Stoneslide - Chapter 9

“Is anybody here?” Fleck jumped at the sight of Edvard looking through the doorway. A much younger looking Edvard.

The brown mouse stood up straight, but before he could say anything, Silas stepped in through the red-brown thorns. “Thanks, and yes, I’m here.” Silas and Fleck met glances. “Why’re you here?”

The blond mouse didn’t answer. He just held his grass strings in his paws, and just tapped his paws impatiently. He opened his mouth and then shut it, as if he was considering what to say.

Silas shrugged, and without another glance at the trainee, who must be a tailor, blinked at Fleck. “C’mere, lad.”

Fleck couldn’t help but lower his ears towards the Gathering leader. “Yes?” He paused for a second, then raised his ears. “What do you want me to do? Who with?” He was beginning to smile. Finally, his first job as a full Gatherer!

Silas chuckled and Fleck’s face fell. “None of that yet, Fleck. Though the strawberry patches right out of the city are nearly ripe…” Silas paused, taking out a fresh rolled petal from his satchel. The charcoal marks were clearly visible through the wild rose petal. “Highwhisker wanted me to pick a new trainer already, and I don’t think that…” he stopped. “Just take this to Highwhisker.” He took Fleck’s paw and pushed the scroll in. “And whatever you do, don’t look at it.” Silas gave him a serious glare with his black eyes. “Understood?”

Fleck nodded with a sigh. So delivering scrolls is what it meant to be an adult? A messenger. “Got it, Silas.” He was tempted to say his thoughts aloud, but by the way Silas’ dark auburn fur was bristled, he didn’t look in the mood.

“So,” the trainee finally said, “Should I just leave these here? We-We’ve got plenty back at the bale.” His hind paws dug into the packed soil. It looked like the mouse had all the grass strings in the entire city in his paws.

Silas spoke exactly what was on Fleck’s mind. “Why didn’t you get a messenger mouse?”

The Edvard lookalike dodged the question. “Should I just leave them here or not?”

Fleck opened his mouth to persist but stopped with a hopeful glance from the trainee. Fleck wouldn’t have wanted to tell Hazelwood that he couldn’t drop something off. “Yeah, just leave ‘em here.” Fleck said, giving a sympathetic smile. Silas would probably put him in deep scat for interrupting a conversation.

The mouse nodded, and stepped towards the centre of the room. “Name’s Archer,” he said, flashing a grateful glance at Fleck. “Night, Fleck.”

Fleck nodded turned away as Archer ran out of the doorway, crunching dried petals with each step. Good thing they weren’t any petals that had uses for a Healer. Silas would’ve given that mouse a good telling off.

“Now you go and give that to Highwhisker.” Silas looked onto a thorn hook, where Fleck’s cloth satchel hung. Silas grabbed it and tossed it to Fleck. “You know never to take it off.” That was the first lesson that any Gatherer mouse was taught.

“I know, Silas.” It was getting heavy when he took it off, though.

“Never mind. The message is urgent, and I won’t let some Messenger take it over to him. He should be in the Courtroom. Or as he calls it-”

“The Court Burrow. Got it.” Fleck finished the sentence and put the petal in his satchel quickly and started walking out the wildrose bush, taking care not to step on any fallen thorns. He went straight out along the house’s outer walls. It was made of pure white pebbles, with blue glass speckled among it. It looked oddly inviting, like it was calling Fleck to climb it.

Fleck took a glance behind him to see if Silas was looking. He wasn’t, so Fleck scrabbled right up onto the piece of wood raising the house up and put his paws to the stone. They were wet, but maybe he could use the same balancing techniques that Tulun showed him on the ground on the wall. He lifted his hind paw, grabbing a grip around the wet stone, and with a grunt, pushed him up onto another stone. His satchel swung dangerously by his side.

He was nearly a foot above the baseboard, when his fore paw slipped. He dangled there, with only his port side holding onto the wall. With a heave, he grabbed right back onto the slick stones, but clung harder. His satchel once more whacked at his side, reminding him that he shouldn’t be goofing around.

Hazelwood could have easily taught the trainees how to climb the wall, he thought as he grabbed onto a stone just a bit below him. Above him, he could see tiny strands of ivy crawling down the wall. Maybe then the guild could grab more things.

He remembered the battle position that Tulun showed him. Spreading out both legs further from one another, he grabbed another stone, and went down further. Finally, he was in reach of the wood.

A pebble fell down, bouncing up and down the pebbles. It narrowly missed Fleck’s head. Fleck jumped down and searched out, but nothing was visible, or audible, not even a magpie. He turned and walked towards the Court Burrow quickly, trying to avoid the mud so he didn’t make any sound.

Maybe it was just a squirrel, he thought as he looked straight into the darkness of the Court Burrow. The storm had finally began to subside, letting dim shafts of moonlight filter in. It only made the Court Burrow look even more forbidding.

Maybe Highwhisker wasn’t even back yet. He took a tentative step into the Court Burrow. There wasn’t a glow from the other side of the pane of glass, as there usually was on a Spring night. “Sir Highwhisker?” he asked, “Are you- Are you in here?”

For comfort, Fleck reached into his satchel and clutched the petal. He was on here on a mission. He shouldn’t be afraid. “Maybe the races went a while,” he murmured, taking a step onto a wood block on the semicircle. He stumbled as he hit another one too early, but didn’t fall down the stairs. He should just bring these to his desk up there. That could work.

Something stepped on a dry leaf.

“Highwhisker?”

No reply. Though there was a silhouette in the entrance of the Court Burrow, the moonlight making the figure even more frightening. It began to move towards him, its tail twitching. Fleck backed away, taking a large step up another stair. Three more before he was at the top, where he… he’d be trapped. Fleck shut his eyes tightly and opened them. The silhouette was gone, lost in the shadows. Fleck sighed. It must have been his own shadow. “I’ll just leave this here then,” he whispered under his breath. He pulled the soft pink petal from his satchel and tossed it to the top table. The moonlight illuminated the petal dimly, just showing that it landed soundly.

Fleck turned around and started walking down the stairs.

Something else took a step in the dirt. Fleck stiffened immediately, but forced himself to take another step. He was seeing things. But still, he kept his ears up. Once more, there was another pawstep. Now it was real. His brown eyes scanned the court Burrow, but he pretended he didn’t hear anything. It wasn’t working. Fleck could hear his heart thumping in his chest.

A shadow knocked him to the ground from the staircase step. He rolled over on the ground, trying to keep a clear head. Someone put a paw on his stomach. He couldn’t see anything behind the semicircle. All he saw were eyes black as the night surrounding them. Fleck fought for breath as the foot pressed harder onto his chest.

“Ah, you little rogue,” the voice chuckled. He couldn’t recognize the voice, hoarse with laughter, for the life of him. Fleck’s eyes widened as he realized that this could very well be the end. “I knew that you’d grow. I told Juniper that, didn’t I?”

A spear made from a twig fell next to him, right in front of Fleck’s face. He stood still, paralysed with fear. The twig-spear lifted higher, and Fleck managed to roll away so that the spear didn’t get him. It drove into the dirt right where his back used to be. Fleck already began to put his forepaws beneath him. He could get up, he knew he could. The spear lifted from the dirt, and Fleck jumped to the side from the ground, as the spear stabbed down again. Fleck jumped onto his knees, just as the mouse walked closer. Lit by moonlight, the sandy brown fur on his back was easily recognizable. Fleck reached a paw down and clawed dirt up, unsure who he was hitting.

“Agh!” it shouted. The twig spear dropped silently, the wood absorbing the sound.

The brown mouse kicked out, sending Fleck onto the ground with a jolt of pain. “Gotchya,” the voice said, and Fleck recognized the voice.

“Holy- Hazelwood?” Fleck kicked away immediately, wriggling away from the reach of the mouse.

“Yes. But nobody will ever know,” he said. His trainer raised the spear, gripping it tightly. It plummeted down, but missed.

Fleck looked at the spear and knew what to do. Remembering Tulun’s training, he reached for the spear and pulled it towards him. He rolled over and jolted to his legs. Adrenaline coursed through him, but he ignored the thudding of blood in his ears.

One step. He jumped and looked back, but there was no shape again. Hazelwood had hidden. With the spear in his hands, Fleck might’ve had the opportunity to run, but something held him back. He should run, right for the complex, but he stood rooted to the wooden blocks.

The shape of Hazelwood was visible again. He then ran to Fleck, pushing him into a wall. Hazelwood’s paw was firmly on the young mouse’s chest. He felt himself being lifted off the ground.

Finally, Fleck mustered enough courage to speak. “Let me go!” he growled, but it came out more like a terrified squeak. Maybe it was.

Hazelwood didn’t respond. With one other paw, he lazily opened the petal, an amused look on his face.

Hazelwood didn’t respond. The spear inched out of Fleck’s paws, pulled away by the other mouse. It dropped on the table with a tap. There was silence for a few moments, and in the darkness, Fleck couldn’t see what Hazelwood was doing, but he could still feel the sharp claws gripping him tightly by the paws, lifting him into the air painfully.

“Ha. I was expecting somebody more. I was thinking maybe somebody actually-”

Something lifted off a rack, but once more, nothing was visible. Hazelwood turned back, ears straight in the air. “Speak up, before I kill you too,” he growled, losing the amused, crazy air immediately. The spear was lifted into the air from the wood block table, prepared to throw.

Fleck met a pair of Icy blue eyes, and relief began to seep into him. “Let him go, Morlyle. Or I will kill you right here and now.”

The moonlight illuminated the spear Highwhisker always had mounted on a shelf.

Hazelwood swung around, but his grasp only slipped from Fleck’s paws. He fell to the ground, but stood up just before Hazelwood drove his spear down angrily. Fleck took ragged breaths, he stood right next to Highwhisker. The leader’s eyes flickered to Fleck, but he didn’t motion or anything. “Just get behind me. Now.” The white patch of fur on Hazelwood’s chest glowed in the moonlight.

Fleck did as he was told, but kept his eyes straight on Hazelwood, barely visible at the top of the staircase.

“Now, Hazelwood. Drop. The. Spear.”

The sound of a spear tapping hit Fleck’s ears. “Whatever you say.” His eyes began to adjust fully, and Fleck could see Hazelwood’s brow cocked.

He smiled. “Sir Highfeather.” The twig whipped in the air, and before Fleck could say anything, it was hurled across the room. Hazelwood stood silent as the spear whipped by Highwhisker’s side, and he cried out in pain. The blood drained from Fleck’s face as Highwhisker tried to keep his balance, putting a paw on his side.

“The phony king of Wolf Plains,” Hazelwood snarled. He took slow steps down the stares, and Fleck could only give a hate-filled stare. His knees weakened as Hazelwood stepped close, and whispered in his ear. “You’re lucky I didn’t finish you off before.” The words chilled his blood, but Fleck refused to show it. He stood there still, only looking at Highwhisker as Hazelwood strode out of the court burrow.

“Ha,” Highwhisker growled. “Serica and Raven should have him.” Highwhisker gazed at Fleck, smiling. “Thank the Great Hawk you’re alive.” Highwhisker’s paws began to buckle, and Fleck caught him before his foster father could fall.

“No, no, no, Highwhisker. Stay with me, father.” Fleck rapidly put his paws on the wound, trying to staunch the blood. “This isn’t working. Stay with me.” Fleck looked around frantically for something, but didn’t see anything. Something. Something…

His satchel came to mind. Immediately, he reached for his satchel. Nothing. He reached at air.

The satchel lay halfway across the Court Burrow. “Highwhisker, can you stand up?” Words seemed to be flowing out of his mouth now.

“Yeah.” He moved his knees slowly, so that they were beneath him. Highwhisker grunted and got onto his legs shakily.

“Well, just stay there.” Fleck immediately took long steps to the satchel and wrapped it around Highwhisker’s side. “It’s alright,” Fleck managed to say, “You will. I promise.” Doubtful thoughts began to creep into his mind. What was he saying? Highwhisker had been hit by a spear, for the Great Hawk’s sake!

“This isn’t working…” The Healers’ complex. It was a ten minutes’ walk, but with Highwhisker unable to walk… He was getting ahead of himself.

“Can you walk, Highwhisker?”

“Course I can,” Highwhisker took a step over and bended over. “It’s only a little pain.” It certainly didn’t look so. Highwhisker’s jaws were clenched tightly.

“Well, then we’ve got to get over to the Healers’ complex. Can you walk that far?”

“Course I can, Fleck. I’ve been hurt before,” he growled. “Let’s get going, then.”

“Well, lean on me. It’ll be faster.” Fleck felt sick every time he took a glance at Highwhisker’s wound.

Highwhisker did so, and the extra weight was definitely hard on him. Did Highwhisker eat rocks for breakfast? Never mind. Fleck took a step up a wooden block that led to outside. Highwhisker took a few weak steps, and Fleck could feel Highwhisker’s muscles tightening.

“It’s just a bit of blood, Flekkanos. It’s alright.” Highwhisker took longer steps, and Fleck could see that Highwhisker was trying to look brave, but he looked over his shoulder every few seconds. It wasn’t alright. If Highwhisker was scared, then things were definitely wrong.

***

It was a slow process, but they managed to get to the Healers’ complex, beneath a red wooden structure. The man’s hoppers jumped around on it far less often nowadays. Fleck lifted Highwhisker off his shoulder, and looked around the complex. “Is anyone here?” It was utterly silent. He looked up, and spoke louder. “Is anyone here?”

“Don’t wake everyone up, you- Oh.” She stepped out of the shadows of tall grass and stopped. “Sir Highwhisker. Holy Hawk,” the mouse said and turned into the grass. “Janiel. Janiel, wake up!”

There was a muted groan, and then two mice stepped out of the grass. “We can help. But we’re the only ones awake.” Fleck recognized the girl as the one at the Gathering Complex.

The male, Janiel, scoffed. “More like the only ones willing to help.” He walked towards Fleck and Highwhisker. “Adri is going to give us so much crud for this...” he muttered.

“Why?” Fleck remembered the trainee who brought all that grass back. Maybe it was the same reason.

“We don’t know. Something to do with this damned rebellion.” Janiel muttered, like an older mouse. “It’s just- it’s just not right.”

The mouse at the Gathering Complex stood up. “It’s also the same reason why Adri didn’t let us take rose petals from you and we had to grab them ourselves.” She sighed. “I’m Lana. Now, Highwhisker,” she whispered in a hushed voice, “let me see your wound.” Lana paused. Who did this?”

Highwhisker replied first. “Hazelwood did.”

“Well, thank the Great Hawk the spear didn’t hit your organs. You’d be done for before you could even walk over here,” Janiel said, lowering himself to Highwhisker’s level.

Lana began to turn away into the grass, but Janiel stopped her. “You can’t use the store room. Adri’s guarding it. Look in the gatherer’s satchel.”

She narrowed her eyes at Janiel and looked in Fleck’s satchel. “You wouldn’t have any moss, would you? Cobwebs... Anything?”

“No. I don’t,” Fleck said. “I’ll grab some!” Fleck turned away and started running through the grass.

“Cobwebs are at the base of the wood. If you’re lucky, you’ll find some moss, too.”

Fleck already knew that. As much as he hated to admit it, Hazelwood taught where to find moss. In fact, Hazelwood taught Fleck more than any of the trainees.

He caught sight of some especially soft moss, and he ran his paws through it, collecting the delicate plant so that it didn't shred. Fleck hadn't collected any moss for nearly half a season.

A sharp twig landed next to him, and as he looked saw two Guard mice trying to hold a brown mouse in. Hazelwood. Those were probably Serica and Raven. Next to him was a patch of dark brown, and he realized that must be Hjerral. It sickened him.

Fleck dashed back to where Highwhisker, Lana, and Janiel were. “I’ve got some. Is Highwhisker better?”

“From five minutes ago, no. He’s not going to die, but if we don’t want him getting infected, we’ll have to clean out the wound.” Janiel stepped towards him, holding his paws out. “Lana, could you keep him up.”

“He just wants the moss.” Lana rolled her eyes. “And sure.” She stepped over to Highwhisker.

Fleck dug in his satchel and gave the moss to Janiel, who gave a nod and turned back to Highwhisker. “here you go, Highwhisker.”

Highwhisker stayed silent, but every time Lana pressed moss onto his side, he smiled. “You look nearly exactly like Juniper, you know.”

“Well, would you look at that. He’s hallucinating. Janiel, could you grab some more moss from his satchel?”

Fleck tried to remember who Juniper was. Fleck remembered Hazelwood saying something about the mouse, but Fleck never put much thought to it.

Janiel took the satchel off of Fleck’s shoulder and nodded. “Sorry bout that.”

Lana smiled. “Thank you, Janiel.”

Janiel smiled with a nod and then turned to Fleck. “You’re a good mouse getting him here. Surprised Hazelwood hasn’t got a grip on you yet, though.”

Fleck narrowed his eyes. “He tried to kill me. If it weren’t for Highwhisker...”

“Alright. Don’t move around too much. You should be okay though,” Janiel said in a rough voice.

Highwhisker stood up straight, but his jaw was clenched. “Thank you,” he said through clenched teeth. “And you too, Flekkanos.”

“We’re glad to help, Highwhisker.” Janiel looked behind his shoulder, and Fleck heard grass rustling.

“Thank you, Highwhisker.” Fleck looked down at his paws. He didn’t really do anything to help. He got Highwhisker hurt, more like.

“If the rebellion gets worse, we won’t be able to fight, but we’ll be able to heal,” Lana offered, raising her paw.

“Lana, it’s already bad. There won’t be any mice to fight for Highwhisker. Less than a week, and they’ll all be Guildless.”

“I’d be glad to have you on our side, Lana.” Highwhisker turned to Fleck. “Flekkanos, could you sleep in the court Burrow with me tonight? Hazelwood will think you’ll be in the rose bush. It’s for your sake.”

Fleck looked down and nodded.

“Come on, then,” Highwhisker said, a fake laugh in his voice. Fleck nodded weakly, and followed Highwhisker as he walked slowly out of the complex.