Redwall: War of the Four Banners

by PepperDeadSworn

"Young as autumn, old as summer, from sea to forest the cries of war shall come Four armies, one outcome, in ruin you shall find the truth Look to the place of my rest, for friend shall be foe, and foe shall be friend." A epic tale of Redwall in which four great factions battle for the fate of Mossflower itself.

11. A Hell on Earth if you will'

Chapter 10: 'A Hell on Earth if you will'

Minto stood on the edge of the Pike's Revenge, admiring his new found wounds, as the sight of home came into view, it had been a few days, but at long last, he stared with his eyes pridefully at his home, the grand fortress Sandbeach Isle. Sandbeach is a far western isle, but it is large and unique. It was an island where the first wild cat conquerors would settle, reusing an old fortress which was expanded on in later years. The Greeneyes first settled the island, using it as a staging point to invade into the Mossflower region, the Blue Hordes used to settle along the shores and built homes. The Felis family found the fortress many years later when the Greeneyes left for conquest and never returned, temporarily settling on the island before heading to Green Isle.

The island is separated into three general areas, with a large sandy beach with two smaller islands connected via shallows. One of the islands is rocky and hilly, where a quarry had been set up to provide the island with basic stone materials, while the other island was forested, providing the island with much of its wood. Both were crucial for trade with the western vermin, who traded the materials for food and iron. It was a neat setup, all except for the fact both resource producing settlements on those isles were run entirely by slaves, overseen by the cats themselves who kept them under a very short leash.

Sandbeach itself was several layers, a distant land with sandstone walls covering each section of the vermin city. On the top of this city was a great palace of marble and stone, built many years ago by the cats themselves and added too over the years. It was the very definition of decadence to the vermin, and a great reminder of tyranny for everyone else. It was a strange thing to look at, a western structure which had many open courtyards and fountains. It was surrounded by an intricate white wall, but was circled by a grand garden. Below this palace was the civilian quarter, where the families of the cats worked, along with their skilled craftsbeasts, and below that quarter was the foreign quarter. The foreign quarter was a mix of barracks and homes, mostly made up of vermin who were not cats, the servants of them more like, mostly filled with pirates and western vermin families. Then there were the docks and the slave hovels which laid outside the walls. The slave quarter surrounded the city, and remained the least guarded, as the slaves knew they had very little place to go, trapped and lost on the isle itself.

Very few in the east knew of this place, but it was a powerful dark mark of the vermin, and it was here where the remains of a dead dynasty sailed to. Minto always remembered his grandfather's stories, how the mighty pair of brothers led their armies out into Mossflower to conquer, and how through betrayal and troubles they failed. Minto smelled the fresh air of sea salt, as vermin pirates came into the grand harbor of Sandbeach. Yet his mood immediately soured, seeing another ship already docked in harbor, a mighty war vessel of a strange looking galley. It was massive, with a covered cloth roof and larger than normal oars, bearing a black and white flag from a distant land. It had a large upward cabin for its captain and was made of a foreign and lighter wood. It was the ship of his brother, and Minto had no wish to see him.
_

Morland had sat with the rest of the otter slaves in the transport, all shackled together. Some cursed their situation with abandon, others pleading to the seasons to protect them. Morland only sat there, trying to get comfortable in the weights which drove him to misery. They had been at sea for what felt like seasons, mostly in darkness, the only light coming from a guard with food who barely fed them or carried out dead bodies to throw overboard. Most sat uncomfortably in the transport ship, with most of the youngsters not understanding what was going on, and their parents trying desperately to put a good spin on the whole situation. Morland was asked by a shrew next to him, a once former merchant's son.

"You have any clue where they are takin us, sea dog? The waters be feelin they be taken us west."

Morland could only shake his head, uncertain. However, as the transport ship began to slow and lower its anchor, they realized they arrived at their destination. The cats descended on the prisoners, bringing them up and ordering them into lines and marched them off the ship, harshly tugging at the chain lead. As Morland found himself being pulled to shore, his head facing downward in dejection, and to protect himself from overzealous taskmasters who looked on with unfurled whips, he glanced around at his new surroundings. Morland and the others couldn't help but be shocked, seeing such a vermin city of size and import. Yet, as Morland looked around, he began to realize how doomed his new position was.

Several slaves were unloading off boxes, struggling with large shipments of food from an unknown land, bought from merchants. Most wore only tattered pants, with their backs showing visible signs of whip marks, and looking weakened from forced starvation and beatings. They were barely alive as it was, exhausted to a point, but alive regardless. They were a miserable but diverse lot, but most were various otters of the isles. The newer ones came from the destroyed Green Isle colonies or from Green Isle itself, freshly captured and struggling to do as their masters bid. A pair of mice, looking like northerners, however intrigued Morland. The slavers must have been raiding. . .or buying slaves from the far northern highlands.

As the slaves passed on however, Minto was swiftly making his way up the line as Morland could see another line making their way off the docks. They were just as strange as the city itself, grayish cats who were not only very tall, but had light armor and covered in domed hats and wielding tall spears, sabres, and slings. They marched expertly in line, speaking in a language that neither Morland nor Minto particularly understood, but most looked fairly fresh and young. Morland returned his head to the slave line, as they were pulled more into the city, as Minto Greeneyes looked at the new soldiers.

"You there, soldier, where is your damn commander." Minto ordered on the soldiers. Minto would have been looking for his brother personally, but his elder brother was difficult to pin. The soldier gave him a confused look, and gave him a thickly accented answer.

"Me yurd, ez great coummander be az et end of et docks." The soldier pointed, with an all too familiar wild cat looking over proudly at his soldiers. Both soldiers and slaves were being marched into the city and up the quarters, gifts for their father. Both the slaves and gray cats gave each other glances of curiosity towards one another, neither having seen each other before, but both looking at one another with a clear disgust.

Minto came over to a large and beautiful wild cat, with a silver cloak. The cat may have been older then him, but he had looked younger and more calm. His armor was shined in silver, his fur completely groomed and clean, and his helm plumed with exotic feathers. His bright green eyes turned to his brother, both wild cats wielding their tridents. The older brother gave a humble bow and welcomed him home "Just on time, my good Minto. I was actually getting worried you would have been late. I see your raiding has gone well."

"Enough of your soft words, Tarlo. Where did you even find this lot anyhow! They speak like far western cats, to be certain."

Tarlo smiled "You wouldn't believe it, but I found them half starved and abandoned in a small fortress on a large tropical island further down the western coasts. I was following a lead that Gashan gave me, looking for more pirates to rope into father's cause. I found the lot had been held up in an old fort, and were fairly half starved before I fed them. We got attacked by rogue pirates and were nearly defeated, sinking our traveling vessel too, but with some help we were able to fix up their old galley and row on out. We even defeated the sea rats chasing after us."

Minto nitpicked his brother's story "So you abandoned your mission, eh? Lost one of father's ships as well? Quite irresponsible if you ask me."

Tarlo looked behind Minto at his own damaged fleet, as Gashan and his crew began to look over their damaged ship. Tarlo's smile only widened "Quite, how about this brother. You lay off telling father about all that, and I won't mention the few missing vessels. Why don't you tell me what happened along the way."

Minto shoved his brother aside and angrily began stepping away. Tarlo could only give a sigh of displeasement. He followed upward toward their father's palace.
_

Morland looked about, with the disappointed and depressed look of various slaves, some coming from Green Isle, others from other lands, giving his group a chilling look. Yet, what had made Morland surprised was the number of vermin slaves abound in the city as well. Many were Mossflower rats. He spotted one weasel who was at a smithy, with whip marks to his back, helping a free vermin build weapons. He wore an interesting and tattered black pair of pants, which were well worn, and were well armored. Morland had learned of these vermin, and knew that not even the black clad vermin of Kasg the Craven's horde were safe. It was clear who was in charge of this place, and it wasn't vermin, it was the cats. Several taunting feral cat children watched from heights above, and soon both the foreign soldiers and the slave were entering into the palace compound.

Opening an intricate wooden gate, well armored guards in green cloaks stood at attention as Minto and Tarlo led their processions inside. The floor was well cleaned, with the bright sun looking overhead as both groups passed through rows of well tended gardens. The soldiers were in utter joyful amazement at the prospects of serving a new and successful warlord, while Morland cringed to see several slaves in white sashes and clean clothes tending to the garden with fearful diligence. The group was led further into the compound as Tarlo and Minto stopped their groups to give a fair warning of expectation.

"My friends and soldiers, my father Milo is a proud wild cat from a strong line such as mine. Strong and noble blood runs through his veins, and he will give you comfort in his realm, but only if you kneel and serve him. You will be expected to do as he bids, and those who wish to leave now must do so before we enter."

"You will kneel before your rightful masters, you miserable slaves, and if I see any single one of you who even thinks of standing up and yelling some proud speech will receive more than a lash. I will personally flay alive the first creature who steps out of line."

The group entered, coming into a great marble court with sandstone pillars, decorated with the images of proud lions and gulls. The windows may have been wooden, but they were well decorated in symbols and shapes, with calligraphy in various languages filling the hall. The ceiling was a dome, wooden and painted with the images and symbols of two families, recently painted. Morland couldn't help but look up and his eyes widened with fright, seeing the ancient tyrant Riggu Felis painted in a heroic caricature. He had no idea what it meant, but several otter figures in the picture bowing before him made him shiver. At the far end of the room sat two thrones made of marble but only one was filled.

A singular wild cat female sat facing the otters, her head placed with a silver diadem looking proudly at the two wild cat brothers. Tarlo addressed her to the crowd "Mother, we have come bearing gifts for the horde and searching father's approval. I. . I had suspected him to actually be here by now."

"My dear son. Your father is late because he is finishing up his meetings and sending out his messages. My son. . ." The lady cat frowned, looking more closely at her son, his face disfigured and beaten. She came over and angrily sneered, touching his face "Minto, you daft fool, what beast did this to you?! Was it one of these slaves! I will have the beast flayed here and no-"

"Nay mother, I have great news to grant to father. Twas a badger who did this to me, but not before I disfigured another! I saw them, momma. I saw the badger lord of Salamandastron with my own two eyes! I nearly slew him!"

The lady cat looked wide eyed and sank her eyes, cleaning her son's face harshly "News indeed! Did not father tell you to leave them alone? His orders were too-"

"What Minto forgot to say dear mother, was that he wasn't personally going off to challenge the badger lord, they came to him, while he hunted."

Minto sneered at his brother. He didn't like his stories being ruined by Tarlo, even when his all too perfect brother tried to protect him. Tarlo gave a weak smile and shrug as their mother continued to wipe his face "You will see a nurse for this, my son! You will see them now and get healed, and rest!"

Just then, a smaller cat came into the room and began to announce to the two groups. The gray foreign cats looked on in pride and anxiety, while the slaves hugged each other in fear, their shaking causing their shackles to clink. The cat announced the presence of the lord of Sandbeach's coming, yelling loudly and proudly to the group.

"All who have come to bear witness to his highness and exalted one! Emperor of Sandbeach Isle, King of the Green Eyed Horde, Lord over All Vermin, Master of All Slaves, Usurper of the Throne to be, and Destroyer of the enemies of Two Families! Milo Greeneyes, Sultan and Lord!"

A cat and several others entered the court, a large and fearsome warlord in a green cape, with a white and green silk. He was an aged beast, but yet still youthful and filled with vigor as he strode confidently about. He wore a crown of orange and green gemstones, and a royal collar adorned his chest of beaten gold. Milo's sons took their places next to their would be gifts as both slave and warrior looked on in awe. Morland lazily turned his attention to others who entered. One was a fat and bumbling creature, in much the same royal garb who took his place at the side of Milo's wife, two were wild cats which gave approving glances at both Tarlo and Minto, a well armored rat who obediently placed himself at the side of Milo with a large spear, and a dormouse who followed behind the whole group, wearing a white sash and standing behind the throne itself. Milo peered with his eyes around the room and began to speak.

"Ah, my valiant sons return un-" He stopped, looking straight at Minto and seeing his disfigurement. Milo had to pause and re collect himself "Mostly unharmed. I understand fully I send you both out into the midst of danger, fully expecting you not to ever return, but yet both of you time and time again come back with gifts to not only me, but to our great cause. I see that one of you is injured, and that smirk is one of pride is it not Minto."

Minto came forward and eagerly was boasting "It is! I have challenged a badger lord and lived, my father, and made him flee with his life!"

Milo was silent at first and bounded upward. He angrily called out his son "You dare go against my directives, you brat! I send you to raid otter settlements, and you tell me you are risking my plans by revealing our hands to our ancient enemies!"

"Nay, father! They came to me." Minto could read his father's expression, and his mother's. He wanted the glory of facing and surviving a badger lord, but knew perhaps a sprinkle of truth wouldn't get him in much trouble. Milo calmed himself and spoke out "I see, they grow suspicious of the raids then. Our attacks on Green Isle itself have not been unseen it seems, yet it does not matter. Our warriors are all nearly ready to strike at my command."

Morland did not understand what was going on. Were these cretans planning to invade Mossflower? Take on the Long Patrol? Green Isle? By me rudder, anywhere but Green Isle!

Milo stood up, swaggering over to his favored son Tarlo. Compared to the two cats, the differences in appearance between both Tarlo and Minto were night and day. Tarlo was clean, well groomed, and stood at a humble attention as his father approached. As the cat tyrant came to look over his new stock, a taskmaster in the back of the room unfurled his whip and cracked it with a loud and thunderous lash. "Bow to the Lord of All Vermin, and Master of All Slaves! Kneel!" The foreign warriors kneeled and the slaves slowly approached the floor and groveled. The older otters were the slowest, their eyes angrily pacing but had only obeyed as to not cause trouble for their younger members of their families. The room was desensitized to the harshness, as Milo began to examine his son's catch.

"My son, Tarlo. Apple of the eyes of my horde, and shining gem of my crown. Heir to all of what I and your grandfather had built, you yet impress me once again. I send you out to find pirate scum to swear their lives to my cause, and you bring me these obedient an foreign cats from the west! I recognize them, they come from the far southern shores, where domed temples and sandstone castles stand erect against the shore, where our peoples first began to flee from in their wake." Milo put his paw to the jaw of one of the soldiers raising him up to examine him. He ran his paw through his teeth awkwardly, as if he were a slave himself, looking for a reaction. The soldier has known, but was creeped out for it. Once he was done, the soldier returned to kneeling.

"Very impressive, obedient and well trained! Well armored too, they will make good soldiers for my growing armies. Now listen, my soldiers. I will demand your fealty to me and to me alone, all other loyalties you have is null and void before my presence! I am Milo, Emperor of the Green Eyed Horde, and your lord. Serve me, and serve me well, and you will have new homes in a beautiful forest! You will have food from the tables of kings, weapons forged for warriors, and slaves a plenty to tend to your needs my fellow cats! Serve me and swear to me, and you shall have more than you could ever desire."

The gray cats swore to Milo on the spot, a twinge of pride coming over him. He turned to Tarlo, pleased at what he was brought. Tarlo wanted to speak up it seemed, tell him the whole story, but Milo had already made up his mind and his own story in his head. Nothing but a valiant effort of domination and battle would please him. He then turned his attention to Minto, his once confidant smile slowly becoming an annoyed frown. If Tarlo was the apple in the eyes of his father, Minto was the scrap he fed to warriors if he was feeling generous. Minto was gruff, his face now valiantly disfigured, and smelled of sea salt. He may have been a good warrior, and slightly competent, but he was brash and rude.

"My son, Minto, once again I see your raids are successful, and you bring a strong lot of work beasts and slaves to serve my horde. Your encounter with the badger, will you tell us more of it?"

Minto went into a long and villainous rant "Aye, of course my Emperor! We were studying toward the least defended colonies of Green Isle as you commanded, ever since my last raids on Green Isle you said were 'brash' and 'reckless'. So I decided to play it safer, brought a larger host of pirates and corsairs with me on my raiding. By the gods, five whole ships of the Long Patrol were there to greet us! Five whole ships, bristling with Hares and the Badger Lord himself. Along with several others. I slashed him across the face with my trident, but his wretched pup chased me off before I could finish him off!"

A rare tingle of pride washed over Milo, but was swiftly filled in with pragmatic questions "And per say, my son, did the battle go well?"

Minto could see already his father was disappointed. He relented and gritted his fangs "Nay. The Hares escaped and sunk several of our ships. We killed many, but they. . .they killed more of us."

"A shame that all this glory was for not then. Tis a good thing you gave the badger lord a reason to look into our presence which your grandfather and I spent many seasons keeping secret as we prepared for our campaign. They had not even known we existed until you fought them. However, I cannot stay mad at you my boy, your. . .scars. . .will teach you this harsh lesson. We shall discuss these issues later." Minto turned his attention to the kneeling otters and shrews before them, many were disheartened and fearful in his presence.

"I am Milo, and as much as I am Lord of All Vermin, I am also Master of All Slaves. You will be work beasts for my horde and live in my realm, working diligently as you build up my fortresses, and toil in the presence of your masters. I see many of you are otters who descend from Green Isle, and many of you mewling scum have seen I am certain loved ones and friends working in Sandbeach. I am here to tell you now, you will swear yourselves as slaves to my horde, or under pain of death you will perish."

The slaves did not move or speak, until one older sea otter in the front, began to speak up. "We do not serve the likes of ya, Emperor o' Misery, Tyrant of Sandbelch, Master of All but yer own hairballs! We are proud beasts, an' free beasts! We will die like em' as well!"

Dying didn't really sound like a bad idea right now, at least, that is what Morland could think. He saw the horrors around him, the soulless dejection of miserable gentle beasts working without thanks, their only payment was in beatings and lashes for not working fast enough. However, Milo only gave an agreeable grunt and beckoned the lady cat on the throne to her side. She stood and the two hovered over the rebellious elder.

"I see a fire in your eyes, old beast." The lady cat began "I am Lady Maria Greeneyes, but you may know me as Maria Felis, otter." There was shock from the otters in the crowd, and a rather sudden realization. The Felis yet lived, and they were all staring at one. She hatefully looked at the elder and made a final demand "You have spirit elder, let me guess. A Wildlough?"

"Nay, Galedeep ye wretched lass."

She grunted "Hmph. I can forgive a slave of their ignorance and their spirit, especially once it breaks. Kiss my signet ring, otter, and I will not have you lashed."

The group watched on as the elder looked up in anger. He pulled his head forward to Maria's extended paw, with a single orange ring on it with a golden depiction of the Felis crest. However, he jerked his head forward to viciously bite the hand instead, but wasn't quick enough. Maria had pulled back her paw swiftly, and his head was soon in the grasp of Milo. Minto came over with a trident in paw, ready to strike down the elder.

"I shall deal with this lot personally father! I'll have them decimated, guards get me a good axe!"

"Nay my son." Milo smiled, choking the shackled elder in his paw. He squeezed as one of the family members next to him begged "Please my lord! Spare him! My father didn't mean to! Please."

Milo continued to choke the elder as he stared down with a cruel smile. With a sudden jerk of his wrist he snapped the otter's neck as he fell to the floor, those who were close to him scrambled and mourned him. Milo looked to the group who looked on in fear "Death comes to those who do not serve, and you shall all serve, or face a far worse fate. I can have you all boiled alive, as you listen to your youngest boil and burn. Now get this lot processed captain. Be sure to treat them harshly, and drain the spirit from them." Morland and the others were dragged away, giving a last cautionary glance as the dead elder was dragged off to be buried elsewhere. The group did not resist, fearing the tyrant would keep his word.

---

Milo practically dragged his son Minto through open doors of his palace, cursing him as he went "You fool boy! I send you out to collect slaves, not fight badgers! Was your attack on Green Isle not enough to sate your glory mongering!"

Milo was flanked by his sons, with Minto and Tarlo trudging behind. They entered into one the palace's massive gardens, with a central pool. Several slaves hurryingly moved aside as their master stomped about, his paws clasped behind his back in anger, and thinking. Minto wasn't particularly afraid of his father, but he commanded his eternal respect, as Tarlo looked a bit more worried. His father had a terrible temper, and the murder in the throne room was the least of the concerns for the recent arrivals. He had once watched his father make a well ordered speech to a group of newly arrived slaves from a captured merchant ship from Southward, and when one of the crew had spoken back to him, he beat the poor creature to death in front of his terrified comrades.

"I said the truth father, I take your word quite seriously, do I not?" Minto yawned, but soon shut himself when his father stopped and gave him an angry glance, snarling "If you were even a single ounce of the wild cat you should be, you would have swiftly retreated! I and your grandfather, our sire, and bless his poor soul for leaving us, spent many long nights planning for our return to Mossflower. The forest belongs to us by right, and I will not have that dreamed soiled by the like of you! Now come, Gashan is waiting for us."

"We do not wait on the likes of Gashan." Minto reminded his father. Milo turned, grunting, having enough of his wayward son. He is right. I wait on no one but myself, but a little humility and soft words has made Gashan ever so obedient.

The three entered into Milo's main office, a large room almost as beautiful and as ornate as his throne room, with a large selection of books, maps, and reports. His desk was covered in scraps of food and wine stains, where in many sleepless nights he and his own father would plan out their invasion of Mossflower. Milo was the breed of many strong warriors, but his family line was odd. Mortspear may have led his sons across the sea to the east for conquest, but he left behind others of his family, and from those descendents was where Milo sprung from. It felt like an age when his ancient father Margos had personally related the tales of his heritage, and were the heirs to a mighty land instead of a small island. Milo may have ruled a mighty vermin stronghold, tended to many slaves, and lived in a great palace, but his dreams had matched those of his elder. To rule a land as king and tyrant of a barbarian peoples, to dominate and found a land for his family to rule from this age into the end of ages.

Milo sat at his desk, noticing the lack of smell of grog and sea salt. Minto may have partly cleaned himself recently, but it didn't distract him from the fact Gashan was once again very late. The weasel eventually would swagger in, a tankard in paw and saluting his master with a mocking gaze. Next to him however came a dormouse maid, wearing a clean slave's clothes and a white sash around her belt. Milo smiled, his personal servant gave a fearful bow.

"My master, Milo. I am sorry! He insisted coming in with his drink an-" Milo raised his paw to silence her "Do not apologize, Morma. Be off with you and bring us all some good drinks. Bring milk and cheese, if you would." Morma was off, bounding out as Gashan gave a wicked smile at the scene. Morma had been a gift to Milo when he was younger, the dormouse had personally served him since he was a young and foolish kitten, and had served him well.

"Heh, I guess yer black heart be softening, me lord?" Gashan took a swig. Gashan may not have looked it, but he was the most respected authority on the open seas of the pirates and corsairs who came out of the south and west. Pirates don't exactly have kings or emperors, but they did have those who spoke on their behalf. Gashan's personal fleet was not exactly his own design, but a dream cooked up by Milo himself, which he was swift to remind the pirate.

"When I first found you, Gashan, you were but a young, whipped weasel who broke his shackled oar over the face of a pirate captain, claiming your place on a ship. If I didn't soften to creatures who served me well, I would have executed that day and left you hanging in the port. Yet, I did not."

Gashan remembered. It was a risky and stupid raid, which nearly saw his pirate career put to an end. He attempted to raid Sandbeach and was captured. The previous lord of the isle wanted him hanged as a reminder to the pirate scum to keep their distance, but Milo had other ideas. He offered Gashan his freedom, he offered him supplies, ships, slaves, and even a nice summer home for him to store all his ill gotten gains. All in return for his very soul, a pirate who bent a knee to the wild cat. It was a good deal, but it still disgusted him.

"Ye did not. As yer son be sayin I am certain, we faced the badger lord in battle. It did not go well. Me damn ship was cracked an' battered and Adam Waterblow that wretch be commandin like a mad beast. They sunk two of our war galleys and several other smaller vessels, an' even captured one."

"I don't understand why we put our faith in this sea scum, father." Minto angrily spat, but Gashan flinged back "Ye should keep yer damn mouth shut, Minto. Yer little angry streak of plannin caused this mess to begin with."

"Did not!"

"Be silent the both of you, for clearly you both had the dull brains to lose so many fine ships! Consider yourself lucky to be of my brood, my boy." Minto silenced himself as Milo continued "Gashan, how can we expect to rule Mossflower if such battles that take place result in such swift death. One of my distant ancestors held a great blue painted horde and found better success!"

"That be what I be thinkin as well, matey. The hares be clever, but not invulnerable. We need more finer allies then the ones ya been bringin. I got some ideas, brought one or two as well to yer door. I think ya may even like this one, boss."
_

Maria Felis preferred her birth name, as she came into her room in the keep. She wasn't very happy as she began to undress her favorite jewelry and push them into a lockbox and began to dress in more comfortable clothing. She was alone in her room, although she did demand company to accompany her. Maria lived in the lap of luxury she had never known, but felt more alone than ever. Her bumbling brother, the last true Felis alive, was away on business. The fat, docile, dope would rather spend his life reading reports and commanding vermin about collecting taxes and making sure the other settlements on the isle always produced enough things for trade. Maria remembered the 'better' times when her family were stuck on another isle in the north sea, her father having built a cabin for their family. When Milo's father found the isle, searching for her family in particular after having heard of the surviving Felis line lollygagging on some island in the north sea, the arrangement was made whether her father said yes or no.

She had at first hated all the flair her husband brought her, the petty arguments, the attempts at him to play the cruel romantic, followed up his complete refusal to continue playing games with her when her daughter was born. Yet, the tales her father once spun in her mind returned. She had never seen Green Isle, but she thought often of it. She imagined herself ruling it with an iron paw with a velvet glove. Milo may rule his Green Eyed horde, but she would see herself rule Green Isle. Returning the land to a state which it should have never left from. Ruled by a Felis.

Maria was interrupted from her brooding by the crack of her room's door. A single white head peaked out with sorrowful red eyes. She scowled at the creature "Come in Lumbert and close the door swiftly, I am in no mood for your cowering."

A pure white otter entered into the room and shifted himself uncomfortably, bending his head low. He wore a white slave's habit and had very slick fur, with a white handkerchief on his neck. Lumbert used to be a common fisher, an albino from Green Isle who was captured fairly early in Milo's prodding at the isle's fishing lanes and merchant vessels. His fur and eyes intrigued Maria who brought him up as her personal servant, but Lumbert was (rightfully) mortally terrified of her. He spoke cautiously. "My lady, Maria Gre-" He stopped himself and quickly relented. "I'm sorry mistress Maria Felis! I'm sorry, I should have. . .I'm. . ." Maria silenced him with a raised paw "You are forgiven, slave." Lumbert would often pause in mortal fear of her and could repeat his 'sorry' phase for hours. On any other day, she would have been amused as Lumbert continued.

"My lady Maria Felis, I was talking with the other gardeners as you asked. They saw your husband waltzing into his office with your sons. Gashan also came by as well."

"And did you listen in on their conversation, my eyes and ears?" Lumbert looked rather shameful, fiddling his paws in a desperate and begging manner "I. . .I didn't get the full story, my lady. I am so sorry! All I heard while I was listening through the peephole in the garden was that Minto suffered some horrific defeat, and Gashan saying something about bringing in new and better recruits. I thought I caught a name, but. . but. . .I. . ." Maria snarled at him "Useless, otter! You best spit something out, before I send you to the mines!"

Maria was about ready to unleash her hellish wrath on the poor creature who got face down on the ground, readying himself to be struck as he blurted out "Some creature named Black! That is all I heard!"

Maria relented, a bit confused. Lumbert may have been a bumbling insult of a gift of a personal servant, but he did have his uses, which is why Maria bothered with him at all. She had never heard of any beast named 'Black'. It sounded like a pirate, and she withdrew. "Go and find out what this 'Black' is Lumbert, and if you return to me in poor news, you won't be eating for the rest of the week! Go you useless dope." Lumbert obeyed, rushing out the door. Useless cretan, but it is hard to find good help now-a-days. At least he isn't-

She had not finished her thought, as she was interrupted again, this time by her brother. Chuggas Felis, a name she had come to despise. When she was married off to Milo, Chuggas came with her, a lazy male wild cat who dressed in royal vigor, but whose buttons on his bulbous stomach stretched out. He wore a flat cap with a single bird feather in it, and came gracefully into Maria's room, as if they were still on friendly terms.

"Maria, my dear sister! I saw your servant going out in a rush, I hope I am not bothering your session of late evening brooding?"

Maria scoffed "As usual, Chuggas. As usual. What unfortunate pleasure does my brother visit me?"

"To tell you my dear Maria that your husband has finally secured out trade agreements with the western settlements of course! I cannot wait to start seeing more ships in those harbors. We have more stone and wood then we even know what to do with. I wish your husband would allow me to sell these slaves to the mainland, making back at least some money so we didn't have to feed them all."

Maria looked insulted "Sell the Green Isle otters, are you mad, Chuggas? Absolutely not, and you know full well I forbid it! Those slaves are mine by right, as a Felis, they are yours as well! Although it shouldn't surprise me since you'd sell your birthright for a cream pie, you fat oaf."

Chuggas meekly stepped away from his sister's path as he paced the room, occasionally stealing some snacks laid about by Lumbert. The snacks didn't make her happy, but Chuggas often liked to stuff his mouth, happily speaking "Our birthright? Tis an island, Maria, like any other. There are plenty of islands with otters on it, just like the Rupperwork, or Rudderwake holt your dear son Minto found."

"I do remember, he brought back a lot of creatures in chains that day. A proud day when he took on the mantle you mock and refuse. Green Isle is more then an isle, it is ours by right of conquest."

"And lost by right of conquest."

Maria gave him an angry scowl "We lost it because Salamanderstron murdered our family and gave that isle to our own slaves! When I rule that isle, the name Tiria Wildlough will be wiped from history along with the whole of her wretched brood!"

Chuggas swiftly shot back "Oh you on this again? You must relax more, my sister, like father and his father did. Green Isle is lost, along with that whole part of our history. We are simple beasts with simple ambitions. You act more the slave yourself shackling yourself to such a past."

"Out, Chuggas! Out!" Maria practically screamed, throwing a vase at him. It shattered on the floor as Chuggas swiftly realized his mistake and was running along. I will be queen of that isle, and avenge a lot of bad blood! Let Milo have his Mossflower, I will rule the waves!

---

On the pier of Sandbeach, a strange black dot appeared on the horizon which moved swifter than any ship or galley in the open water. The sentries on the walls were the first to spot it, as a great black painted ship began to roll straight around the isle, circling it with a black hoisted flag, depicting a single fox skull as a standard. Slave fishers who were out in their boats and fishing with nets could not even believe their sight. The singular black ship veered around like a mad creature, at a speed some thought impossible, as the carrack began to pull into harbor. Some of the feral cat guards on the docks were concerned at first, they recognized the ship as hare make, but were stopped short of causing a scene when from the docks a single figure in big black boots began to trod onto the docks. Leaping from a small wooden plank bridge, a fox in a big black pirate cap and black sash strode out from the deck, his sabre and crossbow to his belt.

Sagan Black had arrived, sniffing the fresh air of his ship and calling up to his gaggle of pirate mates in the Black Sea Plow. "I'll be back in but a moment me hearties! Sandbeach not be kind to good an' gentle sea scum like ourselves! We'll be back in open waters in due course!"

A multitude of voices called down with a thunderous "Aye aye!" came from above. Sagan swaggered about the deck, annoying one approaching cat guard who angrily veered up to him "You cannot anchor your damn ship there! Tis fo-" He wasn't able to finish his sentence as Sagan calmly and effectively grabbed him and threw him off the pier as if he owned it. With a splash, the other cats unsheathed there weapons, uncertain what to do.

Another, more friendly and amused voice called out from the dock. "Stay yer weapons, me mateys! Tis but Sagan Black, terror of the High Sea themselves!" Sagan came forward with friendly abandon to another sea pirate and one eyed rat. Sagan spoke aloud "Me former first mate an' fellow sea scum Zarkle! If I didn't see the ol' Twilight Dawn in dis der harbor, i'd had kept meself away, matey!" Both hugged each other as good friends.

The cat who had fallen over in the water came to shore, as a couple shrew slaves pitied the poor beast enough to try to offer to help, but he shoved them away. He came across the pier again, shaking off water and looking a bit shaken. Seeing the pirates, he was about ready to slay both. Yet, he had orders to not touch the 'majesty's allies and friend beasts'. The punishment of Milo had kept his paw far away from the hilt of his sword.

"You best explain yourself now, sea scum, or I'll have my captain string you up. The both of you."

"Stow it, backlicker!" Zarkle snapped back "This be here guest of yer chief, me good mate an' mentor himself! Sagan Black, Black Stain on all the west seas! Ghost of the Reefs! Uncatchable an' Undefeatable!"

Sagan gave a mighty smile and a mocking bow "The one an' only me matey. No beast stands in the way between me an' me business! Not even a low rankin numbskull like yerself. Now shoo yerself before ye hurt yerself. Now show me around this here port, me hearty! I wanna see the taverns sparkle, I do!"
_

Had it been any other pirate, the cats would have turned Sagan away, his brash and bold attitude was a mystery to both free vermin and slave beasts alike. The fox swaggered and made himself at home in many sections of the city, but both Zarkle and Sagan stayed in the below sections of the vermin side of the city. Sagan could only give a cringed look at several Mossflower vermin taken as slaves by the cats, working alongside more 'free' beasts who were living in what he could describe a living torture chamber of poverty. Many had families, but none were found here in Sandbeach itself, most forcefully conscripted by press gangs of Gashan's pirates in secret. Had the Long Patrol known that those many yearly raids from pirates had targeted western vermin hamlets and northern settlements, they may have known much earlier. Sagan however found the whole ordeal dull, boring even. Tyranny and empire building was best left to lonesome warlords like Milo, and kingdoms managed by badgers in their damned mountain. He was a free beast of his own accord, free to rule the waves as he saw fit.

Sagan and Zarkle walked into a tavern in the vermin section, a nice little place called The Drunken Seal with a poorly made sign flying overhead. The vermin owner of the tavern quickly helped the two to a fine shot of grog which Sagan washed down his gullet. "Me mate Zarkle, we'n I be hearin ya call, I honestly thought ye mad! I'ma pirate me good mate, not a privateer nor mercenary fer the likes of this lot."

"I know, but Gashan be sayin I best be tryin ya know."

"Bah! Gashan be a ripe ol' fool, an a ninny at that. Sold his soul to the devil he did, fer all that loot an' ships. Useless landlubbers callin themselves worthy sea scum can't even run der own ships without runnin into a coral reef! Ya should come to me own ship, mate, we've still got room fer the likes of ya."

"Nay, mate. I gots me own ship now, me own crew. . .an' a contract." Zarkle spat "Gashan sold more den his own damn soul, if ya get me drift."

"Bah. Let the bugger rot then! Landlubber like him deserve a good cuttin befur bein dragged into the sea with rocks between his legs!"

"Good to see ya too, Sagan." A voice came from behind as the very landlubber beast that the two spoke off grasped both of their shoulders. Instinctively, Sagan had his paw on the tip of his sabre, but Gashan didn't feign away. He instead laughed.

"Keep yer sword in yer sheathe, me matey. Sagan, long time no see."

Sagan gave a crooked smile "Aye, matey. Long time no see indeed." The three soon found themselves in a more private corner of the tavern, enjoying the festive atmosphere around them, the favored terrain of the three pirates. Fights between sailing vermin and conscripts often broke out over petty things like grog and food, some casually playing cards, while others ate their food messily. One of the slaves owned by the tavern keep would occasionally step out to see the mess, and veer back inside a room. If he was going to clean up the mess, he'd rather do it when they were all passed out drunk.

Sagan brought his black boots to the table and lounged in his chair without a care in the world. "Zarkle here be sayin ya want me help, ol' Gashan. Me ship, and me crew? What madness brings ya to ask the ghost who outwitted the hares?"

"Bad sport mostly, we've been gotten in some trouble matey. Ya know me boss's plans, I be guessin?"

"Nay. Don't know, don't care. I don't plan on retiren like dat wretch Barbo. I'm still in the game down south ye know, lookin at a big raid comin up, put der fear in Southward's navy."

"Ya may only have one ship, Sagan, but ye are experienced. Even I know dis, yer mate swears by it."

Zarkle commented "100 raids, successful an' flawless when I rode under yer black flag mate. Riches, ransoms, an' all that. Escaped many'a times, outwitted the hares to exhaustion. Made a fool of the Long Patrol AND Southward fleets ya did."

"I be knowin dat." Gashan groaned, annoyed by Sagan's relevance. "Tis why I reached out at all, matey. Yer gettin up there in years, ya know, an' so am I. Corsair an' pirate be cousins, same even, but ya gots to be thinkin of settlin at some time."

"Ya mistake me fer the likes of Barbo, matey. That ol' Stout be givin up all he gots fer a good life. Me? I plannin to die at sea, with me sabre in paw an' a bottle of grog at me side."

Gashan frowned but then thought a bit "Ya are a pragmatic beast, matey, what I gotta do to convince ya to at least talk to me boss?"

"An make a deal wit dat devil? Ya mad? He'd steal me soul as much as look at me."

"What yer soul be worth then, matey?"

Sagan at to think on it for a bit. "Me soul worth not much to me, I suppose bucko. Gashan, how about dis. What exactly does the ol' cat even need me fer anyway?"

"A special division, matey, a crew to help ferry us to victory. We gots plenty of beasts an' captains as ya should know, many o' pirates be swearin to me. All except of course Cartch, but ya know that wretch better then I do."

Sagan chuckled at the comment. Cartch is a fox much like himself, an infamous sea raider in the far north, far past Riftguard and well established in a vermin port and fortress. Sagan knew Cartch all too well, the warlord had an ill temper and was a fairly jealous type. "Aye, matey, an' he got the sense to know how to avoid yer own situation. This special division, what exactly it be?"

"Think of it like this, matey. The beasts in Milo's army be the handle of a spear, but beasts like me an' ya are the tip of it to thrust into the neck of an' ol hare that we come across. I'm not askin ya to command a fleet, Sagan, I'm askin ya to help us. Specifically with a badger ship, me maties."

Sagan looked wide eyed. Gashan had told Sagan all he ever wanted to hear, an opportunity at glory unseen. He asked quickly "Am I after Adam himself, the Mountain of the Sea?"

"Better yet, me matey. The stripe dog lord himself."

---

Milo was in a small aviary, delivering messages and missives to his allies. He had written a single mark upon several stamps, each to be delivered to a new lord from across the sea. Some flew north, others flew west. The cage of the aviary squealed with sizable gulls, which Milo would personally feed. He was personally preparing for this war, and plans were moving fast, and time was never on his side. His thoughts raced on what to do next. He knew full well that the Green Eyed Horde would need allies, and he and his father spent much of their lives building up those alliances, spying and plotting. Many would have to come, as birds flew around. Milo would bring a force of darkness to his isle in time, and from there he would set his plans into motion, but was yet disturbed by a cough and grunt behind him.

Milo turned, seeing the face of his brother, a fatter but still fit wild cat. He was an odd creature to be certain, often over dressed to the point of being a nuisance. His white cloak was pinned with an ornate golden pin depicting two fighting cats clawing at one another, his paws littered with rings, and an obnoxious golden chain draped from his neck on the outside of his shirt. Milo may have been emperor, but his brother Shaer looked like a position above his own, but lacked a crucial crown to adorn his head. Milo however perhaps saw things a bit differently. He looked like a clown.

"Brother, you called for me?"

"It is emperor to you Shaer." Milo reminded him, closing a hatch on the aviary, turning to confront his brother. Shaer gave a swift report "I wish you would send for me in a proper manner befitting a brother of your highness. Chuggas, your chamberlain, would dare send for common rats to summon me! I'd have had that wretch whipped for such insolence."

"And if you speak ill of my wife's brother in such a manner again, brother, you will be scrubbing floors in this palace with the slaves. For four long gruelling seasons."

Shaer silenced himself. He wanted to speak up and against Milo, but the emperor had no interest. He showed Shaer outside and began speaking "My allies will be here soon, and we will not have to wait very long. At best, several weeks. I am beginning the process of mustering our full forces. Gashan is making up some last minute recruitment of some pirate I am to meet this very day, along with other court business. You and your family are to attend when our allies come. They must see the entire family is united and ready."

"I see." Shaer bit his lip. Milo noticed that his brother was discomforted and angrily scowled at him, which made him back up. Milo was fairly well taxed with work and stress, and seeing his brother still trying to scheme his way out of even simple responsibilities had put yet another dent in the canyon that was their relationship. "Well? Something wrong brother?"

"Of course not, my emperor. Even if I told you, it would seem you would not care. I would love to come and not ruin the family unity, but alas, my dear brother I have many issues to tend with." Shaer gave a rather fake, but convincing smile. Milo squinted his eyes and pulled at his brother's reluctance "Issues? You and your whole family have been cooped up in the slave quarry for over a season, what issues could there even be? Those slaves are strong, broken, and my stock of tradable stone and lumber hasn't seen any form of depletion."

"Yes, my lord, of course. It's just that my son Kurgle you see. He is a bright lad, a strong lad much like your son Tarlo. He has been an efficient captain of mine, and has been able to work without ambition or worry for many seasons. Yet he lacks the title of a proper captain. I would request of my emperor, and beg of my brother, to grant him a good title so I may put him to better work elsewhere. You know him well, he impressed you in winter if I recall."

Milo knew what his brother was talking about, his nephew Kurgle was in fact very bright. He was a swell talking vermin, a suitable warrior, and a proud member of his own court. When he had sent his brother away to oversee the slave quarry on Sandbeach, he had sent his family as well. Shaer may have been a brat, but to Milo, he wasn't ambitious. His request did seem odd though. Shaer had every authority to promote and demote creatures at will, Kurgle was an excellent captain but was not taskmaster material. Kurgle had stayed with his young squire, another wild cat named Pulkan, in the court last winter season and had been very helpful and dutiful in his duties. Milo would have made him a captain then if it wasn't for the fact he didn't want to be seen simply promoting his family at will.

"Then I shall burden you less, my dear brother. At the next session of court, there will be several things I will address, but I will properly grant a good title to your son. Despite the fact you look like an oaf, and you are an oaf at that, you are still my brother. Remember that well."

Shaer did remember that, his fake smile fading as Milo left for his throne. Shaer remembered that little line his own father used to deny him his proper place. You are family, and family does not damage family. You will work together, or fall together like your predecessors did. Petty ambitions of lesser beasts will always be the bane of this family. These words touched Shaer with a tingle of hate. His father may have beaten the ambition of usurping his brother back then, but he wasn't done scheming to be the last Greeneyes standing, and if all went well today, his plot would soon be falling into place.
_

"Kurgle, you striped back wretch!"

"Minto, you scarred incompetent!"

The two Greeneyes embraced each other in the garden. Kurgle was a large and strong warrior much like Minto was. He carried an ornate axe at his waste with a shield to his back, his turban almost lopsided as the two embraced. Minto liked Kurgle, he was a strong and intelligent warrior much like he was, and a far more tolerable creature to boot. Kurgle spoke with pomp as he began to address his surroundings "I see your father yet again fails to grasp the very definition of beauty. These flowers look terrible, pink an' blue? I'd prefer reds and greens myself you know. Tell me brother, I do hope that scar was something better than an uppity otter prisoner getting nasty with you."

"Ha! You'd wish! Beat this, you sour puss! A badger lord, the badger lord of Salamanderstron himself! I slashed him across the face and one his brood, at least i think, bashed me head in."

"Bah! That is nothing! You should see the javelin scars I got from a rebellious slave in the back, hurt much more than that silly scar I say!" Kurgle was fairly arrogant, and was always prone to over telling his own stories. Any other creature would have annoyed and even insulted Minto, yet Kurgle was tolerable. He had quickly turned to reveal several large bumps and cuts, and with a friendly voice chastised his cousin.

"You see Minto, even I can get scars as easily as you! Badger or no, I fought hard with the brute and defeated him with relative ease, even as he and his gang of free brigands tried to strike me down! With a single furl of my whip and a swift strike of my axe, they were whimpering back from whence they came!"

"Oh I bet they did." Minto casually touched the scars. "Although they are no raiding scars, you mud sucker! You should have seen the battles I did on Green Isle! Those scars healed long ago, but I still remember when some damned Green Clan spearbeast tried to run me through! Good times."

Tarlo had veered around a corner, shouldering a younger looking wild cat who cautiously was approaching, and was flanked by yet another. Minto knew these two new cats well. One was Pulkan, a younger smithy and Kurgle's squire in all but name, a personal servant of sorts. Most of the Greeneyes on the isle had servants of their own, all except Tarlo himself. Pulkan had an ill fitting armor, and wore a mixture of mix and matched clothes, mostly a garb of peasantry mixed in with his new found career. Pulkan was family, a Greeneyes, but not in the traditional sense. Shaer had taken a mistress long ago and had given Pulkan into the world, and died doing so. Pulkan was a meek and simple creature, but he was well liked by the ever divided family, with Kurgle being fairly proud to bring him on as his squire of sorts.

The other one was a hooded wild cat who had many fair features, beautiful and delicate. Cana Greeneyes is Minto and Tarlo's sister, and youngest sibling, although both didn't really know her well. While Minto and Tarlo were off on raids, adventures, and being the pawns of their father, Cana had stayed home to mostly be tended to by her servants. It was fairly rare to see her without being lorded over by her betrothed, which Minto was the first to question.

"Cana. Where is that bootlicker of a husband of yours?"

Cana sighed "I'd prefer you didn't speak of Kain like that, Minto. He may. . .is. . .a bootlicker to father, but he is still my beloved."

Minto rolled his eyes "Bah. Beloved indeed, more like some wretch father pulled off a damn boat and threw him at you. If he didn't always have kind and loyal words to say to father, I'd say he'd have been thrown into the sea some time ago."

Tarlo and Kurgle couldn't help but snicker, because what Minto said was true. Cana's betrothed had come from the west, a foreign cat who had fought alongside Milo when their grandfather still ruled. Kain was an older beast, but all of them called him 'bootlicker' for good reason. He had a serious tendency to agree fanatically with whatever Milo said and did, and his betrothal to Cana only cemented him firmly to Sandbeach.

Cana couldn't help but try to defend her soon to be husband "Kain may be father's favorite crown shiner, but do remember at least you three, he is a warrior."

Kurgle was quick to disagree "Warrior? He barely has a scar on him, and I should know. He may have fought alongside your father, but warrior? He has his minions to do that for him, unlike the likes of us."

Tarlo shook his head "I wouldn't be so cruel to my dear sister. To speak kindly of him. . .at least he is of a strong breed?"

Minto pulled over a frightened Pulkan and presented him to the group "This Cana, this one right here be a better and stronger breed then the whole of what you are about to be called husband. Me good cousin Pulkan here can at least properly forge his own weapons and armor without falling over face first and calling for help from his little gaggle of servants."

Pulkan gave a weak and awkward smile, which Cana could only reply with a friendly giggle. Minto may have been cruel, but the five Greeneye children were mostly friendly to one another. Mostly being a key word, as Tarlo began to speak.

"I hate to break up this meeting, but I am here to bear bad news."

"Of course you do, when do you not?" Minto huffed.

"Firstly, we are requested by our father's presence. In the throne room, primarily for some big court business. Kurgle and Pulkan, your father wanted to see you before you join us apparently. Cana here. . .mother did request you, but you know how she is. I'd give her a wide berth."

Kurgle couldn't help but give a loud and obnoxious sigh "Fine, but not because you had said so Tarlo. I'm certain I know what he wants of me."

"Neither do you command me brother." Minto added.

"It is not my command. It's father's."

Minto trudged off, gave a last hug to Pulkan and was off. The younger cat smiled as the other Greeneyes went on their way. Tarlo turned to Pulkan and gave a friendly smile "Nice to see you and Kurgle here. How goes the new. . .uhhhh. . .responsibilities by the way?"

"Oh. Kurgle is kind, you know, but father can make one miss the heat of the smithy. I'd have preferred my former master if I had known i'd be more in his presence. He has a foul temper, a jealous one at that."

Kurgle called out "Come Pulkan! We have no time to waste, or father will give us a speech to bore us to the next age!"

Pulkan ran along as Tarlo turned back toward the throne room. His mind was on what kind of business there would be for the coming days. Whatever it was, he was certain it would be simple, sweet, and short.
_

Milo comfortably sat on his throne as he was ready to conduct a session of court business, with two things primarily on the table. To each side of the room was Minto and Tarlo, although this had annoyed him. Milo had always tried to have his sons work together, as he and Shaer had, although if he had to play a favorite it was Tarlo. Tarlo was speaking with several guards, joking about the drull affairs of court, and how he was readying himself for a nice warm glass of milk, some roasted bird, and plates of fish. Minto on the other paw was studious, overly prepared and sat like a rock. He was clearly bored, wanting nothing more than to be out on the sea raiding again. He hated politics, and that hatred made Milo disfavor him the most, although he had never told him that. Milo sat as a guard approached with a frightened looking corsair, a weasel with a small knapsack. The weasel bowed as the guard announced him.

"This is the corsair and slaver Kaeten! My lord, he says he has a gift for you."

Perfect. The weasel came forward and slowly got out a large scroll and handed off to a guard who showed it to Milo. He looked it over and his eyes and smile widened. His minions had done him well, as he pawed at the map. "My good servants and spies have done me good this day. Servant, go back to them and tell them I am pleased. Their reward, and yours will be in gold and silver this day, for which I shall keep till they return to my side."

The weasel gave another cowardly bow and was led out. Milo showed his minions a great map of Mossflower forest as he stood on his throne, looking it over greedily. The mountain of Salamanderstron, the River Moss, the forests and valleys, the great inland lake. Yet his eyes set upon a single red dot and road, the abbey of Redwall. Most in the court looked on as Milo folded the map and gave it to one of his guards, commanding him to put the map in his room. "Long have I sought the map of Mossflower, and the cursed and wretched abbey of Redwall has gifted me such a prize. Ironic it will be when I march my armies to defile the tomb of my family's murderer, guided by a map provided by his own people!"

They all knew what Milo spoke of, the guardian of Redwall itself. Martin the Warrior, the name sent shivers down the backs of those who knew him. Many whispered of a vermin slaying ghost, one who could stop any evil which befell the abbey, but Milo did not believe such stories. He could not, not if he wished to conquer all of Mossflower for his family. Tarlo and Minto were well within the knowledge of their father's plan, and all was going well into motion, all that had to happen now was to call their servants to his side. Tarlo didn't look forward to it, having so many of father's thralls in one room made him anxious.

The rest of the court meeting seemed to go on with what Tarlo could only describe as viciously dull. Milo sat on his throne as those who were awaiting outside would come in and grovel at Milo's feet, asking for his pirt, his remorse, or his mercy. One was a Mossflower rat who had been captured and was now trapped on the isle, an older rat who wished to return home but was instead sent away to a new barracks. One was a vole family of slaves who had been cooking for the army and were accused of poisoning the food, which they viciously denied. Tarlo would often only watch his father make decisions, questioning his captain and the slaves with interest. He decided against immediate execution, but ordered them to join logging crews instead as punishment for 'incompetence'. Two feral cats came forward with their grievances, both claiming that they had a shiny battle axe, both giving sob stories of how it belonged to their family. Milo had a better idea, ordering the one who begged and promised more to his horde would be the one to claim it. The cat who had promised to cut his rations and join dutifully in the next round of brutal raids on the otter colonies had pleased him the most, and earned his keep, the other was banished to a lower position in the barracks for not offering enough. The whole affair used to depress Tarlo, but now he was simply bored by it.

Gashan was next, the pirate entering in a bit more cleaner than when Tarlo had seen him last, trying and failing to dust off a wine stain from his overly used shirt. Gashan entered and bowed humbly like any pirate could, and spoke "My master an' lord, me harty an' good friend has beckoned to yer call, as I said."

Milo tapped his paw and nodded. Gashan had promised him a captain who was more than competent, a leader who could easily bring him the head of the badger lord. News of the badger lord being out to sea was important. If Milo knew the stories well, the badger lords would not be heading back to their mountain just yet, and likely head straight to find their allies on Green Isle. It was just too bad he had humiliated and decimated their fleets some time before, cutting off their communications. Gashan seemed to have planned more ahead then he did, having already called the pirate far in advance.

"May I present to ya, Sagan Black! Ghost Thief of the seas themselves, an' all that." Gashan shouted as the black booted fox came through the doors, looking around and admiring the view. Milo was far from impressed, he looked like any old sea scum captain. Yet the fox bounded about and began to speak "So, this be where ya hidin, me hearties? Gashan, me ol' fool, dey be usin wood on der windows? What kind ol' fool uses wood fer windows?"

Gashan felt embarrassed, Sagan had a boisterous personality and was rather uncaring. He felt invulnerable so long as the Gashan spoke on his behalf, and he would abuse every moment of it.

Milo attempted to speak, introducing himself. "Sagan Black, I am Milo Greeneyes, Empe-" He was cut off as Sagan spoke aloud "Milo Greeneyes? Never heard of ya, but I heard of yer father ye know. Morgan was it? Ehhh, seein yer green sails over me good waters be makin life fer me quite boring."

Milo was tempted to just end this charade swiftly, but Sagan again interrupted him "Names Sagan, govena. Sagan Black, an I am here fer a job you says? I be listen, but makes it quick. I be ready to fly me colors back out soon, an I wish'er to be out on the open seas soon!"

Milo looked flabbergasted, usually vermin of his stature were either frightful, idiotically crawling towards him begging, or a mixture of the two. Sagan was snappy and waiting patiently, as Milo turned about his court. His sons looked mortified, expecting their father to order the fox executed in some far flung manner. Yet Milo could only seem impressed, for clearly the fox had no fear of death, nor of him for that matter.

"I see. I have been meaning to find a skilled captain, more than competent and more than skilled, and Gashan my vassal vouches for you. You are a good speaker, but I have yet to hear of your accomplishments."

"Aye, an' few do! Me own ship, the Black Sea Plow be a Hare ship she is, a beauty I slew many a' Long Patrol for to claim her. I snuck into the keeps of Southward, stealin gold an' diamond fer me loot, I ransacked settlements from tip of the icy north to the far flung deserts of the west! They call me the Ghost for good reason, me hearty. Yet, I hear so little of ya an' all I do is see yer green banner over many'a ships. I avoid ye like a plague fer good reason, fer there be no sense in attackin fellows who keep der loot locked up in flesh an' bone."

Tarlo was at first confused by his statement, speaking out "Flesh an' bone, good fox?"

"Haha! Good? Me heart be black an' soiled with the abyss of the sea herself, me lad! Ya are all slavers of gentle an' evil beasts, an I knows of ya well. I keep none fer me own, for I have no need of it, an' slaves make fer bad ransom. I am no slaver, an' no mercenary, ner captain of a great fleet. I am but one ship, with one crew."

Minto angrily boasted out "Then you are a waste of time and a worse speaker. Father, let me slay this creature and be done with it!"

"No, let him speak." Milo looked on, his anger over the fox's rudeness dissipated with a new found curiosity of him. "Me good lord, yer servant and soul bound demon, Gashan, knows me well, and me mate Zarkle be bound to ye. I will not give criticism to me ol' first mate fer sellin his soul to ye, like the devil ye are, but I am not bought so easily. Me services come with one price, an' one price alone. I wants a ship, a bigger ship, an the Mountain of the Sea be doin quite fine I hear, treadin across the waters with a badger lord in it. I will give ye me services, if only ye give me the glory of bringing down a lord of the mountain itself."

"You would swear to my cause on these terms?" Milo was surprised, he half suspected the fox to demand all of Sandbeach, but yet as he spoke he explained "I live fer glory an' fame, me hearty! To kill a great king of Mossflower be on thing, but on his own ship and claim it fer me own? Tis the best end fer me legend to be!"

Minto angrily spoke up "No! That kill belongs only to the likes of a Greeneyes, and to me!"

The fox wheeled around and mocked him "Ye had yer chance, me bucko, an that face be provin it all too well." Minto came forward, despite objections from the throne. In furious anger he gripped his trident and tried to put it between the fox's chest, but a swift evasion to the side only saw him trip up and fall into some guards in the court. Milo angrily shouted "Minto Greeneyes! To your post at once, or so help me I'll have you lashed!" Minto got up and obeyed, pouting as he did. Humiliated, he saw the glances and snickers in the room, goading him on for more violence.

The fox wasn't fazed as Milo spoke "I'd prefer you not, as your future employer, to not goad my sons. However, this is duable. I shall give you the hare's ship in payment for your service, but I ask for several conditions. You are continue to serve till I have conquered all of Mossflower is my first."

"I can do dat me hearty, so long as ya don't expect me an' me crew to march in yer armies."

"I ask of you not to bring harm to my soldiers or to raid their vessels, any former issues you have with any of them you will lay aside for now."

Sagan laughed "Aye, I have no qualms with yer kind, can be done."

"Finally, I will ask you to share your glory. . .with my son Tarlo who will accompany you as you hunt for the Mountain of the Sea."

There was a shock in the room. Minto may have returned to his station, but he looked up to his father and angrily shouted "What! No! You cannot do this to me father, I am by right to deserve the slaying of that creature! Send me instead!"

Sagan was about to speak up himself, tell Milo 'no' and then walk about in a means to get his way. Yet, Tarlo stepped forward and tried to plead with his father. "I am honored, father, but that dedication I think belongs to my brother. He is the one who nearly slew the badger lord himself. I believe he deserves his chance at glory."

"Be silent you dull and silver spooned kitten!" Minto shouted at his brother "If I wanted your defense, I would have asked for it."

Tarlo rolled his eyes at this statement "Silver spooned? While you are off taking on defenseless otters, I am fighting and recruiting pirates, cats, and other vermin. I don't want more glory, I am offering for you to have enough to even match me." Minto roared with rage and made an accusing gesture, hissing loudly at his brother "Match you? You are just another soft and overly groomed, pompous wretch! If you were even remotely closer to my equal, you'd be dead and crying to your mud sucker you call a wife!" Tarlo's eyes flared up and hissed at him, taking his trident in paw and charged outward. Tarlo was married, to a cat maiden he loved dearly, and to hear his brother's cruel words towards her was intolerable. Milo looked on in anger as Minto also charged, the two cat's weapons clashing in the court. Sagan looked at Tarlo a bit impressed, as he swiftly was gaining an upper paw on his brother. In anger, Milo yelped out.

"Enough! You two, kneel before your emperor or face my severe wrath!" Both eased up as a silence permeated the shocked court. Tarlo felt ashamed and unfurled his trident and knelt, while Minto huffed and knelt last. Milo stood and looked over his sons with a hateful gaze.

"Did I not tell you the story of your ancestors, drilled it into your sorry heads! Family does not harm family, and I would see you both punished if I was not bound by the same rules. We are Greeneyes, not some common rabble of barbarian warlords where sons and brothers slay one another for their power and throne! You both should be ashamed to bring me such dishonor, and you will make up for it. Make your peace before me, or both of you will be given over to my guard and start back at the bottom as common soldiers!"

The idea terrified both cats. If anything, neither of them were fond of their early soldiering years, the marches and yelling captains who were very liberal with their whips. Both stood and faced each other, as Tarlo was the first to speak. "My brother, I shall gift to you the division of foreign cats I have gathered, in peace to you." Tarlo extended his paw. He didn't want to rely on his overly angry and petty brother, as Minto swallowed his pride and spoke with a poor attitude. "I shall grant you a slave from my latest stock. . . .and I shall give lay down my much deserved pride and allow you to take my place in slaying the badger lord."

It was as petty as Tarlo suspected and frowned, but Minto shook his paw as Milo angrily rose his paw and shooed them back to their spots. His gaze turned to Sagan who looked on quite amused. Sagan looked up and simply said "I agree to all yer terms, but I will want to speak to the lad alone. Good to know a good ship mate after all."
_

Sagan and Tarlo were heading to his section of the Palace, with Minto staying in the throne room to vent. He was angry and pissed, but his attitude changed when Kurgle and Pulkan came through the halls next as Milo's last appointment. Milo looked tired, his eyes still fixed on Minto and his behavior. Kurgle had the best stoic expression he could muster, tended to by Pulkan who stood well at his side. Minto smiled at them both, with Pulkan giving a naive and friendly wave to him. However, Minto's mood changed swiftly again as another pair of wild cats entered and joined the courtroom, the procession of clowns themselves Shaer and Burba Greeneyes.

Minto was not fooled like his father was, he knew full well and expected Shaer, his uncle, to have plans and plots against him. Yet, Minto didn't really like his father either, the old emperor sat softly on his throne, denying him his rightful hunt. Minto honestly preferred his mother, who comforted him and told him grand stories about his heritage and natural superiority. His eyes returned to Kurgle in his full set of wild cat armor, giving a humble kneel along with Pulkan to the emperor.

Milo arose and approached them "My nephew, I am but your uncle and your emperor, you do not need to kneel so low." Milo helped Kurgle to rise. Kurgle may have been prideful, but he attempted his best to keep his mouth shut, occasionally glancing at his father who stood in the background. Milo grasped his nephew by the paw and announced to the court around him "My nephew, Kurgle Greeneyes, your services are well known to me and this court, and you are a strong asset to my horde. I would like to offer you a better position higher then that of a soldier, but to join me in captaining several vermin of your own! I promote you to this position not solely because you are a superior breed, but because you have earned my favor with distinction. You shall be given several vermin to rule over, along with a gaggle of slaves to attend you of course."

Kurgle may have been happy with this, but he felt undeserving. He knew his father had his filthy paws all over this promotion, but said nothing of it. "I understand, uncle Milo. What shall I do to prove more to you?"

Shaer was quick to interrupt "I have a perfect idea! My emperor, your new captain should accompany his vermin to the logging camps, while we stay in the quarry! We will produce twice as much with twice the speed my son and I?"

Shaer had purposefully risked a lot speaking up, and he risked a lot. Minto however wasn't sure what Shaer was even trying to do. What kind of wild cat of royal blood would want to spend their time watching slaves suffer in some quarry? Let alone in the logging yard. Milo was at first suspicious, but he seemed to agree "A good idea, two of my family shall run our resource outposts on the island, and if it is as you say my good brother, then he will make a fine and exemplar captain I am certain."

Minto was quick to speak up "Perhaps, but would it be better that a captain of the Green Eyed Horde be given a more honorable duty to prove his worth? Like say, lead a raid on Green Isle?"

Kurgle cheered up, boasting to Milo "I am a strong warrior, my emperor. I am ready for whatever you choose, but I do think my services are better bringing in new slaves to your care, then ruling over them!" The wild cat slammed his paw into his chest, with Milo all the more impressed. The previous actions Minto had taken in court could be forgiven for such a good idea, with Milo adding his own conditions.

"Since you, my son, have acted so foolishly and petty in court, perhaps it would do you well to show how one raids on the open seas to our new captain? Release your pent up fury on the otters, and make me and your family proud. To see you actually work together is what I desire of you all, and to show that the Greeneyes still have a place in this world yet! Now go, get out of my sight, and make me proud to call you kin!"

Shaer and Burba's faces turned white as Kurgle was escorted away by Minto, who shot them a mocking look. The fact Minto was the one to put a dash in their unknown plan was not lost on Shaer, who seethed in silence.

---

Tarlo and Sagan entered into a smaller household at the edge of the palace compound, it was a small tower of sorts with a domed roof and was as ornate as the other structures around it. It used to be a library of sorts, where Tarlo's grandfather stored all of his precious books and records, but in later years it had become his home, and the home of his wife. Sagan looked up at the marble and sandstone tower, seeing the lion head statues upon strong marble pillars, windows covered in green and red silk curtains, and a vast array of what he could only call 'scribbles' in a language he barely understood. It occurred to him that Sandbeach had some long winded history before it became a staging point to eastern campaigns, but to vermin and woodlanders alike, few knew its true history.

Sagan walked through the doors to the tower, coming into a beautiful decorated living space of silken couches and carved tables, set down with silver silverware. From a spiral stairway came down a figure, a beautiful black and white feral cat covered in a simple burka and royal finery. Her earrings and jewelry of silver and beaten gold were all gifts as Tarlo hugged and whirled her around as the two purred loudly.

"My dear shining star! It is good to see you once again, I have thought much of you." Tarlo began, but was silenced by his cat wife "And I of you Tarlo. . . .Oh? Who is this?"

Sagan took off his pirate cap and gave a short bow to her and introduced himself "Me name be Sagan Black, me gel. If I must be sayin, yer husband I assumin be'a choosen his mates quite well."

The cat wife gave out a giggle as Tarlo couldn't help but blush. "Oh, sorry. Yes, this is one of my father's new hires. Sagan, this is my wife, Gana. My dear, i'll have the cooks fill us and our guest a fine feast, we have much to speak on."

Sagan got to get a new handle on the life of Tarlo, and his impression of him only deepened his curiosity. Gana had clapped her paws when several slaves had come out, most looking like youngsters with an interesting set of tattoos. Sagan knew these otters well enough, being of Rudderwake stock. The two obeyed their mistress without question and were ordered to bring food from the kitchens so they would be fed. Tarlo was fairly naive as he guided his wife to sit with him and invited Sagan, who in his usual mood would lean in a chair and bring up his boots to the table. To any normal beast, this would have been an insult, but Tarlo was somehow different.

"Comfortable, Sagan?"

"Aye. I prefer a couch, but dis will do."

Tarlo's servants came back with several layers of food, and called in a friendly manner to them and shifted several fresh breads into a small knapsack and gave it to one of the younger slaves. "Bluewake is it? I heard your family has been having problems, and you have slacked in your duties to tend to them. Tell the guard, on my orders, to let you go feed them and return in due time. I don't wish you to be father's next victim of ire, since you serve so well."

The otter looked on and nodded to him "Yes. . .yes my lord. Thank you." Sagan watched the otter go off with the bread as Tarlo began to tell of his adventures to his wife, and Sagan looked a bit dumbfounded. He had never truly seen that before, a vermin acting kind to a slave. He turned and asked "I hope ya not be soft matey."

"Nay, good Sagan." Cana dug into a salad "My dear husband is no softy, and I should know. He and his family are honorable creatures, isn't that right my love?"

Tarlo smiled, his face filled with a meaty fish and pasta, he gorged down his food and spoke "Yes, I suppose. I don't see the point in acting with cruelty to those who know their place in my father's kingdom. Then again, Minto is the one who takes slaves, I am the one who recruits cats. I just see them going around serving me and doing as they need to, and like any good beast I give me good will towards them. That one had troubles keeping up with his work, apparently his taskmaster was a bit too liberal with the whip on an older beast in the slums below us. Father does know I treat others with kindness, but I treat all like that, you know?"

Sagan gave a hearty chuckle "Aye, tis just odd to see. Usually I just be makin fish bait outta useless louts, eh?"

Tarlo could only shrug "Maybe, but why waste your muscle on it if you view them so little?" Sagan had to think on that one, but he replied with an equal shrug. Sagan looked over Cana, with Tarlo and her still purring as they ate. Sagan would touch some food, but his main choice of diet was alcohol and drank heavily from a wine bottle. He burped, much to the two cat's small jolt of surprise.

"Alright me laddie, so I see ya gots a good home, but I still gots no clue why yer father wants me to to drag ye along."

Cana interrupted swiftly "Oh do not tell me you will be going away again, my dear!" Tarlo remained silent and ate silently. He spoke up at first, with a clear sadness in his voice "Yes, my shining lamp in this dark world, it is true. Father has bound me to this creature here, to go and hunt a badger lord. I had hoped to stay for father's meetings at least, but I imagine we will be off very soon."

"Tomorrow mornin, as the sun be risin, ya will arrive sharply. I be not likin places like this, which is why I've come to speak to ya an' be sure ya will be ready. I ain't a silver spooner like yer father, an' don't be denyin ya are. Literal silver spoons ya be usin!"

Tarlo stared down at a nice pair of silver spoons and felt a little embarrassed, thinking back on his brother's cruel words. I wonder, maybe that is perhaps I am so 'soft' to Minto. Maybe there is something to all those 'silver spoons' an' such. Sagan smiled as he looked about "Ya are clearly a skilled creature, honorable, naive, an' a fine ol' cat to be certain. An emiga I be seein before me. I expected most of yer kind to be as cruel an' heartless as yer bloke of a brother."

"He is still my brother, I honestly wanted him to join you."

"I wouldn't have had em'. Beasts like that be commandin, predictable, an' always wantin to take charge. Ya seem humble, which be odd fer a wild cat of yer. . .family I suppose. I don't know much about Greeneyes, but I heard ya use to be conquerors. Felis too. And of yer family?" Sagan looked to Cana who took her husband's paw in her own "Me ma was a potter from the west, an' me pa was a warrior from the north who settled. They came here many years ago and had me. We met when me dear Tarlo was explorin around the city on his own accord, a simple guardsbeast back then. He was dreamy as he is now, brave an' always kind."

Tarlo remarked "I remember our first days well, my love. Sitting on top of the sandstone roof of your father's abode, watching the stars."

Sagan felt awkward. First he had never seen a kind wild cat, nor had he saw two. Thirdly, he had never been in a situation where he felt like a third wheel. He coughed, exiting from this scene before it consumed them as Tarlo came to attention. "Me matey, I'd hate to separate ya, but if ya want I can drop ya off in a boat an' ya can row back to shore, hide out here fer a few days at least while I go about me business. Huntin the Mountain of the Sea is a dream of mine, an' not somethin easy to pull off."

"By my father's wishes, I must obey. I am sorry, but I am stuck with you as much as you are with me."

Sagan gave a hearty laugh "Then so be it. I'll enjoy havin ya on me ship an-"

"But before we leave, I would like to of course finish up some business. My brother did offer to get me a new slave to serve me."

"And? Ya got plenty of slaves here scampering around." Cana was swift to correct him "You mean Milo's slaves. Not my husband's. These creatures serve me at the behest of. .what does your father call himself 'Master of All Slaves'?"

"He does, but I ask you to hold off till the mid afternoon. My brother can be quite petty and may just nearly forget himself. It will not take me long to goad him."

Sagan gave a annoyed frown, but he relented ultimately "Fine, if ya must bring some pamperin beast along to make ye feel better, then so be it. I'll hold me crew till then, but if ya ain't on that ship, The Black Sea Plow in good time, ya will be left behind."

"I understand, good friend. Now, tell us of your adventures. My wife would love to hear some of them, and so would I."

"Well, if ya must prod, mate. Ya see. . ."
_

Hell is an odd concept for woodlanders and not one so easily understood. Vermin sages would speak of Hell, it was where demons lived, prodding and goreing their victims for all eternity, boiling them alive in lakes of fire, with the flesh and bone of evil beasts stringed up on pikes across a realm of brimstone and fire. Morland felt this idea of hell was wrong, very wrong. Where he was, right now, was in fact the real Hell, and he had been cruelly dropped in it.

Morland figured out why so many of the slaves had been reduced down to their ragged pants, Sandbeach was a hot place to work and his fur worked well against him. If Minto's beatings only a few days back had not already left him in a weak state, the constant and cruel whippings of a cat taskmaster nearby had kept him in a state of weakness. Shackled by his feet and his paws, he was helping lift a stone slab outside the main perimeter of the city itself. Another crack of the whip across his back swiftly reminded him he wasn't moving fast enough, but the pain of the whip paled to the pain on his face. Morland, like the other marine survivors from Black Beach, had received a special punishment. They had been taken to a brander, who had cruelly branded an eye symbol on his cheek, which still remained tender to the touch.

The other slaves around him were not faring much better, some elders who looked far worse then he did, and he looked on with a defeated look with several younger otters he recognized from Black Beach trying to help adults and avoid their master's whips. The group he was assigned to was helping to repair a small sandstone wall which needed some repairs, using stone cut from slave hands. Seasons of training for the marines of Green Isle, the harsh tone of his commanding officers did not prepare him for the brutality of what he felt now, and it showed. Taken up by the gruff of his neck, he was pushed forward by a cat guard who wagged a willow cane at his previous work station. Morland returned to work, with no strength in him to resist.

Bounding around a corner, Minto Greeneyes came up to the taskmaster of the group and began looking around disgusted "These pathetic whelps are moving too slow for my liking, cut their rations in half till they finish this cursed thing!"

"Aye my lord, Minto! What brings you to visit?" The taskmaster gave a humble bow as Minto came over, looking slightly annoyed. Minto himself was flanked by Kurgle Greeneyes and Pulkan. Kurgle was used to seeing the misery in front of him and scoffed noticeably.

"Our ship is almost ready, Minto. Can't Tarlo pick out his own servant?"

"No, father insisted I 'took care of this personally' or whatever fool thing that means. Besides, I plan to do this as quickly as possible and I have no time tracking down every slave in this place. Most were sent to this team. Taskmaster, bring uhhhh. . .that one, those two, and this one. Chain them together so I can relieve them."

"My lord?" The taskmaster looked a bit confused, but a vicious hiss from Minto made him obey. Morland looked on as several otters found themselves chained together and brought forward. Morland had neither the strength or courage to even ask, but Minto was quick to notice him struggling as he rolled a log in the path of a stone slab. Minto unfurled his whip and whirled it around Morland's neck. The otter struggled a bit, but was yanked harshly and fell face first once again onto the ground, this time in front of Minto.

"I recognize this one, still looking a bit blue. We will take this one too."

Morland couldn't help but whimper as he and the others were dragged off. Seasons, let me die. I think I am ready.
_

Morland and several other otters along with several shrews from Black Beach were ushered back into the palace. It had been a day since their arrival, but Morland felt it had been an eternity of suffering. He slept his first night in a crowded pen, watched several of the newer captive fight over food with older ones, and the cry of youngsters had disturbed his sleep. He had not even eaten since he arrived, with the promise of crumbs for his hard work awaiting him. The cats didn't tell the group anything as each of the miserable workers were lined up and forced to kneel on paws and feet in some kind of waiting room. Minto stood over them, pacing impatiently.

Tarlo eventually bound out of a door, with his trident in paw and trying to act friendly to his brother. He asked calmly "Ah, so this is your gift to me, Minto?" Minto couldn't help give an unsatisfied grunt as he looked at Tarlo with an annoyed look. "Hurry up, Tarlo. Pick your slave and be done with it. I am leading a raid on Green Isle once again, to teach our good cousin how to properly raid."

"I heard Kurgle got promoted to captain, give him my best regards. I am surprised father is sending you out, he implied he wanted us. . .or one of us, there for his big meeting without allies?"

"Don't try to act smart, Tarlo. They are father's slaves much like these creatures are, nothing more! Besides, he wants his brother there not for family unity, but to keep an eye on him. You know how uncle Shaer is. I wanted to get away from this circus of incompetents, and from you in particular. Now choose your wretched servant so I can mock you for it."

Tarlo shook his head in disgust, despite father's attempts to get them to like one another, all Milo had ever succeeded in doing was raising his sons to be capable and strong enough fighters to keep out of each other's way. Minto may have been petty, but at least he wasn't murderous. Tarlo looked over the chained woodlanders in front of him, thinking to himself. Minto tapped his paw with impatience on the ground. It may have been early morning, but Minto wanted to leave much earlier. His ship was already ready and outfitted, and Tarlo couldn't help but take his time.

Tarlo's green eyes looked onto Morland, his head dead set on the floor. Of the miserable, bleeding creatures Minto had brought, Morland was a finer creature, looking much stronger than the others, and yet lacked the most spirit. Tarlo pointed his paw at Morland "I'll take this one."

Morland was unlocked from the others, as they were dragged off. Morland felt a paw on the back of his neck bring him upright and grasp his shoulder. He was shepherded deeper into the dark halls of the palace, giving one final glance out at those he once called friends on Black Beach with a mortified look.
_

Tarlo sat in a dining area, it was an open and peaceful place where the two could hear gulls chirping nearby. The arches of wood and clean marble floor were relaxing, the rugs of wool and heavenly looking drapes blocked out the wayward sun but did not block out the light gusts of cool wind. This had all been by design, with the comfy dining area more an outside porch then an inside debacle. Tarlo sat in a decorated chair, eating away at his breakfast, and in front of him sat Morland who looked on with dumbfounded concern. Tarlo had removed the shackles from his feet and paws, but their weight still haunted him. The otter was served a bowl of fillet fish with spices which tortured his nose with how good it smelled, the slave who served him couldn't help look at him with some jealousy, but also a faint amount of pity. Tarlo looked at the otter and gulped down a piece of fish.

"So, as you should know, good otter, my brother and I's little scuffle yesterday means I had to give up a nice contingent of foreign warriors for the likes of you to make peace. By the gods, you haven't even touched your food! Eat up, I demand it."

Morland feared what may happen if he didn't, and weakly took the soup bowl in his paws and sipped it. It hurt a bit, the branding on his face and weakness made it difficult for him, but his eyes widened and he began to chow down like the starved beast he was on the food. Before he realized, he had made a mess, and calmed down to eat more slowly. Tarlo couldn't help but give a simple laugh.

"Ah, hungry, eh? Tell me, what is your name?"

"M-Morland."

Tarlo looked up from his meal and stopped eating, and Morland noticed. Fear overcame him as he had no clue what he said wrong. Tarlo corrected him in a friendly voice.

"You are to say 'Morland, sir' or 'Morland, master'. Tis the way of things of a creature of your station. If you wish to be my servant, which to be honest I had never even really owned one before, I think it's best to start from the top."

Morland gritted his teeth, the food returning some strength and color to him "I only have one master, cat. Tis the lord of Green Isle."

Tarlo chuckled "I see, but you can call me Tarlo. Tarlo Greeneyes, but I'd prefer you just call me 'sir'." Tarlo sipped on a finer glass of wine and looked to Morland. "I see my food gives you spirit, otter, but it is unbecoming of a servant such as yourself."

"My people aren't servants, nor slaves."

"Not how I am seeing it. Mother always taught me my breed is by nature superior to workers and servants such as yourself, and father seems to command your kind quite dutifully. I'll be honest with you Morland, I am usually quite at a loss at what to do with you. You are but honestly my first servant. Usually I do most of the things I want to do by myself, and frankly I have no time to act as my brother does. I do believe you met him, right?"

Morland gave a slow nod. Tarlo continued "What clan do you come from Morland? Oh, and do try the fried onions next to you, it's quite good."

"Wavedog."

Tarlo felt a little annoyed. He never really encountered an otter with spirit before who didn't refer to him as 'sir' or 'master'. It was actually quite uncomfortable. His mother taught him that their kind were natural leaders and rulers, and that all beasts were below them as servants. He knew full well that not every beast accepted this position, nor was happy with it, but he had always known this truth to be self-evident. "Morland, you must learn to be less rude."

"I'll be less rude when me and me folk are free beasts again, Tarlo." Morland felt that twinge of bravery within him. He may have been defeated and weak, but he was angry. Tarlo scoffed "Freedom for your kind is just death and madness for mine. However, since you seem so intent on this path, I will give you a simple choice. You can either accept your role as my servant and follow dutifully. . .or I can have you sent back to wherever you came from to cool off."

"You would be sending me to die anyhow." Morland choked as Tarlo looked him over "I don't really think that, Morland. You had a choice to die when you were captured, and if I know my mother's words correctly, if given a choice between servitude and death, your kind would prefer to live. Here you are, serving under a lash. This bravado is all just smoke and mirrors when you really think about it."

Morland looked on silently, because Tarlo was oddly right. He had an opportunity to speak out and had not, and it was a simple feeling gnawing at the back of his mind. He feared death. He hated to know what awaited him beyond this world, and that had prevented him from speaking out. He was a marine and a warrior, but he wanted the position of one, not to fight in a war. The otter's face went slump with defeat as Tarlo finished up his breakfast.

"So, what will it be. Will I guide you back to your taskmaster, or will you start calling me 'sir' now?"

Morland winced, opening his mouth to speak and began to speak.
_

"Come you two! We don't have much time." Tarlo called. Three figures were approaching the docks of Sandbeach as they rushed past cargo loaders and guards, with two figures trudging behind Tarlo. In his full set of warrior uniform, his gray cloak swaying with the wind and holding onto his frident, the cat had a demon's pace. He wasn't late, yet, but it was getting close to afternoon. He was relieved to see the Black Sea Plow still anchored, although its ravenous crew of vermin pirates were getting ready to set off. Tarlo gave a farewell to his wife, and even stopped by to say a quicker goodbye to his sister. His father and mother were likely arguing, so he didn't bother to give them the approach. He'd rather be off soonish anyway, and he looked up at the fox pirate Sagan Black looking down on his new crew mates.

"Ya brought company I see?"

"Yes yes, come Grof! Come Morland! Come aboard."

Grof Burker began to climb the ship, a water rat who was native to Sandbeach, although his grandparents were from somewhere in Mossflower. Grof cursed and raved beneath his breath, his light armor and cloth was of a royal color. He climbed with his hatched latched to his belt and looked longingly back to the island. The pirates were not welcoming, and he knew this full well. Grof had been Tarlo's personal captain for a long time, who commanded his contingent of elite water rat marines. For this trip however, they would not be joining him, but Tarlo wanted his company. Grof looked down at an otter in a green vest and white sash, carrying a knapsack and what looked to be some various amounts of luggage. Tarlo had introduced Morland to Grof, the former marine turned personal servant had a depressed and soulless look to him which Grof seemed to fully understand. He may have had a weapon, and armor, and commanded rats like any captain should, but he and Morland were little more than servants. Well, at least Tarlo speaks kindly and feeds me food, although I do wish he would stop sending me from one end of the world to the other!

Morland himself struggled a bit to bring the various pieces of luggage onto the vermin ship, occasionally pushed around by Sagan's crew who were busy making their final preparations. He may have sold his soul, but at least he was now well fed and right of mind. The white sash on his chest identified him as a personal slave of the Greeneyes, the former marine meekly resigned himself as he looked to his new master for command. Tarlo ordered him about "Go and put our things in. . .where shall we be sleeping, Sagan?"

"In der brig wit the rest of me crew fer now. Yer ready an' able, ya got all yer things?"

Tarlo looked up into the sky, as a seagull began to circle the ship. It was a sizable bird, as it landed softly onto the deck of the ship and comforted itself next to Tarlo. Sagan tapped his boots with some general annoyance as Tarlo spoke "Now I am ready. Sagan, meet my pet Peckers. He doesn't speak much, but my companion and I don't go anywhere without one another. He will be flying overhead, in front of us."

"Okay, but get'em off me deck! This ain't no aviary!"

Tarlo shooed Peckers off, who flew up into the sky, the bird circling the boat and then swiftly dropping down to grab a fish. Gulls didn't speak, their kind often heckled at others instead, and smiled greedily. They were servants of the pirates, and many were given as gifts to the Greeneyes. The ship began to pull out of the harbor as Tarlo and Sagan watched from the edge of the ship, looking outward.

"Our hunt will take us to Green Isle, but my brother will be raiding nearby, if we want reinforcements of course."

"Aye, we'z need some reinforcements of course, me hearty, but not from the likes of yer brother. Were makin a stop somewhere else, an' gatherin a. . .friendly stout ya could say?"

Tarlo looked at him like an oddity "A friendly stout?"

"Aye. Barbo Senger. Hoist away ya bolly gull wackers! We sail fer Barbo's Isle!"