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Finally completed! Just 2 more illustrations and I'm caught up to the chapter that I'm writing.

Any critique or feedback on either the illustration or the story is much appreciated. Thanks for viewing :3

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The Foxwood Chronicles
Chapter 25 - Diversion
© eddiew.deviantart.com / eddiew @ FA


The sturdy vessel pitched and rolled as it forced its way through the agitated ocean. Beneath her hull, the waves lurched and jittered as if they would rather be elsewhere. Indeed, the sailors on deck of the ship were eyeing the darkening sky with much the same feeling. Heavy grey clouds rolled overhead, swirling and billowing with an unnatural haste. Now and then, occasional hints of pale moonlight broke through the seething mass, serving only to illuminate an ocean that jumped and swelled under the erratic wind. Sails snapped taught, went limp, and were filled again from every compass point, neither the mainsail, foresail, nor jib seeming to agree on where the wind was coming from at any one moment.

Quietly, the captain gave warning to his high profile passengers that the ship was out of his control. The brigadier eyed him, a lutrani like himself, older, grey of muzzle and with half an ear missing. His assessment remained as it had when they had first boarded; that this was not a man who lacked experience at his job, nor the courage to perform it under dangerous conditions.

Which meant that they were indeed at the mercy of the elements.

“Sail off the port bow!” the call from the crow's nest atop the sinewy mast sounded thin and feeble through swirling winds.

Jaw set, the captain hefted a leather bound bronze telescope from a strap over his shoulder and set it to his eye.

“What do you see, captain?” Irons Sedge asked, his voice a low rumble amid the whispering wind.

“Hang on... wait... there. Never seen – blast it! That's no sail! Here,” he handed the telescope to the brigadier, pointing out towards the horizon. Frowning, the brigadier lined up the instrument, sighting along the captain's arm.

“Right,” he said quietly. “It's seen us, of course.”

The captain nodded, scratching greying whiskers. “Heading straight in like it's got the wind following it.”

“What is?” Irons rumbled.

“The dragon,” the brigadier said, his voice hushed so as not to alarm any of the crew. As if to underline the gravity of his statement, a distant peal of thunder rolled across the disturbed sky.

“If it's seen us...” Irons squinted his one good eye across the ocean, red bandanna fluttering in the wind.

“Then we're in trouble,” the captain confirmed. “We're barely a mile off the coast, but there's no clean wind by which to set a sail! We'd be as likely to drift in circles as to make landfall. First officer!” he barked, and a smartly uniformed man came running. “Get the men to oars, we're pulling for shore.”

The brigadier eyed the officer as he ran off shouting orders. “Can we make it?” he asked quietly.

The captain lifted his telescope once more, needing only a few seconds to make his decision.

“No. That thing must be doing past fifty knots!” A flicker of lightning darted across the horizon.

“Then call the men to arms,” the brigadier decided.

“You seriously want to fight it, Bigadier?”

“No,” the lutrani officer shook his head grimly. “But it's better than having it come up behind us. Find as many bows as you can – crossbows if you have them. Get every man armed, spears and slings if that's all there is, anything that's got range!”

“Aye, brigadier,” the grizzled older lutrani nodded grimly. He shouted for his first officer again, issuing the new orders.



“Brigadier!” Aleana's voice rang strong and clear in the darkness, and the lutrani twitched one ear, but remained otherwise motionless, his highly polished sword in hand, a solid steel shield raised. Before him, leathery wings creaking as it flew, the pale silvery dragon circled the ship, just out of arrow range.

A sharp crack and boom of thunder shook the ship, wooden timbers creaking as lightning lanced from the sky not a hundred yards distant.

“Not a good time,” the lutrani whispered urgently as the explosive sound faded, moving to block her way as she seemed about to emerge on deck.

“What...”

“Fire!” the captain roared behind her, and a cascade of burning arrows lanced skywards as the dragon swooped. Some missed, many hit. None penetrated the thick, scaled hide, ricocheting away from the creature to extinguish in the oily black waves.

With a rending crunch and snap, the bowsprit shattered as the dragon pulled out of its dive and landed the ship a heavy blow with its tail. The captain swore as it looped upwards towards the clouds.

“Where did that come from?” Aleana demanded, but the brigadier could only point to the port bow, still resolutely blocking her way. She glared at him for a moment, but her gaze shifted over his shoulder as the dragon emerged from the low cloud overhead. This time both topmasts were crushed, fore and main topsail fluttering down to the deck in a tangle of rigging and iron pulleys as men scrambled out of the way.

“Fire!” the captain shouted again. He never knew that it was to be his last word. As if respecting his command, the dragon opened its great maw and breathed upon the ship. Not the fire of legend – though none of those onboard knew it, that was a thing only of the fire and earth clans – but ice. The cold chill of death bore down upon the deck of the vessel, frost instantly forming upon sailcloth, wood, metal, and flesh. Those men unlucky enough to be in the line of fire never even had time to scream. Their own breath froze in their lungs as the dragon's rolled across them. The captain, already numbered among the dead, wavered for a moment, a sabre in his hand and a look of defiance upon his face. And then he fell, toppling onto the deck with a sound like a broken vase as his lifeless body shattered upon the frozen planks.

“Get her below!” Irons Sedge roared, shoving the brigadier hard as Aleana screamed behind him, knocking the pair of them back into the captain's cabin and slamming the door behind them. “And you,” he bellowed, facing the dragon as he drew the long sword at his side. “You face me!”

Age and years old injuries meant nothing to Irons Sedge in that moment. He already knew this was his time, his final moment, in which he could give his all, every last measure of his strength. He need hold nothing back now, save no energy, leave no sinew intact. In three giant strides he had crossed the deck. The fourth had him poised upon the gunwale, both feet braced for the leap that carried him, roaring, into the dragon's reach.

“Irons!” Aleana called, extricating herself from the brigadier, but the lutrani had a grip on her before she could open the door. “Let go!”

“No. It is you I am bound to protect, I will not let you face a dragon!”

“But Colonel Sedge...”

“Is a leonin warrior and an officer of the Lordenor army. Let him be. Either he will succeed-” the ship lurched suddenly, the deck heaving, throwing them both to the floor. Aleana lost track of time. The oil lamp guttered as it swung side to side, and then went out altogether as the deck again jumped beneath her – and kept right on jumping. Horizontal was suddenly vertical, walls were floors, and everything in the room seemed to know it before she did.

“Oh, f...”

“Highness!” the brigadier interrupted before she could finish, experience telling him that his young charge was about to say something unbecoming.

“Fluff,” she finished, then she slammed her shoulder into his chest.

Not that it was an intentional attack, more that the ship had decided that a wall didn't make a good floor, and perhaps it would keep rolling and see the ceiling would like that role instead.

“Why are you allowed to say that?” Aleana glared at the brigadier as he gave voice to sentiments that she apparently wasn’t permitted to, while both of them lay pinned against the floor that used to be the ceiling. She noticed he was scrambling to unstrap his chest plate. Not good, Aleana thought. If a lutrani felt a sudden need to be buoyant...

“Because I’m older and less important,” he answered, somehow managing to pull her out of the way as a lamp smashed into the ex-ceiling, glass shards scattering against the wood.

“That depends on your point of view,” she gasped. “So far you’ve been,” Aleana stifled a scream as he rolled over her, shielding her from the wash of water that burst in through the portholes. “Pretty important... to me!”

The brigadier looked like he wanted to reply, but the water was rushing in, and everything in the room seemed to be intent on finding her and impacting as hard as possible, and the world became chaotic and impossible to follow. Then the water was over her head, and the only thing she could feel was his hand on the back of her jacket.

Darkness, pressure, cold, and confusion as the water closed in. The brigadier was pulling her by her coat, but where to? Surely he was dragging them downwards? No, that couldn’t be right, she grabbed at his arm, trying to tell him he was going the wrong way, but his grip was unbreakable. Something banged into her as it passed – or was she passing it? It was impossible to tell. She needed air, but the brigadier was dragging her away from it.

Let me go.

Deeper through darkness, through the cold salt water.

Let me go.

She was clawing at him, nails raking his arm, but he still wouldn’t release her.

Let me go!

Fighting against him, trying to unfasten her coat, to free herself, but the tension in the material defeated her. Gods above, he was going to drown her!

He kissed her.

What the – she felt her cheeks inflate, and suddenly understood, blowing out a stream of long exhausted bubbles from her nose. A moment later, she felt the welcome rush of warm air through her mouth. Never forget lutrani lung capacity, she thought, gratefully. It wasn't much, maybe another half a minute before she passed out, but... the brigadier was dragging her through the water again. Please surface, please surface, please surface, please... air!

Bursting out into the feeble moonlight, coughing, gasping, face stinging in the cold spray. A wave washed over them and Aleana felt herself go under again, but the brigadier’s grip was still strong, dragging her back to the surface.

The ocean was in turmoil about them. White crests danced along every wave as wind and rain hammered them into seething motion. Spray blinded them as thunder rang in their ears.

And there was the dragon.

Hanging in the air, lit by the flicker of lightning, as if a part of the storm itself, mighty wings beating in time with the gusts of wind that churned the ocean into heaving froth.

Shining wet in the flickering light, the ship – or part of it. The keel upturned, studded with white barnacles, the wood splintering under giant talons as the dragon perched briefly upon it. Capsized and holed, the vessel tried gallantly to stay afloat, but it was a losing battle.

Blinded by the spray, kept afloat largely by the brigadier, only now did Aleana realise he was clinging to a beam of wood, pulling her around until she could wrap her arms about it. He pointed across the waves, and she followed his gaze. The lifeboat! Manned by six crewmen, the little craft ploughed valiantly through the heaving water, the sailor in front gesturing in their direction.

Blinking water out of her eyes, rain drumming on her head, Aleana tried to locate the other boats as the ocean heaved around her. There should have been four, enough for the entire crew, but... where were the others? With the next flash of lightning Aleana realised that the dragon had also seen the lifeboat... and she knew what had happened to its sisters.

“No!” Her shout went unheard, the roar of the storm overwhelming her. She saw the men in the lifeboat turn, looking up as the monstrous creature hovered above for a moment... and swooped upon them. Wood splintered and men screamed, crushed indiscriminately by the dragon’s dreadful talons. A shower of debris trailed downwards as the dragon’s powerful wings swept it higher into the sky, the broken splinters of the boat splashing into the water along with the remnants of the lives it hadn’t saved.

“Hold your breath!” the brigadier’s voice rang in her ear, and without thinking she did as he instructed, and moments later he had pulled her beneath the surface. The roar of the thunder muted, the flashes of light less intense as the cold salt water stung her eyes. The lutrani's grip on her was firm, keeping them both under the surface, but this time she knew to trust him. Had he not pulled her free from the ship, she would have tried to swim back up into the airless trap that was her cabin.

A shadow flickered over the surface of the water, and her chest ached. Again it passed. Please let it go away, she needed to breathe! Instinct was kicking in, telling her she must reach the surface, must have air. She was fighting with the brigadier again, instinct overriding judgement, trying to push him away, and again he jammed his muzzle to her lips. If he ever mentioned this to anyone, she thought as she allowed him to refresh her lungs, she would find a way to demote him all the way down to private. Or maybe promote him to general. She wasn't sure just yet.

He broke from her, her stinging eyes showing his blurred shape watching the glittering underside of the ocean for ten, maybe fifteen long seconds. Then he was hauling her upwards and she broke out into the cold air, coughing as water ran down her face. She felt the brigadier pull her round until her hands found the floating beam.

Clinging to it, focussed on simply regaining her breath, it took Aleana almost a minute to realise that the storm had abated. The clouds still blotted out the stars, but the rain and thunder had ceased, the wind fallen to a light breeze, the waves shallow, steady and predictable. The quiet seemed oppressive in the darkness, the night featureless around them. Aleana shivered in the cold, black water.

“Hold tight,” the brigadier stated with remarkable coolness, and she had just enough time to obey before he was pushing against the beam, kicking his legs, propelling them forwards.

“Where...?”

“We've been shadowing the shore for some time.” the lutrani's fur had formed into spikes in the water, but he looked little the worse for wear. “We must make it that far, and quickly, this water is cold. Swim, Princess, it will keep you warmer.”

Nodding, Aleana followed his lead, using the beam for buoyancy, kicking her legs, feeling her fingers numbing in the chill of the water.

Around and above them, the mist and clouds were slowly dissipating into gossamer threads, first one glimmer of starlight shining through, then another, and another, until the whole sky was dotted with their familiar lights, the waning moon glittering upon the dark water. Ahead, an even darker strip rose above the waves. Land. The lutrani clearly had his direction perfect, and Aleana wondered if he might not be pocketing a compass. But there was little time to wonder, all her breath, all her energy was going into swimming.

Time passed, the sound of waves pounding against the shore growing in her ears. Her legs ached, and her hands and feet were numb. How long had they been swimming? Minutes? Hours? Aleana honestly didn’t know, the featureless ocean robbing her of all sense of reference.

Her legs felt heavy, her feet leaden, trying to pull her down into the cold water. They had to keep swimming.

By the time the brigadier hauled her up onto the sandy beach, she was shivering violently, her sodden clothes icy cold in the night air. When he lifted her in his arms, she didn’t even have strength left to resist or object, allowing him to carry her towards the shelter of a thick copse of trees. He set her down against one, the bark digging uncomfortably into her back, but she didn’t have the energy to move.

Cold. Shivering, she huddled against the tree, her hair dripping down the back of her neck, loose leaves sticking themselves to her soaked boots.

Firelight flickered in front of her. Had she lost track of time?

“Princess?” the brigadier knelt in front of her, his furry face wearing a look of concern as his hands wrapped warmly around hers. “I’m sorry, please take off your coat and trousers.”

“What?” Aleana blinked, wishing her head didn’t feel fuzzy.

“I’m sorry, you are colder than I realised. Your clothes are drenched and the night air chill – we must get you dry. Please, give me your coat and sit by the fire.”

Aleana nodded, but her fingers were still numb, fumbling with the buttons.

“Your pardon,” the brigadier said quietly, reaching out and unfastening them for her. Aleana closed her eyes, biting her lip and trying not to show her embarrassment.

Left with only her underwear, Aleana huddled by the fire, the heat of the flames slowly pushing back the chill night air, returning the strength to her fingers.

“I'm really very sorry, Princess,” the brigadier said, apologising again as he sat behind her, legs either side and arms around her middle. She stiffened for a moment, then relaxed. Of all people to share her moment of weakness, the brigadier was surely the least troublesome.

“I’m sorry, Princess, I don’t even have a blanket to offer you...”

“Do not be silly,” Aleana said gently, her hand resting on his furry arm. “You could not have foreseen a dragon. Besides, had you carried a blanket, it would also be wet. And cold,” she added with a glance at her clothes as they hung from the branch above the fire. “And of course, you would die rather than tell anyone.”

“Yes,” the brigadier agreed after only a moment's pause.

Staring into the flames for several seconds, Aleana took a deep breath. “Did any of our men make it to shore?”

The lutrani shook his head, his furry cheek rolling against her hair. “If they did, I did not see them. The dragon was... thorough.”

“Damn it!” Rubbing the bridge of her nose, she squeezed her eyes shut.

“Highness,” the lutrani said softly. “All the men who sailed with us did so of their free will. They did so because they believe in you, and that it was important that you reach the Freelands. They have fulfilled their duty, and their deaths are honourable...”

“How can you be so,” on her feet before she knew it, Aleana swore at him, “stupid? I do not give a damn about their deaths being ‘honourable’! Dying is not honourable! It is not noble, or a person’s duty, it is just a waste! A horrible, stupid, unnecessary waste! Some of those men will have families! Families that my decision to come here has taken them away from! Families whose fathers and mothers will not be going home! Do you believe it will be any comfort to them to know that their deaths were ‘honourable’? Do you?” Aleana screamed the last words, not even noticing the tears on her face.

“Princess...” the brigadier looked almost terrified as he gazed up at her, lost for words.

“Honourable means nothing when it was unnecessary! I did not have to come here, not this way. It was my foolish choice and the cost is now borne by people who had nothing to do with it! My stupidity has done this! Where is the... the honour in that?” Anger was burning out, rapidly being replaced by horror and guilt, her vision clouded by hot tears. “My fault, and their loss... there’s no honour in that...”

“Princess...” Rising to his feet, the brigadier went to her, putting his arms around her gently as she sobbed bitterly against his chest. “Lass...” he tried again, uncertain what to say. “Your decision to come here was not wrong. His Majesty must be informed of what has happened, or many more lives may be lost. If our actions here today save a thousand, then they have been worth the price.”

Shaking, Aleana found herself clinging to him as he spoke, his fur still slightly damp and cool against her hot cheeks, his calm, measured voice soft in her ears.

“Any military commander will face this choice one day, lass,” the lutrani went on gently. “It is the nature of such things that sometimes a few must be sacrificed in order to save many. It is a decision that even the most experienced generals face with dread, and it is a decision that never becomes easier. The only thing that we may do is remember that those under our command chose the life they did. They know full well that the fateful choice may one day be made, and that they may be a part of that fated few, but they believe in their commanders. They have faith that it is a decision made only out of dire need, of greatest desperation, and that if they do not perform their duty then many more will suffer. All soldiers, of land and sea accept that possibility, and that sacrifice. They would not be soldiers if they did not.”

He stroked her hair as he spoke, and Aleana found herself relaxing, just slightly. He was right, of course, and she told him so, head still resting against his chest. “But I do not like it,” she added quietly.

“No, Princess,” the brigadier sighed softly. “None ever do.” The lutrani paused for the space of several breaths. “I am sorry that these times must be yours to bear,” he said at length. “Such matters are...” he trailed off.

“What?” Aleana prompted, pushing back enough to look up to his face.

“Forgive me,” he shook his head. “I was about to speak out of turn.”

“Tell me anyway.”

Closing his eyes, the brigadier sighed. “I'm sorry. I was about to say that, such matters are best left to adults.”

“I see,” Aleana took a deep breath, stepping back, wiping the backs of her fists across her cheeks. “Is that how you see me? As a child? Incapable of making the decisions that adults make?”

“Incapable, no, lass,” the lutrani knelt before her, placing himself so that she was looking down at him, grasping her hands in his. “You have ever proven that your judgement is sound beyond your years. But I regret that those years are all you have behind you in these times. I regret that I cannot return you to the safety of childhood, to the simple joy of being alive and young, because you deserve a happier time, one where war and death and the eternal loops and fa&ccedil;ades of political manoeuvres need not concern you.”

Aleana found herself looking at the ground between them, unable to meet his gaze. “There are times when I regret that, too,” she admitted quietly. Raising her head, she faced him, eyes locking with his. “You spoke about sacrifice, about those who forfeit their wellbeing, their lives, for others. This is my sacrifice. This is my duty. I perform it because if I do not, then thousands shall suffer for it. And I shall perform this duty until death itself stops me.”

The brigadier bowed his head solemnly, resting his forehead against her knuckles.

“We can search the shoreline in the morning, Princess,” he said quietly. “Perhaps we will yet find some survivors, but we would never locate them in the dark.”

“Thank you,” Aleana sighed. “Brig Riv?” she asked, a sudden thought occurring to her.

“Princess?”

“My underwear becomes transparent when wet, does it not?”

“A little bit, yes,” he admitted, his gaze fixed on her toes.



“Minister?”

“Yes?” Milton looked up from the chess board to find a dishevelled young man at the entrance to the room. “What do you want? Is that a pigeon?”

“Yes, Minister,” the youth nodded, crossing the room and holding out a piece of parchment with his free hand, the bird under his other arm looking as disgruntled as it’s limited range of expression and movement would allow. “You said to bring you any messages without delay, so I did.”

Milton glanced across the table to the lutrani opposite, who hid a smile.

“Very well,” Milton accepted the parchment, then indicated that the messenger was free to leave with a dismissive wave of his hand.

“The news?” Minister Silverwater asked, slyly moving one of his chess pieces while Milton was reading the small note.

“Riders confirm the Lordenor army where we were told it would be, marching east.”

“Then the message from Irontooth...”

“Was true and honest.” Milton folded his hands thoughtfully for a moment, then grinned. “I will have him this time, Romon! That arrogant swine has finally made his mistake!” he stated fiercely, standing and pacing towards the fireplace, jabbing at the wood with a poker. “He comes to the Freelands, my lands, and thinks that he can dictate our future?”

“Then we will ride to meet him?” the lutrani asked.

“No,” Milton shook his head, turning to face the other minister. “We won’t ride to meet him, Romon. Not meet him. We will ride to crush him!”



Farview was a town with problems.

It was built on a steep incline for one. The main road, running parallel to the shore went from barely above sea level to sixty feet above, hoisted on the rocky shoulders of shimmering silver cliffs. Not that there was any silver in them – that was another problem – just thousands of tiny grains of quartz. Nonetheless, the resulting rainbow along the rock at sunset was quite famous, as were the torrents of water than slewed down the gutters every time it rained.

Then there were the jellyfish. Once every year, thousands of the gooey creatures seemed to spontaneously converge upon what little beach the town could lay claim to, their entire aim in life apparently to be trodden on by hapless waders.

None of these were the problem that most of the inhabitants were cursing today, however. Today’s irritant of choice was, as it had been for several days, the invading army.

It had been a fittingly red dawn the day the crimson banners of Lordenor were sighted on the horizon, four ships ploughing relentlessly nearer through the dark sea. The only reason that every man on the town’s garrison had not died that morning was that the commander, seeing how totally outnumbered they were, had called upon the invaders to guarantee the safety of their townsfolk in exchange for a peaceful entry. Lordenor’s army had accepted the terms, and that, it appeared, was that. The guarantee of safety was upheld, and once Lordenor troops were in place and patrolling the streets, there was remarkably little trouble. The townsfolk were permitted to continue fishing, farming, tailoring, or any other craft to which they were trained and able to perform. A hefty proportion of their produce was rerouted to the soldiers in their midst, but sufficient was left that nobody went hungry or naked. There were even those who found themselves sleeping more soundly at night, knowing that the streets were safe, the local thieves in the jail, and nobody would be coming home drunk.

There was, however, one thing the invaders did not grant the townsfolk.

Freedom.

Within hours of the invasion, Farview was locked down. Soldiers were stationed at every corner of every field, on every street, on every dock and pier. A curfew ran from evening watch until dawn, taverns were closed to all but the Lordenor military, and gatherings of more than four people would be dispersed by the first patrol that passed. Those travellers who inadvertently entered the town were informed that they weren’t leaving again, declared as additional labour to the townsfolk, and set to whatever task seemed most suitable or necessary.

Small wonder that some objected and refused to cooperate.

Led by some of the town guards, a small group of resistance fighters remained actively opposed to the invaders, and took it upon themselves to spoil as many of their plans as possible. Sadly, due to the rather effective dispersal of Lordenor’s troops, this often amounted to sneaking around in the dark, stealing or destroying unattended supplies. Still, as their leader decided, every little helped, and such goods and equipment as they did manage to liberate could be used to aid the townsfolk and bolster their ranks until such a time as they were able to take a more decisive action.



“You don’t want to go that way, miss.”

Aleana paused in some surprise, looking around for the source of the unexpected statement. Behind her, the battered old sign suggested five miles to Farview town, which she recognised as the port their ship had been heading for. The sound of metal across leather sounded from her right as the brigadier drew his sword – the one possession besides his tinderbox that the lutrani had managed to save from the sinking ship. Following his gaze, she found it pointing upwards into the shadows of a large beech tree that overhung the road.

“You can put that away, friend, I’m no bandit, and no threat to you,” the man’s voice was unexpectedly calm, and perhaps it was this tone that caused the brigadier to glance about him. “But no, I’m not alone,” the man continued, still sitting at his ease on a large branch. “And you’d do well to heed my words. Ain’t nothing but trouble up that road.”

“What kind of trouble?” Aleana asked, and the man’s gaze focused on her again, brown eyes studying her intently.

“More than you look like you’ll handle, miss, if you’ll pardon my saying so. Young lady like yourself wouldn’t do well to wander into occupied territory with just the one escort.”

“Occupied? By whom?”

The man regarded her thoughtfully for a few moments, his eyebrows drawing together. With unexpected speed, he slid down from his perch, landing gracefully on the road. Late thirties, maybe forty, Aleana decided, and with several days worth of beard. Clothing worn but clean, and an attitude that seemed less hostile than it was concerned.

“Stay your blade, friend,” he raised a hand towards the brigadier.

“Then you’ll keep your distance, sir,” the lutrani stated calmly.

“If you wish. Do you really not know?” the man glanced at the brigadier appraisingly, then looked back to Aleana, seeming to decide that she was in charge.

“Know what?”

“Aye, figures...” this didn’t seem to be directed at anyone in particular, his gaze on the pebbles underfoot. “Guess nobody cares. Why would they make a fuss, after all? We’re not a big town.” Sighing, he looked up at the sky.

“We? You’re from Farview?” the brigadier asked, lowering his sword until the tip hovered above the ground, but not prepared to sheathe it just yet, his ears still alert to the surroundings, mindful of the man’s admission that he had company.

“Was from Farview,” the man corrected. “Ain’t no home of mine that I recognise now. Jail’s full of my friends, and the streets are empty but for Irontooth’s soldiers.”

“I hardly think that...” Aleana stopped as the brigadier’s hand landed on her shoulder, and she realised she had been about to say something very foolish. “That... nobody cares,” she finished, weakly.

“Wouldn’t know it,” the man said bitterly. “Do you know how many soldiers were sent to help defend us?” he snarled, his face twisting with sudden anger.

Aleana shook her head mutely.

“Fifty. Just fifty.” he said heavily. “No useful resources. Low probability of attack,” the man said, mimicking a dry and official tone. “They just don’t get it, do they?”

“Who?”

“The council! The ministers! Effing Goldwood! Sodding Irontooth isn’t out to take our resources, he wouldn’t give a damn if there was a gold mine under this town or naught but jellyfish, it’s a landing site and a foothold, and now his men are sat there all happy in my town!”

Aleana glanced up at the brigadier, but the lutrani’s gaze never left the man ahead. He had lapsed into silence, thudding one fist against the other, looking thoughtful.

“My town,” he repeated suddenly. “Now it’s crawling with Irons.”

“Irons?” Aleana repeated, confused and momentarily thinking of a brave leonin warrior...

“Iron Army,” the man said, as if this clarified things. “What the news scrolls are calling Lordenor army... because of Irontooth?” he went on, frowning at her.

“Oh! I see! I am sorry, I have a lot on my mind,” as the man looked at her, Aleana felt herself flush.

“Right... well, I can understand that,” he nodded.

“So why are you here?” she asked.

Drawing himself up straighter, the man’s expression hardened. “I was a sergeant major in the Farview town guard,” he stated. “Now I’m second in command in the Farview Liberation Front. We do our best to make sure the townsfolk are coming to no harm, and prevent travellers like yourselves from walking right into that spider web that’s waiting.”

“That’s... very brave of you.”

“Brave?” the man raised an eyebrow, then shook his head with a bitter laugh. “No. Brave would be walking in there and taking my town back from the scum now living it in. But we don’t have the men, and I won’t spend what few lives I still have under me on a futile quest.”

“I understand,” Aleana said quietly. “Then I wish you good fortune. If you will excuse us,” she turned back towards the road as indicated by the sign post.

“Did you not hear me, miss?” There was a change to the man’s tone. Before he had sounded calm, cautiously friendly, but now there was a stern, cold edge behind his words. “I told you that you don’t want to be going that way.”

“I heard you quite clearly, thank you,” Aleana looked at him over her shoulder. “But I have important business in this town and I cannot turn back.”

“And I cannot let you continue!” All hint of friendliness had vanished. “Giles! Fenwin, Lenny!”

Indeed he had not been lying when he said he wasn’t alone, Aleana discovered. A little down the road ahead, two people had stepped out of the bushy shadows and were now advancing towards them. Two more came in from behind, as a sixth appeared from the bushes by his leader. Spacing themselves in a circle, they stopped some five yards away, adopting solid postures that made it quite clear that they considered passage to be denied.

Aleana, and evidently the brigadier, hadn't noticed any of them. Their leader wasn't lying about his military background, she suspected.

“I’m sorry,” the first man said shortly. “But access to Farview is prohibited to all. I have no choice but to detain you for your own safety. Please hand over your sword, friend,” he finished, addressing the brigadier.

“No, wait,” Aleana put her hand on the lutrani’s forearm as he lifted the blade. “We’ll go back,” she told the man.

“No you won’t,” he shook his head. “You’ll try to find another way past my men. If you were going to go back you would have done so after I warned you.”

Well, to be fair, that was entirely true, Aleana thought, though it was regrettable how obvious her thoughts must be.

“Your sword please, sir. You have my word that neither of you will be harmed if you cooperate.”

“Do it,” Aleana told him quietly, sensing she had the brigadier's attention even though his gaze never left the men before them. “You can’t fight...” her words turned into a yelp of surprise as a hand grabbed the hood of her jacket, pulling her backwards roughly. The brigadier turned, weapon raised, but too late, they were already separated.

“Stop it!” Aleana grabbed at her vulpani assailant as he turned his back on her, apparently deciding that the brigadier was the important threat. Pivoting on one foot, he lashed out with unexpected speed, catching her with a stinging blow across the side of her face that knocked her to the ground.

The brigadier was fast off the mark – he had already rammed his fist into the leader's face as the others caught up to him, wrestling his sword from his grasp by weight of numbers. Strong and skilled as the brigadier was, a six on one fight against trained military men had never been likely to go in his favour, and he was swiftly pinned to the ground. It was satisfying that he had landed the leading man a kick to the stomach that had sent him sprawling on his back, however.

“No!” flinching back, Aleana scrambled away as the vulpani reached down for her. Instinctively turning her face away, head shielded by her arms, Aleana waited to be hauled to her feet.

It didn’t happen.

Instead, there was a heavy thud, a curse, and the sound of a body landing hard on the ground. A swish, a thump, a yelp – Aleana turned her head as a flash of silver shone in the corner of her vision. The vulpani who had accosted her was flat on his back, his ankles bound by what looked like coils of silvery rope. As she watched, it shifted, unwound itself, and coiled back around the hand of a red headed young man who seemed to have appeared in the midst of the self-declared Liberation Front men.

Aleana blinked at him, too astonished to move. The brigadier was not. The moment he saw that the men around him were distracted by their unexpected visitor he managed to twist himself over onto his back, freeing himself from their grasp and swiftly booting a glowering lupari in the face as the other lunged down at him.

The newcomer seemed to have already sided with the brigadier, Aleana realised, swiftly striding towards the two men as they advanced on the lutrani, still focussed on their original goal. He raised his hand, the strange silvery object twisting, reforming into a sturdy metallic staff.

Whack! Thunk!

The end of that inexplicable weapon bounced from one head to the other, laying both men senseless in the road. To Aleana's surprise, the russet haired youth stepped forwards as one of his opponents keeled over backwards, managing to break his fall and prevent him breaking his head on a stone.

It was only now, watching him straighten, that Aleana registered that this young man wasn't exactly one hundred percent human. The forest green hood he wore had fallen back behind his shoulders in the scuffle, revealing large, triangular, furry ears that projected from his head in slightly the wrong place. How odd...

“Please don't!” the unusual youth said, gesturing with his free hand at the vulpani as the soldier grasped his sword and made as if to rise. “I'm not entirely sure how to stop this thing taking your head off,” he added, the strange staff thing in his hand moulding itself into a sturdy looking club with a knobbly end. “Or bashing it in,” he amended.

The vulpani looked over the young man's shoulder, watching the brigadier knock his leader flat on his back for the third time, then glanced at his comrades, who were either unconscious in the dirt or groaning and rubbing their heads.

“Thanks,” the young man nodded as the vulpani compliantly released his sword, sitting down again resignedly. He glanced at the brigadier, who nodded politely, then looked down at Aleana.

“Goodness... what–“ she realised her eyes were on the young man's ears and quickly remembered her manners. “Who are you?” she amended hastily. Flushing, he put his hands behind his head, pulling his hood hood up, quickly covering those curious ears.

“Cripes, Red,” a voice spoke up, interrupting whatever response may have been forthcoming, and a moment later its owner appeared at the strange young man’s side. “Don’t leave any for us will you?” The sciurel dug an elbow into his friend’s ribs, and the youth nodded absently under his hood, displaying the unmistakable air of someone who has inadvertently caused a situation that he has no idea how to handle. “You two all right, are you?” the sciurel looked from Aleana to the brigadier as the lutrani hurried to her side.

“Yes,” Aleana nodded, taking the brigadier’s hand and being pulled to her feet. “But you should...” she gestured to where the leader of the men was picking himself up.

“That wouldn’t be wise,” a tall lupari, a newcomer that Aleana hadn't noticed, growled at the leader, hauling one of the men to his feet and pinning his arms behind him in a way that made it quite clear they’d get broken if there was further trouble. The man looked at him for a moment, then nodded, resignedly holding his hands out from his sides in a gesture of peace.

“Keep it calm, lads,” he instructed his men, looking down as the slightly scruffy looking sciurel padded over to stand in front of him, regarding him for several long seconds before speaking.

“That weren’t the friendliest of greetings to give a young lass.”

“I’m trying to keep her out of trouble! You do not want to go to Farview,” the man stated firmly, folding his arms and looking towards Aleana.

The sciurel smiled grimly. “That’s not really your call, guv.” Sighing, he shook his head. “I don’t think you meant no ‘arm, but you and your boys got to understand personal freedoms about going where you want, when you want.”

“These lands are my responsibility, as are travellers in them, and I’ll take whatever action I deem necessary for the greater good.” Wincing, he dabbed at his nose, fingers coming away bloodied. “And were Farview not occupied I would have you all arrested and imprisoned for assaulting town guards!”

“But they are occupied, guv, let’s face it,” the sciurel shrugged slim shoulders. “And 'asslin’ random travellers ain’t gonna change that.”

“I cannot permit you to enter the town!”

“Well you sure ain’t stopping us, neither. Maybe you’ve noticed, me and my friends can take care of ourselves, and I don’t doubt the fella and lass here can do the same when you're not playing sly and dirty like. Now if you don’t mind, a couple of questions before we take our leave...”

Aleana noticed that the hooded young man was still looking at her, and that his eyes were a glittering blue. She felt herself blush, and tried to give him a small smile of gratitude, but suspected it looked flustered and confused instead.

The brigadier addressed him softly, apparently preferring that the focus of most the others present remain on the sciurel. “Thank you,” he said gravely. “Your pardon, young sir, I must ask – that weapon...”

“I... couldn't explain it if I tried,” the red headed young man said, sounding apologetic, but Aleana caught the hesitation in his voice that suggested he knew more than he wanted to admit.

“I see. I assume it isn't for sale? No, I'm sorry, you must forgive me. I have nothing to offer in exchange anyway, but these are troubled times and I am driven to seek out any advantage that might be gained.”

“For who?”

The brigadier regarded him for a moment, then smiled. “My young friend, if I asked you bluntly where your allegiances lie, would you honestly want to tell me?”

The youth hesitated. “I'm not even sure myself,” he admitted. “Right now I'd settle for not getting anyone killed. And allegiances be damned! From where I'm standing, everyone looks as bad as the others!”

The lutrani eyed him for a few seconds. “Young sir, you may in fact be wiser than anyone else here,” he confided. “In which case it behoves you to use that,” he nodded to what was now a silvery glove, “With caution and thought. If you are truly neutral in the events around you, then I suggest you remain so – and avoid asking others where their loyalties lie,” he advised. “That knowledge can rarely do you good when you claim not to care.”

“Understood,” the young man nodded. “Will, um... w-will you be ok?” he looked briefly at Aleana again, and she felt herself blush once more. Must stop doing that!

“Yes,” she nodded quickly, wishing she had a hood of her own to hide her features, but consoled by the fact he looked every bit as awkward as she currently felt, scuffing his toes in the dirt and avoiding her gaze the moment she returned his.

“We should take our leave,” the brigadier suggested, his hand on her elbow, nudging her gently along the road and away from the group of people.

“If you will excuse us,” she said softly, and the young man nodded wordlessly as they quietly departed.

Glancing over her shoulder, making sure they were out of earshot, Aleana looked up at the brigadier. “How very peculiar,” she said, and the lutrani nodded. “Will they be all right? Should we have stayed...”

“I think that young man can take care of himself, Princess, as can his friends. Three down, three standing, even numbers; they'll be quite fine now. It seems best to leave before further questions are asked.”

“I suppose so,” Aleana sighed, glancing over her shoulder. “He was rather...”

“Interesting. I have never seen a weapon like that, and rather hope not to again. That is not something I would fancy my chances against. I hope he is honest in his claim to neutrality.”

“Yes, but he was quite young...”

“Near your own age, Highness, if I am not mistaken.”

“Really? He was not very tall...” Aleana mused.

“It's probably unfair to compare him to a leonin family,” the brigadier chuckled. “By that standard, I suspect I'd be in my early teens myself.”

Aleana looked up at him.

“Now that is something I cannot even imagine...”

The brigadier gave a short bark of a laugh. “Something you will learn over time, Princess,” he smiled. “Is that when you look into a mirror and see the grey in your pelt, the teenager inside you will wonder how that happened.”

“I do not even know if that is good or bad,” Aleana admitted, and the brigadier laughed again.

“You have about twenty five years to figure that out,” he smiled.



“Nicely done, Red.” Feral jumped as the sciurel approached, realising he had been staring along the road after the young woman, though both she and her companion were long out of sight.

“What?”

“I said nicely done,” Archer repeated with a smile. “Though give us some warning next time, eh?”

“Warning?” the half-race rubbed an ear in confusion. “It was you told me to...”

“No I di'n't...” the sciurel contradicted.

“You did!” Feral protested. “We were getting close along the road,” Feral gestured back the way they had come, to which Archer agreed with a nod. “Then Balthor said...”

“That doesn't seem right,” the lupari rumbled, and Feral nodded.

“And then you said 'No, it's not, go get em, Foxy!'”

“...” Archer looked up at him with an expression of genuine bafflement. “I've never called you that in my life.”

“I'm not angry about it...” Feral started, but the sciurel cut him off.

“No, really, Red. I can throw out racial slurs with the best of 'em, but that's a name I've never used for you.”

“Really?”

“Really. 'Sides, it's not abusive when I do say it. See, there was a nice vulpani lass I once knew in Green Bluff who I might maybe 'ave called that a couple of times... right beauty she was, fantastic pair of... eyes,” he finished suddenly, seeming to snap back from a memory.

“Uhuh...” Feral nodded absently, looking around. Besides the defeated men slowly picking themselves up, there was nobody anywhere close to or on the road behind them. “So who...?”

Archer chuckled, patting his elbow – about as high as he could comfortably reach. “Maybe your conscience, mate. Given that you seem to 'ave saved the little lady a roughing up, I don't think it was wrong, neither,” he added. “I ain’t so sure the chief there agrees,” he nodded over his shoulder to the leader of the ex town guards. “But he ain’t dumb enough to give us any more ‘assle. He hasn’t seen anyone else go past, by the way.”

“Oh,” Feral’s face fell a little.

“That doesn’t mean Cassy and Tee aren’t there already,” Balthor said, walking up behind them. “Cassy’s smart, if she saw a patrol, she’d have gone off the road long before it saw her. If she’s even using the roads to start with. If she smelled trouble, I'd put money on her going by night over rough country. Nobody travels in the dark as good as a leonin.”

“Good, let’s quit wasting time and get movin’ then.” Starting off along the road, Archer pulled a tattered parchment map out of one of the many small bags around his belt. “Forks in two miles... east road looks best. Right,” he nodded to himself.

“Archer?” Feral asked a minute or so later.

“Hmm?”

“Do you think we’ll see them again?”

“Sure! Bally's told you already, smart girls, both of them.”

“Actually, I meant...” Feral trailed off, realising the sciurel was looking shrewdly at him.

“Maybe,” he said, one eyebrow twitching. “And yes, if I’m any judge, she were quite a pretty young lass. For a 'uman.”

“That’s not what I meant!” Feral hurried. “I meant that I – I didn’t really say hello, or goodbye, and they probably think I’m rude or stupid or both, and... and...”

“Course you did, mate.” Winking, Archer smiled and stuck his hands in his pockets, whistling jauntily.

Feral sighed and fell silent, deciding it was easier not to try to explain. It was probably just the suddenness of the fight and the manner of the girl that had left him struggling for words. After all, the lutrani had been easy enough to talk to. With luck, he’d get a chance to speak with him and the girl when they arrived in town, make sure they were all right.