Under the Whip

[Chak Ku'rill]

The small group of castaways was surrounded on all sides in a matter of seconds. A scarred warrior pointed a spear with a long machete-like blade at Chak?s face, and everywhere the otter looked, grim-faced savages rattled bones and blades. One of the beasts with a set of long fangs arching over his knuckles pointed fiercely at the bodies of the four beasts that had attacked them earlier, giving significant looks to certain more brightly adorned warriors. One of these gave a coughing hiss, nodding purposefully at Chak and Robert?s bloodied weapons and making a slashing gesture.

Chak let his club drop to the ground with a thud, lifting his paws up in surrender. A blur of movement and one of the savages was there beside him, a yellowed viper skull staring with empty sockets from atop the beast?s head. Claws frisked Chak?s sides eagerly, and before he knew it the creature had snatched both his dagger and Minstrel's dirk. He hopped away in a flash of fur, leaving behind only the scent of musk-coated decay.

Another wild beast wearing bright feathers jutting out from beaded shoulder bands searched Robert. 

?Looks like they?re not going to kill us outright at least,? Rob noted with a shrug and a less-than-reassuring smile.

Chak secretly hoped the hedgehog?s words would not curse them.

He cast a look at Crue to see how she was faring. She trembled as a painted savage felt her up and down with his paws, relieving her of a small knife and making a chortling comment to his companions when he found a wad of squashed berries in her apron pocket. Her twitching, bushy tail also seemed to amuse the savages.

Beyond Crue, Tooley?s fixated glare caught Chak?s eye. All of the weasel?s attention seemed to be on the slave driver rather than the jungle beasts currently threatening them, which was disturbing. He hardly noticed the knife and bundle of sewing supplies being taken from him, though he did react with a small measure of panic when a savage snatched his hat.

The sound of a scuffle drew Chak?s attention, and he noticed with some annoyance that Scrufftail was putting up a fight.

Stupid squirrel is gonna get us all killed.

As fast as the savages were, Scrufftail?s stubborn resistance was almost laughable. He gripped his recently acquired spear with white knuckles, swinging and stabbing frantically. The jungle beasts sibilated and jeered, avoiding the jabs until one snatched the spear easily from the squirrel?s paws. Chak laughed as Scrufftail proceeded to strike out with his claws at any savage that tried to get near. It was somehow satisfying to know that he wasn?t the only one who found the squirrel to be frustratingly obstinate and difficult to handle.

?You?re not helpin? things, Dox!? Robert shouted with an edge of concern. ?Strugglin' will jus' give 'em a reason to kill us!?

But the squirrel was not listening.

Then one of the savages who had been watching with disapproval started toward Scrufftail, lifting a spear with sinister intent. Chak ran forward despite several shouts and seized the shaft mid-thrust. Scrufftail froze with the razor-edged speartip a mere paw?s width from his heaving chest. Chak barely had time to meet the slave?s outraged glare when a vicious blow cracked him across the side of the head, spinning him painfully into oblivion.

*****************************

A throbbing pulse pressed Chak excruciatingly back towards consciousness. Sharp pangs seemed to jab at the backs of his eyes as well as the side of his head. He felt nauseous, and a heaviness pressed against his ribs so it was hard to breathe. He cracked a blurry eye, then blinked both open.

Scrufftail was sitting on top of him. The squirrel smirked, a triumphant glint showing in his eyes.

Chak jerked his arms up reflexively and Scrufftail jumped free, landing just beside him. The sea otter frowned at his paws with confusion. Leather bindings dug deep into the skin of his wrists.

Scrufftail?s paws, on the other hand, moved freely as he strutted back and forth, swinging the braided straps that had once been his bonds.

Chak tried rising to his feet and promptly fell onto his face. His ankles were tied too. He breathed dirt and coughed, throat raw and swollen still from when the savage had tried to crush his windpipe in the first attack. He rolled himself into a crouching position, scrutinizing the cocky squirrel.

?You know,? began the ex-slave, ?when you?re humiliated, there?s not usually a way to get back what you?ve lost. No way to repay that debt. ?Cause even if you kill your tormentor, it still feels like he got away with something. Some part of you.? Scrufftail stretched the bindings with his paws. ?More than anything you want him to feel what you felt. To have his pride and self-respect stripped away along with his hide.? Scrufftail snapped the woven strands of leather. ?I?ve been waiting a long time for a chance like this. Three years, to be exact. Three years you stole from me, Chak Ku?rill. Years I will never get back.?

A familiar voice spoke up from behind the bamboo bars to Chak?s right, ?Reedox, don? be a fool! You?re free ? you can climb these dirt walls ? why are you wastin' our chance o' freedom with gettin' revenge? Get out o' here an' save us all!? It was Robert.

Another familiar voice, higher pitched, called out from the bars on the left, ?Do it! Get the bilgedog! He needs ta pay for what he?s done!? Tooley rattled the bamboo angrily.

?Great,? thought Chak, ?an audience.?

Scrufftail?s eyes narrowed as he coiled the whip round and round a paw. ?You never passed up an opportunity to thrash me in that time, and I?d like to? return the favor.?

Chak scowled. ?Yarrr! Stop yammerin? an? put yer muscle whar yer mouth be, Scrufftail. I cain take whate?er ye dish out.?

?For the last time, my name is REEDOX!? the squirrel shouted, leaping at the slavedriver and lashing him right and left with the corded leather.

Chak lifted his tied paws so the whip struck his forearms rather than his face. ?Is that all ye got?? He grinned defiantly.

?I?ll flay the fur off your back, you devil!? Scrufftail bellowed, sinking his claws into the back of the corsair?s shirt to tear it away.

Alarmed, Chak tried to grab the squirrel with his joined paws as one sleeve of the shirt tore down the seam. ?Arrrr! Leave off, ye mangy dungbie!? He swung his fists angrily at the squirrel.

Scrufftail sprung out of reach, circling Chak and ripping at the worn fabric with his raking claws.

?Clawr ?im ta pieces!? Tooley shrieked, egging the squirrel on.

?Would you stop already?? Robert pled. ?You?re jus? gonna draw their attention!?

The two beasts spun around each other in a twisted dance, Chak trying to catch the nimble rodent while Scrufftail circled behind over and over again, scoring a scratch here and a tear there. Chak?s already pounding head throbbed more intensely as dizziness skewed his vision. He lunged for the squirrel and crashed, sliding across the hard-packed earth.

Before he could recover, another ripping sound made Chak?s breath catch, and the brisk sensation of sudden exposure across his back made him shudder self-consciously.

The squirrel halted abruptly and silence fell.

Chak breathed hard and hoarsely, glaring at the ground, unwilling to lift his eyes.

After several minutes, the sea otter finally looked up to discover Scrufftail had retreated from the cell. The otter shuffled over to the wall made of rock and dirt and pressed his bare back against the cool, rugged surface. He chanced a glance at Robert and saw something akin to horror on his face. And even worse? pity.

Chak?s lip lifted spastically. Robert was the last beast he would ever want setting eyes on his weakness. Somehow, losing the hedgehog?s respect seemed worse than any flogging Scrufftail could have ever inflicted. The sea otter drew his knees up to his chest and curled his tethered arms over his bowed head.


*****************************


The young otter dripped saltwater onto the deck. Deadfang stood over him wearing that telltale stretched, open-mouthed expression that accompanied the worst of his chronic toothaches, which meant a bad day for any slave, let alone a slave who outright disobeyed him. Chak knew he was in deep trouble. Not only had he left without permission ? he had been gone for hours. Hours of searching, searching, searching.

?Went fer a leisurely swim did ye?? The fox grabbed the half-grown pup by the scruff and lifted him up to meet his red-rimmed eyes. ?Thought ye could escape in the middle o? the ocean, did ye??

?No, sir,? the otter answered truthfully, though he reflected that his mother seemed to have finally found a way.

?Ye think ye cain jus? take off any time ye please?? The fox struck him across the face. ?Ye think this be some sort o? pleasure cruise?? He struck him again.

Chak did not cower or apologize as he should, being lost in another world. Images of his mother kept playing in his mind. Her face had been so soft and kind in life, albeit marked by sorrow. She had lasted far longer than others from the old clan, teaching Chak the best way to chisel the fouling from ships without brushing against the sharp shells, and how to remain calm while others thrashed and panicked. She had even managed to acquire a small pair of mesh gloves to keep him safe while they worked, though how she had managed that was a secret she had never divulged.

When Chak had finally found her out on the water, she was hardly recognizable. At first he thought it must be murder, but then he saw the wrist wounds.

Why had she decided to give up now, after all this time?

Blood filled Chak?s nostrils after a third blow. He felt his eye swelling too. Pain. What was more pain at this point? It didn?t matter.

The young otter?s non-reaction appeared to irk the fox slavedriver far more than outright resistance. He threw Chak to the deck and pulled out his short chabuk whip.

?I be teachin? ye a lesson ye won? soon be fergettin, ye scummy li?l miscreant.?


*****************************


The fox had been true to his word, inflicting wounds so numerous and severe that Chak was like a deadbeast for a week after, aware enough only to swallow water and a little gruel. The beasts assigned to care for him complained, as it took from their free time. They were all certain he would die.

But Chak defied them all and lived.

It was the last time, he decided, that he would be a victim. And, unlike his mother, who had oft spoke of a better life and longed to return one day to her far-away home, Chak would not let himself dwell on dreams and false illusions. He would not allow despondency to turn him into a half-eaten corpse.  Life was hard. Life favored the strong. He would adapt. He would rise above it all, like oil to the surface.

Chak felt the knots of his long, naked scars touch against stone and roots. He had spent so many years fighting and clawing his way to the top, and here he was at the bottom again. It made him want to scream. He worked his wrists, managing to return some circulation to his paws, but little more.

The stink of the prison pit wafted around him, and it reminded him of another humiliation in store for them all if they remained here long enough. There was no privacy in prisons. He wondered how the privileged Robert would handle it. Chak chanced another glance at the hedgehog who sat staring out the bars opposite the otter?s cell. Robert liked to pretend he understood them all, but Chak doubted he had ever really experienced true hardship. He was just a homely woodlander, and now, just another captive.

But no, Robert was more than that. He was something? nobler. He had a clarity to him that was beyond the sea otter?s understanding in addition to a veteran?s strength. A part of Chak wanted to bring the hedgehog down so that he would not feel so... tainted. But a greater part of him wanted the kind-hearted warrior to succeed and overcome ? to prove there was a better way to live life that did not require abandoning one?s self to less honorable paths in order to survive.

Robert turned and caught the sea otter?s eye, giving Chak a curt, reassuring nod before leaning his quills back against the bamboo and settling into a resting position. Chak blinked as the realization dawned on him that Robert might actually still respect him, despite what he had seen. The hedgehog was not a pirate, after all.

Chak rubbed his shoulder blade against a rock where it itched. The fur had not grown back for the most part, and where it did, it grew wrong. But his skin was tough. Tough enough to endure nineteen years of slavery, and tough enough to endure this present captivity.

A roach scuttled across the floor and he mashed it reflexively with his trussed footpaws. The thing did not die, however, and continued in a more frantic, albeit crippled manner. Chak lifted his paws again, hovering menacingly over the struggling insect, sensing that familiar feeling of power over another?s life.

Protect them.

It was an insect. A pest. It didn?t deserve to live.

You did something no other slavedriver would have done.

Chak lowered his feet back to the ground and reached out his paws. The roach crawled onto the rough, calloused pads and froze apprehensively. The otter lifted the damaged bug to the wall and waited until it found a good grip. He watched as it slowly and painstakingly made its way up to the top of the pit, and escaped over the edge.

Satisfied, Chak turned his attention to freeing himself, starting with the leg bindings. If he had to start over, he would start over. He could endure. But perhaps this time, he could take the higher road.