Prone To Wander (rough draft)

Chapter Eleven

Ruben swelled with anger, but quickly exhaled and sunk sulkily into the paw that gripped him. The fire in eyes dimmed, “I know you're right, I wasn't thinking,” he confessed, though almost bitterly, “But if we don't fight, how do we free them?”

Quinn set the squirrel back on the tree branch and looked down at the band of villains, and their captives. “For now we need to keep watching,” he said, “From what we heard before, this isn't the place they're traveling to. There are more of them, like some kind of colony, and they have “The Hunter”... whatever that is.”

“Wouldn't it be better to take them on now, before they get to the colony?” Ruben asked.

Malaki climbed down from Quinn's shoulders as they talked, and stared down longing at his family. Tears rolled silently down his face, until he felt a paw wrap around him, and Kelly's nose began nuzzling his neck and shoulders. Cavan tussled his ears and asked, “If I chewed on you again, would it make you smile?” And Malaki couldn't help but smile.

Ruben watched as the kits comforted his nephew. He sighed, and turned back to Quinn, “Alright brother,” he said, “I'll leave it up to you. You say we should follow them?”

“Yes,” Quinn replied, “We don't know how close we are, they could call in reinforcements and we wouldn't know what to expect. Besides, if all we do is stop this group, they might keep taking captives, in which case none of you will be safe for long.”

“That's a good point,” Ruben admitted.

“Maybe we can work on weapons too,” Quinn said, “We could get you more stuff to make a better bow and more arrows. I think I'll have to settle for teeth and claws, the sling isn't a great weapon in a close fight. Especially with such small beasts.”

“What if we could make a bow and arrows for you?” Ruben asked, “If Cavan still has enough of that cording, it might work as a bowstring.”

“I would love to learn how to do that, but I've never even held a bow. I need something I'm familiar with,” said Quinn.

“Uncles,” Kelly interrupted, “They're all moving again.”

Quinn took the lead, and cautiously followed every move the enemies, and captives, made. It wasn't long before they pushed their way through a thick wall of brush and into a wide clearing. Quinn climbed to a lower branch and went out as far as he could, to try and see what was happening. He could see a number of ermines, all rushing about, and he could see a sort of cage. It was made from thin branches, woven together and laced with thick thorny vines. He watched as the captives were forced into the cage, the door was shut behind them, and several of the enemy were ordered to stand guard.

He was close enough to hear talking, and heard a voice very clearly say, “Please, won't you tell any of us what's happening?” It was a squirrel, it was Jacob.

One of the guards approached the cage, where the squirrel's paws, still bound, clung to a large thorn on the green vine. “You'll find out soon enough,” the ermine sneered. The next moment he let out a scream and stumbled away from the squirrel.

Another guard came, reached a stout staff through the cage and beat Jacob back from the vines. He then turned to his companion, who was writhing on the ground, the thorn was stuck deep into his neck. There was quite a commotion at this event. There were other weasels who came, removed the thorn and tended the wound, but there was already a pool of blood, and all efforts were in vain. The creature didn't rise again.

“Quite the fighter, this Jacob is,” Quinn said over his shoulder.

“Why?” Ruben asked “What's happening?”

“They put him in a cage, with his paws tied, and he still managed to kill one the weasels,” Quinn answered.

The raccoon saw more movement and turned to watch as the dead ermine began to be hauled away by several others. They were stopped by another of their kind who wore a belt with a strap over each shoulder, and a knife, fashioned from a large tooth, hung on one hip. “Where are you going?” he demanded.

“To The Hunter,” was the reply.

“To feed the monster one our own? Are you mad?” the other growled, “Take that fool well out of camp, and then hurry back... if you want to feed The Hunter you can throw it the squirrel who caused the trouble.”

Ruben had climbed onto the branch ahead of Quinn, and heard the order for himself. His heart stopped. He looked back and saw Malaki in higher branches with the kits, watching with anticipation. How could he tell his nephew, that his father was about to die?

“Quinn,” Ruben said quietly, “I'm sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” Quinn asked, still watching the enemy.

“It seems I'm a hypocrite, I can't keep my own word,” with that he took leap almost straight down. Quinn tried to catch him again, but he landed, just inside the clearing.

The raccoon stared wide eyed, wondering what he should do. Ruben hadn't been seen, but if Quinn dropped into the clearing, they would both be spotted. There were near a hundred of the weasels that he could see, and somewhere unseen, was another creature “to do their bidding”. Something that they themselves called a monster. Despite it all, Quinn would've jumped in after the squirrel, if he hadn't heard Malaki yelling.

“Uncle Ruben, no!” the pup called, as he raced down the branch, but Quinn caught him as he came.

“I don't need you throwing yourself in harms way too,” the raccoon said, and went and placed him in Cavan's paws. “Don't let him go,” Quinn ordered his nephew, and scrambled down the tree. He didn't run into the clearing, but back into the forest.

~*~

Meanwhile in the shadowed outskirts of the clearing, Ruben removed his bow from across his shoulder, took his stance, and launched an arrow. It seemed to hiss angrily, until it struck it's target. One of the guards fell to the ground, dead. The ermine who had been giving orders, stared in bewilderment. There was another of his underlings, killed right in front of him, with an arrow sticking straight through one eye.

“Ruben!” Jacob gasped at the sight.

Another arrow hissed through the air and another guard fell dead. Then Ruben walked calmly into the open. The remaining guards reached for what weapons they had and readied for a fight, but the squirrel threw his makeshift bow to the ground.

“I'm out of arrows,” he said casually, “And I won't fight.”

“Ruben, what are doing?” Jacob yelled, “Run before they grab you!”

Ruben turned to his brother with a smile, though his eyes filled with tears, “Don't worry,” he said, “Help is coming, and Malaki is safe.” He then drew a deep breath and turned to the ermine before him, “If you don't mind, I'll take my brother's punishment,” he said, and held out his paws to be tied.

“That can be arranged,” the enemy replied, looking on the squirrel with a surprising lack of hostility.

Three more of the weasels were called on, they bound Ruben's fore paws, and began leading him away. Jacob watched in disbelief. The brother who he thought was dead, was suddenly alive and well before him, but only for a moment. Now Ruben was to be killed in his place. He had no words, only tears, as they lead Ruben through a break in the clearing, and towards his death.

The tensions seemed to settle for the enemy, and the ermines returned to their work. The one who had been giving orders was watching as the strange squirrel was taken away. Suddenly there was a sound like a strong wind. He felt a gust, so strong is made him stagger, as something flew past him. Another guard fell, this time it was a great river stone that had smashed the weasel's skull. There was no time to sit and wonder what had happened, as stone after stone came crashing into the clearing.

Jacob jumped back, turned to the other captives and yelled, “Get to the furthest corner, and stay down!”

The stones seemed to rain down from the heavens, sending the enemy fleeing for cover. Ruben heard the scrambling of feet, the pelting of the stones, and the desperate cries for order. He couldn't help smiling.

“I did say help was coming, didn't I?” he jeered at the ermine who held his bonds.

“Quite right,” the creature replied, “But it's a little late for you.” With that, he pulled the squirrel forward, swung halfway around and dropped him into a deep pit.