Making Tracks (Anton Clayworth)

[Substitute Author]

I asked if I should take the left, and they said that was right, so I took the right, and they said that was wrong. Please, can someone tell me what is left?!




I?m on the right side, which isn?t right at all. Typical.

Anton?s lips curled in disgust ? and perhaps a bit of fear ? at the thought of having to go searching through dark tunnels again. From where he leaned against the wall, the wildcat eyed the sorry excuse for a crew as they finished up their sorry excuse for a meal.

Stale biscuits and seaweed stew! Pah, what a lark. Food hardly fit for seagulls. He patted his stomach with a smug grin. It?s a good thing I already ate. He looked at the crew again. Despite the urgency with which they went about their business, there was an underlying tiredness to their actions. They?re obviously not going to be wholly reliable down in the tunnels. Useless creatures. He stifled a yawn of his own and sauntered over to the group as it began its short trek to the cellars.

Catching sight of him, she saw fit to glare. Anton glared back. He had no like for the slaver, and knew the feeling was more than mutual. He was as likely to get offed by her as by the Big Evil. If only that useless slave had done his job right, I wouldn?t have to worry about her. He thought back to the incident earlier in the day and gave a mental sneer. Of course he had known the vole was going for his dagger! There was a reason he had carefully positioned himself with the weapon in plain view. What better way to kill that dratted slaver than with the one she least suspected. It would have worked, but of course that little vole had to get all noble! On the bright side, that?s one less loose end I have to worry about.

?Listen up, you lot!? Anton was pulled from his thoughts by Ashira?s harsh voice. ?Notify me immediately if you find any kind of tunnel leading out of the fort. Anybeast I catch slacking during our search is dead! Am I clear?? Not waiting for the murmured assents that followed, the ferret stormed into one of the rooms.

Most of the crew moved in the opposite direction.

Anton chose a room somewhere between the two. Walking casually in, his eyes narrowed as he spotted tracks on the dusty, stone floor. A large group of creatures had clearly passed this way recently. Crouching down to get a better look, he did his best to determine if it was the slave group or not.

After a full minute of staring at the tracks, he gave up the endeavor as hopeless. This is ridiculous. I?m not a bloody tracker! For all I know, these tracks were made by the island rats. With a growl of frustration, he slammed his paw into the stone, sending a small cloud of dust billowing up around him. Coughing irritably, Anton straightened. ?I suppose I?ll just have to follow them for now,? he muttered.

Taking care not to actually step on the muddled footprints, he followed them right up to a trap door inset into the stone. Giving the rest of the room a cursory glance, he grabbed the metal ring and tugged. The wood rose slowly, emitting an eerie groan that gave Anton nervous pause. Finally, he threw it open the rest of the way and peered down into the black pit.

The light from his torch revealed a short flight of stairs that ended in another stone floor. The question of how long it took to construct all these stone passageways flitted briefly through Anton?s head before being dismissed a moment later. Now was hardly the time to ponder such things. No, now was the time to make sure he stayed alive, and being alone like he was hardly seemed the smart thing to do.

Turning abruptly towards the doorway, he began striding towards it when Ashira appeared in the doorway. Coming to a halt, Anton eyed the ferret cautiously, muscles tensed.

?What are you doing in here, Clayworth?? the ferret demanded.

?I was just on my way to find you,? Anton replied smoothly. ?I?ve found tracks leading to a trap door.?

?Yes, I saw the tracks. They?re plain enough for any fool to follow. Those slaves certainly weren?t careful about covering their tracks.? Ashira stalked over to the open trap door and peered down. ?Get the rest of the crew. We?re going after them.?

Anton was incredulous. ?You can?t be serious! We haven?t slept a wink for over a day. Silus? orders were to find possible tunnel entrances, not go gallivanting off to find the escapees.?

?Those slaves have been left alone for far too long, long enough to grow confident in their freedom. Now is the perfect time to recapture them.? Ashira?s eyes narrowed and a dangerous smile plied her lips. ?However, if you want to stay here and sleep, cat, I can certainly arrange that.? She rested her paw meaningfully on her blade.

The blood drained from Anton?s face, and he was immensely grateful for the fur that hid such embarrassing things. He didn?t relish the idea of a head-to-head duel with the ferret ? not on equal terms, anyways. He doubted he would be any kind of match for the slaver when it came to swordplay. No, the only way he planned on risking his life in battle with Ashira was if he had a distinct advantage. ?I digress. I?ll fetch the others.? Keeping his eyes on the ferret, Anton backed slowly out of the room.

However relieved he was to be away from Ashira, it didn?t take him long to gather the rest of the group. Upon returning, Anton found her still standing by the trap door. She looked a little smug to him, but he ignored that. She waited until everybeast had shuffled in before speaking.

?I have found the trail of the escaped slaves,? Ashira began. Anton glowered, but kept his silence. ?We are going to track them down.? There were mutterings throughout the group, but a murderous glare from Ashira quieted things immediately. ?And since I?m obviously the most experienced tracker, I?ll lead. Are there any objections?? There were none. ?Then let?s go.? With that, she turned and disappeared down the hole in the floor, the crew quickly following suit.

As Anton filed down the stairs, he cast one last, apprehensive glance about the room. He hoped this wouldn?t be the last time he saw it. A moment later, he was down in the next passageway. Brown eyes darting warily back and forth, Anton took care to stay in the middle of the group. Whatever the Big Evil was, he doubted it would try and go for him if he wasn?t on the outskirts. Safety in numbers. He glanced around at the sullen, trudging figures surrounding him. Although I doubt these dolts really count for much. His gaze made its way to Ashira. And she definitely doesn?t make things safe.

?I can?t believe we ?ave to be down ?ere right now,? the weasel right behind him muttered. ?I could be up top ?avin? a nice time enjoyin? some more grub.?

?Don?t let Ashira ?ear yah say that,? the stoat on the other side of Anton hissed. ?If she does, yah might find yerself with a lovely hole in yor chest, mate.?

Anton looked again at Ashira. She seemed to be quite involved in her tracking, and didn?t appear to be paying any attention to conversation behind her. Still, one couldn?t be too sure. ?Maybe we should give her a hole in her chest,? he whispered in a voice barely loud enough to be heard.

?Aye, I certainly don?t got any love fer ?er,? the stoat whispered over his shoulder. ?But I don?t fancy tryin? my paw at offin? her.?
?What if we all went for ?er?? the weasel mused.

Anton grinned. Just a bit more persuasion. Still, if the crew was that ready to mutiny, they certainly couldn?t be trusted any further than Anton could throw them, and when it came to his throwing skills ? he decided to keep a paw on the hilt of his sword.