User blog:Astar Goldenwing/Cripple

'''This is a fan fiction story by Astar Goldenwing. It is not considered canon, nor is it a policy or guideline.'''

This story is dedicated to Segalia Riverstorm, a good friend and faithful reader. Thank you for sparking the idea that inspired this story. In one of the comments to my other story, ‘For Freedom’, she noticed how interesting it was that the hero used wit and not skill to defeat her opponent. And I thought: what if the story’s protagonist was physically weak and small? And what if, to add injury to insult (literally), he was crippled as well? That’s how the main character was born, and the story soon followed.

In this story, one season equals one year.

Feel free to comment at the end and correct mistakes if you want.

Prologue. Captain’s son
Stars shone quietly, casting their silver light over the waves of the Northern Sea. Bright light of crescent moon was pouring down on one of the villages on the shore, which was almost undistinguishable in dark of the night. The only thing giving away its presence was a light shining from the windows of a big house closer to the outskirts.

Inside the house, a large wide-shouldered ferret poured himself a cup of grog. One could see that once he was quite a handsome beast, his eyes deep blue and the mask across his face jet black. But now his light gray fur went dull and his face was puffy, what inevitably happens to those who spend too much time in company of grog.

He lifted his head from the cup when a door to the next room opened and a very young and small vixen limped heavily for a basin of hot water streaming on the table. “Show me my son, Viscum!” the ferret demanded.

The stooping vixen, whose pelt was a muddy brown hue, shook her head. “Not so fast, Captain Razorclaw. Giving birth ain’t easy, and for your wife it’s especially difficult, considering all the complications she had while expecting the baby.”

For the rest of the night, Viscum was attending to the laboring mother, while Razorclaw was pouring himself a cup after cup of grog. Sometimes his muttering could be heard. “My child! A son, no doubt. A strong little fighter, he’ll grow up into a proper pirate. A son of the mightiest Captain in all of the seas, right paw of Captain Razorclaw! Nobeast would stand against us two, especially that thief Redtail!”

It was about dawn when Viscum called Razorclaw to see his wife and newborn baby. A thin ferretwife lay in the bed, her light brown fur reddish against white sheets. In her paws she cradled a small bundle, a weary smile on her face.

“You’ve got a son, Captain,” said Viscum and reached for the baby. The ferretwife clung to the bundle, as if afraid of the midwife harming her treasure, but she was too tired to protest. The vixen took the bundle from her and unwrapped it, showing a tiny scrawny ferretbabe.

“Why it is so small?” Razorclaw poked the baby with his claw, and the little creature immediately began to cry. “It can’t even clutch to my paw! This weakling’s crying like a wretched mouselet! I ain’t need a useless runt for a son!” he almost shouted.

“Please, Razorclaw, don’t get angry,” begged his wife.

“What you’re talking about, Captain?” sniffed Viscum. “You have a healthy, strong son. All newborns are so small, and they all cry while young!”

“I ain’t need a useless runt for a son!” the father repeated. The night in spent with a cup of grog surely couldn’t pass without leaving a trace on him.

“Your son ain’t a runt,” said the vixen and handled him a small flask. “Drink this, Captain.”

Almost reflexively Razorclaw took a big sip as soon as the flask was in his paws. “Yay! That’s no grog!” This statement was interrupted by a yawn. “Auf, I’d bette’ rest awhile,” he uttered and left, almost stumbling over his own paws.

His wife sighed with relief. “Thank you, Viscum.”

The midwife handed her the baby and sat on the edge of the bed. “Not at all, Naita. Sometimes I wonder how you can bear the Cap’n’s temper.”

Naita lowered her voice since the baby stopped crying and began to doze off. “He was different when I’d met him. Brash and stubborn and short-tempered, but kinder and not so ruthless, and he wasn’t drinking so much. And he loved me, I know he did.”

“But now he cares only about himself.”

“He took it hard when his crew had rebelled and thrown him down. I don’t blame that on Redtail, for Razorclaw had some bad luck with raids back then. Anyway, he used to be a respected Captain, and then he became a nobeast without a ship or a crew. The rest you know… he just keeps wreaking his anger on me.”

“You’re a patient beast, Naita,” sighed Viscum. The vixen cheered up a bit as she changed the subject. “I think I had no time yet to congratulate you with your baby. Double congratulations, since it was a difficult birth and you had lost your first baby even before it was born.”

Naita rocked her baby slightly as her black eyes filled with tears. “You would’ve had a big brother or sister by now, little one, if I hadn’t caught that fever in the most unfortunate time… but you’re safe, little one, I won’t let anybeast harm you…” The ferretwife looked at Viscum out of the corner of her eye and asked shyly, “You… you told Razorclaw the truth, right? My son is not a runt, is he?”

The midwife uttered a sigh and slowly shook her head. “No. I lied to your husband. Your son is too small even for a newborn, and he’s rather weak, too. Your pregnancy was a difficult one, and it had taken its toll on both of you.”

Instinctively, Naita clasped her son tighter. “Oh no, please… Razorclaw wanted a strong son so much… What would he say once he learns his son won’t be what he wants? And what shall I do?”

There was no answer to these questions.

Chapter 1. Broken lives
“Hey you! Ya, you, worthless furball! Come here this instant!” A small ferret dropped pebbles and twigs he was playing with when he had heard Razorclaw’s voice. His mother was in a small orchard behind their house, and that meant his father would come for him instead. The babe darted for his hideout behind a pile of firewood, but he couldn’t get there fast enough.

Razorclaw had heard a faint scratching behind the wood. “Got you, useless maggot!” He growled and dragged his son out of his hideout. The babe wriggled in an attempt to escape, and Razorclaw shook him roughly by his nape. The thin and scrawny ferretbabe hung limp in Razorclaw’s grasp, his fragile build a contrast to his father’s powerful bulk. Razorclaw grimaced as he looked over his son. He despised that pitiful appearance – and the worst part of it was that the babe looked a lot like him despite inheriting Naita’s build and features. And yet his son’s traits seemed to be a mere parody of Razorclaw’s: that dark grey fur that was giving impression of being constantly dusty, that wan blue-greyish eyes, that dirty-grey mask on the babe’s face – it all resembled a cruel joke of the nature.

“Now you go to the tavern keeper and bring me a bottle of the best grog!” snapped Razorclaw.

His son just shook his head and mumbled, “He… he said ye won’t get anythin’ unless ye pay…”

“Wh-whaat?!” Razorclaw was so furious that he had dropped the babe. “Me, Cap’n Razorclaw the Fierce?! I was roaming seas before that dumb rat was even born! I’ve killed more enemies than there’s hairs in his bold pelt! Even Stark the Stormfang himself was afraid of me! I!.. I…” Running out of arguments, Razorclaw kicked at his son. The little beast shied away, but his father’s kick still sent him crashing on his back.

“Kyle!” Attracted by Razorclaw’s shouting and the babe’s wail, Naita ran into the yard and threw herself on her knees next to her babe. With seasons, the ferretwife had become even more thin and tired-looking, her night-black eyes gained wrinkles at their corners. When she spoke to her husband, her voice was pleading. “Please, Razorclaw, don’t you shout like that…”

“This is my house and I do whatever I want! Don’t you order me what to do!” bellowed the former Captain and drew nearer.

Naita rose to face him, and Kyle backed away from his father. Knowing his temper, Naita kept her eyes down so not to enrage Razorclaw. “I never tried to order you anything, I’ve just said…”

“You’ve got no say!” Razorclaw roared and hit his wife in the face. “You live in my house and eat out of my loot, so when I say I want grog, you bring it!”

Naita swayed from the blow but didn’t back away. “All right, as you say! There’s some wheat beer left…” Knowing Razorclaw’s weakness for drinks and the prices of the local tavern keeper, Naita brewed some beer by herself out of their meager harvest of crops. She was no wine-maker, though, and her husband knew it.

“That wish-wash ain’t good enough to rinse linen in it! You gonna take out the loot you’re hiding from me and buy the real grog, the best kind!”

When Razorclaw’s pirate career had just come to the end, he brought a sizable amount of loot with him, large enough to support their family for a while. Naita had it hidden in a secret safe place in their house, too afraid that her husband would waste it on grog. However, about half a season after Kyle’s birth, Naita came home from the tavern where she bartered some loot for food to discover their house turned upside down. Whoever the burglars were, they found the safe spot and took all the loot. Razorclaw was blind drunk that day and slept through the whole break-in. When Naita had told him what happened, he called her a liar and a thief. He’d been home all day, he said, wouldn’t he notice if somebeast came in? No, he said, she stole his loot and now was making excuses!

Razorclaw would still accuse Naita of stealing his loot now and then, taking absolutely no notice of the fact that it was only the harvest of crops and vegetables grown in Naita’s orchard that fed them all; he wasn’t actually paying attention to where the food was coming from.

“Razorclaw, I’ve told you before, the loot was sto-”

“Liar!” Razorclaw slapped his wife with enough force to throw her a couple of steps away.

Kyle, watching the scene from near his woodpile shelter, could take it no more. “Don’t hurt Mama!” he cried, throwing himself at his father and pounding his hindpaws with his tiny fists.

“Ha!” Razorclaw sent the small ferretbebe reeling with a sweep of his paw. “Get lost, whelp! It’s a shame to have such a measly runt for a son!”

“Kyle isn’t a runt!” argued Naita, pressing her paw to the aching cheek. “All little ones are small in this age. After all, Kyle is just five seasons old, he’ll grew up when time comes!”

Actually, Kyle was almost two seasons older than she claimed, but his fragile build and Razorclaw’s lack of interest in his son allowed Naita to deceive her husband and avert Razorclaw’s fury.

“Ha! Redtail’s son is already bigger than that weakling! And he’d been born after your son!” raged Razorclaw.

“Redtail is a fox, Razorclaw! Foxes are naturally bigger than ferrets!” Naita tried to appeal. “Believe me, one day Kyle will make you proud!”

“He’d better!” grumbled the big ferret, somewhat soothed. “Now, go and get me some grog, you silly female!”

Naita mumbled agreement. For uncountable time during last days, a thought of leaving crossed her mind. This violent drunkard wasn’t the Razorclaw she had fallen in love with so many seasons ago. He would hardly even notice if she took Kyle and went away. Kyle… As usual, thinking about her son made Naita’s heart gripe with love and fear. He was so small and frail… Could he bear hardships of the journey? Long marches on foot, days without meals, nights spent under rain and snow? No, it would be better to wait a bit, just a little bit, till Kyle grew stronger – a season, maybe, - and then they both would leave these places and never return.

And as for now, she needed to find grog for Razorclaw. Naita walked toward the village’s tavern. While she walked, her paw touched her waist where a secret pocket was sewn on. There lay the only piece of jewelry she owned. Treasure-hunters and looters would have dismissed it as a little more than a trifle, but Naita would not have traded it for a hoard of gold: it was her mother’s family ear-ring, the only thing she had left of her. Naita had only one of the pair, and the frame was plain old silver, darkened with age, a middle-sized pearl being its only decoration. Even the pearl was faulty, though: it was misshaped and tear-like, its narrow part chopped off as if broken.

Naita wished there was some other way to get her husband grog. But the vegetables she grew weren’t ripe yet, and they would starve in winter if she had harvested them now. She had to sell the ear-ring. The ferretwife slowed her pace and rapidly changed directions, leaving the tavern behind. She wouldn’t sell the pearl, she would go to Viscum and pawn it. Viscum was her only friend, she wouldn’t refuse to keep it till Naita was able to get it out of pawn. May be Viscum would brew a soothing potion to help Razorclaw deal with his temper as well…

Razorclaw’s mood only darkened after Naita had left. The ferret hadn’t been used to staying away from grog for long. He was pointlessly circling the house and the big yard, his ire rousing with every step. Kyle knew his father’s mood too well and sat in his hideout, as silent as a mouse. With nobeast to vent upon his anger, Razorclaw’s temper was about to snap – all he needed was a trigger.

“Hi, Razor!”

The big ferret roared, whipping around at the sound of familiar voice. “Get out of here, ye worm!” When he saw who called him, Razorclaw’s eyes bulged and his teeth gnashed. “You?! Curse you, Redtail, ye foul scoundrel! Go to the Hellgates and hang yerself on yer own guts!”

“Nice to see you too,” smiled the tall fox that jauntily leaned on a short fence marking the yard’s borders.

Razorclaw growled in return. The fox and the ferret were deadly rivals for many seasons, and Razorclaw considered him the mortal enemy. To add insult to injury, Redtail had been chosen the next Captain of Sharpblade after her crew refused to obey Razorclaw. No wonder the ferret Captain could go mad at the only sight of the one who was now sailing his ship and commanding his crew.

“Aargh, what do you want here, ye scummy thief?”

“Just came to see if you’ve drunken yourself to death already. Want a bit of advice, Razor?”

“I ain’t need your stinky advice!” roared the ferret.

However, Redtail went on anyway. “Don’t push your wife around like you do. Do you realize how blessed are you to have such a patient and kind beast for a wife? Oh, and you can say your runty son to come round my place and play with Crimson any time he likes.”

“My son ain’t a runt! I’ll rip yer paws out of their joints!” shouted Razorclaw. He could think his son was a disgrace all the time, but hearing it from the other beasts was much worse.

“Oh, he is. Nonetheless, my son told me you shouted at him when he tried to play with your lad. If you don’t like babes playing in your house, your son can come and play to mine.”

“Blood’n’claw! My son ain’t mixing with low scum like you, Redtail!”

The tall fox snorted; for the first time during the conversation, he really was offended. “I’m no lower than you, Razor – we used to sail the same ship, after all. If you think you are any better just because you were a Captain and I was a steerbeast – well, that’s a bunch of trash!”

“Cha! Who are you but a thief, foxface! But I – I’m Razorclaw the Fierce, I defeated Stark the Stormfang in single combat, I…”

Redtail slammed his paw down the fence with a thump. “Nobeast cares what you did who knows how many seasons ago – what matters is that now you’re no more than an old useless drunkard!”

“Shuttup! Shuttup and go to the Hellgates!” Razorclaw charged the fox, and in his fury he threw himself right over the fence to get his enemy. Redtail whipped his sword and, not even bothering to remove the weapon out of sheath, slammed the hilt in Razorclaw’s chin. A moment later, the fox’s fist connected soundly with his stomach, and Razorclaw crashed facedown in the dirt.

“Still think you’re the greatest?” Redtail asked with contempt. “You would’ve had my respect if you had kept on fighting during hard times, going in raids to support your family as we all had. Instead, you prefer to drown yourself in grog. Bah! That’s what I think about you!” And he spat, barely missing the ferret’s paw.

Razorclaw growled and attempted to get up, but Redtail was already leaving. Before disappearing behind other houses, the fox turned and addressed Kyle, who peeped out of his hideout, “Feel free to come over to us any time, lad. The farther away from your Dad is the better.”

“Bite yer tongue off, ye yellow-livered slynosed coward!” roared Razorclaw at his rival’s back. He was boiling with rage. How dared that ragpelt treat him like this? He’d kill him, cut him to pieces and feed to fish…

A faint patter of footfalls behind his back attracted Razorclaw’s attention – that was Kyle darting into the home. “Out of my sight, runt! Let me catch one more glimpse of ye an’ ye’ll be sorry, worm!” His hatred had easily found a new channel. Redtail had come here because of the runt, because he had wanted to mock him. The runt was the reason of it all! It was that weakling who made him, Captain Razorclaw the Fierce, into a laughing stock! That shipstealer was thinking Razorclaw is weak just because his son is weak! But enough is enough! decided the cruel ferret. That runt is nothing more than a disgrace!

“You measly!!” bellowed Razorclaw like a wounded badger. “Show yourself, or I’ll break your every bone!” Of course, there was neither sound nor movement in the yard. Kyle had learned seasons ago that he’d better stay away from his father. Razorclaw wasn’t the type to use subtle approach, but this time he decided to change his tactics as an exception. “Um… Aa… Come out, what’s-your-name,” he said quietly, trying to make his hoarse voice sound friendly. “Come out, please. Er, look, I’m sorry I shouted at you. I won’t hurt you, promise. Come out, there’s a surprise for you.”

Kyle was perplexed. He had never heard his father talk like this before – he was usually shouting and beating him whenever he had a chance. And with the child’s naivety Kyle believed his kind words and poked his head out of the house door. “S-surprise?”

“Yeah, surprise,” Razorclaw forced himself to smile. He wanted to pounce on the runt right now, but he knew that just one wrong move would cause his son to run away and hide, and then getting him out would be almost impossible. He had better lure him outside. “We’re going to raid seagull nests and get us some nice tasty eggs. Would you like it?”

“Yeah! But… but does it mean we have to climb all the way up the cliffs? I- I can’t climb that high.”

Any normal babe would’ve been happy to do some climbing – but I’m stuck with this weakling for a son! Aloud, Razorclaw said, “Hmm, well, then we can go pick some berries. We can go up a beaten path and not climb.”

Kyle nodded, his eyes shining with joy. “Will Mama come?”

“No no, it’s a surprise. Imagine her coming home and seeing us with a basket of berries for lunch, huh?”

There was a mass of crags some distance away from the vermin village; it was there where Razorclaw had led his son. Kyle was chatting like a squirrel when they had left the house, but then he fell silent, seeing his father’s sullen look. However, it couldn’t spoil the babe’s mood: going out for the berries was enough to make him happy, even if he had to stop often to catch his breath.

The ferrets had reached about the halfway up one of the crags when Kyle got completely exhausted. He plopped down on the path, breathing heavily. “L-let’s rest, please,” he asked. “C-can’t walk any m-more…”

Razorclaw decided it was the right time and place. They were standing on a narrow mountain path; on the right a sheer rock wall raised upwards, and on the left a rather steep cliff abruptly ended into a precipice. “Get yer rest in Hellgates, runt!” Razorclaw grabbed his son by his neck and hit him against the wall. Kyle could only squeak when his head, shoulders and right flank collided with hard stone. Razorclaw dropped the limp form of the ferretbabe and, laughing, kicked it so the body tumbled over the cliff. Now nobeast would call him weak!

Chapter 2. No way back
First, there was only emptiness, then – darkness. Then came light and, finally, bright spots began to dance before his eyes. Kyle had to squint to make them form into a blurry picture: a strange creature bowing over him with a worried look in his face.

“So, you’re awake, little one,” the stranger beast said in a muted voice. “Lie still and don’t talk. You are badly wounded.” Then the creature turned for a cup with some kind of mixture, and Kyle had a chance to descry him better. Kyle had never seen such a beast before. He looked unlike any familiar kind of vermin: bigger than stoat, but smaller than fox, with oval head, large hazel eyes and long ears. Judging by his silvery fur, the creature was rather old.

“Now, drink this, little one,” the creature brought the cup to Kyle’s lips, but as Kyle tried to raise himself a little to drink, terrible pain pierced his body, and he felt like being bound paw and foot. “Hush, don’t move,” the old beast gently put the paw on his chest and made him lie down.

The mixture wasn’t as nasty as Kyle had expected, and it eased his headache. “Wh-who are you?” Kyle managed to whisper.

“My name is Conrad, but you can call me Connie, just like my old mistress used to call me before she had passed away.” Conrad chuckled gently at Kyle’s puzzled look. “Oh, you’re asking about my species? Well, I’m a rabbit. I guess you don’t often see them in that village of yours. And… oh my, where are my manners? Welcome to my home, little one!” Conrad spread his paws widely, and Kyle looked carefully over the room he was in.

They were in a big cave with the daylight falling in through a hole up in the wall. Behind Conrad’s back, Kyle could see a fireplace made in a hollow; there were no fire in it now, but the ferretbabe saw a crack that served as a chimney. Most of the furniture seemed to be made of stone: table and two low benches were just boulders chopped atop and polished, and a few cracks in the wall were converted into a cupboard.

“You’re lucky, little one,” smiled Conrad. “Not everybeast would survive such a fall. I’ve found you at the bottom of the cliffs two days ago, and all these two days I was afraid you wouldn’t make it.” Kyle yawned. The rabbit’s voice drifted further away from him, and Kyle felt dizzy. However, Conrad didn’t seem to notice it. “Head concussion, damaged collarbone, two or three broken ribs, then there’s your leg…”

Kyle didn’t hear the rest. His eyes shut, and he fell asleep again.

Kyle woke up with a start, panting heavily. He had never seen nightmares before, but now he was frightened to the bones. As he tried to move, a dull ache reminded Kyle he was supposed to lie still.

“What happened, little one?” It was dark in the cave except for a single lantern filled with fireflies, but Conrad immediately was at his patient’s side. “How do you feel?”

“I’m okay,” whispered Kyle, ignoring the first part of the question. “But my right leg feels numb.”

The old rabbit obviously drooped. “Well… It’s newly splinted and it… Well, you’ve broken your right leg badly by the fall. You see, my wife used to be a healer, and I came to know such things a little bit… Your thigh-bone was fractured in several places, and… I treated it as good as I could, but I’m afraid the bone wasn’t set right.” He sighed again. “I know you have good healers back in the village who can still reset your bone, but you were not in condition to bring you here. Now, if your health doesn’t become worse at the morning, I’ll bring you back home. You are going to see your Mom and Dad soon, little one!”

Dad. At the sound of this word a terrible sight flashed before Kyle’s eyes, a nightmare he had tried to forget so hard. His father, shouting at him and throwing him against the rock.

“What’s wrong, little one?” worried Conrad as tears gushed from Kyle’s eyes. “I didn’t say something foolish, did I? Then I’m sorry, so sorry!”

The ferretbabe couldn’t utter a word, tears were strangling him, and he could only sob uncontrollably.

“Here, little one,” Conrad threw his paws round Kyle and held him tightly. “You’re safe here, with old good Connie, and everything will be alright. Sh-h, don’t cry, little one… If you want to tell me what’s wrong, I’m here to listen. If you don’t, well – don’t say it, all right?”

After some time, Kyle managed to take a deep sigh and mumble, “It was him. Him. Him who threw me off the cliff. My father.”

“Wh-what?” the old rabbit was so astonished he could hardly believe his ears. “It – it wasn’t a fall by accident? Your father did it on purpose? I- I know vermin are cruel, but… What kind of monster would do that to his own son?”

“My father,” repeated Kyle. “He always says I’m a disgrace to him, useless runt and weakling…”

Seeing his patient ready to start crying again, Conrad pulled the little ferret close to himself. “What’s your name, little one?”

“Kyle…”

“You don’t want to go back to your father, do you, Kyle?”

Kyle shook his head, but then hastily froze. “I don’t want to see… him, but I want to go back to my Mama. I love her.”

Connie fell silent for some time and spoke slowly. “Tell me where you live and what’s your Mama looks like, and I’ll try to sneak to your village and talk to her. She will be able to get you to the healers for proper treatment. And after that… my mistress’n’me have never had children, and there’s a place for three in this cave. And if she decides to take you and leave these shores for good – the old rabbit is always ready to accompany you on the way. What do you say?”

The ferretbabe looked at the rabbit through the tears in his eyes. Was he serious? Was it possible to live without fear, without need to hide from every rustle? Finally, Kyle smiled and nodded.

However, a beast’s plans and their fate rarely coincide.

Conrad managed to sneak into the village the next day, but Kyle’s mother was nowhere to be found. Conrad had spent a day and a night waiting in the shadows of Naita’s orchard for nothing: there was nobeast but Razorclaw drinking his guts away. The old rabbit tried asking Kyle if his mother had any close friends, but the babe was of little help: his father never liked having outsiders in the house, even if they were friends on a visit. With no other ways to learn the truth, Conrad had spent some time skirting the backyards in hopes of picking rumors, but all he managed to find out was that Naita disappeared at about the same day Kyle was thrown off the cliff.

It was seven days till Conrad finally had given up, and seven more days till Kyle’s tears had been all cried out. Then the two beasts, the elder and the babe, talked quietly, and it was decided that Conrad’s cave was big enough for two.

Yet there was one matter that couldn’t be agreed upon.

“Look, Kyle, this leg of yours is no joke. It’s a bad break and not the type where you can just splint it and wait till it heals. You need the help of qualified healers to fix it properly, and fast, or you risk becoming lame for the rest of your life.”

“No, I won’t come back, I just won’t!”

“I never asked you to come back to… that beast, just to the healers. I’m a rabbit and can’t simply walk in and talk to them, but I can contact them. Say, leave them a note to meet you in some safe place where they can treat you without haste.”

“But what if they don’t let me go once they heal me? What if they take me back to him? I don’t want to go there, Connie!”

“Great seasons, Kyle, it’s not about you wanting to do something or not! If you’re not seeing the healers, you are becoming crippled, and that’s it.”

The ferretbabe raised his chin stubbornly. “As long as I don’t have my leg chopped off or something, I’d rather be a cripple, and that’s it!”

And that was the final decision.