Points of Authority

[Rousseau]

Rousseau followed closely behind Captain Alan Blacktip, her arms crossed as the mink led her through the maze of grey and onyx corridors that made up the mass of Kotir.  Their path was lit by the few torches put out for the night, the orange glow of the flames casting tall, monstrous shadows of the duo along the sides of the stone bricks.  It had only been logical that the two captains had been selected as the beasts to discuss with the wolves on their lead with the mysterious deaths that had been occurring and, although they would leave out this detail, their plan to go to the water rat camp and hopefully kill the beast that would solve this time warped fiasco.

Alan harrumphed as they arrived at the door of the two rulers? bedchamber. ?You wanna knock, or shall I do the honors?? he asked.  Rousseau shrugged, more interested in the ornate carvings etched into the door?s oaken frame.

?And wot are we askin? them about so late at night, anyway? I still don?t see the point o? this,? Rousseau asked, tracing a claw through one of the shallow crevices that made the image of a wolf?s head in the soft wood.  She couldn?t help but admire the craftsmanship that had been invested into its design.

?Oh you know, how the weather is, when they?re planning cubs, who their decorator is?  What do you think we?re going to ask them?  We?re informing them about our recent discovery concerning the deaths, and our intent to follow the lead.?

?And are we goin? t? tell them wot happened t? Luka?? the rat snarled.

?Certainly.  Be my guest.?

?Here now,? Rousseau barked, ?an? what d?ya mean by that??

Alan, about to knock on the door, lowered his paw. ?Any Captain worth two tail feathers stands by their soldiers in a battle.  The limper wasn?t even a soldier.  If you?re so down about it, you?d think you?d have tried a little harder. ? Alan looked at the floor as he said this, but his words were a steel dagger that penetrated Rousseau?s flesh.

Rousseau clenched her fist.  She wasn?t usually bothered by insults but Alan had a special way of saying things. ?Are ya sayin' that 'im dyin' is my fault?"

Alan didn't answer and knocked on the door. ?Lady Kovari, Lord Tirian, permission to enter??

?Blacktip?? a female voice called.

?The very same.  Rousseau is with me, you know, that bumbling Captain from Terramort.?

Rousseau clenched her teeth.

?Come in.?

Rousseau followed the mink as he pushed open the door and stepped inside.  The wolves? bedchamber was at least twice the size of The Crimson Lass? galley, with a huge burgundy and gold carpet stretched across the floor.  The dressers, wardrobes, nightstands, and other furniture were all polished ornate wood that looked almost a chestnut brown, and the bed was set on a tall wooden frame, the think, comfortable blanket on top of the mattress mirroring the same designs as the door and weaving an elegant tapestry of color and artistry into the room.  The wolves were the very symbol of royalty. Majestic, regal, and full of themselves, they sat on a large sofa by a crepitating blaze in the fireplace, not bothering to acknowledge the two captains who had stepped into their presence.

Kovari spoke. ?Captain Blacktip, we can start by asking you where you were today and why you skipped out on your duties? You should know as a captain of the guard, it would be imperative and logical to take care of your responsibilities.?

?Perfectly imperative and logical.  I shall see to it at once,? Alan lied.

?And Captain?? Kovari nodded in Rousseau?s direction.

?Rousseau,? the rat answered.

?Captain Rousseau.  For somebeast who wishes to make a good impression on us and establish a diplomatic relationship between our two parties, disappearing all afternoon wasn?t the brightest thing to do.  I?ll ask you the same question, where were you??

Rousseau thought for a moment.  ?Me, the owl Clutus, Rexim, and Luka all went on a little, er, expedition ya could say, inside o??? The rat did Rexim a favor and caught herself before she could mention his tunnel, ??the forest.  I ?ad been told about the recent disappearances you beasts ?ad been complainin? about, an? in order t? establish trust between us both,? she continued fibbing like she had never fibbed before, ?I personally asked fer volunteers in order t? scout the forest and look fer such beasts.  Rexim volunteered fer some reason or other, I don?t know what?s goin? on in that beast?s head, Clutus was our guide, an? Luka was our cook fer lunch.  I figured that if we could find them, then we could possibly be on lighter terms.?  

She smiled in satisfaction.  

?Oh,? Kovari said. ?Well, then, I?m sorry for any assumptions, captain.? The balance of the world was restored once more.  She was afraid that it would be impossible to steady the weights of her supernatural mission to save her own skin and her duties to establish the alliance between Kotir and Terramort.  She had already decided that it was more important to stay alive, but, like a normal beast, wished she could stay alive and keep her pride in the eyes of her superiors.

?Do tell them what happened to our dearest Limper,? Alan said.  ?They might like to know why breakfast will be late tomorrow.?

Had Rousseau not left her sword in Kotir?s kitchens, it would have been stuck inside the mink?s stomach.  

?What??

Rousseau gulped.

?And what happened to Luka?? Tirian said.

The rat paused.  All eyes were on her. ?We think we found the ones that ?ave been killin? everybeast,? Rousseau said, sweating. ?Ya see, after we were headin? back t? the castle, we were ambushed and Luka? Luka stayed behind t? buy the rest of us enough time t? get away.?

Kovari stood up and took a step forward.  The wolves were more menacing when they were closer to you, Rousseau realized. ?The Limper?s dead??

?Yes, ma?am.?

?But, you think these beasts and our ?ghosts? have a connection??

?Yes, ma?am.? She nodded, wanting to back up from the wolf lady. ?We got a good look at ?em, and it was a group o? water rats. And me and Alan were hopin? we could pursue them more tomorrow.?

?Water rats?? The two wolves paused, as if contemplating something. ?Your request is out of the question.?

?Yes my Lord.?   This time, it was Alan?s turn to speak. ?But I would like you to know that I have personally chosen the most elite for the job and I can assure you, were I not confident, we would not ask.? Even Rousseau was astonished by the lie.  Most elite? If that?s how you describe two captains, two architects, a slave beaver, and a rabbit barely older that twelve seasons.

?No more questions,? Lord Tirian answered. ?You are both dismissed and it would be advised that you both take care of your duties tomorrow.  As for you, Rousseau, I assume that you will repay us in some fashion for what happened to Luka.  Losing the head cook during the preparations for the feast next week is going to set us far behind schedule.  I assume you had a cook aboard your vessel??

Rousseau nodded.  ?Yes, sir. I?ll see to it that he helps with the feast preparations.?

?Good.? Lord Tirian waved his paw for the two captains to leave.

They were both silent as they made their way to the door.

?Oh, and Rousseau?? Tirian said.

She turned. ?Yes, sir??

?It would also be advised that you don?t lie to us again.  That is all.?

With a single wide eye, Rousseau stepped out of the room and back into the hall.  She shut the door, probably faster than she should have. Immediately she rounded on Alan. ?Everythin? was goin? perfect ?til you butted in!  Why?d you have to tell them that Luka went an? got ?imself killed??

?I don?t know if you?ve noticed, but creatures tend to get aggravated when beasts vanish for no reason.  Also, while it would be amusing watching everyone scramble around tomorrow in search of food, I don?t have the time for it, and neither does anyone else.? he replied.

?An' yet we 'ave the time t' ask yer superiors permission to go on an assassination mission.  Not t' mention, yer little statement made them no longer trust me an' blatantly refuse what we were askin'.? she argued.  The mink was infuriating, like a shorter version of Captain Zihark.  ?Fer some beasts who obviously don?t wanna die, we seem t? be askin? permission fer a lot o? things. Why we haven?t simply left yet is beyond me.?

?Well, then I suggest you make preparations to get your duties completed tomorrow.  You have a crew that can fill in for you, correct??

?Aye, but they hate me.?

?Ah the life of a Captain,? the mink replied. ?I?m going to get the others, be ready to leave in an hour.  This time, keep your eyes open, because I won?t be the one staying behind you to die.  I?ll keep you with me.? Without another word, he walked back in the direction of the kitchens, leaving her in the emptyness of the hallway.

Rousseau gritted her teeth. Who did he think he was?  What gave him the right to hold his head higher than everybeast else?  She lowered her head.  And what made him always right about everything?

-.-.-

Rousseau rummaged through the clutter of her quarters, pulling out papers and various articles of clothing from the semi-organized piles that littered the floor and the tops of drawers.  Stuffing her needed materials into her haversack, she threw on her naval jacket and moved to where the easel stood in the corner.  She stopped her task for a moment, looking at the sketchbook that was balanced on the ledge of it, and opened to the picture she had drawn of the glade at the end of the tunnel.  The last of the grayscale autumn leaves were being held on to by the dark branches of the trees like a treasure so that they wouldn?t be stolen from them by the greedy wind.  The soft white river moved slowly downstream, following its thieving companion.  

It should have been perfect.

The rat sighed.  The beast Inspiration had escaped from her clutches, dead along with Luka.  She hadn?t exaggerated or lied to Captain Blacktip in the kitchens when she had told him she had only been trying to paint. The canvas next to the sketchbook was like some unnatural creature.  Blank and uncolored, no work added whatsoever; it stood like a predator waiting for prey. For once in her life, Rousseau found herself unable to press brush to canvas or think of the balance, contrast, and colors that should be added to create the landscape scene how she had seen it with her own eye. Despite it being drawn right next to her, she couldn?t think of what to do, what to start on, or what it even truly looked like.

Alan Blacktip had been right about what he had said. Luka?s death had been her fault.  That moronic, inconsiderate, holier-than-thou mink had been right. She had been stupid and greedy in her haste to get back to her world of canvases and brushes, not taking the time to investigate the sounds she had heard or to look for any other water rats that could have been in the tunnel.  

She grabbed up a piece of parchment and her stick of charcoal and began writing down a quick letter.

Will,
If you needed me yesterday, I?m sorry, I got caught up with an expedition through the forests for some more lumber for the scaffolding and so I wasn?t here all day.  And, because I know you won?t believe that, I?m sorry if I appear like a madbeast in the coming days, but something is happening that I wish I could tell you. That way I might be able to have one more beast on my side.

Which would bring her grand total to one.

She continued writing. But, I can?t and so I?m merely going to beg that you don?t question me, and that you please do what I ask.  When you read this, cover for my work the best you can.  I?ve already finished the status logs that needed to be done; they?re on my dresser by the paint. Please lie explain to the crew that I?m helping in certain important tasks with the head architects and captains out in the woodlands. Also, please ask Cal to help with the feast preparations and take over the kitchen duties in Kotir for the moment.  Tell him I?m sorry for asking him this.

Rousseau noticed how much she said the word ?please.? She continued writing.

Also, if I receive any letters while I?m gone tomorrow, put them on my easel. Oh, and Will. Thank you.

If she ever returned to Terramort, she would make sure Reginald gave the weasel a promotion. Willump obeyed every order she gave him, made sure she got her work done while even doing half of the captain?s duties, and was the only beast in the fleet who managed to stand with her when others would leave.  He deserved the promotion.  No, he deserved a medal.

She smiled and looked down.  Vulpuz stared back at her from where she had set his unfinished face on the floor.  

?I bet yer havin? a good laugh right now, aren?t ya?? she stated to the god of the underworld.  Luka had told her that they were all just simple pawns in Vulpuz?s game, used so that he wouldn?t have to get his paws dirty himself.  Rousseau thought of Reginald.  In the end, everybeast was just among the used, regardless of who they were.  Luckily for her, she was already used to the feeling.

Vulpuz smirked at her, issuing a challenge with his curious eyes.

Rousseau accepted it with a smile.  ?I?ll be goin? home, ya kin bet that.  I won?t be dyin? here.?

The wondrous, crimson eyes sparkled, beautiful and mystical.

Throwing her haversack over her shoulder, she kicked over the painting facedown.

She much preferred them on Clutus.