe was so hungry she couldn't even think, it had been so long since she had had a hot meal. Whoever was cooking wouldn't miss a fish or two she thought, she deserved it for having to lead Seabane, Silvertoung, and the rest of those fools for the past few days. She reached the edge of the trees and cautiously peered towards the light.
The riverbank widened tremendously. Sathe could see the fire and food were sheltered underneath a great fallen oak whose roots were still stuck in the cliffside that jutted upward to her right. The peak of the tree rested in the river to her left; its branches stuck out like thorns. Sathe stepped out of the cover of the undergrowth and slowly made her way towards the fire. The hood of her cloak had been pulled down completely showing her masked face. Not that she cared. Food was the only thing she could think about. She slowly made her way towards the fire, only thinking of its warmth and the vittles prepared for her. Her hands were reaching out before her and her mouth was open, saliva dripping down her cheek. She had stepped into the light of the fire. The grilled fish, bubbling stew, and flasks of warm wine were all hers! She relished the feeling of success, but only for a moment.
"Vermin!" Sathe heard a squeak to her left. She forgot about the food and turned. A small shrew stood staring up at her with wide eyes. Beyond the young shrew two score of otters and shrews who had been pulling their logboats to shore, turned her way.
Every beast paused for a moment. Sathe was the first to react, she whipped around and sprinted away from the fire, while shouts of anger and calls to arms rang out behind her. She ran back the way she came paralleling the river whose calm current had turned into a roar. Branches assaulted her face partially blinding her while her ears were filled with a deadening thudding from the steps of her pursuers. Sathe cursed herself for being such a fool. Of course, it was the woodlanders, why must they ruin everything! A stone nicked her ear and smashed into the tree in front of her. She weaved in and out of the trees howling in pain. She prayed that the woodlanders had as poor aim as the horde beasts claimed they did. Remembering the aftermath of the skirmishes she realized that wasn't often the case. She ducked under a low-hanging limb and remembered the damage an otter's javelin could do as one splintered into the limb she had just avoided. Sathe sharply turned and clambered up the muddy incline that led down to the river's edge. In her rush she slipped face-first into the mud, narrowly avoiding an arrow with her name on it. She heard a curse from a beast not far behind her and frantically scrambled up the rest of the incline on all fours. Once at the top she bolted as fast as she could away from the river she worked so hard to find. With her heart in her throat and tears streaming from her eyes she fled blindly into the night.