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Divine: Merchants of the Silent Shore

Chapter VII

The sandy dingo paced back and forth, a nasty snarl torn across his face. He glanced over the cave he was in. People, his people, were in bad shape. Less than half of what he had set out with had come back with him and half of those were injured. They limped and bled, to think that they used to be a mercenary band of reputation.

"What was that? Huh, what then bloody fuck was up with that?" He stopped pacing and glanced at the huddled figure to his right, a rabbit that was desperately trying to appear small and insignificant, but nothing in the world could hide him.

"I- I..." The rabbit tried to speak, but his nerves got the better of him.

"I- I- I- I..." The dingo mocked the rabbit. He stopped pacing and charged to the rabbit, jabbing a finger in his face. "Yes, you. YOU! You!" He was screaming loud enough that everyone in the cave could hear him, but they kept on working. It was best to not get in the way when boss was like this.

Somehow the screaming helped and the rabbit managed to form a complete sentence. "There was no way of knowing! I couldn't have known it was going to go this way!" He sobbed, practically begging for his life now.

"No way of knowing?" The dingo scoffed. "It's not everyday that the Symphony of fucking Blades goes on a stroll through the woods and murders us all." He slapped the rabbit with the back of his gloved paw. "You should know these things. I mean, how else do you expect us to do our fucking job?"

"He was supposed to be in the Guild States," The rabbit tried to explain. He knew he fucked up, but he was too afraid to own up. Maybe if he shoved the blame somewhere else. "The manifesto-"

"Are you telling me..." The dingo cut him off with a hand. "You telling me that you assumed? That you just thought that it's okay to just guess?" He looked straight in the rabbit's eyes.

Avoiding eye contact, back against the wall with only his life to lose, the rabbit still stuck to his finagling. "The manifesto... He was due to stay out and wait for the caravan at the border."

"Did it ever occur to you that sometimes a piece of paper might be wrong?" The conversation was getting know where, but the dingo just needed to vent. "That the DEFENSE, The Fucking DEFENSE MINISTER of the GUILD STATES might think it a good idea to meet half way! DID YOU ever stop and think that oh, he might go somewhere?"

No words came from the rabbit. He was too focused on the fact that he had both pissed and shit himself.

The dingo's nose caught the scent and he calmly took a step back and into a breeze that came in from the cave opening. He contemplated what to do. Yelling more and causing the rabbit to soil himself wasn't going to bring back his men. It was absolutely pointless and as much as he wanted to kill the rabbit, he had a code. Don't harm the employer. He had a reputation, whatever was left of it, to uphold.

"You go back to whatever shitfest of a rebellion you represent and you tell Edwin Kelm that the next time he wants to business, he came come here and SUCK MY COCK!" He screamed the last bit at the top of his lungs and pointed at the exit to the cave. "Now get out before I cut you up and leave you for the wild life!"

The rabbit didn't need to be told twice. He bolted from his spot on the wall, holding his rear and awkwardly ran out. Everyone could smell what he did.

The dingo rubbed his forehead. He had a pounding headache and it just wasn't going away. "Fucking bloody mess. Never going to recover from this one," He mumbled under his breath and stalked over to the back where barrels of drink were. He went for water, the mead and whiskey was for celebrating. Nothing to celebrate today.

He tried to figure out where it went all wrong. He had done jobs for the rebels, or Heretics as the Church calls them, before and they usually had good intel. Edwin Kelm was no slouch when it came to making sure the deal was as solid as coins he paid them with. In reality it was no ones fault. The rabbit was right. The Symphony of Blades should have been back in the Guild States, but for some reason he had to appear right in the middle of one of the biggest jobs.

It was supposed to be simple. Ambush and kill the Messenger. In and out no problem. Not as hard as being hired to storm the walls of a fortress. No. Everything had gone swimmingly and then it just went to shit in the blink of an eye.

"Raining swords. Stupid shit." The dingo drank down a cup of water before filling back from the barrel. "How're we supposed to deal with that." He kept muttering to himself until a lynx walked up to him.

"Hey, Boss." The Lynx waved and stopped a few feet in front of the mercenary leader. "What do you want us to do with the pup Freenan picked up?"

The dingo groaned. He had forgotten that his mindless second in command had panicked and kid napped a child. "What kind of military caravan had children in it?" He asked no one in particular.

"Uhm... Sorry, Boss. I didn't catch that." The Lynx tilted his head and pointed his ears to hear better.

"Nothing, Toby," the dingo waved the question off. "The pup, right? He still in the back lot?" He asked, referring to a small nook at the far right edge of the cave where the horses were normally kept.

"Yeah," Toby said and pointed in its general direction. "Got two guys watching him now."

"Where's Freenan now?" He asked. He hadn't seen the leopard in a while and wanted to slap him around a bit for being so dumb. It would help lighten his mood since Freenan was just the kind of guy who had a slappable face.

"No ones seen him." Toby mashed his paws together in front of him. No one had wanted to tell Boss the news since the two were best buds. Toby was just unlucky enough to draw the short straw. "He handed the pup off not long after the Minister showed up. He just kind of vanished after that."

The dingo kept quiet. He didn't show any emotion, though he was breaking down on the inside. No matter how bad things had gotten bad before, and it had been worse before, Freenan always kept an upbeat attitude. The dingo could always rely on him for moral support. Hearing that he was gone and the dingo wasn't going to lie to himself, most likely dead, was the last rock to fall to start a land slide.

Toby flinched when the dingo's ear twitched.

"Take me to the pup," The dingo finally said. There was a time for mourning. It wasn't now.

There he was, small, wide eyed and terrified. The small wolf huddled against the wall, knees up to his chest and ears folded back. The dingo pitied him. War got to everyone and he understood now more than ever.

The dingo, too tired to be anything but himself, knelt down and looked at the pup. He got a low growl in response.

"Settle down." The dingo said casually. "You'll dry your throat out doing that and before you know it, you'll be hacking away and spitting up phlem. I don't need that."

The small wolf stopped. Petrus was beyond terrified. He wanted his dad. He wanted Marty. He even wanted Felix. Anyone that he knew. Anyone was better than these strangers who had taken him from his hiding spot in one of the carriages.

It was a leopard that had spotted him and with a devilish grin, had torn open the carriage door and pulled him out by his scruff. He could still feel the ghosts of those claws digging into his skin. Now he was here.

"You thirsty?" The dingo asked and held out the cup of water he had.

Petrus looked at the cup. He was beyond thirsty but he didn't trust the dingo one bit. He made on move to take the cup.

The dingo saw the eyes on the water and set down the cup. "Well it's here when you want it. Now why don't you tell me your name?"

Petrus growled a bit at the dingo. He wasn't going to say anything and the dingo seemed to get the message.

He got up and dusted his trousers off. He didn't need anything from the pup now. He wasn't even sure what he was going to do with him. The whole operation was too screwed to try and recoup with a ransom. No. He figured that he would cut the pup loose in the end, but first he needed to take care of business.

He left the the pup and went back into the mains space of the cave where those that could, were loading up carts with supplies.

When they had limped back home, the dingo had given the order to start packing up. There was no doubt in his mind that they were being hunted right now. He hoped to be ready to move out in an hour, but with scarcely a quarter of his original group able to lift and work, it was going to take at least three. He didn't think that he had three. A lot was going to have to be left behind.

"Only if you could see this mess, Freenan," The dingo sighed. "Would crack some inappropriate joke that would make no sense. I'd still laugh." He couldn't get that stupid cat out of his head. He needed to focus and work to save what he could.

He began to sort out everything, picking what to take and what to leave behind. They didn't need so many weapons anymore, so half of the armory was going to be left behind. The gold was all coming and the food was as well. He wasn't planning on stopping until they were out of Church lands.

Outside however, it was too late.

"They have my son in there?" Vargus grabbed the rabbit a few soldiers had caught leaving the cave. He ignored the horrid odor around the rabbit and shook him. "Do they have my son?"

"I- I don't know," He whimpered, acutely aware that he may shit himself again.

"Did you see a small cub that looks a bit like me?" He kept shaking the rabbit and had to be stopped.

"I don't think that's going to help." The Defense Minister put a hand on Vargus' shoulder. "You'll break his neck if you keep shaking him that hard."

Vargus didn't care. All he could think of is how terrified his some must be. He was too young to experience anything like this. Probably scarred for life now and it was his fault. He never should have let him come. It was that damn cat, Felix. He had convinced his son. No good bandit should have been hanged. Now all he does is behind behind Marty's shadow.

"I'm just the middle man," The rabbit squeaked. "I didn't take your son. I don't do that sort of thing."

"Middle man?" The Defense Minister raised and eyebrow. He looked over to Vargus and then back at the rabbit. "Explain."

The rabbit spilled his guts. Best to just let it all out, he figured. "I'm just here to give confirmation the job is done so the payment goes through. The people down there are mercenaries. They were hired to kill the Messenger. I'm just a middleman. Someone has to do the job. Right?" He looked hopefully at all the faces around him. "Right?"

"Kill the messenger?" Some one said near the back.

"Sounds like a heretic," Another said and there was a few nods.

"What?" The blood drained from his face. He had said too much. Way to much. "I'm not a heretic. No." He shook his head.

Vargus looked over at the soldiers and nodded.

"Please. Wait." The rabbit begged when two sets of hands grabbed him from under his arms and lifted him up. "No. I can expl-"

A wad of cloth was shoved into his mouth and then a piece of yarn was tied around his head, going across his mouth so he couldn't spit it out.

The rabbit shrieked, but it was muffled.

"Heretics hang." Vargus said and the soldiers said it after him.

"Heretics hang. Heretics hang." They said over and over while a noose was made and draped over the rabbit's neck.

The rabbit tried to speak, but only a garbled mess came from his mouth. He struggled against the hands on his arms to no avail.

The other end of the rope was thrown over a tree branch and held tight.

"Isn't this a bit much?" The Minister asked, but made no effort to stop what he was witnessing. These were Church lands and these were their rules.

"Can't be lenient with heretics," Vargus explained. "If you are, then more like Edwin Kelm will spring up."

The Minister watched as the largest soldier came forward. He was a big ox and spit into his hands before grabbing the free end of the rope.

The rabbit never stopped crying and trying to beg for leniency. No one was listening.

"Heretics hang," The ox said before giving a grunt and heaving down on the rope.

The noose tightened around the rabbit's neck and his eyes bulged out as he pulled up and off his feet. The rabbit kicked and made strange noises.

The ox pulled the rabbit up high, nearly to the point where the long ears touched the branch before he began to tie off the rope around a lower branch.

The rabbit grasped desperately at his neck as the life was strangled out of him. He couldn't do anything and terror took him. He tried to scream. They were still close to the cave. But he was gagged. He felt all the blood trapped in his face, bloating his eyes out and making his skin red. The he felt a tugging at his legs.

A soldier jumped up and grabbed the rabbit's trousers. It was tied at the waste so it didn't budge at first so the soldier hung for a second before the lacing came undone. The trousers fell and it's unsightly contents with them.

"Oh, sick!" The soldier laughed and rolled out of the way of the falling poop. "He shit himself."

The other soldiers pointed and laughed as the rabbit continued to strangle with his pants around his ankles.

The Minister had to look away and made sure that they weren't discovered. He felt sick in his stomach.

The laughing died down once the rabbit had expired. No one bothered to cut down the limp body.

"Let's go find these bastards and get my son back." Vargus patted the Minister on the back.

Back in the cave, nearly all the preparation was done. The dingo was happy with how fast it was going. The sense of urgency had hit everyone and in less than two hours, there were just a few crates left. The full carts were hooked up to horses and were waiting at the mouth of the cave.

"How's the pup?" The dingo asked the guard at opening to the lot. He had told the other to go ahead and help with the loading. The pup didn't need more than one individual looking after him.

"He drank the water," The otter replied.

"Good," The dingo nodded. "When we leave. We leave him behind. He'll figure out that we're gone soon enough and I'm confident he'll be found or find someone?"

"Not taking him with us?" The otter asked. "Bet he'd get us something for ransom."

The dingo shook his head. "Kid napping is a dirty affair. Get's personal quick. No, we leave him behind."

The otter nodded. He understood. If something were to happen to his own family that was waiting for him back home, he'd make it personal.

The dingo didn't go in to see the pup. No need and no time. He went back to the opening of the cave to help with the last few crates when...

"They're here!" A sentry cried out. The skink was running down a hill and jumped across a small creek. He was waving his arms at everyone as he got closer. "Just over the- Hurk."

An arrow pierce right through his throat.

The skink fell over and was spasming. He clutched his throws as blood pooled out from his mouth.

"Shit," The dingo muttered under his breath and then yelled out to his men. "Get the wounded out of here." He pointed at the four carts that were filled with wounded laying on beds of hay.

Arrows began to rain down around them. Some hit their targets. Some did not.

A porcupine began to climb up a cart, but a crossbow bolt struck him in the chest. He screamed out and fell onto the ground. Another, a dog with chocolate fur ran past the fallen porcupine who cried out for help. The dog got onto the cart and snapped the reins. The horse sighed and began to trot off with the wounded.

Another cart began to go as well, but a stray arrow, or not, hit the horse square in the head. It fell over, tipping the cart and then wounded inside of it.

That was just in the first thirty seconds. After the initial few volleys of arrows, there was roar from up the hill where the sentry had come running down from. Several dozen soldier streamed down the hill.

The mercenaries fired off their own arrows and downed a few, but they were quickly picked off.

"Get the wounded out of here!" The dingo yelled. "The rest, keep those soldiers off of the carts."

A great melee ensued and it was not pretty. It wasn't at all like the books and story tales. No, it was less hacking and more punching.

A coyote got a pair of claws in his eyes, gouging them out. He howled and sliced the attacked with his knife, getting a bit of nose.

A lion drew his sword and charged into battle. He brought his blade down onto a shield hard enough to knock the blade out of his hands. He then pounced, slapping the shield aside and digging his fangs into the neck of the bear. Arterial blood sprayed everywhere.

The dingo saw that they were getting slaughtered. He needed to save his people and he could only think of one way to do it.

He turned and ran back towards the cave as another wagon fell over. The horse had panicked and pulled the cart into the stream where it slipped on a rock and broke its leg.

The guard was gone, having joined the fray. The dingo ran into the lot and the young wolf was still there.

Petrus scurried back farther and farther against the wall when the dingo hand come right for him. He growled and tried to bite the hand that grabbed him, but he quickly went silent when a knife was drawn and out to his throat.

"I don't want to," The dingo said to the pup. "I really don't." He took pup with him outside where the fighting was still going on.

The fourth cart wasn't there, having escaped. The wounded of the two turned carts were being dragged out and lined up. The dingo's men were staring to surrender, throwing their swords to the ground and raising their hands up.

"Stop!" The dingo yelled and all eyes were on him. "Stop the killing." He held the knife to the pup's throat.

"Petrus!" One of the Church soldiers came forward, a bloody sword in his hand.

The dingo could tell right away that the soldier was the pups father or brother, definitely related since they looked almost identical. "He yours?"

"Yes," Vargus nodded. "Don't hurt him."

"I don't plan on it," The dingo said and knelt down, planting the pup's feet on the ground and letting him go. The dingo whispered into the pup's ear. "Go to him."

Petrus gave the dingo a quizzical look, but a gentle push got him running to his dad who scooped him up with one arm. Petrus buried his muzzle into his dad's neck fur. "Dad. Dad. I-" He choked up and began to sob.

"Shh." Vargus held onto his son tight and then looked at the dingo.

"See, I gave him back. I didn't want it to be personal. We have wounded and we're not willing to fight anymore. Just let us go, yeah?" The dingo gave a soft smile.

"Personal?" Vargus asked. "You shouldn't have taken my son. You shouldn't have held a knife to him."

The dingo's ears dropped and his tail dropped. "Wait! The wounded. We're unarmed." He threw his knife to the side. His men had already been disarmed.

The Minister was there, watching. He would have said something, but he recognized that he wasn't in charge and that the soldiers of the Church had their own way of doing justice.

"Wait!"

Vargus turned and held his son's head to his chest. He covered his ears and eyes as he walked away. He didn't want his son to see or hear what was about to happen.

"Wait. No. RUN! Everyone ru-"