Lord Barthomell: Chapter 11

11

Buckeye lay on a stretcher in the infirmary after a failed assassination attempt by Fillust.
“Easy there ol’ chap we’ll get this arrer out o’ ya in no time. Ooh it’s a doozy. Steady on ol’ lad there what?” said Fetromn as he tried to pry the arrowhead out of Buckeye’s shoulder.
Floram the hare that had killed Gujak in the first battle lay in the bed next to Buckeye. “So Buck ye nearly get yerself killed by that black stoat?”
“Yep that’s about what ‘append Floram.”
Martelf stepped into the infirmary carrying a tray with food and drink on it for Floram and Buckeye. “Alright mates tuck in this cake and cordial but first you gotta take this physic or no tucker.”
A groan arose from the otter and hare’s mouths. “Physic, cant we just ‘ave the food arrgh watch it Fetromn.”
“Well I can’t get the arrow unless I use the pliers right. There got it!”
“Aaaagh. Damn that hurts. Give me the physic Martelf quick quick quick.”
“There ya go Buck,” said the mouse handing the cup to Buckeye.
Buckeye drained the beaker with one gulp and pulled a disgusted face at Martelf. “What d’ ya put in this thing mate?”
“Secret recipe can’t tell ya.”

Luke and Arthur had been caught making plans when Fillust’s horde returned and they were dragged to the paws of the black stoat.
“So my slaves have been making plans behind my back have they?”
The two creatures kneeled without making a sound. The stoat rose swiftly drawing his scimitar and slapped both of them with the flat of the blade. “Well have you, answer me dammit.” Luke Rose to his paws and roared back into Fillust’s snout.
“Well don’t you have the nerve? Why don’t you back up your words with a sword and fight me while I don’t have these shackles on!”
The assassin was taken back by the mouse’s outburst and was at a loss for words, no one had ever roared at Fillust and he did not think anyone ever would.
Zerventsa a buccaneer captain stepped into Fillust’s tent “This isn’t a bad time is it?” she said.
“No come into my tent. Guards get these two idiots out of my sight and fetch me and Zerventsa some wine quickly. Well tell me where has my little pirate been lately?”
“On the high seas searching for something.”
“What, what were you searching for.”
Her voice dropped to a whisper as though it were some secret no one could know. “I’ve been searching for the Blood of the Seas.”
A rare smile crossed Fillust’s face. “Well what have you found so far?”
“A map which led me to a reef that I ran aground on and found this. She produced a stone tablet which read,

To find the seven bloods search to my rhyme,
Seek where the sun dies and where its blood doth run,
Where the mountain stands as though a spear in the orb’s breast,
Stand on a THORN to the STEW,
Be like the tree for it stands as thee,
Like the geese do in the MSUMRE,
On sea past the sun where it sinks in hASTE,
Over the depths to the place where the CEMI live,
Down the side to the THORN again,
Where the seas turn to mountains,
And where the mountains do the same,
See the sentinel rise in flame.

Bart and Francis immediately drew their cutlasses as the crows descended upon them and struck their battle ready positions a crow dived at Francis’ back and Bart struck it down.
“What the hell are crows doin’ this close to the sea?” roared Arab over the din of battle.
“Do you think we know?” replied Grayfin. “Agh,” he screamed as a crow raked down his back.
Bart leapt at the crow with his cutlass and cut its left wing off as it tried to fly away. Suddenly a hail of arrows peppered into a group of squirrels. Anguished screams rent the sky as ten of the squirrels fell with arrows in their body.
“Where the hell’d those things come from?” cried Francis
“There,” said Ivy pointing to a dune where the Reptilian Resistance Force was positioned.
“They followed us?” said Francis, shocked.
“I guess so,” replied Bart. “Gundshaw get your squirrels and attack the toads and lizards, me, Francis, Arab, Ivy, and Grayfin will handle these crows and meet up with you on that dune.”
“Alright. Gundshaaaaaaaw.” The squirrel tribe thundered of into the dunes.
“Now for these birds.”
Bart and Francis fought back to back striking down every crow within reaching distance of their blades. The crows were soon decimated and only one lived he was quickly surrounded by the warriors.
“Pleeze spare myykk life.”
“How about we see if you can out fly my blade,” said Bart with a grim look on his face. The crow took off with all the speed he could muster. Bart drew back his paw and hurled the silver cutlass, it sped through the air and imbedded itself in the crow’s left wing and the mass of feathers spiraled down to earth.