Of Steel and Moonlight

[Tooley Bostay]

Tooley had been careful not to be seen as he trailed Ciera down through the tunnels and into the dew-stained harbor. The air was thick with the smell of mildew and saltwater, to the point where Tooley had to pant out his breaths. Eventually, he stopped behind a set of barrels and watched.

Ciera, meanwhile, approached a small ship in the harbor, then began doing seemingly mundane checks. She lowered the sails and scrutinized them, checked the hull for any damage, and even swam to examine the rudder.

Tooley wasn't sure how long she worked - or how long he'd been down here - when there was a crashing sound from one of the other boats. Ciera noticed it as well, and began to make her way over to a large, black ship fitted with black sails. Tooley shivered as he saw the ship. This was the ship that appeared that one night...

Drawing in a deep breath, he followed behind Ciera, careful so that his footsteps upon the watery rock were silent. As he approached the gangplank, he heard two voices coming from up on the ship. The captain was talking to someone. He crept up the gangplank and poked his head up over the edge.

He saw Ciera first, then looked at the other beast. He drew in a sharp breath, recognizing the bushy tail and white sashes. It was Crue.

There was a sudden grind of metal as Ciera drew her blade and leveled it at the healer's neck. Visions of Crue working in the sulfur mine snapped into his mind.

No!

Tooley was moving before he knew it. He wouldn't let this happen. Not to Crue. Not to his friend.

He slammed into the captain's side and wrapped his arms around her waist, shoving both of them to the ground. Tooley heard a clatter of metal as they hit the ground, rolling to a stop a distant away from Crue.

Tooley spared a glance upwards, eyes wide and pleading. "Run, Crue! Run!"

He wheezed as an elbow slammed into his side, but his grip remained firm.

"Get... off... me!" Ciera ground out.

He heard Crue shout something, then footsteps pad across the deck. He managed to see that she was gone. Good--he just needed to stall a little longer.

A stabbing pain at his side ripped him from his thoughts. Instinctively, he shoved an arm down, managing to pry Ciera's claws free from his skin. He realized his mistake a moment too late. Gray blurred at the corner of his vision, then the world flashed white.

Tooley's head slammed back against the deck, jaw throbbing. He shook his head and squinted up. Ciera was on her feet and heading towards her cutlass. Tooley scrambled up and launched himself at her. He managed to wrap an arm around the captain's boot, and she let out a surprised yelp before crashing facefirst to the deck.

"You idiot! What are you doing?" Ciera shouted as she swiped a paw for her cutlass.

Tooley tugged her back and her paw grazed the bottom of the handle. "I ain't gonna let ye 'urt anyone else!"

Ciera scowled and aimed a kick at his face. "I wasn't planning on attacking her!"

"I don' berlieve ye!" Tooley grimaced as the edge of the boot smacked into his snout. He snorted, blood flicking onto his arm.

Ciera kicked again, this time striking his chest. Her boots slipped from his grasp and he swung a futile paw at her as she clambered over to her blade, snatched it up, and whipped around.

"Enough!"                                                                                                                 

The captain stood above him, cutlass in her grip. Fire flashed through his mind. A night of burning sails, screaming beasts, and a whimpering weasel. The failure of that night was still fresh in his memory.

But here, he wasn't scared. Crue was safe, probably already long gone from this horrible place. It was just him and the captain now. It didn't matter if she killed him or not--he'd saved his friend.

Ciera stared down at the weasel, a mixture of emotions crossing her face as she recovered her breath. Her fingers worked along the handle of her cutlass, and the blade wavered in the air. She cast a glance towards the harbor, then with her free paw reached into her pocket. She withdrew a small gold coin and regarded it for a moment.

"I suppose you still have some use..." she muttered under her breath, looking back at Tooley.

Tooley grit his teeth. "That's all we ever were t' ye, weren't it?" He wiped a paw across his nose, snorting at the blood filling his nostrils. "Jus' things t' be used."

Ciera head titled to the side, expression indifferent. "Don't act like piracy was ever glamorous. You all had your roles." She leveled the sword down at Tooley. "Yours, if I recall, didn't include spying. Why are you here?"

Tooley was silent for a moment. He considered answering her, but what would he say? That he was following her? That he wanted to know why she was sneaking around this late at night? His brow softened, and he settled on a simpler response, "Why'd ye do it?"

Ciera frowned. "What?"

Tooley shook his head slightly, continuing, "I trusted ye, cap'n... I really did."

Ciera laughed. It was dry and mirthless, more of an insult than a laugh. "That's what this is about, isn't it? You're just mad I didn't pick you. After what you did to my ship, you're actually surprised I didn't pick you."

Tooley clenched his fists and pressed his knuckles into the deck. "It ain't 'bout me! It's about Crue, an'... an' yer crew! Yer the cap'n, an we were all in this together. Y' didn' jus' not pick me, y left a lot o' beasts behind, an' now they're stuck in this 'orrible place!"

Ciera folded her arms. "You honestly think I could have just told Blade to spare them all?"

"Y' could 'ave tried! It's like y' don' even care!"

Ciera blinked. "That would be because I don't."

"Well, I do!" Ignoring the blade in front of him and the gashes in his side, Tooley slowly got to his feet. "Those beasts got lives jus' like th' rest o' us, but they ain't got no one t' stand up fer 'em!"

"And who will? You?" Ciera scoffed. "You don't get it, do you? This is so much bigger than just the slaves. They don't matter! The pirates don't matter! You and I don't matter! It's just Blade. Everything has always been about him."

Tooley's face screwed up into a confused expression. "I... I don' unnerstan'."

"Look around you!" Ciera gestured at the ships surrounding them. "Can't you see all the bloody signs right in front of you? Pirates mobilizing and being drilled, all the recent weapons being forged, the ships being loaded with these new... cannons. Blade's waging war. The war."

"Wit' who?"

"Everyone! Anyone that would get in his way. This isn't about uniting pirates anymore, it's about conquest. It's been about conquest since the beginning! First will be Salamandastron, then all of bloody Mossflower! Southsward. The Northlands. No one will be able to stop him."

Tooley imagined sulfur mines spread all across the mainland. Hundreds--thousands of beasts. Working. Dying. The sun would be blotted out under the poisonous, dust-filled air.

"No, no!" Tooley grimaced, trying to shake the visions out of his head. Still beasts lay scattered across a desolate wasteland, but there was one beast who walked among the dead. A ferret, striding forward with a proud grin upon his face. This was what he wanted.

"'E needs t' be stopped!" Tooley shouted, looking up at Ciera with wide eyes.

Ciera remained unfazed, relaxing a paw upon her hip. "He's been planning this for seasons. Maybe even since before I knew him. There's no stopping him. Not here."

Tooley stared, unbelieving. "Yer not even gonna try?"

"I'm not going to do something stupid and get myself killed, no." She cast a glance to the other ships anchored to the harbor, then sighed and raked a paw over her head. "Though, even the smart decision may not be enough..."

"An' what 'bout all th' slaves?"

"What about them?" She turned back around and shrugged. "Fate's unkind to all of us in its own way. They just learned that more than most. There's nothing to be done here."

Tooley's fur bristled, and he shook his head hard. "Yer wrong. An' if yer not gonna do anythin', then..." he hesitated, measuring his words for a moment. With a huff, he straightened up and stared the captain in the eye, "then I will!"

For a long moment, the only sound was that of water sloshing beneath them. Tooley saw Ciera's paw move and he shut his eyes, waiting for the blade to strike. There was a metallic clattering, and no pain came. He blinked down, running paws over himself to make sure he really was all right before he noticed Ciera's cutlass lying on the ground.

"Fine then," Ciera said. "Have your 'crew.' I'm done sticking my neck out for beasts."

Tooley's gaze fell to the cutlass in front of him. Tentatively, he reached down and hefted the blade up. His eyes trailed up the steel where moonlight shimmered across its edge. The dance of light spurred something within him that was all at once familiar and nameless. The dark, lantern-lit deck of the Maiden crossed his mind, and he realized this wasn't the first time he'd encountered this feeling.

Only this time, he understood it more. The blade was just steel formed into a useful shape, but the light that spread across its surface revealed its true nature. Here was a way to fight for those who couldn't--to pierce through the darkness and restore rightness to beasts so wronged.

This was what he needed to make things right.

Suddenly, the blade was ripped away from his sight. Tooley's arms were abruptly locked behind him, and something sharp pressed to his neck.

"Got 'im, Cap'n Ancora!" came a raspy voice.

Three corsairs had appeared on the ship. One was a musky-smelling stoat that pinned Tooley in a tight grip. A rat stood at Tooley's side, a shiny dagger held up against his neck.

"What happened here?" a fox, small and agile-looking, said.

Ciera straightened her jacket and stood up straighter. "I was inspecting the ship and found this weasel stowing away on-board." She reached into her pocket and flicked a gold coin to the fox. "He was stealing from the treasury."

The fox caught the coin, then shot a dirty look at Tooley.

"W-What?!" Tooley sputtered. "That ain't tru--"

The stoat clapped a paw over his mouth. Tooley struggled to talk, but quickly refocused his attention on breathing through his blood-filled nostrils.

"Oh, and then he attacked me," Ciera said with a meaningful look towards the sword in the fox's grip.

"Oh-ho, yer in trouble now!" the rat said, a whistle accompanying his words through a gap in his rotted teeth. "Attackin' one o' Blade's fav'rites and stealin' 'is treashur? Heh heh, I'm gonna wanna see dis!"

The fox stepped forward. "What do you want us to do with him?"

Ciera shrugged. "Take him back up to crew quarters and let the overseer decide."

The rat's smile fell. "All th' way back up der?"

"Yes." Ciera narrowed her eyes at the rat. "Or is there a problem with that?"

"Err... no, cap'n, 'course not."

Ciera turned and took a step towards the gangplank before the small fox ran up to her and cleared his throat.

"Captain. This is yours, aye?" The fox held up Ciera's cutlass across his paws.

Ciera regarded the blade for a moment. "No. It's not." Without another word, she proceeded down the gangplank and disappeared over the edge. Part of Tooley hurt when he realized he would probably never see her again.

The stoat finally dropped his paw from Tooley's mouth, and he took a deep breath before he felt a paw shove him towards the gangplank.

"C'mon," the rat muttered. "Let's get t' marchin'..."

---

The trek up through the Dead Rock was plodding, and the rat took every opportunity to complain. First it was about his swollen heels, so they slowed their pace. Then it was about his arm getting tired from holding the knife up, so he let it drop. When he stopped finding things to complain about, he focused his attention on Tooley.

"Could be th' stacks fer ye," he said with a thoughtful tap of his chin, "er a good twistin' on th' rod. Maybe we'll even keep ye fer a good keelhaulin' once we set sail!"

Tooley didn't understand what any of those meant, but the rat's tone was malicious. Tooley bit at his lip, then turned to look at the fox walking beside them. He'd been mesmerized by the captain's blade ever since they had left the harbor.

Tooley set his jaw. He remembered Chak's words. He just had one chance. He needed to wait for the right opportunity.

Halfway up the mountain, they reached a split, where a hollowed out tunnel veered off to the right. A small door was close at the end of the tunnel, but Tooley recognized the wave of heat that emanated from beyond it.

As they passed the path to the forge, Tooley saw that a beast was walking towards them from the other side, a steaming bowl of soup cupped loosely in his paws. Tooley noticed the heat-blistered, reinforced apron the weasel wore, and how the fur around the weasel's eyes and snout shined silver in the lantern light.

"Tooley?" Rindclaw said, eyes widening.

They were just about to cross paths now. The rat was grumbling about something.

Tooley's gaze flicked down to the bowl of soup in Rindclaw's paws, and the steam that lifted up from it.

This was his chance.

"'M sorry," he whispered under his breath, then swept a leg out.

His boot smacked into Rindclaw's shins, sending the older weasel tumbling to the ground. The bowl of soup hit the ground, sending steaming liquid spraying out. The rat shrieked and dodged away, and Tooley felt the stoat's grip on him loosen. Just enough.

Tooley leaned forward and sunk his teeth into the stoat's arm. His captor howled in pain and collapsed backwards, his other paw clutching his bleeding arm.

The rat shouted out something, and Tooley knew he only had a few more seconds. He spun to face the thin fox, who still seemed dazed. The two locked eyes. Tooley darted forward as the fox fumbled to get a proper grip on the sword. Tooley crashed into him so hard that his hat went flying off as the two beasts toppled to the floor. Tooley's paws wrapped around the guard of the cutlass and kicked a boot into the fox's stomach. The fox sputtered out a hack, and the cutlass came loose.

Tooley scrambled to his feet. He dodged a swipe from the rat and shoved the pirate into the rock wall. There was a loud crack, and Tooley saw a tooth flick through the air before the rat hit the ground.

He turned to run through the tunnel to see that Rindclaw stood in front of him, blocking the pathway. The older weasel's hard gaze suddenly widened. His eyes drifted up to Tooley's head, and his face went several shades whiter.

Tooley took the opportunity to dart around the weasel and head back through the tunnel. His grip tightened around the cutlass. There was no turning back now. This was his chance to fix things.

There was only one thing he had to do: kill Captain Blade.