Leaving Shavron was hard for Reiach. It was his birthplace and he was hoping to stay until he had seen ever Shavronite become a believer; but as divine providence would have it, he was gone. Phigaro had his lip poked out starring aimlessly into space.
“Are you o.k?”
“I'm bored. I need something to do.”
“How about a game?”
“Great, let's play “I spy!” he said excitedly. “I'll go first. I spy something all around us, it's clear, and its good to drink.”
Reiach looked to his left and then to his right. With a frustrated expression, the otter rolled his eyes.
“Is it water, Phigaro?”
“Wow, you're good at this!” said Phigaro happily.
Reiach's roll of the eyes was due to the simple deduction that they were in a small sail boat in the middle of the ocean. It must be explained how all of this happened. After deciding to leave Girgandale. Phigaro believed that it would be best to travel by water than by land; and since you already know that if Phigaro decided to go somewhere Reiach was sure to follow, they jumped into a boat at Girgandale and left. Neither of them had experience with the sailing, but the aye-aye conclude that it shouldn't be more difficult than learning to dress oneself. Needless to say, it was. Sailing was arduous for both of them and suddenly they had found themselves drifting further and further away from land. With little to no wind to carry the small ship along the sea they were stranded vulnerable to any outside force.
Both of them prayed for wind, a move in the current, or anything to push the boat along. But the hours went by and the boat stayed anchored to its chosen spot.
“Just one more game, Reiach, come on.”
“Water has been the answer for the past fifty times!”
“Come on, just one more.”
“Fine,” said the otter dreading the game.
“I spy,” said Phigaro looking around, “Oh, I spy something that travels on water, has a sail and is very close to us.”
Rubbing his noggin in anguish, the otter said, “Is it our boat?”
“Not ours but that one!” he said pointing.
About two miles to the west a massive ship was quickly gaining ground on their position. Both of them saw it turn immediate towards them as if it was magnetized to their sail boat. It looked to have traveled many miles, due to the grime and dirt that clung to the ship's hull. The sails that should have been a pearly white, were grimy and dappled with stains. No emblem on the sail greeted them, so neither Phigaro nor Revel could tell whether or not they were friend or foe. It was ten minutes before the large ship dropped its anchor about fifty feet away. The captain of the ship, a snow leopard, emerge to engage in conversation. He looked down upon the two with a smirk and kindly said,
“I need of a lift? We spotted you stranded. Lost the wind for your sails, eh?”
“Yup.” said Phigaro
“I understand completely,” said the captain smiling, “When I was just a lieutenant I managed not only lose the wind, but half my crew as well. I'll send two of my sailors over to help you aboard, how about that?”
“That will be great.” said Reiach.
A small row boat was lowered with two of the captain's crew. Once in the small row boat they were guided gradually over to the larger vessel, but along the way Reiach couldn't help but to feel that something was wrong. Maybe it was the way the slick smile emerged on the crews faces or maybe it was the first look the captain gave them, but with a slight laugh he put such thoughts aside. On board the Iron Cutlass, for that was the name of the ship, the two were greeted by five members of the crew including the captain. “I'm glad we found you.” said the captain.
“I'm glad you found us,” said Phigaro looking at the crew, “If it wasn't for you we could have been stuck out there forever.”
“Now we wouldn't want that now would we?” said the captain laughing, “Can I show you to you room?”
“Might as well,” said Reiach.
“A good rest would do me good.”
The snapping of the captain's finger initiated a turn of events that neither Reiach nor Phigaro could have foreseen. Suddenly from the crew, as if by magic, appeared a pair of chains with shackles. All possible escape was futile as another crew member revealed a spiked cudgel.
“It's the chains or the sharks,” said the captain, “You decide.”
Phigaro swiped at his assailants legs, tearing some flesh but not enough to prevent them for binding him. One of the crew members had the notion to break his arm, but a word from the captain saved Phigaro from the deed.
“No damaged goods. I want as much money as possible at the auction block.”
Reiach was kicked to the floor and pinned to the deck by the captain's foot on this chest. “How much will these two fetch?” said a sailor binding Reiach.
“Both are intelligent and are healthy,” said the snow leopard, “One thousand for every three months. We'll put them with the other hired slaves.”
Brutally chained and quite perplexed, Reiach and Phigaro were taken down into the hull of the ship. An immediate stench of wet fur and other foul odors hit them with such potency that a phase of nausea came over them. There were other captives all chained in different sections of the ship. Most were emaciated from lack of food and the down-trodden faces were enough to place fear in Phigaro and Rieach's hearts. They were tossed into a large cell with another captive that stood idly by in the dark shadows engulfing most of the area.
“About time,” said the figure, “I was beginning to get lonely.”
“And you're going to stay that way too!” said Phigaro putting up his fist, “Back up!”
“Hold on, hold on. I didn't mean to offend.”
From the shadows came a rooster. He was gorgeously embellished with sky blue feathers shaded with an orange underbelly. He was tall, five feet to be exact, and long feathery tail added to his commanding presence. His entire face, including his beak, had old scratch marks as if some animal had clawed him. After dropping his head in a bow, he continued to ease the captives fears.
“I have no intention of hurting you, while we are together. My name is Horatio.” Phigaro's eyes pecked open as if the very name a drawn a vibrant memory to the forefront of his mind.
“Horatio the Hurricane! The top prize fighting rooster, the undisputed champion, and the great brawler who topple seven opponents in one round! I heard stories about you.”
“That's me,” said Horatio smitten from the accolades, “It's always good to meet a fan.”
“So,” said Reiach, “why are you here.”
With a dumbfounded look the rooster replied.
“I'm not that great. I can fight seven, but apparently not eight. I was attacked one night by a group of the captain's thugs. I tried to tell them who I was, but my name seemed to make my capture even more tantalizing to them. Fame, like most things, is short-lived. I suppose the captain made you hired slaves, eh?
“Yes,” said the otter, “what's that?”
“Well, you are one of the chosen few who will be sold to one master after another until you are worked to death or the captain deems you to be worthless. You'll be sold in one country, picked up anywhere better three months to a year, and sold again.” replied the bird strutting around the cell, “Who knows: if one of your masters like you, you'll have the pleasure of being separated from you family and friends for the rest of your natural life.”
“Could you be any more drear?” replied Reiach. “Yup.” said the rooster bubbly.
Phigaro motion Reiach over to a corner in the cell.
“How are we to carry the name of Kleos abroad when we're stuck in a boat ready to be sold to any creature?”
“I don't know,” said Reiach hunching his shoulders. “The best thing to do is pray and let God work, and---”
“What are you two talking about?---there are no secrets when you're a slave.” Seeing that it wouldn't hurt to give the rooster the details, Phigaro stepped forward. “Glory.”
“Glory what?”
“That's who we were talking about. His real name is Kleos, but we call him glory because , well, he's that too. That's why we were stranding in the middle of nowhere. We left our native land under heavy persecution to travel around the world to tell any, if not all creatures, about the wonderful thing Glory has done.”
“What's so great about him?”
“He died.” said Reiach interjecting.
“So,” said the rooster scuffing, “Everyone dies.”
“But not for sins of the entire world! It's like this, Horatio,” replied Reiach taking a deep breath, “In Shavron there was a farmer named Kleos who was God in full as well as completely animal as we. He performed miracles, raised the dead, taught, challenged all thinking; but even greater than that, when we were enemies to God He loved us by sacrificing himself willfully and came back to life to give any who comes to him total assurance that if we would confess our sins he would rightly forgive us and live in us.” The bird said nothing. He circled the cell twice before looking at his two cellmates again. Phigaro picked up where Reiach left off.
“It's a change from what you were to what God makes you. That's the truth---that's the message!”
“Amazing,” the rooster said laughing with astonishment, “I never heard anything like it.” Horatio said staring pensively between the bars, “ A god who cares? A god who forgives the wicked? It must be a joke.”
Suddenly the rooster stood up straight, ruffled his feathers, and asked a question that startled Reiach more that Phigaro.
“He was an innocent creature. Who killed him?”
Since his conversion, Reiach had never spoken of his hand in the death of Kleos. He never thought about it because no believer ever challenged him. Now he was in a position almost impossible to avoid. Would he tell the truth, risking be beaten up by a professional fighting rooster? Would he lie, sinning against his very Creator and Lord? Or would he change the subject completely, hoping the rooster wouldn't catch on? The third option was the best and wisest.
“Lets avoid past occurrences.” said Reiach chuckling nervously. “The past should stay in the past.”
“Well I don't want it to.” said Horatio rolling his head, “Stop with all the fluffy talk. Tell me straight: who killed him?”
With a deep sigh, Reiach revealed the truth. “I did.”
“YOU!”
The rooster's jolly mien , which made him delightful company, suddenly turned sour. He arched his back, opened his wings, and scrapped the ground like a wild bull ready for a charge. Before Reiach or Phigaro was aware of this sudden change, the rooster sprinted toward the otter. Reiach stumbled backwards, slamming into the back wall just as Horatio pointed his beak four inches from the otter's face. For the first time, Reiach could see the deep scars across his face and beak. The marks of brutality, defeat, and victory had permanently burrowed themselves in his face, terribly disfiguring the bird. Eyes met; and if Horatio was engaging Reiach in a staring contest, the rooster would be the clear winner. Reiach quickly turned away. Phigaro stood awaiting the next move.
“All right, Horatio,” said the otter. “ if you're going to hurt me go right ahead I deserve it.”
“Nah,” shaking his head, “ I won't lay a feather on you. A thought came into my head: if this God of yours would forgive slime like you,” he said looking Reiach up and down. “ I suppose he can forgive any creature of anything.”
“And you would be right.” replied Phigaro jumping in quickly. “So how about giving my friend a little breathing room.”
With a grunt, the rooster returned to his spot at the cell bars. Weeks went by on the Iron Cutlass. Once in awhile the captain would emerge to check on the health of his cargo. Their health, of course was only in comparison of how they were fed. The average ration for the slave on the Iron Cutlass was three biscuit's a day. If generosity ever touched the captain's heart, a fourth biscuit was added to the meal. Horatio despite to vile treatment, managed his health very well. However, his cellmates were so weakened by the meager meal that they hardly walked just to save as much energy as possible. The rooster, seeing the plight of it all, would share some of his food with them.
The ship came to a rest for three days. Horatio could tell by the movement of the ship: it was steady, which meant it was anchored at some coastline. The captain came down with three of his crew and nearly dragged a jackal from a neighboring cell. The animal gave no struggle: most likely from the fact that it was to weak to do so. What Phigaro and Reiach could not see was the transaction between buyer and seller. However, the jackal would not be the only slave sold today. Another buyer made her way to the ship. The captain politely bowed, knowing that this was one of his most loyal customers.
“Bertha, how goes the day?”
Bertha was a grey wolf of great girth. She stood at nine feet, three hundred pounds and she was know for her short temper. He blue cloak was dirty with flour and pieces of raw dough, which came with her profession as a baker. On her head was a small straw hat that adorned a withering daffodil, which was probably the nicest thing about her. She took the captain's greeting with little recognition by keeping he eyes fixed on the ship. Her gaze seemed to penetrate the hull, inspecting ever slave still shackled inside. The captain repeated his greeting.
“Are you well, mad' am?”
“Fine,” she said sharply. “I need slaves. Three of them died last month and I need new ones.”
“I was hoping that you would return them,” said the captain regretting his financial loss. “I was hoping that they would live longer.” replied Bertha boarding the ship.
Below Reiach and Phigaro were engaged in making up a song. Horatio listened contently as Phigaro came up with this verse:
In trials and trouble
Let the winds come
In pain and woe
It brings fear to some
But Glory will silence all
On his name will I call
And if the pain returns
With God I’ll stand tall
“Not bad.” said Reiach, “You cut the rhyme, but it was well done.”
“I like a good rhyme. Let's see what you can do.” said Horatio.
“A challenge is it?” he said with a smirk
The otter cleared his throat and replied:
God is Light
Day or Night
With Him I have might
Despite any plight
He died and save me
Now all can see
That my soul has glee
And he can do it for thee!
Despite the glooming setting Phigaro and Reiach knew that it was always good to sing to God from the heart. Nonetheless the jubilant time would soon turn drier as Bertha entered the hull. She came to every cell with a scrutinizing eye asking every slave to come near the cell bars. There she pulled arms, grabbed ears, and yanked tails to her desire.
“These slaves are trash!” she said, snapping at the captain.
“You're getting sloppy with your choices.”
“I choose well, mad'am, besides a good slave is hard to find these days.”
Finally she came to Horatio's cell. The rooster upon seeing the wolf did not flinch nor change his bold stance. Reiach and Phigaro tip-toed to the back of the cell, hoping not to be seen. But Bertha's eye had already sized up the trio.
“I'll take all three of them,” said Bertha. “Chain them together.”
The trio left the ship unaware of the country they were in. The rooster looked around and with a smirk, that revealed he knew exactly where he was, he suddenly began to perk up. Bertha handed a bag of silver to the captain; and after signing a contract stomped her foot.
“Here, now!” she shouted to her newly purchased slaves.
The rooster, leading the train, confidently marched over to his new master. Bertha with hands on her hips gave her list of demands.
“Rule number one: when I tell you to do something, you mind your tongue or I'll beat you. Rule number two: Finish all my work, if not, I'll beat you even worse. Rule number three: If you run away, I'll find you and put you in an early grave. Do we all have an understanding.”
It was silent.
“Good!” said Bertha with a wicked smile. “If you do what I say , you'll stay alive.”
“Hey,” said Phigaro whispering to Horatio, “where are we?”
“Yelm.” said the rooster, “One of the nicer places for a slave to work.”
Bertha grabbed the slack around Horatio's neck, Bertha tugged on the chain and took her captives five miles to her home and business: Bertha's Baker. The Baker was on the first floor, while her abode rested snuggly above it. It was late afternoon by the time they arrived so the wolf only gave them three pieces of bread to fill their bellies. The meager meal came with a meager living conditions. A large wall closet, that was in need of good dose of fresh air, was the sleeping arrangements for the trio.
The following morning, Bertha set her slaves to task, showing them all the techniques for making bread, pastries, rolls, and cakes. She also placed rusty braces around their legs to mark them.
“I need one pounds of fresh dough by the end of the day.” she said directly, “And four cakes made and delivered to this address by four this afternoon.”
With that she left the shop without another word.
“I can't believe this,” said Phigaro kneading a lump of dough. “We're suppose to be telling creatures about God not making dough for a wolf who look likes she eats raw dough three times a day.”
“God will give us a way of telling His story.” said Reiach. “ But for now we better get finish with our orders.”
By mid afternoon all the cakes were prepared and the dough was kneaded to Bertha's standards. For the delivery, Horatio was hooked up to a cart. Reiach and Phigaro rode on his back through the streets. All the orders were delivered, but on the way back Reiach asked Horatio to slow down.
“What are you up to?” said Horatio, “We have to be back or…”
“I know, I know,” said the otter descrying an object a few feet away from him.
That object that suddenly caught the attention of Reiach was a circular platform standing in the middle of the town. He dismounted and casually walked over to it. He circled it, smiling as he did so and his friends, who thought he had lost his mind, were hoping that no one saw him. The otter hopped on the platform and slowly spun around.
“Reiach, are you all right?” replied Horatio coming over, “What are you doing?”
“To be honest with you I don't know.”
“Well we need to get back before Bertha---”
“YOU THERE!” came a voice from afar, “Are you speaking later this afternoon?”
A dumbfounded look came over Reiach's face. He had no plans of doing anything. A moose named Champ, strolled up to the three. He was middle aged and his face held many years of knowledge that was ready to be bestowed upon anyone who would ask for it. He already knew that they were slaves by their braces, but did not mention it. Champ repeated the question again.
“Are you speaking this afternoon?”
“Are slaves allowed to speak?” said Reiach.
“They can when I say so.” said the moose kindly. “I'm the governor in this town and if you have something to say be here tomorrow afternoon.”
“I don't think I have much to speak about.”
“So why are you on the platform.” the moose looking sternly at the otter. “Let me explain something to you. This platform is for any creature, free of course, to express their opinion about life. I make sure a crowd shows, if the crowd likes what they hear the message stays, if they don't the message goes away. I already know all of you are slaves,” he said looking at their braces again, “However, my benevolent heart is willing to see if you have a opinion of some kind--- so do you or don't you?”
Reiach looked at Phigaro. The aye-aye gave winked his crooked eye nod, affirming the very purpose of their travels.
“I do.”
“What is it?”
“It's not an opinion, but a fact. The fact that there is a living God who had died for sinners to bring them out of darkness into His marvelous light. So those who trust in him shall not be condemned to go to Hell, but will live eternally in Heaven with him. They will be changed by his work, not their own. Uh, that's just a summary of course.
“A summary?” said the moose surprised, “That's enough to cause a riot around here! Actually it would bring some life in this city. Who is your master.
“Bertha.” said Phigaro.
“Oh,” said the moose smirking, “She's a volcano. Came from Gosha about five years ago: had some trouble with her family and such. Started a bakery and was successful. I might be able to persuade her to give you some free time. You mention about work, what work is that?”
“God's Son.“ said Reiach, “Its his death that is the work. It is by grace, unwarranted favor, that any of us can go to Heaven.”
Champ said nothing. Champ didn't move.
“You killed him, Reiach!” said Phigaro, “His pea sized brain probably exploded into a million pieces.“
“Wow,“ said Horatio, “I didn't know a story about God could do that. How come my brain didn't explode?”
“God's word doesn't make brains exploded.” said Reiach, “Just calm down.” The otter snapped his finger, bring the moose from his stupor.
“My apologies I was just musing over what you said. Very interesting, I'll talk with Bertha.”
God was truly working things out. Not only did Champ talk to Bertha, he managed to convince her to let Reiach and his friends attend the gathering. His influence was impeccable, nearly diplomatic; and from Bertha's submissive stance, Champ seemed to have an authority oblivious to the three. Bertha was invited to come, but plainly said that her bakery was more important.
“I have a shop to run, sir, I cannot take time to dapple in a slave's nonsense.”
“Its not as much nonsense as you believe.”
Bertha smiled nervously. Reiach and his friends quietly watched as Bertha fumbled with her claws. A sign that she was irritated.
“My dear governor, a slave has nothing important to say, especially to me. I'll stay behind.”
“Come now,” said the moose calmly, “You cannot spear one hour just to listen. I've seen you at the square on numerous occasions listening to poetry and orations about life. Why is this time different?”
“Because it is.” she said gritting her teeth. “With all due respect, sir, I'm a free creature and I'll do as I please. You've already taken my slaves for an hour. My attendance is not required.”
“It is actually.” said the moose. “I will not be looking after your slaves, and as the master it is your duty to watch over them it's the law---for now.”
The grizzly bear wickedly smiled knowing that if Champ had not held a high position in the land, she would have ripped him to pieces right there. Composing herself, she gave into the demand and graciously asked her guest to leave. Once the moose was out of earshot, she slammed the door with such force that the sound seemed to shake the entire shop. Bertha slowly turned around as her eyes revealed her irate discontent over the situation.
“E-Everyone into the closet,” said Phigaro shaking with fear, “No sudden movements.”
“You, get over here.” she said to Reiach in a half growl.
“You embarrassed me!”
She immediately grabbed a rolling pin. “Hold out you hand.”
“Uh, do I have to.” said Reiach.
A dumbfounded look of “are you kidding me?” came over Bertha's face: Reiach held out his hand. The wolf raised the rolling pin and swatted the hand harshly. Reiach grabbed his hand in pain, stumbling to the side. Horatio and Phigaro made an attempt to assist him, but Bertha pointed the pin at them to abridge their rescue.
“Let this be a lesson to you too.” she said apathetically, “I don't like doing anything I don't want to do. Now, get in the closet before I crack your skulls.”
Gradually, the three inched back into the closet as their master locked the door for the night.