Ivan: Book 1: Chapter 1

Book 1: The Tower

Chapter 1

The morning sun shown bright, but the unfortunate creatures of Vildeton lived in darkness. Especially to the slaving creatures who worked themselves to exhaustion and near death. To them, the sun was a mere glowing beacon that reminded them that they still had many hours left before they would be allowed rest. As the many squirrels, otters, mice, and raccoons labored the day away, the so called soldiers of Klangor the Conqueror watched, ready to lash out at any who they felt were working to the fullest of their credentials.
One of these, the cruel slave-driving weasel Snater, sneered in disgust at a weak mouse who was struggling with pulling a cart full of rocks from the quarry. Snater ran the coiled whip through his paws as he watched the mouse get closer. The young mouse slowly walked past him, panting and breathing hard as a result of his toils. He only paused long enough to wipe the sweat from his brow. As soon as he did this, Snater snapped his whip mere inches from the mouse’s tail. He then bowled the mouse over with a hard kick. The mouse looked up at the wicked weasel who was wearing a smile of satisfaction.

“Come on now lazybones,” Snater said. “Up on yer paws an get back to work! The sooner you get to work, the sooner you can be done. And the sooner you’re done, the sooner I can go back to camp and take a nap. The sooner I take my nap….”

“Oh shut-up you dimwit,” another voice grumbled, this one belonging to the commanding officer of the slavers. A tough looking weasel captain named Olot.
“All this time you’ve wasted rambling on could’ve been better spent putting this scum to work!”
“Don’t tell me to shut-up, you!”
“I can tell you to do whatever I want,” Olot said proudly. “I serve directly under General Turbus!”
“Ha!” Snater laughed. “Turbus ain’t here, you moron.”
“That as it may be,” Olot replied coolly. “I can still report you. See if you’d be laughing then…”
“Well,” a passing ferret intervened. “We’ll all be in for it if we don’t get these slaves to work.”
“Right you are, Clamor,” Olot nodded and then gave the mouse a stiff kick to his side. “Right, mouse! Off the ground. Nap time’s over. Get that cart moving or you’re hide will be my throw rug!”
Snater gave a quick snap of his whip and the mouse scrambled to his footpaws. Another snap sent him hauling the rocks towards its destination, a bigger area in which more slaves worked on Klangor’s prized legacy… a huge tower that already reached high up into the air. The mouse kept silent but in his mind, he was cursing these vermin. He dared a glare back at Snater, who was following him, making sure that he would not take any unnecessary breaks. Fortunately for the mouse’s well being, Snater was not looking at him. He was busy lashing out at a squirrel with an injured paw. What wicked bullies! The day was coming…the day when these vermin would get what was due to them. One day, freedom would once more reign over the land….
The young mouse was not alone in these thoughts of freedom, for another young mouse, more rugged and strong looking, watched the cruel actions of Snater. His eyes turned into a fierce glare and his lip in an angry curl as the weasel cracked a whip across the cart puller. He too had a hatred for these vermin that was reaching a boiling point. Snater was lucky that Ivan was that he was chained with two other creatures or else he would have to deal with the mouse’s pickaxe.

Snater caught sight of Ivan’s icy stare and a shudder ran down his spine. For a brief moment it appeared as if fear was in the eyes of the weasel. However, with a blink, that terror gave way to anger.
“You!” Snater shouted, pointing his coiled whip in the direction of Ivan. “Stop yer daydreamin’ an get back to work!”
As soon as those words had exited Snater’s mouth, a nearby stoat struck Ivan on the back of the head with his swordbutt. The blow was not hard enough to knock Ivan unconscious, but it was enough to knock him to all fours.
“You heard ‘im!” the stoat sneered as he kicked sand at the fallen mouse. “Pick yerself up an’ git to crackin’ those rocks!”
Without a single word, Ivan picked himself up and went towards the rock pile the stoat had been pointing at with his sword. A trickle of blood ran down the back of his head but Ivan did not feel the pain… anger was all that he felt.

The hours seemed like days as the slaves continued to work in the hot sun. Ivan brushed sweat from his brow and looked up at the structure that the rocks he was chipping away at would contribute to. He could not even see the top. It disappeared into a swirl of clouds. On the sides of the tower, scaffolding was built so that creatures could move up and down it, either to apply the rock or to move down to get more. Ivan had grown to hate the tower. It was a sign of oppression.
Ivan’s thoughts were interrupted by the moaning of a young squirrel who had been chained behind him. Soon, Ivan found himself, as did the other mouse slave chained behind the squirrel, being pulled down by the collapsing squirrel. As if he had been magically transferred to there, Snater was standing over the fallen slaves, whip in paw.
“Lyin down for a snooze, eh?” Snater sinisterly smirked. “Not on my watch, buckos!”
With a few sharp snaps of his whip, Ivan and the other mouse scrambled to their footpaws, pulling the dazed squirrel up to his footpaws as well.
“We’ll get right back to work, sir,” the other mouse, named Drix, said.
“Wot’s wrong with him?” Snater asked, squinted suspiciously at the tired squirrel.
“Oh him!” Drix exclaimed, as if he just he realized the squirrel’s condition, “He’s um…er…he’s…”
Before Drix could think of an excuse to cover for the squirrel, Captain Olot arrived to the scene.
“Enough of this!” he snapped. He looked at all three slaves and then squinted his eyes curiously at the squirrel.
“You silly dolt,” Olot said as he shook his head. “Can’t you see this little squirrelly lad needs water?”
“Water, sir?” Snater replied as he scratched his head.
“Aye, water you twit!” Olot sneered as he gave Snater a thorough smack across the back of his head. “You know…water. You drink it….transparent. You find it in lakes and rivers…do you understand?”
“Right!” Snater exclaimed with realization. “Water!”
“Good,” Olot grinned. “You can be taught…go take this…poor soul…to get some water.”
Ivan did not like how Olot said ‘poor soul’.
“Right, sir,” Snater said with a quick salute. “Water…right away!”
With that, Snater reached into his jacket and produced a set of keys. He looked through the ring until he found the one he was after. He then proceeded to unlock the squirrel from his manacles. Drix did not like what seemed to be transpiring.
“What’s all this then?” the mouse asked. “What are you doing?”
“Shut-up you!” Snater snarled as he gave Drix a vicious back paw to the head. The blow was so hard, Drix lied flat on his back.
As Ivan assisted his fellow slave, Snater called another slaver over. Together they lifted the squirrel, one at his arms and one at his legs.
“You know what to do,” Olot smirked.
The two underlings grinned and nodded as they carried the worn out squirrel off.
Ivan watched as the slavers carried the squirrel away. Suddenly, realization struck him and a chill ran through his fur. They were taking the squirrel to Linqui Lake! The domain of some sort of terrible monster. Nobeast had seen it and lived to tell the tale. Anything that went under the water, never emerged…
“No!” Ivan shouted. “Don’t!”
Olot did not even turn his head to look at the mouse.
“Ah but my dear mouse,” Olot said impassively. “We can’t just have creatures lying around taking a nap when there’s work to be done.”
Ivan gnashed his teeth angrily and was about to lash out at the weasel when Drix held him back.
“Don’t do it, my friend,” Drix said in a near whisper. “Olot would have all his slavers piercing you with spears in a heartbeat!”
Ivan calmed down. Drix was right.
Olot had heard every word Drix had said and grinned wickedly at the two mice.
“I would heed your friend’s warning, mouse,” the captain said. “But he’s wrong about one thing. I wouldn’t call the guards to deal with you…”
Olot stopped talking as a dragonfly buzzed past his head. His eyes followed it as it began to zigzag around him. Then, as quick as a flash, Olot drew his sword and made a slice.
Drix gulped as the two small pieces of the insect dropped to the ground. Olot threw back his head and laughed.
“As you can see,” Olot said. “I would be perfectly capable of handling you myself…”