Captain of the Guards- Chapter Forty-One- The Last Breath

Fleck’s fiery hazel eyes met Slate’s dark brown, never wavering and full of aggression. This fight would be either his last or hers, and Fleck didn’t want to be on the losing end of this battle.

In the corner of her eye, Fleck saw Ginger snatch up her Purple-Plasma Pistol and take careful aim for Slate’s head. Fleck, without tearing her eyes away from Slate’s, stopped her a second before she pulled the trigger.

“I’m sorry, Ginger,” Fleck said to her caring friend, “but this is my fight. I cannot have someone else fight my own battles. But thank you for your loyalty and bravery. And you, Jade,” Fleck added when she saw that Jade had done the some thing as Ginger. “I think that you killing one king in a day is good enough, don’t you?”

“You don’t have to play Miss Heroine, you know,” Ginger said imploringly. “It could be the last thing you ever do. You let us end this or you and you won’t be risking your life of wasting your time.”

“Yeah, but I should at least finish this honorably, weather it’s me or Slate that falls in the end.” Fleck stood her ground with the stubbornness of a mule.

“Whatever,” Jade sighed defeatedly. “But I do think that to kings are better then one, if you know what I mean.” Jade motioned a shooting action with her gun and blew imaginary smoke off of the nozzle.

“When I win this fight,” Slate growled through gritted teeth, “I’ll remember how willing you to were to kill me for the sake of this traitor.” He spat out the word. “And believe me, you will both pay the price for your treasonous actions.”

The two tomboys weren’t the least bit intimidated. “Yeah, you’ll beat her in a fight when pigs fly!” Jade spat onto the ground.

“Yeah she’ll whip you good!” Ginger laughed with a dark grin. “And if you even come close to beating her, then I’ll turn your head into a puddle of purple sludge. Well, it’s not much more then that already, is it?”

“I will not stand for insults!” Slate screamed madly, rounding on her with his gun pointed towards Ginger’s chest.

“Slate,” Fleck said in a singsong and condescending tone. “I think that you forgot something.”

“Oh,” Slate said, sounding extremely embarrassed and was red in the face. “I sort of, um... Oh.”

“Yeah, you don’t stand a chance,” Jade muttered to the king with a sly smile on her face.  Then she added in a singsong voice much like the one that Fleck had used previously, “You’d better back down while you can.”

“I’ll never back down!” Slate shouted at her, face contorted in a hateful glare. Then her turned to Fleck, sounding far more clam but looking just as unpleasant. “Now, how do you want to play this?”

“Whatever way you want to, It doesn’t really matter to me,” Fleck replied mockingly, “because either way I’ll end up winning.”

Slate screamed with fury and fired numberless rounds from his weapon at her, not even attempting to aim. Fleck swerved to the side, allowing the deadly ammunition to sail  right past her. Then she dashed towards him, delivering a powerful blow to his shoulder with practiced persuasion.

Slate grunted with pain and was knocked to the ground. Fleck pinned him down and prepared to rake his exposed stomach with her unsheathed claws when the king swung his heavy medal gun towards her face. Fleck fell to the ground as Slate rose from where he had once lay, grinning at his presumed victory. Fleck tasted blood in the corner of her mouth and the side of her head ached from the tremendous blow, but she wasn’t just about to give up that easily.

Slate approached her slowly, thinking that she was unconscious. Her eyes narrowed into such thin slits that they appeared completely shut, she watched the tom’s every move, watching and waiting for to perfect time to strike. Then it came; a second before Slate fired his weapon. Fleck used her strong hind legs to kick the gun, averting its line of fire skywards. She had been hoping to also knock it out of Slate’s grip, but he had had to strong a handhold o the weapon.

Slate was momentarily stunned, and Fleck took this opportunity to make a long, thin slash mark on his forehead, just above his eyes. Then she pounced on top of him and pinned him to the ground, her unsheathed claws viciously digging into the flesh on his exposed forearm. Slate snapped out of his brief daze and struggled. Luckily, Fleck had positioned herself so that Slate couldn’t use his hind legs to kick her off. But instead he twisted his head around and bit her paw.

Fleck let out a cry of pain and instinctively pulled away from him, but he still had a firm grip on her paw. She backed up and tried to pull him off, but when this didn’t work, she slashed him across his chest. Now it was his turn to back away from her. The cut had been deeper then Fleck had eve meant it to be. Slate had dropped him gun onto the ground when Fleck had last pinned him down, but now he had picked it up again, prepared to attack once more.

“You’ll never win this one, Fleck,” Slate spat, suppressing a cringe of pain and clutching his free paw to his bleeding chest in feeble attempt to stem the blood flow.

“Oh, really?” Fleck said in her best bubblehead voice. Then she added with a cunning darkness, “Because it looks to me like I have the upper hand right now.”

“But that won’t last for long!” Slate shouted with rage, releasing a powerful blast from his weapon.

Fleck rolled her eyes a split second before she leapt into the air to avoid the strike, landing neatly onto the very ground that she had been standing on a moment before. She had her head bent and her eyes closed as if she had just finished a gymnastics tournament.

“Are you still so sure?” she inquired slyly, opening her eyes and raising her head to reveal a large smile.

Slate didn’t answer. Instead, he charged, head bent down like a bull towards her with an infuriated roar. Fleck lightly darted to the side, half-expecting him to comically thunder past her. But instead, he merely changed direction and, before she could react, rammed head on into Fleck, knocking her to the ground.

He pinned her down and raked at her stomach with half-sheathed claws. Fleck managed to free one of her paws from his painfully tight grip and slashed his cheek fur. While Slate was temporarily immobile from his pain and shock, Fleck shoved his off of her. She dashed a couple of strides away from the stunned king. Then she crouched there trying to ignore from the burning pain that pulsed from the deep gashes on her stomach.

But Slate wasn’t just going to sit back and allow her to take a moment to recover and brutally launched himself at her, flecks of crimson blood dripping onto the dusty earth from the deep cut on his cheek. Fleck dashed away to evade his attack, but the pain slowed her. It was only by a small degree, but it was still enough to give Slate the present upper hand.

Slate knocked her to the ground, but she countered with a bite on his shoulder. Slate let out a cry of pain and fell backwards, allowing her to get back up to her paws. She waited a second for Slate to recover from her blow, letting him get to his paws. The moment he did, before he could attack, Fleck lashed out with her hind legs, kicking dust into his eyes. The king covered his eyes with his front paws but it was to late--the damage had already been done.

While Slate was vainly attempting to free his streaming eyes of the dirty grit, Fleck lashed out at him and tore at his already wounded shoulder. Slate briefly opened his eyes, which were streaked with red--giving him an insane look--then closed them again from the unbearable burning pain. He made a blind swipe for where he thought that Fleck was.

He was infuriated when she darted skillfully out of his way. He started to violently swing his gun around, trying to catch Fleck off guard. But Fleck was watching with immense amusement from a safe distance of half a dozen yards away. Slate looked quite comical, swinging his otherwise deadly weapon at an adversary that wasn’t there.

But then, once Slate had finished rubbing most of the grit out of his eyes, he saw her standing far out of harm’s way, suppressing mocking laughter. This made him even more mad, if that was possible. He roared with rage and attempted to fire his gun. When he realized that he was holding it the wrong way, he turned it around, grumbling angrily all the while, and fired.

Fleck sprang high into the air to avoid to gunshot, but this time she leapt so that she was headed straight for Slate. While she was landing, she kicked the king’s gun out of his paws, sending it skidding many feet away. Almost immediately after she had landed, she lashed out at his back with her hind legs, knocking him down. He was weaponless and badly wounded, and Fleck was perched on top of his back with her gun poised to kill.

“Sweet dreams, Slate,” Fleck whispered into his ear with a devilish grin.

And then she pulled the trigger, leaving yet another kingdom without a king.

______________________________________________________________________

-KittyLover8

© 2013

Captain of the Guards- Chapter Forty- The Accusation

There was a stunned silence that fell thickly over the watching crowd. No one shed any tears; Ember had not been the most well-liked of all of the kings that the kingdom had had. Although, there was an extreme sense of sadness in the air. The cats knew that they had been defeated and that they were now at the mercy of Slate and his ruthless guards.

Jade looked horribly insane; grinning crazily, standing over the body of a dead king, splattered with scarlet droplets of blood, eyes sparkling with a bloody craze. The enemy cats were unarmed, their weapons in a heap guarded by Sparrow, Cinder and Ash. Ginger and Fleck held them at gunpoint, and they were soon joined by Jade. Ember’s cats knew that the three wouldn’t hesitate to shoot, especially as after they had seen what Jade had done. The followed but in a kind o daze. Fleck could tell that they though for sure that this was the last day of their lives.

“Move along,” Fleck growled, prodding a few in the bock with the nozzle of her weapon. “Hurry up, now.”

When only a few of them responded, Jade snarled loudly, “Yeah, we don’t have all day! Or do you want to act like your trigger-happy friend over there?” Jade gestured bluntly towards the rise upon which Ember still lay.

The cats hurried up, casting nervous glances over their shoulders at Jade, who never failed to grin back at them with her bloodstained teeth.

When they had all reached Slate’s empire (which happened far more quickly then Fleck had thought was possible, thanks to Jade), they went directly to the Commoners grounds. Then they got all of the Commoners to go into their homes or to pile into the street’s shops so that they wouldn’t get in the way. Ginger advised them to steer clear of the windows with a devilish grin directed towards their trembling prisoners.

Fleck leapt up onto the hollow ash tree where Slate always made his announcements. She looked down upon the prisoners--who Ginger, Jade, Sparrow, Cinder and Ash were still holding at gunpoint.

“Now, I want all of you to listen up,” Fleck shouted in a clear, ringing voice laden with threatening menace. “You make any wrong moves or say any wrong things, and we guards’ll blast you ungrateful little head off. I’m going to pick out some of you to become guards, some of you to become Commoners, and the rest of you to be killed.” Fleck narrowed her eyes and smiled darkly at the cats below her.

“Wait, why would you want to kill us?” One of the cats spoke up, sounding extremely frightened.

“Well, if I decide that you are to disloyal and rebellious, then I’ll have Ginger or Jade shoot you,” Fleck replied with an evil grin.

“Yeah! Awesome!” the two she-cats cried happily, pumping their fists and arguing about who would get to do it first. Even now the thought of he two best friends being so happy to kill made her feel uneasy.

Fleck gestured towards Ginger and Jade. “You see? Face it, kids. You’re lives are in our paws, now. Which means that your chances of seeing the next sunrise are getting pretty slim.”

She had done what she had been hoping to do. She had scared the daylights out of the prisoners. Then she continued to talk. “You cooperate and your chances of living grow by a degree. You should just give up any hope of escaping and rioting or rebelling now, else I’ll make sure every single one of you involved pays the price. You could coexist with us in peace, if you’d like. Who knows, we could even become friends--”

“That’s not very likely,” one of the members of the crowd, a black tomcat, shouted up. “Friends? With scum like you? I’d rather die.”

“Then you get you’re wish,” Fleck said simply. “Ginger, will you do the honers?”

“Is that a question?” Ginger asked sarcastically with a dark laugh. She took careless aim at the rebel with a practiced air and a lazy look and he was dead before he even knew it.

“Aw, come on,” Jade whined. “How come Ginger got to kill him?”

Ginger playfully stuck her tongue out at her friend. “Because you got to kill the king. It was my turn fair and square.”

As Jade continued to pout, Fleck resumed speaking. “If you rebel in any way, even just mentally, you will end up like him.” Fleck gestured to the fallen cat. “Have I made myself clear?”

There was a generally unsatisfied grumbling of agreement from the cats below.

“All right, then,” Fleck said happily, rubbing her two front paws together. “Let the judging begin!”

And so they did. In the end it turned out that two other cats followed the black tabby, four toms and three she-cats joined the guards and the rest of them were deemed Commoners.

“Sparrow, I want you to tell Slate every detail of the battle, including Jade being the reason why we won and you and the twins taking away the prisoner’s weapons and all of that jazz.” Then Fleck turned to the Commoners. “You all go out and hunt. A third of you to the forest and the other third to our new territory. Cinder, you guard the ones in the forest and Ash, you guard the ones going into the new territories. The other third will take care of those guns that are all piled up by the lake and take them to the underground store. Ginger and Jade, you guard them. Make sure that they’re all old Commoners. Meanwhile, I’ll take our new possibilities of guards and see if their worthy of becoming guards.”

Everyone quickly dispersed, following Fleck’s orders to the word. Then she turned to the seven cats that stood before her and said to them bluntly, “First of all, I’ll need you to tell me your names.”

A stout black tom with earnest brown eyes stepped up first and said timidly, “My name is Coal.”

“Nice,” Fleck intoned, although she didn’t entirely mean it. “Next.”

“I’m Lark,” snapped a moody, disrespectful golden tabby she-cat with fierce green eyes that reminded Fleck of Jade’s.

“I go by the name of FireClaw, if you must know” said a dappled orange tomcat with such dark brown eyes that they were on the verge of being black. He said this as if he were in a daze. “And for whatever reason I seem to vaguely recognize you from something... I just can’t put my paw on what...”

“I don’t remember you,” Fleck spat impolitely. “But then again, you don’t have a very remarkable face, now do you?”

After an awkward pause, another cat spoke up. He was a brown mackerel tabby cat with one orange eye and one golden. “My name is Thistle,” he said simply with a small nod of his head.

“I am named Blizzard,” a large and well-muscled white tomcat with steely blue eyes pronounced, puffing out his well-groomed chest.

“I am called Storm,” said a light gray tabby she-cat with lighter paws and a white muzzle and mesmerizing gray eyes.

“And my name is Cherry,” the last cat, an orange-black-and-white calico she-cat with burnt-orange eyes said, a snooty look on her dainty little triangular face.

“Well, then, why don’t we begin training now that I know all of your names, we can do some training,” Fleck began importantly. “Oh, and by the way, my name is Fleck. What we will start with is you each fighting each other. Whoever ends up winning will be personally trained by me. Whoever loses the worst may be unable to become a guard. Storm, you’ll fight Cherry and whoever wins that will fight Lark. Thistle will fight Coal and FireClaw will fight Blizzard. Then the victors of each of those fights will battle, and the winner of that fights the female winner.”

It ended up that Storm won against Cherry and Lark. Thistle won in his fight with Coal and Blizzard won against FireClaw. Then Thistle won against Blizzard. Storm won the final round.

“Okay, then,” Fleck said. “I’ve figured it out and I will teach Thistle and Storm, Ginger will train Lark and Cherry, Jade’ll be FireClaw and Blizzard’s mentor and Coal, you get Sparrow. I decided to keep you, FireClaw, even though you definitely got off the worst. Now first you’ll lear the basics, like hand-to-hand fighting and hunting and using daggers and swards and things like that. Then you’ll go on t--”

“Quiet!” Slate shouted as he dragged his waitress, Lyla, out of the hallow tree, a befuddled sparrow on his heels. “I have a cat here that I need one of you guards to execute!”

“What?” Fleck asked, pretending to be shocked. “Why?”

“I tell you it wasn’t me!” Lyla screamed desperately, eyes wide with fear. “How many times do I have to say it... I was framed!”

“Ha!” Slate scoffed, enraged. “You knew that they were going to be there, but how?” Before she could answer he continued. “And you also knew that my guards were going to be ambushed by Ember and his army, but you decided to leave that particular bit out, didn’t you?”

“I didn’t know!” Lyla shouted. “Just ask her!” She pointed angrily at Fleck with a scowl. “She’s the one who told me about Ember and his cats going over there! It’s true! She’s the traitor! She’s the one you want!”

“Oh, is she?” Slate questioned threateningly. But it was more directed at Fleck then it was at Lyla.

“I--No!” Fleck said in her defense, eyes darting fearfully. “How could I have gotten that kind of information?”

“Well, how could Lyla have?” Slate asked menacingly. “By being a spy. It all makes sense now. You told Lyla the false information while you were guarding me during that one breakfast a while ago and she relayed it back to me a moment later. I knew that I had a spy among my guards.”

It was right then that Ginger and Jade arrived, both carrying weighty armloads of weaponry. “What’s going on?” Ginger asked the moment she set eyes upon the cats in the training grounds.

“Fleck here is a traitor!” Slate spat, gesturing towards her. “She was the one that planned the ambush!”

“That’s a lie!” Ginger snarled, immediately leaping to Fleck’s defense.

“Yeah, she was the one who gave me the orders to kill Ember!” Jade hissed, ears back. “You’ve got it all backwards. She  wouldn’t ever be able to end the war in her enemy’s favor!”

“I sentence her to death!” Slate shouted, completely ignoring Ginger and Jade.

“And I won’t go down without a fight,” Fleck snarled.

She snatched up her gun and Slate readied his and they prepared for battle. “Then let us fight,” Slate sneered. “To the death!”

______________________________________________________________________

-KittyLover8

© 2013

Captain of the Guards- Chapter Thirty-Eight- The Argument

Fleck, once again, went straight to Ember’s kingdom the moment she woke up. She decided on trying not to dawdle there, seeing as it was a long run there and back and she couldn’t afford being seen two days in a row.

Fleck also knew that she would have to play this out very carefully, now that she found out that Slate was keeping an eye out for spies. For what seemed like numberless times, Fleck had wished that her transmitter was still in working order. Once again, she found herself wistfully thinking of the days when she didn’t have to take a mile long run to Ember’s kingdom and back just to report to him.

Although, she was quite exited to see his reaction to her successful mission. It had been one of the harder ones, but she had been able to figure something out. Although, there did seem to be a hole in Ember’s battle plan that she would have to discuss with him... Hopefully he would take it as the helpful advise that it was intended to be and not as insulting criticism.

Still, Fleck wasn’t really sure that she wanted to interfere any more then she already had. Her friends were quite possibly going to lose the war, and even if they didn’t die in the last battle, what would happen to them? She didn’t know how Ember intended to treat his prisoners.

Fleck quickened her pace. She could see the kingdom’s silhouette, outlines by the pinkish violet light of the coming dawn. Only the very tip of sun could be seen; a radiant buttery sliver. Fleck suppressed a shiver from the early morning cold. She ignored it and continued, her head full of questions to ask Ember.

Soon, she reached her destination. Fleck immediately went to Ember’s chambers, for she knew the path well and that he would be there. What she hoped was that he would be awake at this early hour... Or that at least that his maid would be. Then, as she had the last time Fleck had visited, she could awaken Ember for their discussion. Still, she hoped that Ember himself would be presented at the door to welcome her, otherwise there might be a lengthy delay.

Well, there was only one way to find out. Fleck pushed Ember’s door open and enter the place, not bothering to be polite and knock. The moment she set her paw across the threshold, Katrina the maid rushed forth to greet the guest.

“Hello, there, Fleck,” Katrina murmured, bowing deeply. “How may I assist you? Tea? A slice a freshly-made lemon meringue pie? Both?”

“No, but thank you,” Fleck declined, although in her most appreciative tone. She wondered why Katrina was acting so... Respectful. Had she always acted like this and Fleck had just never known?

“Ah, I see,” Katrina decided, nodding knowingly. “I know what you want. You wish to speak with King Ember, no?”

“Uh, yes,” Fleck answered shifting from paw to paw. “Is he still sleeping? Could you wake him for me? I’m sure that he wouldn’t mind, seeing as this is a very important matter.”

“Yes, in fact, he is still asleep,” Katrina said, looking extremely uncomfortable. When Fleck opened her mouth to speak, the maid held up a paw that pleaded for silence. She had a defeated look in her eyes and something else... Was it fear? “He gave me pacific orders not to wake him up until the sun completely left the horizon. I don’t want to disobey him and...” Katrina trailed off and looked at Fleck pleadingly. “Please. Is it really that important?”

“Yes, it is,” Fleck snapped impatiently, ears beginning to flatten. “I need to speak with him now. It is the means of winning or losing the war, which, in my opinion, is far more important the a few extra minutes of sleep.”

“But he will be so mad at me...” Katrina looked as if she was about to cry.

“What’s the worst he could do?” Fleck asked softly, feeling empathy towards the fretful she-cat.

“He’s the king,” Katrina replied bluntly. “If he wanted to, he could even execute me. Although I doubt that he’ll be that mad.”

“Well, look,” Fleck reasoned, gesturing a paw in the direction of a nearby window, “the sun has risen about halfway above the horizon, give or take a little. I’ve already wasted enough time arguing with you and Ember will only be missing.. what ten minutes of sleep? And every extra second I spend here makes it more likely for me to be caught, killed and our whole operation and chances of winning crushed.”

“Well, I guess that I should.” Katrina’s voice sounded a little hoarse. She Then tilted her head upwards and called loudly, “King Ember! Ember, you have a visitor!”

“Wouldn’t it help if you went up there to wake him up?” Fleck inquired, ears swiveled back in attempt to block out the noise.

“King Ember is always in a horrible mood when he fist wakes up, and any cat with half a brain would stay away from him at that time,” Katrina said sheepishly, looking down at her paws.

Then an angry and thoroughly frustrated roar came from above, “Kartina! You woke me up early!”

“Your spy has come to visit you,” Katrina said weakly.

“Don’t terrorize her, Ember,” Fleck growled as he descended the stairs. “I asked her to wake you up, seeing as you didn’t even have ten more minutes to sleep. Anyway, you’d better lighten up, because I have news for you.”

“Would you like to join him for breakfast?” Katrina asked lightly, gesturing to the large lemon meringue pie and steaming kettle of fragrant peppermint tea that were sitting on the table.

“I’d best spend as little time as possible here,” Fleck said. Then she turned to Ember, “The mission was successful. I convinced Slate to go to the east of his kingdom, to a large river, where you will be waiting for him. This will happen the day after tomorrow,  and it’s likely to occur early in the morning, when he usually makes the rondevu time, although he hasn’t told us when because he suspects that there’s a traitor among the guards.”

“Does he now?” Ember grunted nonchalantly, acting as if this was nothing more then just a very small problem that would go away if it was just ignored. Then, Ember was suddenly alert, as if he was finally paying attention to the conversation. “And I want him to wait another day for the rondevu. Otherwise I won’t be able to assemble my tropes in time for the battle.”

“Finally your talking about the battle and you still aren’t being sensible,” Fleck growled, rolling her eyes and heaving an exasperated sigh. “What do you think I am, a magician? I had to trick a waitress into telling him that. If I told him myself, he’d know that I am the traitor that he suspects, and it would be off with my head!” Fleck sliced a line in the air an inch away from her neck, glowering.

“Well, at least change it to later in the day,” Ember snarled argumentatively. “My cats will be half asleep!”

“I can understand why you feel that it is inconvenient,” Fleck hissed, ears pressed back. “But acting like it’s all my fault for this is just going to far! If I can’t make it a different day, then how could I make it later in the day? Why don’t you try doing one of these assignments sometime, huh? You act like I don’t care how hard you make this for me. Well, I do!”

“And you act like there isn’t a war going on!” Ember snarled. “You are my spy! This is what you were trained to do!”

“Huh,” Fleck grunted sarcastically, rolling her eyes. “I didn’t know that spies were supposed to do everything that you ever ask me to do. I have done quite a few things, but not the impossible. I know that I could change the battle timing, but I could easily lose my neck doing that! Plus, if I wanted to do it without arising suspicion, I’d have to do it after the current rondevu time. So, no, I can’t.”

“Well, then you’re completely useless,” Ember spat.

“Oh, yeah, like I’m a sofa,” Fleck growled, rolling her eyes at him again. “I don’t get any gratitude for my efforts, so why would I even want to do anything for you? I’m better off with Slate and his guards then I am here.”

“Oh, so you’re going to turn traitor, are you?” Ember challenged, barring his teeth with a vicious snarl.

“So what if I am?” Fleck retorted hotly.

“So then I’d have you killed,” Ember threatened.

“What do I care?” Fleck said with a teasing laugh. “You’re cats couldn’t hit a tree that was touching their nose, their aim’s so bad. There’s only a one in a million chance that they’ll ever hit me.”

At that, Fleck took her leave, slamming the door shut behind her. Katrina was trembling and both Ember and Fleck were steaming with rage.

After a moment’s silence Ember suddenly called out at the top of his lungs, “Shoot her! Don’t let her get away!”

Fleck, momentarily stunned, saw cats pouring out of their homes, speedily heading towards the weapons shed at the top of the hill. Fleck was unarmed and knew that her only hope was to run away as fast as she could and make herself a hard target to hit. Quite the contrary, some of Ember’s cats were excellent shots, such as Smokey. And if Fleck got shot, it was likely that she wouldn’t live.

Ember continued to call to his cats, who were almost at the shed by now. “Get her! Get her! Hurry Up! She’s getting away!”

Fleck rushed onwards darting behind any cover that she could find. But cover here was few and far between. Dashing behind any of the hills would be no use, seeing as the cats were on the tallest hill in the whole meadow; a perfect vantage point. And that was another thing: the fact that this was a meadow. A few trees and the occasional rock was all that provided and cover, and then again, it wasn’t very efficient cover.

The forest, which had always seemed extremely close to Ember’s kingdom, now seemed very far away. Fleck’s paws thudded against the ground a churned up dust and shreds of dry meadow grass. Gunshots rang out from above. Fleck could hear the bullets whizzing past her ears.

She stifled a cry of pain as one of their shots hit her bad leg, which had never quite healed from the time when she had broken it. Fleck collapsed to the ground, gasping from the pain. She examined it to see how bad it was, and then found that the shot had only gotten part of her paw. Then she leapt up, despite the pain. She had to get a move on, otherwise the gunners would do some real damage.

So Fleck sped off, limping slightly, towards the cover of the trees. She was still within mot of the guns’ range, and was now moving more slowly then before. The trees were only a few feet away... Wincing with pain, Fleck leapt foreword, dodging into the cover of the thick forest. She continued to run until she was in the middle of the woods and the gunshots had subsided.

Panting, Fleck rested her injured paw and lay down, eyes wide with agony and fear and continuously darting towards the direction of Ember’s kingdom. She now knew what she had always been to Ember; disposable. If she got caught, then she wasn’t worth rescuing. If she was in the question of not being loyal, then he would merely kill her and be done with it. She had been his plaything, and he had shown her that he would readily kill her just now.

“Well, all I can tell you is this, Ember,” Fleck spat, glaring in the direction of his kingdom. “You are gonna be sorry that you ever messed with me.”

______________________________________________________________________

-KittyLover8

© 2013

Captain of the Guards- Chapter Thirty-Seven- The Lie

The moment Fleck pushed open the thick oaken door, she felt a piecing pain in the middle of her chest and let out a startled gasp of pain and outrage. A small, brown female Commoner with flashing green eyes and an awkwardly large spear had been guarding the entranceway. When the door had opened, she had whirled around and landed her spearpoint straight in the middle of Fleck’s chest. Her expression was hard and fierce.

“Who are you and what do you want?” the she-cat snarled.

“I’m Fleck, a member of the guard, and I’m here to guard King Slate during his breakfast,” Fleck spat indignantly. “And who, might I ask, are you?”

“Why should I tell you, impostor?” the she cat hissed, digging her spear deeper into Fleck’s exposed chest. “You have no prof that you are a guard and King Slate never has anyone guard him during his meals.”

“I know that, but the rules have changed,” Fleck growled. “And if you don’t kindly remove that spear from my chest, I will do it for you.”

“Ha!” The small brown she-cat gave a sly smile. “I think that I’ll just kill you now... It’ll save King Slate the time...”

The she-cat removed the spear from Fleck’s chest, then heaved it back, poised with deadly accuracy. She then swung it towards Fleck, who was weaponless. Fleck darted skillfully out of the way, so that she was just in front of the she-cat and facing the left side of the spear. While her adversary was off-balance from the blow, Fleck snatched the spear from her grasp.

“Now,” Fleck said in an imperious tone, pointing the weapon at the small brown she-cat’s chest, “I have the weapon. Do you want me to do the honers and save Slate the time, mm?”

The she-cat stood there, shock-still and terrified, for a few long seconds. Then she shouted over her shoulder, “Help! I need some help over here!”

Fleck dropped the spear to avoid the long explanation. A moment later, other Commoners rushed in, weapons at the ready. One of them had a particularly nasty-looking energy-rifle and was in the lead. He was a lanky tabby tom with amber eyes and looked like he could use a few good meals. Nevertheless, that was a pretty impressive rifle.

When he saw fleck, he grinned from ear to ear. “Ah, the guard, right?” he inquired. Then, without even waiting for an answer he continued, handing Flack a large Acid Pistol. “I’ll lead you to King Slate’s dining quarters.”

Fleck followed him, the Acid Pistol poised for action. In a moment’s notice, her excessively eager guide had lead her the room that she remembered well from the last time she had seen it. The tomcat lead her to a large door that was painted gold and decorated with painted songbirds of every color.

“This is your guarding post,” the tabby tom explained, still grinning. “You are not to leave it unless it is an emergency. You can’t come enter King Slate’s dining quarters unless it is an emergency. You can’t let anyone but the waitress in unless--”

“Unless it is an emergency,” Fleck finished, rolling her eyes. “I get it, I get it.”

“Okay then,” the tabby said, not seeming offended at all. “So you have it all covered? You understand what you have to do?”

“Yes,” Fleck replied with a sigh of exasperation. “You can go now, please.”

“All right, then. Put in a good word for me with the boss, okay?” The tabby tom gave her a wink and chortled contentedly as he left.

“Commoners,” Fleck sighed. It had taken a lot of time to get in, thanks to the one at the door, and even the nice ones were just plain annoying. Take the odd tabby that had lead her here. Fleck shuddered. Hopefully this wouldn’t all be for nothing.

Fleck examined the wound on her chest. It wasn’t too deep or large, but it still stung like mad. She wondered why Slate hadn’t notified the sentries about the new arrangement during his meals. The way some of these cats minds worked. Fleck sighed yet again. You met some colorful characters during a war.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Slate, who stormed into the room, grumbling loudly, and tried to push past her.

“You may enter,” Fleck said sarcastically, rolling her eyes.

“And you,” Slate snarled, rounding on her, “may not speak to me like that! I am your king, after all!”

“That’s nice,” Fleck said in a tone used appropriately by a mother speaking to a talkative child, opening the large, intricately carved doors for him.

With a trifle more angry grumbling, Slate entered his dining quarters, head bent low. He must have had the sense to know that he was fighting a losing battle, trying to get his guards to respect him.

“Oh, and the tabby that lead me hear called you ‘boss,’” Fleck chuckled, trying to contain her glee. “Isn’t that a load of laughs?”

Slate slammed the door behind him. Fleck heard him stomping to the table, roughly shoving a chair away from it, seating himself with a thud, and banging his fist on the table impatiently, as if this was going to bring his breakfast in any faster.

“Glad to see that you’re in such a wonderful mood this morning,” Fleck called to him, her voice heavily laden with sarcasm.

Fleck ignored Slate’s angry words that followed her disrespectful joke and awaited the waitress. She hoped that the calico she-cat would fall for her lie, for that was what her plan depended on. If not... Fleck didn’t know what would happen or how she would anonymously feed Slate the false rumor.

Then, Fleck spotted a little calico figure carrying a heavy-looking and needlessly large silver platter. If she remembered correctly, the calico’s name was Lyla. Fleck straightened herself and raised her pistol, pointing it towards Lyla’s chest, which was half-blocked by the silver tray.

“Who goes there?” Fleck questioned seriously, deepening her voice by a degree so that it was gruff and threatening.

“It is only me,” Lyla answered, her voice trembling a little. “I am Lyla, King Slate’s personal waitress. Please let me in.” She said the last sentence almost pleadingly, eyes afraid.

“Oh, hello, Lyla.” Fleck lowered her weapon and dipped her head politely to the she-cat. Then she added, just to strike up a nice conversation, “What have you got there on the silver tray?”

“N-nothing,” Lyla, who was now trembling, stammered.

“Don’t worry,” Fleck said with a hint amusement in her voice. “I am not a pig like the last guard and have already had my morning rations. All I am is curious, so please tell me. Not to frighten you further or anything, but it does look good.”

Lyla seemed to calm down a little at this. After a moment’s pause she replied, “It’s two slices of frosted berry Danish with a small zucchini, summer squash, spinach, purple onion and cheese breakfast wrap served with a few slices of kiwi and a glass of fresh-squeezed orange juice.”

“Sounds delicious,” Fleck said, discreetly licking her lips. “What do you usually have for breakfast?”

Lyla shrugged. “A small mouse, maybe.”

“Huh,” Fleck grunted. “He gets to eat like a... Well, like a king, while we get to have disgusting rations.”

“Yeah,” Lyla sighed. “Yesterday’s breakfast consisted of fried patties, a bowl of creamy yogurt topped with fresh fruit, and a small slice of apple pie topped with a sprinkling of powdered sugar.” She said each word with a hungry longing. “And he barely even touched it! I was almost tempted to finish of the scraps, but that’s prohibited for whatever reason. It was pure torture watching the perfectly good stuff get thrown out.” Lyla heaved another sigh.

“I’ll bet that it was,” Fleck nodded. Then, after a short pause, “Hey, have you heard the latest gossip?”

“I don’t usually hear many rumors,” Lyla confided drearily. “Really, I am kept busy almost all day long. These’s King Slate’s breakfast, then about an hour or two after that is his late morning snack, a little later his lunch, an afternoon snack, then dinner, and then maybe an evening snack, too. So when I’m not serving him his meals, I am eater eating or cleaning dishes in the kitchen.”

Fleck looked sympathetic. “Sounds horrible. That Slate really does eat like a pig, doesn’t he?”

“Tell me about it,” Lyla sighed, looking thoroughly depressed. “It’s constant and extremely exhausting. One would think that he would be far too fat to sit in his chair, but he rarely ever actually finishes the whole thing. Usually not even half of it. Anyway, what’s the rumor that you were about to tell me about?”

Fleck leaned closer to Lyla and whispered in an excitedly secretive tone, “Well, I’ve heard that Ember’s planing on moving his whole empire to a different place, one to the East, you know where that huge river is? They’re going to move to there. Something about him wanting to avoid the war and further death in his kingdom. So he’s going to start over. It might not even be true but... I’ll bet that the cat that tells Slate’ll be given a promotion. Maybe even become the next captain of the guards or Slate’s adviser or something like that.”

“Oh?” Lyla said, puffing out her chest a bit.

“But please don’t,” Fleck said to her, eyes darting like she had just made a huge mistake in telling the calico waitress the rumor.

“And why not?” Lyla inquired, a little defensively.

“Because...,” Fleck feigned to be searching for some sort of excuse, eyes continuing to dart nervously about the room. “Just... don’t. I’ve always wanted to be in high command... To be captain of the guard and give orders to the others, not take them. And if I tell Slate, I will be able to feast on gourmet food for every meal of the day, never a single stale-tasting ration ever again. I’ll be like a king!” Fleck knew that this was untrue, but she also knew that Lyla seemed to be a cat who loved food... But only the gourmet kind.

Lyla was believing every word of it. “Oh... Oh really?” she asked cunningly. Fleck could almost see her thoughts. She was for sure going to tell Slate... Leaving out, of course, the fact that it was Fleck’s discovery. “Well,” Lyla said suddenly, after a long and slightly awkward pause, “I’d better give King Slate his breakfast. He, um, sounds very hungry and I’ve been... staling for a while now. Good-bye.”

Slate certainly did sound like he might even be hungry enough to actually finish his food this time. “Farewell, Lyla. I hope that you come back,” Fleck joked with a short bought of playful laughter.

“Me, too,” Lyla replied with a forced laugh, her mind obviously on other things.

Fleck opened the door for Lyla, who was unable to while carrying the heavy and very full silver platter, which looked like it was made of real sterling silver. A moment after Lyla entered the room, Fleck shut the door behind her. The second that they shut, Fleck pressed her ear against the woodwork.

“King Slate,” it was Lyla speaking, “I have brought you your meal, but also some vital news that will help you to win the war in the blink of an eye.”

“Straight to the point, huh?” Fleck murmured slyly, grinning from ear to ear.

“Huh?” Slate sounded like his mouth was full. “What information? How did you find this out?”

“King Ember is moving his cats just east of here, by the large river,” Lyla whispered excitedly. By the sound of it, she was leaning foreword towards Slate as Fleck had done. “Said that he wants to avoid the war. Knowing his location, you could catch him by surprise and eliminate him and his cats quickly.”

There was a pause, and then Fleck heard Slate’s voice once again, “If you’re information is correct, you will be richly rewarded. If not...” Fleck got the feeling that Slate had drawn a rough line across his throat.

“Yes,” Lyla sounded immensely happy, obviously confident that her information had been correct. “When will your attack be?”

“In two days.” Came Slate’s gruff reply. “I’ll tell my guards at the last minute. I get the feeling that their’s a traitor among them, although I can’t put my finger on who...”

“Farewell, King Slate,” Lyla said formally, although her excitement was still evident in her voice.

Knowing that Lyla was leaving the room, Fleck pulled away from the door. Just in time, too. Lyla opened the doors a second later, carrying the tray, which was now almost empty aside form traces of berry Danish and a half-eaten breakfast wrap. The calico she-cat looked extremely proud of herself.

“Hello, again, Lyla,” Fleck said pleasantly. Then, unable to help herself, she added, “Might I ask why you look so happy?”

“Oh, no reason,” Lyla replied in a falsetto voice. “I just feel as if... As if two days from now, I’ll be a very different cat living a very different life.”

“Is that so,” Fleck said with a small smile. “I hope and wonder if you will be. What makes you think that? A moment ago you seemed ready to jump of a bridge, and now you are a ray of sunshine.” Fleck chuckled a little at this, even though she knew that she was taking risks with this little inquiry.

“I don’t really know,” Lyla replied, sounding a little uncertain. She was obviously getting uncomfortable. “Well, I’d, um, best be going. I have to wash the dishes in the kitchens... I have a busy day ahead of me.”

“I hope top see you later.” Fleck dipped her head in farewell. “You made a very good friend, and perhaps we will be able to talk again on my next guard duty here.”

“Perhaps,” Lyla said with a shrug. “But I might not have this job for much longer.”

Then she skipped happily away to avoid further questions. Well, they certainly took the bait, didn’t they? Fleck thought, an amused smile creeping across her face. And yet, she couldn’t help but feel some sense of regret. Wasn’t she just leading her friends into a death trap? Fleck reminded herself that they were her enemies and that it didn’t matter if they happened to fall in the final battle, but that somehow didn’t make her feel any better about her betrayal.

______________________________________________________________________

-KittyLover8

© 2013