Chapter 26: Infernal Return

On the open ocean, the small navy of ships of Sagan and Barbo were floating to safety from the main flotilla of woodlanders. Sagan kept an eye behind him from time to time, wondering if the Flotilla would turn to try to give chase. Barbo had his eyes set upon some Green Isle ship, a fairly large one in fact, but his ship rammed into a different ship entirely which swooped in to take the blow instead. Sagan wondered to himself why the woodlanders did not give chase at least, they certainly had the numbers. Although he was confident he and Barbo could get away, damage to Penolpe's ships during her brief, reckless shrew captain Shren had given him slight worry. The smaller vessel felt towed behind the group, and Barbo purposefully lowered sails and eased his rowers to allow her to catch up. If the Mountain of the Sea was seen in the distance, Sagan would have had the fight of his life on his paws. Yet, instead there was a stillness.

Sagan didn't need to wonder why for very long, as the ship bursted through a thick mist, and on the other side, a vast fleet was in their way. Sagan could barely believe his eyes as his first mate climbed to the upper command deck to shout at him. "Sagan! Look be there! Looks like Gashan brought a whole flippen fleet, the sea hag!" Brea said in amazement. Sagan looked all around at the vast flotilla which began to swirl around them. Many large and small vessels could be seen for what felt like miles, with pirate vessels guarding transports from what looked to come from all across the sea. It was a vast pirate fleet, what looked to be over a hundred ships or so, some led by pirates and infamous sea raiders Sagan knew.

"Aye! I see em'! Ya see any of Carch's ships?"

"Nay! I don't see the Tempist anywhere. Not surprised doh." Sagan wasn't surprised either, his attention was now on the sea in front of him. The ships were whirling around them, avoiding the three ships moving through them. They were not hostile it seemed, as Sagan's black flag likely was assumed to be friendly to the various ships. As they passed by the deluge of various vessels, their green sails acting like a mirage to blind the horizon, Sagan could notice many things. He'd turn to see a group of wildcats lined up in a formation on one transport ship, and a group of rats on another. Some stared at his ship, unsure if he was an enemy or not.

Once Sagan and his friendly ships were finally free of the massive flotilla, Brea came close to him "A shame, cap'n. I think dem ships are gonna steal the ol' Mountain of the Sea I bets."

"Nay, I am confident the badger be getten away, but not to worry, we know where she be parking at least. The only real shame is that we came close to taken her. Yet, I am just happy we'd survived the long ears and der ogre smellen masters! How are our casualties? Klaus must be busy down belows I bet."

Brea was silent, which made Sagan turn to her in concern. "Cap'n, bad news I am afraid. The attack was draining on the crew. A lot are dead, or cripple."

"How many. Numbers, me love."

"Half, love. Half."

Sagan let out a sigh in disbelief, but he supposed it was to be suspected. The fighting had been fierce, with Barbo's lizards and corsairs on one side, and his crew on the other. No doubt they had done a great deal of damage to the hares themselves, but to lose half his crew? It was unthinkable.

"How many be cripple? Half I suppose?"

"Nay. Klaus says he can fit some new legs an' eyes, but two had to get arms amputated."

"An' Tarlo?" Sagan said, with some concern to his voice.

"The Wildcat prince be doin fine, he is sleepen off some sore wounds below. Likely be passen out I bets."

"Well, at least he be alive. His pets tho?"

Peckers, Tarlo's friendly gull gave a loud screaming laugh above Sagan, dignifying the pirate with it's presence. Brea could only shrug "Don't see der rat or his slave, likely be on Barbo's ship no doubt. I don't think he be fair either it looks like, although if I know Barbo. . ."

"Nay, no reason to think on dat old geazer. So long he be liven." Sagan continued to look forward, but his signaler was quickly running up the stairs to his command deck, huffing and puffing. Brea scolded him "Stop yer huffen an' puffen, ya layabout. Whats der meaning of this?"

"Cap'n! Message from the Holy Reckoning. Barbo means to parlay wit us."

Sagan nodded "Tell what crew we's got left to lower sails, and slow dis ship to a crawl! Lets go see what Barbo wants!"
_

When the two ships, the Black Sea Plow and The Holy Reckoning were beside one another, Sagan lowered a net for Barbo and his corsairs to come aboard. Sagan awaited patiently on the deck, wondering what Barbo even wanted as his crew helped their allied corsair brethren onto his deck. Some looked very much injured, but Sagan was surprised to see Penolpe and her new servant come aboard first. Sagan was about to raise his voice to question the corsairess, but then saw the sea otter slave was hauling another over his back without much difficulty. Gapper huffed as he pulled a barely conscious rat aboard, who Sagan immediately recognized as Grof.

Grof was breathing shallowly, his snout and nose bent backwards into his face as if flattened, with his jaw looking broken and skewed. He moaned in considerable pain, especially as Gapper hauled him onto Sagan's deck. Sagan had an immediate reaction and called out "Klaus! Klaus! We got an' emergency!" The glasses wearing weasel came quickly to Sagan's call and looked down in horror at Grof. Grof was barely conscious, but was conscious enough to know when he saw the weasel. He partly panicked, but was too weak to fight back as Klaus looked down and began to examine him.

Barbo came up next, followed by a large cadre of fellow vermin and Tarlo's servant Morland. Morland looked shocked, more mortified than usual as Barbo seemed rather happy with himself, smiling like a giddy child. Klaus looked to Gapper and Morland and shouted at them "Youz two! Helpz me get zit rat below deck! Quickly! Schynel!" The two obeyed quickly as Klaus rushed Grof below deck.

"Quite a rat, didn't think he'd survive the trip up here to be honest." Penolpe commented, a bit surprised. Sagan nodded "Aye, marines like em be a different breed entirely. However, why yer father looking so gitty dis evenen? I lost a sizable chunk of me crew. . ."

The stout maid cut him off, a sadness to her voice "We lost a sizable part of our crews as well, and injuries abound. Did not know shrews could fight so viciously, practically chased me back to my ship. I always knew Shren was an annoyance, but to fight him? Not a fun experience, I must say."

"Den why yer father be so gitty den?"

Barbo came over to answer him, shaking himself off and fixing his turban and cape. "Oh my sweet Sagan, you lack most critical information! I am bringing a nice gaggle of friends aboard who should be arriving right now! A show and tell you could say, although I fear you have nothing but scars and corpses to show."

Sagan grunted at the comment but looked over to where Barbo's cadre were coming from. Coming over the deck, he could see a lizard pulling a chain lead, and following it was a frightened and fairly young sea otter sailor who looked terrified. Then another one. And another. Sagan was slightly amused "Alright, but ya aren't gitty about a bunch of inexperienced sea dogs, mate. Let me guess, ya got a captain of dat ship ya rammed?"

"Yes."

"And? Was this one important?" Barbo gave a childish nod of approval. Sagan was unsure of what to think as he squinted his eyes at the miserable creatures being poured onto his deck. He could hear yelling of one in particular, shoving, and snarling.

"Do go on, guess. You have so little time!" Sagan playfully whimsied.

"A Skipper?"

"Nope."

"A. . .wife of a skipper?"

"Nada."

"Oh for the sea's sake. The bloody king of Green Isle?!" Sagan said annoyed, jesting to Barbo he had no enjoyment in his games. Yet there was a pause, which made Sagan immediately suspicious as he replied "C-close." Sagan looked to see two corsairs struggling to get a hold of one of the last creatures chained to the other prisoners. He, like the others, looked young and inexperienced for a sailor. Yet, he had a specific shine to him, he wore a dark green cloak, his tunic was fine and made of silk. He looked like a meager royal, with one corsair prying off a silver ring from his finger and pocketing it. The sea otter snapped his jaws at him, which was rewarded with a harsh thud on his head from the other corsair trying to contain him.

"I'll have ya all killed, ya hear me! I ain't goin down without a fight, you flea bitten wretches! Get off of me! Get off!" Sagan didn't recogonize him at first, not sure who he was. Yet he could only guess one possible creature, a son of Sarlo Wildlough himself. The young prince angrily tried to free himself, calling out in desperation to his sailors "We'd rather die than live as your prisoners, monsters! Fight a warrior of Green Isle properly! Cowards! Wretches!"

The other otters dared no move, especially with their armed overseers so closeby. Canton Wildlough found himself being dragged in front of Barbo and forced to kneel. Barbo clasped his paws as if he was staring at a delicious pie, as Canton looked up in rage at his captor "Wretch! I'll avenge me father's eye and throw ya' black soul down to hell itself!" Barbo leaned close to Canton and gave a rather loud whisper to him, making sure he heard it well and clearly. "My dear lad, you are already in hell, you just do not have the critical knowledge to see it."

Canton shivered but still tried to claw and bite at him, but was held back. Barbo lifted his head and chuckled to himself, making his way over to Sagan in a playful mood. Sagan looked on impressed "Quiet a catch me mate, ya gonna add him to ye' rowers?"

"Oh. Oh yes, most assuredly, although choosing which one he will replace is always the hardest decision I must say."

Sagan only gave a weak shrug "Yer decision mate, but what about this lot?" Sagan motioned to the other sea otters, looking with anticipation at Barbo and Sagan. Barbo gave another, much louder, chuckle. "My dear Sagan, you must have some imagination! When you see prisoners, you must see actors instead! I was thinking of making a nice play for me lads, to boost the mood after our bout with th badgers. I say the crew quite needs some entertainment."

"Yer entertainment be quite bloody usually, Barbo." Sagan thought to himself "But, if ye promise not to make be swabbers sick wit yer 'plays', den I'll allow it. I sure need a rest wit everyone else."

Canton interjected, yelling loudly "We won't be your captives, you monstrous vermin! We will fight and die as free otters of Green isle! Eeeeee A-" Canton was cut off by a beat down by one of the vermin. None of the sailors joined him, far too frightened at the presence of Barbo, the monster who once challenged their king. And won.

Barbo stepped forward in amusement to the fallen prince, slowly getting up after the small beating by his new found guards. Barbo did not give him time to rest, lightly but firmly grabbing the collar of the prince's shirt and pulled him up to his feet. Canton looked dead into Barbo's eyes, the stout's normally playful and artistic expression evaporated into a grim fixture, scanning him. Canton tried to look brave to his fellow otters, but in truth he was frightened of what Barbo would do to him. It showed in his expression, his growling face was fading as the stout gave a slow smile in turn.

"A little game before our festivities, perhaps." Barbo grunted, turning Canton around to face the other captive sailors. Canton looked at their frightened expressions, their inexperience showing. Of the only few older otters, most were fishers at best who were conscripted by his father into their navy. They all came from different clans, but united they all shriveled at the sight of the vermin arch pirates.

Barbo looked them over and spoke in his loud and boisterous voice, keeping Canton close "Now my dear prince, Canton I think? You are certainly not Gorgland, I know that for certain. I cannot, and do believe me with sincere apology, let you go. It's just unreasonable to release you from my captivity or from the prison of life. However, these poor souls you brought to my home, my faithful Holy Reckoning is quite full of rowers, and with mouths to feed I had just planned a series of nice and entertaining games for my friends, crew, and allies. However, I do yet hear your most prestigious concerns, as you wish them free. I could just throw them overboard, but that would be quite cruel, to die in the ocean from exhaustion or sharks. If anything, despite the tales, I am not as cruel as you think I am. So in turn, I will make you a choice. I can free them, a quick and sudden sheathing of blades, a lopping of head, and spilling of various meats onto the grounds of this nice ship and then. . .plopped right into the ocean! Or! I will keep them in servitude till their dying days, living under my whip and crop till they break just as so many did before, but yet they will live. Maybe not very long, and in utter contempt of you and me, but they will be breathing!"

Canton gave Barbo a look as if he was about to kill him, and he may as well have. He returned his gaze to the young crew, hearing the vile choice spun by their captor. They were terrified, shaking with indecision. None of them wished to die such a brutal death at the paws of the pirates, nor live short and miserable lives under their whips either. Canton could not make such a choice, and he was shaking with indecision.

"Tick tock, young prince." Barbo waved one of the fingers of his paw in front of him "I have so little time and patience for indecision, especially from those who profess what is best for their people. Tick tock."

Sagan and his other pirates looked on amused in morbid fascination. Canton felt like shriveling up, looking for a way out of this. He croaked as Barbo kept jabbing him and mocking him.

"I-you-" Canton began, but Barbo cut him off "You have moments, my good Canton. Moments."

With tears in his eyes, Canton made his choice. "F-free them." He barely could speak up, looking away. Barbo was disappointed but he shrugged and called out "You heard the prince my crew! Free them of course." Barbo drew his sabre but before he could strike a blow along with his bloodthirsty corsairs, there was a loud tap on the deck. Barbo turned to see Tarlo Greeneyes standing there, one of his paws in a sling and bandaged. Tarlo was a little worse for ware, but he was still as fast and nimble as ever, and called out "Stay your paw, Barbo Senger. No more bloodshed is needed this day."

Barbo stayed his paws, and his pirates did the same. Canton and the other otters, most trying to shield themselves or whimpered as they prepared for death, turned to look at Tarlo. Trident in paw, Tarlo came over to his comrades and spoke to them "Barbo, as much as you enjoy your games, I would ask you to spare these otters for the time being. My father and mother, rightful rulers of Green Isle, demand their slaves be kept free from harm unless disobedient. Their rightful place is at Sandbeach and in the care of my people."

Barbo lifted an eyebrow to Tarlo but gave a weak nod "I am sure they are, but please my good Tarlo. I do not wish to pry, but these otters are just as much my propert-"

"Then in that case, in the name of my father I will buy them off you, and you can name any price at port."

Barbo did not like to be interrupted, ready to angrily yell at Tarlo, but his greed overcame him. He put his paw to his chin for a moment and thought "Alright, I can work with that. However, the Prince is coming with me."

"Barbo, as much as you deserve much for the enemy's capture, I would prefer this prisoner to be in my father's care. He is the son of our mortal enemy of Green Isle, and my mother deserves any and all prisoners of such magnitude. You may keep him, but he is remain alive and preferably untouched until we get to Sandbeach. I am tired, good stout, and I do not wish to argue for long." He turned to Sagan "Can your ship get lodgings for these prisoners, Captain Sagan?"

Sagan nodded "Aye, I got plenty of room in my brig fer dis lot."

"Good. Please, see to it when you find the time."

The otters were unsure of what to make of Tarlo or his strange demands, many angrily looked at him as they were dragged below. Their lives secured for now, but how much they would come to regret Tarlo's decision would come far later, when they reached Sandbeach itself.
_

Grof continued to fade in and out of consciousness, seeing so little he could only experience the slightness of pain and sound. His eye sight failed him, and the sound of battle died into a stillness. He could only remember a sea otter angrily looking over him, him carrying the damaged rat over his shoulder. He heard Sagan, Barbo, and others. He could feel himself being pulled up to a ship, and then he heard a voice he really did not wish to hear. Grof had panicked in his weakened state when the weasel Klaus came rushing to inspect him, as Grof stared into his eyes hidden behind his glasses. Grof was in a near panic at first, but he was in considerable pain. He tried to open his mouth, but could not scream, and all went black again.

Grof felt like he was floating, a blackness overcame him. He was without thought or mind, wandering in darkness. He saw a grayness before him, a vastness beyond what seemed to be the only color. Is this. . .a marsh? His thought returned, and he saw in the glimpse of distance a figure moving about it. It was massive, it walked along the gray landscape, draped in a great red robe. Grof feared the thing, and saw blackness once again. He soon began to see a blurry color, but something was wrong. He began to retrace shades of brown, his hearing muffled and screaming with white noise. He use to be able to see his snout in front of him, but it looked crooked and shorter then he remembered. Klaus was leaning over him, wielding a strange glass object on a stick and a saw. Grof panicked again, trying to scream out. Klaus panicked himself, and was yelling something. Grof saw both Morland and another otter, who held him down as a small prick entered his arm. He was passed out again, as his eyes shut close and felt like he was floating downward.

Grof did not see that gray landscape again, his mind muddied and damp with jumbled thoughts. His eyes began to open again, his snout looking the same in front of him, but wrapped in cloth. His hearing returned and Grof looked around him.

"Jah! Yourz finally awake!" Klaus said with excitement. Grof gave a vicious look at the Weasel and instinctively grabbed his tail, feeling to make sure it was still there. Klaus wasn't ignorant as to why Grof did this and reassured him "Youz be still alivez and youz are notz in zer reich, rat. Youz infact be lucky to bez alive! You had mez worried there for a few momentz."

"Youff better notff have doneff anything elseff." Grof replied. He was quick to realized he has a lisp and in pain. Talking physically hurt him, and it felt hard. Klaus continued to explain "Youz were hit by a force Ivez not seen in zer while. I'vez treated soldiersz rammed in by wolverinesz, but you looked farz worse."

Grof tried to feel for his snout, but his paw was stopped by another. Grof looked to the side, expecting to see Morland, but only saw the other sea otter looking over him. He may have looked clean shaven, but several scars and his vitriolic expression was matched by his commanding voice.

"Best not touch it, it's still fragile. It needs to heal, rat." Gapper exclaimed.

Grof laid down his paw as Klaus added to Gapper's comments "Jah, zer otter be rightz. Youz need to rest, anz eat only liquids fromz here onz out. I am afraidz, zer, thatz yer jaw is unfixable. Youz be lucky yerz skull be as thick asz yer muscles, or'd you'd most certainlyz be dead."

Morland interjected in amazement, announcing his presence as he sat on one of the tables in the room. "Thought you were dead for sure."

Grof shrugged as he got up, realizing he wasn't in a traditional bunk and looked at his surroundings. The pots, pans, and cooking wear meant he knew he was in the kitchen of the Black Sea Plow. He commented to the two "I'mff surprised you lotff are still hereff."

"Its not like we can go anywhere." Morland exclaimed sadly.

"Ya, ya couldff. Whyff didn't yaff run to those Longff patrol?"

Gapper snorted "I was on Penolpe's ship, and locked in her cabin for most of that bloody battle. Tried to bust my way out if I could, but gave up after I realized there wasn't much I could do. Lass thought a few steps ahead." Grof gave a cruel laugh, much to Morland's confusion. Grof looked to Morland who gave a sigh as he realized he was more among fellows who would not tattle on their secrets.

"I. . .I didn't really try I thinks. I thought of it, while I was rowing on Barbo's ship, but I felt wrong abandoning all of them. Ya know? I thought of jumping in, even got up a little, but I figured I'd have been caught and punished by that taskmaster down there."

Gapper grunted "Yer first mistake, an' likely your last lad. Although to tell the truth, i'd have not taken the risk either knowin that accursed whipmaster. I've seen him whirl a whip like how Barbo wields words." Gapper folded his paws weakly, breathing a heavy sniff to show his discontent. "To be honest as well rat, I only brought ya here because Penolpe and Barbo demanded it."

"Figurffed as much. Tarloff? He aliveff?"

Morland nodded, and Grof sighed with relief "Ohff good! If I wasff a strong ratff, i'd put that blasted catff in shackles anff keep him pinnedff to Sandbeachff! By the seasonsff this hurts!"

"Yaz probably shouldz not talk so much." Klaus interjected "Yaz could further damage yerz mouth. It willz heal, but I can doz nothing aboutz ze lisp."

Grof gave a disappointed shrug "I'llff live. So longff me arms anff legs aren'tff broken."

Morland looked at Klaus and asked "Klaus, is it? Not to sound condescending, to ya. I've never seen or heard of a vermin who is such a talented healer. You weren't born in Redwall abbey by chance, were you? Or even studied there?"

Klaus felt appreciated and proudly proclaimed "Jah! Be noz abbey I comez from, but from what youz folk callz ze northwest, far pastz zer great sea. I was trainedz in Zalberg Academyz, where I got mez doctoratez in medical anz professional boat maintenance. Neverz wanted to specialize in one zing or der other. When Iz left der reich, I wantedz to zee zer world beyond zer great sea, likez zer explorers of old. Yerz peoples fascinate me so much, Saganz fascinates me and isz a good friend! I havez so many journalz of me conversationz wit prisonerz an' higher upz alike. Being herez is like goin backz in time, seeing howz you barbarianz live before you becomez properly civilized is so exciting!"

Morland gave a critical eyebrow to him "Barbarians? You mean us or the vermin?"

"Welz both. Maybez one day, if'z you two find yerself free, i'd gladly bringz you to the reich and showz you what yourz world is missing!"

Grof interjected "I wouldn'tff do thatff."

"Why not?" Morland naively asked.

Grof gave a critical eye to Klaus "Whyff don't youff tell them. Iff the taleff thing yaff folks do scare themff back to Sandffbeach, demff the otherff things willff."

"Cropping of ze tail is a perfectly healthy anz legitmatez practice. To show fealty to a proper species an'z zer reich themselvesz. You actz like zey are all slavez."

"Its causeff ya areff." Grof retorted. "Iff know off yer 'reich' alff to well. Death penaltyff fer even the mostff simple off offenses? Penalff enslavement fer the likesff of vermin like meself? Conscriptionff of childrenff? Yerff landsff are no betterff then the Sultanatesff."

Klaus seemed quite offended, quick to defend his people's practices "Youz be wrong, goodz rat! My people are dedicatedz to law anz order! Ifz a criminal doesn'tz wish ferz there deathz, we makez zem work hardz and long ferz the glory of the emperor! Everyz drop of weaselz blood is needed toz stemz zer tide of ze wildcats of ze deserts beyondz zer mountainz. Wez go education, steelz weapons, anz industry! Youz live in sandcastlez an'z with weaponz stolen from the slavezbeasts."

Morland worked up the courage to speak, although his voice was rather strained "You. . .you crop off the tails? Why isn't your tail cropped then?"

"Ohz? Iz simplez, a cropped tailz is fer fealty to zer empire, muchz like how datz brand on dat cheekz is fealty to zat dumb whiskered fiend on Sandbeach."

"What exactly lays in the west, Klaus? Is it nothing but vermin?"

"Noz. Lotz of woodlanderz live der. Itz actually odd'z to me to see so many'z free slavebeastz."

Morland angrily raised his voice "I am no slavebeast, I am-"

Grof corrected him "Youff are, anff if you aren'tff, those pirates onboard thisff ship will cut yerff throat and spillff you overboard. Just getff use to callen Tarlo an' his lotff master, and ya will be fine."

"You act like this is normal! Like any of this is normal!" Morland snapped "We are not slaves! We are. . .we are. . ." He calmed himself, trying to keep himself more silent just in case others did hear them. Gapper looked to him sadly and muttered "We are, ain't nothing going to change about that it seems."

Morland apologized "I'm. .sorry, please continue."

Klaus nodded in strange understandment "Plentyz of woodlanderz; otterz, hedgehogz, mice, anz squirrelz live side by side in zer own villages. Zey are mostly freez, unless zey rebel. Zey build our roads, true, butz it is weasel engineering zat builds out empire. Not like zem wildcats. Wretchez, all of zem, except of coursez yer master rat." Klaus gave a pained and fake smile when Grof turned to give him a death stare. "The Sultanates haz entirez cities of woodlanderz you wouldz not believe, far intoz zer west, buildin zer cities an' castles. Many livez in chainz, unlike ze reich who only uses so little of coursez!"

"Is. . .is no one free in the west? You just consider us all slaves?!" Morland was having a sudden and deep realization. To imagine an entire continent under vermin tyranny, and for so long from the sounds of it. It felt unthinkable. Klaus only added to his despair. "Samez in zer far east asz well, but so little isz known of that landz. Thisz middle land, witz its kingdomz an'z warlords. You folk arez the outlier in all this."

Morland looked defeated and bowed his head, realizing how doomed the situation truly was. His people were not struggling to survive the tide of vermin, they were simply delaying the inevitable. Gapper kept silent, sharing in the same despair of the realization how alone Green Isle and Mossflower was in the tide of vermin all around them. Freedom was becoming a ticking clock, and when it struck midnight, the last vestiges of what Morland considered normal would vanish forever.


On the docks of Sandbeach, a sea otter and his ferret guard sat together on their very short break. Although sore all over, the shackles on his legs having chafed him terribly, the sea otter was resting from a beating from one of the wildcat overseers. The ferret was not much better, his left eye blackened when he dared to question why his meal was so poor to his superiors. Both took some grim reprieve on the docks, looking out over the sea. Their game of guessing who was coming to Sandbeach was still in disarray when they had witnessed the coming of Mulkan and his horde of northern cannibals, and they had left all the same. The sea otter shivered at the thought of one of the wolverines, the one fitted in some iron collar, had looked at him. It didn't take a genius to guess what his intentions would have been had the wildcats not been watching.

The ferret spoke up in a bored voice "Not many ships be comin since dat entire army left. Ya think any more ships goin to come in?"

"If only I was so lucky." The sea otter rolled his eyes "No doubt those wildcat ships from the east is going to keep me busy till my back finally does break. For real."

"Huh. So who you thinks is goin to come? I bets its gonna be vermin this time, slaver crew bringin in fresh recruits."

"Don't cheat, lad. Be specific."

The ferret grunted in annoyance "Oh fine, lets me think. . .Oh. Mossflower rats. North be bone dry since Kasg's day I hear. Most of dem recruits be comin from all over, Mossflower an' all."

The sea otter thought it over, putting his paw to his jaw as if to channel his weak mind from the previous hours exhaustion "I bets it will be my people. I hear Minto Greeneyes went out for a raid, but I doubt we'll see him in awhile. No doubt them pirates are hunting fishing vessels an' merchant ships."

The ferret nodded his head, not in agreement, but to pretend he was listening. The two waited for a while, and as if on que they could see a couple spots in the distance. As the spots got closer, the two's master came bounding from the farther off docks, dusting off his shirt of crumbs. He barked orders at them "Get up and ready, you lazy cretans! Be ready to assist the occupants of those ships!" The sea otter got off the crates he had been sitting on and bowed his head along with the ferret's. The two may have been mortal enemies in one life, but on Sandbeach they may as well have been equals in the wildcat's eyes.

The wildcat himself was rather pissed, his meal ruined by an alarm. Barbo Senger's ship was spotted first, but then a confusing anti-alarm of his spotters also spotted the Black Sea Plow next to them. Then another galley was trudging behind them. A pirate ship was also spotted, a smaller vessel of a lesser known captain. The dock commander was confused and was unsure if they were going to be attacked or greeting Tarlo Greeneyes. Whatever the case was, he was ready. These four ships began to dock at the ports, as the sea otter and ferret silently lifted their heads while their master was not looking, wishing to see who won their morbid game.

They were dumbfounded, as they saw a large plethora of figures emerge and come their way. It was the two Wildcat princes themselves, Minto and Tarlo Greeneyes. They were followed by their entourage of pirates, captured sea otters, corsairs, lizards, and others. Minto and Tarlo were arguing quite loudly.

"How! How do you find your way to so stupidly find yourself on the deck of the badger ship, and have the audacity to retreat, you incompetent! You moron! You fool!" Minto screamed with rage, practically bashing his trident down. The two had been trading their troubles and stories, but Tarlo was also angrily chastised his brother "You were sent with an army, Minto! How can you lose all of those cats who swore to father! You call me incompetent, but look at you! A child could have pulled off a better raid."

"We were ambushed, by creatures you should have been hunting from the start!"

"You lost so many ships, we expected you to reinforce us at sea! To meet up at a decent time at least!"

"I'd strangle you now, if you weren't a relative, you dope!"

"And I'd disown you if I was head of this family!"

The two angrily bickered, as their entourage trailed behind. The sea otter slave looked up as their groups slowly began to distance themselves as the wildcat princes passed, yelling and insulting one another. The wildcat commander looked on in some disbelief as the two other groups began to talk amongst themselves.

"I hear your raid did not go well, matey?" Sagan asked Pulkan, who still looked a bit shaken. "It did not, ambush it was. Nearly lost our own lives just escaping both the otters and Long Patrol. We thought it would be easy. . .but they knew we were coming miles away."

Barbo reassured him "Well, young kitten, tis the Long Patrol. There is no shame in admitting even a dreaded defeat at their paws. Many of good life, ill or otherwise, has fallen to their blades."

Kurgle grunted "Yes, but how did you folk lose so much yourselves? Sounded exciting what you folk were doing. I'd have probably done better, of course, but I must say. Impressive work."

Sagan laughed "Ha! I like yer spirit kid. Much like Tarlo. Ya greeneyes all like this?"

Pulkan gulped "I wish. Father is going to tan us, if Milo doesn't flay us first."

The group passed by the two, as lizards soon marched on from them. Barbo Senger and Kurgle Greeneyes stayed behind to talk to the confused and bumbling dock captain, who tried to get a word in. He fumbled his words as this cadre of pirates found themselves just waltzing into Sandbeach unopposed. The sea otter slave looked sadly at the youth of some of the captured sailors, who were being led into a fate he considered far worse than death. The ferret did not really know what to think, as he simply tried to avoid eye contact with one particularly large lizard who was looking around at the vast settlement before him, as if lost.

Kurgle spoke up "Captain. . .you didn't see anything. Not yet at least, can you keep that between us?"

Barbo added to his comments "Of course, I am also wishing to give my thanks for you seeing to my ship at these most prestigious docks, despite our history. I'd even be more glad if you could keep my rowers well fed and our ships safe, restocking what we have as is my future agreement with your lord. Naturally of course, if things do not go well, I'd prefer such things kept secret."

The wildcat was not even able to get a word in before he left, leaving him speechless. He turned to the two servants behind him and angrily barked his orders. "Well! You heard them! Get to it!"
_

If there was one thing Minto hated more than the dreaded enemy of Green Isle, it was his brother. Minto hated nearly everything about him, and seethed with every step his took. As the two walked together, Minto felt like a prisoner for having to be by his side, to call him kin. He always thought of his elder brother as a soft, overly humble, glory monger. His father saw him as the bright star who would lead the Wildcats forward into the future, but he was the black sheep for even daring to suggest that their efforts should be directed on Green Isle. Minto despised Tarlo more than he despised the slaves, the useless vermin help, and every enemy who had struck a blow against them. If he could, and had gotten away with it, he would have strangled Tarlo and threw his cadaver into the sea.

Yet, as the two walked, both fell deathly silent as they approached the palace and could only note the sheer lack of vermin, and even slaves for that matter, who would have normally been wandering the streets. Minto gave a hiss, realizing what had happened.

"Oh by the god! Father must have sent his entire army out!" Minto seethed. Tarlo only nodded in agreement. Minto continued to rant "How can father continue to do this to me! The most important day of the year, our most sacred day that he told me from the start would be the 'culmination of all our designs' and he sends them off while I am gone! Useless, whiskered wretch."

"Why must you speak so ill of him while he is not here, Minto?" Tarlo asked.

"Why don't you? We have an entire army, Tarlo. We could have used it to crush Green Isle like mother always demanded we should, and I couldn't have agreed more! We had our chance to make that island ours again, reclaim our birthright! Father however looks to some blasted forest in the east, and is delayed. Now? Green Isle is a fortress. It has a sizable navy, and its people remain vigilant for us. If anything, Tarlo, it's you and father's fault that my raid failed so spectacularly!"

"Pray tell brother, how I had ruined your precious slave taking." Tarlo asked in an annoyed and bored voice, knowing full well he was going to have to listen to Minto rant and rave.

"Your dumb cats you brought from the east were worthless! Useless! In a real fight they fell to hare and otter alike!"

"It is the commander who is at fault, Minto, not the soldier." Tarlo sneered, giving his brother a deathly gaze "You exclaimed you were ambushed and retreated, and the Long Patrol followed you. The otters followed you. You know mother's lessons better then I do, but I know how stupid it was to run from creatures who master su-"

"They are slavebeasts, you nitwit! They master nothing. Only our people can master things." Minto swiftly and angrily reminded him.

Tarlo rolled his eyes and went silent, not wishing to debate his stone wall of a brother. Minto eventually stopped ranting and raving, and the two eventually stopped. They both stared at the guarded door to the palace of Sandbeach. Both brothers remained there in silence, thinking to themselves. Neither wished to enter, to hear the judgement of their father. Minto had hoped his father was in fact not even in the palace, that his mother remained behind to rule. Tarlo simply wished to go straight into the paws of his wife. Both slowly entered, and made their presence known, a final step before the plunge into trouble.
_

The vast group entered the palace, but Minto did not give his speech to the otter captives being hauled into the palace this time. His mind was more narrow and thinking of ways to escape his duties. Tarlo stayed with the likes of Sagan and Barbo, with Barbo and his daughter looking all around at the gardens and colorful array before them. Barbo found it cute, the palace looked a little bigger than his own home, but so much more lively. The two stouts were practically giving reviews of the art of the garden, the designs of the statues, and even the colors of the roses. One of the slaves who had been tending flowers had frozen in fear when Barbo approached, only for him to pluck a flower and put it in his daughter's upper ear. "Now my dear, you are perfect to enter into this wonderful little paradise made for the likes of the Wildcats and their servants. Although perhaps we should have freshened up a bit? I think we smell like. . .you there, what do we smell like?"

The servant sniffed and answered "Umm. Sea salt?"

"Oh? I thought it would be more like blood? Well, good thing is Salt can and least be a decent perfume for rogues such as ourselves. Come, let us see the Lord of some Vermin, and Master of quite a large gaggle of slaves."

As the doors opened, Tarlo and Minto entered, and Milo was not sitting on his throne. Minto was nearly relieved until he saw Morma Puff nearby. Ever the elder servant of his father, her presence meant he was close. As if on cue, from the shadows of a room less illuminated, Milo arrived and looked to his sons, affixing his crown and rings of his paws. He gave a strange look to them, unsure if he should smile or frown, but frown he did when such a large audience had come to his court, with such a large group of common vermin stinking his halls.

Milo sat on his throne and got comfortable, looking over with increasing concern and confusion at who entered. A mixture of pirates of both Sagan and another's drew to the sides of the room, the elite guard of Milo keeping a critical eye on them. Lizards drew to another side, tribal creatures who spoke in an uncommon language to one another. Tarlo was flanked by three others and behind him were a group of captive sea otters. He could recognize Sagan, but the two caped stouts he did not. They looked like they came from the far west, from where the accursed sultanates called home. One was clearly younger than the other, but Milo had deduced by his weapon and minions he was a corsair of some kind. Yet he stood rather proud, tall, and well mannered then what he was used to. His eyes gazed over at his son Minto, who was only surrounded by Kurgle and Pulkan who looked rather dejected. Milo's concern only grew. It wasn't with Minto himself, but with who wasn't by his side. Where is his captains? His entourage? Oh good god! If that wretched idiot lost his entire divisions on Green Isle, I will make him regret the day I raised him and didn't throw his crib from a cliff! Milo paused for a moment and began to speak.

"My sons, come forward. Your journey must have been long and arduous. You come with increased company for one, and a lack of company for another. Regale me this tail in short, for you will be given new commissions shortly there after. Depending on what I hear."

Both came forward and knelt, their tridents in paw. Minto looked to his father, his seething rage not hard to notice. He gulped, about to speak of his failures. Minto began to speak "There was disaster o-"

"-At sea, father." Tarlo interrupted, continuing to make sure Minto could not speak up. "My brother does wish to speak of it for he had lost so much. As I tracked the ship of the badger lord, me and the crew of Sagan Black went to go find an ally to better increase our chances of success, the stout who stands now in your court. When we gathered our forces and set out, we caught up to the enemy near Green Isle, just as they were leaving. We engaged, the enemy having more ships, but confident in our speed and veracity, but we greatly misjudged our enemy, oh father. The badger lord nearly had us, and would have slew us all had it not been for Minto and his fleet to arrive and allow our escape. We fought tooth and claw to free ourselves from the enemy fleet, but as we escaped mostly unharmed, the enemy overwhelmed Minto and his ships sunk into the sea, taking their cargo of slaves and soldiers with them."

Minto gave a deathly and surprised stare to his brother, but quickly returned to his normal state to try to keep up the illusion. Milo looked beside himself, utterly shocked. He thought it over for a moment and then arose. "Truly, my son? You speak the truth?"

Tarlo nodded "Yes, father. When do I not?"

"My shining star, my greatest creation, would fail in such a way?" Milo arose from his throne and came forward, as he was clearly suspicious. Minto was quick to add to the story. "Of course, as my brother had engaged the enemy quite foolishly, I ordered our ships forward. We crashed into them, father, failed regardless. Tarlo speaks the truth, if only embellished."

The others were silent, some like Kurgle and Pulkan looking dumbfounded at one another, unsure of what to add or say to help out this lie. Milo walked past them, with Sagan quickly adding "Naturally of course, governa. I can add nothin but truth to der tale if ya wish to hear my report."

Milo gave a disturbed smile at Sagan "That would not be necessary, I will pry the truth from another." He came up to one of the sea otters who was in front of the others, shackled to one another by their paws. Milo calmly but firmly grabbed the shirt of his collar and held him close. Tarlo and Milo arose and looked at their father with increasing concern. If anything, Milo's suspicions and intuition was always spot on, and lying to him wasn't always the best choice.

"Now, slave. I want you to tell me the truth." Milo said in a less than reassuring voice. "If you don't, you and your friends here will not live for very long, and your people will watch with wide and fearful eyes, and I will make sure of it." The sea otter looked fearful, but his gaze was also on Tarlo and Minto who stood far off behind their father. Tarlo gave one last hope to try to reassure the otter with his paws, trying to give a mix of a thumbs up to sort of say. The sea otter looked back to Milo who shook him to get his attention.

The sea otter gulped and nodded "Aye, tis the truth."

"Pray tell then how you and your lot were captured, if this was such a failure, you are from Green Isle?"

"Aye, I am ca-" The sea otter felt a claw go down his face and he whimpered in pain. Milo again in his firm and calm voice spoke "You will refer to me and any of my family as master. You will start by addressing me as such. I am the Lord of all Vermin. Master of all Slaves. Emperor of Sandbeach, Green Isle, and Mossflower itself. I am your true liege, and you are a servant to me and my subjects. Now please, start again."

"Y-yes, M-master." The sea otter nearly spat, the fear of death overwashed him staring into Milo's cold and calculating eyes. "I was born on Green Isle, but I was there at the battle. Yer lads crashed into our ship they did on there, erm, way out of it. I tells the truth, on my heart an' rudder."

Milo let him go, seemingly satisfied. He returned to his throne at a slow pace and sat. He paused, collecting himself as if he was going to go into a horrifying rage, but simply breathed in a sigh instead. "My sons, your failure is beyond words, especially you my shining star, our prince to be Tarlo. Minto, your actions were likely reckless no doubt, and I will hear none of it, but I come to expect such things from you, even at a loss. Yet, failure is no reason to be angry over, I am nothing but grateful you two are alive and well. Now, do tell me, is there anything else to add."

Tarlo nodded "Yes father, let me introduce the infamous corsair himself, Barbo Senger and his daughter Penolpe." Milo turned his gaze to the strage stouts as both gave this overly immaculate bow to him. Milo raised an eyebrow as they spoke in such a very formal tone for sea scum such as them.

"My lord, oh most gracious of lords and most merciful of masters. I am Barbo Senger, Corsair Extraordinar! I am certain you and I have known each other from afar, and are most grateful to be in your presence, and to witness the ways you conduct your well ordered court! Your son Tarlo, the boy of a silver tongue, convinced my old soul to come on this venture and to see your cause for yourself. I must say, I am most excited to work with him, and thus you in turn. My services are not cheap normally, but for you and what you can offer in the future for both me and my daughter, my ship will proudly fly next to your colors, and be rewarded in kind by your commissions. Your palace quite reminds me of my own, maybe albeit smaller than mine normally is, but it's such a beautiful and well tended thing! Most certainly your son's palace is so much bigger? I give you my expertise, my service, and my hopes to you, Oh Lord of many Vermin, and Master of even more slaves, Sultan of Mossflower!"

Milo smiled at the praise from the corsair, but once he began to think on Barbo's speech, he began to notice a few mistakes and oddities. He pushed them out of his mind, and accepted it. "Despite my son's failure, the willfulness of your service to me is most appreciated. I will be honored for the mighty Barbo Senger to join me in my righteous cause. Let us forgive one another of our transgressions, and make for a brighter future of my rule over both sea and land."

"I couldn't agree more, my lord." Barbo smiled.

Morland and Gapper were the last to arrive at the court, just in time to see the sea otters that had been captured being forced to kneel much like Morland had done, given a similar if not shortened speech. One of the sailors looked at him, frightened and hopeless. Morland wished he had comforting words for them, but he had none. In truth, Morland thought they would probably be better off dead, then living in the abyss that was Sandbeach.


Tarlo, Minto, and Milo entered the personal office of the wildcat ruler, followed shortly by Morma Puff who was holding a silver platter of various delicacies. As the three sat, and the plate set before them, Morma happily looked at them and with pride mentioned "These come as gifts from the sultan, my lord, sugared plums and baked treats! Your missus tried some the other day, having nothing but good things to say. I shall excuse myself of course." Milo smiled and nodded "Thank you Morma. Please, go tend to our guests, and make sure they do not damage anything in particular." Morma bowed and went off. Once the door was closed, the rather happy mood shifted, for in the privacy of an office without sight or sound to worry about, Milo's true self came out. He frowned heavily, his paws scratching into his fine desk as both of his sons looked shameful at him.

"Of all of my failings, you two are going ever further to the top of the list." He seethed. Minto was about to speak up, but a glare from Milo had shut him up. "Minto. Tarlo. As you both know, my armies have finally set sail to Mossflower, led by my son-in-law Kain, who I may as well make my heir! Tarlo! You practically had the badger lord in your grasp, and failed to even sink a single ship?! Minto, you lost hundreds of valuable soldiers into the sea in such recklessness! If you were any other cat, your heads would be on pikes!"

"Father, the bad-"

"Don't talk to me about badgers, your ancestors faced them down with no issue, yet you two flounder at it! It was because of you Minto that we had to accelerate our plans! Tarlo, you should have known better! No amount of training or experience seems to improve you both, yet I trust you two far more than others. Your blood is too important to misuse. Now listen closely, for failure is not an option. You are both to head off to the siege of Salamanderstron and use our new found 'ally' to quickly breach inside. Once the badger lord and his hares are slain, Mossflower will be in our grasp! Minto, your recklessness must be born of some far flung idiot of an ancestor, but you will be going in my stead to lead the army. Tarlo, I have a simpler job for you. You and your new allies will trek an army in land, and secure Redwall Abbey. You are to burn it to the ground. What you do to the inhabitants, I do not care."

Tarlo and Minto raised their eyebrows at one word in particular their father used. 'Ally'. If the two brothers had their secrets, so did their father as Tarlo raised his voice first. "Ally? A traitor you mean?"

Milo sneered "Yes, in both places. They will aid you with the gates at my instruction, and other. . .special requests. They are quite useful to my plans, but our deal has limits. They have been unintentionally useful before, but you are not to trust them. I have plans for them, for my own amusement, when all is said and done."

Minto angrily pounded the chair he was sitting in "Father, this is absurd! We have armies, but we do not test them at Green Isle!" Minto snapped as Milo gave him a somehow even worse stare. This time it did not shut Minto up "We have more vermin then we can count, but we could instead conquer Green Isle and be done with it! Why do we waste our time with Mossflower? Green Isle is our birthright."

"Minto, both lands are our birthright, but Green Isle is the lesser prize. We have more then enough slaves for both our armies and our industries, we do not need another isle to manage. We will conquer the isle in time, take its people into slavery once again, but I am not going to give you, or your damnable wretch of a mother, a reason to abandon my cause so they can play pretend some blasted cold land like Green Isle!"

"Do not speak of my mother like that, Milo!" Minto arose, fury in his eyes. Milo calmly arose, but swiftly slapped Minto across the face, leaving fresh claw marks on him. "Speak to me in such a manner again, Minto, or I will drown you in the sea itself. You are to do as I order at once, and you will do it with a happy mood. You do this for your family, for me."

Tarlo nodded in agreement and arose as well. He always believed Minto needed a good beating to reset his mood. Minto dragged his claw across the small bleeding on his face and only bowed to his father and left. Tarlo joined Minto shortly thereafter, and once the two had gone a small ways from their father's presence, Minto roughly came onto Tarlo and grabbed the collar of his shirt, pushing him into a pillar.

Tarlo was unsure if he was being attacked as Minto seethed and hissed "You. Why did you do that, in the throne room, brother. Tell me what game you are playing at!"

"Father is right, whether you like it or not." Tarlo calmly took his brother's paws and pushed him away. "You may be a spiteful, arrogant, moronic, overzealous wretch. You are still my brother at the end of the day, and our blood must remain united. I don't need to be your friend, but I know father's anger all too well. I also did it for Kurgle and Pulkan's sake. It was their first raid, Minto. Could you imagine what father would do to them and their careers if he learned you three failed him? Father is righteous to be angry, but I never believe that our family should be attacking one another when we have battles yet to fight."

Minto continued to seeth, not because his brother was still the naive wretch he was, but because he was right. He had not thought of Kurgle or Pulkan, and it would be a great blow to their coming careers had they been failed by him. He pointed his claw at Tarlo, a bit speechless.

"If you think I owe you one, you ha-"

"The only thing I ask, Minto, is that you give any thanks or reward to those recently captured slaves who saved your life, although no doubt I will be the one who has to do it. I don't do this for favors, I do it because we must secure our place in the world. It is our duty to father, to our fallen."

Minto hissed and angrily sped off, wishing to be as far from Sandbeach as possible before he strangled his brother. Tarlo sighed, wondering if his brother would one day see things in his light, but he knew full well in his heart that such a day would likely never come.
_

Tarlo had few things he dreaded most then standing at the door in front of him. He fixed up his collar and dusted off his cape. Morland was next to him, his head bowed and silent. Tarlo licked some of his paws as clean as he could, and seemed to prepare himself, as if he was going into battle. The door in front of him was certainly a battlefield, but of a different sort. It was his mother's room, the ever toxic and vicious woman Tarlo would avoid purposefully whenever he could. Milo may have been angry, but Tarlo saw him as wise and a creature to look up to. Tarlo saw him as merciful and pragmatic, an honorable creature who he took after quite well. Maria however was just angry. Always angry in fact as Tarlo was quick to mention to Morland.

"Do not try to look her directly in the eyes, my servant. Mum can be. . .unpredictable. Just keep silent, if you can."

Morland whispered back "Do you wish me to stay out here, sir?"

Tarlo sighed "No. Mum is. . .odd." The wildcat paused often, especially when it came to speaking about his mother. Morland knew she was a Felis, the hated enemy of Green Isle, but even Tarlo came to fear her more than three badgers. Once he was ready, Tarlo knocked upon the door of the room. A voice on the other side cried out.

"You better be kin to disturb me."

"Mum, tis me. Tarlo."

There was silence, then groans. Maria Felis opened her door and looked into the eyes of her first born, and then down at Morland. Morland could not see her, but he could feel a raw aura of negative energy from her stare alone. Maria grunted as she looked over Tarlo, but stood in the door to not give him entrance. "Yes? Do you have something from your father? Well, spit it out Tarlo, I have little patience to spare."

"Ma, I wanted to spe-"

"Speak to me about what? You made your choice to be your father's lap dog ages ago, and now you wish to speak me like an equal?"

"Ma, If yo-"

"Fine, come in, but do not stink up my abode for long." Maria turned as Tarlo sighed and entered. Morland was unsure to follow, but kept to a corner if he could. Maria noted his presence immediately. "I see you finally embrace the good part of your blood line, much like your brother has. At least it's an improvement."

"Perhaps, but he didn't keep them fo-"

"They disobeyed him, he punished them. True, he was a bit rash, but that rashness is from his father. Now speak, Tarlo." Maria was brushing her hair at a mirror, not bothering to look at Tarlo let alone give him the dignity he deserved. Tarlo never understood why his mother was like this, her obsessions with Green Isle and control. His uncle Chuggas was hundreds of times more reasonable than she was. Tarlo nodded and stood at attention, as if ready to announce something, but was now not so sure. Maria continued to grow more impatient.

"You look like a clown, my son, just standing there like that. Well, speak up."

"Mother, hypothetically, if. . .if we were to have captured a prince of Green Isle, what would you do with him?"

Maria stopped brushing and gave a grim glare to Tarlo. She was unsure of why he would ask that, but Morland knew. Tarlo had not told his father of his new prisoner, and certainly not anyone else. Not even Minto knew, and Sagan and Barbo cared not to tell anyone who didn't know what to ask.

"Tis that it? Why even ask such a question, Tarlo."

"In our battle, we came close to securing one, and I just wish to know if we ever did capture one. What would you do? Would you kill him, in vengeance for our family? Keep him locked up for whatever reason you devise? I don't really know."

Maria squinted her eyes suspiciously at Tarlo and thought it over "If you did have a prince of Green Isle, you certainly would not hide it from me. I would do what all otters of the wretched blood line and its people deserve. Death. If you find one, you kill it, and you show its head to every sea otter you meet. They must know the blood of Tiria Wildlough, our bane, is snuffed out forever."

"Mother, hypothetically, I was thinking. What if we. . .didn't do that? That we taught these creatures, even their most high and royal, our superiority over them? Singing the praises of our mercy?"

"My naive and stupid child, you sound like my brother. As amusing as it may be, to see the last of that wretched family drained of life, doing menial work in some quarry or galley, I will not risk it. You are to kill them on sight, my son. Your father may show them mercy, but breaking down a slave is work, and it is difficult. They must know there is no hope, and what better hope is there then a king who represents them?"

"Would it not break them down then if they saw their king in rags?"

"My father, the rightful king of Green Isle by birthright, lived his entire life in rags. Nearly so did I till your accursed father found me. I do like your idealism, my son, and if by some divine providence you found some prince and broke him down to some miserable thrall like that pathetic creature over there, then I might just forgive your naivety. Our entire blood line must be dedicated to this task, regaining control of not only that island, but its people as well."

Tarlo sighed and nodded "Of course, mum."

"Now, where is Minto? Is he back yet, by chance?"

"Yes. I am surprised he did not come to see you." Maria paused, knowing that if Minto had not come to see her, he was having a very bad day. Maria sighed and angrily hissed at Tarlo "Get out, and take that creature with you. Perhaps you will take your claim to Green Isle seriously one day, but hope does tend to die so quickly on this island."

Tarlo slowly left and Morland followed. He looked up at Tarlo who looked white in the face, with Morland unsure of what he was planning.
_

Minto was heading back towards the ships, getting ready to head out. He was calling for some guards, which several captains were mustering. Minto was readying a swift ship to take him to the coast of Mossflower, and he wished to be away from Sandbeach in due course. He was thinking over some things, as he watched slaves load his ship, grunting and murmuring to himself. He noticed a figure had come up to him, followed by several feral cats. Minto looked to his right, seeing Tolas Bigring beside him, the ever loyal rat and captain of the palace guard. He groaned, expecting to see his father standing beside him, but was surprised to see his mother instead, in her fine dress and looking rather critically at Minto. Her servant Lumbert, the white otter who followed her, kept his head bowed and far off from Minto. Maria took her paw with a cloth and wiped the new scar on his cheek, her normally poisonous look turned to one of compassion and concern, and Minto's rage calmed to little more than an evening breeze.

"A work of your father, I take it."

"The old wr-" Minto stopped himself, knowing Tolas was behind him. Whatever he said to his mother, no doubt would be told to his father by him.

"Yes."

"Your father loves you, I am certain, but my dearest Minto you must be more careful with your words. Tarlo had come to see me, asked me some strange questions, but told me more importantly you meant to leave soon."

"I did not wish to see you in this state, mum." Minto said sadly.

"I know you don't, my dearest kitten. I've come to see you off. My only regret is not seeing you triumphantly leading our armies to our hated enemy. It would have been so much better if you were to return at the head of a conquering army, then to be going to such a miserable place like Mossflower. My son, I want you to take this." Maria gently gave a box into Minto's paw and he opened it. It was a silver necklace, attached to it was a small rusted looking scrap of metal. Minto was unsure if this was simply bad art, or if it had meaning as Maria silently whispered to him "My father gave it to me, and it is our birthright. When our family was forced into poverty, he had kept the last remaining pieces of Riggu Felis's trident. At least as he once said. I wish you to have it, my son, as the heir to our home, and to remember you are always a son of mine."

"Mum, I do not know what to say."

"Say nothing, and keep it with you, my son. Whatever victory you have in Mossflower will forever pale in comparison to what you will achieve on Green Isle." The two embraced one another as Minto placed the necklace on his neck, a swell of pride overcame him. With vigor to his step he began to bark orders at the crew and slave loading his ship.

"Faster! The quick we arrive in Mossflower, the better! Get a move on!"

Maria looked on with some pride, although Tolas was quick to speak up in concern. "Maria, I ain't normally one to speak up, ya know that, but is that really yer most prized possession?"

"Tolas, do you think I would give it away so easily?" Maria continued to smile, becoming more pained. Tolas felt disgusted as he turned to her. "What exactly did ya give him?"

"A piece of metal I found in the palace. My father was many things, and we once did have a heirloom. Now? It's locked in some vault, thousands of miles away. Traded for a scrap of bread. Let my son have his myths, Tolas. The more he believes he comes from a long line of great rulers and lords who are destined to rule our homeland, the quicker I can come to rule Green Isle."

"Ya know full well Milo will get to it eventually."

"He isn't quick enough. Where your master fails, Tolas, my son will bring his trident down on the neck of the last high king of Green Isle."


It was like a vacation for Barbo and Sagan, as the two returned to the Holy Reckoning as they discussed their plans. On top of the deck, guarded by two lizards who forcefully kept his head down, Canton Wildlough looked on at the hated isle of Sandbeach. Everything about it looked like hell on earth to him. Where Green Isle had a nice cool breeze, the blazing sun shined down on him like a hellish fire. The vermin city looked ominous in the distance, and the rows upon rows of shacks where the slaves were kept dismayed him. He knew Green Isle's colonies and lands had suffered terribly, but to see its manifestation in Sandbeach was a terrifying sight. Kept bound in ropes by his paws, he dared not move lest his lizard guard decided to beat him further. Canton watched as Barbo and Sagan sat on deck, discussing what Tarlo had told them.

"A siege of Redwall itself, my friend? Quite a commission indeed! I've never seen an abbey before, especially one with such a long history! Oh I can see it now, us sitting over the burning battlements of a settlement which stood countless waves of vermin hosts, with only two legendary pirates now flying a flag over it!"

"I don't know, mate. Ya might be excited, but dis is a siege we be talken about. I signed up to get me ship, not go for a siege. Although Tarlo did say we'd likely stay fer the show at Salamanderstron, an git me ship der."

"Perhaps, but I am practically gitty with excitement. With so little at sea now-a-days, with this new found war and all, the sea would certainly be most boring! Tarlo did offer us a sizable part of the loot."

"Aye, which is why I even agreed at all." The two stopped and stared at Canton who looked up with anger at them. Barbo grabbed the gruff of his neck and stood him up as Sagan watched his friendly rival work. Canton was confused, and began to struggle a bit as Barbo forcefully removed his fine clothes from him until he was down only to his undergarments, and then threw a brownish tunic at him "My good, and fine lord, put this on if you would so kindly."

Canton was confused as he looked down at the shirt, his fine clothes were dumped overboard by the corsair. He threw down the tunic in disgust and angrily yelled "What is the meaning of this?!"

"Oh? I forgot to mention, we will be parked here for a few days on Sandbeach before we leave. Although that does mean you will be lazy, my dear friend! You will be enjoying the full company of my daughter, and your fellow kin. As Tarlo had put it so gently to me 'To show him the superiority of the Greeneyes', exedera exedera. He thinks a couple of days of working may just jolt you into what he thinks will give you some insight into becoming a more proper servant of this empire, but preferably with some secrecy."

Canton was more confused than angry. What the heck did he mean by that? Secrecy? 'Jolt to my proper place'? Canton did not want to know the details, but Barbo came over and clasped his paws around Canton's throat, choking him. He continued to rant as Canton desperately tried to claw in his bound hands at Barbo's seemingly absurd strength. "Naturally of course,as we stay here in Sandbeach and get to know my employers a bit more, I think it's most appropriate that you get to know the people yourself! Oh you know, the people you and your father used to think of as dregs, you can now become the great populist by working at their level! I find it quite exciting for such a young and bold prince like yourself to act the part of becoming more equal to his people on some level. Now, do put that shirt on, or you will be meeting them with little more than your pants."

Barbo let go of Canton's throat as he tumbled to the ground and began to cough and gag. He reluctantly obeyed, as one of the corsairs came up behind him, putting manacles onto his legs. Barbo used his knife to cut Canton's bonds on his arms, but the relief was short lived as manacles also came onto them as well. Barbo guided Canton, who struggled to get use to walking in such restraints, as Sagan continued to speak to the corsair on their new mission.

"I don't know, Barbo. Dis all seems a bit wacky to me. Ya think we be in too deep?"

"Oh nonsense! Sagan, you will still get your ship, perhaps not in the way you wish, but once the mountain is taken they will gladly hand over any and all ships to you. This Milo fellow sounds like a deal maker to me, and he would not wish to cross you or me."

"Eh, maybe. I still don't like goin inland, land not be best suited fer the likes of me."

"Me neither, to be honest, but its an adventure, my friend! You practically live for it! So do I, in most cases, but to see new lands from such a new perspective! I can barely wait as it is."

Sagan cringed, but had to agree with Barbo. Milo and Tarlo had sweetened his deal, offering a large sum of money this time around along with the Mountain of the Sea. Barbo was paid in adventure and glory, ever the artist of death he was. The two walked along with their prisoner between them as Canton looked around him. He saw hopeless and dejected faces of vermin and woodlander alike, their seasons spent on Sandbeach in the shadow of the felines had drained every inch of their soul. He spotted one dead creature near him, having curled up in a ditch and none had bothered to move or bury it. Canton was frightened what would happen to him, where Sagan and Barbo were taking him, but he didn't have to guess for long.

Canton was brought to a work sight, where a large number of sea otters and many familiar faces were breaking rocks and hauling up large slabs of stones to complete a section of the walls, expanding it ever outward. It seemed the wildcats intended to extend a smaller wall around the slave pens, controlling their population even further. The whips cracks and cries of fellow otters rung in the air. Canton saw two of the sailors he had brought on his doomed voyage in the crowd, their cheeks still singed from the brand marks of the cat eye upon them. Other struggled to carry up stones from the pit and piles of dirt, and standing over all of it was Penolpe and a wildcat overseer.

The stoutess was reading a book to herself, with Gapper to her side keeping his head bowed, trying to not look at his fellow clansmen who worked to exhaustion in the pits and work stations around him. Canton could see them, as Barbo brought him and forced him to kneel at Penolpe's feet, who lazily looked at him as if he had disturbed her from her reading.

"My dear." Barbo came over and kissed his daughter on the head. "This is our newest worker, do be careful my dear, he quite fragile. Do not spare the lash, of course. We wouldn't want such a creature such as he to miss all the wonders and glories of working for his food!"

"Of course father. Do have fun in your own time!" Penolpe looked down at Canton who fearfully looked all around him. Was. . .was this the mercy that wildcat had for those sailors?! What kind of m- His train of thought was stopped when he felt a lash across his head and he bent down in pain, realizing his head was bleeding. Penople was the one holding the whip and simply smiled "You best get to it, slavebeast. You only have a few days to spend here, but these poor creatures. Tsk tsk tsk. Their days are numbered, but not in the same ways you are, eh? Believe me, you'd not wish to join them."
_

Morland was sitting on a small pedestal, looking down sadly at the porridge he had been given, with what he could only guess to be a stale piece of bread in it. The sea otter felt he was pathetic, as he took a sip of the lukewarm porridge. The other servants of the wildcat palace were in their own barracks, eating and conversing. Morland didn't wish to join them, as he was waiting for Tarlo. Tarlo and his father Milo were talking in privacy, but from the long conversation, it could very well be night before the time had passed. As Morland ate his supper, he was joined by Gapper who had his own bowl who sat beneath where Morland was sitting. He looked down at the elder former captain, as he practically gobbled his soup as if it were the most delicious thing put on the earth. It wasn't, to Morland it smelled weird, but Gapper licked his lips.

Morland tried to initiate small talk to pass the time "I hear the workers down below are a bit more lucky. Last time I was down there, they had least had fish. Even crab."

Gapper shrugged "Aye, I saw. Although, I'd prefer this stuff to be honest. When you are at sea so often, you kind of just begin to hate the taste of seafood."

"I bets. I'm surprised they even fed you in that accursed ship."

Gapper chuckled "Seasons, I wish they'd have just killed me. Barbo's cruetly really does know no bounds. Being liked by him isn't much better then being despised. He made sure we are all well fed, he doesn't like seeing us die."

Morland raised an eyebrow "Cause he needs good rowers?"

"Nay. Cause he wants to prolong our suffering as much as possible, lad." Gapper looked down sadly into his bowl, cursing and mumbling to himself. "Get use to the peace, lad. They won't be here much longer."

"I heard." Morland took a bite of his bread, and immediately regretted it. He chewed it a bit before gulping down harshly. He had bad rations before, but whatever the wildcats decided to feed their thralls certainly made him miss his old rations more and more. As the two ate in some silence, a dormouse came bounding from the corner with her own bowl, but was surprised to see the two otters out and about. Morland was about to strike up another, more darker, conversation before she arrived.

"You two, aren't in the barracks?"

Gapper shook his head "My mistress is sleeping in some library I thinks, told me to get my food and await for her in the morning. This one here I think is awaiting that younger wildcat." Morland nodded his head in confirmation. Morma pitied them and sat by them. "Wells, if I may, you two might be better company. The others give me bad looks at times."

Gapper noted this as Morma ate her meal in peace. "How long have you been in that. . .thing's service?"

"Long time, really. My father use to have a merchant ship, but when we were captured and brought here. The former lord of Sandbeach needed someone to serve his son, and I just so happened to be picked. Vermin types like them like to have others take care of their dirt while they are away."

Morland perked up and asked "Gapper. How's the prince anyhow? Is he. . .you know. . ."

"If he was dead, I wouldn't be here. He's alive, with a couple nasty gashes in his back where his shirt should be. It gets warm here, so it's probably for the better no doubt. I have no clue why they are doing this to him though. Or to us really, to tell the truth. You'd think with all the able paws they got here, they'd not need the likes of us?"

Morma sighed "Ya, you an' that Chuggas fellow would get along swimmingly."

"Chuggas?"

"Chuggas Felis, last of the line they says. Big ol' cat, kitten faced if you get a good look at him. You don't see him so often, he spends so much time down in the local guild and docks, or somewhere in the sultanates that I can barely see him! I prefer him to his sister, me master's wife if you haven't already guessed."

"I must ask, if you know, why do they want us like this?" Morland asked, his heart fairly wrenched. Morma sighed again as she sipped her bowl, the evening sky growing ever darker and the sun's rays became blinding flickers in the openness of the palace. "I don't know Maria well enough, but what I can tell you comes from her own servant. That white otter who scurries around? Maria sends him off to do stuff, not certain what though. The lady cat likes control, and she makes sure to keep everyone under her leash. She won't even allow the otters be traded with the sultanates, she just wants you folk to work forever under her and me master. Chuggas commented to me it was stupid, an' I couldn't agree more. I fear not much but bad news will come to Sandbeach in the near future."

Gapper and Morland could hear a hint of happiness in Morma's voice, and realized something. Gapper spoke first "You speak of your master with such reverence? Does he feed you well?"

Morma lifted her bowl to reveal it was the same as theirs, no special privileges granted to her other than being Milo's servant. "Oh? Tis simple, its just better to give up. Not something you folk like to hear, especially to the new laborers. Reason why I ain't friendly with those lot in the barracks. They say its crazy, but Milo an' his family got one point to prove and they proven it. They are just simply the superior beasts. They built so much, and command so much. Its just better to accept it now then get a lash to your back for trying to call it out. Tis not why Milo likes me though, knowing my place, for all here know our places all too well. He likes me an' I like him cause I smile at hime from time to time, keep my chin held high, and pretend its all fine. Its all fine."

If Gapper was still a captain, he would have called her mad and pitied her. Yet, it wasn't pity he felt, but an understanding. Morland sadly looked at her as well, and both could not have agreed more as they ate their meal in peace until their respective masters turned in for the night. As Gapper went to the library, he would sometimes look out at the walls, and make one final push for freedom. Yet, weakness sapped him of these thoughts and surrendered into the madness he had heard and went to bed, awaiting the next day.
_

Tarlo was walking down, talking with Grof's whose lisp had improved somewhat about several matters. Tarlo had requests from both Sagan and Barbo, both wanting some supplies and replacements for their lost crew. Tarlo naturally agreed, as there were plenty of vermin and slaves who could replace dead crew to some degree until proper replacements were found. Grof had been arguing to use his special division of marines to come on the trip, all the while begging to stay behind.

"Myff injury beff quite sever, Tarloff." Grof complained, using a small trident as a crutch. Tarlo heard his bodyguard and nodded, but he was stubborn "Grof, my friend, I know your injury pains you but your rats work better under you then, well, under me. You should be resting up before we head out to Mossflower."

Grof cringed and nodded, knowing he would not be able to convince Tarlo otherwise. Tarlo stopped and so did Grof, seeing a less than pretty sight ahead. Kurgle and Pulkan Greeneyes were facing their most dreaded foe yet, their parents. Or in Pulkan's case, parent. Both looked on, with Pulkan hiding behind Kurgle who protected him from a screaming Shaer and Burba Greeneyes. Tarlo looked on curiously, by Grof stayed back from this family matter. A greeneyes quarrel ain't worth me demotion or worse, just let that lot fall dem own darn sword.

Tarlo came up, and Shaer and his wife became eerily quiet. Tarlo's uncle and aunt fixed themselves up and looked presentable, although to be more accurate, they looked overly immaculate. Shaer's fondness for golden jewelry shined far too bright, and his colorful cape of odd colors blending badly with his royal garments made him look like a performer in a circus. Tarlo was certain it was all expensive, but he didn't care much for it.

"Uncle. Aunt." Tarlo began, happily smiling to them "Is something the matter?"

"Oh. Of course not, Tarlo!" Shaer happily said, giving a pained smile "We were just having a heated argument is all. We were all in fact leaving back to the quarry, where we are most desperately needed. Isn't that right, my boy." Kurgle remained silent, but then gave a more confident smile to Tarlo who nodded back. "Oh, of course. I just hope nothing is the matter, if there is anything you need, I am here to help of course. Father is too, believe it or not, even if he is easy to anger."

Shaer's pained smile became a pained frown "Oh, of course. If I know my brother all too well. In fact, Milo wanted to give me an army myself you know? However, being the forgetful cat he is, I'd half heartedly mentioned that our new captain here should lead instead, to get some experience under me."

"Oh? Its not like father to forget his brother, and if so, I'll get it squared away."

"Oh no, Tarlo, no re-"

"I will tell father at once, please, whatever quarrel this is causing, I prefer not to see my family in such bad shape. You know?"

Shaer's pained smile returned and became this distorted thing where his teeth showed. Nearly everyone wanted to speak up, but as Tarlo left and Grof followed, their argument returned in a more silent manner.

Kurgle would have preferred to have been Milo's son then Shaer's without a second doubt in his mind. His father was always a murderous, treacherous, gnat who pulled off one bad plot after another. Kurgle didn't feel very sick being in all these tiny plots and attempted coups, but he certainly had a paw in them one way or another. Blood was important to nearly every Greeneyes except his father, who was pounding his paw with the other in rage. "You insolant dolt, how could you continue to betray me like this! You nearly died for some, what, otters? Slaves? Glory? Now you say all that dumb stuff you told Milo was a lie?! If he finds out an inkling of what really happened, he will have my guts on a plate!"

Burba came in with her own venom "Nevermind that, Maria will have our guts on a plate, that contemptible witch! Kurgle, how could you do this to us! What went so wrong!"

If there was one regret Kurgle had, it was being Shaer's 'true' son, and a tool of his many designs. If Pulkan had one regret, it would have been accidentally slipping up and telling Shaer about what really happened on Green Isle. Shaer continued to rant and rave "First it was abandoning my great plan for that, but to fail as well! I made you what you are, you inconsiderate mite infested flea bag!"

Kurgle was calm, and simply replied "It wasn't so bad, you two act like we died."

Shaer was nearly clawing at his face in fury "You almost did die, Kurgle! What, you think slaves don't fight back?! You think sea otters just line up and open their paws to accept chains on them or something!"

"I mean, no, bu-"

Burba was nearly yelling again "What?! You think just because your father's stupid plan didn't work again it gives you the right to abandon us! To go with that blood-bursted moron like Minto! How could you!"

Kurgle didn't like arguing with either of them, trying to only made them louder and more vicious. He simply stood like a statue, letting them calm down in their own time. Shaer forced them to walk with him, away from prying eyes and ears as he nearly pushed his son into a wall.

"Now listen here, brat. Our plans are in ruins cause of you and your pride. Our assets here are all disappearing, piece by piece, and one was found with his throat slit and thrown into the sea. Someone is on to us, and you best believe that whoever is out there knows what we know. You need to not only be careful, you have to help your pa. If I fall down, I am taking you and everyone else with me. You understand, Kurgle?"

Kurgle nodded in defeat as Shaer huffed and went about his business. Pulkan came close to him, wondering how out of all the Greeneyes, it was Minto who was suspicious of Shaer. He was simply glad he inherited more from his mother then his father. Pulkan turned to his half-brother and asked a rather simply question "I don't get it Kurgle, why do you support that lot. All they do is bring us trouble."

"You see little Pulkan, I can't help but agree with them." Kurgle dusted himself off. "Milo may be a rightful lord, but those vermin who left may as well all be dead. There isn't going to be a return to Mossflower, I am most certain of it. When Milo goes, Shaer will rule. When he is gone, I will rule. Tis simple like. . .like. . .Ummm. Pie. Pie, thats it."

Pulkan thought it over "An' what about Minto and Tarlo?"

"They can be my captains." Kurgle ruffled Pulkan's head playfully, but hoping he was a lot more naive then he seemed. Pulkan only nodded in agreement, much to Kurgle's delight. Less known however was a white sea otter hiding in a nearby bush, crawling under branches and dirt, listening in on the entire conversation. Lumbert kept his breath low as Kurgle left, wondering how he was going to break this new information to his mistress.
_

The day of the voyage was set, but Barbo was having his fun in the library of Sandbeach. In the personal abode, Barbo was confronted by a sad cat named Gana Stripes, Tarlo's love. Tarlo and Gana had spent much of their day in their home, enjoying their time they still had before Tarlo had to go out again, promising to return. When Tarlo was out doing something else, Gana had visited Barbo in the library, and today had brought him a new book. It was a lot heavier than the others, so she had one of the personal servants take it. Gana commanded her servant to put the book on a small reading pedestal in the library as Barbo gleamed at her "My dear miss Gana, I thank you so much for this material."

"Of course, although I find the whole thing quite droll. I'm surprised you like these old and dusty history books."

"Nothing fascinates me more than history, my dear. I thank you." Barbo gave his courteous bow to both her and her servant. He took note of the servant in his white sashed outfit, noticing some small tribal marks. He knew it well. A Rudderwake? Odd, truly the Greeneyes have been scouring the sea so maliciously. I must ask Tarlo where they found their little hideout. A little side trip to see it. Gana smiled and the two left as Barbo began to read. Barbo continued to read, and read, and read. The more he looked, the more enthralled he was, but not for the reasons he had suspected.

It was a tome he had been searching for, a Greeneyes family history. By the time Barbo knew it, he had found out he missed brunch and evening was already setting in. The door to the library opened and Sagan had come in with his sword partly drawn. Sagan looked to Barbo with relief "Oh, matey! Ya nearly gave me a heart attack, ya did. Thought ya were disappeared when I didn't see ya impressing horrified cooks wit yer eating and yer reviews."

"Slave cooks. Bah. I prefer vermin, my first mate would cook me my dinners. Slaves tend to overcook in fear of getting you sick and it makes their breads far too burnt for my liking. Not enough softness you know. Sagan, tell me, do you know much about Mossflower and his history?"

Sagan sat down on a couch, flipping through the covers of books to see if there was anything interesting to his tastes. There wasn't, most of the books was the same religious dogma of the sultanates, general histories, and beguiling tales he didn't particularly care for. "Somewhat. If i'd had to hazard a guess, Barbo. Ya sound like ya found something ya don't like to see."

"Oh no, I am fascinated by what I am reading. Do you know the tales of how the badgers and hares took Salamanderstron, and the death of Ungatt Trunn, Son of Mortspear? I mean, we all hear the tales at some point, even told many to my dear daughter. I have hundreds, Sagan, hundreds of history books in my library on this very subject. Even the Sultanates know. The scholar Zazap went to Salamanderstron once, nearly mistaken for some spy or worse, but his records are closest we have to those old stories. The battles, the glories won by the woodlanders, the epic duel and folly of Ungatt and his minions-"

"Ya ya ya, I know I know." Sagan rolled his eyes "Ya can trail off too much Barbo, is dis some better account? Ungatt's journal I bets?"

"No. I am reading a different tale entirely. Of how Ungatt Trunn defeated Lord Brocktree in the midst of the final battle in an honorable duel, how the woodlanders realized their folly and bowed to him as their master, and ruled the land peacefully till his death. Only an uprising of the hares ended vermin rule upon his death. How he took the name Ungatt Greeneyes, how his rule was iron fisted but fair. How even his lowest of slaves lived like kings, and his magical powers could blot out the stars in the sky."

Sagan raised a suspicious eyebrow "Ya pullen me leg, ain't ya mate?"

"Nay, come and look." Sagan did as bidded and looked through the tome. What Barbo said was entirely true, it was a historical record to his eyes, with all its dullness. It told a tale of Ungatt Greeneyes ruling Salamanderstron for some absurd period of time, how he slew Lord Brocktree, and then went into detail of what he did. Everything from land reform to laws were all there in the book, although that is where it made less sense. It did not mention that his brother ruled half the kingdom of Mossflower, nor mentioned some other characters. It did not mention his captains, or names which he was entirely familiar with. Most of the names that were mentioned sounded like western gibberish. In fact, nearly every name except Ungatt's was westernized, and it did roll off the tongue in Sagan's mind well.

Barbo pulled another book off the shelves, and began to read it "Oh, a historical record of Verdauga Greeneyes, this one I thought was some far flung fantasy, but now I think our dear Tarlo treats it like fact."

Sagan looked to him "Heh. Even I know dat one, der reason why Mossflower be still in Woodlander paws."

"Not according to them, look at these passages Sagan. How it recounts as if as fact that Verdauga Greeneyes died mightily in battle against hordes of hares, how wild cats had castles and roads from one end of Mossflower to another. How his daughter and son ruled co-peacefully with one another. Yet. . .no mention of one thing in particular. One thing that has eluded me."

"Dat be?"

"Where does Tarlo and his family come from?" Barbo inquired "I mean, the family always lived here, sure, but think about it. It implies our dear Tarlo is a descendent of some mighty and far flung family whose line has long since been extinguished. Yet, Mortspear is not his ancestor. Nor anyone else really of those we can remember from our tales."

"Huh. Ya think the woodlanders lied about der history? I mean, we see it in de's books, matey. I'd half a mind to believe'em."

"No, I am more then certain this isn't fact. Every page, every sentence in these books are lies through and through. That one on top, with the orange bindings? That one is more recently written, about Green Isle. How the Felis reign over them technically never ended, how the otters lived contently as thralls to wildcats and only a hare and his protege who so happened to be Tiria Wildlough had falsely slew the last lords of the isles and committed atrocities against their own people and purged the cats of the isle. If you know anything, my good friend, if I recounted such a tale to you, you'd call me mad."

"I would." Sagan looked around at all the book, unsure of why the wildcats filled their library with all these false stories and myths. "Why then? Ya are sure these are all myths, matey. Ya sound like as if you imply dey all live in a delusion."

"I mean really, Sagan, don't you? Don't we all?"

"No bein 'phofical in me presence, stout." Sagan retreated his sentence. Barbo smiled and put the book down.

"History is not about fact or lie, it is what is written and not. What we see in these pages is most certainly a lie, and we know it, but yet the wildcats and all those who read in this library believe it to be the utter truth. They need to tell themselves they were good rulers, that they are coming to bring order and justice to their families. It is their mark, their desire, and they needed to write a history to make it so that creatures like Tarlo and family fulfilled a dream long thought dead. It's beautiful, Sagan, all these myths could become fact if our dear Tarlo and his father wins. Doesn't matter who was right or wrong, only who is left to write down what happened. That is what I dream of, Sagan, an immortality such as this. Not some box in the sky to bring us to conscious paradise, but a true immortality. To live in the hearts and minds for all eternity, thought by both friend and foe alike. When I pass, I imagine my daughter will have her own children and they will have their mother's eyes. They will see the true beauty of fantasy, and stories like these will become the new facts, and the stories our parents told us become the myths."

Sagan didn't like thinking hard about it and simply nodded his head in agreement. "I suppose dat explains his go-lucky superiority complex, eh?"

"Tarlo's?"

"Ya, an' all of dem really."

Barbo chuckled "I suppose it does, but it does give a new perspective doesn't it. Think Sagan, if you live amongst a crew of foxes who told you all your life that you are by nature superior to rule others like slaves, you would end up in a similar stature to Tarlo. However, what is yet so fascinating is that the wildcat is so kind, gentle even, at least by his family's standards. He is the exception, not the rule."

"That be why I like'em I thinks. He'd be better in me crew, or even yers."

"That we can agree on. Now lets head off to bed. Perhaps it is our paws that will turn these myths into facts when all is said and done, a worthy goal for the maker of history such as myself."


Tarlo was getting ready to headout, his head held high as he walked down the streets of Sandbeach with Morland and Grof at his side. His trident was held in paw as he headed down the street. As he found his way onto the docks of Sandbeach, he had requested several things. His first was that the prisoners he had brought would be gathered for a short meeting, and that Grof's marines would be ready to march out to meet him. Tarlo made his appearance, watching as Sagan was commanding his crew about, getting them ready for their voyage to Mossflower. Plans had been set, and only Barbo and Penolpe would be late. When Tarlo was on the docks themselves, he looked upon the familiar faces of several sea otters who spent their first days on Sandbeach, their soulless and dejected looks all too familiar to Morland. Tarlo came over to give them a resounding speech, a reward for their continued silence. Tarlo had no worries that the otter would tell his father the truth, and even if they did, he and Minto would be far from Sandbeach.

The group was shackled, but not together, dirt covered them and various scars were across their faces and backs. Those who were not in some kind of pain were jittering messes. They looked up at Tarlo weakly.

"Now." Tarlo said in a hushed tone "I would like to thank all of you for keeping your silence, and as you know, we Greeneyes keep our word. For your efforts, I would like to offer a much better reward than you already had in your work amongst my father's loyal servants. Although I am certain it may not feel like it, I can only guarantee you that your freedom from the bonds of ignorance starts here on Sandbeach, when my father finally returns to your island you all will help reclaim your work and your time. I have instructed your taskmasters to give you extra rations from here on out, and It will remain so unless my father hears of the incident at sea. I am certain you are already grateful for being on Sandbeach, and that you will break the spiritual bonds of not serving your betters in due time! Perhaps even faster than most!" Tarlo said with a happy and uplifting smile. The reaction however was not one he was used to.

The sailors looked dumbfounded, and even Morland was a bit shocked. He expects us to be grateful for being here?! Oh seasons, what kind of maddening land did I get dragged into? It never really occurred to Morland how much Tarlo really believed in his superiority, but then some things began to make a lot more sense. Tarlo didn't see beasts in chains, he saw brainwashed slaves who needed to be prodded to be as broken as Morma was. The thought terrified him, and the others. This was Tarlo's mercy, it seemed.

There was silence. Although none had expected quick freedom, they had expected something better than to return to being laborers under the lashes of their new masters. Tarlo felt a bit sad and muttered silently to himself, although most of the new slaves could hear him. "Or perhaps it may take a little longer."

Tarlo tapped his trident and the slave's taskmaster took them back to the hovels and slums. Tarlo looked sadly at them, not understanding he only simply wished to free them not of their physical bonds, but the bonds which held them back from embracing his father's righteous cause. Yet, he perked up to happiness again as his wife Gana came under bodyguard to her husband's deployment. Gana came close and embraced Tarlo, and Tarlo hugged her back in kind. The two nestled each other, and purred.

"Oh, Tarlo! I pray that you would not leave, my sweet plum. If I can, I would come with you, away from this place to be by your side."

"I wish I could bring you as well, Gana, but where I tread danger follows. I wish you nothing but comfort. I will return, I promise you that me sweet."

Gana kissed Tarlo on the cheek, and then in the mouth. When the two were done with their loving embrace, Tarlo took heart and left for the Black Sea Plow. Morland and Grof followed, with Gana waving to her husband in kind. Tarlo raised his trident as the Black Sea Plow loosed its moring and began to drift into the sea, slowing and circling to await the launching of the Holy Reckoning.
_

Canton was starting to really understand the horrible and evil mistake Tarlo had made in sparing his crew, and sparing him in general. As Canton smashed a rusty pick into a chunk of dirt on the side of a cliff, his breath slowed to a near crawl as the sad chant of his kin swirled around. The worker crews worked up a working song, which amused their overseers who allowed it to be sung in kind.

Put yer back in the swing

Break an toil till ya bleed

Keep at it till ya drop

Cause it ain't gonna stop

Sweat an' sun stick to us

Keep yer head low till the break of day

Or be dumped in der grave

The morbid song was perhaps the only good thing the wildcats allowed, for at least there was a rhythm their cruel taskmasters would allow. Canton hated it. It wasn't a sea otter song, it was an abomination. Every hour of every day, he felt his body and soul leaving him, but yet he kept on. Many of the sea otters were watching him, and the burden of their stares wared him down far more than any whip that Penolpe or the overseer could wield.

Canton spent several days in the work crew, his jobs went from lifting heavy stone blocks several feet up to breaking away parts of the hill to prepare for the wall's fortifications. His first day wore him down, and the lashes to his back and face had hurt far more than suspected. Rumors were abound about the work camp those first few days, but when Canton was thrown into a slave quarter at night, he and his former sailors had confirmed it. Rather than bringing hope, he brought a horrible despair to the slaves of Sandbeach. Not even the son of Sarlo Wildlough was safe from the gluttonous raids of the pirates, and now he was just another cog in the machine meant to keep their lives in perpetual misery. He did not sleep that first night, nursing himself. Some offered what little they had; blankets, pillows, even food. Canton rejected them all. It wasn't that he wanted their help, he wanted to give his people hope in their darkest of days. Yet, he floundered.

A lot.

Penople had made sure he felt every humiliation, indignity, and painful misery one could inflict on him in the most passive tone possible. When Canton went to go get water, she had 'bumped' into the trough and tumbled it off the cliff, forcing the work crews to work an entire day without it. When Canton asked to relieve himself, she suggested that he simply went while he worked. Whenever he stopped for even a moment, she or the taskmaster would whip his back. His first day he lost his shirt and did not have another. She made sure none went to far with him, but she knew full well what she was doing. The cruel stout maid had made sure Canton was miserably physically.

Yet her greatest cruelty was mentally. When Canton struck up a brief friendship with one fellow prisoner whom he worked alongside, he would find out that Penople had sentenced him to a long and painful demise right in front of Canton's eyes. The poor creature was worked to death, even as he dropped from exhaustion, his guards would not stop to beat him despite Canton's pleas for mercy. Several times, Canton was ordered by Penolpe to her side, dragged to her under pain of the lash. She had ordered him to flip a page, or bring a cool glass of wine to her lips, or even to fan her. Each time, he lashed out, and each time Penolpe would take her vengeance in some way or another. Each one far worse than the last. Canton broke down, several times both in front of his fellow otters and in the privacy of the barracks he was thrown in every night.

He could not stand it, he wanted to throw himself from the cliffs, but each time was stopped by his sheer exhaustion. Whenever a far younger otter slowly trudged by with a bucket of rocks or some water to aid their parents, Canton's heart broke more inside. Every day, another slave was felled by either the lash or worse. This work was killing them, a slow and painful death of the worst kind. Yet even death was undignified, as the wildcats would simply launch the bodies into the sea or gather them up and dump them elsewhere. No burial, and no time to mourn. Monsters. All of them. Monsters.

He kept pounding a pick at rocks, his chains continued to chafe his arms and feet as they grew hot in the beating sun. However, an all too familiar voice came from behind him, as Barbo Senger whimsically looked him over.

"I must say, not half bad work, my dear daughter. Although, some of those lashes do look infected."

"They are, but I am reassured by the wildcats that he was given medicine to deal with it. If not, we have our own."

Canton was turned around forcefully by Barbo who looked him over, looking into his weak eyes whose fire felt burnt out. Barbo was rather satisfied and came close to him "Now is the time to go, little princeling. You will be joining me on the Holy Reckoning and on our journey to Mossflower. Tarlo sounds like he has plans for you, but to tell you the truth, so do I."

Canton gave a valiant and last ditch sneer. "You won't break me, none of ya will. I am Canton Wildlough, son of Sarlo, king of Green Isl-" Canton coughed and gagged, his body aching in pain. "I will not be broken, cannot."

Barbo grasped Canton's shoulder "Oh my dear Canton, I am so happy that you are not broken so easily! You see my dear princeling, as I have come to figure out, our dear Tarlo thinks he is helping you by giving you a chance to free yourself. Free from the ideas of freedom itself. It's quite a funny concept if you really think hard on it, but do pay attention, for this is important! You not breaking is really good for me, it shows that perhaps it is my touch that needs to be used to help you see what Tarlo sees."

Canton's eyes widened with what strength he had left, whimpering with utter confusion and dismay. Barbo continued, twisting a worded knife into Canton's spiritual heart. "To think of it, if you will, you are the block of marble and I the sculptor. My friend, you will become a masterpiece like no others, one of my finest creations! Now, come along, time to head out little princeling." Barbo grabbed the scruff of Canton's neck, dragging him along. Penople forced him to drop his pick as Canton tried to remain strong and brave to others. Yet, their faces of pity and hopelessness overwhelmed him. His eyes began to become a well, as he realized his wild ride had only just begun.