Hurry Up and Wait

[Brooga Delfan]

And when the final duel is near
I'll lift my spear and fly
Piercing into the sky and higher
And the strong will thrive.

Cricket's plan was not put into action immediately. The shrinking band of survivors was tired and struggling under sinking morale. Even Brooga was sorely disheartened. Perhaps she hadn't shown it at first, but the tears that she had not let fall while speaking with the others were now rolling silently down her velvet cheeks, drenching them once again, even before the spray from the Kraken's attack had dried.

Roger and Tassle were gone.

Tassle was gone. And even though that would have been more than hard enough for the mole to bear, she knew that she was, how ever indirectly, the reason. The shrew had died to save her life. Brooga's life. And now she felt alone, scared, and terribly worried.

Had it really been worth it? Wouldn't it have been better for everyone if Tassle had survived instead? She was a fighter. Brooga was not. Not in the way that the caves required.

She rested her back against the rocky cavern wall, sending one or two loose stones and a quantity of dust clattering to the floor. Ulrick was sitting in similar fashion several feet away, more noticeable to the mole's ears than to her eyes. He was tired. His breathing a little heavier, a little deeper than normal. Brooga suddenly felt horribly selfish. She was alive, and as healthy as any beast was in those life-forsaken tunnels, and was busying herself with unhappy thoughts instead of caring for the others as best she could.

?Maister Ulrick??

She made a valiantly unsuccessful attempt at forcing her grief from her voice, and the badger looked up with a more or less irritated look stretched across his striped features, though it could have just been the weariness that had stalked him the last few days.

?What, Brooga??

The tone of the badger's voice was more irritated than his expression, but even then he sounded like he was tired. Brooga didn't seem to notice his tone either way. Even if she had, she would not have acted any differently. She had gone through just as many trials in the past few weeks as the badger. Loneliness would help nothing, despite what some beasts might say.

?'Ee sound toired, zurr.?

The badger snorted. ?And who isn't? Why don't you get some rest like the rest of us are, before we go running off to Dark Forest Gates.? The badger's words were strangely bitter, as if his already dark view of the world had somehow been tainted further.

?Zurr Ulrick? Urr 'ee a'right??

He turned towards her, massive head swinging slowly until he was looking directly towards her. His mouth opened, then closed again stubbornly. And then his shoulders slumped, and he breathed deep and slow, but there was no relief in the sound.

?No.?

He let out a long groan, and Brooga listened, half in wonder as she felt every undulation in the strange noise. Her face contracted gently into a confused frown. Ulrick had never admitted anything before, let alone something like that, that he wasn't perfectly well. That he had a weakness.

Another tear trickled down Brooga's cheek, this time for the badger's sake. A nagging feeling at the back of her mind told her that she should be worried. If Ulrick wasn't confident, wasn't alright, what chance did the rest of them have? Cricket's plan required the badger just as much as Brooga's own simple plan had. Why was he like this now?

Why was he broken?

She carefully crept a little closer, and then cautiously touched one of his knees with her digging claw. A beast was in pain. All she could do was try to help. She could do no harm by gentleness.

Ulrick didn't move.

Brooga's simple mind could not understand the badger at all now. She hadn't been particularly successful beforehand either. Ulrick had been surly and bitter since the moment they had been thrown together by their circumstances. He had been defined by two states of mind that she had never been able to fathom. Certainly, she was not perfect and had often found herself angry before, and there had been times where she had not wanted to forgive another beast for some wrong done, but she had never held on to her irritation for any great amount of time.

Irritation was probably too strong a word.

But now Ulrick no longer seemed so angry. Now, when their plight seemed to have more hope than ever. Two wolves lay dead, never to destroy the life of any other creature. The third was sure to follow, for what chance did one beast have against ten?

And yet, the badger looked defeated. It couldn't have been Tassle's sacrifice. They had seen so much death in these tunnels and caverns, and the badger hadn't even helped when they buried the slain.

But what else could it have been? Who else could it have been? Brooga wasn't positive the badger had even known Roger's name. Perhaps it was the wolf, then? But no, Ulrick did not pity his enemies.

?Zurr badger, whoi be 'ee so sad??

He didn't answer right away, and when he did it was preceded by a kind of low growl that had lost all of its hostility.

?She should have gotten out.?

Brooga held still and closed her eyes to slow the flow of her tears. She had been right. And now she was confused, horribly confused. Why her? Why now? Why was Ulrick's grief a near match to her own? How could she ask him without sounding like she didn't care?

A moment later, Ulrick continued anyways.

?She was a warrior, a hero. She was young and brave, and ? foolish.?

The badger's voice had risen, starting soft and finishing harsh and loud and fierce. The roar startled Brooga, she jumped up and fell back, away from the other woodlander.

?And she reminded me of an old friend who was the same way and who payed the same price, because I couldn't help either of them.?

The roar was gone. Brooga remained where she was, with several feet between her and Ulrick. The badger's voice was quiet again, and then it faded away. The cave was silent, save for the cold drips that fell in dank corners. The island rats had ceased their petty chatterings, Dyera and Cricket had stopped bickering, both feeling it to be in their best interests not to interrupt the angry badger.

Ulrick sighed once more, and then coughed. Brooga moved closer again, and cautiously patted the badger's knee.

?Thurr, 'ee be foine. 'Ee-?

?Che! Lookit ya two, gibberin' an' whinin' like a buncha ol' nannies! Git off yer tails an' obey the Rat Queen! Bring me the brain o' that seamonster-thingy!?

Cricket leaped from the rock she had taken up as her throne for the time being and swung her scepter with all the strength a young rattess could muster. The wood slammed violently against Brooga's back, sending the mole sprawling to the rocky floor. When the mole did not immediately turn and obey, the scepter came down again, again!

Brooga gave a pained grunt as the breath was knocked from her. Her poorly healed wounds burst open again, fresh blood stained her clothes once more. An instant of respite came. The mole rolled and clambered to her footpaws only to see the strangely decorated stick descending towards her again.

Her digging claws met it in mid air, the stick stopped and Cricket gave a jarred grunt.

?Doan't 'ee do that, Miz Cricket. We be toired, and we'll fallow 'ee plan when we be strong enough.?

?Chah! Ya dare defy the Rat Queen! Take that, ya stupid dirt-digger!?

She jerked the stick back towards her, then tried to slam it down across Brooga's broad back a fourth time. The mole's digging claws met it again, closed around it, didn't let go.

?'Ee'll be a dead rat, and queen o' nuthing if 'ee go naow. 'Ee plan be a gud one, but only if we be strong 'nuf.?

?Tch! Stupid Broo-haha...Oy, ya rats! Chop off the dirt-digger's legs an' toss her mangy hide t'the monster. Chii...With any luck, her flaillin' an' caterwaulin'll attract the squid-thing 'long 'nough fer ya t'kill it."

Brooga trembled where she stood, but her footpaws remained where they were and she didn't loosen her grip on the staff. The rats came forward, various spears protruding from their motley group. A noise from behind Brooga and all became still. Ulrick stood.

?Let her be, Cricket. The mole speaks wisely.?

The rats no longer moved forward, their fear for the great badger far outweighing their fear of their new queen, no matter what authority she held over them, at least for the time being. Brooga released the staff, and Cricket yanked it back towards herself.

The mole stood there for a moment, facing the self-proclaimed Queen of the Rats. If it had been lighter in the cave, any beast could have seen that her paws were trembling violently. Had she spoken any more, her voice would have done the same. She had defied Cricket. There had been enough death for one day. They must rest, must remain alive until they had their chance.

For now, the Queen of the Rats would have to wait.