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.

59. Paradise Lost

Chapter 58: Paradise Lost

The forest of Mossflower were bright as ever, a cool wind blew lightly through it in a place that was unknown. While some beasts may not have taken any notice at all, one beast in particular kept this wide smile on his face as he traveled. Tarlo had been in this land long enough to know the wonders of it, but alone with friends beside him, the trees and foliage took on a whole new meaning. The troubles of battle were farther behind him, he thought he would mourn later, but he still felt safe and sound amongst this group of pirates who were charmed as much as mesmerized by his cheery attitude. Only Barbo kept a more serious look, he kept peering around at the bushes and steep inclines of hills, listened for birds, and would exchange looks with the sea otters who trudged behind, such as Canton who locked steps with Morland and Gapper. Both slaves looked about Mossflower in their own way, with Morland impressed by the size and majesty of the trees he had not thought would be this tall, and Gapper giving a frown as he temporarily locked eyes with Barbo and quickly returned his head to looking at the forest floor.

"Ya seem nervous, matey." Sagan nudged Barbo. Barbo didn't respond, much to Sagan's concern at first, wondering if he had done something wrong to offend him. Barbo usually would at least speak quickly, but he spoke up after a brief pause.

"It is nothing, good Sagan. I must admit, it does feel like we have been wandering for-" He again gave pause, even stopping in his tracks. Tarlo stopped to, wondering what the corsair Stoat would say.

"Awhile. We camped twice, so that is two days. Redwall at this pace should be close, at least the road should have been crossed."

"Admittingly, I wanted to think the same thing, good Barbo." Tarlo admitted, looking about "No wonder my father wants to conquer this land, this wood would enrich us for decades! These forests are so big, its rivers clean, and its people have been otherwise peaceful. Had we still had my army, we'd be slower in our advance."

"Yes, and that now concerns me. Tarlo, we should stop and scavenge for supplies and so forth."

"Oh? How come, surely we have enough from the last time we did it?"

Barbo smirked, pulling out from one of his bags a small berry and tossed it at Tarlo. He caught it as Barbo noted "Our last ration I am afraid. I was hoping we'd cross by some villages or find their chimney fires, raid their stores and so forth. Yet i've seen nothing."

It was strange, Tarlo had to admit, that for a land so majestic and rural as this, with many unclaimed forests and small homes, they had not seen many beasts. He had not even seen many vermin holes. "You are right, we shall rest here and gather what we can." He snapped his paw fingers and a gull's scream was heard, coming down to ground level with Tarlo. He patted Pecker's head and whispered something to him, the Gull lifting off elsewhere. The message he had sent Minto was missing, but Tarlo was certain his brother received it, though he also worried his brother had faltered in fighting that force which headed his way. Minto had not sent a message back to him, which had him somewhat worried, but he didn't exactly have a lot of means of sending messages back and forth, especially once they began to see yellow clad birds in the air.

Tarlo sat down on the ground of the forest, looking up the trees. Barbo and Sagan did as well, with Penolpe speaking in a commanding tone to Gapper and Morland "You two, put the things on the ground an' start marching. Need to find some berries, cones, an' anything good and edible. Come on! Don't make be bring out the whip." Barbo cooed back to his daughter "Happy foraging, my little flower.", with a happy and mixed tone as the two pushed the various things they had to the ground, and passed off their shackled prisoner to Sagan.

Sagan grumbled "I don't like it here, ya even dink dat army be still der at Redwall? By der time we get der, dat brother of yers will have taken Salamandastron."

"If that happens, he can be my father's heir." Tarlo rolled his eyes in a friendly way, speaking in a mocking tone to his brother "If it were up to him, he'd build a second mountain of cat and vermin bodies on that shore just to show off. Yet, I am forced to admit, he is better at that whole organization thing than I am. It's why father always favored him for command, and I the masterful recruiter."

"Indeed, though that army no doubt at Redwall is no less organized or as bloodthirsty than Minto." Barbo nodded "No vermin seems to be able to escape such a boring fate, of the bloodthirsty tyrant with more brawn than brains."

"Naturally." Tarlo said with pride, Barbo raised an eyebrow to this and then smiled "Naturally indeed."

The three sat down as Tarlo and Sagan picked up some small branches, kicking up some grass and dirt to make a fine brown soup of rock and mud. Tarlo made a little and highly crude map of Mossflower country, with an overly big Sandbeach far off to sea in the distance and a ^ shaped mountain of Salamandastron on its coast. Sagan made a frowning face in the dirt farther in the distance and pointed to it "Dis be wher Minto's camp be, an down furder here, be where we fought dem yella clads an lost."

"Redwall should be here then?" Tarlo pointed his stick the east of this map "We have been heading east, at least, we should be."

Barbo blinked with Canton sitting next to him under his shadow, as Sagan scratched his head "We had been, doh we did take a couple left turns around der hills, here?" Sagan scribbled into the map, and Tarlo blinked "No, I don't think hills go there, they should be like right here, right?"

"Nay, I've been der. Erm, lets draw a river, der River Moss. It be here."

"Oh. I thought there were some rivers to the south as well which flows into the Moss."

"Nope, dat be der Inland Lake."

"Lake?"

"Aye."

Barbo's eyes went a bit wide and he frowned heavily. He slowly got up, walking over as he abandoned Canton on the ground of their would be camp. He looked down at the map, looking to see what manner of masterpiece his friends were making and taking up a twig himself. He began to make his corrections.

His very unpopular corrections.

"No, no, no. There are not that many hills in Mossflower, and Sandbeach is not that close! Redwall isn't that far east, and certainly isn't past the river, and I am more than certain that it doesn't flow into the marsh, otherwise we'd have passed it by now. Look, let me draw a road."

"Barbo, I hate to say, but it looks like our river."

Barbo bicked up some small pebbles and placed it on the map "Better?"

"Kinda, matey. I remember der bein a big ol' rock here. Maybe a landmarker last time I be plunderen here."

"How big was the rock?"

"Erm, bought as tall as ya."

"Irrelevant then. No need to add it."

"Yet ya wanna add trees?"

"Yes, because we are in a forest, Sagan. Redwall is in a forest. This whole land is called Mossflower, and it's all one big forest."

The three argued, but slowed down one they looked at their troubled and overly complex and inaccurate map with despair. They knew the terrible truth, which was that no suggestion and no amount of accuracy could solve the trouble they had now. Tarlo sighed, saying what they all knew. "We're lost."

"Indeed. We must be somewhere in the forest, but we keep being unable to find the road. We need a proper guide, some beast who has been here before. The three stood up and kept up a frown as they turned over, hoping to find some rest at least to clear their minds.

Only to see Canton was gone.

"Oh." Barbo said, but before he could make orders to his friends, a panicked Tarlo was already rushing off. He looked at the ground, seeing the webbed feat go in a direction and quickly sprung into action. Sagan yelled after him "Wait, lad! We'-" Sagan's speech was too distant for Tarlo to make out, like a predator hunting in the night Tarlo was already rushing with wide eyes trying to look for Canton. He called out the only beast he knew "Morland! To me!" No response came as Tarlo stopped and heard a familiar jingle of chain. He turned, seeing a beast run in another direction as Morland came into view with a huff, following Tarlo's voice.

"Morland! Grab Penolpe! Canton has escaped!" Tarlo could now see Canton as Morland followed, trying to explain "I came as soon as you called, sir. Sir, please slow down!"

Tarlo wished Grof was with him, as he pointed his trident at Canton who was running through bushes and foliage, jumping down and up at small crevices in the forest as Tarlo kept up his pursuit. Canton, even with his legs shackled, was faster than Tarlo gave him credit for, but Tarlo was faster. He looked behind him, realizing the only beast with him was Morland, with Barbo and Sagan not within his sight. Tarlo angrily yelled at Canton as he got closer "Stop you wretched creature! Stop! Canton!"

Canton did not answer, as Morland could barely keep up himself, any thought of him running away himself was stopped by the idea of trying to outrun Tarlo next who seemed speechless and dedicated, as much as just the exhaustion of the mind. Canton suddenly stopped, looking around and began to run at Tarlo for a reason neither at first knew. Tarlo hoped this was some manner of luck on his part, Canton giving up running, up until he saw an ill dressed rat waving a cutlass at him "I see ya otter, get back here ya work beast!"

Another vermin, a ferret came out of the bushes, tackling Canton to the ground as Tarlo approached and then hid in some bushes, watching as the vermin began to surround Canton who was in a stage of begging as much as cursing his new captors "Oh for seasons sake, let me go you wretched rot brained morons! Let me go! Help!"

Another beast came out of the bushes with a beast catcher in its paw, coming over swiftly and locking his weapon onto Canton's throat. Canton felt the spikes prodding into his neck, forced to slowly rise as the beast holding it gleefully puppetted him with ease. Tarlo could see this was the bandit chief of this band of vermin, he wore a helm with the shape of feathers upon it, he was well dressed and mean looking, and he had the build of a stoat. Although he could not fully confirm, the stoat had a dark smile, as Canton held the beastcatcher and tried to claw at it fruitlessly. The inward spikes damaged his neck as the stoat yanked him towards him. Canton growled as the stoat looked to his legs, as his vermin surrounded him.

"Sea dog, wit a pair of shackles already. Ya be far from der ocean, workbeast. You'll do well in Gholand. Or even Jusbrag."

Canton spat in his face, which much to his surprise got the slaver to release him from the beastcatcher, but he realized a bit too late this was so the stoat could grab him by his shoulders and slam him to the ground, pressing his neck and face into the grass. Tarlo turned to Morland who caught up, hiding with him as Tarlo whispered to his servant "Go back, find the others and bring them here." Tarlo commanded.

There were a lot of vermin, as Morland protested "Sir, I don't think you'll take them all on, you'll-"

"Go quickly then, if they disappear with my prize, Minto nor any member of my family will ever forgive this." Morland tried to bring reason to the cat as he yelled out "You there, vermin, stop! He is mine!" Morland watched as the slavers drew weapons and looked as Tarlo approached with his trident extended. A fight no doubt commenced soon, as Morland turned and ran back to find Barbo and Sagan, hearing the stoat leader yell back.

"More like mine, ya whiskered cretan-"
_

Morland felt like a leader as he led Barbo and Sagan, with Penolpe and Gapper farther back but gaining distance. When Tarlo rushed into the forests after Canton, the stoat and fox pirates had blinked and Tarlo was just simply gone from sight and sound. It was a bit too quick for them to even notice, gathering weapons and trying to figure out who went where, and in turn split up to try to find Tarlo and assist him. Barbo was the last to find out, having gone in a bad direction only to find Sagan and Morland trying to find him, calling for him as they explained the situation to him. Barbo and Sagan rushed with Morland, fearful they would lose their way as the former marine peered at the ground and looked for the tracks left by the hasty cat.

"Bleeden hell, dat cat sure does run fast!" Sagan complained, Barbo would have made a jest, but in some way he blamed himself for the trouble they were now in. The group ran fast with Morland leading them, the otter looked genuinely worried which would had been surprising for the two pirates had Barbo not guessed that if Tarlo didn't make it, his life was likely forfeit. The three paused, with Morland coming across the familiar landscape and looked about. He pointed down below them to the disturbed grass and dirt. In the distance, they could hear voices as the three stealthy laid low, with the two vermin pirates taking out their respective weapons.

"Vermin bandits, Morland. How many exactly?"

"Three or five, I wasn't counting."

"Seven or ten then, it is a good guess a decently sized gang of slavers our dear Tarlo fell afoul with. You think we can take them Sagan?"

"Matey, I've slew vermin twice as brave an' twice as skilled den dees landlubbers of such a number, no need to worry fer me skill." Barbo couldn't tell if his friend was joking or not, but even if he was not, he knew himself a capable warrior. Barbo whispered to Morland "Stay back and tell my daughter to keep you and Gapper from running as well, if you would so kindly." Morland frowned, feeling insulted, but he just nodded and crawled back towards Penolpe who was coming within sight. The two pirate warriors slowly made their way through the brush, finding that this bandit camp was well hidden in Mossflower's underbelly. They expected a fight ahead as the two made a mad dash towards the voices, violently kicking their way into the camp with sabers out and ready for the fight of their lives.

Only to find Tarlo sitting and blinking at them, a cup of tea in his paws.

Barbo and Sagan bursted into the bandit's camp with sabers held high, and stopped once seeing Tarlo his true situation. The camp was a mismatch of small tents, clothes lines, and a pen of some unfortunate beasts whose paws were tied together with rope. The actual bandits were standing once they heard commotion, weapons drawn. Their chief in the winged helm had a cup of tea in his own paws, his legs criss crossed and sitting near a campfire. It was obvious by the shape and pink colors it was not his, but likely pilfered only recently. Canton was next to Tarlo, bound in a lot of rope with his muzzle even tied to keep him from talking, which didn't prevent the furious sea otter prince from struggling and growling to the best of his ability. Barbo lowered his saber, utterly impressed as Tarlo smiled and waved at him.

"Barbo! Sagan! Glad you finally came to my rescue, I had expected the both of you to arrive sooner. Zakz! These are my friends I was just speaking of." The stoat looked the pirates up and down and mumbled out a few private words. He commented "Ya said der would be more, two otters an' another stoat ya say?"

"Oh yes, not far behind I am afraid." Barbo lowered his blade further to the ground as Sagan growled out, not realizing the situation they were in. "Tarlo, what be goin on here!? Ya let dat cat go, bandit, or you'll-"

"It is okay, Sagan!" Tarlo raised his paw and his tea "I am fine, you see, I surrendered and I was just having a good talk with these fellow vermin of the, erm, you called it what now?"

"Der Great Vermin Band." Zakz said not so proudly, rolling his eyes. "Yes, that vermin host we were going to meet and greet with at Redwall."

Sagan looked around, and then to Barbo who smiled and was the verge of chuckling. The stoat corsair put his saber away as he introduced himself more formally "I see. Good Tarlo, I see our haste was not needed at all. Zakz is it? I am Barbo Senger, Corsair Extraordinar, good bandit."

"Slaver to ya, sea vermin." Zakz lifted his tea in a respectful tone to him, before chucking the tea cup at one of the slaves in ropes nearby. The cup shattered on something hard, a large wagon converted from a former circus. In place of the tea, Zakz took out a bottle from the ground and drank it, coming closer, Barbo could smell the rot of the wilderness upon him. For a beast like him, Barbo was surprised a more calmer creature like Tarlo could tolerate the smell and irritating looks of this bandit. Sagan didn't put away his saber just yet, holding it low.

"Yer friend is quite a talker, lads, I gotta say, when he popped out of der woods demanden dat otter back, he certainly be der biggest catch we gots. Me boss asks me to do some scouten an' a little raiden, so finding a western cat like him an' der lot of ya is quite a surprise, though dependen on how ya act, will be eder a pleasant or troubled surprise."

"To much the same to you as well." Barbo only gave a sly grin, as Tarlo drank his tea in peace. "Tarlo, perhaps we should leave these beasts to their duties." Barbo suggested.

"Oh no ya don't, dat cat be me prisoner, an' dat otter be mine to give me chief." Zakz warned. Sagan came close to him, puffing out his chest "Ya got some guts to say dat, matey."

"I sure do." Zakz boringly protested, looking about him at his small horde of fellow vermin slavers. One of the rats came out, a sword in paw and fellow bandit and slaver, with a nasty scratch across his face. He angrily grumbled "What we even waitien fer, Zakz? Lets just deal wit dem and drag em all back to der boss."

"Not yet Lekmert." Zakz seethed. Lekmert grew silent as the stoat came up close, using his beast catcher like a walking stick. He proudly grinned to the two pirates, feeling in full control. Tarlo called out to him "Now, now. None of that. Barbo! Sagan! Come, join us for something to drink, you'd not believe the fine taste of this, what was it again? Berry Tea?" Tarlo looked to a squirrel in the pile of captured woodlanders that the bandits had been keeping their hold of, the squirrel only gave a light nod to Tarlo's question, fearful of his captors. "I mean, just taste this! Such a delicacy!"

"Oh I would most gladly!" Barbo ignored Zakz, practically pushing the surprised bandit captain out of his path to sit so casually next to Tarlo and taking up a cup and pouring himself some fine drink. He tasted it, slapped his lips, and shrugged "Oh, I must say not a fan, I prefer a more sugary drink I am afraid. Do any of you beasts have rum by chance? Not any swill, good an' true rum for me and my friend Sagan here?" Sagan looked confused as much as flabbergasted, their rescue turned into a joke of sorts. He tried to take it more seriously, giving Zakz a critical eye before joining them. The vermin of the camp didn't stop them, awaiting for their chief's order as he joined them and snapped at one of his vermin "Well? Grab dis lot some drink den!"

"So Tarlo, how goes the imprisoned life?" Barbo asked. Tarlo chuckled "Less drastic as I suspected I must say. I am just happy my query is caught!" Tarlo slapped the back of Canton, who nearly jumped in rage, but was stopped by his own tiredness. Zakz drunk a bit more, burping loudly as Sagan and Barbo got their drinks from the gang. Tarlo, seeing the situation become calm again spoke up "As I was saying before, good Zakz, I was actually looking for you boss, but if you wouldn't mind I would like to meet him as a free beast, not a prisoner."

"Not sure I can do dat, cat." Zakz grumbled "Not dat it would matter much, Markem Brownnose be a weak chief an' a softie, he'd just as much call ya brudder den look down on ya bein me prisoner."

"Ya sound like ya don't like yer chief very much." Sagan questioned. Zakz grunted, as Lekmert spoke up "Der boss not sayen dat, ya buffoon. Markem just be a soft chief, not a terrible one."

"Ya be quiet Lekmert." Zakz warned. The rat looked frustrated, but again grew silent. Zakz shrugged "But he be right doh, me chief is soft but not terrible. Last we hears, he beat der Long Patrol in open field, rare fer a vermin horde like ours. Of all der hordes an' chiefs I've served an did dis business fer, Markem be der strangest. An der most successful. Though personally, not der biggest fan."

"How so?" Barbo asked

"Vermin work to be warriors, work beasts work fer der betters, an Markem don't like dat line. Not to say anyding loudly to der chief, just not very appreciative of it tis all."

"Not very rewarding either it sounds like." Tarlo mentioned. Zakz grunted "Not bad rations, but when der slaves get as good meals as we do, makes ya ask questions."

"A shame truly, you captured a son of Emperor Milo Greeneyes, surely there must be a great reward for that? Even this beast next to you is a prince of Green Isle. My responsibility previously, and I would like it to continue that way."

"Ya, but not sure what ya want me to do about it, cat."

Tarlo casually took a sip of his tea "Oh, easy, let me and my servant go, and whatever reward Markem would have given you we would triple."

"Ya can't be serious, cat, we ain't taken dat kinda bribe." Lekmert intervened again. Zakz rubbed his chin, giving another drink much to the rat's disappointment "Boss, ya really ain't considering it ain't ya?"

"I dun know, me reward tends to be a cut of loot an' some viddles, what exactly ya got cat? Three times of little is still too little in me books."

"A place in my father's army for start, captainship, with fine pay of dirhams with your own division of slaves and soldiers for your bidding plus whatever you have with you now." Zakz gave out a gurgling laugh. "Aye, an I got all dat under Markem, cat? I betray Markem fer ya an' without much to show fer it?"

"Ah, but Markem has something he cannot give you." Tarlo made a motion of his paws, presenting himself "I am the heir to the throne of Milo Greeneyes, Emperor of Sandbeach, and soon to be of Mossflower. Good Zakz, become my guide for me and my companions and join our horde instead, and your ally and friend shall be me, followed closely by the most famed pirates in all the western seas! The rewards my father would give you would pale to whatever a Mossflower warlord could ever give, especially once we win." Zakz had to think it over as his vermin gave him a strange stare. He continued to think, a silence flowing over his camp to give him the much needed concentration. He arose from his seat, and smiled.

"I gotta say, ya drive a hard bargain, Tarlo Greeneyes. Me chief."
_

Canton's face was put into a very serious frown, his paws bound and kept on a short lead which was handed over to the rat Lekmert, whose face was also in a serious frown. In front of them, Zakz led a wide eyed and enchanted Tarlo through Mossflower woods, their destination no longer towards Redwall, but to the Northeast. Tarlo asked many questions, and Zakz answered, their conversation occasionally interrupted only briefly by an equally mystified Sagan and Barbo.

"How? How does Markem own so much and yet treats his workbeasts so well? Surely there is some manner of magic he has? Is he terrifying? Does he hang his enemies from the walls, perhaps?"

"Dat der be the weird part, cat. He don't! Der slaves der would be twice as effecient an' less rude if we did. Hells, some bleeden black rat wit a weird voice came through an' bothered an ol' pal of mine, a fox ya'd even like. Keal. Fellow slave catcher ya see."

"I would surely love to meet him, good Zakz. Yet, I still wonder, does Markem collar all of his slaves with rope? Why rope and not metal? Metal seems more stronger."

"Ya been on our ships, lad, rope is pretty strong." Sagan reminded Tarlo. He nodded with some agreement as Barbo butted on in. "Yes, and metal is expensive Tarlo. Not every land has an iron mine, but making rope isn't exactly cheap either. Where does Markem get all this rope?"

"Me former chief has a few mice he buys from ya see, big ol' fat mice who make sailor's rope fer otter on the east shore. Most of it comes from dem, but der a few squirrels and hedgehogs who make some in workshops near Jusbrag's border I dinks." Zakz took out a piece of rope from a section of his belt, tossing it at Tarlo who held it in paw. He played with it, squeezed it even and made a realization "Oh. I see now I think. It is manipulative!"

"Rope can manipulate?" Zakz asked, almost in dumb astonishment. Tarlo shook his head "Oh, umm, no, I think I mean to say-"

"Changeable." Barbo corrected. Tarlo nodded "A bit better, but yes. If a younger slave grows, you can knot the rope as they grow so it doesn't choke them. To more loyal servants, you can relax the rope, to less so you can tighten it. No need for chain or shackles, just tie more rope to it and you bound the beast. Seasons, and to think, it must be fortune to buy all of it the way you describe it."

"A fortune?" Barbo noted "He is vermin is he not? Why not take what is his from his slaves?"

"Cauz dey ain't slaves, sadly. Der 'tributaries' or whatever Markem be callen dem."

"Tribut-" Tarlo began and thought it over "Serfs? Does your former chief mean he has serfs in his land?"

"What der heck is der difference?"

"Well, a slave is owned by one beast, a serf is as well, but they are bound to the land they work on, and whoever owns the land owns the beast on it as well. Tributaries, arm, ummm, they are lands for which pay a tribute to a liege lord in return for protection. In the west, you see, there are several realms I know of whi-"

"Den der serfs." Zakz said disinterested "Though dey are lucky we don't bleeden crush dem fer bein given der mercy of bein allowed to live so free! Bleeden woodlanders, all der riches hoarded in der homes while allowen beasts like me trouble!" As Zakz said this, he snapped at Morland who was with Gapper and Penolpe who were not far off, having joined on in. Morland didn't come over immediately till Zakz yelled at him "You der, sea dog, go grab me some bleeden grog before I smack ya into oblivion!" Morland didn't exactly fear the slaver as much as he feared Tarlo, looking to his master Tarlo looked back and nodded to him and in a rush he went off.

Canton grumbled as Lekmert tugged on his bonds, whispering "Ya dumb cretan, why'd ya drag dis treason tongued cat to me chief, anyhow? What ya got us into!?"

"Let me go and I'll tel-" Canton began, but a rock flew into his snout and his retracted in pain, touching his nose. The thrower was obvious, as Penolpe picked up another rock and gave him a dark look and hid the rock in her clothes. Canton became silent. Tarlo did not punish him, let alone speak to him, since his attempt at escape. The group was heading to a vermin fort in Gholand, and it disheartened Canton to hear the vermin successes here. Redwall and Mossflower he felt had been through worse, Cluny the Scourge had been inside of Redwall itself and was nearly victorious, Slagar the Cruel had the entire abbey dead to rights, and even Salamandastron had been taken once by a Greeneyes. Yet all the villains had met their end one way or another. Markem, Milo, all of them would eventually know the bitter defeat, and he only hoped he would see Tarlo perish in some much deserved way.

"Stop! We camp here." Zakz shouted. The small contingent of slavers stopped, the vermin and their prisoners began to set up camp. Canton looked pitifully at the woodlanders of the camp, each of them frightened or tired as the vermin set up tents all about. Tarlo looked over the vermin work. Zakz and Barbo went to the middle of this new camp site, they would rest here for a night before continuing on.

Tarlo had a hard time imagining what Markem would even look like, for he felt like a paradox the way Zakz described him. He had to be tall, and mean. He couldn't just be an average rat. No master of a horde can be simply a rat, they followed only the strongest and most worthy of leaders! They never followed just some common thug. Gholand itself sounded like a foreign land in itself, a mighty wooden fortress built like a vermin holdout. A temporary center to this growing empire under a brown banner.

"Ya dinken on dings, matey?" Sagan said suddenly. Tarlo snapped out of it, time had passed a bit too much, and before he could say anything he realized the vermin host that escorted him was finishing up. A fire was lit, food was being passed out, and he turned to Sagan who propped up against a tree. He looked less himself, a bit twitchy even as he shivered.

"I have been, good Sagan. You do not look well, you are not sick are you?"

"Nay, tis just bein on land fer so long matey. I hate bein far from der sea! I hate not haven wood beneath me, der sound of waves, an' der screams of gulls overhead. Ya spend as much time as I have on der open ocean, ya start to dink of yerself like a sea dog."

"We will return to sea soon, hopefully with this Markem Brownnose in tow."

"Hopefully not as a prisoner, Tarlo."

"Oh certainly not, Sagan. As a guest to bring to me father. However, he is but a pretender in this land, and my family has ruled it for a long time. When we return to this land, Sagan, we'll write the wrongs. My father will rule, and then I will. My sons will, and their sons will." Tarlo slightly frowned "Though, the burden of it, Sagan, I must admit, is troubling."

"I bets." Sagan lifted an eyebrow and approached him "Yet, if it be about burden alone, Tarlo, ya would have just as likely ran from it an' let yer brother be in charge."

Tarlo was silent as he stared through Sagan, giving a low sigh. He turned not to the vermin in the camp, nor the slaves who meandered in it, but to the night sky. He looked up to the very moon overhead of them, shining so brightly it could have been like a second sun.

"Sagan, look up and tell me what you see."

"Stars an' branches, Tarlo."

"Yes. This is the first time i've seen such a thing, truly. Its beautiful here, Sagan."

"I dun know about dat, Tarlo, tis just a forest like any utter. Der plenty like dem on Green Isle or-"

"On islands, but look at what I see my friend. Stars and trees, now look below us, at these beasts. I lied, Sagan." Tarlo sniffed. Sagan could see that Tarlo was holding something back as the cat held himself on high, keeping a look upon the vermin and the woodlanders alike. He looked to Zakz, keeping his voice low.

"My father wouldn't reward such a beast for betraying his loyalties to me, he'd have him branded and sent into the front lines like all the others. These beasts in this forest, Markem, all of them who had lived their lives so freely and so close to their home, if I don't take my place as emperor, these beasts will be gored and tormented by father, my mother, or my brother. God help me if my dear sister had to take such a place as me. These beasts, you, look into the night sky and just see what you have always seen. Yet, I see beauty. These beasts may have kicked us from this place so have it for themselves, but we can restore them to a happiness without war, without chaos and uncertainty. These beasts, Sagan. They are mine by birthright and I want to treat them rightly, better than Markem, better than my father, like the kings of old had done here."

Sagan raised an eyebrow to him "Ya want to treat dem better, like der kings of old? Like der Greeneyed monarchs before ye?"

"Yes?" Tarlo gave Sagan a strange look, as Sagan sighed "Lad, ya want de's beasts to be free right?"

"Free? No. Happy? Yes. I am sorry good Sagan, you enjoy your freedom of the sea, but Chaos isn't freedom. It isn't happiness. Order provides food to the hungry, beds for beasts to sleep in, no matter how depraved my kin try to corrupt it so. Just like my ancestors, I must strive to make the best of the world. I want all beasts to be happy and content."

"Ya dink conquering dis place will make dem happy?"

"They were happy and content before they rebelled, and now? This land is infested with bandits and anarchy. Green Isle pretends to be prosperous, this land is poorly developed but yet so beautiful. Like a garden with no gardener. When my people rule, we will build palaces, temples, true cities which will shine like those in the west-" Tarlo said happily, but began to frown harder after a pause "Without its infamous tyranny and cruelty of course. You ever been to the western shores, Sagan?"

"I've heard of dem, an' Barbo comes from der matey. From how he describen it? Sounds like a miserable place."

"Half of my family used to be little more than slaves in that land themselves, the House of Felis who took many cats to Green Isle to escape. They brought order to that island, made its people hap-"

Sagan interrupted him "Tarlo, lad, I need to ask ya something."

Tarlo became silent, looking at his friend who still shivered. "Tarlo, ya really dink des beasts are gonna be happy when ya put dem in chains an' force dem to work fer ya?"

"Its only temporary, to get them to obey, Sagan." Tarlo felt a shiver, not from the cool breeze which flowed across the country of Mossflower, but felt like he was speaking to a parent as if he broke an expensive toy. It was a strange feeling for him, but he meant it, as Sagan continued "Lad, ya smarter den most cats in dat camp, an' more brighter den yer brudder and fadder, even ya can't deny it. Ya aren't happy yerself, I don't dink ya want to bring order an' yer brand of civilization here, cause ya know full well dat its gonna make dees beasts miserable. Dey were miserable before ya know, under der first kings of dis land. Dey rebelled boy, dey'll do it again under ya. If not in yer lifetime, den der lifetime of yer kin."

"They rebelled because they were deceived, by the murderous rebel Martin the Warrior whose tyranny is well recorded."

Sagan gave him an odd look, as Tarlo looked fairly serious "He is recorded by many old scholars on Sandbeach, his deeds of cruelty kept the peoples in line, usurped the rule of Tsarmina's sons."

"Lad, I know der tales too, but Tsarmina had no kin. She perished fighten dat mouse, as me pa tells, an' every other beast will tell."

"Then they lie, it is simply lies printed by the woodlanders to tell themselves our rule wasn't just and kind."

"Yer rule was never just an' kind, Tarlo." Sagan said grimly "I've been to yer home, ya may be kind, Tarlo, even a little soft, but yer kindness only goes so far. I've seen hells more kind den dat place, an I dink ya know dat. If yer brother wins at der mountain, what be happen at sand beach won't just be fer sea dogs, but fer every beast here. I just want me ship, Tarlo, yer brother an' father already won dis place, but I ain't gonna be around to see how dey lose it, cause dey will. Western cats got schemes within schemes, I know enough about dem to keep me paws clean of dem. You could join us, Tarlo, you an' yer missus, on der open seas radder den dis trapped, miserable place."

"I won't do that, good Sagan." Tarlo said sadly "I wish it were so, but I have duties to my family. As a friend, I beg of you not to speak more of this or any further lies about my fam-"

"An as a friend, dat be der reason I tellen ya dis." Sagan cut him off suddenly, his voice more serious and upright, on a verge of anger. Tarlo did the only thing he thought would save his relationship, he turned his head and walked away, towards the growing fire of the camp. Sagan sighed, and shivered, missing the sea. He knew Tarlo thought of him as misguided, but Sagan could tell the cat had been living on an edge of contradictions, and only time would release him from the delusions he held. Sagan sighed and joined them, gifting from his shirt pockets a small flask of rum to Tarlo which he drank readily.

---

It had been a few days as the group marched out from where they had met, with Zakz having explained they had traveled not in a line, but in a strange shape of loops which bended around small forest hills. The vermin band and their prisoners marched northeast, finding some footing along the River Moss where the slaver band spread out to do as all vermin usually did. One of the members pushed a few weasels into the band, conscripting them as new members, Lekmert returned with a greedy grin on his face as he played with a sack of coin pilfered from some beat up woodlander he found trying to make it to Middle Mossflower, a growing safe haven amidst the war. Zakz had even one day caught an older shrew skulking near the river, puppeting the unfortunate woodlander with his beastcatcher straight into the camp and into his pile of prisoners. Zakz was proud of his profession, as Tarlo would learn, something the stoat had learned from his father.

Every day since finding Zakz, towards the end of the night, the four leaders of this little expedition would sit on the forest floor a little farther from the main camp. Tarlo, Barbo, Sagan, and Zakz sat, joined from the sides by Penolpe, Morland, Gapper, and Lekmert. Yet, the main guest of this little get together was Canton, who today with bound paws sat next to Sagan, looking ever the more miserable as the fox gave him a cruel pat on his back.

"Cheer up lad, I'll win again fer sure!"

Canton dared not curse, even though he really hoped the fox was right. Zakz grumbled, taking out a big deck of cards from his pockets and folding them. Penolpe nudged Gapper, ordering him about "Go grab us some food, workbeast. Morland, you too. I am thinking this is going to be a long game." The two sea otters sat up and went about their duties, Canton giving them dark looks as they went. Gapper didn't much care, but Morland only frowned seeing the sea otter prince giving him such a violent stare.

Zakz took out five cards for each of the four players, placing down the deck in the dirty middle. Yesterday was different, they had a rotted log they put it on last time, but this camp site lacked it. The group pulled up their paws, looking at their cards as Sagan gave a big frown.

Barbo smiled.

"Bad draw, good Sagan?"

"I swears, ever since bein away from me dears, both me mate an' der Black Sea Plow, i've had der worst luck since dat whole incident wit dat sea ferret!"

"Sea ferret?" Zakz asked, Barbo laughed heartily.

"Ah! Captain Shigamerink I believe his name was. Quiet a lad he was, utterly degenerated from his time at sea, utterly accidental in his success, and a devil's luck to boot! I miss him so. Too bad he likened himself your enemy Sagan."

Zakz only gave Sagan a strange look to which Sagan shook his head "Twas a ferret from der north ya see, I dink one of Kasg's blackclad captains who didn't like der ocean at all but had all manner of der seasons guiden over him. Never got into a bad spot, always looten der best ships, an' had no clue what he be doin, always sayen he wanted to be back to shore. Finally caught him an' had him languish on a deserted isle fer all der trouble he gave me!"

"Is he still alive there?" Tarlo asked

"Nay, last I checked, der be nutten but bones I dink, of a ferret. Deserved der landlubber right in me books."

Sagan picked up a card from the pile. He had now six cards; five of diamonds, four of spades, three of hearts, two of hearts, jack of hearts, and his newest card was a spade ace. Canton looked at the turn passed to Tarlo, peacefully taking up a card, and then Barbo. Zakz however did not, instead putting down a 9 of spades faced up on the ground, and thus beginning the game.

This was a game of War and Peace, a vermin bastardization of any normal card game invented entirely by Zakz and Barbo after they drank themselves into a stupor and made it up on the spot. Canton had played cards before with his brother and his soldier, he never understood it fully, but this was not how any card game should have been played, at least with this deck of cards. Each player began with five cards, the goal was to have the highest score. The game stopped when one player had removed their cards from their hand. The catch was simple, whatever cards were placed down, was one's score. Whatever was still held in one's paw was subtracted from one's score. Each player could only do one move; placing down a card or drawing a card. Each night, a new rule was added; the first night when Barbo won, he had skipped his turn so now no one was allowed to skip. The second night when Sagan won, there was an argument about Jokers. It was agreed upon that Jokers was an immediate failure if you had it in your deck by the end of the game, but playing them cost 0 points. Tonight there was a new rule added by Tarlo; if there was a tie, both players drew one card each, revealing the winner of whoever held the lowest valued card.

"Bold I see, and so early the rush." Barbo commented. The game continued, as the most prized card was the king, worth far more than any card. Sagan put down his jack, as each player held different philosophies to their victory.

Canton could see that Tarlo held a calm paw, he rarely showed interest when it mattered which made his fellow players nervous of what he could put down and what he couldn't. Barbo was bombastic and loud as ever, a lover of drama and always sought the largest cards and gleefully pulled another one from the deck. Sagan was a cautious player, being slow and never quick to reveal what he had. Zakz was quick to the draw, he quickly put down cards and liked to rush out and force the game to end quickly, but only on his terms.

The game continued on as normal, drinks and food were presented by Gapper and Morland as the players kept their eyes on the game. Lekmert came close to his boss, shoved away as the stoat looked fiercely at his deck.

Canton realized for beasts like Zakz, the calm nature of a card game was not a vermin form of playfulness or even fun, what was fun was gambling. However, vermin like Zakz had very little to gamble.

So it was decided he himself was what was being gambled on.

Canton's hate of the vermin felt like it could only grow more than lessen. Every night, as he watched these vermin play their game, it was his life and well being which was gambled upon. The winner the next day got to use him as they saw fit, much to his dismay. Barbo's first winning made him a decidedly spiteful creature, the strongest hater of this card game, as Barbo had him act like a common western servant, sending him on tasks to call forth Tarlo for minor conversations and carry messages more than a few feet away. His duties were made very clear and specific by Penolpe who made sure he didn't stray far from his path. Sagan wasn't kinder, having to clean his clear and fix up his tent borrowed from Zakz's vermin, along with carrying his things, but Sagan at least was agreeable and didn't seem to take direct pleasure from his torment.

Barbo smiled gleefully, looking to Canton as he laid down a king upon the ground, mockingly speaking "Oh, I have so much I wanted to teach you in terms of fine etiquette, Canton Wildlough. By the next game, you will have mastered the fine art of boot scrubbing."

Zakz scratched his head, taking up another card, turns passed as Barbo mocked their new compatriot. "You played your paw to early, good Zakz. Should have just kept drawing cards."

"I ain't done yet, ya salt brained wretch." Zakz smiled, with Barbo putting down a 7 next upon the ground. Zakz smiled, putting down a queen next. It became clear that Barbo was winning, as he put down a jack so confidently next. Zakz was down to his last card. As the game draws close to an end, with Zakz having his last card in paw, Barbo confidently put down a small and pathetic 4, and playfully twisted the last card in his paw revealing a 2. The first beast who put their cards down had an advantage in some respects, but put them at risk if they did not have the right cards. Those who played too cautiously could be easily punished for their caution. Canton frowned, not exactly thrilled that he would be spending the next day In Barbo's care.

Zakz looked frustrated, but then he stopped and looked up and gave a big, wide grin.

Facing down upon the ground was his last card, a king much to Barbo's utter shock. Barbo was beside himself looking at the cards and counting them in his head. He growled and threw his last card on the ground like an upset child as Sagan and Tarlo giggled, but their new companion pointed and laughed.

"Ha! Hahahaha! Got ya wit der best trick in der book, ya flea bitten, rot brain! Take dat, corsair! Ha!"

Canton looked at Zakz who got up, nearly doing a little dance with excitement at the prospect of winning, Barbo grumbled but accepted his fate peacefully. Zakz came over to Canton, forcing him off the ground "Sorry to say lads, but looks I win dis time! Now ya comin wit me, I got plenty to show ya on what yer doin, sea dog."

Canton dared not resist, knowing if he did, he would be doing tasks at the end of Zakz beastcatcher no doubt.
_

Zakz sat back against a tree. Winning from last night had made the stoat intensely proud and docile, a mood his vermin were not used to seeing him in. Usually easy to anger, the stoat silently admitted he was making a fine choice, giving out an occasional order to Canton who sat next to him, the sea otter's paws on a scrubber and Zakz boots in front of him.

"I don't hear ya scrubben, sea dog."

"I am, vermin."

"Talk back to me, an' i'm usen dem boots to kick ya all der way to the next camp site."

Canton scrubbed faster on the boots, his paws felt weak as Zakz relaxed, putting his paws behind his head. Canton looked forward to the vermin camp, seeing most were uneasy. Lekmert poked at a campfire with a stick, their march for the day cut short due to a sighting of frogs. Frogs could be hostile, and neither Zakz nor Tarlo wanted to provoke them unless totally necessary. Canton scrubbed the vermin's working boots, these large and browning things of stitched wood and bird leather, barbaric and dirty in appearance. The stoat got up briefly, took some mud from the ground and threw it into the boots, splattering on Canton and what was his previous work.

Canton growled, angrily pointing his now dirty scrubber at Zakz "You want these clean or not, vermin!?"

"I do, ya just ain't doin in right, do it again till ya get it right. Dat fellow stoat dat taken a liking to ya gave me some ol' suggestions on what to do wit ya."

"Suggestions?" Canton realized Barbo gave some advice to Zakz, something he felt like he should have expected, but another question entered his mind. He asked, as if expecting the answer.

"You played a game for my servitude, and you have no idea what to do with me?"

"Its about der game, not about you, an I still don't hear ya scrubbing."

Canton pretended to scrub harder "For a scum sucking slaver, I'm not sure I should be surprised or not. You vermin try forcing us to work, but for a beast like yourself not to have some poor beast doing every little thing for you?"

Zakz smile didn't change, turning to Canton. He yelled out "Oy! Trolan! Get over here ya dumb fool!"

There was padding of some feat, with Canton turning to see a fairly well built hedgehog running over, the clink of chain as he rushed quickly past a few vermin, holding his paws together with his feet shackled together by a long length of chain, and from the reddening around those feet it seemed like it had been bound to him for a long while now. The hedgehog had a rope around his neck, looking sheepish as he bowed his head to Zakz "Yes, me master. How can I serve today?" Trolan smiled widely, not warmly, just wide enough which made Zakz grumble.

"Trolan, take dis fellow slavebeast to der tent an' cook me up somethen good. Sea dog, dis here be Trolan. Trolan, dis dumb as bricks beast be Canton. Say 'hi' Trolan." Trolan introduced himself with a dramatic and wild bow. Canton felt utter disgust, not by the smell of wildness of vermin about him, but by his behavior. It reminded him a bit too much of Gapper and Morland, the smiling servant made the sea otter prince sick as the hedgehog brought him up and dragged him along, shouting back "Oh, I'll fix you up something good, sir Zakz! Straight away!"

Trolan showed Canton to his own personal station, next to a vermin tent. Canton had seen him before, but for all intents and purposes he thought he was just yet another captive of Zakz's camp, for he certainly looked like it. He looked beaten on, slight black around his eyes, shifty in appearance and even malnourished. He kept his paw on Canton, looking behind him to Zakz who had not moved as he took up a small clay pot and handed it to the sea otter. "You ever baked anything before, good sir?"

"No, and I ain't." Canton protested

"What ya mean you ain't? You cooked before right?"

"I ain't cooking for that cretan, and neither should you." Canton growled "I am no slave."

"You are a woodlander right?"

"I am!?"

"Then you are a slave." Trolan shrugged. Canton looked annoyed as the hedgehog went about some of his business, now openly complaining "Look, at least pretend you are doing something at least."

Canton folded his paws, refusing to do anything at all. Trolan frowned and spoke up "Look, if you don't do something, sea otter, they will."

"They'll beat you anyways as much as they'll beat me, not like it matters what you attempt to do or not. I ain't playing their games."

"You have to."

"I got me choices."

"You don't." Trolan said, a slight panic in his voice. He calmed down as he looked behind him, and without much warning he got a nasty hit with a willow branch across his face. He gasped and covered his head, pathetically bending his knees and going low. Behind them both was Lekmert, waving his branch at them both "Ya slacken on me boss's watch, an' you'll get worse spikeback."

"I am sorry, good Lekmert." The hedgehog apologized. Canton spoke up "There is no need for that, you sc-" He didn't finish before he felt a wild pain across his face and on his nose. Lekmert flicked his branch at him next in a harsh manner, causing his nose to blister and bleed as Canton fell back on the small station. Canton caught on quickly as Lekmert grabbed his shirt and pulled him close "Ya talk back to der likes of me like dat, boy, an' I'll gut ya right here an' now. Don't care what dat cat of yers says." Canton was shoved down onto the ground and got a kick in his stomach for good measure by the ill tempered vermin before he marched off. Trolan helped the sea otter back up, on the verge of tearing up before they turned to their ruined station. Feeling bad in some way, in silence the two rebuilt it.

"Zakz likes his bread warm, we got flour, right over there." Trolan commanded Canton about, and he did what he asked. Weak from the profession of resisting his captors, the two servants began to build a proper meal to be cooked. They went over the middle of the camp fire and began to cook, although it became a one beast job as Canton sat and rested. Trolan looked at the meal with a strong sense of urgency and concentration. Canton noticed something about his unfortunate companion, his clothes were ruined but not Mossflower proper, his fur was graying of sort. He was a hedgehog, but he had to ask.

"You aren't from Mossflower, are you?"

Trolan nodded. "From the north, sir Canton. Before I joined this band, me father was a slave in the horde of Usmon the Wretched, a fat and bloated ermine warchief from the far north. The one and same."

"Usmon the whom?"

Trolan looked surprised "Usmon. You know. The bleedin ol' Wretched King of Pelosgran. The big ol' fort Kasg burned down."

Canton only blinked, as the hedgehog weaved him a story. "Me pa had a big ol' family ya see, twelve brothers, all of them servants of Usmon in his keep. Me grandpa built his walls, me pa even served his mistress wine till he spilled some by accident. I spent me first remembering years lighting torches along the walls. Every beast I knew was a slave in that fort, every woodlander I knew except a few rabbits were slaves. Then Kasg came, like every other warlord before him, an' killed Usmon and his entire brood in cold blood. Ya ever meet a warlord like Kasg, Canton?"

"I am fine saying I haven't. What was he like?"

"Small. Black. Yet his eyes, sea otter. I was lined up wit me pa, he reviewed us, saw one of us, some poor squirrel, was sick and immediately ordered him taken away and killed. The vermin he-" Trolan paused, and frowned "Well, best not to say, especially when cooking. Spent many years in his growing horde, carrying things for his beasts, setting up tents, doing their bidding as i've always done. Its what we all do, every single day. Forever."

"It ain't gotta be like dat." Canton whispered.

"Its gonna be like that whether you like it or not, sea otter. Kasg burned the last free cities, an' Markem's horde, well, he won. He hasn't won like completely yet, but he may as well be the Kasg of this realm here. I don't know where you come from, good sir, but here you have to do as they tell you. Or you'll get harmed, sir."

"I-" Canton slowly whimpered "I can't. I can't give up, not for me people or me pa! I am a prince of Green Isle, I have to-"

Canton didn't get much time to regain himself before he felt something quickly slap around his neck, and felt a familiar sting on his throat. He barely even reacted to seeing Zakz beastcatcher on his neck, like a puppet he was forced up by Zakz as the sea otter kept his paws trying to balance the tool keeping him place. Zakz came over, slightly kicking Trolan "I never known ya to talk too much, spikeback. Ya ain't getten ideas from dis dumb moron, eh?"

Zakz shook the beastcatcher, to which Canton tried to keep with the movements but still felt small punctures to his throat. Trolan frowned at first, as if wanting to remove his act before smiling and giving a wide and delicate performance. "Oh no, master, I don't have thoughts at all, it is just a delay when Lekmert pushed me into me station and knocked over all my things! Your meal will be done soon, sir!"

"Of bleeding course." Zakz grunted. He pulled Canton along, before forcing him next to him again, but not removing the beastcatcher from his throat. Once again Canton found himself facing the boots and a scrubber pushed by Zakz's feat over to him. Without order or hesitation, with the gripping prodding spikes at his throat, Canton began his work again. Zakz loomed over him, gripping his beastcatcher and gleefully looking down.

"Yer doin it wrong, sea dog."

Canton knew he wasn't doing it wrong as he felt the prodding of the beastcatcher slowly tighten about his throat, Zakz manipulated the pole to get it to the most uncomfortable position he could. He forced Canton up again and yelled at him "Turn around, scum." Canton did as told, wanting the pain and humiliation to just stop. He looked at him straight in the eyes, his paws weakly trying to balance the metal sinking at his throat.

"I want ya to say it, Canton Wildlough. I want ya to say 'Yes, master Zakz, I be doin it wrong, let me do it better.'"

Canton said nothing at first, but Zakz yanked on the beastcatcher. For the stoat, he wanted to see a reaction from him, he wanted to see this prince do something so stupid he would regret it. He wanted to have fun with his new play thing before he passed him back to Barbo in their next game.

"Yes, master Zakz, I am doing it wrong, let me do it better."

Zakz lifted an eyebrow to this. For all the anger, rage, and rebellion Canton had shown to others, he was unsure what to make of what he heard at first. Canton said it in an almost begging voice, trying to just keep himself from getting harmed. Huh, usually dey don't break dat fast. The beastcatcher was released from Canton's neck and he dropped to the ground as Zakz went back to his tree, his meal presented by Trolan. Canton returned to scrubbing the boots, in silence as the stoat gave a confident smile to the sky.
_

Canton looked tired and miserable, as yet another game of War and Peace began once again. Zakz and he were the last to come in, as Canton was led into a small clearing. Before him was a stump, Barbo, Sagan, and Tarlo sat around already handing out each other's cards. Canton was led into the little forest with his paws tied, his feet shackled, and Zakz's beastcatch casually around his throat and pulled gently. Tarlo looked up, grunting with annoyance and protested to Zakz "Oh come now, the deal was to trade this beast about, not damage him! Did he try to run or something, good Zakz?"

"Nah, he just be a lazy beast, ain't dat right princeling?" Canton tried to be brave and keep quiet, but a quick prod on the beastcatcher made him confess "Yes, master Zakz, I was lazy."

"See, ain't hard fer ya to admit it, eh?" The beastcatcher was released and Canton found himself next to the slaver. Barbo chuckled lightly "A very physical way of going about, good Zakz, and I must admit, I have not heard that beast so eager to speak so highly of another fellow stoat! I must commend you on your craft, good sir."

Zakz shook his beastcatch and laid it upon the forest floor, Sagan offering his cards to him as he proudly spoke "Me former chief, a big ol' fellow stoat gave me dis here beauty a long time ago. Tells me 'Zakz, yer a terrible scout, but ya can catch beasts like no odder, I got der tool right fer ya!'. Dis here beauty be der best ding any beast can give to der likes of me, an' it works like a charm. Once dis pronged collar gets around beasts neck, dey become limp like a muppet! Beautiful ding to see really."

Sagan nodded "I bets, so long as ya don't become der muppet yerself."

Barbo looked at his paw, and cracked his fingers with anticipation, gleefully smiling "I have a strong feeling of winning tonight! Canton, I have plenty of things for you to do tomorrow, so I hope your time with good Zakz here has not dulled you out! Lets get st-"

"Wait." Canton spoke up.

There was a silence, as the group stared at him for a moment. Zakz angrily nudged him "Ya be quiet, sea dog an' let better beasts play der game. You'll be doin one of our dirty work soon enough. Alright, whose turn first?"

"I want to play." Canton spoke more firmly.

Tarlo was quiet, only blinking to the demand. Barbo and Sagan laughed out loud to the request, with Barbo nearly dropping his cards from laughter. Zakz didn't find it very funny, even downright embarrassing, as he growled at him and wanted to lay down his cards and slap the sea otter to some manner of senses. Canton looked at Tarlo, who spoke up "Alright, what is your condition?"

The group became suddenly deathly silent, as Tarlo's tone was more serious than either Sagan or Barbo had been used to. Canton at first looked even afraid to speak up, but he came up with the idea on his way here. He shifted, trying to keep his dignity as Sagan spoke loudly "Ya taken dis seriously, Tarlo?"

Tarlo awaited the otter's answer, as Canton spoke up "I play, I am owned by no one. My condition is my freedom."

"Oh?" Barbo said with surprise and wonder "A truly dangerous game, is it? That is quite a condition."

"Ya can't be taken it seriously." Zakz said, feeling no need to be insulted but yet had a need to show his displeasure. Canton ruined his vibe of being the beast to break him, much to his annoyance. Tarlo thought it over and nodded "Fine, but only if you accept my condition, Canton."

"That is?"

"If one of us wins, you give in. No more running, no more complaining, you accept your role as our servant until we all perish. By your honor as a Prince of Green Isle, and on the honor of your ancestors, you swear this."

Canton thought it over, a long silence as the two princes locked eyes. Canton's rebelliousness returned, and then confidence. The seasons are wit me, and so is Tiria Wildlough. I will win this, that cat is bound by his family's honor, and so am I! "By your honor as a Greeneyes, you swear you'll let me go if I win."

"I swear on King Mortspear, my ancestor, and by my father Milo, Emperor of Sandbeach. I will not ask you to swear upon the honor of your country, Canton Wildlough, for by right of blood it is also mine. You agree to my terms then?"

"I swear on my ancestor Tiria Wildlough, on my father Sarlo Wildlough, and on by my clan. If I lose, I am your servant till the end of your days."

"And if you win, you will walk free." Tarlo took up five cards and handed them to Canton who stared at them. Canton's eyes nearly widened, holding back a smile. In his paw were two kings; a diamond and a heart, and a 10. He held his cards closely, as Sagan commented "Ya sure about dis, lad?"

"Good Sagan!" Barbo said with a fine shout "No need to dissuade us from a good time! This is truly a most spectator twist, one which no beast could ever ask for, which is why I must admit good Tarlo I am glad to know such a weaver of fate and story! The two princes, duking it out in a game of cards, determining the fate of nations! However, it is not yet perfect." Barbo snapped his paw fingers as Penolpe came over and he whispered to her, she nodded and she grabbed Canton who kept his cards close, surprised as the stronger daughter of the corsair plopped him down facing Tarlo, practically kicking Sagan from a more comfortable spot. Canton didn't resist, letting it happen as the group took their positions. Tarlo was silent, beginning the game as he took up a card.

Zakz grunted with annoyance, and laid down his first card on his turn. Canton was baffled at first, he had laid down a 4 of hearts, a card which seemed worthless unless he was hiding larger cards to get others to lay down quickly as well or make poor decisions. It was Canton's turn next and he thought it through. Laying down a king will get everyone to panic, but laying down all my cards is risky. I would potentially win if I play it calmly. He picked up a card, much to his amazement, it was a queen of diamonds. Sagan grumbled, picking up a card and frowned, revealing quite quickly his deteriorating situation of his terrible hand. Barbo picked up his next card, smiling gleefully.

Tarlo blinked, laying down the king of spades. He licked at one of his claws as the turns began to move faster. Zakz laid down a much larger card, a 10 this time, and Canton's turn came up. He laid down his first king himself, matching Tarlo's. Canton felt he was in the best position he could be, Sagan took up another card and Barbo put down a jack. Tarlo took up a card himself, and for once Zakz chose to improve his deck. Canton however began to smile, putting down yet another king.

"Ohhh." Barbo commented "Quite brave are we? You feel it Canton Wildlough, a surge of confidence?"

"The seasons and me ancestors are with me, vermin." Canton said proudly.

Tarlo was silent, not even staring at him when he took up another card into his paw, and looked less pleased. Canton could only guess Tarlo chose a poor card this time, as Zakz grumbled and took his next card as well. Canton put down a queen next, impressing Barbo "Quite a close spot to victory I am afraid, Good Tarlo. I am afraid our dear Canton here may just earn his freedom."

"The game hasn't ended yet, good Barbo." Tarlo reminded him. Tarlo sighed, putting down the last king on the field; The King of Clubs. There was a panic now in Canton's eyes, now realizing that Tarlo had a paw full of good cards himself. Or perhaps full of half decent ones. Canton put down a card, his 10, a strong lead over others. Yet his two remaining cards concerned him. They were small, which was good when someone else was close to winning to get the advantage, but not great when others held an advantage themselves or low cards in their deck. It was Tarlo's turn again, he put down a queen. The two princes stared at each other, with Tarlo not moving much at all, an in fact loomed over Canton like a shadow. Canton looked at the others; Zakz laid down a 9, Barbo picked up a card, and Sagan laid down a rather pathetic looking 2.

Canton's turn was next as he thought it over with the cards he had. He had 2 cards left; a 5, an ace. He laid down his ace, counting a little more than 1. Canton expected Tarlo to lay down a larger number in turn, but when it became Tarlo's turn, Canton realized his too had only two cards left himself. Barbo was laying down an impressive field, clearly playing a long game but had still a paw full of cards, hoping that others would not end the game so quickly. Tarlo's pause ended, he sighed and took up a card and laid on the field.

A Joker.

0 Points.

Canton smiled widely as he looked at the field. He had one cards left, but in that deck were several larger cards. He wanted to lay down his last card, and be done with it, until he noticed a glint in Barbo's eye. The stoat had two cards still, and no doubt his smile was not just because he was happy with the state of affairs. He looked down at Barbo's field. Barbo's field had some fairly high cards, not as impressive as either Tarlo's or his deck, but if Tarlo put his Canton thought it over; What if he has a really low deck, what if-

Canton looked at the deck, he knew he was winning, but perhaps he needed to be safer, have a larger lead just in case. He didn't like Barbo's smile at all, and he slowly reached for the deck. He pulled a card and looked at it, and his heart sank and his eyes became wide with fright. He began to mumble.

It was a joker.

There were 2 jokers in Zakz's deck.

"A fine choice, Canton, you are smarter than you appear." Barbo said as his turn came around, he pulled out a card and frowned. Barbo looked at Tarlo with his one card left in paw. Tarlo looked at Canton, barely able to hold back weeping as he put down his last card, an ace, upon the ground and ended the game. The players revealed their cards, and put them to the side to subtract their losses. Barbo had somehow lost big, his deck was full of bigger cards like 8s and 9s, Zakz was holding onto smaller 4s and 5s, and Sagan comically had a bunch of 2s and 3s. Canton refused to lay down his cards, in disbelief and he was visibly upset. Tarlo blinked as Barbo took notice and came on over to him. Canton held the joker in his paws, mumbling.

"I was winning, I was winning, I was-" Over and over again.

Barbo only smiled, pulling the joker from his trembling paw and commented "You certainly were, I believe you are the winner Tarlo."

Tarlo nodded "Good to hear, tis a fun game. Canton, come, I will show you to your chores." Tarlo got up and handed his cards over to Morland who had been silently cheering the prince from his mind, but sighed to see his defeat. Canton was forced up by the cat, guided back to the vermin camp and much to his own credit did not resist him. He wanted to reverse time, to return to putting down that 5 and winning his freedom, and kept mumbling to himself "I was winning, I was-"

Tarlo slightly shook him, and he became silent. Canton could hear Barbo and Sagan laugh heartily, as Zakz chuckle gleefully in the distance. As Tarlo had him enter the camp, he closed his eyes, trying the hardest he could to reverse himself to a time before he was a captive, and slap his past self from going on this adventure. For once, he began to regret trying to help his brother, and for a brief moment he wished his brother took his place. He knew it was selfish, but he hated himself more than the vermin around him. You stupid beast, Canton. You stupid, miserable beast.
_

Canton slept perhaps the most peacefully he had since his capture. It was true that his discomfort came from his legs being shackled together and his neck wrapped in a long length of rope pegged to the ground outside of Tarlo's tent, but compared to his other captors, Tarlo at least left him alone to sleep. He awoke by himself and got up, seeing Morland preparing his master his breakfast with Gapper doing the same across from him on a campfire in the midst of the vermin camp. Canton tugged on the rope of his neck, as if reminding himself of his awful situation as Tarlo yawned loudly and came out of his tent and fixed up his uniform. Tarlo looked to Canton and untied the rope from his neck as Tarlo gave the sea otter prince his orders.

"Head high, good Canton, with paws behind your back. That is a proper way of being presentable and professional in your duties as a servant." Canton paused at first, but he frowned and slowly lifted his head high and his paws retreated behind his back. Tarlo frowned at the hesitation, but nodded that it at least was a better result "Well, better than the last time i suppose, alright, come on in, I have duties and chores for you." Tarlo showed Canton into his tent, which was surprisingly messy. Although Tarlo was borrowing the tent from Zakz, the cat had borrowed a bunch of other things as well such as small bits of food, a chair, blankets, clothes, pillows, and a couple of books. Canton spotted an oddity amongst them, no doubt pilfered by Zakz in his raids, a larger yellow tome with the words printed 'Histories of the Relationships between Southward and Mossflower', imprinted with a golden bell with a mouse monk and a squirrel noble joined in paws.

"Now pay attention, I'd like not to repeat myself, good Canton." Tarlo snapped him out of his wondering as Tarlo gave a difficult smile "It is a less known secret I can be, erm, messy. Though that is where you come in. I would like my bed square, neat, and at best comforting to read my books in. My pillows I need in a L shape if possible for lounging. These clothes, here, I need washed by the time we move."

"I could have won." Canton without thinking blurted out. Tarlo turned to the sea otter, and sighed. Canton did not look himself, rested sure, but he looked more miserable than ever. "You promised on your ancestors to serve me for a game, Canton Wildlough."

"I don't want to serve. I don't want to be here."

"You need to learn to say 'sir', Canton. Or master. To me, its just 'sir'. 'Master' just feels off, and a bit too long."

Canton blinked and sighed "I don't want to serve, 'sir'."

"Well that is better, but you don't got much choice in the matter. In fact, you don't got a choice at all."

Canton grumbled "Why? Why are you vermin like this!?" Canton pointed to the pile of things he must now do "You folks are all like this! You can't do it yourself, so you force us to do it, good woodlander folk instead of just leaving us alone!" Canton silenced himself, clearly angry and frustrated as he apologized "I am, sorry, I made a deal, an' by me honor I must follow through with it."

Tarlo sat down and rubbed his head and spoke, in a more serious tone as much as a sorrowful one. "Canton, I must ask you. Do you wish to serve me miserably, or serve me happily?"

Canton didn't like the question, and asked in turn "Sir, I don't want to serve you at all."

"Thats the issue, Canton, you and I have no choice in that matter. It is by my father's will and blood, and the will and blood of my ancestors, that I must rule you. I am the one that has to put your people into the yoke, I am the one that has to bring order to rebellious provinces of my heritage. You mistake me for thinking I want you all to be miserable. I want you to serve and be happy in doing so. My father is going to win this war, whether you like it or not, he is going to go to Green Isle, and my mother is going to sit on the throne your father sits in now. Then after her, it'll be me, but more likely my brother Minto will. I cannot stop it. You can resist all you want, Canton, but at the end of the day your people will be mine, and the difference will only be if they were miserable servants to be punished forever, or content servants and are punished only so often. That is the order of this world, Canton."

"It ain't have to be like that, 'sir'."

"Is it? Across the sea where my people live Canton, cats live in chains as you do. The line of Felis is not well respected there. Nor is Greeneyes. My family ruled this land and Greeneye with mercy, and if you think us cruel, what do you think the sultanates and lands beyond are? You know what they do to woodlanders in the west? In one land, a Reich they call it, they crop their tails and put them in chains. There hasn't been freedom in that land for a long time, and they will come here. Not in our lifetimes, but eventually and it will be worse, Canton. Your people think of me and my father as monsters, but you'll be begging us to be their masters once the real threat comes."

"You bring them regardless!" Canton wanted to yell, yet had no breath for it. He felt like a mad creature speaking to a wall. Tarlo partly yelled back, getting angry himself.

"You think my words are just hollow, sea otter!? Your family murdered mine, and for what! Just so we can conquer and bring order to your island again. I am the descendent of Mortspear, a descendant of Riggu Felis, by blood and rite of conquest I own this land and Green Isle! You must behave, Canton, or you'll force my paw!"

"What, harm me as you already do?"

Tarlo pointed outside to Morland "Must I remind you!? That mark is permanent, Canton. It is given to those who cannot be truly tamed. I cannot understand how you throw my mercy aside so brazenly!"

"Ya call this mercy!?" Canton pointed to his scratched nose, but he was truly pointing to himself in his miserable form.

"Yes! You think we can't do our own chores, Canton!? You think of us that lazy? I can do it myself, but I take on servants because I know full well what you'll be doing if I do not! If I present you to my father, a mark on your cheek, he will gleefully just throw you to some quarry where you'll mine ore and break rocks till your days grow dark! Your servitude is mercy. The alternative to your existence is either working in misery or working happily, how is this so hard to understand!"

Canton was beside himself, and made a realization as Tarlo collected himself. He realized that Tarlo was very much serious. Just as he felt like he was yelling at a wall, Tarlo felt he was yelling at a mountain to move. Canton grew silent, with Tarlo thinking he had won, when Canton could only figure out one, terrible truth from it all.

You are all mad. If you are all mad, I am mad! I am mad! A crazed beast, serving another!

Canton had no clue what he could say to break through to the cat, as he closed up his statement "Now please, for the sake of God, I ask of you to obey me. I will have to present you to my father one of these days, and I need you perfect, or he and mother will just gore and torment your island. I want your people to just give up, give into the inevitable. Just as my ancestors before had ruled your land, they will do so again no matter how many time you rebel. We will always win, just like the night before, just as it is now, and into the far, far future." Tarlo said this with sadness and took his leave, leaving Canton alone in the tent. His pause did not last and over time he began to do as the Cat had asked him.

He put the pillow and blankets in the right spot, took out the clothes and cleaned them nearby, ignoring the annoying and hefty clink of chain on his feet which dragged with him everywhere he went. He fixed up the tent near perfectly and soullessly left the tent. Gapper and Morland, having finished their own duties, looked over at Canton with concern, his paws trembling as he held that rope in his paws. Gapper quickly walked over to not draw attention to themselves and Morland joined him. Canton looked over at them, a tiredness in his eyes as he looked them up and down, no longer in disgust, but in mutual understanding.

They are mad as well, they are all mad. I am mad. This is a mad world, and I am just another mad beast living in it. Morland looked down at the rope in his paws, realizing why they had come over, not initially to help him, but not make sure he played his role.

"My lord?" Morland whispered

"I'm not a lord, Morland. I am-" Canton twitched his eye "I am, what am I? I am not a prince, i'm a woodlander surely!? I am-" Canton sniffed, unable to bring himself to say it himself. He sat down, looking back at the tent's insides and realizing what he had done. Thoughtless and without irony, he had served his ancient enemy like a servant. Now what difference was between him and Morland or Gapper? What hope exists still? This forest, and everyone in it, will be theirs. Green Isle will be their's.

"You realize it now?" Gapper asked.

Canton was silent to him as Gapper sat next to him and patted his back. Morland did to as the princeling began to slowly weep his paws buried in his hands. He dropped the rope, but yet could feel it strangling him, connecting him to the tent like a puppet on a string. He nodded.

"You want something to eat?" Gapper offered. Canton nodded again as Gapper got up and looked about for some rations. The sea otter prince looked to Morland and simply asked "When did you realize there was no hope?"

"The moment I was offered food, sir."

---

Canton found himself in Barbo's service next, and although the vermin band marched forward, keeping to the River Moss, Barbo held his cape in paw as Canton carried the stoat's tent and things on his back. Canton tried to keep his eyes away from the stoat, but it was hard as Barbo walked backwards, his front facing Canton as he looked him up and down with a big grin. "I must say, good Canton, you are shaping up to be a finer servant than one could suspect! I half even suspected you'd break much more physically, but do pay some attention to how you walk. One, two. One, two. Not like that, that my dear Canton is stomping. Very poor form for a workbeast like yourself. Its all about the presentation!" Barbo annoyed Canton, but his will and need to resist was replaced by a need to not cause trouble. He simply did as Barbo asked and suggested, hoping the stoat would just go away but seemingly never did.

In front, Zakz and Tarlo continued to lead the army forward, as Tarlo occasionally looked behind him at Canton, more obedient than he had ever been. He was happy in some ways, but now he wasn't so sure. He had witnessed his father and his taskmasters break slaves before, like a form of magic of turning once strong willed beasts into passive creatures.

"First time seen a big ol' speech do dat." Zakz admitted. Tarlo turned right around, and looked to Zakz, who had been looking at Canton as well "Usually a couple ol' beatings an' a lashen fer poor work does it. Turns dem stupid workbeasts into actual laborers."

"I was half suspecting he'd never turn, and I'd be presenting my father with a corpse with a big mark on him."

"About dat mark, I don't need to get it fer helpen ya, do I?"

Tarlo blinked, nervously saying "Oh, of course not good Zakz, not one of your vermin needs to have my father's brand. As Prince of Sa-"

"Zakz! We gots trouble!" Lekmert shouted. The rat ran back, huffing, having acted the scout. He was not suppose to be alone, another one of Zakz band was suppose to be with him, when Zakz asked his second "What manner o' trouble, is it der holt? Shrews?"

"Rabbits, chief."

Zakz paused, and then began to slaps and beat on Lekmert angrily. Lekmert yelled out "Whacha doin dis fer chief! Ow!"

"Rabbits!? Ya daft cretan, no beast be fearing rabbits, dem cowards by nature! I got good mind to make ya fish bait fer even suggestion I should be fearen any lot of dem! Der burrow dwellers all! Enough outta ya, get back out der ya coward before I-"

"Listen chief! Ya gotta listen, it be odd northern folk!" Lekmert shouted

"Don't matter, rabbits are rabbits! Now where der utter one wit ya, der weasel fellow, Pawbleed or somethen or other."

"Dat is what I be tryen to tell ya chief! Pawblood found dem skulking about near a camp site, we tried to nab one, I dink der merchants, but dey were quicker an' were well armed! Dey dragged right into der camp! I came back as soon as I could, but der crafty devils, nearly had me at der river, we gotta make our way around."

"Boys, whatcha we got here!?" A loud a rough voice of a half crazed creature stumbled out of the woods near the front of the river as Tarlo and Zakz saw first a group of rabbits approach them. They wore a garment utterly foreign to Tarlo, big brown jackets with belts full of knives and dirty armor. Their boots were worn, their helms kettle shaped with floppy ears sticking out of them. The biggest of them was in front, a big bowler's hat on his camp with a gull feather sticking out of it. Zakz vermin drew weapons and came to the front, with the rabbits approaching as well, a prisoner in tow. The weasel from the band, looking bloodied with a rope around his neck held his paws on his head, one of the strange rabbits holding a long length of rope like a leash on his prisoner. Bloodpaw looked wildly uncomfortable as the rabbit looked at Zakz. The stoat paused, blinking as the larger of the rabbits came forward, a dark look in his eyes as he scratched his face and patted a hatchet at his belt.

"Boss, I thinks that stoat be the one." on the rabbits spoke

"You're Zakz, ain't ya?"

Zakz didn't answer, which made the rabbit made. He took out something from his coat pocket and threw it angrily towards them. Tarlo and Zakz got out of the way in time as a knife flew and hit a wagon which the captives of Zakz group had been carrying. Tarlo angrily yelled back "We have no quarrel with you, rabbit! No need for such hostility."

"Ya be hostile by liven, lad." The rabbit growled "I've been looking for ya, slaver! I've been looking for ya for a long time. Yer gonna give dat beast ya took back to me, an' come quietly back to New Frostfield for trial!"

"I ain't even know who ya are!" Zakz protested.

The rabbit twitched his eye and spoke up "Oh? Perhaps dis will remind ya!" Much to the group's horror, the rabbit came over to his prisoner and took out his hatchet, and before Tarlo or others could act the vermin's throat was cut by the mad rabbit and kicked to the side, as he let out an angry scream, a war cry "Cull an' Kill!" Tarlo knew the war cry well, and was baffled by it even, it was the war cry of the dead vermin warlord Kasg as the rabbit gave mad cackle and approached, and out of the woods rabbits poured out with weapons drawn. Tarlo took up his trident as the larger rabbit approached, mad eyed as he wildly led his charge against them, locking his hatchet into Tarlo's trident. It was obvious by the way he wildly went about his attack he wasn't the target.

It was Zakz.

The stoat gained distance, clasping his beastcatcher around the throat of one charging rabbit who struggled to remove it, and was used to bodyblock others from reaching him. Sagan and Barbo came forward, swords drawn as Barbo shouted back to Penolpe "Grab the prisoners and retreat! We'll meet up with you! Go!" Barbo swung his sword and joined with Sagan as the group dueled along the river's edge. Although the vermin were skilled, they found themselves overwhelmed by the mad dash of rabbits.

Sagan and Barbo in particular were baffled, they knew hares were difficult to fight beasts, but rabbits? Rabbits were twitchy and cowardly, they preferred peace above all else, and most made for poor slaves due to their many quirks. Yet these rabbits were different, they were half mad, well dressed for war, and dirty fighters. One rabbit took out a knife, slashing at Barbo's chest which was only caught by Barbo in time. His dance of swords was interrupted often, as he recognized that many wore clothes and armor not made for them, but for vermin.

Tarlo held his own against their leader, wildly slashing and trying to disarm the wild cat. Zakz called out "We gotta retreat! Lekmert! Help!" Lekmert tried hard to reach his chief, but the rabbits cut him off. For beasts known for cowardice, the vermin were utterly astounded how they held their own. Tarlo was distracted for a moment, as the leader rabbit took hold of his trident, pulling the cat close, seething with rage.

"Tell your blasted ancestors that Bludger, sheriff of bleeding New Frostfield, sent ya to their halls in pieces, you varment!" With a mad cackle, Tarlo had his head butted by the rabbit, sending him back. The battle turned quickly into a rout, as the group retreated from the aggressive rabbits hounding them. Tarlo looked to his side, seeing Barbo and Sagan fending for their lives, and he jumped in to help them. Tarlo slammed his trident into the back of one rabbit, dropping his body into the river itself before the group found its way into the forest. The rabbits stopped pursuing momentarily, as Tarlo, Barbo, and Sagan made their way over to Zakz who had been hiding behind a tree.

"A friend of yours, good Zakz?" Barbo asked, huffing and annoyed.

"I don't dink so, doh he looken familiar I dinks. He is probably regroupen wit his band, saw around like fifty of dem! Whole blasted horde!"

"Mad fighters all too." Sagan grunted.

"Well we need to lose them, or they'll tear into your prisoners and injured vermin, Zakz." Tarlo mentioned

"Got any suggestions?"

"Yes, mind if I borrow this?"

Bludger stomped his way through the woods, his rabbits making their way forward with crossbows and slings as they spread out. Having lost so few, the rabbit seemed confident as he could spot some of the vermin up ahead. He noticed Barbo, helping an injured Lekmert with another Stoat. However, the stoat wasn't wearing Zakz's favored helm, but he was close enough. Bludger pointed to them, until one of the rabbits yelled out "Der a beast with a beastcatcher goin east, boss!"

Bludger turned to his scout who pointed to what was obviously Tarlo and Sagan running in another direction, Zakz's beastcatcher held in a position which made it look like the stoat was with him. Bludger yelled out "Grab them! Quickly! I want that slaver alive, so I can gut him meself!" Zakz and Barbo looked back as the rabbits pursued Tarlo and Sagan into the woods, retreating back to the vermin band in the further distance.
_

It was late evening and the sun was starting to set slowly, as Sagan and Tarlo sat in silence between large tree branches. The two had run as far as they could, nearly turned around as they dodged bolts and projectiles from Bludger and his rabbits. They had escaped them, as Tarlo slowly maneuver Zakz's cumbersome beastcatcher over to Sagan who took it in paw. Both had small injuries from their previous encounter, but checking themselves, Tarlo was just glad they were superficial at best. Tarlo whispered "You think we lost them?"

Before Sagan could answer, he pointed beyond some trees, and they could see on of Bludger's rabbits looking about with a halberd in paw. He looked almost younger without the blindness of battle, clearly fairly green in his skill as he struggled to carry everything. His armor was more fit for a rat than himself. The only thing that seemingly fit was his jacket, with black war paint made in a blocky mark near his eye. Tarlo and Sagan snuck away into some bushes, exploring for a place to settle to allow the sentry to pass.

As they walked, they spotted in the far off distance some stronger foliage and quickly made a run for it as well, night approached. They quickly made their way towards the trees, with the rabbits regrouping in a farther distance. They could tell this by the torches being lit up, Bludger seemingly leading the group, yelling out orders and smacking at the rabbits angrily for losing them.

"Now I dink we lost dem." Sagan whispered gleefully. They turned, entering the foliage, only to smack themselves directly into the way into a large otter.

A large otteress with a yellow beret.

Tarlo and Sagan knew who it was, but the otteress was well armored and wielded a pike. She looked baffled at the two as Sagan and Tarlo stopped. Tarlo quickly spoke up "Umm, good otter, I am sorry but you did not in fact see us. We must be lea-"

The otteress looked Sagan up and down, realizing he was armed. She paused and angrily shouted "Vermin, lay down your arms at once, in the name of the Southward and Prince Frankfort!"

"Heh, I dink not!" Sagan shouted back, and took out the beastcatcher and tried to wrap it around the sea otteress's throat. However. All it ended up doing was scratching against her neck armor as Sagan's gleeful smile turned into a horrified frown. Awkwardly he tried to maneuver it a bit, but all he got for his effort was the soldier to grab he and Tarlo's heads and quickly bashed them together, and both fell the ground weak and dropping their respective weapons. She called back for another beast, and Tarlo could feel he was being dragged along the ground as the soldier took the two dazed creatures back with her.

Tarlo and Sagan entered a more lit area after awhile, although the beasts within were not a happy or healthy sort. A mix of Southward soldiers, nearly half looked wounded. The tents were messy, and most beasts looked miserable, not as much so were some captives held by the group. One weasel came over to the otteress, asking all manner of questions "Ya got a bleeden cat, why'd ya bring dem here!"

"It isn't my bleeding fault, you useless serf! I'm not exactly trying to find this group, ya know! Opar! Check on these two and add them to the others!" Tarlo looked around, staring up at a bored looking and formal looking hare, thinner and drinking from a tea cup on a turned over crate. He was looking over a journal, grumbling to himself as he stared down, not at all impressed. "Linyna, what the bleeding hells is this?"

"They walked into me on patrol, tried to get the grab on me with this." The otteress took up the beastcatcher and threw it at the hare. The hare examined it "Typical slaver craft. Should have just executed them. We'll hang them in the 'morrow."

"Now ya just hold on der!" Sagan protested, coming to life "Ya ain't hangen Sagan Black so far from der sea, matey!"

"You're right. I won't. We will hang you tonight unless you keep quiet." The hare snapped back. Tarlo got up, his paws were swiftly found being bound by the weasel serf, which he got a good look at. The serf, in yellow peasant clothes, seemed quite content with himself, much to the annoyance of the others who were captives, held in chains. It reminded Tarlo a bit too much of Zakz's camp, as the hare put down his journal "And what possessed you to attack my soldier in our forward march back to my general's army, hmm?"

"In retreat from others, believe it or not, good sir." Tarlo spoke politely.

"From being routed by good woodlanders no doubt."

"Oh, I wouldn't say that, good sir. I am Tarlo Greeneyes, Pr-"

"I couldn't care less who you are vermin, you are all getting hanged for attacking one of my soldiers. As Captain Murchan's, informal, replacement of the 2nd Southward Army, it is my duty to carry out his last wishes. There isn't many cats in this land. Where do you come from? The sea I imagine."

Tarlo smiled "Oh yes, from the sea of course. In fact, I'd like to get mo-" Tarlo was interrupted when a mouse hurried past them and yelled out "Captain! Beasts approach! Lots of them!"

"How many?"

"Fifty I thinks, they are practically on top of us, they'll-"

"Woodlander? Vermin? Long Patrol?"

"Woodlander, but not from here from their looks, well armed I thinks!"

Tarlo frowned, turning as the captain gave out his orders and the beasts began to form rank, or what little rank they could. The otteress put out orders to the weasel serf she was friendly with, carrying out this large helm to which he helped put onto her. The woodlanders formed rank, as Tarlo and Sagan turned, and from out of the trees came Bludger like a demon, his hatchet in paw and a villainous smile on his face. He was staring at them in particular, but turned his attention to the hare who came to greet him. The Southwarders realized a bit too late how many rabbits there were, spreading out across the camp with weapons in paw. The hare looked down at Bludger, confused as to his wear and the fact he was a rabbit, as if expecting a fellow hare like himself.

"You are not Long Patrol at least, I am Captain-"

"Where be der stoat?" Bludger quickly interrupted. He yelled at Tarlo and Sagan "Ya two nitwits! Where be Zakz!?"

Both remained silent and shrugged. Bludger only got angrier, and partly clawed at his own face as he realized he was duped. He kept calm as the hare spoke up "I am a Captain of Southward, rabbit, and you trespass on the liberated lands of Mossflower. By orders of Prince Frankfort, I demand you lay down your arms and entreat with my general, Nosbub of the 2nd Army. I am sure whatever beast you are looking for will be-"

"Shut it." Bludger growled, angrily pushing the hare back with the blunt end of his hatchet. The hare looked insulted "While I never! Is every infernal beast north of the great desert this barbarous."

"I said shut it, ya blasted moron, or I'll gut ya like a fish." Bludger said in warning. The hare fixed his jacket, introducing himself in an annoyed manner "I am Sheriff Bludger of New Frostfield, an' ya southern rabble don't speak to us in any manner we dislike. I didn't fight Kasg all dem years just so ya southerners can be asken us fer weapons."

"Bludger?" The hare sounded annoyed "Bleeding sound verminous to me, honestly."

"Whatcha say, flat foot?" Bludger came closer, his eyes in a mad haze and the hare became silent, even frightened "Ya sayen we be vermin, is dat it? Ya don't know what vermin are, I can smell it, ya know. Green, dat is what ya all are!"

"I will speak no more of this, I demand your cooperation then at least."

"Boss?" Bludger turned to one of his rabbits who had meandered near the captive pen of the Southward camp. Bludger looked, to see some frightened looking vermin, one vermin in particular, an older mink who was mortified to see him. Bludger pushed his way past the hare to them, looking to the group. He saw a few younger vermin amongst them, but pulled the mink from the crowd and forced open his paw. The hare did not nothing, as Bludger examined the paw.

"Cull an' kill, eh lad?" Bludger cackled lightly to him. The mink gulped, but Bludger took out his hatchet, slowly pressing the the blade into an all too familiar mark. "Cull an' Kill, ehhh, lad!?"

"Gah! Aye! Cull an' Kill! Ya blasted Frostfielder!" The mink retracted his damaged paw as the rabbit revealed something from his own paw, a mark buried deep into it, much to the Mink's surprise. The Southwarders did not understand as Bludger began to whisper to the Mink. Sagan could overhear them, and his eyes widened. He whispered to Tarlo.

"Start edging yerself to der woods, cat. I don't dink dis will end well."

Tarlo only nodded, slowly the two, with many eyes on Bludger's antics, did not focus on Tarlo and Sagan as they slowly inched their way out of danger. Bludger was nodding, looking surprised, looking between the mink prisoner and the weasel serf who was nervously sweating. The serf turned to Tarlo and Sagan, realizing they were backing away, and nudged the otteress in her armor. The two went to collect the retreating prisoners, as Bludger began to laugh.

"What is so funny, rabbit?" The hare asked.

"This, slaver."

Bludger angrily took a crossbow from one of his own rabbit, aimed, and fired into the head of the hare captain and fell over dead. On que, the rabbits began to descend on the Southward camp, beating and punching and slashing at the disadvantaged woodlanders. Bludger threw the crossbow at the otteress soldier marching on Tarlo and Sagan, knocking her over as the rabbits mopped up the camp. The prisoners, seeing an opportunity, quickly began to flee. With unholy speed, Bludger closed the distance, ripping off the armor from the frightened otteress and held his hatchet to her throat, another rabbit grabbing the weasel serf and tying him up.

"Yer gonna explain a few dings to me, little water dog. If I don't like what I hear, some beast's kids are gonna tell tales of what happened to ya."

Tarlo and Sagan retreated into the main forest, but turned once they realized they were missing their weapons. They crept closer, as Bludger looked mad with power and control as his rabbits pillaged the camp and disposed of the bodies, working on a mass grave. The vermin captives were unsure to be grateful or frightened, but clearly not allowed to leave just yet. Tarlo looked on in wonder of what was happening, as Sagan looked for their weapons. The rabbits rested, licking wounds and picking up new weapons and armor as they tied to surviving otteress and the weasel serf together and held them in the middle of the camp as Bludger motioned the mink to be brought forward to him.

"Ya know full well what I intend to do, lad. Last word, fer yer former murderous chief, before I send you to him in hell!?"

"Make it quick, an' tell yer blasted lord we'll await for him in der fire."

"Haha! Never poor in curse, ya blackclad lot!" Bludger smiled. The Mink closed his eyes, kept in place by a few rabbits while Bludger hacked away at him, much to the Southwarders confusion. Tarlo and the poor captive southwarders thought the same thing, wondering if the Blackclad mink had lied his way to make the rabbits upset. Bludger came to the otteress first, patting his hatchet lightly on her nose.

"I've grown up wit dem blackclad lot all me life, honest bunch ya see, so when dat one tells me that you folks been draggen these lot from der homes, maken dem slaves an' the like. Gotta say, odd fellows all."

"You mistake us, scum! We aren't slavers. Tell them, Opar!"

"Oh seasons, dey be slavers all right, fer der love of all good beasts, don't bleeden hurt me!"

"Opar!" The two tried to nudge at each other as Bludger looked amused. Yet, the otteress grew silent when the hatchet came to her throat, and he showed her his mark on his paw, a healed scratch which ran across it.

"A slaver burned Frostfield, killed many kin an' lads, but ya see I was one of the lucky ones. Ol' Bludger, cleaner of armor, sweeper of the barracks of Kasg's black empire. I lost a lota kin to him, an' I ain't gonna just let dis kind of thing slide, lass. I don't care what ya are, funnily little water dog. How'd ya like it to be cleaner armor, sweepen barrack, an' doin what mad beasts like me be tellen ya, hmm? Hmm!? Till your days grow dark!?"

The two prisoners were speechless, as the rabbits gave a light chuckle at first, but Bludger angrily yelled at them "Ya think this is funny, hmm!? I'll show you funny. Get over here, I'll show ya all funny!"

Tarlo was impressed, the rabbit beat on some of his own crew who didn't defend themself as some of the vermin youngsters amongst the former prisoners look in utter amazement. Sagan nudged Tarlo, holding their weapons. In the distraction of the upset Bludger, the two finally were able to make their escape.
_

The night was far from young when Tarlo and Sagan found their band, having journeyed in the dark and keeping a slow pace, the only light coming from the stars in the night sky and finding the River Moss, following it down as Tarlo relied on Sagan to find the tracks back to the camp. The scouts of Zakz's band found them first and guided them back to the camp, where a single small campfire was found, small enough to keep wandering eyes from peering too close to the camp, but large enough to provide meager warmth. Sitting by the fire was Zakz and Barbo, the old corsair standing and coming over to check on the two. In silence, they sat down, staring at Zakz, who dramatically frowned, eventually speaking up.

"Look, in me line of work, this kinda ding just happens, ya know?"

"I know full well, though what manner of foolery possessed you to steal from that mad beast?" Barbo asked.

"I know dat beast only barely, not till today did I know its name. It be a hunten beast from New Frostfield."

Tarlo nodded, recalling his adventure. The group listened as Zakz nodded along, although Barbo looked dumbfounded. "Tarlo, 'Cull an' Kill' is a vermin war cry of Kasg's horde, and if he bares the mark of Kasg's horde, he must have made an oath. For a woodlander to make that oa-"

"Me slave Trolan was in dat horde, I know plenty about it, corsair." Zakz grumbled "Kasg made many beasts swear dat oath, der blood oath bein forced on his favored slaves ain't new. Bludger no doubt was some barracks cleaner, trusted wit cleaning der gear of Kasg's blackclads, serven dem der meals, an' so forth. Bein from Frostfield musta made him valued, he an' his boy both."

Tarlo raised an eyebrow to this "He has a son, how do you know?"

"Cause I sold him at Jusbrag."

"Oh."

Zakz grumbled "Look, twas when Kasg an' his bleeding horde got killed every vermin worth der salt chewed up der remainder of dat horde. Kasg did a lotta dings in der north, burned down an' entire city's worth of rabbits, cropped a holt's worth of tails of north coast otters, an' made fools an' conscripts of every vermin enemy he could get his paws on. I was one of dem scavengers, an' I just so happen to find some bleeden small rabbit wandering about, tryen to find he way back north an's I grab him. I sold dat youngster at Jusbrag to some fox fer a months worth of terrible vittles, but dat beast talked a lot. Talked all about how his pa was some big, scary beast! Held even a high rank amongst der servants of Kasg! I didn't believe him, but he did mention dat little hat an' feather his pa wore."

"Ya couldn't mention dat before?" Sagan asked, annoyed. Zakz growled "Course I didn't! Ya dink I'd be in dis business if every bleeding family member were looken to get a pound of flesh from me for every beast I kidnap an' sell! It just don't happen, were lucky Mossflower be at war, or'd I would be outta der job right now, an' moven on to der next horde. No offense, Tarlo."

"None taken, Good Zakz. However, we survived today mostly. We should all get some rest. Gholand may not be our next destination, we may need to head to Redwall and go on a much farther path I am afraid."

"Agreed." Sagan said tired. The group began to disappear back into the vermin camp for the night, with Zakz in a foul mood. He touched his face and put back on his favored helm as Sagan passed him his Beastcatcher. Thanklessly, he took it as he walked to his tent. Trolan was there to present him with his midnight rations, again taking it thanklessly.

Zakz began to turn in for the night, falling on his his cot of his tent, but as he turned over to begin to sleep, he nearly jumped to see Lekmert looming over him, crouched within. He nearly yelled "Der hell ya doing here, ya dumb brute!"

"Shhh! Boss, I needed to talk to ya."

"Couldn't it wait till der morning." Zakz growled "A whole army of bleeding ghosts just nearly tried to kill me specifically an' I ain't in der talking mood. Ya better got a good reason to be bothering me."

"Boss, ya swore yerself to dat cat, but me an' some of lads been talken. Ya really sure ya wanna do dis? Joinen wit dis lot? Its bad luck I dinks, horrible fer der reputation an' all dat."

"Der heck ya talken about, Lekmert?"

"Boss, we've known each other fer a long time, since we captured our first workbeast even. Markem gotta good gig, ya see, an' now were-"

"Headen up in der world." Zakz seethed. "Look Lekmert, ya daft fool, ya dink Markem is gonna reward us much den a few pats on der back an' nice speeches, or do ya wanna be richer den ya ever been before? Dat cat is acten all friendly to me, an' been nutten but good fortunes if we remain on his good side. Dink about it Lekmert, dink real hard. Ya eder gonna be liven in a castle, wit a fat wife, an' a hundred stupid mice begging ya to command dem about, or ya gonna be liven in dis forest tryen to kidnap a deaf mole, hopen dat der Long Patrol don't kill ya, or some otter drags ya under. Dat cat is rich, an' we'll be rich in turn, dat is why we in dis business to begin wit."

"Boss, I dink dat cat is lyen to us, or well, to you."

"Lying how?"

"Ya hear how dat beast talks to his own workbeasts? Says he is the descendent of bleeding Greeneyes, thee Greeneyes, der one from der tales of dat mouse at Redwall! Ya don't dink dat strange, boss? He talks like he is tryen to save dem beasts through enslaving dem, don't ya find it weird? Would ya be saying yer saving Trolan from himself? He says he is yer friend, boss, but what if he truly ain't? What if his friendship just gonna be a quick conscripting into der front flank, an' we'll be smiling all der while as hares gut us!"

"Okay, I've not been deaf to dat, but its just der quirk, ya nitwit. All der cats are like dat."

"I don't dink all cats talk like dat, Zakz."

"'Chief' to you, Lekmert."

Lekmert grumbled "Boss, lets just leave dem to der own devices, make our way back to Gholand, drop off our loot an' wash our paws clean of it all. Dey require us a lot more den we need dem, boss."

"Oh be off wit ya an' let me sleep ya fool beast." Zakz angrily shoved with his feet at Lekmert "An don't bother me wit such nonsense again."

Lekmert left Zakz tent in a huff, and went about his dark business. He was joined by a fox of the band, a fellow slaver and recent joiner. They made their rounds, making sure the bonds on their prisoners were secure, the small band was fed, and dolled out tasks. The fox next to Lekmert whispered "Ya spoke to der boss, he ain't gone soft in der head has he?"

"Worse den soft." Lekmert whispered back "More like traitor, proud an' willing. Ya spoke wit der folk in der camp?"

"Lumpbrain an' his brudder is in, but der others ain't so sure."

"Gettem ready, regardless."

Lekmert and his friend looked at Tarlo as he readied himself for bed, a small light of a lamp was seen with Morland and Canton outside of it. Canton was sleeping soundly, tired as he was, but with a rope leash keeping him tied to the ground with Morland trying to get comfortable. To Lekmert, it was almost absurd to look at, he shook his head. He spoke to his scheming compatriot in a whisper. Even in the darkness, as the cat laid on his bed inside and read his books, Lekmert couldn't help but feel utterly confused by Tarlo.

"I just don't get it. Dat cat is just plain evil, an' der isn't much one can say otherwise about it, so I gotta ask cause I dink I be goin crazy. Ya dink dat lad be evil?"

"He ain't no less 'evil' den us, Lekmert."

"I know dat, every vermin be goin to hell when dey pass, ain't nutten dat can done for it, but I just be dinken. Dis beast truly dinken he helpen des beasts, an' he don't see it. Markem at least dinks he is doin good by dem an' us, but dis one? How does a beast live like dat. Ya know?"

"Maybe dey don't. Does it matter?"

"Maybe not, but whatever we do, we take dem wit us. Dey'll at least sell good fer Gutan."
_

The march away from the river was much more painful than it needed to be, as Zakz put his captives to work pushing the cart through foliage and mud, his vermin cutting a way for their wagon to move more smoothly. Lekmert lagged behind, his eyes set on three beasts who tried to keep farther from the group as they held their heads low. Canton kept between Gapper and Morland, the three sea otters were not bothered and Canton was not passed this time to any vermin. Perhaps ironically, in a moment of being masterless, Canton had been at his most broken. In truth, he was tired, unaware Lekmert kept his eyes on them. Tarlo and his friends were much farther up ahead, with Zakz loyal vermin further up ahead. Lekmert spend much of the previous night gathering those loyal to him, keeping them farther back.

"I just don't get it, I don't think I ever will." Canton was heard, saying his thoughts loudly to himself. Lekmert listened on in, as Canton was carrying one of the vermin pack on his back.

"They are beasts, right? Why do they need so many beasts to do as we do? I just never understood why they couldn't just leave us alone."

Gapper grunted "They view us as weak is why, and they like it that way."

"Do they just hate us?"

"Probably." Gapper shrugged "For all the time i've known Barbo, its hard to say it is hatred at all, its just that he is enjoys the power he has. With a flick of his paw, he can decide if a bunch of beasts die or get to eat heartily, and in many ways, he is living like a king without the responsibility of one. Think of it this way Canton. Imagine King Sarlo, but have no responsibilities to his lessers, no desire or need to actually care for them, but having their total obedience at a moment's notice. It's just how vermin are."

"And it works." Canton gulped pathetically. Morland sighed, adding to the conversation "Certainly in some ways I suppose, but not alway-"

"It works well enough for them to bully us like this." Gapper grunted "Besides, that cat is right, those slavers are going to win eventually. If it isn't them, its going to be this rat, Markem. Mossflower had its golden age of freedom, and so has many lands and places in the world, but it all had to end eventually."

"Like this?"

"I suppose it could be worse, as that cat said. If it wasn't the Greeneyes, those cats across the sea would one day come. We'd buy a generation or two's lives, but at the cost of a crueler master."

"Yet its all built on a lie is what it is!" Canton tried keep his voice down, gripping his head with frustration "I now have to serve a beast, by my honor as a Wildlou-"

"You need to realize that honor means nothing to them, Canton. Just play your part and pray they don't decide to punish us." Canton grew silent, as Morland spoke up "You really have given up, haven't you Gapper."

"I should have given up a long time ago, marine. I spent a long time wondering if I would ever get to see Green Isle again, and I spend a long time chained to an oar and wondering if Barbo would bore of me and just kill me. I prayed for it, Morland. You know what answer I got?" Gapper gave a dark look to Morland and he understood. The angry beast shook his head "If I was truly lucky, I would have died when we raided Barbo's ship and i'd not have to live to see my days grow dark serving that-" He had to stop himself looking around for Penolpe, wondering what manner of bush she would come out of. He was suspicious of most things, but he feared her being unpredictable rather than her cruelty.

Lekmert was approached by one of his loyalists, giving him a nod. Farther up ahead, his fox friend was guiding Zakz and Tarlo in one direction, and Sagan and Barbo in another, taking the corsair's daughter and Zakz loyalists with them. The prisoners of the band were pushing the cart, with Trolan helping and directing others. Lekmert shouted "Hey der now! Stop dat, rest up, cause we got plenty of mud to move on through!"

The prisoners stopped and took some rest, the woodlanders sat beneath the dreaded wagon with all the slaver's supplies within. Lekmert took out a canister and snuck in a few drops from a vial, a favored little weapon of his in his escapades. He nodded to some other vermin, the slavers doing the same. One by one, they began to pass out water to the exhausted slaves as Lekmert offered his canteen to Canton first. The sea otter meekishly took it and drank it, as Lekmert mentioned "Ya know, yer a sea otter prince right? Of Greed Isle?"

Gapper corrected harshly "Green Isle."

"I thought ya broken, sea dog."

"I am." Gapper grunted in turn, taking the canteen next. Lekmert folded his paws, smiling "Maybe I'll have ya pull dis here cart next, eh? See how pushing does fer ya to improve yer attitude."

Gapper was silent, passing the canteen to Morland next who drank it readily. Gapper's eyes began to become drowsy near immediately, but he shrugged it off as nothing more than just the usual manner of being tired and on the march. The rat bent down and commented "Ya three poor fools, what manner of stupidness got ya into der service of dat lot, eh?"

"Existing." Gapper answered. Canton didn't speak, his head felt floaty as Lekmert could see Gapper was growing defensive. He drew closer and spoke "Tell me somethen, ya know were better, sea dog. Dats why when we get to Gholand, I'll make sure ya personally end up in der Pit, can't have der likes of ya talken back to yer betters."

Gapper didn't move, although every part of his body was telling him to. He heard thud, seeing as the woodlander captives all around began to fall to the ground and snore. Canton's head fell on Gapper's lap, his eyes shut and breathing slowly as Gapper felt himself slipping away. Lekmert just kept smiling, waiting for him to fully be asleep.

"Alright, load dem into der wagon! We head back to der River Moss and make a break fer Gholand!"
_

Gapper didn't like dreams, but this one was perhaps the strangest he'd been in. He was running on open water, it was shallow and only went up to his ankles and was unable to swim gracefully within it. He looked behind him, a darkness in all directions as he kept running further and further. He was running from something unseen, slipping and falling into the water. He got up, looking at a reflection. He was younger, in the prime of his youth as a heroic soldier and captain of Green Isle, his old armor and weapon to his back. He looked proud and dignified. Gapper angrily splashed the water and got up, and continued to run, farther and farther from some unknown foe. He ran until he saw something in the distance. It was familiar, it was Barbo's personal palace he had built for himself, dark and foreboding in this abyss.

He ran for it, rushing inside and drawing his old sword. Something drove him here, and in the distance he saw something odd. Barbo's mural of fine stone depicting himself, his mate, and Penolpe upon it. Their cartoonish faces smiled down upon him, looming over the sea otter. In the picture he could see another figure, some all too familiar, himself in a white slave's garb and shackles on his feet. He ignored it, heading further into the dark palace.

He went through the shadowy halls, eventually seeing a figure walk through them like a ghost. He shouted at it "Wait!" It ignored him, as he rushed after it mindlessly.

He rammed his way into a room the figure was in, and he found the one beast he truly hated more than any other. He waved his sword at it, keeping his distance, the one creature worse than Barbo.

Himself.

It was him, older, draped in the white slave's uniform as if it had not changed a day, the shackles on his feet still visible although no longer with the chain. The two Gappers looked at one another, the older and broken beast spoke up "Just give up."

"I can't. Not yet." Gapper seethed "I nearly had him, I cou-"

"Just give up, you know what always comes next."

"I can't do it." Gapper wept "I can't, I need you to not give in! They took so much, did so much evil, you know full well he'll kill and torture them! They'll do it to Green Isle, our home, our people! Y-"

"They will do it with or without you, Gapper Blacknose. You cannot stop what will come to pass." The older Gapper turned, the great palace disappeared into the void, and in the distance were the high cliffs of Green Isle, a memory of it at least. Gapper refused to look, but the Older Gapper came over, angrily forcing his eyes open and making him look upon it.

A shadowy isle, burning. He could hear screams, the harsh lash cracked in the air, the clink of chain and weeping of sea otters. He tried to close his eyes as the older Gapper raged at him "Look at what they will do Gapper, look at it! This cannot be stopped! You cannot stop it!"

Gapper's eyes suddenly wrenched open with the sun pouring into his eyes, he shifted himself to keep it away. He shifted himself, realizing he was on top of a larger body. He looked down, seeing a passed out Morland. He realized his paws were bound with rope, and he slowly raised his body upward to see over the edge. He could see spears all around, realizing he was haphazardly put into the wagon. He could hear Lekmert's voice from the front "Put yer backs into it! We ain't gonna get to Gholand at all at dis rate. We need to lose dem folk by sunset, or we'll all be in trouble fer sure."

"Ya sure it be wise crossen Zakz, Lekmert? He got a foul temper, murderous even."

"Ya worry about dat traitor later."

Gapper cursed himself and gathered up his strength. Canton was in the cart as well, slowly getting awake himself. He could see Gapper chew at his rope with his sharp teeth, angrily freeing himself in silence. Canton watched as the sea otter leapt over the back side of the wagon, and heard a small shriek of some vermin he had landed on below.

"Der heck?" Lekmert's voice was troubled. Canton could hear smacks against the cart, awakening some others. Morland slowly awoke, hearing commotion.

"Oh? Ya dink yer gonna escape, eh? Oh I-" Lekmert's voice began, but more smacks happened against the wagon, and more hearing of slicing and screams of dying vermin. Morland was now fully awake, looking over the edge as he spotted Gapper. The sea otter was barely phased, of Lekmert's perhaps ten vermin, four were already dead with one screaming with a knife in his leg. Lekmert was now concerned, watching as the vermin tried to pile onto Gapper who had a knife in his paw. One vermin spearman tried to bring it down on the former soldier, only to be sliced at his throat for his efforts, his body sent flying into another beast. A fox came up behind him, trying to use a mace on him, but the otter's tail swapped at his legs, sending him downward as Gapper turned and began to claw and bash at the vermin's face. The utter terror Gapper did on them was amazing and so fast, Lekmert realized he was far out matched. Morland was utterly amazed, as Gapper killed the others. One of the vermin tried to retreat, but Gapper took up a bolas and threw it, wrapping around his throat and choking him.

This left Lekmert, who discarded his favored sword and begged Gapper "Now, I know yer angry sea dog, but erm, yer free, now back off an' let me."

Gapper rushed Lekmert, tackling him to the ground. Lekmert screamed as Gapper smashed his paw against the ground, shattering it before putting his paw over his screaming mouth and pushing inwards. Gapper began to choke Lekmert slowly, coldly not bothering to finish him off just yet as the sea otter watched the rat wriggle and gurgle out his begging.

As quickly as Gapper awoke, the band of vermin were dead.

Morland was utterly shocked, slowly coming out of the cart and directing others. Canton was awake, helping a downed Trolan, the last to awake to come up. Gapper was covered in blood and new scars, slowly coming over to the group. He looked to the prisoners of Zakz camp and spoke up "Go." He ordered. The prisoners didn't need a second to think on it, taking the opportunity, they quickly ran from the cart, at last free. Morland, Canton, and Trolan stood still as Morland looked around.

It was silent, and more importantly; there were no vermin.

It was an odd feeling.

Morland looked at Gapper who was dressing his smaller cuts, resting his back against the wagon. Morland spoke up, a little bit of excitement in his voice "Gapper, that was amazing, if we head out now, we could reach Redwall, or even the southern villages, or-"

Gapper growled "You'll stay here, Morland, and wait for that gaggle of idiots to reclaim us all."

Morland gave him a confused look, as Canton looked on sheepishly. He frowned as Gapper took a dark look at them. "Morland, where would you even run to? Redwall is under siege, taken probably even. You think running is going to help us?"

"We'll be free of them, they can'-"

"They will find us, if not them some other beast."

Trolan perked up to ask "You killed these vermin quite quickly, you could do that this whole time?"

"With a band like this, yes. Ill prepared, over confident, and inexperienced. Barbo? I wouldn't be able to touch him at all."

"You ever try?" Trolan asked

"You ever try to murder Zakz in his sleep?" Gapper asked back. He grunted "You three. You don't understand do you!?" He began to yell and grow angry. Morland backed off as Gapper approached "I need you to understand this, and understand this now, you morons. You think I am telling you to give up is some manner of loyalty to Barbo or his lot!? It's so he doesn't. Punish. Us! One of you messes up, guess who gets punished. It isn't going to be Canton, it'll be you Morland. If you try to run, who do you think suffers, Morland!? You aren't dealing with reasonable beasts with reasonable rules, you play by what they tell you, and if you don't you will suffer. We all suffer! You run, Morland, do you think Tarlo is going to be kinder to his next slave? You think the Greeneyes, or their corsair friends, are going to be content with no beast serving them? If we suffer, it means one less beast gets to be in our position! None of you are running away, you got it? Canton won't run because of that dumb foolishness with his honor, I won't run because I know full well what happens when we do, and that hedgehog is just too slow to run to start with! That leave you Morland."

Morland frowned, backing away as Gapper gripped his head in frustration "I don't like being like this, but give it up Morland. Every land is going to be waving a vermin flag soon, it only depends on whom gets to wave it. These bandits were not going to treat us any better than that corsair or cats would treat us as, I can guarantee you that."

"Green Isle, our home, it can't be taken, it'll-" Morland began, but Gapper stopped him "It won't be our home for much longer. This?" Gapper grabbed the shackle at his legs "This is our home, and the home of every bleeding beast in Mossflower, and Green Isle, Noonvale, Southward, and every bleeding nation here. This is just how the world works, Morland. Get used to it, or be crushed by it." Morland didn't move as the four slavebeasts simply meandered around the wagon. Trolan asked Gapper "And the others?"

"They'll be caught by others, and Tarlo nor Zakz no longer has the beasts to keep them in line."

Trolan could not tell if Gapper was lying to him, or perhaps to himself, but the cynical answer annoyed him. Amidst the carnage, it did take only a little while before they heard voices from the south, coming closer. Appearing suddenly was Tarlo first, with Zakz angrily marching out with his beastcatcher and a fury in his eyes. Tarlo rushed up to them, and stopped, looking over the dead bodies. He wondered if this was a trap at first, weaving around with his trident outstretched. Zakz came over to Lekmert's dead body as Sagan, Penolpe, and Barbo appeared next. Barbo casually wiped blood from his saber, the beast no doubt supposedly trying to distract them fell ill of him. Behind them were the rest of Zakz loyal vermin.

"Strangled." Zakz declared as he looked over Lekmert's body. He turned to the four slaves and yelled "Where der rest of me prisoners!?"

"We won't need them, couldn't keep them now if we wished." Barbo mentioned. He looked over the dead and then at the four. He raised an eyebrow to Gapper, as he was covered in blood. To him, it was obvious what had happened, and in turn it made him more genuinely concerned. Penolpe went over to him and yelled "Oh der hells, slavebeast, ya ruined your garments! You decided to roll around in the corpses!?" The younger stoatess came closer to him, but a paw shot up immediately in front of her as Barbo approached him first.

"What happened here, Gapper?"

"They were ambushed by other vermin, sir, and they perished. They took the others, and left us."

"Dey left ya? Why?" Sagan asked

Gapper only shrugged. Barbo looked him up and down, unsure what to make of him. He took his paw and grabbed onto his shirt collar, pulling the sea otter close to him and staring into his eyes. Penolpe didn't understand, as the two locked eyes. Barbo was looked for a sign of resistance, a reason to end him, but could find nothing. Gapper didn't resist, in fact, he just blinked. The corsair released him and spoke plainly "Clean yourself up, we have a long march, and we are heading elsewhere to regroup."

Penolpe whispered to her father "Pa, ya think that beast did this?"

"My dear, I am afraid to even ask that question."

Penolpe gave her slave a strange look as Gapper slowly began to undress his red clothes and wring them out of the sweat and blood from his murderous spree. Tarlo and Morland were gathered by Tarlo and brought close, the cat no longer capable of keeping them out of his sight. Zakz looked down at the dead Lekmert, his eyes wide in fright as he gave a look to Gapper. He was silent, putting two and two together. He approached Trolan and asked "Alright, der truth, spikeback. Did dat beast kill Lekmert?"

"No. I think another beast did so I think." Trolan said in a way Zakz was not used to.

"Okay, was dis beast a sea otter?"

"Yes, but I am afraid it was another beast."

Zakz accepted to answer with a sigh, pushing his servant back into his horde and leaving the bodies to rot on Mossflower's floor.

---

With Lekmert's betrayal, Zakz felt naked, he no longer had his supplies, his vermin were reduced to an uncomfortably small number, and now he didn't even have slavebeasts to show for it. Yet, to the credit of Tarlo, the cat seemingly did not think less of him for it or torment him about it. Tarlo barely even mentioned it, keeping up his high spirits and a cheerful attitude to both him and what demoralized vermin remained. Zakz felt almost lost in a sense, but Tarlo had made a new decision as they went forward; they would to neither Redwall nor Gholand for now, they would head towards Jusbrag, the great vermin city, and try their hand at recruitment before heading to find Markem to impress upon him. It was partly Barbo's idea, not wanting the group to seem lost or damaged before meeting the 'great warlord'. Zakz grumbled a lot now, talking to both himself at the only beast near him.

His slave Trolan.

"Like how der heck do I even explain dis to Gutan, of all beasts?"

"Oh, I am sure you will figure it out my good master, you aren't the first nor last beast to be betrayed by members of his own band. As a smart and dutiful soldier, I am more than sure you will find a means to, well make due."

"Its good dat I am smart, ya stupid spikeback, or'd we would really be in a mess!" Trolan cheered the vermin up, although the hedgehog was secretly cringing behind his eyes in doing so and keeping up a fake smile.

Of them all, only Gapper kept to the farther back, farthest he had ever been from Penolpe and Barbo, the two occasionally looking behind them at him, to which he could barely notice. Sagan creeped up to the two corsairs and whispered "Alright, I gotta ask, ya been staring at dat sea dog fer awhile. He really killed all ten of dem fools? We ain't gonna one day wake it wit a bunch of dead beasts all over der place, right?"

Penolpe whispered back "Considering what i've been putting him through, I am surprised he hasn't done so already. I thought him tame, fasha."

"He is." Barbo said cautiously "Tame as one can be, yet this little incident should teach you a lesson my dear. You can break beasts, make them do your bidding, but they can never lose one's soul. I've tried before, but trust me, any attempt at making the most truest of servants is a lot more difficult than it seems, if not downright a lost art. It is something they themselves must give up."

"What ya blabbering about, Barbo?"

"I forget you have no fine taste for the dramatic, good Sagan. Let us just say a beasts will is much more durable than one's body. Only time and effort will make a beast give up its much needed desire to resist their betters."

Sagan shook his head "Dat beast does anyding dumb, he'll be getten a blade in his throat dat fer sure."

"Should we kill him then?" Penolpe asked, but Barbo chuckled "It won't be necessary my dear, you show fear to a slave, and like any vermin rabble they will take your weakness to note. Treat him as you always did, and he'll keep his head low and his paws ready to serve."

Penolpe nodded to this as they walked through the forests of Mossflower, the sun shining overhead. Zakz informed them of a ferry which would take them across the river farther upward, their goal was to go through Gholand's main territory to Tussock, and then from there into the north. Without much in terms of supplies, Zakz grew worried.

"We'll probably gotta raid a village or two. If I be right, der whole abbey of Redwall just be yonder over der, an' likely dat be where Markem an' his horde be laying siege to. I mean, we could meet dem now, or sneak on in to grab us some vittles."

"I'd rather not look weak in front of this Markem, hard to say I am a prince of Sandbeach and champion of my father's cause with little more than a few slaves, you, and two pirates. Legendary pirates, yes, but from the sounds of it he isn't a sea faring beast."

"Nay. Though, der other option is dat we look fer supplies elsewhere, or raid a village, or-"

"Uhhh. Chief." One of Zakz vermin came forward, poking him. Zakz turned, and growled "It better be good, lad, cause I be talken important business ya see."

"Tis is important, chief."

"Ya, what is it?"

"Dem rabbits are back."

A chill flooded Zakz and Tarlo's spines as they followed the vermin scout to a position, and realized a bit late that in their haste, they were being tracked. No far away, Bludger and his little horde of rabbits were following Tarlo, his hatchet in one paw, but in his other paw was a rope. That rope was attached to the neck of the Southward otteress he had captured, abused and beaten which he tugged, the miserable creature yelping as he pointed to the ground. She spoke something, as Bludger smiled gleefully and yelled out "Dat slaver be dat way, I want him alive! Any beast dat kills Zakz before me I'll string up on their guts! To me, ya flop bellied fools! To me!" He passed the rope lead off to one of his other rabbits, marching forward at a dark pace. Bludger stopped, and began to look directly at Tarlo and Zakz.

Oh. He can see us.

"Get dem!"

Tarlo and Zakz, alongside his vermin scout rushed back into the group, yelling and screaming. In a sudden instant, the group was moving towards the river, the rabbits not far behind as they joined the hunt after them. Zakz could hear the mad calls of death from the mad rabbit behind him.

"I'm gonna find and gut ya, you little stoat! I've seen what der blackclads did to others, I am going to show to you and your friends! You ever seen a beast sawed in half!? Have you! You'll tell me where me boy is, you slaver trash!"

"He be in Jusbrag, ya dumb moron! Just go away!" Zakz tried to call back, but it was ignored. Zakz figured that this hunter of his probably has been near Jusbrag, or perhaps knew his son was no doubt dead or elsewhere in the world. It terrified Zakz personally as he dodged bolts and rocks hurled at him that if Bludger caught him, he truly would be in a world of pain. The group continued to flee through the forest till they reached the river once again, heading as quickly as they could along it, their only hope was reaching Markem's ferry. The group ran fast along the river, with the only beasts lagging behind being Gapper and Canton, who struggled to keep up with their heavy packs. Tarlo suddenly turned, his trident outstretched as slammed it into one rabbit who got close to them, whirling it as he slashed and struck at the group. Tarlo bought some time, as some of the rabbits cowered back towards Bludger who was waving his hatchet at them.

"Tarlo! There be a massive builden! To us!" Sagan yelled. Tarlo turned, running alongside Gapper and Canton as he rushed to Sagan's voice. He stopped, giving pause as he looked up along the river's edge, seeing a truly massive structure which towered over the trees.

It was a barn?

It was long, and made the cat feel like an utter dwarf as he approached, Sagan and Barbo calling out to him as he ran towards it. Sagan yelled "We'll have to fight dem in here, lad! Quickly! We can maybe hide from them even!"

"Sagan, this thing is the biggest barn i've ever bleeding did see!"

"Ya, and der is a lot of place to hide within! Quickly now, cat!"

Tarlo and the last of their group ran through, a nice fence and equally large house sat in the far end. Tarlo felt like an ant, finding the whole thing absurd. There was fields of normal sized crops mixed in with larger gardens, the very structure was fit more for a giant than even a badger. They forced their way inside the massive barn, it took the effort of everyone to close it behind them as they saw Bludger and his rabbits begin to slowly stop and look around. Tarlo did not understand why, the rabbits just seemingly stopped at the entrance of this truly massive farm, refusing to pursue.

"Surely we did not lose them." Penolpe commented

"Oh good heavens." A booming voice was heard, the entire horde of Tarlo turned. In the looming darkness of the barn, light shown through small windows full of hay as a massive figure approached. It was a large feral cat of a deep orange hue, it walked on all fours and it utterly towered over Tarlo and the others. Tarlo's instincts told him to attack, but he looked into the deep green eyes of the stranger, his only clothes an overly large purple and white jacket, having large spectacles to which he fixed. He looked down at them, standing upright and kept two of his paws on his large tail and smiled.

"Ah, if I knew I would be having guests today, I would have prepared something! Welcome to my humble home, who might you be?"

The group was silent, as the larger beast awaited his answer. They were utterly frightened of him, in which he chuckled loudly. "Oh, goodness. I hope you are not afraid, good beasts, I am vegetarian as many of my folk have been. How rude of me, I must introduce myself. My name is Buchlan. Oh my, you there good fellow, you look quite familiar I must say." The large cat pointed his massive paw at Tarlo, poking him very gently with a claw "You look almost like kin."

Tarlo was speechless, wondering if he could perhaps turn and face Bludger. Yet, the lack of voices of the rabbits concerned him. Tarlo got his nerves back, slowly approaching and giving a nod of his head "Oh. Great Buchlan, I am Tarlo Greeneyes, of Sandbeach. Prince of the Greeneyed Horde."

Buchlan paused, giving Tarlo an odd look "Oh. Interesting, good to meet you Tarlo. Truly, this is not something I suspected from any beast. I suppose having family over is always a surprise, no matter how distant."