Baptism

[Crue Sarish]

Four days earlier, Crue had been led away from the sacrificial grounds and rejoined the mongoose tribe as the High Priest?s ?honored guest.? Since that time, Shuga had her kept busy with seemingly menial tasks. She collected food for the tribe?s use as well as for their tribute to the Fire God, often climbing trees to gather the ripest fruits. She helped the priests clean and restock the shrines out in the jungle, and at the same time she learned about the lesser gods that the shrines provided for. She ran messages between various members of the tribe, allowing her to learn many of the names of the mongooses.

In line with her profession, she was even permitted to spend a couple of hours with a female who took on the role of a healer when needed, and Crue was able to glean bits of information regarding the plants that were used. The only time she felt relaxed in those three days was when she watched Moka crush leaves and stems, taking in the scent of the exotic plants while being taught the names and qualities of each. If the day came where the threat of imminent death no longer loomed over her head, Crue thought she might actually enjoy staying on the island to learn more.

However, she worried every day about the others who were stuck in Dead Rock. She had no way of knowing whether or not any of them were still alive. Shuga claimed that those who entered the ?Hellgates? perished in fire and brimstone. Regardless how much she told herself that it was just a metaphor, she couldn?t stop the worst-case scenarios that ran through her brain from time to time.

When she was not out delivering dirt to the colliers or cutting lengths of twine for spear-makers, Crue was often kept under Shuga?s watchful eye. Unless he was busy with personal matters, he was diligent to ensure she kept her mouth shut regarding the Captain Blade?s identity. She?d agreed not to reveal the events that had transpired at the sacrificial grounds, and she intended to keep Shuga from finding an excuse to make her the next sacrifice to the Fire God.

In the closet Shuga had designated for her use, Crue was growing accustomed to sleeping on the ground. She would have preferred an extra blanket to go between her and the dirt floor of the mongoose den, but Shuga had decided that such luxuries were wasted on the ?teeny beastah.? Regardless, she found herself resting quite well after the previous day?s work.

Mid-morning on the fourth day, Shuga - with Crue in tow - and a small entourage traveled to Dead Rock. The High Priest was to confer with the Fire God, conveying the mongoose?s tribute and gratitude as well as gain wisdom and instruction from their deity. Bone rattles shook, small drums were beat, and Shuga led his followers toward the mountain as their fervor grew with every step. When they reached the entrance to the mountain, Shuga turned to address his people.

?I go to honor the Fiyah Gott, ayah!? he called out, raising his paws into the air.

?Fiyah Gott! Fiyah Gott!? the mongooses shouted out excitedly. ?Honah te Fiyah Gott!?

?Te powah ef te Fiyah Gott weel speer me from mountain ?ellgates. No beastah enter an? live ?cept under ?is powah!? He lowered his paws and turned toward Crue, who was fully prepared to wait outside with the crazed brutes. ?Teeny beastah has asked to speek te Fiyah Gott and I tek ?er wit? me. If ?e weesh, she weell enter mountain ?ellgates an? no die.?

One of the mongooses showed mild concern upon hearing that Crue might die in the mountain, but the rest remained caught up in their state of religious fervor, their eyes only for the priest. Crue also looked up at Shuga curiously, but said nothing to contradict him. He doesn?t want me running loose in the village, and he doesn?t want me tampering with his zealots. I?d be flattered he finds me such a threat if it wasn?t so annoying!

Shuga led her inside, through the wide atrium and along the winding network of tunnels that she vainly attempted to catalog as they walked. After a while one of the tunnels ended in a large bronze wall with three guards keeping watch over the closed door. Upon their approach, one of the guards knocked. As the door opened, Shuga addressed the squirrel. ?You steh out he?ah.?

?As you wish,? Crue replied with only the smallest hint of sarcasm before he left her with the guards.

?I ne?er knew squirrels make good pets,? a burly stoat remarked when the door was shut. Noting the ceremonial robe, sash, and necklace Crue wore, he prodded the surly weasel to his left. ?Yer lil? dubbin could dress ?er up ?n put ?er on a shelf.? The weasel cracked a small smile, which encouraged the stoat further. ?Ye know, I used t? ?ave a newt ?bout the size o? ?er ?ead. Won?er if a squirrel could live off bugs like ?e did.?

?Don? talk ?bout food, Surly,? the other stoat grumbled. ?I got no breakfast thanks t? this post!?

?Aye, Bruce,? the first stoat replied, ??bout time fer a nip.? He took two steps closer to Crue, who was more put off by his smell than his words. ?An? I see some?un not doin? nothin?.?

Crue looked over at the stoat, her expression neutral. ?I was instructed to stay here.?

?The Cap?n ?ll be a while. You get us some grub right quick ?en yer owner?ll never know the difference.? His grin turned a shade vicious as he added, ?If ye don?, I?ll ?ave t? punish ye for tryin? t? escape.?

The healer read between the lines. Doomed if I do, doomed if I don?t. ?How do I find the kitchen??

After a brief set of instructions that mostly consisted of ?ask someone if you get lost,? she set off at a brisk pace toward the kitchen. How the mountain could have so many tunnels going every which-way, she couldn?t guess, but a corner of her mind wished she had the time to find that out. She did her best to find the tunnels that the stoat had told her about, but spent a fair amount of time looking for and asking the occasional passer-by for directions. Many assumied she was a slave out for a lark until she told them that Surly had sent her on this task. He probably intended for me to lose my way and fall down a shaft, Crue considered. They?re probably having a good laugh about how I?m never coming back.

She didn?t see as many pirates as she thought, but there were definitely enough to keep an eye on her in the dim torchlight. She looked to see who was nearby to ask directions from when she spotted a fluffy red tail disappear around a corner. Picking up her pace to catch up, she saw a vixen pushing a heavy wooden trolley up the path, occasionally grunting with effort. Crue took a closer look and gasped when she recognized her as the one who had been in the cell next to her four nights ago.

?Wait,? Crue called out to the vixen after checking to make sure no one else was in sight. ?I need to speak with you!?

?I?m? busy,? she replied as she pushed.

Crue looked at the large empty cauldron on the trolley and back at the vixen?s lean frame and cloth wrapped paws. The lady?s arms shook slightly with the effort and the squirrel couldn?t help but wonder how long she?d been bearing that burden. ?Let me help.?

When Crue took one of the pawholds, the vixen finally looked over. In an exhausted voice, she asked, ?Are you a new kitchen slave??

?Sorry, but no. You were in the cell next to me in the mongoose pit, but that already feels like an eternity ago to me.?

?Tell me about it.?

The two began to push the cart up the slope and Crue thought she could see a twinge of relief on her cohort?s face. ?I?m Crue.?

?Vera,? the vixen responded.

When Vera didn?t say anything else, Crue searched for a way to continue the conversation. ?So, what do they have you doing here??

?Waste disposal? All Blade?s men take their garbage and put it in this pot here. Just add a bucket of water, a pinch of despair, and a dash of false hopes, and I deliver them a one-course meal fit for the fine folks working the mines.?

Crue was taken aback by the bitterness of Vera?s response. ?The slaves are fed garbage??

?Close enough.? In a sudden burst of annoyance, Vera stopped and rounded on Crue. ?What is it you want? No one helps anyone but themselves here, so you must want something.?

Guiltily biting her lip, Crue responded, ?All I want is to know if my friends are still alive.?

Vera sighed and resumed pushing the trolley forward. ?Who is it you?re looking for?? Crue gave a brief description of Robert, but she seemed to know all of the others. Vera?s face fell a bit and the squirrel reluctantly asked how many of them had died. ?Unfortunately, they?re all alive.?

Crue heard the word ?alive? before her mind registered the ?unfortunately.? Ears twitching slightly in confusion, she asked, ?What do you mean??

?Some of your friends are working for Captain Blade, but most are working in his brimstone mine.?

The healer?s mind was brought back to her book, From Bane to Balm, remembering a chapter dedicated to the dangers and benefits of brimstone. While it had its uses, the means used to acquire it came at great risk and often great harm to the miners. The image of Robert, paws covered in sores and every breath a small torture in itself, came unbidden to her mind and she froze. Robert! her mind shouted. Tooley! Reedox!

Vera saw the horror on Crue?s face. ?I take it you know a thing or two about brimstone.?

Crue nodded. ?How long are they down there??

?Sunrise to sundown.?

?No!? Tears began to flow as she shook her head. I need to do something, I have to find a way to help them.

She went over the symptoms that one would exhibit by touching and breathing in brimstone and wondered if there was anything that could be done to lessen its effects or heal the current damage it caused. Despite not having her supplies, she ran through her mental catalogue of every herb she could think of and weighed whether or not it could be of use. One after another, after another failed to measure up and the only cure she could come up with was ?get them out of there!? Roughly translated, Crue knew she could do exactly nothing.

Feeling the oncoming loss of composure, she continued pushing as she tried to keep talking, though the strain in her jaw made speech slightly difficult. ?What happened to Plink and Scully? Chak and Tooley??

Crue was glad to hear that Plink was alright and somewhat less pleased with Tooley?s assignment. Hearing that Chak had once more been tasked with maintaining discipline among the slaves, her brow furrowed and the fur on the back of her neck stood on end. Was the otter a less than appreciated crewmate as the fox before her, given a job he now found distasteful? Or did he return to the comforting embrace of old habits? She chose not to make a judgement until she found out more.

?Um? have you... talked with them??

?No, not really.?

Her claws clenched painfully around the pawhold as she whispered, ?Are there any plans for escape??

Vera shrugged, though whether she didn?t know or didn?t want to say in public was a toss-up. Crue didn?t know Vera. The vixen had been aboard the corsair ship when Blade attacked. For all she knew, she would inform Captain Blade or Shuga of their conversation after Crue left.

They passed the rest of the time in silence until they arrived at the kitchens. Another rat was in the room, peeling potatoes while a nearby pile of carrots waited their turn. Clus sneered at Vera when she entered, but paused when Crue and her priestly garb followed her in.

Before the rat could speak up, Crue wanted to make sure she completed the task Surly set out before her and asked Vera for a bit of food for the three guards. As the vixen showed her, Crue grabbed what she needed and turned to leave. She was halfway to the door when she realized that the cook might provide the only chance the healer would have of contacting her comrades, and she formed a hasty plan.

Vera fiddled with the bandages on her paws and wincing in pain. Sympathizing with the cook, Crue took a few steps toward her before calling out, ?Let me take a look.?

Vera stopped, but her eyes flicked in Clus?s direction. ?I really should be getting back to work.?

Crue looked straight at Clus, summoning her best ?I know what I?m doing and will brook no argument? expression. ?As a healer, I can assure you that less pain will lead to greater productivity. The less she hurts when transporting food, the faster she?ll be.?

Vera?s expression hinted that she wasn?t so sure Crue?s claim was as beneficial as the squirrel claimed. She laughed nervously. ?Not that I was complaining.?

Despite the rat?s obvious position of authority, Crue was determined to keep him from interfering. After the span of three silent breaths, she walked over to the vixen and told her to sit down. Gently removing the bandages, she looked to see if there was any sign of infection. She made a concerted effort to mutter under her breath, click her tongue in disapproval, and twitch her tail from side to side.

In the few seconds that her tail blocked her face from Clus?s line of sight, she whispered to Vera, ?Can you get a message to a friend for me?? She moved her tail and prodded one of the smaller blisters. ?Does it hurt there?? she asked, giving Vera a meaningful look.

Vera nodded. ?Stop poking it!?

?Sorry,? Crue apologized, satisfied with the answer. She had no clue whether or not she could trust the vixen to deliver a message. Vera could turn right around and accuse Crue of being a conspirator, but with her limited options Crue had to take that risk. She bent over Vera?s handpaws again, her tail continuing to twitch, occasionally near her face. ?Tell Robert or Chak? Crue has a plan??

Crue stood back up and finished her message at a normal volume. ?It will take some time? but you will be fit as a fiddle if you take care of yourself.?

Vera nodded and all Crue could do was pray that her message would make it to at least one of them. She removed the white sash from her waist and grabbed a clean knife before she cut the fabric into strips. She cleaned Vera?s paws with water before gently wrapping them, ensuring there was a little extra padding for comfort.

Knowing she would have to run to make it back to Surly in a reasonable amount of time, she briskly gave last minute instructions. ?Now, use lavender and chamomile for the blisters. I must be going.?

Not waiting for a response, she left the kitchen and set off for Captain Blade?s quarters where Shuga would be waiting for her return. She did her best to stave off the images of her friends facing their grim fate as she traversed the tunnels that led through the mountain. It was a difficult exercise, replacing unwanted thoughts with less distressing ones. She also had to avoid getting in the way of the beasts who roamed the tunnels as they went about their business, sneering and jeering at the squirrel who walked by.

Arriving back at Blade?s quarters, she handed the bag of food to Surly. Crue carefully kept her emotions from showing around the guards as she waited for the meeting to conclude. They leered and continued to poke fun at the squirrel, but their words fell on deaf ears.

The door opened from the inside and Crue was able to catch a glimpse of the room?s inhabitants. Not only had Blade and Shuga been speaking, but another sharply dressed grey ferret reclined on a plush couch in the room as she waited for the mongoose to leave. Crue recognized her as one of the beasts that had shared a cell with Vera in the pit. The door was held open by a hideously disfigured beast that an appalled Crue could barely tell was once a hare. Looking away from the poor wretch, she heard a mirthful laugh come from both Blade and Shuga, as if whatever joke had been told was the height of the afternoon?s merriment.

Four days ago, she came to blame Blade for this entire chain of events. Captain Blade, the notorious ?King of the Pirates,? the bane of the coastal regions, and the sworn enemy of Badgerlord Atlas Stormstripe. It was this beast?s cunning that drove Atlas to madness, whose treasure had sparked this cursed expedition, and whose scheming had ultimately led to the deaths of scores of Waverunners and corsairs alike. By proxy, his paws were stained with the blood of Daggle, of Reedox, of Twilbee, and on and on and on.

In a sudden moment of clarity, Crue realized she could understand why Chak had killed Daggle, beating him to a bloody pulp before finishing him off. She?d seen Chak at his worst, but eventually witnessed acts of remorse, of selflessness, and she questioned whether or not her assessment that the otter was not deserving of redemption was premature. No such questions existed in her mind regarding Blade, who seemed to display only mirth and arrogance. All beasts had the right to live, and Crue maintained that ideal even now. She simply added an addendum to her philosophy, noting that rights could be forfeited by those who abused them.

It would take a beast like Chak to take down a monster like Blade, and as much as Crue wished to see the ferret?s body sink into the depths of the ocean, she knew in her heart that that was something she could not accomplish herself. It wasn?t so much her compassion that would hold her back; she simply doubted she could get close enough to poison his drink, let alone stick a knife in his back.

On the other paw, Shuga was another beast. While the mongoose trusted her about as much as Blade did, he kept her close. She saw that behind his mask of piety was another pirate hoarding his treasure, only instead of gold and jewels it was power he coveted. The Fire God?s mask would be difficult to remove, so she decided to focus on removing Shuga?s.

She only hoped she could win over the villagers before it was too late.