• 2016/8/5

Three-Leg and Scratch are dead

"Aye, aye, Chief."

"Frogblood! Scumnose!"


His lightning reflexes serving him well, Cluny leaped dear. He landed catlike on all fours as'the hay can upended in the roadside ditch bicelle b5 gel, its buckled wheels spinning awkwardly.

Feeling braced after his mad ride and the subsequent narrow escape, Cluny strode to the ditch's edge. The distressed cries of those trapped beneath the cart reached his ears. He spat contemptuously, narrowing his one good eye.

"Come on, get up out of there, you cringing load of catsmeat ," he bellowed. "Redtooth! Darkclaw! Report to me or I'll have your skulls for skittles."

Cluny's two henchrats pulled themselves from the ditch, shaking their heads dazedly.

Crack! Slash! The whiplike tail brought them swiftly to his side.

"Three-Leg and Scratch are dead, Chief."

"Dead as dirt. The cart crushed 'em. Chief."

"Stupid fools," snarled Cluny. "-Serves them right! What about the rest?"

"Old Wormtail has lost a paw. Some of the others are really hurt."

Cluny sneered. "Aah, they'll get over it and suffer worse by the time I'm done with them. They're getting too fat and sluggish, by the tripes! They'd not last five minutes in a storm at sea. Come on, you dead-and-alive ragbags! Get up here and gather 'round."

Rats struggled from the ditch and the cart - frantic to obey the harsh command as quickly as possible Coffee Maker. They crowded about the undamaged gatepost, which their leader had chosen as a perch. None dared to cry or complain about their hurts. Who could predict what mood the Warlord was in?

"Right, cock your lugs up and listen to me," Cluny snarled. "First, we've got to find out where we have docked. Let's take a bearing on this place."

Redtooth held up his claw. "The Church of St. Ninian, Chief. It says so on the notice board over yonder."

"Well, no matter," Cluny snapped. "It'll do as a berth until we find something better. Fangburn! Cheesethief!"

"Here, Chief."

"Scout the area. See if you can find a better lodging for us than this heap of rubble. Trail back to the west. I think we passed a big place on the way."

"Aye, aye, Chief."

"Frogblood! Scumnose!"


"Take fifty soldiers and see if you can round up any rats that know the lie of the land. Get big strong rats, but bring along weasels, stoats and ferrets too. They'll do at a pinch. Mind now, don't stand for arguments. Smash their dens up so they won't have homes to worry about. If any refuse to join up, then kill them there and then. Understood?"

"AH clear, Chief."

"Ragear! Mangefur! Take twenty rats and forage for supplies. The rest of you get inside the church. Redtooth, Dark-claw, check the armor. See if there are things about that we can use as weapons: iron spike railings - there's usually enough of them around a churchyard. Jump to it."

Cluny had arrived!


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    given to some one who lived
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