Commissioned from  FortunataFox

Minto and Tarlo Greeneyes return to the court of their father, Milo Greeneyes, Emperor of Sandbeach. Both bring gifts of soldiers and slaves to the Lord of all Vermin, Master of all Slaves.

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Morland looked about, with the disappointed and depressed look of various slaves, some coming from Green Isle, others from other lands, giving his group a chilling look. Yet, what had made Morland surprised was the number of vermin slaves abound in the city as well. Many were Mossflower rats. He spotted one weasel who was at a smithy, with whip marks to his back, helping a free vermin build weapons. He wore an interesting and tattered black pair of pants, which were well worn, and were well armored. Morland had learned of these vermin, and knew that not even the black clad vermin of Kasg the Craven’s horde were safe. It was clear who was in charge of this place, and it wasn’t vermin, it was the cats. Several taunting feral cat children watched from heights above, and soon both the foreign soldiers and the slave were entering into the palace compound.

Opening an intricate wooden gate, well armored guards in green cloaks stood at attention as Minto and Tarlo led their processions inside. The floor was well cleaned, with the bright sun looking overhead as both groups passed through rows of well tended gardens. The soldiers were in utter joyful amazement at the prospects of serving a new and successful warlord, while Morland cringed to see several slaves in white sashes and clean clothes tending to the garden with fearful diligence. The group was led further into the compound as Tarlo and Minto stopped their groups to give a fair warning of expectation.

“My friends and soldiers, my father Milo is a proud wild cat from a strong line such as mine. Strong and noble blood runs through his veins, and he will give you comfort in his realm, but only if you kneel and serve him. You will be expected to do as he bids, and those who wish to leave now must do so before we enter.”

“You will kneel before your rightful masters, you miserable slaves, and if I see any single one of you who even thinks of standing up and yelling some proud speech will receive more than a lash. I will personally flay alive the first creature who steps out of line.”

The group entered, coming into a great marble court with sandstone pillars, decorated with the images of proud lions and gulls. The windows may have been wooden, but they were well decorated in symbols and shapes, with calligraphy in various languages filling the hall. The ceiling was a dome, wooden and painted with the images and symbols of two families, recently painted. Morland couldn’t help but look up and his eyes widened with fright, seeing the ancient tyrant Riggu Felis painted in a heroic caricature. He had no idea what it meant, but several otter figures in the picture bowing before him made him shiver. At the far end of the room sat two thrones made of marble but only one was filled.

A singular wild cat female sat facing the otters, her head placed with a silver diadem looking proudly at the two wild cat brothers. Tarlo addressed her to the crowd “Mother, we have come bearing gifts for the horde and searching father’s approval. I. . I had suspected him to actually be here by now.”

“My dear son. Your father is late because he is finishing up his meetings and sending out his messages. My son. . .” The lady cat frowned, looking more closely at her son, his face disfigured and beaten. She came over and angrily sneered, touching his face “Minto, you daft fool, what beast did this to you?! Was it one of these slaves! I will have the beast flayed here and no--”

“Nay mother, I have great news to grant to father. Twas a badger who did this to me, but not before I disfigured another! I saw them, momma. I saw the badger lord of Salamandastron with my own two eyes! I nearly slew him!”

The lady cat looked wide eyed and sank her eyes, cleaning her son’s face harshly “News indeed! Did not father tell you to leave them alone? His orders were too--”

“What Minto forgot to say dear mother, was that he wasn’t personally going off to challenge the badger lord, they came to him, while he hunted.”

Minto sneered at his brother. He didn’t like his stories being ruined by Tarlo, even when his all too perfect brother tried to protect him. Tarlo gave a weak smile and shrug as their mother continued to wipe his face “You will see a nurse for this, my son! You will see them now and get healed, and rest!”

Just then, a smaller cat came into the room and began to announce to the two groups. The gray foreign cats looked on in pride and anxiety, while the slaves hugged each other in fear, their shaking causing their shackles to clink. The cat announced the presence of the lord of Sandbeach’s coming, yelling loudly and proudly to the group.

“All who have come to bear witness to his highness and exalted one! Emperor of Sandbeach Isle, King of the Green Eyed Horde, Lord over All Vermin, Master of All Slaves, Usurper of the Throne to be, and Destroyer of the enemies of Two Families! Milo Greeneyes, Sultan and Lord!”

A cat and several others entered the court, a large and fearsome warlord in a green cape, with a white and green silk. He was an aged beast, but yet still youthful and filled with vigor as he strode confidently about. He wore a crown of orange and green gemstones, and a royal collar adorned his chest of beaten gold. Milo’s sons took their places next to their would be gifts as both slave and warrior looked on in awe. Morland lazily turned his attention to others who entered. One was a fat and bumbling creature, in much the same royal garb who took his place at the side of Milo’s wife, two were wild cats which gave approving glances at both Tarlo and Minto, a well armored rat who obediently placed himself at the side of Milo with a large spear, and a dormouse who followed behind the whole group, wearing a white sash and standing behind the throne itself. Milo peered with his eyes around the room and began to speak.

“Ah, my valiant sons return un--” He stopped, looking straight at Minto and seeing his disfigurement. Milo had to pause and re collect himself “Mostly unharmed. I understand fully I send you both out into the midst of danger, fully expecting you not to ever return, but yet both of you time and time again come back with gifts to not only me, but to our great cause. I see that one of you is injured, and that smirk is one of pride is it not Minto.”

Minto came forward and eagerly was boasting “It is! I have challenged a badger lord and lived, my father, and made him flee with his life!”

Milo was silent at first and bounded upward. He angrily called out his son “You dare go against my directives, you brat! I send you to raid otter settlements, and you tell me you are risking my plans by revealing our hands to our ancient enemies!”

“Nay, father! They came to me.” Minto could read his father’s expression, and his mother’s. He wanted the glory of facing and surviving a badger lord, but knew perhaps a sprinkle of truth wouldn’t get him in much trouble. Milo calmed himself and spoke out “I see, they grow suspicious of the raids then. Our attacks on Green Isle itself have not been unseen it seems, yet it does not matter. Our warriors are all nearly ready to strike at my command.”

Morland did not understand what was going on. Were these cretans planning to invade Mossflower? Take on the Long Patrol? Green Isle? By me rudder, anywhere but Green Isle!

Milo stood up, swaggering over to his favored son Tarlo. Compared to the two cats, the differences in appearance between both Tarlo and Minto were night and day. Tarlo was clean, well groomed, and stood at a humble attention as his father approached. As the cat tyrant came to look over his new stock, a taskmaster in the back of the room unfurled his whip and cracked it with a loud and thunderous lash. “Bow to the Lord of All Vermin, and Master of All Slaves! Kneel!” The foreign warriors kneeled and the slaves slowly approached the floor and groveled. The older otters were the slowest, their eyes angrily pacing but had only obeyed as to not cause trouble for their younger members of their families. The room was desensitized to the harshness, as Milo began to examine his son’s catch.

“My son, Tarlo. Apple of the eyes of my horde, and shining gem of my crown. Heir to all of what I and your grandfather had built, you yet impress me once again. I send you out to find pirate scum to swear their lives to my cause, and you bring me these obedient a foreign cats from the west! I recognize them, they come from the far southern shores, where domed temples and sandstone castles stand erect against the shore, where our peoples first began to flee from in their wake.” Milo put his paw to the jaw of one of the soldiers raising him up to examine him. He ran his paw through his teeth awkwardly, as if he were a slave himself, looking for a reaction. The soldier has known, but was creeped out for it. Once he was done, the soldier returned to kneeling.

“Very impressive, obedient and well trained! Well armored too, they will make good soldiers for my growing armies. Now listen, my soldiers. I will demand your fealty to me and to me alone, all other loyalties you have is null and void before my presence! I am Milo, Emperor of the Green Eyed Horde, and your lord. Serve me, and serve me well, and you will have new homes in a beautiful forest! You will have food from the tables of kings, weapons forged for warriors, and slaves a plenty to tend to your needs my fellow cats! Serve me and swear to me, and you shall have more than you could ever desire.”

The gray cats swore to Milo on the spot, a twinge of pride coming over him. He turned to Tarlo, pleased at what he was brought. Tarlo wanted to speak up it seemed, tell him the whole story, but Milo had already made up his mind and his own story in his head. Nothing but a valiant effort of domination and battle would please him. He then turned his attention to Minto, his once confidant smile slowly becoming an annoyed frown. If Tarlo was the apple in the eyes of his father, Minto was the scrap he fed to warriors if he was feeling generous. Minto was gruff, his face now valiantly disfigured, and smelled of sea salt. He may have been a good warrior, and slightly competent, but he was brash and rude.

“My son, Minto, once again I see your raids are successful, and you bring a strong lot of work beasts and slaves to serve my horde. Your encounter with the badger, will you tell us more of it?”
Minto went into a long and villainous rant “Aye, of course my Emperor! We were studying toward the least defended colonies of Green Isle as you commanded, ever since my last raids on Green Isle you said were ‘brash’ and ‘reckless’. So I decided to play it safer, brought a larger host of pirates and corsairs with me on my raiding. By the gods, five whole ships of the Long Patrol were there to greet us! Five whole ships, bristling with Hares and the Badger Lord himself. Along with several others. I slashed him across the face with my trident, but his wretched pup chased me off before I could finish him off!”

A rare tingle of pride washed over Milo, but was swiftly filled in with pragmatic questions “And per say, my son, did the battle go well?”

Minto could see already his father was disappointed. He relented and gritted his fangs “Nay. The Hares escaped and sunk several of our ships. We killed many, but they. . .they killed more of us.”
“A shame that all this glory was for not then. Tis a good thing you gave the badger lord a reason to look into our presence which your grandfather and I spent many seasons keeping secret as we prepared for our campaign. They had not even known we existed until you fought them. However, I cannot stay mad at you my boy, your. . .scars. . .will teach you this harsh lesson. We shall discuss these issues later.” Minto turned his attention to the kneeling otters and shrews before them, many were disheartened and fearful in his presence.

“I am Milo, and as much as I am Lord of All Vermin, I am also Master of All Slaves. You will be work beasts for my horde and live in my realm, working diligently as you build up my fortresses, and toil in the presence of your masters. I see many of you are otters who descend from Green Isle, and many of you mewling scum have seen I am certain loved ones and friends working in Sandbeach. I am here to tell you now, you will swear yourselves as slaves to my horde, or under pain of death you will perish.”

The slaves did not move or speak, until one older sea otter in the front, began to speak up. “We do not serve the likes of ya, Emperor o’ Misery, Tyrant of Sandbelch, Master of All but yer own hairballs! We are proud beasts, an’ free beasts! We will die like em’ as well!”

Dying didn’t really sound like a bad idea right now, at least, that is what Morland could think. He saw the horrors around him, the soulless dejection of miserable gentle beasts working without thanks, their only payment was in beatings and lashes for not working fast enough. However, Milo only gave an agreeable grunt and beckoned the lady cat on the throne to her side. She stood and the two hovered over the rebellious elder.

“I see a fire in your eyes, old beast.” The lady cat began “I am Lady Maria Greeneyes, but you may know me as Maria Felis, otter.” There was shock from the otters in the crowd, and a rather sudden realization. The Felis yet lived, and they were all staring at one. She hatefully looked at the elder and made a final demand “You have spirit elder, let me guess. A Wildlough?”
“Nay, Galedeep ye wretched lass.”

She grunted “Hmph. I can forgive a slave of their ignorance and their spirit, especially once it breaks. Kiss my signet ring, otter, and I will not have you lashed.”

The group watched on as the elder looked up in anger. He pulled his head forward to Maria’s extended paw, with a single orange ring on it with a golden depiction of the Felis crest. However, he jerked his head forward to viciously bite the hand instead, but wasn’t quick enough. Maria had pulled back her paw swiftly, and his head was soon in the grasp of Milo. Minto came over with a trident in paw, ready to strike down the elder.

“I shall deal with this lot personally father! I’ll have them decimated, guards get me a good axe!”

“Nay my son.” Milo smiled, choking the shackled elder in his paw. He squeezed as one of the family members next to him begged “Please my lord! Spare him! My father didn’t mean to! Please.”
Milo continued to choke the elder as he stared down with a cruel smile. With a sudden jerk of his wrist he snapped the otter’s neck as he fell to the floor, those who were close to him scrambled and mourned him. Milo looked to the group who looked on in fear “Death comes to those who do not serve, and you shall all serve, or face a far worse fate. I can have you all boiled alive, as you listen to your youngest boil and burn. Now get this lot processed captain. Be sure to treat them harshly, and drain the spirit from them.” Morland and the others were dragged away, giving a last cautionary glance as the dead elder was dragged off to be buried elsewhere. The group did not resist, fearing the tyrant would keep his word.