The morning chorus of the birdsong in the trees would give anyone who could hear it the impression that a bright and happy day had happened upon the denizens of Tobbac Forest.  The blazing spring sun, and the frisky nip of chill in the air seemed to reinforce the sentiment.  This day was, without a doubt, a glorious one.  The grass was moist with dewdrops and old spider webs, which had survived the winter, were decorated with little droplets of water that hung to the strands like fairy lights on a Christmas tree.

The morning was rough going, however, for the cubs and their slave masters.  First light of dawn had come, and the cubs could not be roused from their sleep.  A discovery was made that too much of the sleeping drug had been used, and they were just going to have to wait for the effects to wear off before they could make any progress.  This had enraged the lead weasel to the point of picking up the lighter cubs and instructing the older ones to be dragged through the forest to make sure they were not late to the meeting point.  This plan lasted little longer than it took to explain it before all three weasels agreed waiting for the drug to wear off would be the best idea instead.  The two underlings went to find a suitable breakfast while the head kept an eye on the sleeping prisoners and started up a small fire to cook upon.  It was not long before breakfast arrived, and soon some meat was being fried up, along with some mushrooms and berries.

The scent of cooking meat travelled through the air until it met Kyyanno’s nostrils.  The cub subconsciously inhaled as much of the odour as possible before his brain started to engage and he was able to greedily inhale as much as he could.  With effort, his body responded to the idea of waking up and soon the cheetah was wide-awake and drooling at the hunk of what smelled like pork that was cooking over the fire.

Slowly the groans of the others waking up could be heard over the sound of frying meat.  The two foxes and the two dogs perked up at once when they figured out there was meat on the breakfast menu.  The two older hedgehogs at once started foraging as far as their bonds would allow them.  Previous experience had told them that while on the move, the weasels were useless at finding their sort of food, and the weasels had learnt that hungry hedgehogs could not be silenced with clubs.  Not if they wanted to sell the hedgehogs on, at least.

The lead weasel seemed to be absolutely furious as he cooked, while both the other weasels looked thoroughly abashed as they pottered around, helping as best they could.  Kyyanno could see his sai blades still around the waist of the boss.  The metal still shone as bright as it had done when Tunza had given them to the young cat, but the cheetah could imagine all the evil the weasel might put the blades through if given the chance.  He allowed a small snarl to pass his lips as he thought about getting them back.  He could feel his fur start to stand on end, and at once he knew this time his rage was not just some playful fight with his brother, it was his first real, unbridled hatred.  It filled him with energy and focus in a way he had never experienced focus before.  It did not seem like the focus of battle, where he would read his brother to second-guess his moves and counter them, but a drive to perform a single task whatever the cost or consequence may be.  

An arm rested upon his shoulders, and instinct nearly drove the feline to attack it.  He fought his senses, however, and instead turned to look at the owner of the arm.  Looking him in the eye was Harvey.  A dark and serious expression was painted on his face.  The dog said nothing, however, he just shook his head slowly and nodded towards the youngest cubs.  They were desperate in their efforts to hide behind Leona and Bristol, wide eyed with terror.  Kyyanno was obviously scaring them.  Seeing their distress made the cheetah calm down at once.  His fur returned to normal and he flashed the brightest and cheerful smile he could muster.  The little ones were not convinced, however, and remained hidden behind the older females.

Before anyone could try to settle the youngest cubs, the weasels served up breakfast in small metal bowls.  They were old and dented, but were light to travel with, and the cubs were always glad to not have to eat directly from the floor.  Having their wrists bound meant the bowls had to be served in front of them and they had to either eat hands-free by plunging their muzzles into the bowl, or use both hands to pick up what they wanted.  

The food for the dogs, foxes, and the cheetah was surprisingly good, which pleased their stomachs greatly but did little to dent Kyyanno’s anger with the chef.  The other two weasels seemed to do whatever he demanded of them without argument or question.  So, Kyyanno thought, it would be reasonable to assume that the largest weasel would bully the two smaller ones into doing his bidding, be it capturing and beating cubs or doing the harder jobs around camp.  The cheetah could feel the hairs on the back of his neck starting to stand up again, so he made a swift choice to concentrate on eating in case he scared the little ones further.

After the meal was finished, the bowls were packed up and the group started the long walk through the forest.  Throughout the meal, no one spoke a word.  The pace of the walk was a fast one, and it did not take long before the smallest creatures found they could not keep up.  Chip, the otter, found the going hardest of all.  He had been forced to eat things he would not normally consume, when all he had wanted was a small fish or two.  The rope around his neck tugged as he slowed down, until he tripped and fell to the ground, almost strangling himself as he landed.  It was at this point Kyyanno was ready to snap.  Lewis, however, snapped first.

The fox was the first in the line, and the rope around his neck was connected to Leona behind him, and the wrist of the lead weasel in front.  Stopping hard, the vulpine gripped the rope in both paws and yanked hard.  The weasel yelled in pain as his arm was whipped behind his back, almost dislocating it from the socket.  Quick as a flash, he grabbed one of the sai blades from his belt and held the points against the fox’s throat.

“What’s ter big idea?” he growled in Lewis’ face.  His teeth were bared and his lips curled into a vicious snarl.

“We either rest or slow the pace,” Lewis snarled back.  His eyes were burning in cold fury, locking with the weasel’s own and daring him to not back down.  “The little ones can’t keep up.”

“Then carry ‘em,” came the growled reply.  “We already be behind and I ain’t stoppin’ or slowin’.  An’ anymore funny stuff like dat, an’ this ‘ere blade goes through yer throat.”

The procession was halted while the youngest jumped into the arms of the oldest.  Lewis took Chip since they were at opposite ends of the rope, while Leona and Bristol each took one of the small hedgehogs.  The larger of the hedgehogs insisted they could keep up with the pace though Harvey offered to carry either of them if they felt they needed it, and the cheetah could have walked to the ends of the world if it meant being able to exact revenge on the chief weasel.  The mini tyrant was going to pay for his crimes, and Kyyanno was going to use the walk to figure out how he was going to even the balance.

The smaller creatures weighed very little, but the older cubs were still youngsters themselves, and it did not take too long before they felt the extra burden too much to bear.  Another small stop was taken, much to the leader’s annoyance, to enable Kyyanno to take Chip and for the two hedgehogs to be given to the two older hedgehogs.  The large weasel silenced any attempt at conversation between the captives during these changeovers and the marches.  The two smaller weasels kept to the back of the group and out of their boss’ way.  The shifts of who was carrying who were alternated with reasonable frequency until the group came to a small lake in the forest.  The sun had gone past its highest point in the sky and was on the way to setting.  The lead weasel growled with anger and halted the walk.  The two weasels scurried to the front of the pack immediately.

“It be too late t’ go around ter lake,” he bellowed at the group.  “You ‘ave made us almost ‘alf a day late.  We camp ‘ere for ter night, an’ we leave at dawn!”

Exhausted sighs of relief greeted his words as the prisoners fell to the ground to rest.  The underling weasels ran off to find firewood and food, while the lead rat kept his eye on the resting creatures.  He kept an extra focus on Lewis.  He could sense that that fox was going to be trouble.  

Before the sun had fully set the weasels had a roaring cooking fire going, and a makeshift tent for the head weasel.  The two underlings and the ten victims had to make their beds in the open air.  The evening air was filled with a moist coldness, and before long the cubs were huddling around the cooking fire to keep warm while the lead weasel was trying to prepare the food for their evening meals.  Along with all the cooking equipment, Kyyanno noticed a jar half-filled with small black seeds.  They stirred a memory in the cheetah’s mind.  Something his father had said once about a seed that could send you to sleep.  Poppy seeds.  The lead weasel saw Kyyanno and put the jar back in his bag, trying to act as if the jar was unimportant.  That confirmed it; the jar was filled with the drug used to put them all to sleep.

“I’m bored,” the cub announced.  “I want to have a bit of fun.  Everyone know the game I Spy?  How about cubs versus weasels?”

“I’s game,” said one of the weasels.

“Conferring allowed?  Otherwise it wouldn’t be fair, the brain of a weasel must be more than a match for the combined brains of ten cubs.”  The weasel nodded and started the game off.

“I spies somethin’ startin’ wit’ T.”

The small creatures huddled together and started whispering.  The young ones offered suggestions while the older ones closed in even tighter.

“What are you doing?” Leona asked in a barely audible whisper.

“Run with me on this.  I’m fairly sure I know how they’re drugging us.  I have a plan,” came the almost silent reply.  The cheetah addressed the smaller ones in a slightly louder whisper.  “Sounds like a good answer, want to go with it?”  The little creatures all nodded, still a little afraid of Kyyanno.

“We think the answer is Trees,” Lewis stated in a loud clear voice.  The weasel groaned as the fox continued.  “I spy something beginning with L.”

“That be easy,” the second underling scoffed.  “Lake, like wot that is over der.”  A stubby digit pointed towards the body of water they were next to.  Before even waiting to see if he was right, the weasel took the next turn.  “I spies wit’ my eyes, F.”  Once again the small creatures huddled together.

“Okay, cheetah,” Bristol whispered as the olders closed ranks for a second time.  “What be your plan.”

“I’m going to cut everyone’s ropes with my claws during the game.  Act as if you’re still tied when they serve us our food, and then I want you to all run around, hang on, someone answer with fur before they get suspicious.”

“Us older ones think it’s fur,” Leona called up from the huddle.

“Ha,” the weasel laughed.  “Wrong.  Guess again!”

“As I was saying,” Kyyanno continued, “I want everyone to run around while the weasel is cooking their food.  They might hit you with a club, but it’ll be a distraction for me to drug their food so they can’t chase us while we make our escape.”

“We think it might be friends,” Lewis called, poking his head out from the huddle.  Kyyanno got to work deftly cutting the ropes while the weasel laughed even longer and let them know they had one guess left.  It took short work to cut the ropes between everyone, and to have them all tucked in, leaving the ropes around the neck like a collar.  Wrist bindings were also cut and then wrapped around to create the illusion of still being tied.  The weasels, who were on the other side of the fire, could not clearly see what was happening and so assumed that the cubs were having difficulty in coming up with a guess.  It was Chip who voiced his answer for this round.

“It’s fire!”

“Blast,” swore the weasel.  His boss silenced him.”

“Go rinse these in t’ lake,” he ordered as he fetched the bowls from the bag and pushed them in to the weasel’s arms.  “Stupid foul-mouth dolt.  If cubs be pickin’ up words like dat, the buyers will ‘ave our ‘eads.”

The weasel grumbled but did as he was bidden.  That signified the game was over, as the meal was about to be served.  The bowls were returned a lot cleaner than Kyyanno had expected, and the cub’s food was dished up.  While they ate, the cheetah watched as the weasel started to prepare the food for himself and his cohorts.  When everything was in the pot and stewing, the feline nudged Leona, who gave a whispered instruction that they were now to slip their bonds and start running around.  Giving cries of glee, the cubs started to race around the campsite.  As quick as a flash, the two smaller weasels had grabbed their clubs and were chasing the cubs, waving their weapons with wild abandon.  The smallest cubs stayed by the fire, cheering their friends on but not wanting to get clubbed.

Being prepared gave the cubs the chance to outrun their opponents.  Clubs were swung without hitting their targets, and the cubs ran in such random directions the weasels could not stick with one long enough to capture it.  After a few minutes the lead weasel lost patience and grabbed his own club.

“Do I have to do everything myself?” he bellowed before going after Lewis.  Kyyanno seized his chance and ran around to the chef’s side of the fire.  Grabbing the jar of poppy seeds from the bag, he emptied a quarter if the remaining amount in to the stew and stirred it well, making sure to return the spoon and jar to where he had found them to avoid making the chef suspicious.  He ran back to where he had been sat to see that none of the cubs had yet been caught.  The only way the weasels could catch anything was with a net, it seemed.

When the cubs had seen that Kyyanno had finished his task, the others returned to their places.  The weasels were exhausted, and the lead was furious with everyone.  He was about to knock Lewis’ head off when the underlings reminded him with a loud shout that the fox was essential for Lord Blacktooth and not to be harmed.  With rage, the club that was due to strike the fox instead was slammed into the guts of the two weasels, bringing them to the ground screaming in agony.  This time both Kyyanno and Lewis had to be stopped from ripping the weasel apart for it was a fight neither of them would have won.

Dishing out three servings of stew, the enraged head tucked into his meal.  In no time at all, he had finished the bowl and retired to his tent.  The two smaller weasels crawled to their bowls and devoured their portions between groans of pain.  Even though they had been aggressive towards the cubs in the past, the captives could not help feeling sorry for them.  Their leader ruled with an iron fist and a short temper.

It did not take too long before the meal was over, and the two weasels had dismantled and cleaned the cooking equipment.  They replenished the firewood to keep everyone warm during the night and then while one of them went to sleep, the other sat down and attempted to keep watch.  No one had tried to retie the cub’s bonds.  The collection of cubs watched as the weasel on watch soon fell into sleep’s embrace.  His eyelids drooped, and a few times he jumped awake before finally falling onto his side, fast asleep.

“At last,” Harvey barked with excitement.  “We’re free!”

“Not so fast,” Kyyanno cautioned.  “The leader might still be awake.”

“I’ll check,” said Chip as he bounded towards the tent.  His small body easily slid inside without being too noticeable.  Moments later he slipped out again with a huge smile on his face.  “I even gave nasty boss slap in silly face,” the otter exclaimed as he returned to the others.  The group cheered.  Some of the group even burst into tears of happiness at the news of finally being free.  The oldest ones, however, did not cheer for too long.

“So,” Lewis said, saying what the older cubs were all thinking.  “Where do we go from here?”

“We rest for the night,” Kyyanno replied.  “First though, I need everyone to see if they can make a raft.  I want to float these two into the middle of the lake if I can.  That should keep them out of our way if they wake before we do.”

The group split up to find suitable things to make the raft from.  Lewis was about to go and help, but the cheetah held him back and led him into the tent where the head weasel was sleeping.  Around his waist sat the pair of sai blades, which Kyyanno swiftly reclaimed.

“My father said killing was the most harrowing and traumatic thing he ever had to do,” the cheetah said in a solemn voice.  “Yet, I don’t feel anything right now.”

“It would be hard to feel compassion for this beast,” the fox agreed.  “You’re not going to kill him, though, are you?”

“I have to,” Kyyanno replied.  “I can’t bear the thought of knowing I had the chance to put his terror to an end and I was too cowardly to do so.  I’ve been thinking about this all day, and I really expected my heart to demand I don’t do this, but there is nothing.  Just a hollow feeling that turns in to guilt and regret when I think about not doing it.”

“Those are big emotions for a cub of only two months to be feeling,” Lewis said.  “Are you sure you’re not just too young to understand what you’re doing and feeling?”

“I think I have a spirit guide,” the cheetah said with a wry smile.  “A jaguar called StarSeer came to me in a dream last night and said I’d have to make some tough decisions.  I think this might be one of them.  If I see to his destruction, he can no longer bully his weasels into catching more innocent cubs.  Besides, he had no problems with killing that squirrel at the cave, what’s to say he won’t kill on a whim again?  This needs doing, and if not by me, then by whom?”

“By me,” Lewis said, holding out a paw for one of the blades.  “I’ve been on the road with him for a while now, and been terrified by him on a daily basis.  That is, until you showed up and taught us how to be strong.  Let me repay that kindness by saving you from having to kill at such a young age.  You can walk from here guilt-free, knowing that it was not cowardliness that stopped you killing this fiend, but the kindness of others.”

Kyyanno handed the fox the handle of one of his blades and nodded gravely to his friend.  He turned and left the tent, going to the fire to keep it stoked and to stop it going out.  A few minutes later he heard Lewis emerge from the tent dragging a roll of blood-soaked blankets tied up with rope.  Without a word, the cheetah took hold of the other end of the roll and together they waded in to the lake.  With a heave they threw the body of the lead weasel as far as they could, and stood motionless as the bundle of blankets floated for a few seconds before sinking under the reddening water.  The deed had been done.  The lead weasel would bully and terrorise others no more.  Together the pair went back to the tent to clean it up as well as they could.  Not a word was spoken between them until the others returned with raft making materials.

***

The art of getting two sleeping weasels onto a makeshift raft in the dark was one none of the cubs possessed.  With some effort and a bit of luck, they succeeded with their task and soon the lake took its pair of sleeping sailors for a gentle pleasure cruise while the exhausted young ones dried off next to the fire and used the remaining blankets left in the tent to make their beds.  The smallest were given the tent to keep them safe from the cold night, but the older ones braved the outdoors with one staying as awake as they could during their turn to keep the fire burning and warn if attacked, a trick they had learnt from the weasels.

Lewis and Kyyanno had shrugged off questions about the lead weasel, only going so far as to tell the others that he had ‘been dealt with’ and would not be bothering anybody ever again.  A heavy silence hung over the campsite during the night.

Lewis had taken the first shift of being on watch.  As he looked out over the water of the lake, he could see the raft in the distance, slowly bobbing out towards the middle of the water.  The two passengers safe in their slumber showed only as a dark silhouette.  His eyes darted to the place he had seen the mass of bedding sink, looking for any sign that might give away what he had done.  He half expected the weasel to come bobbing up to the surface, or to crawl out of the water, half-dead and seeking revenge.  That was not going to happen though, Lewis knew.  The blades on the sai had done their job with ruthless efficiency and the fox knew there would be no return from the damage he had inflicted.

The water seemed to ripple around where the body had sunk, as if to let Lewis know that the lake knew what he had done.  Was the lake shallow where the weasel was resting?  Would anyone be able to find him, and pin the blame where it belonged?  Worse still, would the body just wash ashore in the morning and scare the young ones before they had even left camp?

The fox put his paws up to his head and tried to shut the outside world out for a few moments.  He scrunched up his eyes, but all he could see in his mind’s eye was the body of his victim, lying open and bleeding.  The face of the cadaver facing the ceiling of the tent, posed in unconscious discomfort as its body tried to deal with the massive drug overdose while he slept.  As the cub looked deeper into the face, its eyes flicked open and the body sat bolt upright.  The piercing, dead eyes stared deep into Lewis’ soul and the mouth moaned a single word in a deep and haunting voice.

“Murderer.”

The whole camp woke with the sound of a fox screaming, as Lewis sat at the lookout post, wrestling with thin air and begging for his life.  He appeared to be fast asleep.  Leona ran to him and attempted to wake him from his night terror.  At first he would not be roused, but became more frantic until Leona’s shouting filtered through the dream and the fox jolted awake.  A look of wild fear flashed over him, which seemed to drive a bolt of fear into Leona, before he took a couple of deep breaths and regained control of his emotions.  He grabbed the vixen and drew her into a tight hug, crying over her shoulder.  She returned the embrace, saying soothing words in a gentle voice in a vain attempt to calm him.

“He’s going to get me,” Lewis whispered to his partner between hearty sobs.

“Who is?”

“That weasel.  He knows what I’ve done, and he’s going to pay me back for it.”

“Why?  What did you do?” Leona asked.  She broke out of the hug and looked Lewis in the eye, her paws on his shoulders held at arm’s length.

“I did something terrible,” the miserable fox replied as his tears flowed in an uncontrollable torrent.  “He was laid there, and, and I had one of Kyyanno’s knife things, and, and I…  I killed him.”

“You did what?” Leona whispered in disbelief, her eyes wide open with shock.

“I killed him,” yelled Lewis to the sky.  “I am a murderer!”

Kyyanno sent the young ones back inside the tent and told them not to come out until morning.  The two older hedgehogs joined them to make sure they did as they were told.  Harvey, Bristol, and Kyyanno then joined the two foxes on the beach.

“It was so different to hunting,” Lewis was saying through his tears as the trio arrived.  “All the urge of survival was missing.  There was no feeling that a swift death of my prey would mean a longer life for me.  It was just cold-blooded revenge, and it just felt wrong.  I still did it though.  I thought I could make it quick so he wouldn’t suffer, just like when I hunt, but I couldn’t do it.  He kept breathing, so I kept making more cuts until the blood…Ugh, there was so much blood.  I had to wrap him in blankets, and he was thrown into the lake.”

The females in the group shivered with revulsion as Lewis described the events.  None of the four thought Lewis had done the wrong thing, however.

“You’re not a murderer,” Bristol said, pulling his head into her chest and hugging it tight.  “You’re a hero.  To us, and to all the pups and cubs that will be safe from the slave trade now that one of the ring-leaders is gone.”

“I don’t know if my family are even alive,” said Kyyanno to the fox cub.  “My brother should have been following me but I never even saw him.  I feel better knowing that if he is still out there somewhere, thanks to your brave action, he will never fall into the clutches of this group, and nor will any cub ever again.”

“If you’re haunted by ghostly images,” Harvey followed, “just think of smiling, happy faces on a group of cubs, young and free, and not tied together with ropes.  Let their happiness defeat your demons.”

“Leona,” Bristol released Lewis and he retreated back to his vixen.  “Take Lewis to bed, I’ll keep watch for this shift.  We’ve got a long day tomorrow and I think we should make sure we get a good night here.”

Leona nodded and escorted Lewis up to the campfire to settle down for the night.  Kyyanno and Harvey stayed with Bristol to arrange shifts for lookout before going the short way from the watch point to the camp.  Respecting the fox’s privacy, the hound and cheetah laid on the other side of the fire until Lewis called out for his friends to be near him.  Without a moment of hesitation the two joined the foxes for a big group sleep.  When Bristol finished her shift, she could not stand to break up the sleeping friends, so she enlisted the aid of the hedgehogs for the job.   They were only too happy to help man the remaining shifts, and the rest of the night passed in peace.