A Wildcat and His Nip (Anton Clayworth)

[Substitute Author]

"A box without hinges, key, or lid. Yet golden treasure inside is hid."
Is this relevant? Not at all.


Anton Clayworth hated his name. He had always hated his name; hated it ever since he was old enough to know the meaning of hate. He had considered changing it many times ? considered calling himself something a bit more terrifying ? but he had never thought of one he liked enough to use. He most definitely wasn?t going to change it now; it was all he had left.
?I signed onto a corsair ship,? Anton stated casually as he plopped himself firmly onto a chair, arms crossed over the low backrest.

?What?? Another wildcat stared at him confusedly.

?I signed onto a corsair ship, Annie,? Anton repeated, levelly returning the stare.

?I heard you the first time, but ? why??

?Why?? Anton?s eyes narrowed. ?Because, dear sister, there?s nothing for me here. Not anymore. Not after our bumbling brother lost at gambling against someone with loaded dice!?

?Our brother was the one with the loaded dice,? Annie said quietly.

?And he still somehow lost!? Anton exploded, leaping from his chair and sending the hapless piece of furniture crashing to the floor. ?And he didn?t just lose what he had with him. Oh no, he had to go and lose the entire family fortune! Now look at us; look what we?re reduced to.? He gestured wildly to himself, indicating with obvious disgust the plain, brown clothing he wore. ?It?s all I can do to keep these things clean.?

?Then go without.?

Anton snorted derisively. ?Don?t mock me, Annie.? He stalked over to the door and pulled it open. ?Goodbye.?

?Yes, you?re off to seek fame and fortune on the high seas.?

He ignored her and slammed the door. Setting off down the street, he breathed deeply. ?Might as well head to the ship now,? he muttered, fingering a drawstring pouch hanging at his waist. It looked to be empty. ?But first, I need to make a quick stop.?

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Three days! It?s been three days without fresh meat! Anton strode briskly through an underground passage, the stone floor cold on his paws. The passageway branched in numerous places, and, although chosen at random, he made careful note of which way he went. With flickering torch in one paw, and bound rat in the other, his lips curled into a wicked grin and he tightened his grip on both. There?s one problem solved.

?Wasn?t it nice of those slaves to make a diversion so I could steal you away?? he cooed. ?I bet you won?t even be missed. Everyone will probably just think the Big Evil stole you away ? everyone except for me. You know, maybe I should just start calling myself Big Evil.? Anton chuckled at that.
The stone under paw gave way to dirt. The wildcat hardly stopped, his grin only growing wider. ?Well, at least I won?t get lost down in this place.? He continued on for some time before finally stopping and leering at the rat. ?I don?t think we?ll be disturbed here.?

Anton?s claws flexed in and out of his paws, inadvertently kneading the rat. Its pained squeaks were music to his ears. It?s been much too long since I?ve done this. A purr rose up in his throat and he tossed the rat onto the floor, sending a cloud of dust billowing up about the two of them. The last time was with that scrawny mouse. The wildcat glanced down at the thin rat with a jaundiced eye. Well, he seemed scrawny at the time anyways.

?Alright rat, I?m going to cut your ropes.? Anton frowned as a thought occurred to him. ?On second thought, you likely know these passages backwards and forwards. As much as I?d like to, I don?t think I can afford to let you run around. Can?t have you running back to the surface.? He wedged the torch into the ground before grabbing the drawstring pouch at his waist. ?Well, at least I can make this somewhat enjoyable.?

He pressed the pouch to his nose and inhaled deeply. A minty odor wafted into his nostrils sending shivers of joy carousing up and down his lithe figure and energy surging through his veins. He felt so ? alive! Already he could feel his field of vision widening and growing. Every sound intensified to new heights; all blending together to become a muddle of noise.

Before Anton lost himself completely to the herbs, he managed to return the pouch to its proper place at his waist. Dropping down onto all fours, tail twitching behind him, the wildcat brought his wide-eyed attention to bear on the quivering rat. As he slowly and unblinkingly worked his way forward, he took no notice of the pawprints he left behind on the dirt floor. A twisted grin played across his features, oddly complimenting his wild look.

?Don?t worry,? he purred. ?I hear being ripped apart doesn?t hurt as much as it sounds?? Anton was abruptly interrupted by a low, keening sound that would be eerie in and of itself. Coupled with the shadow-strewn passageway, however, it became downright spooky.

The rat let out a terrified squeak and lifted its bound paws to its ears.

Pausing with a single paw lifted, the wildcat glanced warily about. Through his muddled senses, he couldn?t pinpoint the source of the unnerving noise. His tail began to fluff out of its own accord, doubling in size. Some rational part of him knew something was wrong and slowly ? ever so slowly ? he began to take steps backwards, blending into the shadows, until only the glimmer of his eyes could be seen.

Tensed, Anton listened to the haunting dirge grow louder. It seemed to be coming from everywhere at once. He could feel a growl begin to build in the back of his throat. His head darted urgently to and fro, staring at a patch of blackness for a moment before abruptly looking at a different spot, equally dark. He seemed to have forgotten completely about the rat. It?s close! Whatever it is ?

His mind went completely blank when the torch was extinguished. Freezing completely in the pitch blackness, Anton?s eyes widened further, trying in vain to see something. By now, the keening had reached a crescendo, invading the wildcat?s ears and standing his fur on end.

Abruptly, without warning, the noise stopped. A strangled sob came from the rat?s direction.

Then, there was nothing; nothing but the beating of Anton?s heart and the blackness that pressed almost tangibly against him. The silence was deafening. He wasn?t sure how long he crouched there, as still as a statue. All he knew was that he didn?t move until adrenaline had worn off and his legs gave out beneath him. Slumping to the dusty floor, he could feel the effects of the herbs wearing off in the form of his sensibility returning to him.

I need to find the torch. I need light. Pulling himself back up to his paws, Anton cautiously began crawling forward through the dirt, paws sweeping back and forth in front of him. Finally, he found the torch laying on its side. Grasping it tightly, he hardly breathed until he managed to light the thing.

Yellow flames flickered to life, casting pale light around the passageway. Blinking as his eyes struggled to adjust, Anton glanced around. The rat was nowhere to be seen. Looking at the spot where the native had been, the wildcat?s breath caught in his throat.

The only sign that the captive had ever been there was a small depression in the dirt, but that wasn?t what held Anton?s attention. For right next to the dip was the largest set of pawprints he had ever lay eye on.

Swallowing, he stepped lightly over and crouched down to examine them, doing his best to determine what manner of creature they belonged to. Juxtaposing his own paw next to one, his eyes widened. These tracks have to be twice the size of mine! Whatever made these must be huge!

The words of the rat prophetess rang unbidden through his head. Many troubles! Many big troubles! Many hurt! Many bloods! Many dead!

Suddenly, Anton didn?t feel so inclined to scoff at those words. A paw rested on the hilt of his sword; reassurance. Swallowing again, he looked to see where the tracks led and, with dawning horror, realized they passed right by the spot in which he had earlier been crouched before they disappeared down the dark passageway. He felt a measure of relief to see they led away from the direction he had come.

For the briefest of moments, he actually entertained the idea of following the monstrous pawprints, but it didn?t take long for common sense to intervene.I hardly think there?s anything I can do by myself against something that makes tracks that big.

Doing a hasty about-face, Anton began striding back through the passageway, not daring to look over his shoulder as he rapidly made his way towards the surface. Finally, he emerged into the sunlight and breathed a sigh of relief. Already, the events of the passageway seemed distant and far-removed.

Maybe everything that happened down there was just a side-effect of the herbs. It wouldn?t be the first time?but those pawprints? Anton shuddered. No, those pawprints were definitely real.

Extinguishing the torch, he cast it aside and sought out Doctor Lowri, finding the marten in his room. ?Captain? May I have a word with you?? he asked, sticking his head through the doorway.

The marten looked distractedly up. ?Yes, what do you need, Clayworth??

?I was down in the passageways,? he hesitated. ?Uh, searching for the escaped slaves, when I came across a giant set of pawprints.?

?I want you to report to Silus,? Jonas said abruptly.

Anton was taken aback by this response. Was it possible the marten had not heard him? ?Sir??

?You are to help him find my daughter.?

Anton stared askance at Doctor Lowri. ?But ??

?That is an order, Clayworth.?

??Yes sir.? Anton retreated from the room, closing the door behind him. Is it just me or is the Captain going a bit daft?

A short distance away, a small group of the native rats were clustered around the prophetess.
?Big evil,? she said emphatically, loud enough that Anton overheard.

He shivered and went off to find Silus.