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Fate of the war-born

Book one: With tooth and paw

Introduction: Well, this is my first attempt at a fur novel, meant to be entertaining in many moods. I wont say much more than that, though. In writing other books, I think I put too much in the introduction. So on with the story!

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Chapter one: Very, very confusing...

A thin haze drifts through the forest, beams of morning light shining in golden pillars as a dark figure darts from tree to tree.

Leaning against a tall tree at the crest of a hill, a calico cat looks down the hill and to the clearing a few hundred yards ahead, his breath forming light clouds that blend in with the haze, puffing out from under a dark brown hood and cloak, his golden eyes alert and watching the movement in the camp in the clearing.

Rows and lines of tents form the camp, a short wooden fence marking the perimeter, a flag on a pole in the center, surrounded by the smoke of morning camp fires. Sentries in full armor patrol the edge of the camp, their armor glinting and shining in the early morning sun.

With a nervous sigh, the cat creeps closer to the camp, his grip on the wooden bow in his paw tightening. As a Ranger in the Royal Army of Narior, he was given the task of odd jobs. A Ranger was only an official position in that it was a part of the army, but was little more than that, and status within a company was really dependant on how the commanding officer liked, or disliked as the case sometimes was, the Ranger.

Rubbing his face in irritation, the cat tried to focus on what he was doing, what needed to be done. He didn't need to think about where he stood within his company. That was for when he wasn't putting his nape on the line.

From the reports shared with him, the camp ahead of him only had about a hundred soldiers, soldiers of the Raven states, a suddenly war-hungry nation to the west of Narior, whose ruling species were ravens. His job was to create chaos and disorganization within the camp before the foot soldiers charged. This camp was well within Narior borders, and had to be removed.

That brings us to now. Now being a hundred or so feet from the camp, on the very edge of the shadow cast by the forest, with a calico cat named Vedrit.

"All I wanted was to have some land..." he mumbled as he raised his bow to target one of the sentries as they walked in front of a tent, out of view of the rest of the camp.

With a twang, and a whisper of a whistle, an arrow flew, striking one sentry in the head with a sickening smack. A second arrow was not far behind the first, aimed at the second sentry. But the aim was off, and struck the shoulder plate and shattered, causing the plate to sound a loud ring. A giant brass bell couldn't have had a better effect.

Cursing under his breath, Vedrit launched a few more arrows into the camp, not caring for aim, before stringing his bow across his back under his cloak and, as stealthily as he could on all fours, got the heck out of there. A few feet in front of him, and a few feet from the hill, an arrow landed in the dirt, another one a foot or two to his left.

Listening to what was going on behind him, it sounded like the camp got some troops with bows going.

"Time to go." He said to himself, running as fast as he could, grateful for the cover the trees provided against those that took to the sky.

Just before the crest of the hill, and worried that the Raven army would have too much time to recover, Vedrit yelled out "Charge!" as loud as he could. There should have been others nearby. Just as he reached the top of the hill, his comrades charged forward with a thunderous war cry. Both Vedrit and the soldiers dodging each other, Vedrit quickly made it through the ranks to the archers not far behind.

Vedrits little rag-tag company was made up of various creatures. Some cats, a few mice, several breeds of dogs, a few horses, and on. No one in the company complained, at least not verbally.

"Capn' said ta go bac' ta camp." A mouse archer told Vedrit as they passed

Vedrit nodded his thanks. The original plan was for Vedrit to join the archers in giving cover for the soldiers. No complaints in the change.

Vedrit had been with this company since his "enlistment", though it was really a draft, and having been with them for several months, a few of them had become his good friends, including that mouse. Vedrits plans, before the army, had been to find a good job in the city, work until he had enough to buy some land of his own, and live on that land. Find a pretty cat for a wife, have a litter or two, and it would all be good. But with the sudden invasion from the west, Narior was short on soldiers, and found Vedrit to have a talent with a bow. The recruiter told him "For king and country, my friend. If you serve well, the king might give ya some country."

It seemed a bit odd, Vedrit thought, that he was not only fighting alongside those that his kind would kill for sport, but was friends with them, as well as with some that his kind were constantly harassed by.

It also seemed strange that there weren't any women serving in the army, in any position. That brought a smile to his face. One night, by the fire, he mentioned this, and the reply was "Oh, there are women serving alright. Not officially in the army, no, but they serve, and I enjoy a few in any position." It was hard not to get what the dog meant.

When the camp finally came into view, Vedrit saw a carriage, very fancy and very out of place, stopped not far from the captains tent, with "servants" playing cards on a crate next to it. "Servants" is what everyone called them, but they were really slaves, and only called servants because slavery was outlawed. Carriages were usually pulled by hired horses, who, from what Vedrit heard, were treated as second-class citizens when not working, and were paid very well when on the job.

Outside the tent, Vedrit stopped and called inside "Sir?", his voice warm, deep and smooth

"Come in, Ranger." Came the commanders voice, also deep, but rough.

Parting the flap, Vedrits eyes adjusted to the dark tent. In his usual seat was Captain Deromer, the war-hardened Doberman, with a lit smoking pipe in hand, a table cluttered with maps, charts and various equipment separated the captain and an astute looking red fox, just as out-of-place as the carriage outside.

Dressed in a tailored black suit and matching top hat, the fox gave the appearance of a noble. Probably was, in Vedrits opinion.

"Show some respect to Lord Kirtar." The captain barked, reminding Vedrit to bow.

Bowing deeply from the waist, he remembered he still had his hood on, and removed it when he straightened, "An honor to meet you, sir." Vedrit greeted

Looking Vedrit over, Lord Kirtar seemed to be looking for something, or already found it. "Yes, I would say he seems to be quite rough." The fox commented, as if talking about the weather, "He may be exactly what I need." He added and looked to the captain, and Vedrit followed suit

"Ranger Vedrit, Lord Kirtar is offering you a promotion of sorts, on certain conditions. The only condition that will be explained now is that, should you agree, you will accompany Lord Kirtar immediately. If you reject, the King would have you moved to a company that's doing far more than pestering small Raven camps." Deromer explained, the hidden threat not so hidden to Vedrit. Reject the offer and be moved to a company on the frontlines, likely as an archer, whose life expectancy was long enough for one battle. Extremely lucky, or cowardly archers, lived to see two battles.

"It would be my honor to accept Lord Kirtars offer." Vedrit said, again bowing

"Collect your things and report here immediately. Dismissed." And that was that.

As Vedrit turned to leave, he wondered if he saw smirks on the muzzles. Something fishy was going on, and it was rotten.

Collecting his things wasn't a very hard task. He didn't have much. Most of what was in his tent belonged to the army. What was his was enough to fill his pack.

Pack in hand, Vedrit listened for the noise of battle. It was faint, and that of a battle near the end. If, and how many of his friends would he see? He wondered as he headed to the carriage.

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