"'Tis all in good fun once Paraáfizi given us the run o' the land," Taff whispered sarcastically to his companion. A cruel grin that did not quite seem to fit him spread across his features. He nudged the larger meerkat in the ribs. "Eh, Drolet?"
"Right 'nuff, Taff," whickered the big guardkat with an equally impious grin, which almost immediately faded into an expression of heavy gloom. "Seein' the wrath of Paraáfizi on other creatures asides us. Wot're you gittin' at?"
Taff stared at him. He was silent for a long moment.
As further punishment for daring to question orders, Paraáfizi had placed Taff on perimeter guard duty for two full days' worth of shifts—without relief. Only Drolet had volunteered to stand guard with him. So here they were, nearly two leagues outside of the walled boundaries of the small Namib civilization, alone in the desert. Not that Taff minded.
On the contrary, this meant two days away from Paraáfizi and his tyranny. Besides, the sun gave him mostly a warm, welcoming feeling, not like the stifled cold inside of the Stone Chamber, to which he had been reporting to the ruler nearly every day while running messenger errands for him. No, Taff definitely did not mind extra time outside.
Coming back to himself beneath Drolet's quizzical stare, Taff shook his head with a poorly suppressed chortle.
"Nay, tha's definitely not wot I was agettin' at!" he snapped at his companion. "I'm done wid bein' th' blaggard's 'ound! Ha! Tha' snivelin' coward wot dares ter call 'imself Para. By the fur, Namib meerkats've been 'ere afore his 'alfbreed kind even knew 'ow ter burrow. We ain't amateurs! I'll make that scum wot calls hisself our leader pay through 'is snout 'n' whiskers! 'E won' 'ave none o' the invaders when I'm thru wid 'em."
Drolet looked on, amazed as his young friend bared his fangs with a venomous snarl. He had not realized his companion's ability to be cruel. Apparently, everykat had a dark side. Even the desert itself could be treacherous.
First it appeared to be smooth, beautiful velvet in the soft rays cast off by the sun through the haze present at dusk—right before a darkness settled over it that was sometimes so deep that all light and warmth seemed to have been vanquished completely.
Whatever Taff's motive, in any case, the big meerkat guard caught on to the scheme quickly. "Time fer us t' 'ave our fun," Drolet hissed in a low, dangerous voice as the two figures moved stealthily through the sand.
Whatever Taff's purpose, he could play along, for a while at least. The Namib oasis was at their backs. Drolet looked ahead as Taff pointed with one long claw to a tiny valley that lay between two large sand dunes. Taff's eyes gleamed cruelly in the bright noontide sun. Drolet looked and almost immediately sighted the small figure resting at the base of the first sand dune. A slow smile crossed his broad features.
"Aye," Taff continued maliciously. "Afizi's law will prevail all right. He jes' won't be the one doin' it."
"Aye," his companion replied, "we'll make sure 'e don' git 'is paws on that 'un." Both guardkats crept swiftly towards the little figure, both experts at desert camouflage. Even a particularly observant creature had little chance of spotting them.
They would get to their target unnoticed.
Kero and Ritters were in a hurry. "C'mon!" the taller rat urged. "We gotta keep goin'. We gotsta go real fast."
"Why?" Jesse queried, eyeing him belligerently. "Wher we be's goink?"
"Well, we're goin' on an adventure," Ritters hurriedly replied before Kero lost his temper.
YOU ARE READING
The Ten Clans Chronicles
FantasíaYoung Wyte is somewhat of a loner and all around troublemaker. He lives in a meerkat oasis with others of his kind, of the Surricatte Clan. The stories say that there were once ten clans that all lived in harmony, protecting the Desert Terrains from...
