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Slagar the Master

A/N: I always wanted to write something about the characters in Redwall but it seemed so tightly strewn I did not know where I could slip something in. But... as I have a thing for villains and adore the vermin species... I thought they'd be an interesting group to fill in the gaps for. So... my thoughts were on my second favourite fox, Slagar the Cruel - we know there's been a lot of time between Redwall and Mattimeo and that within that time he built up a good system of slave routes and routines, so I wanted to explore this...

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One: The Fox and the Vixen

The shadows fell in about the silent figure upon the path to the Vermin Camp upon the boarders of the south lands and the Mossflower wood. This was the place for the slavers to rest up over winter, giving the other beasts the chance to replenish their numbers and grow... making more slaves to fetch in the summer. The great series of lights from fires and the many tents scattered about the large clearing encouraged the black paws of the beast to beat faster and harder upon the ground with great purpose. His nose wrinkled in excitement at the familiar scent of meat being cooked and the curious perfumes of the healers and of the females that would be present with their masters and families, holding out until the spring time came again. For the fox, the past three seasons going back and forth from this place since his maturity, this was the next best thing to home and for some reason he felt distinctly different.

Slagar the Cruel, Slagar the Slaver, was a notorious fox in the woodlands to the south of his birthplace near the red-stone house called 'Redwall'. He paced along the wagon-worn path with a sense of purpose and a hefty sac slung about his shoulder... the profit from his recent trip to a very unsavoury region. As usual he expected to locate the large, mangled old polecat that ran the settlement and owned the majority of the territory, and inform old Black Eye that he intended to hang about and needed a new crew. It was becoming routine and Slagar was pleased, as he passed by the smaller huts owned by the few non-vermin that lived under Black Eye's harsh protection as his serfs and servants, and the few beings outside cringed at his approach. Harlequin mask or not, everyone knew to cower at Slagar and not to stare at him!

"Well now... what do you suppose has just slunk into camp then the cunning 'Slagar'? Your tail's grown thicker since the last time I nearly trimmed it from your backside little Cubby." The familiar chuckle and taunt of another common winter resident in the area, a slaver that tended to work with the corsairs more then with the other beasts around. He was a sleek looking stoat with three white flecks upon his forehead, although now winter was coming his paws were already starting to change white and throw him into his ermine pelt. This being, laughingly called Snowspit, had indeed been an enemy of the young fox cub but upon seeing the cruelty of the snake venom Slagar had met in his youth, he'd held back his aggression and taunt in fear that the fox held some greater malady. But there was something in Snowspit's tone that sounded just a little too eager and excited, which to Slagar meant the fellow had kept a slave or two and that was always worth a look.

"Got something on your mind dear Snowspit?" Slagar nearly growled beyond his cynical tone, his dark ears flicking about in excitement at the possibilities the stoat might hold. But Snowspit nearly lifted a paw for his neat teeth and gave a low yawn as if too tired to tell. Slagar's ears slipped back against his head in irritation but then the stoat mentioned something about Black Eye's tent party and Slagar felt his face sting as a massive grin pinched the damaged tendrils on the right side of his face. "Ah... you've got precious entertainment from the corsairs... I look forward to seeing what you've collected, old friend."

Slagar chuckled in amusement as he continued on toward the only stone building within the clearing, which was just a small cottage that was the location of Black Eye's family. Slagar had always been grateful to the old polecat's family, for Black Eye's eldest daughter had been the one to find him wounded and groping about for survival as an orphan and brought him to their attention. Black Eye's eldest son had taught Slagar the slave routes and trades, Black Eye's mother had sewn him the mask he wore so devotedly, Black Eye's wife had taught him to make stews that were not just boiled water when on a journey and Black Eye had given him a place to return to with a significant discount to the usual rent Snowspit and the others had to pay. But when he reached the stone house he found the old polecat with his whole black face smoking a long pipe and staring toward a large tent he'd had prepared for meetings between the vermin lords and masters sheltering with him.

"You're late this season... been courting death in the southern deserts again? I hear the rats down there have a peculiar appreciation for your talent in speed... you should have taken more care Half-Face... this winter looks like its going to be ridiculously long and you've bought money where supplies would be better." Black Eye usually commented on how long the winter would be as a way to encourage renters to hang around longer, because he was an old member of some elite barbarian horde in his youthful days, he had scars and muscles enough in old age to make a badger lord wince so no one argued with him. But Slagar curled his lips at the old beast's words and then stared toward the tent in fascination. Black Eye had noted his talk with the stoat and could not prevent himself from grinning so viciously his teeth squeaked against the wood of his pipe. "Curious aren't you foxy... Well Sly One, Snowspit's acquired some very pretty dancers and one of them is sure to please you."

"That's very doubtful Old Dragon... as much as the dancing mink, lizards and weird looking polecats of the foreign lands are beautiful in their motions... they are never really interesting enough for me to consider giving them to my contacts." Slagar sneered. The fox had often been enchanted by the dangers in his early seasons here and their unusual clothing that could be very revealing indeed, but they had never really made him as excited as they had the 'weasel' types about him. Yet, with his usual slave trade involving youngsters rather then adults the chance to see something a little more age appropriate was important. But something in the cruel grin of the old polecat made Slagar snort. "Or have you got something in particular planned?"

"You'll have to find out Slagar... but I promise you that if you don't question me about this item upon viewing... this season can be rent-free." Black Eye snickered and Slagar's eyes widened in excitement and curiosity. Just what was the old wild-ferret thinking? He was usually too fond of money to ever offer such a thing and certainly not on a forgone conclusion like Slagar's interest in a fan-dancing ferret! His nostrils twitched with interest and a cruel glint flickered within his damaged eye at the thought of saving some money. But pretty soon Slagar was locating his tent on the hill and settling down amongst his stored possessions to plan and prepare for communicating with the others.

* * * * *

It was well into the night before the wily fox heard the familiar sound of Black Eye approaching his tent. He was startled to find he'd dozed off whilst resting on his bed and had put it down to the affects of his march up the hill. Once he spotted Black Eye shuffling around the door of his tent, the fox gave a soft grunt as he pulled himself up onto his legs and strolled over to the door. With a soft yawn he was almost about to make a point of being too tired to watch the spectacle, but his memory of the wager stopped him from doing anything other then nod his head and stroll beside Black Eye toward the large tent lit within the darkness. There were two large weasels with pikes guarding the entrance and when they spotted Black Eye the pair nodded their heads and lifted the door flap.

"You'll get a kick out of this kid." Black Eye chuckled gently as Slagar was led into the tent, settled on some comfortable cushions and given a mug of some salty grog that had probably been collected by Snowspit as well. The tall stoat in question spotted the young fox amongst the crowd and swiftly hopped to his left side, leaving Black Eye to sit on the side of the injury, although with his hood on none of the other members of the group seemed to care. There were some titbits of meat passed about on a tray that tasted curiously funny, but good as they were cooked in unique spices or just served alongside something not tried before. Slagar was not one for trying out new things gained from the monitor lizards, if only because there was always a possibility the dastardly lizards had thrown some vermin flesh into the mix.

"Bring out the first dancers boys." Snowspit barked and clapped his hands for a pair of mangy looking rats opened up a secondary flap amongst the tent's many folds and gave a few grunts. Slagar rolled his eyes and stared with boredom to the figures of the curious looking yellow coloured marten that slipped out of the fabric. Within her hands were fans painted intricately with black ink and her head was crowned in a strange black wig with two great sticks sitting within it, poking out and dressed in small pearls. The dancer then began to flutter the fan over the bridge of her neat nose and flutter her long eyelashes which stood out against her powdered face; Slagar was un-amused as, for a start, the female was fully covered in some strange floral patterned black cloth.

His boredom continued throughout the night as he slumped onto his back, one knee bent to rest his drink, eager to go to sleep rather then pay any attention. The eastern marten female had been a little interesting as her dancing had then shifted from playing with fans to dancing with knives and taking out specific targets produced for her. Of course her manner was elegant and her accuracy incredible, Slagar was still bored by her and by the dancing marbled polecats that wiggled and jiggled with brilliant smiles and giggling at the males that seemed to drop their jaws at the revealing nature of their clothes. But Slagar was still bored; Slagar was never interested in this kind of thing with these kinds of vermin....

.... And then Snowspit and Black Eye grinned viciously to one another and clapped their hands, ushering for their last ace in the hole to be brought out.

Slagar noticed their interest and sneered, his ears pulling back and his tail flickering at the white tip in preparation to be irritated and bored. When the tent flap was lifted however, a tall being was ushered out in the skimpiest of clothing, little more then a bikini, veil over her muzzle, and two long see-through panels hanging from the golden belt at the top of her underwear. She would have been as boring as any other female dancer were her coat not a black shade with a curious chocolate shade about her narrow face, her brilliantly shining golden eyes, her fawn coloured middle and the soft creamy white of her chest, belly and under area... and the fact that she was a vixen! Slagar's eyes burnt with shock and surprise, he'd never seen a black vixen in his life!

"In case you're curious Death-of-Mice... she was captured by the corsairs on a southern continent and apparently she's a healer as well as a dancer and Snowspit got her because she bit the tail off one of her captors. They said the black foxes are common on this other region and seriously good as warriors, but fearful of the sea." Black Eye chuckled in amusement as a strange looking lizard slave lifted a drum and began to make his talons gallop across the skin of the drum in excitement. The ears stretched and eyes opened of every animal present as the vixen gave a low growl before lifting a foot, raising her hip slightly and then shaking her jet-black tail to the beat.

The moment the flat of the lizard's paw slapped the drum the vixen seemed to spring to life and the sounds of the drum were joined by jingling bells and a secondary set of drums. The vixen spun in circles on her neat feet as her hips jolted up and down so fast that the panels of fabric over her legs seemed to ripple like rain dancing on the sea. Her eyes closed tightly as she danced around the staring faces of the eager male animals that wanted to grab her tail as she danced in a circle and then seemed to pause in front of Snowspit. She lifted her lips to snarl at the stoat before he gave a chuckle of amusement and even cruelty that seemed to force her to shimmy in front of the three regular males before spinning back around and dancing on with the music.

"You've never been this quiet before Slagar... never seen a fox wearing chains before?" Snowspit hissed, gently lifting the thin metal coils that led to silver bracelets hanging around the female's ankles. It was true; Slagar had never seen a fox as a slave before although he knew that prisoners of all species were used by the varied tyrants and overlords of the world. Slagar however had long accepted an old ideal hinted by his mother years before that 'no fox is dumb enough to be a captive', something which had influenced Slagar's early life as each dangerous encounter in his life had ended in his escape and survival. But before Slagar could mention anything Snowspit chuckled at the fox's silence. "Maybe you want a close up?"

"What!" Slagar barked, unprepared for the words or indeed the actions as the stoat grasped the chains and tugged them viciously. The vixen gave a shriek of terror as she lost balanced and collapsed straight into Slagar's lounging form. The fox slaver gave a bark of anger and kicked about to get the female off of him and she seemed just as terrified and eager to stand up. But no sooner had she stood up and Slagar sat himself up properly then Black Eye pushed her down to sit in front of the fox.

"Consider her a gift little fox!" Black Eye and Snowspit chuckled in enjoyment as they threw the chains into his lap and the vixen turned about to stare at him in terror. Slagar's strength seemed to drip away... what the hell was going on now? Why had they given him a vixen and what could he do about it? "Though... she doesn't speak our language properly."

To be continued....