Frozenmoon - Chapter 2

“Would Silas be in the Gathering complex?” Nera asked herself, looking around the tunnels inside the rose bush. She reached her hind paws out to step over a fallen thorn, and looked in through the thin walls for him.

“Silas?” she called through the walls, the branches absorbing most of it so that it couldn’t echo. It was almost like the Burrowers’ complex, even if it wasn’t suspended above water for half the year.

She took a look through a gap in the thorny walls and caught sight of the trainee’s dorms, completely empty. Were they out training?

Next must have been the Graduate’s dorms, as satchels without the wear-and-tear of a full adult’s hung from thorn hooks. Then there just had to be normal Gatherers, and then… Where would Silas be? She clutched the leaf scroll that Larx gave her in her claws . He’d probably be in the leaders’ office of course.

She stopped as she saw a familiar brown shape run down a hall, holding a satchel. Fleck? She looked in the doorway to the Graduate’s room. One bed just lay there, suspiciously empty.

He ran with such urgency, looking back after every few steps, that Nera couldn’t help but want to follow him. She looked in her satchel, empty, and then stuffed the leaf into it.

Fleck disappeared around a corner. She took a couple strides closer and noticed that he had actually gone into a room. She didn’t see him come out from the room, so Nera walked towards the doorway.

Inside the room, unclean and covered with thorns, there stood Fleck hanging his satchel on the doorway.

“Fleck?” Nera asked, leaning against a branch that made the doorway.

He whirled and looked at her. “Oh! Nera!” He fumbled awkwardly. He shrugged. “Well, I guess I can tell you…”

Nera looked down. “What is it?” Was he exiled, banished? Worse, was he running away of his own free will? He seemed hopping about in excitement, and Fleck told Nera multiple times about how nothing could happen around Wolf Plains that could change him.

“Well, there haven’t been any council meetings yet…” Fleck trailed off.

“You aren’t exiled are you?”

Fleck’s face hardened, his jaw clenched. “No. At least not me.”

Nera felt her stomach plummet to the ground. “Who?”

Fleck took a moment as he took a moss blanket and laid it on the ground. “The entire Scavenger’s guild.”

Somehow, Nera couldn’t say that she was surprised. She only saw them at council meetings, and she couldn’t thank the scavengers for any resources at the Burrowing complex.

“I just don’t want to tell Archer,” Fleck said, definitely thinking aloud. “He’s still touchy about Edvard.”

“Wonder why?” Nera commented, sarcasm on the edge of her voice.

There was silence for a moment. Nera stood up from her doorway and looked out the hall. “I won’t tell anyone,” she laughed. “The scavengers wouldn’t either.” If she could lighten the mood, just a bit, that could probably help Fleck’s mood.

Fleck narrowed his eyes. “Don’t joke about those things. Something’s wrong with Roz. She looked like she hadn’t slept in days, she was dirty she was-”

“Why’re you so worried?”

Fleck sighed. “Cause if I know, then I can do something.”

Nera looked at him in disgust. He was still bent on killing her, wasn’t he? “To help her, I assume?” Maybe he’d see sense.

“You wouldn’t understand,” Fleck said, putting a paw to his chest.

Nera felt her ears raise. “Why wouldn’t I?”

There was silence. “The only reason that Roz didn’t kill Silas and Ariak was because she didn’t have the blade.”

Nera chuckled grimly. Roz killed Trill, and not in front everyone because she didn’t have her rapier. Fleck had a point.

“She didn’t want a revolution, either.” Fleck sat on his moss blanket, stretching his paws.

Silence again.

She remembered Highwhisker. “I’m sorry about that.”

“I don’t want sympathy.” Fleck held a paw out. Fleck looked back, glaring silently at everything.

There was a reason Fleck was bent on killing Rozalin, no matter how bad a reason it was.

“You’re going mad, Fleck,” Nera breathed.

Fleck didn’t reply for a moment, and then he looked up at Nera. His mouth barely moved, but it was like his brown eyes said the real words. “You’ve got trainers to train.” What his eyes said was ‘You’re right, and I can’t change it.’

Nera turned at the sight of him, and left. She still had to find Silas.

***

“I’m sorry, but I can’t be a captain.” The young mouse looked behind her, fur bristling slightly.

Tulun nodded. “You will. It’s an honoured position.”

The young mouse, Firenne, shrunk in her fur. “I’m not ready, Queen Tulun.”

Tulun still couldn’t get used to being a queen. She only knew how to be her own mouse, governing her own choices. She didn’t know how to make them or… She caught a glance at the surprised yet amused looks of the Frozenmoon mice. 

Indignantly, she stood taller. She was a queen, she’d just have to deal with it. “Firenne, you’re going to be a captain whether you like it or not. Go get your armour and meet me in the royal longhouse.” She pointed to the smallest of them all, but she gave glances at the other, older mice. They had amused smiles on their faces, like Tulun couldn’t possibly be the daughter of Tandrai.

Maybe they were right. After a season of leadership, she only managed eleven new recruits. She’d die before Frozenmoon was as large as Tyranos said it was. And if the younger recruits couldn’t do anything, then maybe older ones could. She could stray from her mother’s recruitment strategies for just a few seasons…

She motioned to Tyranos, keeping from looking at Tyranos’ scarred legs and shoulder. He nodded, getting up slowly. And of course, he still managed to say that he was going somewhere to Trill.

Did he forget that Trill nearly killed them?

She tried not to mind, but when Tyranos cast a glance back at the dark grey mouse, Tulun felt her fur bristling.

She pushed aside a stone, the door to the longhouse. “You coming?” she asked, blue eyes shining.

He nodded, stretching his shoulder carefully. She tried not to keep an eye on the scar, but she couldn’t help but notice it. He could move again, but he was different. Not only in looks, but the way he acted. He acted like an authority, a battle-hardened leader. Not a brother, or even fatherly like when they lived back at Wolf Plains.

“We need more recruits, Tyranos,” she said abruptly.

Tyranos looked at her incredulously. “It’s slow, but…”

“I’m not thinking about how slow it’ll be.” She was thinking about many things, Hoof Spots being one of them. She was thinking about the safety of the army. “Maybe the ring,” she murmured.

Tyranos stood taller. “Frozenmoon is a mouse army.”

“Explain Leurce.” Tulun flicked her head outside the longhouse.

He closed his bright orange eyes. “There’s a difference between a fantastic fighter and a vole.”

“Well, the ring is full of fantastic fighters!” she persisted.

“I can’t let you fight. You wouldn’t stand a chance against them.”

Tulun opened her mouth to argue, and realized that her brother had a point. She stopped, black fur flattening. “I wouldn’t.”

The rock slid open and two creatures stepped in. One was pushed in, while the other followed gently behind. “You weren’t looking for your new captain, were you?” an older squirrel with silver hairs around his muzzle said.

Tulun stood there, eyeing Firenne suspiciously. “Yes, Leurce.”

“Well, I saw her trying to sneak away behind the armour tent.” Leurce looked down at her and sat on the floor.

“I was not!” she said, whining like a hoppe - pup.

Leurce and Tyranos both gave a her a look saying “You promoted this pup?” She was the one who would need it. If she was leader, then the other recruits would get resentful. When Firenne realized that rebellion happened when she had power, then she’d learn how to keep her authority.

Maybe it would’ve worked for Highwhisker. She remembered seeing his body, and cringed.

Tyranos leaned against the branches that made the longhouse, and looked Tulun down with worry and anger. “We won’t be headed to the ring for recruits. Hoof Spots squirrels might be there.”

Tulun opened her mouth to retort but stopped at the look that Leurce and Tyranos gave her. Did she have any real power?

Tyranos sighed and stretched his port shoulder, leaving the doorway.

Leurce didn’t move, but flicked his tufted ears.

Tulun looked around at the longhouse’s wooden framework and then back at the earth-coloured squirrel. He didn’t move. “Come with me, Tulun.” He flicked his ears to behind the longhouse. Then the squirrel stood up and walked from the longhouse.

She sighed. She didn’t really have any power. Following Leurce into the dusty clearing that was the main camp, she looked for the familiar four-legged gait or even the bushy tail.

There it was, trailing behind his body as he ran behind the longhouse.

She cast a glance back at Tyranos, talking with Trill, and stepped along behind him.

She hopped over mushrooms as the forest above them got thick. She began to dodge tree saplings, trunks, and even stumps that never got pulled from the ground. “Leurce?” she asked, keeping her half-tail above the ground.

“Yes?” he called from above… and he was behind her. She whirled to see him perched on a willow tree. “You’re running a bit far there, lass.”

Lass?

“Why?” Tulun looked Leurce straight in his amber eyes.

“Because I only want to tell a…” he paused. “A little secret.” He hopped down the willow, standing in front of Tulun. “I’ll take you to the ring.” He grinned craftily.

Tulun eyed him warily. “I don’t have a chance against them, you heard Tyranos.”

He nodded. “But he’s lying. You’re strong for your size. Not to mention wittier than any of them.” He cocked his brows and held his paws out, motioning for the mouse to grab it. “Well?”

Tulun found herself trusting the wily grin, and took the paw with a shake. Her half-tail lashed. “Where do we meet”

“The old crabapple tree,” he said simply.

Leurce started to back away and look back. “Well, I’ll organize a border patrol. You’ll meet me tomorrow at noon, yes?” He turned and dashed off on all four legs.

Tulun followed slowly. Maybe this would work. If it got recruits, good. But the main thing about it was that the Guards visited it so often, she was bound to see Drea, Kanter, or even Raven. Maybe she’d see her old friends again.

Though her mind started to point out to her that Leurce wouldn’t be fighting, for sure. If anything, she’d be the one fighting for her recruits.

And even if she did survive, she’d probably be so beaten up and tired that she wouldn’t be able to fight for days, maybe even weeks.

But as always, she pushed those thoughts away, hoping never to hear them again.