Flecks of flame and ash danced in the cold air under the insulating branches of several densely packed oak trees looking out toward the frozen river. Santain huffed as he followed the otter Ramir up the riverbank. He and the otter had just finished burying Corporal Thimblebrand and the unnamed rat who had aided in their freedom. The duo had wordlessly worked while the otter's 'siblings' freed the hedgehog family and started a fire, within the cul de sac of dry ground scooped from the heart of a cluster of oaks that overlooked the river.
The Long Patrol Captain's heart ached for his fallen hare with every step. He wished to take the brave corporal back to Salamandastron and have his body entombed amongst the generations of Long Patrol warriors who had come before him. But there was no way he could carry the body back to the mountain. So, Captain Santain made the tearful difficult decision to bury him along the riverbank.
Beneath the snow the earth was frozen and solid as a rock, Santain had no tools aside from his paws to dig a grave. He had gingerly taken the hare's body and carried him a short way up the bank of the river at the foot of a willow tree that overlooked the location of the skirmish. After clearing the snow from the ground, he and Ramir covered the body with smooth gray stones. After the mound was made Captain Santain took the young hare's spear and planted it at the head of the mound with the tip piercing the sky. As a final touch, he placed the corporal's beret atop the spear. The captain bitterly wept as he looked over the lonely tomb for a hare gone far too soon.
Santain had to wipe the tears from his fur lest they turned to ice. Their mission wasn't over, and many questions had yet to be answered. Now the old soldier just wanted to melt away his misery by the fire.
"That's a fine-lookin' fire Moss. Didja find any vikkles fer the lot o' us." Ramir asked as he stepped into the ring of trees. Santain followed shortly and soberly behind him. The roots and trunks of oaks were smooth and melded together so that they created a natural ring protecting the circle of beasts from the wind. A smoky fire crackled in the center of the ring as the heat bounced off the trunks keeping the circle as warm as an oven.
The rat smiled and made several odd and quick gestures toward the otter. Santain thought it was quite queer, but the otter responded in kind.
"Managed tah pull some pelts and blankets from the cowards 'fore yew tossed them down tha river." The mole quipped in a very unmole-like manner. Once again Santain seemed to be the only beast perturbed by it.
Ramir picked up a pelt and draped it over his shoulders. Santain was covered in the giant monitor's blood and could feel it freezing on his tan uniform and fur. He felt disgusted to wear the pelts of former beasts, but the blankets were wrapped around the young hedgehogs, and he wasn't going to take one from them. To ease his conscience, and warm himself, he grabbed a heavy overcoat that looked like it was made from the furs of several weasels. Walking about the fire he rested his back and halberd against the trunk of a wide oak and slowly sunk into a seat. He knew they should leave this place immediately to find shelter and get far away from wherever the lizards were going. But exhaustion from the battle and the long nights marching through the snow had finally set in. He missed his warm cot in the cozy halls of Redwall and pressed Abbot Micah's letter with his paw. It was undamaged from the battle as it was tucked tightly in his breast pocket. More importantly, the seal remained unbroken. The grizzled soldier decided it would be best to rest for a moment before heading south.
"I'm sorry about your comrade," Ramir said as he squatted next to the captain. "He was a brave hare and he will be remembered as a hero for freeing us from those monsters."
Santain nodded his eyes a glaze as he stared into the fire. He didn't want the otter to see the tears in his eyes.
"He was a jolly swell lad. He didn't deserve tah die like that." Captain Santain managed to croak. "I just wish I could bring him back to Salamandastron, wot."
Ramir nodded and handed him a bit of fried fish to change the subject. "One of the lizards had the sense not to eat the flesh of other beasts."
Santain accepted the fish but wasn't hungry. He closed his eyes and rested his head against the oak, taking a moment to breathe and prepare for the long journey ahead. When he opened his eyes, Ramir was distributing bits of fish to the hedgehog family and the ferret. They accepted and tore into the food, as the color slowly returned to their drained faces. Santain watched them hoping warm relief would wash over him. The otter, mole, and rat shared a bit of perch as they gestured to each other with their paws in their own language. Santain eyed them oddly before a sneeze from the ferret tore his attention away. Dronga was wrapped in a blanket and several pelts, but he still shivered, his masked face not looking toward Santain. Someone, most likely the mute grey rat, had bandaged his leg from where Santain had stabbed him. The wrap was made from moss and articles of lizards clothing had a dark red blot that seemed to have stopped its outward expansion. The vermin's fur was still damp, and he spat a small bone into the fire that made an evil hiss.
Filthy beast!
The hare was surprised that the hedgehog family wasn't as concerned with the ferret sharing the fire with them as he was. He considered taking the vermin's food and distributing it to the hedgehogs. Their children needed it far more than the vermin did. Besides Dronga was the reason Thimblebrand was dead, the more he suffered the better.
"I suppose someone could tell me wot in bloody hell those lizards were doing and how you lot got involved?" Santain finally asked as the beasts finished up their meal.
"They're monsters!" The mother hedgehog started. "They broke into our home and threatened to slay us if we didn't come with them."
"They were jus' roaming Mossflower woods attackin' and slavin' everybeast they came across." The mole Wungle added. "Me an moi siblings were explorin' the area when we came upon those savages butcherin' a group of beasts… wasn't a thing we could do to stop 'em."
The mole's face went awash with terror. "We've been told to be concerned about 'vermin' but nothing about those monsters."
Ramir looked at the hare. "We're you searching for those brutes?"
Santain shook his head. "Nay. We were to deliver a message from Redwall to Salamandastron when we stumbled upon a group of butchered vermin a few days back. We thought another vermin band had slain them and that we might rid Mossflower of their presence before they hurt any good beasts. We were surprised to find who was leadin' ye, wot."
"Well, ye took care of the lot of them, and almost froze poor Dronga tah death!" Wungle said with a snap in his voice.
Santain furrowed his brows. "Why do you talk like that lad?"
"Like what?" The mole was taken aback.
"You don't sound like a mole? Yet you are one, wot."
"Well, what does a mole sound like?"
"Almost unintelligible. Redwall's librarian has a hard time desipherin' wot yew beasts say. Got a funky way of speaking, nothin' bad, just different, wot."
The mole kneaded his claws together as he glanced at the otter and rat.
"Me parents weren't moles. So, I guess I never learned how to speak like one."
"That doesn't matter," Ramir interrupted before Santain could respond. "They loved you as they did me. Besides we need to find better shelter than this else we'll freeze."
"The little ones need to rest." The father hedgehog started. "My daughter's sick and those monsters forced her to walk for a day through the snow. She's in no condition to move now."
"I can carry the gel, wot," Santain said leaning off the tree. "She kin take this pelt as well, she needs it more than I do," Santain added as he removed the weasel pelt that he had wrapped around him.
"If we move south along the river we're bound to run into some shrews or an otter holt. But we need to find shelter before it gets dark."
"Thank you, Mr…"
"Captain Tommok Santain of the Long Patrol at your service."
"Thank you, Captain Santain, you are a good beast." The father hedgehog said as he wrapped his daughter in the pelt. She had a blanket and several pelts cocooning her as she sat chattering by the fire. The ferret's loud sneeze broke the silence that followed. "Let my children rest for a while longer and then we can leave."
Santain nodded his agreement toward the father, before breaking out into a smile as the other hedgehog young stared at the Long Patrol hare with awe from under their blanket. "Who might these kiddos be?"
"That's Eloise, Scout, and Wren." The father hedgehog started nodding toward the three kits under the blanket. "The oldest is Idris and she's been battlin' a fever several days before the lizards showed up."
Santain nodded solemnly. "She's a strong gel. If no lizards could scare her then a wee little cold 'll not be any worse, wot." The father's eyes looked like stained glass; he nodded as he rubbed them with his forearm.
"Now as for you vermin." Santain snapped as he stood and stretched his legs.
"I wanna know how ye got wrapped intah all o' this." The hare quietly grabbed his halberd and poked at the coals of the fire.
"We stumbled upon Dronga and his mates gettin' slaughtered by those scaled brutes," Ramir responded. "They probably would've butchered the lot o' them if we didn't intervene."
Santain snorted as he trained his eyes on the shivering ferret. "Should've let the lizards have their way wid 'em. Would've saved ye the trouble o' gettin' captured, wot."
The rat furiously signed something to the mole and otter.
"We weren't gonna let these poor beasts get slaughtered!"
Santain chuckled as he sauntered over to the ferret. "Don't have any sympathy for this scum," Santain said as he tapped the ferret with the tip of his weapon. "He'll slit yer throat in a heartbeat if it would give him a bit o' bread."
"So, you would've let him get hacked tah pieces?" Ramir spat. "Muckfur, Selia, and Hobbs had a plan tah free the lot o' us. It backfired and Hobbs was slain while the others fled for their lives! Now they're probably gonna freeze t' death."
"You trusted those vermin scum to save you?" Santain laughed. "They bolted at the sight of those lizards. The weasel ran as soon as he was free, leaving the fox and rat to die. They weren't gonna save you, they were gonna save themselves from being turned into a winter coat, wot!"
"We could've fought them off."
"You couldn't have, boy!" Santain snapped. "The worst you could've done was give them a bloody nose. But those vermin knew that you and yer brother were gullible enough to think they wouldn't abandon you at the first sign of trouble! Guess what they did. Ran off like the backstabbing cowards they are!"
The otter scrunched his nose, but his mouth remained sealed.
"Now," Santain turned his attention toward the rest of the beasts circled about the fire. "I'll help ye get back to yer homes, but I have a message to Lord Bromwell from Redwall that urgently needs his attention, so I need to know as much about these lizards as possible to get a troop out to patrol this stretch of woods. You need to tell me everything about these beasts so I can best prepare the gents for what they might be facing when we send out a war party, wot!"
The beasts looked between each other and murmured. Santain raised an eyebrow at them as he waited for a response. It was still a long journey home, but he'd like to start visualizing what the Long Patrol was up against. He had few interactions with lizards, and they were awkward at best. They were tribal and preferred the seclusion of their caves and holes in the ground. That lot, along with their toad and frog allies, enjoyed the marshes and wetlands to the south and east of Salamandastron. They didn't like the cold and weren't big fans of visitors. They were terrifying fighters; however, he had seen them ambush and slay a score of vermin the Long Patrol were chasing. He doubted the lizards noticed the hares cheering them on as they cut down stoats and weasels by the pawful. But what confused the captain was that the scaled beasts hardly moved beyond their territory, took slaves, or went outside in the winter without some sort of purpose. He didn't suppose they ate other beasts either.
"They didn't tell us where we were going and beat us if we dare asked." The mother hedgehog responded, she looked horrified to continue.
"They just called us meat and started moving us north. They butchered a few others for food before you caught up with us." Wungle continued for her. "Didn't say anything much tah us aside from calling us food. Although I heard that monitor order the others to make sure enough of us are left alive."
"That's not very helpful," Santain muttered under his breath as he twirled his mustache with a claw.
The grey ratess made several quick gestures to the otter and mole, they nodded and then responded in kind. The hedgehog family and ferret watched them with interest, Santain thought they were playing games with each other.
"What's the rat sayin'?" Santain barked after a minute of watching the trio have a conversation with their paws.
"Moss said she heard on o' them say they were a fortnight's march from their fortress," Ramir responded.
"Fortress! Wot fortress? The only fortress aside from Salamandastron is the ruins of Marshank! An' they're Southeast of here." Captain Santain spat in disbelief.
"We couldn't 'ave walked that far!" The hedgehog's father added, pulling his sick daughter closer to him. "Idris would've dropped if we continued as is!"
"Are ye sure yer ears aren't broken rat? Lizards don't like the cold and there's no reason for them to crawl about in a freezing mountain!"
The grey rat's pebble-like eyes narrowed as she made a furious set of gestures. Wungle spoke for her.
"Mosslyn said she could hear you two loudmouthed hares bickering in the bushes before your attack. She knows what she heard, and they said they were taking us to a mountain fortress."
Santain sneered. "Stupid beast can't even say her name without flailing her paws about like a madded codger!"
Ramir jumped to her aid. "Watch your tongue you long-eared brute! She never has been able to speak, but her other senses are as sharp as ever!"
Santain rolled his eyes. "Of course they are. That's why the three of ye walked straight intah a trap, wot. I told ye earlier that vermin aren't tah be trusted, they'll always find a way tah get ye slain!"
Ramir stormed across the fire. "Mosslyn would never put anybeast in harm's way! I swear on my father's name if ye dare insult her once more I'll break yer jaw!"
Santain leveled the tip of his halberd at the otter's chest and forced him back. "I don't care who yer dashed father is. Vermin are vermin and ye can't change 'em. Your damp-eared parents should've told ye that before the three of ye decided to trot about Mossflower like yer a bunch o' dibbuns frolickin' in a field!"
Mosslyn furiously began to make gestures to Ramir and a disgusted Santain. "Wot did tha rat say?"
"She said that the Long Patrol are either the most honorable beasts in Mossflwer or heartless lying brutes. Unfortunately, you're no better than the lizards who captured us."
Santain's whiskers twitched as he glared at the rat. "Sounds like the lot o' you were raised by a filthy vermin cur weren't ye?"
"Our mother was a weasel, and our father was a badger." Ramir corrected the hare as he pushed Santain's blade aside.
Santain burst into laughter, out of everything that had happened to him today learning this had to be the most absurd.
"What's so funny hare?" Ramir snapped. Santain struggled to get his laughter under control.
"Yer father must be a good liar tah convince ye of that, wot!" Santain spat between outbursts before finally controlling his laughter "I suspected there was something odd about yew two beasts when ye jumped tah save this ferret. Turns out you've been tainted by some vile vermin!"
"Shut your mouth hare! They were far better parents than whoever raised you!" Wungle roared. "They took us in when we were abandoned and cared for us like we were their flesh and blood. They taught us to treat every beast with respect no matter who they are or where they came from. You like to act like you're some noble protector, but yew would've run off if those lizards were leading a group of beasts ye didn't like tah their deaths! You're despicable!"
"Oho! Ye caddish dirt-sniffing dolt. Yer vermin 'sister's' vile tongue must've rubbed off on ye. I'd recommend ye run 'er off fore ye become a heartless wretch like her."
Mosslyn furiously signed to her brothers. Wungle translated for her. "Moss said that our parents must've rubbed enough good off onto her for her not to be an evil beast."
"Yer vermin parents didn't do a damn thing! Vermin are evil and will always be evil. Cradle t' grave it doesn't matter who raised ye, evil runs in the blood, an as much as ye don't wanna admit it yer sister and mother are just as evil as those lizards."
"You're a disgraceful fool, Captain Santain. Both Mosslyn and our mother are far greater beasts than you'll ever be!"
"Of course they are." Captain Santain shrugged. "I'd love tah meet yer parents and set them straight, wot," Santain responded before kicking Dronga. "But I've gotta take this maggot back t' Salamandastron t' face his judgment."
"W-w-what fer?" The shivering ferret asked.
"Fer gettin' Tim slain ye filthy coward!" Santain barked as he cuffed Dronga behind his ears. "I'll report what happened then Lord Bromwell will decide what tah do with ye, wot."
"B-but I didn't-"
"Ye interfered with me which led to a member of the Long Patrol being slain. Ye'll rot fer the rest o' yer miserable life or Bromwell will have ye executed, either way its far less than what ye deserve, wot."
"B-b-but it wasn't-" The ferret began to cry before Santain silenced him with a quick cuff to the face.
"Save yer tears vermin and fix that bloody stutter, lest ye want tah make yerself look like more o' a fool, wot!"
"Well, I hope ye don't mind us joinin' ye," Ramir responded as he gestured to his siblings. "We've heard about Salamandastron all our lives, it would be a shame if we missed our opportunity to help such a noble hare return home."
"Who said I'm lettin' ye come along?"
"Well, you're escorting a dangerous vermin knave who's already slain your comrade through the hostile Mossflower woods in the heart of winter. You could use an extra paw" Ramir's voice was as smooth as the edge of a blade. "On top of that, it's your duty to return the children of a former badgerlord to Salamandastron, as is our birthright."
"HA!" Santain struggled to burst into laughter at the otter who crossed his arms in pleasure. "I'm sure Varoll would be pleased to know that he has some weasels maddened bastards competing for the title."
"We've also always wanted to see the mountain," Wungle added a bit more eagerness in his tone than his brother. "We helped you with the slavers and we'd like to accompany you back to Salamandastron. We've heard countless stories of the place, and we would like to have somewhere to stay for the winter."
"Why don't ye crawl back t' yer weasel mum?" Santain asked with a smirk. "Did she get a lick o' sense and abandon ye like they do all their young, wot?"
"We're off adventurin' and we had our supplies taken by the lizards. We haven't got a place t' stay near… well wherever we are."
Sounds a lot like another vermin group. Santain's mustache drooped into a frown. Leaving these gullible fools to freeze or get lost and captured by another band of slavers was not an option, even if they were mad. But bringing them back to Salamandastron would raise quite a few eyebrows. Although the hare captain did need another eye to watch the ferret he couldn't trust the rat, but the otter and mole were good beasts by their nature. Santain was unfortunately out of options, and he had to worry about taking care of the sick hedgehog family as well. He figured that a thorough explanation of the situation along with Abbot Micah's letter would explain his predicament to his higher-ups.
"Alright ye bloomin' blighters, ye can tag along with me, but I'm in charge!" Santain snapped as excited expressions lit the Steeltail children's faces. "First we get these beasts home then we head straight to Salamandastron, no complaints, comments, or quips lest I take this vermin and head off without the lot o' you! Do I make myself clear, wot?"
"Aye sah!" Ramir and Wungle responded in unison. The grey she rat nodded her head eagerly.
"But oi didn't do nuffink." The hapless ferret bemoaned.
"Shuddup vermin!" Santain kicked the bundled beast closer to the fire. "Focus on not freezin' 'fore ye get tah meet Lord Bromwell!"
Santain let the other beasts rest for another hour before he spurred them to their feet to break camp. There was some protest from the Steeltail children, but Santain assured them that moving from their camp would be best for all of them. In truth, the hare didn't know where they were, trailing the lizards had wound them from the main roads and through the forest for quite some time. However, Santain knew there was bound to be some friendly beast in the area, perhaps a happy otter holt or some helpful Guosim shrew camp. If they ran into vermin Santain was certain he could run them off without their possessions.
The hare Captain made a torch from some of the vermin pelts and a willow branch so they would have a fire if they needed to camp for the night. Ramir cradled the sick Idris in one arm and her sister Eloise in the other. Wungle and Mosslyn carried the other two dibbuns as they began trudging south along the frozen river. Santain held the torch in one paw and his halberd in the other as he prodded the bundled and limping Dronga forward. Santain made sure to jab the limping ferret in the rear so that he yelped when they passed Thimblebrand's tomb. Ramir and Mosslyn followed shortly behind, with Wungle placed at the rear between the father and mother hedgehogs.
Santain walked in relative silence as the procession moved down the riverbank. The hare captain had the ferret kick away or stomp down any snow or ice-covered shrubbery that stood in his way. Ramir and Wungle chatted to the hedgehog family for quite some time. The duo cracked a few jokes that got a chorus of laughter from the depleted children. It was enough to raise Santain's mood so that he smiled for the first time all day, not that any beast saw it. Santain was in such a good mood that he didn't notice Dronga nudging past a pine branch that came whipping back toward his face. Enraged Santain took the haft of his halberd and brought it crashing down onto the ferret's head.
"Watch what yer doin' ye vermin mongrel!"
"I-I-I'm sorry! I didn't mean-" Santain interrupted him.
"Don't matter what you meant it only matters what you did!"
"How much of a bully are you?" Ramir snapped as he stepped between the two beasts. "You really think he was trying tah hit ye."
Santain sneered as he walked around the otter and the frightened hedgehogs before prodding Dronga forward.
"Doesn't matter he still did it." Santain snapped as he jabbed the ferret in the ribs. "And if he does it again, I'll bring my axe head down on his 'ead, wot."
"You're a cruel old fool! You think you're a hero, but you attack and injure a beast just because he's a ferret! You speak of how noble you are, yet you tried to drown him!" Ramir scolded as the procession of beasts continued their slow limp forwards.
"Quit tryin' to defend the savage, you eel-bellied water weasel! He doesn't give a damn about you or anyone else for that matter, wot!"
"I-I-I have a brother." Dronga meekly poked his head around to look at the two larger beasts. "That I care for."
Santain snapped a withering glare as the ferret shrunk away.
"Like you were saying, Captain. He doesn't care about you or anyone else." Ramir smiled.
"I-I-I need to get home for him. He can't walk and 'e 'll starve 'r turn to ice if left a-alone for too long." Dronga pleaded as he stepped around a young fern.
"Should've thought of that before ye joined that vermin gang o' yours." Santain hissed as a bit of snow sprinkled into his boot.
"Th-they didn't give me no choice. I was fishing and they forced me yah join dere group. I-I didn't want them tah hurt poor ol' Smig but I weren't keen on meetin' me end n-neither. S-so, I joined them." The ferret's face scrunched as if he were trying tah hold back tears.
"You're a coward!" Santain snapped, as spittle flew into Dronga's neck.
"No, Dronga, you were very brave to protect your brother," Ramir said as Mosslyin sauntered up to the ferret's side and placed a comforting paw upon his shoulder. "This hare is an angry old fool, heed him no worry."
I've got weapons and brains which the lot of you don't! Santain fumed. Dronga looked a tad more relieved at the otter's praise. Ramir hurried to walk aside the ferret, effectively cutting Santain out of the conversation.
"Mosslyn can help ye clear a path fer the rest o' us, an' if ye need somebeast tah lean on 'cus of yer leg jus' let her know."
"W-why can't yew and the Cap'n lead tha way? 'E's got tha-"
"Because I've got the sword yew vermin maggot!" Santain cut him off. "An' I don't trust yew or the rat not tah stab me when I'm not lookin', wot!"
"That's a great point Dronga! Santain's got the blade t' carve a path and I've got the brawn to stomp a trail." Ramir smiled at the fretful ferret who averted his gaze toward the hare. "Your brother is lucky to have a sibling as smart as you."
"Don't talk to the scum like a bloody child!" Santain snapped at the otter, who turned to face the hare with an angry scowl. "He's-"
"You're slowing us down, Captain," Ramir responded smoothly, leading the hare past the two vermin. "We haven't got much daylight, and if you keep trying to goad a poor injured beast into a fight he can't win then I'll lead these beasts to safety while you continue to Salamandastron."
"You think you can beat me in a scrap lad?"
"I never said I would fight you just that we would leave, and I hope you have enough sense not to lay a claw on a beast who's carrying two helpless children. The fates look down upon the scum who would even consider such an act." Ramir scolded the hare captain.
"Don't act more mature than you are laddie."
"Then how about you act more mature than I am, Captain." Ramir shot back before trudging forward stomping down the brushes and shrubbery lying in his way.
The last orange rays of light streaked from the horizon only to be swallowed by the overcast clouds hanging overhead. The beasts trudged through the rows and rows of oak and ash trees that stood around the edge of the frozen river. Talk had been scarce since Santain's outburst, but Wungle did his best to keep things light amongst the freezing beasts. The sun was setting and Santain had more pressing matters to worry about than some mad woodlanders going out of their way to help a worthless vermin.
"W-wait." Dronga chimed in the silence. Every beast turned to look at him.
"I-I-I know dis river. It's me favorite fishin' hole!" The ferret excitedly limped to the riverbank and slid onto the ice.
"Don't go too far!" Wungle cried as he tried to pull the ferret back to land.
Mosslyn rushed to Ramir and pointed toward the sky. Through the maze of twisted dead branches, a lazy trail of smoke floated in the distance. A cheer went up from everybeast save Captain Santain.
"That's my home! I-I know it!" Dronga slipped and limped his way back to shore and began to rush toward the source of the smoke.
"Wait!" Santain shouted as he jutted the blade of his halberd in front of the vermin. Dronga slid to a stop before falling to his rear. He swallowed hard as he looked up at the battle-hardened hare.
"Watch what yer doin' hare!" Ramir roared at Santain.
"Shuddup you stupid pup. We don't know if this is a trap or not, we don't even know if this is his home!"
"I-I-It is! I f-f-fish these rivers tah feed me an Smig. O-our huts just over tha crest on a small stream. I-if there's fire then Smig 'll be alive!" The ferret looked pitifully between the hare and the Steeltail children.
"An will Smig be elated tah see your stuttering mug again or will he wanna pin the lot o' us tah a tree, wot?"
"Smig's gotta hammer not a s-spear."
The ferret cowered under the hare's furious glare. "You know what I mean vermin, an' for your sake he bettah be pleased tah see ya."
Santain raised his halberd and gestured to the ferret to lead on. He had his doubts about trusting the ferret but reasoned he could slay the vermin and his brother if it came to it. Dronga crashed through the undergrowth as fast as his lame leg could take him. Santain, Ramir, Mosslyn, and the rest of the former slaves followed closely behind.
"Smig! S-Smig! D-Don't worry I-I-I-I'm almost home!" The ferret shouted into the still winter's evening.
"Stop yellin' vermin! Yer givin' away our position!" Santain hissed. The ferret ignored him.
"Smig! S-S-Say somethin' so I know yer alive!" A hint of horror eclipsed Dronga's voice as he barreled into a small clearing. The clearing was filled with stumps of ash saplings that crowded around a small stream whose source lay in the dark forest off to their left. To their right lay the frozen river at its widest and two boats. One was a rectangular flat-bottomed raft with several baskets and nets stowed in cubbies beneath a table in the center. The other was a rowboat that looked like a single beast could barely squeeze into it. The raft was covered in snow whereas the rowboat looked like it had recently been used.
In the middle of the clearing, surrounded by long dead ash stumps and sandwiched between the tributary and main river was a raised hut. The hut had a plain porch that circled the perimeter and looked as if a strong gust of wind could topple it at any time. Nails jutted from flimsy boards and frozen moss and lichen on the supports and sidings of the hut gave it the appearance that it was supported by old bones. Santain suspected the river to smell earthy or crisp, but it smelled foul and dead. The only sign of life was the small curl of smoke pouring out of the back of the hut and the light shining through the doorframe and cracks of the building. The closer the former slaves moved toward the hut the more the air smelt of gruel and dried fish. Santain hurried to get behind Dronga. He readied his halberd as a voice called from the hut.
"Dronga iz dat yew?"
Santain made it to the foot of the rickety staircase as the door swung open with a loud bang.
"Yew mud-eared idjit! Yew left me tah starve 'r freezes because yew wanned tah go on a-" The half-sized ferret with a hard jaw and mean-looking face snapped before seeing Santain.
"DRONGA YOU IDJIT YOU LED THE BLASTED LONG PATROL TO MY LAIR!"
The ferret produced a hammer and hurled it at Captain Santain. Santain dove out of the way at the last moment before storming up the stairs with a roar and grabbing Smig by the collar. The ferret was surprisingly strong, and he thrashed about in Santain's grip, knocking him on the head as they both tumbled to the flimsy deck. There was a chorus of snarling and swearing as the two beasts scratched and hit each other as they wrestled for position. Santain quickly got the upper hand as he pinned Smig to the floor and wrapped his paws around his meaty throat.
"I'll crush yer skull and fry up yer gibblits yew stupid rabbet!" The vermin managed to croak.
"D-Don't hurt 'em please 'e didn't mean it." Dronga pleaded as he grabbed at the hare's cloak.
"I'm gonna wring yer scrawny neck yew blasted vermin sc-"
Santain didn't finish as a foot crashed into his jaw and he toppled over. Enraged the hare twisted upright as his paw found the hilt of his rapier. Mosslyn stood overtop him as Dronga struggled to pull an irate Smig away from the fighting beasts.
"Filthy rat!" Santain snapped as he pulled his rapier free and thrust it at the vermin. Mosslyn elegantly stepped to the side before catching the hare's wrist and twisting. Santain felt a pop as he dropped his sword and grunted in pain. He threw a hook at the rat who easily ducked it and landed two quick jabs to the hare's chin. Santain quickly bolted to the side putting the rat between him and the edge of the deck. He responded with two heavy jabs of his own which Mosslyn nimbly dodged. As he wound up for another strike Mosslyn bolted forward and landed an uppercut which snapped the hare's head back. His vision became cloudy as he staggered about to keep his balance. He didn't notice the rat wrapping her arm around his shoulder until he was pulled forward and tripped. Santain felt momentarily weightless as he crashed down the stairs.
Santain landed on his shoulder with a grunt and moaned as he rolled onto his back. Looking up he could see the terrified faces of the hedgehog family. Santain could tell they were frightened of the vermin but didn't have the strength to flee or fight. Santain wouldn't let vermin slaughter another innocent family. Rolling onto his feet Santain staggered forward. The mute rat stood at the top of the stairs pointing Santain's sword at Smig.
"You vermin are dead! I should've slain the two of ye back with the lizards!" The hare captain roared.
"Calm down Captain," Ramir barked.
"Shut your mouth scum!" Santain whirled about with a furious snarl. "Once I slaughter these vermin, I'm taking you and the demented mole back tah Salamandastron! The two of ye 'll rot until yer nothing but dust in the wind!"
The two brothers' faces lit up in shock before they glanced at each other. Ramir calmly walked up to the panting hare with his paws in the air as he attempted to diffuse the situation. The broad-shouldered otter wore a kind smile on his face and placed a gentile paw on Santain's shoulder.
"I told ye not t' threaten me, family."
Before Santiain could respond the otter's heavy fist slammed into his chin and the hare's vision snapped to darkness.
Had to grind to get this one done lol. Will probably go silent until the end of the month. I hope you enjoy this chapter!
As always please let me know what you think and what I can improve on. Any and all feedback is appreciated!