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VI

Both Sides

Cheering could be heard throughout the area. It was a glorious sound, the sound of over threescore beasts roaring with pride, the sound of beasts expressing how rapt they were over the situation. Kindbeasts hated the sound and would find it to be dreadful. But Fleckle Mard basked in it all, because they were all cheering for him, for what he had done. Everybeast could see him now, standing on top of a large rock, grinning deviously as he carried a pike in his right paw. And on top of that pike was Ferrin Rord's severed head, the blood still dripping from the wound and sliding down the weapon. Fleckle wanted everybeast to see how pathetic the weasel was. They wanted their last image of him to be his defiled head, with an eye gouged out and the ears cut off. All in all, he wanted everybeast to know that Ferrin Rord was dead.

"Fleckle Mard! Juskamard! Fleckle Mard! Juskamard!"

Everybeast was still cheering his name, still worshipping him like he was the almighty leader of a horde that conquered all of the Northlands. The burly stoat planted the pike down into the soil, desperately forcing himself not to mutilate Ferrin's skull even further. He took his sword--or rather, Ferrin's sword--out of his sheath very slowly. Then the beast held the weapon up in the air, so high that it seemed to shine even though the sky was filled with clouds. All the rugged beasts with black or blue marks around their bodies stared at Mard and the weapon he carried. He seemed much taller now, much more confident about his new role in the Juska clan.

"The time for change has come, warriors! Fer too long we've sat here, growin' old an' fat an' lazy! Fer too long we've been yelled at an' had t'live under this...this demented creature's wrath!"

Kurwin wasn't standing far from Fleckle. The large stoat was tempted to turn around and ask him if the word "demented" was used correctly, but since everybeast was still staring him and ready to cheer again, he kept talking.

"How many times have we been slaves ta this...this thing here?! How many times have we been beaten, been kicked, had Rord's footpaw put on our throats fer no reason?! Our Seer has seen visions--terrible ones, ones that end with all of us at the Hellgates! An' you wanna know who led us there? Our 'great' and 'glorious' Ferrin Rord!"

Fleckle paused so he could let his troops soak in all the information. Fleckle learned a thing or two after being around Ferrin for so long. And one of them was that the beasts in a Juska clan always believed in the Seers, even if what they said was completely fabricated. Fleckle laughed evilly and shook his head.

"So once I learned that our great leader would be sendin' us all to our deaths, I decided to act! That beast we used to call our leader--he didn't deserve this sword! All the blood he shed with this precious weapon--it only happened 'cos of us! Rord was nothin' without us! An' now that he is no longer of this world, we can finally move on, get back to doing great things with our lives, an' become the greatest Juska tribe in the history of Mossflower!"

Kurwin couldn't stop grinning toothily to himself as the Juska tribe cheered Fleckle's name again. He was starting to like him more and more as he spoke to his tribe. In some ways, they were both the same. Fleckle was just some small-time vermin who desperately wanted more in his life. The only difference was that Fleckle had to kill his former leader to get to where he was now. And Fleckle wasn't smart enough to realize that all of the soldiers he was in charge of now would probably end up at the Hellgates anyway. But that just made the situation better. Being dumb and willfully ignorant made it easier to ignore some of the harshness of reality.

"But we can't do it alone warriors! Hehehe, no, we're gonna need help from my good friend here, Kurwin the Flayer!"

That was the cue for Fleckle to step aside for a brief moment so the ferret could climb onto the rock as well. The two leaders stood beside each other in front of all their vermin, waiting for one of them to start giving new orders. It wasn't hard for Kurwin to speak to this group. Anybeast who was friends with the beast who slew Ferrin Rord couldn't be all bad. Kurwin laughed as he started to wag his tail.

"Well now, seems like my new friend here got everythin' covered! I'm gonna make this brief an' simple: anybeast that wants to leave, feel free ter walk away an' spend the rest of your lives lookin' over yer shoulder, hopin' some woodland critter don't fuck you up the arse! But if ya wanna be free an' finally gain control of this country, then say aye!"

"AYE!!"

It wasn't hard. It never was. All vermin needed was somebeast to tell them to do this or do that, and they'd do it. The fact that Fleckle and Kurwin were so benevolent and charismatic made it considerably easy for them to win over a crowd. Before everybeast broke out into another cheer, Kurwin held up his paws and continued to talk.

"Good! Glad t'hear yer all onboard with our plans! But we can't begin our quest of destruction just yet! Before we can get started, we have to pay our good ole friend Log-a-Log a visit!"

All the Juskamard members frowned or stared at Kurwin and Fleckle with wide eyes. The only beast who cheered was the burly fat one who spoke simple English. After realizing that he was the only beast cheering, he lowered his spear and glanced at his tribe members curiously.

"Wot? Why Jenrik only beast who cheer?"

---

Log-a-Log's trackers could tell that the enemy was coming. They couldn't identify their exact location, but several beasts were walking through the woods, exposing themselves with the torches they had lit. Since it was in the middle of the night now and some of Log-a-Log's shrews were sleeping, all the trackers woke everybeast up and they started to prepare themselves. Everybeast acquired their rapiers, bows and arrows, spears, slings, and any other weapon they carried and took their position near the river. The beasts intended to try the same ambush as before--and hopefully it would work this time, provided Benrath didn't give away their hiding spots. So most of the shrews hid in the bushes, crouching down or lying in the mud, using it to conceal themselves. Others pressed their backs against the alder trees, clutching their rapiers or spears as they breathed softly and made little noise. The vermin were getting closer; all the shrews could hear their footsteps getting louder, and their torches illuminated their presence even more. All the shrews had to do now was wait for the vermin to get close.

Kurwin's crew, as well as the new Juskamard tribe, was fully aware of how calm it was around the river. Some of the beasts were too busy chatting with each other or drinking some of the wine they purloined from the late Ferrin Rord's tent, but something was definitely off about the situation. The dozens and dozens of vermin could hear crickets chirping in the distance and knew some kind of bird was flapping its wings in the canopy. The soil they walked upon was soft, nothing more than a clear path that led straight for the river. All the alder trees around them were beginning to fully bloom now that it was spring; some of them already grew all their leaves back. The vermin could hear the water sloshing quietly along the river. The fresh, cool, nighttime air had been tainted by their presence; now the air reeked of beasts who hadn't bathed in weeks, seasons even. Even if Log-a-Log's trackers hadn't seen their torches, it was impossible to ignore the heavy stench that lingered around the group, and the large pawprints they left in the soil. In hindsight, some of the vermin realized they were a walking target should they be ambushed by the MSB.

Most of the trackers were on alert, but it was still hard for them to see since the moon wasn't full tonight. All they had were the stars and their torches. And to top all that off, Longfang was still distracted over Dead-Eye's death. He wasn't exactly lamenting (although Bloodeye teased him when he saw the tracker tearing up at his "funeral"), but he did seem genuinely hurt by his passing. Sometimes the rat questioned whether or not beasts like him and Turvin were even valuable to the group. The only reason why Dead-Eye even got a burial was because Longfang went through the effort to bring him back to camp. And now that Kurwin's crew had more allies on their side, everybeast seemed to brush off Dead-Eye's passing rather quickly.

"Hey, d'you hear that?" asked Turvin.

Longfang stopped pondering so much and blinked. "Wot?"

"Stop walkin' an' be quiet."

Longfang did as he was told. All the other trackers looked around the woods, sniffing the air and checking to see if anything was out of the ordinary. The trackers were busy looking for any strange anomaly when they heard loud footsteps coming towards them. Then they heard somebeast's belly sloshing around and turned to face the oversized Juskamard member carrying a huge spear.

"Why stop? Wot problem?"

"There's somethin' wrong here...feels like we're walkin'--"

"CAP'N! Logboats in the river!" shouted Slipfoot.

All of the vermin instantly got on alert, grabbing the hilts of their cutlasses or other weapons they carried along with them. Traegar and Kurwin rushed towards the edges of the river and could see that not only were there abandoned logboats, but campfires as well. No blood had been shed, and no weapons were lying on the ground; clearly the shrews were hiding.

"Hmph, idiots just left 'em right there fer other beasts ta steal!" said a Juskamard tracker.

Kurwin let down his guard and grinned widely. He knew how Log-a-Log Brugo acted; any ordinary vermin would see the logboats and consider it to be a free ride down the river. And right when a beast stepped towards the boats, they'd get an arrow to the back. But Kurwin was smarter than that, and so were his pirates. Fleckle, unfortunately, was not. Once the new leader of the Juska clan rushed to the river and saw the boats, he snickered to himself and started to walk forward.

"Abandoned logboats, eh? C'mon, friend! Wot're ya doin' just standin' around? Let's take 'em an' sail down the river 'til we find this shrew ya mentioned!"

"I would advise against that."

Fleckle looked at Kurwin with a raised eyebrow. "Why?"

"'Cos ye'll get an arrow up yer arse if'n you set yer grimy footpaws near them logboats!"

Fleckle turned around and shouted before he took out his cutlass. A female shrew with a large nose and gray headband on was carrying a bow and arrow, the arrow notched and aimed right for Fleckle's lower region. The other vermin were taken by surprise before they even noticed. One moment, they were all alone. The next, well over fifty shrews had appeared from the trees and bushes, all pointing their bow and arrows, rapiers, slings, and whatever weapons they had at the vermin. Most of the vermin in Kurwin's crew looked at all the shrews with wide eyes as their hearts began to beat fast. But the Juskamard tribe all took out their weapons and prepared themselves for battle in case the shrews attacked. Argyle, the fox with markings all over his face, looked at Kurwin and growled.

"You led us right to 'em ya fuckin' idjit!"

Kurwin scoffed. "Course I did. I said we was gonna visit Log-a-Log, and now here we are. So where is the ole frog-walloper?!" the ferret shouted.

Argyle glanced at Kurwin and raised an eyebrow. "Frog-walloper?"

The leaves in one of the alder trees moved, and everybeast looked up to see another shrew who was bigger than all the rest sticking his head out the canopy. He looked down at the ground and saw the heavily-scarred ferret looking back up at him with his trademark grin.

"Kurwin? Is that you ole friend?"

"Who else would it be?"

A wide smile appeared on Log-a-Log Brugo's face as he laughed heartily and began to climb down the tree. "Ye ole salty varmint! Put ye weapons down, shrews; you all know who Kurwin an' his pirates are!"

The female shrew with an arrow pointed at Fleckle's groin snorted. "Wot about this'n? He ain't part of Kurwin's crew--look at all them marks on his body!"

Kurwin turned and faced the female shrew. "Fleckle here is the new leader of the Juskamard tribe. He an' his tribe are travelin' with us; he's a very good friend of mine. So it would be wise to lower that bow, shrew."

Log-a-Log reached the ground, grunting when he hopped off a tree branch and landed with a loud thud. "Go on, Reina! Put it down. Alla yah, lower ye weapons!" the Shrew Chieftain bellowed.

Despite not liking some (if not most) of the vermin, the shrews never defied a Shrew Chieftain's orders unless they had a good reason. And so far none of the vermin had attacked, so they saw no reason to write them off as a threat. Once the shrews put their weapons down, Fleckle looked at his tribe and gestured for them to do the same. When everybeast had calmed down, Brugo walked over to Kurwin laughing again.

"C'mere an' give ye good friend Log-a-Log a hug!"

Kurwin grunted when the shrew reached forward and hugged the ferret much tighter than he anticipated. If Brugo was any taller, he would've been able to pick Kurwin right off the ground. But the ferret embraced the burly shrew as well until they eventually took their arms away.

"Hehehe, ye've certainly got a lot uglier since last I saw ya! Wot's that, another new scar on yer face?"

"Two," said Kurwin, running a claw along his snout. He could still briefly remember the day a traitorous searat nearly sliced his nose right off.

"Heh, no surprise there considerin' all the danger you get into!"

Kurwin changed the subject. "I see you've gotten..." Kurwin stared at the shrew and noticed he seemed a bit portly. "Err...wider."

The blowhard shrew laughed again as he patted his large frame. "T'ain't nothin' t'be ashamed of!"

"But how are you gonna hide from yer enemies when they can spot that fat arse of yours?"

Log-a-Log grinned. "No need! If my enemies stink as much as you do, I'll spot ye long before you can find me arse!"

Kurwin chuckled. "As much as I'd love ta stand 'ere talkin' about yer round bottom, I've got more important things to discuss with you."

"Oh? Hehe, yes, all right then! Step into my hut; there's lots we should talk about!"

As Kurwin and Log-a-Log began to walk away, the scarred ferret looked back at his corsairs and Fleckle's tribe and snickered.

"Don't just stand there mates! You're guests of the Guosim; feel free to make yerselves as 'comfortable' as possible!"

As the two beasts entered Log-a-Log's hut, the rest of the Guosim stared at the large vermin army with wide eyes. Something told them that they weren't going to enjoy this night...

---

The vermin, unsurprisingly, were nowhere near as kind or as civil as Urthquake and his hares were. While the hares weren't exactly pristine and didn't have the table manners of a Redwaller, at least none of them broke out into a huge fight (short of the squabble between Becker and Saronso). Some of the vermin started punching or wrestling each other just because somebeast swiped their slice of cheese. The vermin were pretty disgusting as well, belching, passing gas, scratching their groins, and spitting on the ground just because they felt like it. Not all of Log-a-Log's shrews despised Kurwin's army, but at the same time, they couldn't help but look at all these pirates and see nothing more than oversized Dibbuns in need of a good bath and spanking. It didn't help that they ate as much as the Long Patrol either, wolfing down anything that seemed remotely delicious. Some vermin, such as Bloodeye and Ishlin, were picky eaters who only ate food that tasted sweet or had some kind of flesh on it. All of the nutritional fruits and vegetables they were offered were either tossed on the ground or spat from their mouths.

The Guosim didn't have the same meal this time. Instead of the soup made with fish chunks and shrimp, they roasted several birds and fish over a huge campfire. Instead of strawberry and blackberry cordial, the vermin drank shrewbeer and seaweed grog. Only the shrews drank the milk they had, and only a score of pirates ate any berries. For the most part, all the vermin ate was the nutbread, any cheeses the shrews offered, the birds and fish, certain berries and apples, and vegetables like onions or carrots. All they drank was the fiery seaweed grog and the shrewbeer, leaving the rest of the food for the shrews to consume. What used to be a peaceful night was plagued with the raucous sounds of drunken vermin fighting each other and singing. And a majority of the shrews had noticed it, and were slowly getting agitated about it. But all the prickly beasts simply grinned or joked alongside the pirates and Juskamard tribe, knowing they'd get their comeuppance eventually. Blowhorn had just finished shoveling the rest of a huge chunk of fish into his mouth when he gulped hard and exhaled. Bloodeye glanced at the gulping rat and snickered.

"I'm impressed with you, Blowhorn! You ate a whole meal without openin' up that gate you call an arsehole!"

Blowhorn snickered as he reached over and swiped a container of milk off the ground. "That's all gonna change after I drink this! Gonna end up fartin' out blood in my sleep tonight!"

"The only thing comin' out yore ass will be brown an' lumpy. We all know that!"

A couple of the vermin around the campfire laughed while Blowhorn started to drink the milk so he could fuel his rotten stomach. The Guosim brewer, Kallin, was sitting beside a very foul-smelling stoat whose odor almost made him gag. The shrew wearing a blue headband sniffed and scowled as he looked over at the stoat.

"Huh, so that's why you all call 'im Blowhorn. And I s'pose everybeast calls you 'Stinky'?"

The stoat chuckled as he sliced off part of an apple with a knife and put it inside his mouth. "Nope! Stinkfoot actually. No need to ask why they call me that!"

Kallin could already smell the stoat's footpaws from where he sat, so he decided against it. "Aren't you that burly captain who kept stealin' me beer, err...Ishlin, was it?"

"No, that's Ishlin," said Stinkfoot as he pointed at a different light brown stoat.

"Oh, gotcha," said a short shrew sitting beside Kallin. "An' the weasel sittin' over there is Plaskin, yeah?"

"No, that's Plaskin! That weasel's Traegar; I don't see how you blokes keep forgettin' our names!"

"How the 'ell are we s'posed to keep track?! There's so many of you vermin 'round here that we'd need to write all ye names down in a book!" said Kallin.

"Then maybe you should start writin'," sneered Bloodeye.

A couple of foxes laughed while Kallin sighed and shook his head. "Fine. But 'tween you and all them hares, memorizin' all ye names is gonna be aggravatin'!"

All the vermin sitting around the campfire stopped eating their food and stared at the two shrews. Kallin realized he said something wrong and stared at all the corsairs with wide eyes. Stinkfoot sliced off another apple chunk and stuffed it into his mouth before staring at Kallin.

"Wot hares?"

Kallin scratched his head. "Erm, y-y'know!"

"No, we don't."

"Of course ye do! We're the Guosim mates; we spend all our lives patrollin' the rivers an' banks! Every now and then, we stop at this village filled with hares! Farmers 'n' such; they, uh, they got a large field by the river so they can plant crops and go fishin' as well! Everytime we go there and stop fer food, we usually get bombarded by all those long-eared beasts! So...so yeah, the hares are farmers, not warriors or anythin'. It's not like--"

The shrew Kallin was sitting beside elbowed him so hard that he grunted and spilled some of the shrewbeer from his flask. Stinkfoot kept staring at the brewer, blinking and wondering if the shrew would slip up and say something he shouldn't. But eventually, he grinned and sliced off another chunk of the apple.

"Sounds like a nice place. You and yore Chieftain should show this 'farm' to our captain. Mayhaps one night we'll plunder the farm of its food whilst these hares are sleepin'."

"An' while we're at it, we can force ourselves into 'em all an' cut out their entrails!"

Stinkfoot blinked and stared at Bloodeye. "Or we can just steal their food."

"Or we can jus' kill 'em all!"

"Wot for? Wot's the point in killin' a buncha helpless hares? It ain't fun anyway, slayin' somebeast who can't put up a fight. 'Sides, it's much more fun t'steal all their vittles under their noses without 'em even knowin' wot hit 'em."

Bloodeye bit into part of the roasted bird he was feasting on and talked with his mouth full. "Says you! Hmph, no point in leavin' a precious li'l long-eared beast unharmed unless I slide my cock into her first!"

Kallin closed his eyes and sighed heavily, glad he didn't accidentally reveal that Urthquake and the Long Patrol paid them all a visit not even two days ago. After the brief silence, Razzik, who had been quiet for most of the time, glanced at Kallin and blinked.

"So, uh, y-you guys run into a lotta different species during yore travels?" he asked.

"Yah. Why?" asked the other shrew.

Razzik rubbed his right arm. "How often do you see lizards?"

Some of the vermin around the campfire groaned, especially Bloodeye. The irritated fox tossed the scraps of his roasted bird on the ground and snorted.

"If you mention those fuckin' monitors again..."

"It's only a question, Bloodeye. It won't hurt him to ask," said Stinkfoot.

"It will once I cut his tongue out fer not lettin' this shit go!"

The shrews ignored the red-eyed fox. "We've seen 'em a couple times. Wot about 'em?"

Razzik paused for a moment. "Well, did they seem hostile or anythin'? Or large?"

Kallin shook his head. "Not really. Most of 'em was tiny li'l things, and those that weren't were skinny an' not that much taller'n us. Couple of 'em were bandits that tried to steal from us, but that's wot our good ole rapiers are for."

"How far inland could they travel?"

"It's spring mate! Them lizards could be anywhere in these woods! All they really need is to figure out a way t'stay warm durin' the winter and lizards may as well spend the rest of their lives here."

"So...it is possible for, um, for monitor lizards to...well, live here?"

Kallin chuckled. "I hope not! I heard a lotta stories about those monitors--the last thing this country needs is a buncha bloodthirsty cannibals runnin' wild and rippin' the woods to shreds!"

"...How fast do they repopulate?"

Kallin stared at Razzik seriously. "Did somethin' happen with you guys and these so-called monitor lizards?"

Blowhorn chuckled after he finished chugging more milk. "It's prob'ly nothin'! We lost some pirates a few days ago an' Razzik was there when it happened. He's still torn-up about it all, an' these monitor lizards were apparently the ones who did 'em all in."

"We haven't seen any monitor lizards since then, so we don't know for sure wot happened. All we know is that we lost a little over a dozen corsairs," said Stinkfoot.

"All we know is that Razzik is a whiny li'l crybaby who wets hisself whenever he has to face his enemy up close an' personal! Can't ever stand up wit yore balls hangin' out, can you? Always gotta take the enemy from behind!" said Bloodeye.

"You know, I remember this strange tale about a young fox who cried like a Dibbun an' literally kissed the footpaws of his enemy after they kidnapped him an' held him prisoner on their pirate ship..." started Stinkfoot.

Stinkfoot and Bloodeye stared at each other for a while. Bloodeye's grin was no longer on his face. He was frowning now as he stared at the stoat. But Stinkfoot, on the other hand, was grinning as widely as possible and showing off all his serrated yellow teeth.

"Would you like to hear it, Bloodeye?"

"Fuck you, Stinkfoot," said the fox, as he stood up and walked away.

The group of vermin around the campfire managed to eat their meal in peace now. Blowhorn even managed to keep his bottom under control (although that would all change once he went to sleep). While Bloodeye was busy walking away from Stinkfoot and the rest of the vermin, some of Kurwin's crew and the Juskamard tribe were all crowding around Traegar so they could hear his epic tale about his fight against Merle. Only Dirtfoot, Longfang, and Kronno were there; the rest of the vermin were from the Juskamard tribe.

"So how was it, eh? You take yore time with the squirrel or wot?" asked Argyle.

Traegar sighed and shook his head. "Didn't see the point! It was exhaustin' slayin' that long-tailed beast! Wouldn't stop hoppin' up and down the branches, arrows kept flyin' at my face--the jumpy li'l fucker just would not stop movin'. Heh...but I got 'im eventually."

"Lost a tracker in the process though. D'you forget about that?"

"No, Dirtfoot, I'm fully aware that we lost somebeast. I was there, remember?"

"Oh right...that eye patch ferret, yeah?" asked Jarron.

"Aye, that 'eye patch ferret' who we all called Dead-Eye," said Longfang.

Argyle shook his head. "Shame when that happens, ain't it? Shit, the two of us were talkin' just after he won that sniffin' contest I got him involved in. Kinda wish I got t'know him more 'afore he was sent to the Hellgates."

Kronno shrugged. "He was a tracker with one eye. Wot else is there t'say about 'im?"

"A buncha shit, if you lot bothered to pay attention to him!" shouted Longfang.

"Didn't he use that nose of his--"

"I'm not talkin' about that otter story, Argyle. Just...other stuff. Like that his real name was Slizzo. Or that strawberries gave 'im a rash on his neck. Me an' Dead-Eye--we were mates, really good mates. Always been nice to each other, always had each other's backs, along with Turvin's, always took care of each other--"

"Always fucked each other," Dirtfoot blurted out.

Argyle snickered. "Really now? Didn't know Dead-Eye went both ways!"

"He didn't, and we didn't," snarled Longfang.

Kronno scoffed as she sat down beside Trae. "Yew act like that's such a bad thing mate! It ain't like me an' Sheeka 'aven't 'ad our share o' fun once in a while."

Argyle suddenly turned and faced the female black fox. "You? Fuckin' another female fox? Hehehe, now that is a story you need to tell me sometime!"

"I ain't gonna sit 'ere an' explain that t'yew. Last thing I need is yew gettin' hard an' strokin' yerself right in front o' me."

Dirtfoot could see that Longfang was getting agitated. He was licking the underside of one of his fangs again. So the filthy rat decided to take a jab at him, like he always did.

"So how'd he do you, Longfang? D'you take it up the arse or did he? Or did he stick that fat cock in yer mouth?"

"We did not fuck each other!"

"Oh. So he just groped you a few times, an' you guys watched each other choke yer cocks on occasion."

Longfang closed his eyes and sighed heavily as he tried to ignore the annoying rat who was unfortunately much more important in Kurwin's crew than he was. He opened his eyes after pondering for a moment and licked the underside of his left fang.

"Mangoes."

Traegar blinked. "What?"

Longfang chuckled. "It was so fuckin' silly that day. We were eatin' red apples and I kept complainin' that I was sick an' tired of eating the hard fruit. So Dead-Eye told me about this fruit called a mango. It's this, I dunno, this strange, roundish-shaped fruit that grows on trees. They're firm an' large an' plump an' delicious an' they smell so sweet. Dead-Eye went on an' on, tellin' me about this fruit an' how they grew on this small island he knew about somewhere in the Western Sea. Maybe it was near Sampetra, I'm not sure. But he said this island was beautiful, an' filled with this mango fruit. Then we joked an' said that maybe one day, we could both just...y'know, get away from all this pirate shit, spend the rest of our lives on that island, get fat off them mangoes, get drunk on grog, an' watch the sunset together every day."

Longfang paused and suddenly stopped smiling. Nobeast said anything for a while; Longfang blinked as he shifted his footpaws around in the soil for a moment.

"I never seen a mango before...never held one, never smelled one, never tasted one. An' Dead-Eye never told me how to get to this island, so there goes my one an' only chance at tryin' t'find one..."

"...Mangoes, huh?" asked Dirtfoot.

Longfang nodded slowly. "I know it sounds stupid, but you had t'be there. So no, Dirtfoot, I wasn't fuckin' him, and he weren't fuckin' me. The two of us just knew what the concept of being a true mate was. An' let's face it: we're vermin. How often do we come across a fellow fox or a fellow ferret or a fellow rat who won't try to stab us in the back?"

"I see...I see wot you mean now. You an' Dead-Eye had a 'special' relationship. Not like lovers, but brothers. I really am sorry that you lost somebeast so close to you."

Traegar started to scowl at the rat. This wasn't Dirtfoot. He was being a snide cur yet again. The weasel could already feel the axe hovering over somebeast's head; he was just waiting for it to fall. Unfortunately, it fell on his head. Dirtfoot turned to face him and snorted.

"But it is not I who should be apologizing to you, Longfang. After all, Traegar here was the one who got Dead-Eye killed! It's 'cos of you that poor ole Longfang here'll never get to taste his precious, scrumptious mangoes! You owe this searat an apology!"

Kronno huffed and rubbed her forehead. "Fer fuck's sake, Dirtfoot--"

"No, he's right. I do owe Longfang an apology."

The black rat with his long yellow fangs stared at Traegar and blinked. "I'm listenin'."

"I'm sorry, Longfang...it was my fault that Dead-Eye got slain. If I hadn't gotten into that argument with Dirtfoot, I'm sure that arrow woulda hit him in the eye instead."

Dirtfoot's eyes grew wide. "WOT!! That's not wot I fuckin'--"

"Can you ever forgive me?" asked Traegar with a smirk.

Longfang finally started to grin. "Of course mate! Jus' try not to use any more of my mates ta shield Dirtfoot from any arrows meant fer him!"

Traegar laughed. "I won't."

---

Log-a-Log and Kurwin were laughing so hard they were practically coughing. Both beasts were drunk from grog and shrewbeer, their bellies filled with all the vittles the Shrew Chieftain had stashed inside his hut. The beasts were both reminiscing about their younger days, where Kurwin wasn't so old and scarred, and Brugo wasn't so hairy and plump.

"Ye...ye couldn't even see straight!"

"An' wot 'bout you, eh? Hahahahaaaaa, you-you was naked an' couldn't stand still! And you had a fuckin' rapier in yore paws!"

"An' then I said to 'em, 'Don't matta if'n I'm naked! Yer still gettin' yer arse trounced!'"

More laughter broke out as the two beasts remembered the epic, albeit seemingly embarrassing memory when they were facing several bandits. Kurwin quaffed his bottle of grog before he shook his head and coughed. The fiery drink was starting to burn his throat more and more, but the corsair didn't care so long as he got more of it in his stomach.

"And we did it, didn't we?! A drunken ferret who couldn't see and a shrew with no clothes on took out six bandits!"

"Hehe, jus' goes ta show ye how 'powerful' this drink really is!"

Kurwin laughed again for a brief moment before he finished the rest of the grog in his bottle. He licked his lips after downing the intoxicating fluids and tossed the bottle on the floor as he began to breathe heavily. The ferret looked to his left and saw Barlo Arvack glance at him before swiftly turning his head away.

"And is there sumthin' you wanna tell me there?! You've been awfully quiet since I came in here, yet you keep lookin' in my direction! You got a problem mate?!"

Log-a-Log chuckled. "Clearly somebeast has drank a bit too much grog."

"No! This...that beast over there looked my way several times now, like he wanted to tell me somethin'! He don't like me bein' here, does he?"

"Just relax, Kurwin. He's my second in command, nothin' more or less! He's very loyal to me, an' a bit too protective. Barlo thinks everybeast is out t'get me!"

Kurwin ignored the Shrew Chieftain and stood up regardless. He sniffed and walked over to the shrew standing in the corner, trying his hardest not to stumble over his inebriation. The ferret stood in front of the second in command as he started to breathe heavily.

"I can smell attitude, shrew, and you reek of it. I don't like beasts who hold their tongues when they got somethin' to say. After all, how can we ever be friends if ya don't speak your opinions? So if yore gonna open yer mouth, you best do it now. You got a problem with me mate? You, uh, you think I'm gonna stab my good friend here in the back?"

Barlo was tired of being a mute, and he knew that vermin would think twice about getting in somebeast's face whenever one stood up to them, so the shrew folded his arms and scoffed.

"I don't like you, Kurwin. I know who you are and wot ye've done, and I don't approve of it. The only reason why I haven't thrust my rapier into you is 'cos my Chieftain here seems to like you, seems to see you as a 'valuable partner,' as a friend. As shocking as it sounds, I don't believe yore gonna stab me leader in the back. But yore a sickness, Kurwin, and I fear that one day, yore gonna infect Log-a-Log, and he's gonna die 'cos of you, 'cos of wot you did."

Kurwin, despite how drunk he was, managed to stare at the shrew with a smile on his face. He didn't even draw his cutlass or attempt to threaten Barlo in any way. The ferret chuckled.

"I appreciate yer honesty."

"Appreciate yores."

Log-a-Log exhaled deeply before he finished off the rest of his shrewbeer. "If ye two babes are done with yore pissin' match, let's get back to chattin' about the good ole days."

"There's other important things we need to talk about," said Kurwin as he returned to his chair and sat down.

"Like wot? The fact that you an' all ye corsairs aren't doin' enough to control these woods?"

The ferret sniffed. "These things take time, my friend. It's not like I plan to rule Mossflower overnight."

"An' wot plans do you have? Recruitin' Juska vermin? Wanderin' the woods pickin' up any vermin ye see scattered across the country? Hmph, even you can do better'n that!"

"Since you're such an expert, why not suggest how I can accelerate my plans?"

"Easy! You ever heard of Blackheart?"

Kurwin flared his nostrils. "That Badrang wannabe?"

"More or less. But wannabe or not, he's got numbers on his side--somethin' ye'll need if'n ye even want a chance of takin' o'er these woods! Last I heard he's got a new fortress over on the Western Coast where he keeps his slaves."

"Thanks, but I'm better off stayin' far away from that ferret."

Log-a-Log laughed. "Now don't tell me that somebeast tryin' so hard t'be like Badrang the Tyrant scares ye!"

Kurwin snorted. "Course not! But I heard of all sorts of tales 'bout that ferret; he's not joinin' me crew!"

"But ye need more vermin, dont'cha? So wot's wrong with findin' this Blackheart feller an' lettin' him an' his soldiers join yer army?"

Kurwin growled deeply as he looked away from Log-a-Log in disgust. "That beast repulses me. Just hearin' that fuckin' name brings up all sorts of bad memories. He's sloppy, he's a coward, and he only cares about his pride."

"Ye haven't even met the ferret!"

"Trust me, mate, I know his type! He preys on the innocent, on beasts he knows can't fight back! And there's that li'l incident with him an' those leverets..."

"Wot incident?"

Kurwin sighed heavily as he lied back in his chair and scratched his groin for a moment. The scarred ferret remembered the ghastly campfire story he heard a few seasons ago and growled again.

"Blackheart had twelve slaves who were all leverets. I dunno wot happened or why, but one day, some wanderers were walkin' through the woods when they found severed hare ears scattered about. Small ears, Brugo; ears you'd see on leverets. Couple days go by, and some others travelers found severed paws scattered about. A few more days, footpaws show up. And then tongues, an' then eyes..."

Kurwin shut his eyes and spat on the floor before he sighed heavily and opened them back up. "It weren't long before somebeast found their severed heads, with the eyes and tongues torn out. So that's, wot, at least a hundred body parts? And fer wot?! That monster tortured an' killed a dozen leverets fer no fuckin' reason!"

Log-a-Log grinned. "I had no idea that Kurwin the Flayer had standards! Hehe, the beast that slices the skin an' fur right off his victims' bodies is appalled by some tyrant killin' a dozen young hares?"

"Tch! You know I've never gone that far."

"Ye sure about that?"

Kurwin didn't answer. He just flashed the shrew a smug grin before he continued talking. "They call 'im Blackheart fer a reason, Brugo. I'm not bringin' anybeast that cruel into me crew. 'Sides, he's a slaver; slavers are all idiots. Wot's the point behind it anyway? You wanna force yerself into somebeast, just look for somebeast wanderin' 'round alone in the woods an' tackle 'em down! You wanna build somethin' to show off yer pride? Do it yerself or find yerself a good set of workers who want to work for you; don't force somebeast to do it! It only takes another Martin the Warrior before all them slaves you captured rise up against you an' stand up to you!"

Kurwin got out of his chair. He huffed in frustration before he started to pace back and forth in the hut. Log-a-Log could see that Kurwin was about to go on one of his rants again, so he sat back in his chair and put his footpaws on the table.

"It appalls me sometimes that vermin like me turned into beasts like Slagar the Cruel, or Swartt Sixclaw, or Gruven fuckin' Zann! Kidnap all the young 'uns from Redwall? Well, good job, Slagar! Now all their mothers 'n' fathers are chasin' yer arse across the country, an' now those slaves of yers are too young and too weary to do wot you want 'em to do! Keep a badger as yer personal slave instead of killin' him? Good job, Swartt! Now he broke yer paw and wound up becomin' Badger Lord of Salamandastron!"

Kurwin suddenly stopped pacing and sighed as he pressed his back against the wall. The ferret looked down at the floor and shook his head.

"It's just sad, Brugo...we're vermin. We should be better than that. And sure, yeah, there's Cluny the Scourge and the Marlfox clan and Gulo the Savage, but let's face it: those woodlanders only see us as those vermin who cocked up their evil schemes 'cos of their pride or selfishness or stupidity. Petty beasts like Ublaz the Emperor, and cowards like that cunt Princess Kurda."

"Ye sure do know yore history, mate! Any reason why yore blastin' me with all these names o' dead vermin?"

"It's history that's gonna help me conquer this cursed forest. I know a lot about these vermin...about wot went wrong with their lives and how their armies and empires spiraled out of control an' were run into the ground. I just gotta make sure I don't make their mistakes, an' then I won't lose. Simple, right?"

"Not if ye don't have a plan...or rather, a good one. Like I said, ye ain't tryin' hard enough."

"Then wot do you propose I do, other than findin' Blackheart an' his crew?"

Brugo laughed. "It's simple mate! You know of the Mossflower Squirrel Brigade, right?"

"Unfortunately."

"If ye wanna conquer this forest, then show them woodlanders a bit o' force! It's not too hard to stumble across one o' these squirrels. Ye foller an ant, sooner or later, ye'll find its colony!"

Kurwin caught on quickly. "...Yes, that's not a bad idea. Find one of these MSB camps and kill everybeast I see!"

"Exactly! And once they're all dead, word will spread--"

"--and these woodlanders will learn to fear me! And other vermin out there will come lookin' fer me, hopin' to join my legion!"

"But ye have t'be careful, friend, as this'll attract other attention as well. Urthquake the Tough--the Badger Lord of Salamandastron--and all his hares have been patrollin' this forest slayin' any vermin they see or hear about. I can all but guarantee that he'll come lookin' fer ye after you strike the camp."

A very malicious grin appeared on Kurwin's face as he stared at Brugo. "Good. I'll just have to slay him too--him an' all those long-eared beasts of the Long Patrol! Hehehe...yes, th-this could actually work! I'll kill that badger, sever his head clean off an' put it on a pike! Then I'll go down as the first pirate who slew a Badger Lord an' lived to tell the tale! Vermin will swarm Mossflower, swarm Salamandastron! That mountain will be open for attack! Rats and foxes from the Northlands, mercenaries right here in this forest--everybeast will finally rise up and try to take over this forest!"

Log-a-Log stared at Kurwin as he giggled like a babe, sliding down and sitting on the floor of the hut. The grog was starting to mess with his mind and tiring him out. Kurwin wiped some slobber from his mouth before he started to ramble again.

"An-an' then...and then we...we might just do it, Brugo...we might have enough vermin on our side to bring down Redwall! If that happens...those woodlanders will be finished! They'll be no place left to hide!"

"Slow down there, Kurwin! One step at a time, my friend! Focus on findin' that MSB camp, then worry about Urthquake an' the Long Patrol."

Kurwin breathed heavily as he slowly stood up, staggering a bit as he tried to stay still. "Yes...squirrels. Thank you, Brugo...you've been most helpful."

The shrew shrugged. "No problem mate!"

Kurwin hiccupped. "Now if you'll excuse me...I'm gonna go take a piss an' lie down."

The Shrew Chieftain didn't say anything as he watched the drunken ferret walk out of his hut. Once Kurwin was out of his field of vision, Brugo put his footpaws back on the floor and scoffed.

"Fuckin' idiot..."

Barlo couldn't stay quiet any longer. He stared at his Chieftain with a scowl on his face and huffed. "Wot are ye doin'?"

"Hmm?"

"Urthquake, Kurwin the Flayer--wot's this all about? Didn't ye just tell Urthquake--"

"I know wot I said, Barlo."

"Why are ye even helpin' that drunken slob?! Don't you know he's gonna get you killed, and mayhaps the rest of the Guosim?!"

Log-a-Log laughed softly as he turned around and faced his second in command. "My dear Barlo, I thought ye were much smarter'n this! I told Urthquake to look fer Kurwin an' his army. I told Kurwin to look fer Urthquake an' his army."

"Wot for?"

Brugo sighed. "Sooner or later, these two beasts are gonna run into each other. Only one will emerge victorious--whoever wins will be the beast we ally ourselves with! With any lucky, both armies will kill each other, an' we'll be the ones t'rule over this forest!"

Barlo just stared at his leader with wide eyes, his faith and loyalty in the shrew slowly dwindling. "S-so...so wot...we're just gonna sit here an' do nothin'?"

Log-a-Log grinned deviously at his second in command. "A spark has been lit, dear Barlo. I just added oil to the impending flames."

The Shrew Chieftain sighed as he turned back around and put his footpaws back on the table.

"Now let us sit back, relax, an' watch as this fire burns brightly."