Get in Line

[Chak Ku'rill]

The mouse sat on the beach, staring across open sea while the squirrel chained to him lay curled up in a tight, sandy ball, still sleeping. The water reflected soft, pastel colors, and the waves lapped gently across the beach, caressing the bodies of several dead mariners.

A small dirk dropped into the sand beside the mouse and Chak nodded at Minstrel.

?Ye be havin? that. No tellin? what lies ahead.? He gestured at the squirrel. ?But keep it ta yerself. I bain?t be trustin? o? that one. He be havin? murder in ?is eyes since day one.?

The mouse reached out a finger and touched the little dagger carefully before lifting it experimentally in his paw and tucking it away. He gave Chak a strange look then grew silent and grave, hugging his knees close.

Chak cleared his throat and brushed at his nose, thrusting out a slab of broken wood.

?I be thinkin? mayhaps ye know how ta write??

Minstrel regarded the slave driver and nodded, opening his mouth at last with a single parched word.

?Aye.?

Chak sat down beside the mouse. He gripped the smooth plank of wood, stained silver gray with years of wear. ?I think it be part o? the ship.?

Minstrel stared ahead.

The sea otter ran a scarred paw reverently across the surface. ?D?ye . . . think ye could fit fifty-nine lines on it, mate??

That earned the mouse?s attention. He reached for the wood and began to inspect the surface, pulling out the dirk again to make a small nick in one corner.

?I be thinkin? all morning, an mosta the night, tryin? ta remember ?em all. When I picture the rows, it be easiest.?

Minstrel held the tip of the blade against the plank.

?Firs? there be Gaff an? Boddle across from ye, then Jumpkin, Addle, Miff, an Snap behind ye??

Minstrel carved out the first six names carefully: Atcus, Manny, Treefolio, Dash, Harlan, and Reinekin.

Next, ?Chip, Gilly, Bluster, an? Hodgepodge? became ?Theodore, Tiral, Cornelius and Warren.?

They continued down the list until all fifty-nine names were scratched into the board, covering both front and back while leaving space at the bottom where it could be pushed into the ground. Once Scrufftail was awake, they found a relatively sheltered area at the edge of a stand of trees and pounded it solemnly into the soil. Chak jerked as he remembered something, reaching deep into his pocket to retrieve a small, gleaming object. He pushed the vole?s cherished pendant into the top of the marker so it stuck.

Minstrel then sang another song ? a sad, mournful dirge that echoed hauntingly across the beach. Chak had never heard the like, and closed his eyes as the sorrowful melody stirred his crusty soul:

Cold rolls the sea o?er
hallowed bones

Who they were no
one will know

Sleep my friends
Thy souls are free

Journey through
e-ter-ni-ty

No more sickness
No more pains

No more scourging
No more chains

No more love
nor hope-filled dreams

No more warmth
of soft sunbeams.

Search in vain
wife, son, and friend

Thou shall never
know their end

?til Dark Forest?s
re-ti-nue

beckons thee
to join them too.

Silence was the only appropriate response. The ebb and flow of minor notes awakened long-subdued memories in the slave driver ? feelings rather than imagery. He put a paw to the mouse?s small shoulder and squeezed gently, then turned and walked away.

So far all the bodies Chak had found were bloated and cold. A few had items worth salvaging such as daggers and a few coin pouches, though Chak was unsure how much good coins would do him at this point. Even if he found the treasure of Captain Blade, it would benefit him little with no way to spend it.

To travel the sea one needed a ship, and to build and sail a sea-worthy vessel, one needed a crew. At least one ship's worth of beasts had been stranded in the water last night - maybe even two. There had to be other survivors.

Chak peered down the beach and thought he saw something move in the tide. He glanced back at Minstrel and Scrufftail who were trying to break the chain between them by pounding it with rocks. They appeared to be arguing.

?Oy! Minstrel! Come ?ere!?

The two slaves hesitated, then Minstrel started to make his way down the slope, pulling along his reluctant companion.

At least one of them listens.

When they stood before him Chak reached for the chain to ascertain the damage. The links glinted brighter where grime had been chipped off, but otherwise they were unaffected. Chak frowned. He noted the furless, raw-rubbed skin around the slaves? ankles and directed the two beasts to follow him over to one of the bodies he had already plundered. He pulled the dead weasel?s shirt loose and tore several strips of fabric away, handing them to the mouse and squirrel.

??Ere, wrap these round yer ankles ta keep the manacles from chafin?. That be slowin? us down.? He grabbed the loose end of the chain and pulled it up from the sand, ?Ye prob?ly don? wan? this draggin? behind ye either?? He paused, looking down at the bracket they had worked so hard to yank from the floorboards.

The long, sharp nails were gone.

Chak glared at Scrufftail, who refused to meet his eyes. The otter growled and seized the squirrel by the collar, patting him down until he felt the long spikes poking through his pockets. Chak snarled, removing four nails total. He flung them angrily into the surf then backhanded the squirrel who grunted and spun, landing awkwardly in the sand.

?Be glad yer chained ta a better beast, ye backstabbin? bilge scallop, or I?d be givin? ye a thrashin? ye bain?t be walkin? away from!? He kicked the squirrel in the gut for good measure, knocking the wind out of him. Scrufftail gasped for air while the mouse looked on and Chak snorted with annoyance, gazing down the length of the beach once more.

?Minstrel, get ?im up. We be needin? ta move.?

Chak spotted a piece of dark driftwood ? smooth, yet sturdy ? and picked it up. A knife was good to have, but a club sat more comfortably in the slave driver?s paw. He brushed off the sand and inspected the new tool before sliding it to hang in the empty loop at his side.

As the trio hiked further down the shore, it became more obvious that there were figures moving in the distance, and, after a few more steps, the shape and back spikes of a hedgehog were easy to distinguish. For an instant Chak hoped to think that the slave, Hodgepodge, had somehow freed himself and made it out of the ship, but of course that was not true. The hedgehog was far too well-dressed. Drawing closer, they saw that the hedgehog seemed to be trying to revive a mouse ? a companion from the Waverunner ship, no doubt.

Perhaps Chak could start rebuilding his slave crew?

It was easy for the hedgehog to spot their approach, yet he did not seem apprehensive. In fact he seemed welcoming, giving Chak a friendly, albeit somber nod. He held an open flask out to the mouse, who seemed to be dry retching.

?You swallowed a lot of salt, young lass. Have some fresh water. It?ll help.?

Chak realized then with a start that the mouse was actually no mouse at all but rather a small rat, her fat tail stretching out limply behind her. The strangeness of the situation gave him pause, until the hedgehog stood to greet him more formally.

?Nice to see we?re not alone out here.? He extended a paw. ?Robert Rosequill.?

Perhaps it was the fact that Chak was an otter that made this beast so trusting. Maybe he thought Chak was a slave himself ? just another galleybeast. The sea otter determined to drive home a stronger first impression. He pulled the club-like piece of driftwood from his belt.

?Minstrel, tell this Waverunner pincushion who I be.?

The mouse stepped up, jerking a nod at Chak. ?Sir, this is Chak Ku?rill, otherwise known as ?Chak the Cruel,? officer of the Silver Maiden and overseer of the slaves therein.?

?I see.? Robert frowned and dropped the paw. ?So then, if you?re no longer on your ship, that would mean you?re no longer under his authority. Right, mate?? He winked at the mouse but the mouse?s face remained an indifferent mask.

?That would be a hasty assumption.?

Robert whistled at the remark. ?He?s done a number on you, hasn?t he? What?s your name, friend??

Chak stepped between the hedgehog and mouse, holding the driftwood club in a threatening gesture. ?I?d prefer it if ye didn?t banter with me slaves, hog??less ye be wishin? ta join ?em.? He pointed a claw at the rat who had risen to her feet to gawp at him. ?Who be this varmin??

?Plink the Terrible!? squeaked the young searat boldly, ?daughter o' Captain Scarcrab the Fearsome!?

Chak smirked. ?Oh ye air, air ye? Fittin? name fer a corsair. How be ye endin? up wi? this bumpkin??

Plink quickly distanced herself from the hedgehog. "He sneaked up on me while I was recoverin' from the swim ashore. Prolly intendin' ta finish me off."

Chak grunted. "An where be ye comin' from?"

Plink puffed with pride, smirking up at Chak. "I've been aboard the Zephyr this whole voyage, eatin' the mad badgerlord's own scones right out from under his scurvy snout!"

"Arrrr," Chak growled his approval. "Well yer welcome ta travel wi? me fer a while. We be headin' down the beach ta see what we be findin'. Mayhaps more o' me shipmates."

The otter ignored the presence of Robert, having mentally dismissed him. He could either fall in line or rot with the other bodies on the beach.

"Aye!" The rat stumbled across the uneven sand in her enthusiasm to begin the march. "D'ye think a lot of 'em survived? Or yer captain? What manner o' beast is he?"

Chak was not sure whether to be flattered or annoyed at the enthusiasm of the little beast. ?Yarrr?we?ll be seein? soon enough. An? the cap?n?s a marm.?

He started off down the beach, gesturing for the two chained slavebeasts to follow. They hurried obediently at his heels, heads down. Plink kept pace with the burly pirate, continuing to bombard him with questions.

After letting them walk a fair distance without him, the hedgehog finally decided to follow, trailing reluctantly after the vermin.

Chak smiled inwardly.