Chapter Two

Docks of Mossvold

Southwest Coast, just outside Mossflower's borders

That same night

Verang the Vile stood in front of a large mirror in the stateroom of his ship, the Black Swallow, glaring critically at his reflection. His single yellow eye was bloodshot and tearing up from staring so hard. He reached up with a paw, tenderly touching the now-healed pink scarring around the empty socket where his right eye used to be, where the fur would never grow back. He could see Marshfoot and Clamjaw reflected in the mirror, standing behind him, leaning against the opposite wall.

Without looking away, he snapped an order. "Marshfoot, hand me that patch on the table!"

Marshfoot moved quickly to do his master's bidding, not hesitating a moment. The warlord was in a foul mood.

Clamjaw approached the stoat slowly and stopped just behind him, crossing his arms. "You sure about this?"

Verang flipped around, making Clamjaw jump in surprise. The stoat bared his teeth in a snarl. "I'm not giving up! I'm gonna find that mouse, even if it takes me the rest of my life!"

Clamjaw raised his paws up defensively. "I was just asking." He replied slowly.

The Vile One snorted and snatched the eye patch out of Marshfoot's paws and turned back to the mirror. "It will just cause problems if I approach Stoneclaw myself with this. That's why I'm sending you instead."

The rat captain sighed. "And what if Stoneclaw refuses to take the job?"

Verang tied the straps of the eyepatch and dropped his paws to his sides, turning his head back and forth, his single eye fixated on the mirror. "He won't refuse, Clamjaw. Not when you show him those gems."

"This is the worst place to bring gems into. Wouldn't it be easier to send an invite and have him come here?" Clamjaw wasn't wrong. Mossvold was a vermin-occupied village by the sea, filled with all kinds of villainous rabble that would steal you blind before murdering you.

"Then keep it hidden in your tunic and take a few of the lads wit' ye if you feel like you need protection!" Verang snarled impatiently.

Clamjaw shook his head, stuffing the sack of gems into his shirt to appease the livid stoat. "Y'know, you've been in a rotten mood ever since that mousemaid took your eyeball." The rat raised an eyebrow. "And I'm saying that as your friend, not your captain."

Verang snorted in disgust. "You would be too if ye only had one eye to see out of! Now get going before I run ye through with my sword, friend or not!"

Clamjaw rolled his eyes and headed for the stateroom doors, grabbing his cloak off the hooks in the wall next to them. It was wickedly cold outdoors, especially on the seaside. He turned back to Verang, shaking his head ruefully when he saw the stoat was back in front of the mirror. "Any special message you want me to add?" He asked teasingly, thinking it might lighten his mood.

Verang twisted around and tossed a dagger at him. It hit the wall behind Clamjaw with a thud. Clamjaw stared wide-eyed at the quivering dagger and then back at Verang in disbelief. The Vile One crossed his arms. "Get going, Clamjaw! Or next time I won't miss intentionally!"

Clamjaw shivered as an icy wind whipped through his cloak, not at all eager to leave the ship. Standing on the quarterdeck, he stared out at the seaside village of Mossvold, yellow lights coming from the many taverns that lined along the docks, glowing dimly in the darkness, the sounds of laughter and music resonated from them. He heaved an irritated sigh, attracting the attention of his steersrat. "Who ye takin' ashore wit' ye, Cap'n?" He asked nervously.

Clamjaw raised an eyebrow. "Don't know yet. I was thinking about takin' you but you act like you don't want to. You don't want a good drink and a pretty tavernmaid sittin' on yer lap?"

"Don't get me wrong Cap'n, I'd love to but... I don' want me hide ripped off by that mercenary's claws if somethin' were to 'appen."

Clamjaw grinned in amusement, shaking his head. "Stoneclaw is harmless. Unless you anger or annoy him."

"Right. And ye don't think the Vile One's proposition won't piss 'im off?"

Clamjaw sniffed. "That's why I'll be doing all the talkin'. I just need some back up in case I get in t'trouble."

The steersrat frowned doubtfully. "If its all the same t'you Cap'n. I'll stay 'ere wit' the ship." He put his paws on the wheel as if to emphasize his point. Clamjaw heaved another irritated sigh and leaned on the railing, overlooking the main deck. Only a few of the crew remained with the vessel to guard it. The rest had gone into Mossvold to drink and gamble in the taverns.

Seeing the weasel brothers Foultooth and Tac sitting near the prow playing cards over an upturned barrel, he smiled to himself, having found the right pair gullible enough to come along.

He walked down the stairs and crossed the deck over to them.

"Tis yer turn." Foultooth spat on the floor and stared over his cards at Tac. The one-eared weasel was looking down at his stack thoughtfully, pursing his lips.

Foultooth shook his head impatiently. "Any day now, Tac."

Tac shot him a glare. "Jus' a minute, lard belly."

Foultooth grit his teeth and narrowed his eyes. Over the last few seasons, he had gained quite a bit of weight and was a little sensitive about it. "What'd ja call me?"

Tac glanced at him. "Lard belly."

Foultooth set his cards down on the barrel top. "Yer one t'talk. You only got one lug!"

Tac raised an eyebrow. "Wot's that got t'do wit' yer big, fat belly?"

Foultooth leaped to his feet and shook his fist. "Why I oughta-

"Good evening."

The weasels looked up and saw Clamjaw standing nearby with an amused smirk on his face.

Foultooth grinned, trying to act like nothing was happening between them. "Cap'n. Yer jus' in time. Wanna join our game?"

Clamjaw shook his head. "Maybe some other time. I got some business on land to attend to for His Lordship, but I need a couple volunteers to accompany me. So, I thought you two would like to get off the ship for a while."

The weasels shared an uneasy glance. They had been listening against the stateroom doors and had heard where Verang was sending Clamjaw to.

Clamjaw crossed his arms, picking up on the weasels' nervous behavior. "Don't tell me you two are afraid?" He asked soothingly. He already knew they had been at the doors listening, having caught their scent as he exited the stateroom.

"We ain't afraid!" Tac glared at him. Foultooth threw his cards at him, giving him a warning glance before turning back to Clamjaw with a nod. "Course Cap'n."

The big rat nodded his head. "I'll be waiting on the dock." He turned around and headed for the ramp leading off the ship.

Tac stood up and groaned. "Why'd ye go an' volunteer us, fer?"

Foultooth clenched a fist and popped his brother on the top of his head, making him grunt in pain. "He knew we was eavesdroppin', ye moron. If I had refused, he'd tell the Vile One on us."

Tac rubbed his sore head, snorting doubtfully.

Stoneclaw was a red fox with a bad reputation and a renowned mean streak. His exploits were well known among vermin. He was the go to mercenary if a scheming warlord wanted a rival or a sworn enemy dead. For many seasons, he carried out this line of work, earning a large client list. Many of whom feared to cross him. He kept a small band of twenty foxes at his side, each highly skilled and just as deadly as he was.

What made him the most dangerous was the stone caps he placed over his natural claws, filing the tips to a deadly curve. They also gave him his name. Many had succumbed to fatal wounds because of those claws.

Stoneclaw sat in the darkened corner of one of the taverns, watching through hooded eyes as vermin all around him gambled and drank seaweed grog and kelp beer to their hearts' content. Female vermin moved between the tables, serving drinks or keeping their patrons entertained. Two of his foxes sat on either side of him, each with his own tankard of grog.

His sharp eyes missed nothing.

Clamjaw stood outside the entry way into Stoneclaw's tavern and turned to the two weasels. "Keep yer wits about ye and your mouths shut. Got it?"

The brothers nodded their heads. Satisfied, Clamjaw led the way inside.

Stoneclaw's eyes darted to the doorway where three beasts shoved their way through the crowd towards him.

Recognizing the big rat, followed by a pair of weasels, he grinned widely. "Well, well." He chuckled as Clamjaw stopped in front of his table. "If it isn't one of the Vile One's stooges." Stoneclaw grabbed his tankard and raised an eyebrow. "He didn't want to send the ugly one or come himself, huh? Instead, he sends his second-in-command." He leaned back in his chair. "This must be a formal visit if he sent you." He raised the tankard to his lips, his eyes still trained on Clamjaw.

Clamjaw returned the grin. "I'm more pleasant to look at... and better to make deals with." He added hastily.

Intrigued, Stoneclaw set his tankard down and leaned forward. "And what load of fishguts has Verang forced you to bring to me that he couldn't bring himself?" He gestured for Clamjaw to take a seat which the rat accepted.

The captain shrugged his broad shoulders and reached into his tunic. "My Lord sends his apologies."

"Aw." The fox's tone was mockingly sympathetic. "His empire building isn't going so well?"

His two companions chuckled, their white teeth flashing in the dim lantern light.

Stoneclaw laughed, leaning back in his chair. "He's the worst conqueror I've ever seen. What's his target this time, rat?"

Clamjaw tossed a folded piece of paper in front of him. "This is for you." He leaned back casually in his chair. "If you must know, he's already conquered his target. We're sailing back to the Kamwian Islands as soon as we finish stocking up on supplies."

Stoneclaw unfolded the paper, shooting a quick glance at him. "Kamwe, huh? Fancies himself an island dweller, does he?" He looked down at the paper and shrugged. "That's if he c'n get one footpaw on the shore without gettin' skewered by one of their spears."

Clamjaw snorted scornfully. "There's no worry about that anymore. Once their king went down, they surrendered pretty quickly."

Surprised, Stoneclaw was about to reply when a slender vixen walked up to the table, training her emerald eyes on Clamjaw.

"Stoneclaw, you didn't tell me you had a guest?" Her voice was husky and smooth, fitting for a tavern maid.

Stoneclaw glanced at her before looking back down at the paper. "Order what ye want, rat. Its on the house."

Clamjaw gave the vixen a small smile. "I'm fine, thank you."

"Hmm. A rat with manners." She sat down on Stoneclaw's lap, fluffing her elegant tail. "And not bad-looking either." She gave him a wink which made Clamjaw blush. He recognized her right away. Her name was Sherza and she was just as deadly in weaponry as Stoneclaw was, occasionally accompanying the band of mercenaries when needed for her healing skills.

Stoneclaw rolled his eyes and tapped her shoulder. "Stop flirting with Clamjaw, love. He's one of Verang's lot."

Sherza turned her head and looked him up and down. "Jealous, are we?" She tousled the fur on his head and began reading the paper in Stoneclaw's paws.

Stoneclaw slammed the paper down on the table and stared severely at Clamjaw. "Yer kiddin' me, right?"

Clamjaw shrugged. He knew what the note said. He was prepared to defend Verang's request, even though he thought it was ridiculous himself.

The fox broke out into a grin. "He's wasted all his time searching for a mouse?" He laughed. "Has he finally lost his mind?"

Clamjaw shrugged again. "He's hired just about everybeast but you. He said you're the best."

Stoneclaw laughed even harder, causing the room to go quiet. Everybeast in the crowded tavern all turned to stare at him.

"Oh this is too rich!" Stoneclaw cried, midlaughter. "The Vile One is hunting a puny mouse!"

The room exploded into laughter. Standing behind Clamjaw's chair, Foultooth and Tac couldn't help but join in with them.

Clamjaw rolled his eyes and impatiently tapped his claws on the table until the laughter subsided enough he could get a word in edgewise. He stared evenly at Stoneclaw, done with conversational banter. "This "puny" mouse killed Badrang the Tyrant."

Stoneclaw stopped laughing and stared at the rat, his face blank as if trying to comprehend what the rat had just said.

Clamjaw raised an eyebrow. "Well?" He watched him and Sherza exchange looks.

It was a few moments before Stoneclaw spoke. "Sorry for wastin' yer time, Captain. But I'm sure there's others foolish enough to put up with this nonsense." He folded up Verang's note and threw it back across the table at him. Looking around the room, he glared at the vermin still watching them. "What are you lookin' at?" He snarled threateningly.

The tavern returned to its normal routine and noise level.

Clamjaw reached into his tunic and pulled out the pouch with the gems. "Verang's tried just about everyone he could think of. He wants you to take the job, Stoneclaw. He says if you accepted this," he tossed the pouch on the table in front of the four foxes. "To come over to the ship for a drink and he'll explain the details."

Stoneclaw narrowed his eyes suspiciously, motioning for Sherza to open it. Picking it up, she pulled the strings and looked inside. She jerked her head up, her eyes wide in surprise. Stoneclaw took it from her and silently stared at the gems before looking up at Clamjaw, a wicked smile crossing his lips. "Alright my friend... I'll come see what yer boss has in mind."

When Clamjaw and the weasels exited the tavern, they left the fox leaning back in his chair with his footpaws resting on the table, his dark eyes had a thoughtful look in them. Sherza had pulled up a stool and sat down next to him, mentally counting out the gems.

Greyfur, one of the foxes sitting at the table with them, snorted doubtfully. "I wouldn't take this job, Stoneclaw. Especially from Verang." He said scornfully, taking a swig of grog.

Stoneclaw admired a gem in the torchlight. "He's willing to pay handsomely for our services." He gave Sherza a wink. "I'm not complaining."

Greyfur raised an eyebrow, uneasy about the whole thing. "What happened to retiring?"

Stoneclaw frowned. "If we take this job, we'll live comfortably for the rest of our lives. Isn't that what you want, Greyfur?"

"I don't like it, Stoneclaw." Greyfur stood up, sharing a glance with the fox across from him. "Not one bit."

Stoneclaw chuckled and stood up as well, extending his arms above his head in a stretch. "Well," he gathered up his belt and weapons. "If yer up for it, I'm gonna go pay the Vile One a visit. I'm quite interested in what he has to say about this mouse."

Clamjaw was surprised to see Verang leaning over the starboard side waiting for him. He had thought he'd still be standing in front of the mirror in the stateroom, fussing over his appearance.

"Well? Did he take it?" Verang called down to him as Clamjaw stepped onto the ramp leading up to the ship from the dock.

"He took it."

The Vile One grinned. "Stoneclaw will find him. I'm sure of it."

Clamjaw gave him a knowing stare. "That's what you said about the last one you hired... and the one before that."

Verang chuckled. "Just shows how persistent I am."

Clamjaw folded his arms against the chill night breeze coming off the sea. "I will admit though, Verang, he thought it was a riot at first. He almost didn't take you seriously."

Verang narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "What do ye mean?"

"Well... its not every day a warlord hires a mercenary to find a mouse."

The Vile One snorted. "What else did 'e tell you?" The stoat suddenly flinched in surprise when something whistled past his ear. A hard thunk sounded behind him. He and Clamjaw turned and saw a dagger with a jagged blade imbedded in the mast. They turned and saw Stoneclaw, along with his two cohorts beside the ramp. The fox had heard them talking.

Feeling something warm run down his cheek, Verang reached up and touched his stinging ear. He dropped his paw, staring down at his bloodied claws.

Stoneclaw's dagger had nicked his ear.

The Vile One chuckled in amusement and looked up at the smirking fox. "I was hoping you'd come see me."

Stoneclaw chuckled, shaking his head. "What's this all about, stoat? You want me to track down a mouse for you? Have you lost your marbles?"

"I'm serious about this one. As ridiculous as it sounds."

The fox approached him slowly, keeping a paw near his belt. "From what little I learned from Clamjaw," He stopped a few tail lengths in front of Verang. "You want justice for yer dear old dad, do ye?"

The Vile One narrowed his eyes. "Come in to my quarters and I'll explain."

Stoneclaw frowned suspiciously, wrapping his paw around the hilt of a second dagger on his belt. "This ain't a trick, is it?"

"No," Verang shook his head, smiling a little. "Just a friendly chat between two acquaintances." He glared at the two foxes that had accompanied Stoneclaw, making it clear they were to stay outside.

Stoneclaw chuckled dryly. "I wouldn't even call us that." He glanced behind him at his companions, giving them a nod before turning back to Verang. "Alright stoat, shall we?" He gestured towards the doors.

Verang turned around and led the way to the stateroom, keeping a paw on one of his own daggers... just in case.

Stoneclaw went in first, looking around the furnished room in admiration. "You decorate quite well, don't ye Vile One?"

Ignoring him, Verang shut the doors and walked over to his desk.

Stoneclaw sat down in the chair across the desk from Verang. "Alright, lets get down t'business. I know your target is a mouse but I'm hoping you have more details for me to go off of then that."

Verang leaned forward in his chair. "This mouse I'm looking for, his name is Martin the Warrior." The stoat raised an eyebrow. "Does that name ring a bell?"

The fox shook his head. "Nope. Not a ring."

"I've hired many beasts in the last several seasons to track down his whereabouts for me and not one of them has succeeded. I know you're more of a hired killer but I figured if anyone can find him, you can."

"You got an idea where he might be?"

"The only thing I could learn from Clogg was that he's in a place called Noonvale."

Stoneclaw snorted in disbelief. "Clogg? You mean, Tramun Clogg?" He broke out into laughter. "Hahahar!"

The Vile One grit his teeth, annoyed. "He's the only Clogg we both know about!" He snapped.

Stoneclaw wiped his watering eyes, having not laughed so much like he had tonight. "Oh Vile One, you've made my night." He heaved a breath. "Alright, so was Clogg yer witness to this accusation? I still don't see what's so special about this Martin the Warrior that he was able to take down Badrang."

"I couldn't say, only that Clogg was adamant it was him. And I aim to kill him for it." As he said this, Marshfoot entered the room with a tray. A big bottle and two glasses rested on it. He placed it on the desk in front of them, popping the cork and pouring the fizzing, bubbly orange liquid into each glass. He set it down and hurried out of the room, closing the door behind him.

Stoneclaw shook his head as Verang reached for his glass and took a sip. "You really have lost yer mind."

Verang slammed his glass down, breaking it, spilling the orange liquid all over the desk. "Look here. I'm willing to pay any amount to get my paws on that mouse. I have a score to settle and yer gonna help me do it!"

Stoneclaw leaned back in his chair, his eyes still fixed on the enraged stoat. "You have any more clues to back up Clogg's story?" The fox shook his head, not sure what to believe. "Was Clogg in his right mind when he told you all this?"

Verang snarled. "Noonvale, Stoneclaw. Have you heard of Noonvale?"

The fox scratched his head thoughtfully. He was conflicted about the vague facts he was given. The payment was more then he had ever received for any killing but there was the challenge of finding the target. He reached for his glass and stirred the orange liquid with a claw tip. "I haven't heard of Noonvale but I will see what I can find around the Marshank area. I might be able to get some useful information out of the local beasts."

Verang broke out into a wide grin. "Then its settled."

"Aye." Stoneclaw raised his glass before putting it to his lips and taking a sip. The strong citrus flavor and fizz went up his nose and he coughed. "You get this from Kamwe?" He asked hoarsely as the liquid stung his throat.

The Vile One chuckled. "Strong isn't it? Has all the flavors of the tropics in it. Makes ye wish you were there now, sittin' on the beach, basking in the sun instead of sailing around in this cold miserable hell."

Stoneclaw chuckled. "Clamjaw told me you overthrew their king and butchered him." He grinned. "Is that how you lost your eye?"

Verang frowned indignantly. "That's none of your business!" He snapped, making Stoneclaw chuckle. Exasperated, Verang stood up and leaned over the desk. "I'm a little busy with other affairs in Kamwe right now. That's why I need help over here on the mainland to find Martin."

Stoneclaw took another swallow of the citrusy wine. "I see." But his curiosity wasn't satisfied. The Vile One was clearly bothered by whoever gouged his eye out.

"I will send my messenger seagulls to follow up on the search. I want every single detail."

Stoneclaw nodded. "Sounds like a plan. And what do I do if I find a trace of him?"

"If you find Noonvale, you'll find Martin. But don't do anything yet until I get there. I want you to wait at Fort Marshank until I arrive with my horde. Then we will take Noonvale together." He held out a paw.

Stoneclaw grinned and grasped it firmly. The two vermin shook on it. The fox tried to pull his paw away but the Vile One tightened his grip. "Not so fast. You're going to sign a written agreement. A simple pawshake isn't binding."

The fox raised an eyebrow and smirked. "You're a cautious beast, aren't ye, Vile One?"

Without a reply, Verang let go of his paw and slid a piece of paper across the desk to him, eyeing him suspiciously.

With Clamjaw and Greyfur as witnesses, the two vermin signed their names at the bottom of the page, underneath a paragraph detailing their temporary partnership.

Stoneclaw set down the quill pen and raised his half empty glass. "Here's to finding the Tyrant's killer, stoat."