Silverfang

by Kainthegreat

Badrang the stoat tyrant was making his routine inspection of the beginnings of his fortress. The foundations for the walls had just been laid and now the stones were being set to erect the walls that would protect the fortress.

He had been walking around the Northern side when he saw some beast staggering up the beach. Growling he unsheathed a bone handled sword and rushed at the beast. He stopped ten feet from the beast with eyes wide. T'was a female wolf! Her silver fur was caked with blood and her once beautiful dress was torn and stained with fresh blood. In her paws was a small bundle of cloth.

Badrang growled and pointed the sword at the wolf, "What is your business here she wolf?"

The wolf cautiously held out the bundle to Badrang, "Please I do not have much time. My son..."

"I do not play nurse maid to whelps," Badrang growled.

"Please," she begged, "He'll be a good son, a good heir to your kingdom. He needs a father."

The wolf pushed the bundle into Badrang's free paw and he unwillingly took it. He gazed down at the small face of the sleeping wolf pup. Strangely the pup looked a lot like Badrang himself. A white stripe ran from the tip of the pup's brow to the end of his nose. The fur around his muzzle was gray save for the black tips on his eyes. Along his chest was a thick puff of white fur and his footpaws had black fur.

"Yes he will be a great heir to my lands." Badrang murmured. He looked up and was shocked to find the she wolf gone. The wolf pup whined and squirmed in Badrang's hold, the tyrant looked at the soft blue eyes that slowly opened, "Quiet that noise, tyrants do not whine." The blue eyes only looked quietly at him, "Now what to name you." He looked at the spot the she wolf had once been," Silverfang. Yes, to honor your mother's wise decision."

Badrang sniggered at the idea of having a son by his side that would be as powerful, clever, and cruel as himself. As the years passed he was becoming wrong on all accounts. As Silverfang grew he became more powerful and wiser than Badrang could have ever hoped to become, and as for cruelty...

Hisk slashed his whip at the unprotected back of a nearby mouse slave. The mouse yelled as each slash hit their mark.

"Sniveling fool," growled Hisk with pleasure in his voice, "I ordered you to hurry."

"I-I am sir," cried the mouse.

"I said stop you sniveling." Just as he raised his whip it went taunt, "Oi!"

Hisk turned his head slightly and saw the end of the whip being held in gray furred hands. Gulping Hisk looked slightly further along the hand to see a golden armband. Suddenly Hisk's whole body began to tremble. He looked up to the striped muzzle snarling at him.

Hisk's voce caught in his throat, "S-sire."

"Leave Jarren alone," the muzzle spoke in a voice that was calm and cold as ice.

Hisk tried to sum up his courage, "I'm just following my orders. I've got to make sure these slaves stay in line."

Suddenly Hisk was spun around to face a snarling wolf and he lost all courage he had as the wolf snarled at him, "They are fine."

Hisk starred from the strong black furred footpaws to the ragged slave clothing the wolf wore. Dumbly Hisk stammered, "Your father is not going to like this Silverfang."

Silverfang grabbed Hisk's neck, "You tell him. He can do nothing about it."

Silverfang threw Hisk to the ground. As far as cruelty goes, Silverfang had never been cruel to the slaves but when it came to Hisk and Badrang's other horde members he was as vicious as his father. Jarren, the mouse slave Hisk had been laying his whip upon, stood up and put a cautious paw on Silverfang's back.

"Thank ye much Silverfang," Jarren said softly, "but your father will be furious again."

Silverfang grinned roguishly, "What is lord Badrang going to do to me? Restrict me from working?"

Another mouse joked with Silverfang, "Maybe he'll tan your hide."

"Righto Martin. He just might." Silverfang said with mock horror in his eyes. He began to help Jarren with the block he was pulling, "Well might as well get some work done before Badrang arrives."

"Which would be now," replied Jarren solemnly.

Silverfang looked up at the glaring stoat walking towards him. Barring his fangs he continued to help Jarren pull the block. The stoat stopped near Silverfang with eyes shimmering with anger and his arms across his chest. Hisk and the fox named Skalrag hid behind the stoat. Silverfang only glanced at the stoat and returned to his task.

"Silverfang enough," growled Badrang.

"What was that Father? Couldn't hear you over this grinding Stone," Silverfang smirked.

Badrang growled and unsheathed his sword. He took a step forward and sliced the rope Silverfang had been pulling in half, "Now you can," he pointed his sword at Silver, "I have told you before, you are not to work with the slaves."

"T'is my choice,'' replied Silverfang coolly as he tossed the severed half of the rope away.

"Not any more," Badrang retorted, "If I catch you working with the slaves again, one shall be slain."

Silver knelt his head down in defeat, ''Very well, you win this round."

Badrang turned on one paw and walked towards the long house with a downcast Silver following. Jarren, watched the defeated wolf disappear into the building and let out a sad sigh.

Martin shook his head, "I guess Badrang can find punishment for Silverfang."

"Poor mate," replied Jarren solemnly, "too bad Badrang couldn't wait until Silver helped me move this block," he said as he tied a new rope around the enormous block.

Silverfang glared across a large oak table that rested in the dining area of the long house. His blue eyes gazed angrily into his stoat father's eyes dark eyes. The tyrant took a sip of damson wine from a golden cup that rested on the table while his wolf son did not touch his own.

Badrang put the cup down and spoke kindly to the wolf, "You have not touched your wine Silver."

Silverfang shook his head, "I could not drink from this while my friends toil in the heat with not a drop of water to drink."

Badranq narrowed his eyes, "The son of a tyrant does not befriend slaves."

"And why not," growled Silver while rising to his feet, "Why should they be working while I sit here sipping wine?" Badrang barred his fangs but before he could say anything Silver continued, "At least allow me to finish what at I have started and I swear I will not help them out anymore."

Badranh looked up at his son, "Very well, you may finish today, but after the sun sets you are no longer to be seen helping the slaves."

''Thank you Father," Silver picked up his cup of wine.

Jarren had only moved the block a couple of feet since Silver left. His paws were sore and his legs were at the edge of failing. He was about collapse when gentle paws held him up and walked him to the cool shadows beneath the battlements.

Silverfang handed his friend the cup of damson wine, "Drink this mate, you need it more than I do."

Jarren drankthe entire cup dry before replying, "Thank you Silver, but what about Badrang?"

Silverfang placed both paws on his hips, "Well he's got two paws of his own he can get his own cup o' damson. What do I look like his mother?"

Jarren laughed, "That's not exactly what I meant. I mean isn't he going to be mad that you're back here again?"

Silver winked, "Oh that's wot you meant? Nah he's letting me finish up today's work before I'm no longer allowed to work."

"Well mate, a little help goes along way," smiled Jarren gratefully.

Silver walked back to the block and pulled it across fortress grounds with ease. He covered the entire distance in seconds where it would have taken Jarren hours. Once he had finished he hurried to the stone quarries and helped the poor woodlanders, all the while being watched by the eyes of his stoat father standing on the battlements.

Skalrag spoke cautiously to his master, "Why are you i alowing him to carry on, your lordship?

"Silverfang is not one to sit around and do nothing," growled Badrang, "Unlike your miserable self."

Skalrag gulped and quickly changed the subject, "Shall, we inspect the building's progress. my Lord?"

Badranq nodded and turned away from the buildings wall. He climbed down the battlement stairway with Skalrag following shakily behing him.

Silverfang was helping Felldoh the squirrel carry in stores from the quarry when the fight broke out. He and the young squirrel watched as Martin attacked Hisk. Silver was about to join Felldoh in cheering the young warrior on save the sight of Badrang hurrying towards the fight caused him to drop his basket of stones and hurry towards Martin. He reached the young mouse in time to kick and throw Hisk and the other hoards beasts off of him before having to stand between his friend and the angry tyrant.

"Stand away Silverfang," Badrang growled.

Silverfang glared at his father and was about to say something when Martin gently pushed him away. Growling he returned to the quarries unable to witness the punishment the tyrant would deal to his friend. As he began his work an elderly squirrel walked quietly up to him.

"Silver, do you know what is to become of the young mouse that helped me?" asked the squirrel.

Silver shook his head, "I'm sorry Barkjon I left before I heard what Badrang sentenced him to."

"It is alright Silverfang," Barkjon replied while placing a kind paw on Silver's back, "I understand that you are not a tyrant like him and that you can not stand to see harm come to another creature. It is not your fault that he is what he is."

"I feel that in a way it is," Silver replied sadly, "I feel as though I'm not doing my part, to at least try and change his ways."

Barkjon shook his head, "You must remember that he is a stoat and that there is rarely good in vermin such as him."

"There must be a little in him, after all he did raise me, and I'm not exactly tyrant material."

"I understand, but…"

"Silverfang!" came Badrang's voice from behind them, "No more!"

Silver sighed, "So long Barkjon."

"Take care Silverfang."

Silver walked over to the glaring stoat just as he crossed his arms along his chest, "I no longer want you near the slaves."

"What did you do with Martin?" Silver interrupted the stoat tersely.

"That is none of your concern."

Silver growled, "It is my concern, he is my friend."

Badrang barred his fangs, "Tyrants do not befriend slaves."

"I'm hardly a tyrant."

"You are my son and you will act so!"

Silverfang clenched and unclenched his fangs, "Am I? I'm a wolf, you are a stoat! Or did you forget?"

With that Silver marched away from his father with his fur bristling from his head to tail.