Let Steel Do The Talking -- By Aldridge and Kentigern

[Zevka]

~~The following post is a collaboration between~~
Kentigern MacRaff and Aldridge Moor

A hare and a stoat walked into a bar.

Not at the same time, you understand.

Kentigern MacRaff stood at the bar with Sly Speakeasy, swapping stories of foes old and new, tales of wars and bars long past.

?...Not much more you can expect from the beaver, really,? Sly was saying.

?Hellgates!? Kentigern swore, loud enough that the hubbub of the Winners? Lounge ebbed for a moment. He lost his volume and scowled at the vole either in outrage or sympathy? nobeast could tell which. ?A beaver, ye say? Ah dinnae ken of ?em, but he doesnae sound like a woodlander t?me.?

?Aha! You see, Mac, it?s funny because he surely is a woodlander? word is he built his first dam by chewing the tree down all by himself!? Sly chuckled. ?But yes, a villain through and through. Not like us, eh my lad??

But the hare wasn?t entirely listening. His roving eyes landed on a stoat walking to a table in the corner with Thrayjen and the blue-eyed ferretmaid who followed him around. Aldridge Moor, he recalled hearing. The one who?d landed himself a cushy job away from the fighting while his woodlander friends died in the arena.

He leaned in conspiratorially, but failed to lower his voice. ?D?ye ken what ah really detest, laddie? The ones who live among woodlanders. Weaselin? their way in? aye! Ah said weaselin?!? Kentigern turned angrily upon a weasel who had half-risen out of his seat in indignation. ?If ye gotta problem wi? that, ye kin take it oop wi? mah fists!? He raised said fists and waved them menacingly. The weasel quailed under the Highlander?s fury and sat back down, focusing intently on his drink. ?That?s what ah thought,? he sneered. He paused briefly to take a drink before continuing. ?Vermin like that?un?? he gestured vaguely in the direction of the stoat. ?Weaselin? their way in, livin? under an honest beasts roof an? callin? ?emselves friends! Disgustin?!? He spat on the floor and slammed his flagon onto the bar.

The hubbub died down, and every beast had turned to give the drunken hare a wary eye. Sly was visibly edging away from the highlander, who had turned to face the room. ?A vermin who says they?re a woodlander?s friend ain?t nothin? but a liar, pure an? simple.? He punched the bar, but didn?t recoil when his paw connected with the sturdy wood. ?An? any woodlander who says a vermin?s their friend? idiot, or traitor. We?re enemies! Ye kin stay in yer hordes an?... an? we?ll stay in our towns an? we?ll only meet on the battlefield t?spill blood an? that?s the way it?s meant to be. Hellgates! That?s the way it?s always been.? He turned to face Aldridge. The stoat was staring at him with burning eyes, teeth bared. ?Oi? ye lookin? at me, stoat?? Kentigern said, leering. ?Got somethin? tae say??

Aldridge stood slowly, whiskers quivering. ?I lost three friends just a few days hence.? A cool, quiet voice. ?Hunter Tanra, squirrel. Patrolbeast Envar, mouse? Patrolbeast Cricken, squirrel. I feel the loss just as much as you, when you lose one of yours. Don?t you dare stand there and tell me otherwise. Twenty seasons we lived in the same village. I watched Cricken grow up!? His voice guttered; his eyes glistened. Taking a deep breath, he clenched his fists and closed his eyes. After a moment, he opened them and glared at Kentigern. ?I watched him grow up, damn you.?

The hare scoffed. ?And so ye think ye were equals? Ye think ye earned their respect?? A hard bark of laughter and a gulp from his tankard. ?It?s a wee bit funny that ye think they respected ye in the first place. Nae...nae, nae, nae. They didnae respect ye. They couldnae.? He gave Aldridge a vicious sneer. ?Yer a damned vermin. They kept ye aroond ?cause ye could halp ?em.?

Aldridge took a quick step forward. The ferret beside him reached out and murmured something, but the stoat shook stabilising paw off his wrist as his hackles rose. ?Enough. Some of them thought like you, when I first came to Madder Barrow. But I proved myself. I proved them wrong. And now you call them traitors when they?re not even alive to defend themselves. Dead because beasts like you can?t get over their damned bloodthirst.?

?Ye proved ?em wrong, did ye?? Kentigern raised an eyebrow, before shaking his head. ?Nae, ah ain?t buyin? it. Ah?ve haird the story before, more times?n ah kin count. The redeemed vermin, trusted by woodlanders! Ah, but would ye lookit that, the poor vermin ne?er lives in the village proper. Always th?way.? A glimmer of doubt in Aldridge?s eyes, and the hare seized upon it. ?Ach, did ah guess right?? He gave a hearty laugh. ?They dinnae even let ye live near them. Let ye walk tae them. Still scared o? ye. They didnae respect ye? they kenned what ye were, what ye could? nae, what ye would do eventually. So they kept ye at a safe distance.?

The stoat looked uncertain for a brief moment, but then his eyes hardened. ?How dare you. Take all our experiences together, everything we did and every friendship we formed, and call them nothing. Seeing hatred where it doesn?t live any more because you can?t think of anything else! O, Highlander, whither do you wander! Down to the battlefield! Tear them all asunder! Infected with the voice of the sword just like the rest of your ilk! Writing off half the beasts in the world because of the actions of a few! Why?? Aldridge asked, ?because of battles long done? Injuries forgotten lifetimes ago??

?Lifetimes since, eh?? Kentigern?s voice was quiet now, permeating with seething anger. ?Tell that tae the foxes that murdered mah parents. Tell that,? he spat through gritting teeth. ?Tae the stoat? just like yerself? that slaughtered some o? my best friends right before mah eyes. Ah?ve fought hundreds o? battles against bandits an? marauders an? murderers. Ah?ve saved travellers from gangs an? villages from slavers.? His voice began to rise again. ?An? every time, d?ye ken who?s dooin? the vile acts? Vermin, an? only vermin. Vermin?? His mug slammed against the bar like a thunderbolt. ?Who?re just?? He took a menacing step towards the stoat. ?Like?? Another step. He stood now a whisker?s breadth away from Aldridge. ?Ye.? Drawing himself up to his full height, he looked with imposing force down upon the stoat.

?Beasts like Galleran,? Aldridge replied, with obdurate eyes. ?Beasts who live by the same idiot code that anything that doesn?t eat like you is the enemy. Ridiculous. Highlander, Hordemaster - you?re all the same.?

?How dare ye!? The hare surged forward fists-first. The stoat twisted out of the way, and a wild punch glanced off his shoulder instead of cracking his ribcage.

Barkeep Plockette bellowed an awful lot louder than Kentigern had ever heard him speak before. ?Oi! Take it outside or you'll be barred - for life, aye!?

?Alder,? Blue said softly, stepping forward. ?Don?t.?

?Nae,? said Kentigern. ?Ah agree. Let?s take it ootside. Ah insist.? The hare turned to the door. ?Ah feel we both demand satisfaction in this matter. Give th?stoat a blade, an we?ll duel it out, like proper gentlebeasts.?

Aldridge looked at Blue, and sighed, and turned.

?Hracken?? he asked. The rat hesitated, and looked like he was about to say something.

Blue threw a hard glare Aldridge's way, but spoke clear and quiet. "Give him his sword, aye. He means to see this through."

"Kentigern," Thrayjen looked to the hare, pleading silently. But he was ignored, and he cast his eyes down, leaned forward, pulled a scabbarded blade from beneath the table and handed it to the stoat.

Aldridge turned to the hare and they both nodded with grim determination and stepped out into the hallway. Blue, Thrayjen and Sly followed them out.

Ach, we?re tae have an audience, it seems. Kentigern sneered, bringing his claymore to bear. ?Are ye sure ye dinnae wish fer a proper blade??

Aldridge simply clipped his own scabbard to his belt, rolled his shoulders one by one, stared at the outsized sword with its second grip. ?Because of course the great Highlander has a weapon designed for mass murder.?

?An? the stoat holds a Marl blade. How many innocent beasts has that?un killed, d?ye reckin?? MacRaff glared at the still-scabbarded knife at Aldridge?s waist.

?Enough.? Aldridge shook his paws loose, stood with footpaws at shoulder-width.

?Aye,? agreed Kentigern. ?Enough.? He looked at Loft Kris. Dinnae fail me now. 

In the moment of silence that followed, Sly muttered something to Blue about placing a bet; she reached out as though to slap him and he coughed, straightened up and made some excuse.

Kentigern looked at the stoat stretching out his limbs in front of him. Aldridge looked nervous, but his seething eyes were narrow and hard like granite. He raised his eyes to meet Kentigern?s. The hare nodded, and lifted his blade. The stoat drew the Marl knife, a heavy short-sword in his paw, and held it low, to the side.

Kentigern swung hard at shoulder-height. Aldridge ducked under the blow, aiming to drive a punch into the hare?s stomach. The hare stepped back twice, quickly, avoiding it.

He raised an eyebrow. ?Yer truly goin? tae fight off-paw??

The stoat shrugged. ?I don?t wish to kill you.?

?Laddie,? scoffed Kentigern, ?Ah ain?t one tae let mahself die.?

Shifting his grip, he held his claymore like a ram and stepped forward and put his strength and weight into a forward thrust aimed at the stoat?s trunk. Aldridge sidestepped again, this time driving a hard jab directly into the hare?s own off-paw. Kentigern?s paw fell away from the heavy sword, and he brought his now-free elbow hard into the stoat?s side. Aldridge grunted and rolled away.

Kentigern flexed his off-paw and winced. His opponent, also wincing, pressed a paw to his ribcage.

They took up new stances. MacRaff again shifted his grip. His good paw grasped the hilt of the claymore and his other hooked over the cross-guard. Aldridge watched, switching the Marlfox knife to his other paw.

The hare chuckled. ?Ach. Now ah?m tae fast fer ye, eh??

Aldridge merely nodded.

Kentigern swung again, sending a blow streaking up towards Aldridge?s bottom-left. The stoat?s paw whipped round, Marlfox knife making contact with claymore blade and pushing the larger weapon up.

The hare overreached, and Aldridge capitalised. He cracked the flat of his blade on MacRaff?s wrist, and the claymore fell to the ground with an almighty clatter.

?Stand down, sir.? Aldridge lowered his knife, gazing evenly at the hare. Kentigern glared at the stoat. Ah?m nae lettin? a vermin get the best o? me.

Kentigern lunged, driving his off-paw into the stoat?s belly while his guard was down.

Aldridge let out a groan, but took firm hold of the hare?s forelimb and didn?t let go. MacRaff hammered two heavy elbow-blows into his back before the stoat had recovered. Aldridge stepped around the hare with his paw still firmly grasped, yanked it up just short of his shoulders and slammed the hare face-first into the wall.

?Stand down, sir!? Aldridge insisted again.

Kentigern spat onto the floor. ?Ye?ll have tae kill me first.?

Lightning flickered behind Aldridge?s eyes as the hare got a footpaw loose and kicked him in the gut and sent him reeling. Aldridge turned it into a controlled fall, barely keeping his shuddering stomach muscles under control as he rolled backwards and rose to his footpaws again.

Kentigern was upon him immediately, he swung with a ferocity that he knew would take the stoat every instinct to keep up.

Left hook, face. Raise paw to outside of fist, push fist left, duck right.

Right hook, throat. Backpaw blow to outside of fist, push right. Twist shoulder back and away. Move footpaws to match.

Opportunity. Step in, push overextended paw further. Step in, drive fist into sternum.

The hare staggered backward into the wall.

Fire flashed behind MacRaff?s eyes as he threw himself forward and to the side, paws landing on the hilt of the claymore as he executed a painful but textbook roll that he?d not used since the seasons before he?d gained a family.

He stood, paws limber enough to hold the mighty weapon again, and brought it crashing down on the stoat. Three times the stoat parried, visibly wincing as the force of each blow hammered into his paws and joints.

On the fourth, they locked.

And now they were braced against each other, a Marlfox knife holding back a Highlander claymore. Each pushing for supremacy, for survival.

?Filth! Vermin! Coward! Why did ye nae get it o?er with? It?s what ye were made fer! Ye shoulda killed me when ye had the chance. Murderer.?

?Hellgates, will you just shut up!? Aldridge bellowed in his face. ?I would never harm any beast from my village! Not a single one!?

Kentigern couldn?t keep the triumphant snarl from his muzzle. He had gotten under the stoat?s skin. ?Liar. Lookit yer eyes, right now. Ye?ll let every last one o? them die an? ye?ll ne?er even have the courage tae admit it! Three dead, ye said it yerself! It?s yer fault, ain?t it? Ah kin see it all, in yer eyes. Blank, dead, watchin? everything and everybeast. Ye may not be a murderer but ye sure as hellgates ain?t goin? tae help ?em, are ye? Ye only care aboot yerself.?

Aldridge roared, lashed out a fist and knocked him back.

Kentigern staggered back, before planting a footpaw behind himself for balance and steadying his grip on his claymore. ?Ye ain?t what ye think ye are. Yer a vermin, nothin? more, an? it?s mah duty t?see ye dead.? The hare took two quick steps forward and put everything into a heavy swing at shoulder height.

Aldridge wasn?t there. Kentigern looked down to find the stoat?s eyes glinting viciously up at him. His gaze was reflected from something unseeing and visceral. As the stoat twisted the handle of the Marlfox knife, rending the Highlander?s gut, the hare felt blood rise from the back of his throat.

?Ah told ye.? He croaked, as his claymore fell from his paws.

His breath failed him as Moor ripped the knife from his belly, drove it straight back into his sternum. Shoulder. Chest. The blade plunged into the hare?s body. Again. Again. Again.

Time snarled up, becoming everything and nothing all at once. The stoat?s twisted fury flickered in front of his eyes. Kentigern stumbled forward, blood running from his mouth.

But one more moment of rage was all he needed to spit a mouthful of blood into the vermin?s eye, throw one last insult at the beast who had killed him.

?Ah told ye. Ye?? Kentigern fell to the floor, coughing uncontrollably. Blood splattered across the ground. ?Ye ain?t nothin? more.?

-----

Screaming, hissing electricity finally faded from Aldridge Moor?s mind, and he realised one thing as it did.

He had lost.

The hare?s ruined body lay there, that same triumphant snarl locked on his muzzle. Bragging to Aldridge that no matter his self-control, that fury would always boil over in the end, and somebeast would always die. The hare?s life had ended here, because Aldridge had failed.

The Marlfox knife fell from his paw, one more life added to its list.

Paws came to rest on his shoulders - one heavy paw, one light. He turned, and found himself confronted with the haunted faces of Blue and Hracken. The vole who had followed them all out of the bar was stomping his way back in, scowling at the floor and muttering something about poor investments.

?They?ll lock you up for this, aye.? Blue?s eyes were downcast, even as she reached up and wiped the hare?s last insult away from his face. Not quite ashamed, but sorrowful.

Thrayjen's were much the same, but he didn?t speak and instead kept Aldridge?s eye, nodded once. There was empathy there, more than Aldridge first realised. Perhaps more than the rat even realised.

Aldridge unclipped the scabbard from his belt. He handed it to Blue. She picked up the Marlfox knife from where it had fallen, and stepped away.

The guards rushed in, slammed him into the wall, twisted his paws behind his back and locked them together.

He could manage only two words, spoken to the departed hare more than any other.

?I?m sorry.?