Chapter Four

The Burdens Of A Chieftain

Noonvale

That same evening

Far to the North, the secret community of Noonvale was covered in a heavy blanket of deep snow. Dark clouds had moved in, covering the stars and draping the world in darkness, a slight warmth on the air, a sign that more snow was on its way.

Brome stood in front of the sickroom window, watching tiny snowflakes start to fall, glittering in the yellow light of the lit candles. He was deep in troubled thoughts as his hazel eyes followed the snowflakes' descent to the snowy ground, his mind going back to a night just like this one several seasons ago, the first winter after the Battle of Marshank.

"What do you mean he left?" Brome had asked Rowanoak soon after she, Grumm, and Pallum had returned to Noonvale after spending most of the summer and autumn tending to an injured Martin in Polleekin's home near the southern cliffs. "Why didn't you make him stay?"

Rowanoak had shrugged, shaking her striped head apologetically. "Brome... there's nothing in this world that would've stopped him or made him change his mind. You know that."

Brome had clenched his fists as fresh grief flooded over him. He'd already lost Rose and Felldoh. And now with Martin gone too, it was more then he could stand.

Rowanoak had reached for him but the young mouse backed away from her as tears filled his eyes. "He wouldn't just leave without saying goodbye. He wouldn't!" He pulled the door open and turned back, tears streaming down his face. "You should have stopped him!"

The female badger was at a loss for words as Brome ran out into the snowstorm.

Brome remembered he had ran through the deep snow until he couldn't anymore, finally collapsing to his knees as the freezing wind and snow swirled around him. His father had caught up to him, wrapping him up in his strong arms as Brome sobbed miserably, overcome with grief and resentment for the young warrior he had once looked up to. The one his sister had fallen hard for. The one who had caused her death. A pang of grief stabbed his heart as he thought back to that fateful summer day.

A ragged cough broke into his dark thoughts and he turned away from the window, pushing the heart-wrenching memories away. It wouldn't do him any more good to dwell on the past right now.

Picking up a cup of water on the bedside table, he carried it over to where his father lay in one of the sickbeds. His mother Aryah sat on the bed beside him, her face drawn and weary. Fear for her ailing husband kept her from getting some much needed sleep.

Nearly a season ago, Noonvale had been hit with a nasty virus that most had been able to fight off fairly quickly but Urran Voh was not a young mouse. The sickness had taken its toll on his health until he was just a fragile shell of the strong leader he once was.

Brome sat down on the edge of the bed, opposite Aryah, ready to help her sit the older mouse up but Urran waved them off. "I'm alright." He said hoarsely, wheezing as he fought to catch his breath.

Brome shared a worried glance with Aryah before looking down at him. "Stop saying that, Father." Brome shook his head in frustration. "You're not alright." He took a breath, trying not to sound harsh. "Here," he slipped a paw behind his father's back and forced him to sit up. "I want you to drink this. There's herbs in it to soothe the irritation in your throat."

Once Urran had his fill, Brome turned and set the cup back down on the table.

The old mouse leaned back against the pillows and closed his eyes, exhausted after his bout of coughing. "You should be with Maya and Laurel, not me."

"He's right, son." Aryah reached over and placed a thin paw on his shoulder. "You need to go get some rest."

Brome chuckled dryly. "You both know that Maya would send me right back here. So stop trying to get rid of me."

Urran Voh smiled weakly. "You have a good wife, son. She will be a great strength to you in the seasons to come."

Brome turned his head away, knowing what the old mouse meant by that. He didn't want to think about the fact that his father was dying. He knew that Urran Voh had been preparing him in the last few seasons to take over as Healer and Chieftain of Noonvale, knowing he wouldn't live forever but Brome didn't think it would be this soon. He didn't want to admit that he was afraid of the responsibilities that would soon be upon his own shoulders.

Sensing his son's reason for silence, the old mouse reached over and grabbed Brome's paw and squeezed it. "You've known for a while that this day would come. It's time to turn and face it."

Brome was about to reply when the door creaked open. He looked up and saw Rowanoak and Ballaw enter the room. The female badger went to over to Aryah and rested her large paw on her shoulder in a comforting gesture as she looked down at the dying mouse. "How are you feeling, Chieftain?" She asked, her brows knit together in concern.

Gritting his teeth, Brome got to his feet. "Don't waste your breath asking him, Rowanoak." He walked around the bed and stood at the foot of it, frowning. "He'll tell you that he's just fine."

Rowanoak stared at him, surprised by his short-tempered response.

Ballaw coughed, giving Rowanoak a wink before turning to Brome. "How 'bout you and me get out of this stuffy room for a while and get some fresh air, eh?" He went behind Brome and pushed him towards the open door. "Ol' Rowan 'ere will sit with him fer a while so both of you can get some rest." He glanced over at Aryah.

Aryah stood up from the bed, nodding. "He's right, Brome. Go get some rest now."

Unconvinced, Brome stopped in the doorway and looked over his shoulder.

Rowanoak waved a paw. "Go on, Brome. If there's any change, I'll send someone after you."

Still unconvinced, Brome nodded and led the way out of the room, with Ballaw closing the door behind them.

As they walked down the hall, Brome shook his head regretfully. "I'm sorry, Ballaw. I shouldn't have snapped like that." He sighed. "I guess I am a little tired after all."

The old hare chuckled and patted Brome on the back. "You got a lot on yer mind right now, young'un. This little epidemic we've had hasn't exactly helped matters."

"I just... don't know what else to do." The young mouse paused in front of the door leading outside into the wintery night. "I've tried everything I can think of but... he just isn't getting better. I hate feeling so... helpless."

Ballaw was quiet for a moment. "Well," he said tentatively. "Sometimes we've got to accept things as they happen. There's a lot we can't change."

They were both startled by a sudden heavy knock at the door. Brome grabbed the handle and pulled it open as a big otter slipped inside, his sleek fur covered in frost.

"Well if it ain't Keyla, you old riverdog!" Ballaw grabbed Keyla's large paw and shook it heartily. "What brings ye clear out here in this weather? That's some walk you made!"

Keyla chuckled and pulled his paw free from the hare's grasp. "Oh y'know. Just enjoyin' the scenery." His blue eyes met Brome's, his smile quickly disappearing. "Brome, I ran down here to tell you something that you're not gonna like."

Brome raised an eyebrow, his stomach twisting at the strange look on his friend's face. "What are you talking about, Keyla?"

Ballaw flicked his ears agitatedly. "Is there some kind of trouble?"

Keyla gave the old hare a knowing glance. "Oh there's trouble, alright. Is there somewhere private we can talk? I don't want others to overhear us and cause a panic."

"Rowanoak is with Father and Mother. You might as well come tell them, too." Brome flicked a paw down the hall towards the sick room.

Keyla shook his head, a nervous glint in his eyes. "I think you should hear this first and then decide if it's worth telling your parents."

As if in answer, Ballaw slipped into an empty room. "Well, let's get on with it. You're makin' me nervous just standin' there with that look on yer face."

Once the old hare shut the door did Brome start questioning Keyla. "Alright Keyla, what's this news that you say I'm not gonna like?"

Keyla took a breath. "Old Starwort was sailin' down the Broadstream, oh about a day or two ago. Made it nearly to the sea when his crew spotted smoke comin' from the North, just around the headland."

"Okay?" Brome raised an eyebrow, still skeptical.

Keyla frowned, not liking that his friend wasn't taking this seriously. "To make a long story short, they went to investigate and found the smoke coming from inside Marshank."

Ballaw's eyes widened and he looked down at Brome, his large ears dancing agitatedly. "Well that's not news I was expectin' or wantin'."

Brome shook his head doubtfully. "Keyla, if it was vermin, they aren't the last bunch to set up camp there and then move on. There have been others."

Keyla's eyes narrowed. "Brome, this isn't just any vermin. It's a band of foxes. Starwort counted at least twenty of 'em. And they weren't just staying for the night either. He and his crew headed back to their raft and spread the word to those living in the area to steer clear of 'em. They've been searching the forests and marshes around the fort."

"So they're looking for something." Brome shrugged, still unconcerned. "So what?"

"So what?" Keyla repeated, annoyed. "Brome, shouldn't we look more into this? That's pretty suspicious, don't you think?"

"They'll be gone in a few days, Keyla. I wouldn't worry about it." Brome opened the door to the hall. "But you did right to warn everyone within the area to stay hidden."

Keyla slammed the door shut with a paw, startling Brome. "Brome, I'm telling you now. I don't like the looks of those foxes. I don't like the evil feeling I got when I watched them."

"You've been watchin' em?" Ballaw asked, surprised.

Keyla glanced up at him. "Aye. I followed them around for a quite a while yesterday. They're searching everywhere pretty thoroughly. Once I moved Tullgrew and the kits to a safer den, I hurried down here to tell you."

Brome leaned his back against the closed door, processing everything Keyla had said.

After a few moments, Ballaw broke their silence. "Brome, I think you should tell the Chieftain about this. See what he thinks." Ballaw advised. He and Keyla looked expectantly at him, waiting for a response.

After a while, Brome heaved a sigh. The more he processed these details, the more worried he became. "Alright, Keyla."

The occupants of the sickroom were quiet, letting Keyla's information sink in. Urran Voh was sitting up straight in his bed against the pile of pillows for support. Although he still looked gravely ill and weary, his eyes showed a spark of the strong mouse he used to be.

Brome was pacing back and forth nervously. The sick feeling in his gut had worsened. "Maybe they're just wintering there. No vermin will dare to settle in that useless hunk of rock. Not after what we did to the last bunch. Word travels fast and I'm sure every vermin within this stretch of land has heard about it or passed the word along."

Rowanoak was still sitting at Urran's bedside, her striped face thoughtful. "But what could they be searching for?"

Keyla shrugged. "There's no telling, Rowanoak. I followed them for several hours and I couldn't figure it out."

Ballaw rubbed his chin, moving his ears up and down. "Couldn't be they're lookin' fer us?"

Aryah tightened her grip around her husband's paw, her eyes widening.

The old mouse patted it gently to reassure her. "This valley is well. hidden." Urran Voh replied. "We should have no trouble as long as we're careful."

"What would foxes want with us, Ballaw?" Brome stopped pacing and stared irately at the old hare. "They have nothing to do with Marshank, Badrang or his horde. They have no way of knowing that we exist."

Rowanoak wanted to agree but some feeling deep down had her questioning their safety. "We'll just have to keep an eye on them until we know for sure." She shared a look with Ballaw. "They aren't the first vermin that stopped to give Marshank and the surrounding area a glance over." She repeated what Brome had noted earlier.

Keyla shook his head, stepping away from the door where he'd been leaning against it as he listened to the discussion, putting a paw on the knob. "I'm heading home now. I don't want to leave Tullgrew and the little ones alone any longer than I already have." He opened it and stepped into the hall. He stopped and looked over his shoulder at Brome. "I'll be back within a week to give you a report." He left without another word, shutting the door gently behind him.

Brome stared after him, his mind racing.

Urran Voh sighed and lay back against the pillows. "I wouldn't be too concerned, son. Seems as though our otter friends have it covered."

Brome looked over at him, his hazel eyes filled with doubt.

The old mouse shrugged. "Just carry on, like normal. As Rowanoak said, they aren't the first vermin to come snooping around. They'll leave."

"Father, shouldn't we let everyone here know once we find out more about them?" Brome asked, leaning his weight on the bed post. "At least to prepare everybeast in case those foxes did come up this way."

"No. I don't want to start a panic." The old mouse suddenly broke out into another coughing fit that wracked his frail, worn out body. Brome hurried around to the side of the bed and grabbed the cup of water as Rowanoak and Aryah helped the Chieftain to sit up.

Brome took a breath, wanting to believe his father that this was nothing to worry about but, like Rowanoak and Keyla, he had an awful feeling that those foxes at Marshank were there for a reason. And it wasn't to take over the destroyed fortress. They were after something.

He shivered as another dark thought crossed his mind. Or it was someone specific. There was just no way of knowing.

Later that evening

"He thinks I should just brush it off and continue on like nothing is wrong. He's always thought that way, Maya. He's adamant that Noonvale won't be discovered. But what if it does?"

Maya turned away from washing the dinner dishes and shushed him, glancing over at the closed door across the room. "You're gonna wake your daughter. Keep your voice down."

Brome leaned back against the chair, shaking his head and giving her a serious stare. "Am I wrong?" After seeing that his parents were settled for the night, he'd returned home for supper and after sending Laurel to bed, he had been explaining to Maya all that Keyla had told them about the foxes setting up camp in Marshank and the possible threat they posed.

Maya set down the plate she'd been drying and walked over to him, leaning her hip against the kitchen table. She crossed her arms. "No, you're not wrong, but I wouldn't get yourself so worked up over it either."

Brome rolled his eyes and heaved a sigh. "As if we've had enough problems. And then something like this happens."

"You can't control what life throws at you, Brome. You know that."

Brome was quiet for a while, staring blankly past her, deep in thought. Finally, he glanced up at her, his irritation replaced by worry and grief. "He's dying, Maya." He said softly. "He's dying and there's nothing more I can do."

The pretty mousewife sat down on his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck. "You've done what you could." She leaned forward and kissed his cheek. "And your father knows that you did."

Brome shrugged. "I'm not ready to take his place. I'm not him."

Maya laid a paw on the side of his face. "You're ready. Don't you realize you've acted as Chieftain since he became ill? You don't have to be Urran Voh to be a good leader."

Brome looked up at her, a small smile slowly crossing his face as her gentle, encouraging words had given him some comfort. "What would I do without you?"

Maya snorted in reply but there was a teasing glint in her pale green eyes. "You'd be lost without me." She smirked.

"I sure would." He reached up and kissed her, pulling her into a tight embrace.

She pulled away from him, wrestling out of his grasp. "I got to finish those dishes. You're distracting me!"

Brome laughed as she hurried back over to the sink, shooting a glare over her shoulder.

Brome lay awake, unable to sleep with everything that had been going on and Keyla's worrying news that still occupied his thoughts. Maya's reassuring presence was the only thing that calmed him. He didn't know what he would have done without her. He couldn't imagine life without her or their young daughter asleep in the other room.

She was deep in sleep, her breathing slow and even. He reached over, running his claw tips over the thin, hardly visible scars that traced up and down Maya's arms. She didn't mind them so much now, but he still did. Not in a bad way but they were a constant reminder what his wandering off when he was young had done to change the course of his life and his family's.

Maya had been born a slave in Marshank, never knowing what it felt like to be a free beast until Martin's open rebellion against Badrang the Tyrant had inspired others to follow suit shortly after Brome had been captured by some of Marshank's soldiers. His sister Rose and their faithful mole friend Grumm had tracked him there, fatefully intertwining their sheltered lives with Martin and fellow slave Felldoh. Even though those events had led to his sister's death, something good had come of it.

He hadn't paid much attention to Maya at first. At least until the liberated slaves arrived in Noonvale and began to settle in and make the secret valley their home. She was the one who initiated their first conversation. She wanted to tell him thank you for his help in rescuing her and her fellow ex-slaves from a life of burden and hardship. Brome had been tongue-tied, barely able to spit out a reply which caused her to giggle and only made his embarrassment worse. But since then, they had grown closer and soon, they were inseparable. Now they had a child together.

Overcome with emotion, he slid her closer to him and held her tightly.

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Fort Marshank

That same night

Stoneclaw shivered as a freezing wind blew in from the open gates to the ruined fortress, whipping his heavy cloak about. He wrapped it tighter around himself and turned his back against it. Another winter storm was breaking on the Eastern Coast, again slowing the search down for the Vile One's target. He'd about had enough of this fiasco. It was getting to the point that he was certain Clogg had been wrong and Noonvale did not exist. Greyfur's irritated snort interrupted his thoughts.

His second-in-command shivered, sharing his boss's misery. "We should have taken the time to build up a better shelter instead of searching for a mouse that clearly does not exist!"

"We will." Stoneclaw growled. "Soon as this wind lets up and the others get back."

The two foxes were waiting for the rest of their band within the ruined palisade where slaves had once been kept, struggling to keep their small fire from going out due to the wind. After nearly a week of searching around the Marshank area, they hadn't found a single trace or even a clue of Noonvale's existence. There was the smallest signs that beasts lived in the area but they hadn't run into anyone, preybeast or vermin.

Greyfur scanned the darkened fortress, his eyes watering because of the icy wind. "The seagull is due in any day now." He glanced over at his companion. "What are you going to report back to the Vile One?"

The big fox narrowed his eyes. "Why?"

"Cause we haven't found a damned thing, Stoneclaw." Greyfur replied. "You know the stoat is anxious to hear what's going on."

Stoneclaw chuckled dryly. "He's too busy with Kamwe right now to be concerned about our progress."

Greyfur snorted doubtfully.

Hearing a loud chorus of voices coming from the entrance, the two foxes glanced at each other before running to investigate the source of the commotion.

As he and Greyfur approached, Stoneclaw stopped and raised an eyebrow as his band dragged a wretched-looking rat between them. The skinny vermin was having a difficult time getting out of their tight grasp but he fought hard, his claws drawing blood from his enraged captors.

One of the foxes, fed up with their charge, delivered a vicious kick to the rat's stomach, sending him sprawling onto the snow at Stoneclaw's feet, gasping for breath.

He flipped onto his belly and went to crawl away but Stoneclaw planted a foot on his furless tail and drew his sword, aiming the point at the rat's throat. "What ye got here, lads?"

The fox that kicked him snarled irately. His eye was bruised and his fur torn in places where the rat's claws had ripped into him. "We was comin' back from our search and saw him slinkin' in the shadows outside the walls. Either wanting to steal food or spy on us!"

The rat spat blood from his mouth and glared up at him. "Prove it fox! I was jus' curious!" He sat up painfully, holding an arm over his stomach.

Stoneclaw knelt down so they were eye level but he kept the tip of his blade at the rat's throat. "Well I'm gonna be the curious one, rat. What are ye doin' out in weather like this? By the looks of ye, I'd say you was starvin' and hopin' to steal from us."

Greyfur stood behind the rat, pointing his own sword at the rodent's back. "But where did he come from? That's what I wanna know. We haven't seen any other beasts since we've been here."

The rat tried pulling his tail free from under Stoneclaw's foot but the fox pressed down harder. Giving up, the rat rolled his eyes. "I ain't spyin' fer anyone if that's what yer goin' to accuse me of! I'm not interested in wot yer doin' here!"

Stoneclaw raised an eyebrow. "So you're just out here... goin' fer a leisurely stroll?"

"Looks that way, don't it?" The rat snapped back bad-temperedly.

Stoneclaw grit his teeth. "Watch that sharp tongue of yers, rat. Or you might end up losin' it!" He released the unlucky rodent's tail from under his foot. "Get up."

The rat picked himself up and dusted the snow from himself, eyeing the big fox suspiciously.

"What's yer name?"

"Why should I tell ye?" The rat replied. "Yer jus' gonna kill me anyway, ain't ye?"

Greyfur growled threateningly. "Maybe we should, smart mouth!"

"Quiet!" Stoneclaw ordered before grabbing the rat by the shirt collar. He shoved the rat toward the palisade, causing him to slip in the loose powder but the rat caught himself. Stoneclaw gestured up ahead. "In there, rat. I have a few questions fer ye. And if ye answer correctly, I might be able to 'elp with yer empty belly."

The rodent glared at him but didn't say another word. Flanked by a couple of foxes, he followed Stoneclaw's order and as he did so, the mercenary fox noticed that the rat was limping. It wasn't because of his nasty encounter with the brutish foxes. This was an old injury he'd suffered some time ago. Shrugging this detail off, he turned back to his band who weren't too happy about the rat being allowed entry in to their camp.

"What information are ye wantin'?" Greyfur asked, his protest echoed by the other foxes. "He might be a spy!" Stoneclaw snarled at them and they went silent. He paced in front of them. "He's not a spy. I imagine he's some vermin down on his luck." He stopped and jerked his head in the direction of the sea. "The Vile One will be expecting some progress. This rat might have some answers fer us."

"You're gonna trust that piece of trash?"

"Do you 'ave a better idea, Greyfur?" Stoneclaw challenged.

There was no more argument. His second-in-command shook his head. Satisfied, Stoneclaw led the band of mercenary foxes back to their makeshift shelter.