Werehounds: Village of the Stars

       Darkness. Utter shadow filled the cold, dark, damp stone cell. The shadow lay in every corner, concealing two figures, barely discernible in the darkness of the cell. They were prisoners, chained by their necks, arms and legs to the cold stone wall. The night still lay around them like a blanket, concealing their forms. Slowly, the night outside began to lift and the cell was filled with a dim gray light, revealing the prisoner's forms. They were both human looking males in their later teens or early 20's. Both of them had dark hair , and both wore tunics and trousers that had been cut and slashed scores of times by whips. Both figures were filthy from head to toe, and under the dirt, one could see that they had been bruised and cut many times. Apparently, these two were dangerous criminals that needed tortured and half starved as punishment for some heinous crime. Dawn slowly advanced across the horizon and spread it's pink and gold fingers into the cell where the two prisoners slept. As the dawn spread it's fingers into the room, footsteps and the flickering shadow of torchlight announced the presence of someone. A figure half-revealed by torchlight stopped and threw back the door, causing it to bang. The two figures chained to the wall started awake. The figure entering was a tall, 30 something man with long Grey and black hair. He carried a tray with two cups of water,  two small, hard loaves of bread, and two strips of dried meat. The guard snarled as he kicked at the two prisoners, showing razor sharp feline fangs. “Wakey, Wakey you two worthless fleabags!” the two prisoners groaned and opened their eyes, one yellow and one green, both showing the slit pupils of cat's eyes. The guard dropped the tray to the ground in front of them, sloshing half the water out of the cups and onto the rest of the meager food. “enjoy your breakfast while you can...The General wants a...” the guard gave forth a cruel snicker here “word...with the two of you after you've had a chance to dine at your leasuire.” The guard laughed again. “You have one hour before your...interview” The guard chuckled cruelly as he strode away from the cell. The yellow eyed prisoner groaned. “Great. Another fun filled hour of interrogating, whips and rods ahead...and only...” He shoved at the tray with his toe. “slop for breakfast.” The green eyed prisoner grinned. “What did you expect, Slash? Pancakes with lots of syrup, or hot corn mush with lots of milk and honey? We're in jail. I thank the Creator I have food at all.” Slash growled. “Stop it, Patch. You're making me extremely hungry.” Patch reached out and took one of the now slightly soggy loaves off the tray. He bowed his head for a second and spoke quietly. “Dear Creator, thank you for this new day in which to live and for this food you have given to us. Give us the strength to live through this day and help me to stand firm amidst the pressures to fold. In your name, Amen.” he took a bite of his soggy loaf. “Sorry, Slash. Didn't mean to offend you, I was just kidding.” Slash tore a chunk out of his loaf. “You still believe that whole Creator nonesense?” Patch took a drink from his mug of water. “Yes, I do.” Slash  ripped a chunk out of his strip of meat with his teeth. “Why? That's what landed you in the dungeon to start with? When Sheba found you praying in the woods she was not happy.”
Patch tore and chewed another piece from his loaf before answering. “Because I believe he'll get me ot of here. What about you? You still beliveing that you can conquer all by yourself? Cause that attitude got you into that fight with The General and landed you in here.”
   Slash blinked. “Okay...no comparison there...I was simply making an innocent criticism, and he jumped on my back. You broke the law aganist religion.”
   Patch looked at him. “I am what I am. And no Werecat likes to be criticized because they are one hundred percent convinced that they are gods in control of their own destiny.”
   Slash took a swig of his water and swallowed. “You don't believe that?”
   Patch shook his head. “I prefer to leave my destiny in the hands of someone who actually knows what he's doing.”
    Slash downed the last of his loaf. “ Like you don't? And that sounded very....Werepup.”
   Patch drained the last drop from his cup. “And who's to say the Werehounds are all bad?”
   Slash blinked. “If The General or Sheba heard you say that...you'd lose your head! They're our mortal enemies! Have been for untold generations. Saying they're not half bad is...heresy.”
    “Heresy against what, Slash? The wrong idea that the Werecat is his own god?” Patch turned to Slash. “Our own people have beaten us, half starved us and thrown us in prison. That's a poor way to treat a god to me. And...what harm have the Werehounds done to us?”
    Slash blinked. “Uh...None that I can think of...” he shook his head causing his collar chain to rattle. “That's beside the point! They're still our mortal enemies!”
    They were interrupted by the sound of the cell door creaking open. “Yes they are...and we may end up throwing you to them!” Chuckled the guard as he removed the tray and cups.
    Slash snarled. “What are you talking about, you worthless flea bitten lout?” The guard slapped him across the face, leaving a red mark. “Behave or I will make your....fun session... today even more...enjoyable.”
   Patch spoke up. “Ignore him. He woke up on the wrong side of the chains this morning. What do you mean you'll end up throwing us to them?”
   The guard leered. “The higher ups are talking banishment for both of you bozos. And you know what happens to Werecats that are banished....”
   Slash rolled his eyes. “Spare me the gruesome details. I've heard enough of the fireside tales when I was a kid to last me a lifetime.  When a bad little Werecat is banished, they are never heard from again. And everyone is positive that the Werehounds catch em, kill em and eat them in a stew with biscuits.”
   The guard smashed Slash in the face again with his gloved fist. “No need to be impertinent.”  he turned to Patch. “What about you, Religious Freak? You scared of the big, bad woods?”
   Patch looked the guard in the eye with a calm, steady gaze. “Absolutely not. I'm the Creator's child no matter where I go. so...If I'm banished, he goes with me.”
   the guard gave Patch a viscious kick in his ribs. Patch winced as the pads on the bottom of the guard's bare foot hit an already bruised spot. “I don't want to hear any more of your Creator nonsense, understand religious freak boy!”
    Patch gasped with pain. “Will not. Can not. Betray who I am.”  He looked at the guard. “I frogive you for the pain you caused me.”
    the guard stepped back, slightly stunned. “Uh...well...uh” The guard shook his head to clear it. “You will be brought for questioning shortly. And I hear the torturer's whip is keen today.”
   Slash sneered. “When is is ever not keen?” The guard made like he was going to strike Slash again, but lowered his hand. “I'll just tell the whip man to add in a few extra strokes for me.” the guard laughed cruelly. “a half-hour till fun begins” he walked away, slamming and locking the door behind him.
   Slash slumped against his chains. “exiled. Forced to leave my family, friends, home...everything!”
   Patch shrugged. “What family and friends? I'm not worried.”
   Slash looked at him. “Why are you so calm. Banishment is huge! Our lives will never be the same! And you're...sitting there being a real cool cat! How can you do it!?”
   Patch shrugged. “The Creator is with me. I'm not alone. That's my secret.”
   Sash sneered. “You and that....Creator nonsense! How can you believe that pack of fairy tales is beyond me, but hey, whatever floats your boat.”
   Patch looked at Slash, not ruffled in the least. “He's the only thing that keeps my boat afloat.”
   Slash rolled his eyes. “Yeah. Whatever.”
   Their conversation was interrupted by the stomping and clanging as three big guards flung back the doors of the cell. Keys snapped in locks as their arm and leg chains were unfastened and dangled loose. The guards snapped leads to the iron collars around the prisoner's necks, and unhooked the chain. “Alright you two! Shape!” Ordered one of the guards.
   The two prisoners seemed to transform before the guard's eyes. Their bodies seemed to waver and quiver. Their entire bodies shrunk to about a qauter of it's usual size. As the body shrank, it became furrier. A tail sprouted from their backsides and their hands and feet transformed into paws. Their ears became trangular and pointed, while their noses streched and grew pinker and whiskers sprouted from their noses. In a matter of seconds, the two filthy tattered prisoners had been transformed into two filthy, tattered house cats. Slash was a mud  covered black cat with one ear ripped and tattered. Patch was a dirty white cat with black inky blotches covering his fur, an one particularly over his eye that earned him his name. The guards dragged the two cats down the hall, Slash spitting and yowling all the way. Patch trotted along obediently an silently.  They were taken to a room with binders on the wall and collar hooks. The two were made to shape back to human and bound to the wall.
Slash groaned. “I hate this next part. I am not the biggest pain fan in the world.” The guard sneered.  “Aww, shuddup. It aint that bad!” Slash looked at him.
 “If it ain't so bad, why don't you volunteer?” Another, colder voice broke in here. A Large, powerful tabby cat strode into the room and shaped into the form of a large, broad-chested man. “Because he wasn't the one that was bad. You were, I'm afraid my dear Slash. You were a very naughty kittycat. And for that you must be punished.”
“The General!” sneered Slash. “Done licking your wound and come out to rub it in that you're one of Sheba's favorites?” The General sneered. “You never touched me, boy and you are getting exactley what you deserve!” Patch snorted. “If he didn't touch you, then Where'd those scratches over your eye come from?” The General's hand flew up to trace the three scratch scars over his right eye. “And if it isn't little religious freak Patchy Boy! You're getting only what you deserve as well! And those scratches are...from love pats Sheba game me when she forgot to contract her claws!” Slash laughed. “Pah! If you wanna deceive yourself by telling yourself that, then be my guest...but both of us know what truly happened, Genny boy!” The General's face grew purple with rage. “My name is The General, not Genny Boy!” Slash sneered. “Whatever!” The General let a cruel smile spread across his face. “Guards, let the whipping commence...and double the strokes on the cheeky one.” The guard nodded and swung his whip down fiercely on Slashes torso. A fresh cut opened and began to drip blood on the dusty stone floor. Another guard picked up another whip and began to lay the lash on Patch's bound form. Patch's only words were a muffled “Creator forgive them!”  The General Sneered. “You think that your prescious Creator can get you out of this situation, well you're wrong!”
   Patch panted out his answered as the lash of the whip swung down across his body, inflicting new wounds and re-opening old ones. “No....but he'll give me the strength to endure whatever trial. And this whipping is only temporary.”
   The General laughed. “You have the gall to be there in binders with blood pouring down your body from scores of cuts and say this is only temporary. I was mistaken about you.”
   Patch panted out in pain. “How So?”
   The General laughed. “I thought you were just a religious nutcase. Now I know beyond the shadow of a doubt you're insane.”
   Slash sneered despite the incredible pain he felt. “Better insane than a cruel, heartless, power hungry pussycat!”
   The General looked at him. “Boy, you just don't learn, do you?”
   Slash grimaced because of the whip. “Nope. Mr. Hardhead, that's me.”
   The General rolled his eyes and turned to the guards. “when you're done here, bring them to my chambers. I have some questions for them.”
   One of the guards nodded and replied. “We will, but these two have iron wills. Neither three months in prison or daily beatings have broken them.”
    The General slapped the guard, raising a welt. “Who is the commander here, you or me?”
    The guard rubbed his face. “You are, SIR.”
    The General nodded. “That's right. And don't you forget it. Bring them when you're done with their daily dose of  fun.”
     The Guard nodded. “Yes, SIR. As soon as we're done you shall see them.”
     The General turned with a swish of his long cape and strode out of the room. The guard turned to his companion. “He is such a major jerk. I don't see why Sheba even made him commander of the army. I simply hate his guts and so does everybody else.”
    his friend laughed. “He may be a pain in the neck, but he wins battles for Her Majesty. If you could win as many battles against the Werehounds as he has you'd be commander too.” the guard's whip came down on Slash, causing him to wince, but not cry out.
    The other guard looked at him. “I hear he's not been doing so well against the Werepups lately...ever since they got that new army commander.”
    his friend looked at him. “Where in the woods did you hear that?”
    The other guard shrugged. “Just idle barracks talk. May or may not be true.”
    The guard paused a moment. “Have you ever seen a Werehound? I mean in battle.”
    “Once or twice.”
   “What'd they look like?”
  The guard shrugged. “A lot like us, but....with a...weaker expression in their eyes.”
  the other guard twirled his whip and lashed it across Patch's shoulder. “Well, discussing what we common soldiers discuss during our idle time won't speed up the beating of these two. Remember,  General Jerkball wants to see them after we're finished.”
    Slash gritted his teeth, “I'd rather you didn't finish if it's all the same to you.”
    The guard laughed. “It is all the same. If we don't beat you we get beat ourselves. And I like to have my hide fully intact.”
    Slash groaned. “Oh, great. We just happened to get two fraidy-cat coward torturers who are vain enough to be worried about their own hides. Just perfect.”
   The guard flicked his whip, opening an old cut on Slash's chest. “And you're a sassy cat who needs taught a little lesson,”
   Slash  groaned. “I've been learning this lesson every day for three months now.”
   the guard chuckled. “ yeah...you think you woulda learned better by now.. but you have a really thick skull.”
   “and how is beating me to a bloody pulp going to drive this lesson through my head?”
   the guard shrugged. “I don't know, but it sure is fun!”
   Lash after lash, stroke after stroke fell upon the two chained forms, until they were limp and covered with blood from head to toe. The guards unfastened the chain and let the two drop to the ground utterly exhausted. The two prisoners were made to shape and the guards carried them back to their cells and  tossed them to the floor. The guard leered. “have a nice rest. In 15 minutes, it will be time for your daily question and answer session.”
   Slash spat his words through swollen lips. “Oh, goody. My favorite part of the day. I just love answering questions for General Mean Streak. His office is so nice, and warm and inviting and he has the most comfortable chairs.”
   The guard smirked. “Well, then Sassycat....you'll have a blast. You two go on trial at dawn tommorow, so today is your last session with him. I'm sure you'll miss your heart to heart talks in the wild lands out there all alone.”
   Slash sneered. “Banishment sounds a whole lot better than seeing your ugly face day after day like I have been!”
   The guard shook his head. “Boy, you'll just never learn, will you?”
   Slash grinned despite his pain. “Nope. Never. Persistance is one of my best traits.”
   The guard twirled the keys in his hand. “It and your temper along with your rebellious streak are what landied you in here in the first place....I would recommend getting a new set of traits. This one is getting you banished tommorrow.” with that the guard turned and strolled off into the hall. Slash groaned. “Ow. I'm either becoming an opponent of whipping or a proponet of whipping those guys.”
    Patch looked at him. “I'm a proponent of forgiveness”
    Slash snorted. “Save it for the church hall, preacher cat.”
    Patch shrugged. “I wasn't preaching. Maybe you're feeling guilty about your bitter spirit.”
    Slash growled with a rather feline snarl coming out of his twin voiceboxes. “I said shut it!”
    Patch sighed as he heard the guard returning. “I wasn't trying to be offensive.” the guard strode in. “Slash, come with me. The General wants to talk to you. Now.”
Slash climbed very slowly and painfully to his feet. The guard tapped his right foot in a guesture of impatience. “Hurry it up, will ya!” Slash growled as he painfully straightened up. “Look, you get whipped for an hour and you see how fast you can get up. I'm in pain here.” The guard leered. “Oh, I'm so sorry. Would you want me to get you a pillow and four soldier bearing a litter so you can ride in comfort?” The guard laughed. “I'm sorry. You're in prison. Punishing you for your crimes is our priority, not making you comfortable.”
 Slash groaned. “Maybe it should be. You'll never get repeat customers if you trat tehm all like me.” The guard chuckled cruelly. “Most of them don't repeat.”
Slash sneered. “I can see why. The food is bad, and the bed is hard!” the guard struck him across the mouth. “Shut up and come with me.” Slash limped rather reluctantly down the hall behind the guard. The guard led him down a long hallway and into a very sparsley furnished room with a desk and two chairs. A single lamp burned from over his head, casting its flicering light on the general sitting at the table. “Ah, Slash M'Boy, come in!” The General waved him to a chair. “take a seat, please. This won't take very long at all.” Slash sneered. “Any time spent with the likes of you is utterly too long.” The General smote Slash across the face. “do NOT talk to me like that!” the Genral screamed. “ I am your superior and you wil trat me with the utmost respect!” Slash rubbed his aching face. He was getting a little tired of all the slapping. “Why did you call me here?” The General sneered. “It's been 3 months. Surely a bright boy like you would know by now what he did wrong!” Slash played  ignorant. “I'm not a bright boy. Tell me. What did I do that was so wrong, evil, Vile and despicable?”
The General sneered, his cat-fangs quite visible. “You refused orders, talked back to a commander, struck an officer, spread dissenion and unrest and generally made an enormous nuisance out of yourself.”
Slash yawned as he moved to sit in the rough wooden chair. “You know, you might get better responses outta people if you didn't run them into the dirt all the time. “ Slash paused for a brief moment. “That and get some better chairs in here. This one is way too uncomfortable.”
   The General snarled. “My goal is to get answers out of you, not make you comfortable.”
   Slash rolled his eyes. “I was just through this with that big ox of a guard. What is it, the jerk motto of the week?”
   The General's face turned purple with anger. “shut up! You are here to answer questions, not mock me and get yourself in even deeper water. I could send you back to the torturers for another session with with the whips and rods.”
   Slash's yellow eyes met The General's ones. “Look. I think after three months of this day after day, you would have learned. I can not be broken by torture. It only makes me the more determined to one day pound you into a pulp.”
   The General let loose with a cat yowl of fury, his face becoming absolutely scarlet. “Just shut up and answer the questions I ask of you, would ya! I am the one supposed to be talking here, not you! So just shut your furry face and  only speak when I call on you to answer the questions!”
   Slash sneered. “No use getting all upset over it, Genny Boy. Now why don't we have a nice up of peppermint tea and talk things over like reasonable Werecats.”
   The General's look changed from one of pure anger to mixed anger and disbelief. “You're simply impossible, you know that.”
   Slash sneered. “That's what my mom always told me. 'slashy' she said, 'your an impossible little boy cat'.”
   The General yowled with anger again, then forced a phoney smile on his face. “Look. The faster you answer the questions, the faster both of us can get out of here, okay?”
   Slash nodded. “I don't wanna have to look on your ugly face any more than I have to.”
   The General sneered. “good. Let's get started, then”
   Slash squirmed a little in the stiff wooden chair. “ Okay. I'm ready whenever you are, Genny Boy.”
   “ Do NOT call Me Gen...never mind” Said the General as he pulled out a list of questions. “Okay...how long has you been incarcereated here?”
   Slash's reply was quick and ready. “93 days”
    The General nodded. “For what crime were you orignially imprisoned?”
    Slash grinned. “For knocking that stupid General for a furry loop.”
    The General sneered. “You did not 'knock me for a loop' I was merely off balance when you attacked me.”
    Slash grinned evilly. “Call it what you want, but you had to have your guard goons drag me off you. I say I was pounding the stuffing out of you.”
    The General subconsciously traced the fine claw scars over his eye, and tried his best to ignore Slash's taunts. “SO...you were charged with assualt, insubordination, and improper conduct for that incident. And for treasonous remarks against her High Majesty Sheba, Queen of all Werecats. How do you at the present moment answer to those charges?”
    Slash put on a mock solemn face. “Guilty as charged.”
    The General glared at him. “You're just not taking this seriously, are you?”
    Slash looked at him. “Why should I? We both know you're not gonna make me repent a single action I did if I don't want to. I'm too stubborn to bend or break. You might as well just give up and sling me back in my cell like you always do.”
   The General put on a face of pretended civility. “Because her benevolent Majesty Sheba, queen of all Werecats always like to extend a chance to those go against her out of the pure love and gentleness of her heart.”
   Slash let loose a burst of laughter. “ Sheba! Kind, gentle! That's a riot. She's the cruelest and harshest Werecat of them all. She's worse than you. But because she's also attractive and a little loose in the morals department, you think you can worm your way into her good graces and her heart.”
   The General grew absolutely livid. “Shut up! You know nothing! How can you know anything you are are nothing but a common former Werecat soldier! Just mere scum!”
   Slash snarled. “And you think your something special just because you're the commander now? PAH.” Slash spat out the last syllable of his tirade with the utmost disgust he could must past his bloody lips. “I may be a younger werecat, but I've talked to those wiser than me. Those who knew. Those who remembered the way you were as a young werecat. You were once, just like me. A common soldier. The veterans remember. They may not always speak but they always remember. They told me how you lied, stole, cheated and even killed to be at Sheba's side as her number one warrior. Amazign what a Werecat will do for power and...” Slashe never finished his sentence. The General could no longer contain his anger and leaped across the desk, shaping quickly to his cat form as he did, yowling, biting, hissing and clawing feircely. Slash got several nasty wounds, especially on his already badly lacerated chest, neck and face, before he was able to  shift cat himself and fight back. Although Slash ordinarily was the better of the two combatants, he had several things to his disadvantage in this particular scrap. The General had been eating well, as well as most other Werecats, if not better, while Slash had been on near-starvation rations for the past 3 months. The General also was in top physical condition, while Slash's daily beatings had left in far from peak condition. The General also had the element of surprise on his side. All the factor weighed heavily against Slash, and although he battled bravely and fiercely, within 20 minutes, Slash, still in feline form was battered, bloody and almost unconscious and lying on The General's office floor. The General shaped back to human. He hadn't entirely escaped the battle unscathed. Slash's claws had found their marks more than once. The General wiped the blood from his face and hollered. “Guards! Take this worthless scumbag furball back to his cell!and bring me the other one!” The guards outside leaped to obey his orders. They picked up the semi- conscious Slash and slung him in his feline form across the cell. Patch winced as he heard the sound of bones cracking as Slash hit the wall. “That's gonna hurt tommorrow.” The guard rolled his eyes
“Enough with the snide comments, Religious freak cat!” The guard roughly hauled Patch to his feet. “The General wants to see you. Now.” Patch staggered a little. “I'm coming.” The guard looked surprised. “You're not fighting like your friend,  why is that? Resigned to your fate and ready to repent of your wicked ways?”
   Patch looked at him. “Already have. I'm a child of the Creator. And If life in prison and daily torture is my fate, then, yes I am resigned to it.”
   The guard struck Patch across his face. “Shut up, Preacher cat! I don't wanna hear one of your sermons. I never wanna hear one of your sermons ever again!”
   Patch winced and rubbed his smarting cheek. “Then you'll have to kill me, because nothing on this planet will ever stop me from proclaiming what the Creator has done in my heart and life.”
   The guard let loose with a very feline snarl. “Believe me, I'd like nothing better. But The General wants you alive for your questioning. Whether he leaves you alive at the end of it is his business, not mine.”
   Patch looked at the guard fearlessly. “ If it is the Creator's will I live, then I accept that. If it is his will that I perish today, I also accept that. The General can do nothing to me that the Creator does not allow.”
   The guard stared at Patch open jawed. “You are simply impossible. Just simply impossible.”
   Patch smiled. “I'll take that as a compliment.” The guard lead Patch down the hall and tossed him into the same room Slash had just been carried out of. “Here he is.”
   The General finished trying to clean the blood from his fight with Slash off his face. “Good. Leave until I call for you to remove him from this chamber.” The guard bowed, then left The General and Patch alone in the room. “Tell me, Patch” The General purred. “how long have you been a resident of our dungeons.”
    Patch's reply was quick. “91 days, sir”
   The General continued to purr, trying to weasel a confession out of Patch. “And for what crime were you placed in the dungeons?”
    Patch answered steadily and calmly. “For violating Sheba's ordinace angainst organized religion and for breaking the Werecat code of conduct” Patch muttered under his breath. “Such as it is.”
    The General thought to himself, 'the religious freak is weakening' Out loud, he purred out, “and how do you answer to these charges?”
    Patch was a solid as a rock as he answered. “Guilty as charged.”
   The General smiled as best he could with a cut and bloodied face. “Good. Now, her majesty Queen Sheba is gracious, kind and gentle, and would like to extend an opportunity to you at this time.”
   Patch muttered under his breath. “Sheba's as grascious, kind and gentle as Jezebel in the Creator's Book.” Out loud he said. “What opportunity would that be?”
   The General smiled grasciously. “The opportunity to repent of your wrongdoings and once again be a useful member of society. All you have to do is renounce all that foolish Creator nonsense and you will be fully pardoned and fully restored.”
    Patch's reply was instant. “No. I can not and I will not recant my Faith.” *
The General quickly lost his sweet and smooth tone of voice. “You, foolish, foolish cat! Don't you realize that this so-called faith is what landed you in this whole mess to begin with! Yeah, you've found some nice warm fuzzies inside, but at what cost! You've been beaten, imprisoned and mostly starved. That's what your faith has bought you, nothing but suffering!”
    Patch smiled. “His son found death to start this faith. I can surely endure the beatings and imprisonment for His sake.”
    The General came around  his large and slapped Patch in the face. “You are impossible! You can see it's caused you nothing but trouble! Why don't you just give up and fold in! IT would make your life a whole lot easier. No more beatings, no more jail, nothing. Just peace and quiet and freedom.”
    Patch took a deep breath before answering. “ No. I would rather live the life I'm living now in the favor of the Creator rather than betray who I am and live a life of  luxury and ease without Him.”
    The General looked exapsterated. “What's it gonna take to get you to just shut up and bend?”
    Patch looked at The General. “no force on this earth can shut me up. No force on earth can make me bend, because he's there helping me to stand.”
 The General looked at him. “How about a compromise, Sheba is feeling very generous. You can continue to practice your faith, but you must do it silently. You must not share your belief with anyone at all. You must remain completely silent.”
    Patch looked the General squared in the eyes. “You would do better trying to keep the sun from shining than to keep me silent about my realtionship with the Creator. He offers a way of peace, freedom and salvation from our sines for everyone. Even one like you, General.”
   The General snarled and slapped Patch again. “Silence, you pathetic impudent kitten! I Don't belive ion sins! I believe every individual is their own god. The captain of their own destiny. Whatever. I do not need some made up Creator telling me what to do! I know perfectly well how to run my life. I'm the one in complete charge! ME!” the general screeched these last words from the top of his lung, the words ricocheting off the walls of the tiny room and into the ears of any poor passer-by.
   Patch looked impassively. “oh, really? And how's that working out for you?”
   The General was taken aback at Patch's bold statement. “ You heard me. How is it working for you being the captian of your own destiny? I bet you stay awake at night wonder wherther your destinry is going to crash into the rocks. Whetehre or not Sheba will fall for another, younger Werecat and toss you aside. Whether you'll be able to keep you post as General forever.” The General's hand flew intao a sharp slap, drawing blood from Patch's already damaged face. “I'll bet you never have sleepless nights rotting in your miserable little cell. I bet you've never wondered wheteher the glue holding your entire world together is going to shatter and crumble.”
    Patch shrugged. “I used to, but ever since I gave my life to the Creator's control. I haven't had those kind of problems. If you give yourself over to the Creator, he can give you victory over those fears in the night, too.”
   The General screamed at the top of his lungs. “Just shut it, religious freakball! I don't want to hear it! I don't need a little pipsqueak kittycat like you telling me how to run my life. Your just a scumbag, common, fle ridden prisioner, ehile I'm one of the most powerful Werecats on earth, I'm at the top and I got to the top without your pathetic excuse for a god's  help, so just shut up!”
    Patch smiled. “No you didn't. You only gained power and authority because the Creator saw fit for you to have it. If he had not wanted you to get it, you would still be a common little soldier like me.” The General could stand no more and flew at Patch in cat form yowling, “ Just shut up, already!.”  Patch did little to resist The General's onslught, and in a matter of a few minutes, he too like Slash was lying in a bloodied heap of fur on the floor. The General stood up, returning to his human shape. “Guard! Throw this religious loudmouthed nutcase back in his cell where he belongs!” The guards scooped up Patch's limp form, and carried him to the cell, and slung him into a pile of straw lying there. The door clanged and clicked and theguard slammed them in once again and locked it tight. Through the bars, the guard told the two injured Werecats, “ Your trial will be at dawn tommorow. Rest easy” with that, he chuckled and walked away. Slash groaned. “The General claw you up, too?”
Patch nodded. “When I wouldn't be quiet about what I believe he leaped at my face claws- extended.”
Slashe chuckled. “ I got the claws, too, for shooting off at the mouth what I heard some of the older Werecats say.”
   Patch looked at him. “And what exactly did they say?”
   Slash shrugged. “Essentially that he was a cheater, theif and liar that didn't deserve the promotions he had got.”
   Patch blinked. “You told him that to his face?”
   Slash nodded. “I did indeed. And he didn't like it.”
   Patch nodded. “and let me guess. That was just the straw that broke the camel's back. You had been goading him all along today up until he jumped you.”
  Slash grinned wide. “ Yeah, that just about sums it up!”
   Patch looked at him. “When are you ever gonna learn?” Patch eyed Slash from head to toe. “ I don't like the looks of some of those cuts. It looks like they might be getting infected.”
   Slash groaned. “ I know. We both are walking infected furballs. But you think the Werecats would send one of their elite healers down and bandage our wounds and clean them out every once in a while.”
   Patch shrugged. “They send Ginger in about once a week to take care of the really nasty ones. That helps a little bit.”
   Slash nodded. “ It keeps us from getting gangrene but that's it.” Slash looked wistful. “I heard a rumor that the Werehounds get top-notch care. The best of everything.”
  Patch looked at him. “Slash, what are you thinking?”
  Slash looked at Patch. “I'm just beginning to wonder if the Werehounds are as bad as we say they are. Ive been doing a lotta hard thinking one what you told me earlier. Like you pointed out, we've had nothing but abuse from our own people. Imprisoned, turtured, assualted. All for speaking our minds. You for that faith that you so firmly cling to, and me just for saying things like I see them.”
  Patch stretched on the starw as best as he could. “ Well, if the romur the guard said is true...we won't be werecats after tommorrow morning after all. Gavel's pretty tough on those who break Werecat law, which we both have. But we haven;t comitted capital offenses. Which means we'll only be banished, not put to death.” their talk was interrupted by the same surly guard with a try of food identical to what they'd got that morning. “ Here. Enjoy your food!”  the guard sneered, flung down the tray and stomped out of the room. Patch chewed thoughtfully on his hard loaf of bread. Slash looked at him. “ You're not phased. You're completely unphased by all this. Why?.” Patch opened his mouth. “Because the Cre...” Slash cut him odd with a wave of his hand. “I know. You've said it a hundred or a thousand times in the three months we've been together in the clink here. The Creator gives you the  strength to carry on despite all you've been through.- Patch looked at him. “Well, It's true. He will.” Slash cut him off with a wave of the rock hard loaf of bread in his hand. “ Stow it Patchy. I really don't wanna hear your religious mumbo jumbo again.”
    Patch srugged. “Okay. Your loss. If you don't want to find out how to escape perpetual loneliness, pain and kight fore that's your problem.”
   Slash blinked. “Perpetual loneleness?” He shuddered. “all alone forever...what a terrifying thought.” He turned to Patch. “ You mean, I'd be alone forever? With...just me?”
    Patch nodded. “ Truly and utterly alone. With no hand to hold.” he looked at Slash. “Is that why?”
    Slash snapped out of his spaced out mood. “Huh? Is that why wait?”
    Patch took a deep breath before taking the plunge into deep waters that were possibly infested by the sharks and pirahna's of Slash's attitude and claws. “Is that why you're always so angry and bitter? Because you're lonely?”
    Slash blinke rapidly. “Wha...what makes you say that?”
    Patch shrugged. “ Just a thought. And don't feel afraid to tell me. We're both trapped here in this cell with only each other for company. You can be open with me.”
    Slash sighed. “Yeah. I guess I am lonely. I have been for a long time” For this first tiem since Patch had known Slash, he looked like a scared lonely kitten who'd lost his way in life .Slash  spoke quietly ad softly, his normally hard yellow eyes much softer.” Ever since my family died.”
   Patch blinked. “You lost family?”
   Slash nodded, drawing up his knees and resting his chin on them. “Mother, father, 2 sisters, not sure if my brother survived or not. He was pretty badly hurt.” all the hurt and anguish Slash kept bottled up inside for so many years began spilling out through his tear ducts.
   Tears began forming in Patch's eyes as he took a deep breath and asked a question. “If you don't mind me asking, how did they die? Was it in a battle against the Werehounds?”
   Slash shook his head. “I wish it were. Then I could look at at them as some heros. Besides, Werehounds don't take civilian lives. They're too....kind. Unless they're one of the Ferals.”
    Patch asked quietly. “Then how did they die?”
    Slash took a deep breath. “They were civilians. Just poor farmers who never harmed anyone and who got in the way of Sheba's bloody rise to power. Slaghtered in one night because My family dared to tell Sheba's men no, she couldn't take more food in tax from us. And when I cam home from playing on the forest's edge with my friends, they were dead.”
    Patch said softly. “I understand.”
    Slash whirled on him, the hurt inside coming out as anger. “How could you! You've never had to come home and see your whole family lying dead on the floor! You didn't have to  bury them, feeling as if your 11 year old heart would break, you didn't have to lie lonely nights in an empty loft where you and your sisters used to have pillow fights and where you read them bedtime stories! You can never understand, so just shut your big fat trap!”
    Softly Patch whispered . “At least you know who your family was. I've never had anyone.”
    Slash's anger quickly faded. “Really?”
    Patch nodded. “I was found abandoned on a dust heap by one of The Underground. He took me into his house and raised me, so I have no idea who my birth parents are.”
    Slash blinked. “I had no idea.” he looked rather puzzled . “Who exactly are The Underground? A secret rebel groud like The Shadow Cats?”
    Patch shook his head. “Not exactly.”
    “Then what are they?'
    “The Underground is a code name for Werecat Believers. They follow the Creator, but have to hide their true beliefs or suffer for it. Remember why I'm in here?”
   Slash rolled his eyes. “Yeah. I remember. Breaklign the rule against religious observeance because it goes against Werecat nature and all that, blah, blah, blah. I've heard that a thousand times both from you lips and from those goons.”
  Patch shrugged.”Okay. If you're going to be that stubborn, then be that stubborn. I can't force you to believe.”
    Slash looked at Patch. “Maybe one day, but for right now, let's focus on surviving this nightmare of a life.” He gnawed on  his loaf with a pair of sharp feline fangs tearing and ripping in into smaller, bust equally as tough chunks.
    Patch grinned. “I could say something here, but you'd only throw that loaf at me. And I don't need to add a concussion to my extensive list of injuries.”
    Slash almost cracked a grin. “Yeah. This loaf could be classified as a lethal weapon in some parts of the world, but it's what we're given to eat on a daily basis, so we better choke it down.” Slash attempted to chew the bread as best he could. “Because tommorrow our fate hits us like a might rushing river sweeping who knows where, away from every last tendril of the life we'd known into the cold dark night of the forest beyond”
   Patch shrugged. “I'm not particularly worried. I know my fate's in the hands of one greater than I am, So I'm just gonna kick back and live the adventure as it comes.” *
   Slash blinked at Patch. “You are unbelievable. Simply unbelievable. You're not ruffled one iota are you?”
   Patch grinned. “Nope. Not a single piece of fur ruffled. If we get banished, we get banished. I think I'd almost prefer the cold open ground to sleeping in this cell one more night. At least if we're out in the woods, we'll have a chance to hunt and pick fruit and stuff.”
   Slash blinked. “you do realize that it's early summer. Not that many berries out there. And they're not likely to banish us with a spear or bow or any kind of weapon to hunt game with.”
    Patch grinned. “Didn't you pay attention in school when they taught as all that stuff. You know how to make a bow out of a branch and vine, how to tell which mushrooms are posionous and which are edible and all that stuff.”
    Slash shrugged. “I was too busy plotting my revenge against Sheba and her minions to pay much attention with school. So, where do we go once we're banished?”
    Patch chewed on his strip of meat thoughtfully. “I think we need to head for the Village of the Stars. The werehounds would probably take us in and be more kind to us than our own people. Unless we meet up with the Ferals. In which case...we'd be better off dead.”
   Slash blinked. “What exactly are the Ferals?”
   “Werehounds that don't follow the Creator. They live a life as roving bandits and maruaders.  They're as cruel as we are and they have a hatred of Werecats. In which case...they might kill us or torture us.” Patch explained.
   Slash thought for a moment. “They kill us, no more pain. They torture us...our own people already do that. They treat us well...our situation drastically improves. I say we go for it.”
   Patch grinned. “That's the spirit!”
   Their dinner conversation was interrupted by the same big burly guards. The guards took their barely finished food away and chained them to wall once again. Both Patch and Slash were too weak from the day's beating to struggle any, and Slash forsook any caustic remarks for simply glaring. The guards sneered. “Well, good night you two. Enjoy your last night as a Werecat. For tommorrow, you become exiles.” The guard took the torch, once again plunging the cell into darkness.

Chapter 2

     The soft, cheery whistling of a chickadee outside the cell signaled the two prisoners that dawn, and their trial were coming. Slash grumped. “How can that bird be so cheerful so early in the morning?”
   Patch grinned. “It's just doing what it was made to do, praise the Creator!”
   Slash groaned. “If they would be kind enough to let us have pillows...I would wing one at you!”
   Patch shrugged. “Who knows. Maybe one day we'll have a real bed and pillows again?”
   Slash rolled his eyes. “Maybe. Don't get your hopes too high, though. We're more likely to die out in the forest than anything else. But dying in the forest would be better than seeing The General's ugly face day after day.”
   Patch grinned. “That it would. Were you the one who gave him those scars over his right eye?”
   Slash nodded. “That I was. And I really enjoyed giving them to him. He just likes pushing people around.”
   Patch looked thoughtful. “I wonder why he does it. Antagonize those who could help him. I mean, you're one of the best Werecat fighters in a long time. You could be a  great captain leading his troops to battle, and instead he abuses you and tosses you in jail.”
   Slash shrugged. “I got in his way. He doesn't like it when people get in his way, so bam! Here I am.” Slash looked at Patch. “Weren't you studying to be a sniper?”
   Patch nodded. “yeah. I've got a pretty good eye and all. I was doing all right in basic training until I was caught praying in the woods.”
   Slash shook his head. “And wasn't it Sheba herself who caught you?”
   Patch Nodded. “Aye. That it was. She was not happy. And her....” Patch was iterrupted by the guard with their tray of food. The guard slung it down, as usually splashing half the water out of the mugs in the process. “Enjoy your last meal before your trial, you two.”
   Slash poked at the tray with his foot. “Enjoy? THIS? You gotta be kidding me!”
   The Guard slapped Slash across the face. “You will eat it and be grateful for what you have. If it were up to me, you wouldn't have any food at all and would probably be dead by now, but her majesty is more gentle and caring then I am.” Slash sneered. “I've experienced some of your gentleness. It's not very gentle at all.” The guard slapped Slash again. “Just shut up and eat. Your trial is in only about one half hour. So eat up.” The guard turned, clicking the lock  behind him and taking the torch with him. Slash chewed on his loaf. “Well, in only a half hour, We meet our fate. And from rumors, we'll be outcast from our people and village. And no other Werecat settlement would be allowed to take us back in under penealty of tripled taxes and public flogging of the village leaders.”
    Patch nodded.. “Werecat law is neither fair nor gentle. When you have a judicial sysatem based on greed, anger and pride, it can hardly help being unfair.”
   Slash sneered. “And what are you? And expert on law and justice. There is no justice, otherwise we wouldn't be in here this long and treated like this. I've probably lost about 40 punds during my imprisonment here.”
  Patch nodded. “Probably. Both of us are little more than skin and bones right now. And were covered with whip scars from head to toe.” Patch paused before continuing. “but there is such a thing as justice. Maybe not here among the Werecats, but justice exists. And justice will always win out in the end.”
  Slashe sneered. “Save your idealistic Creator talk for someone who cares, boy” Patch grinned. “Who are you calling boy? Seems to me I'm a few months older than you.”
Slash waved his hand with the hard loaf dismissingly. “Minor detail!”  They ate the rest of their meager meal in silence. When they finished, Slashe turned to Patch. “How much longer till the trial?” Patch shrugged. “ I really don't know. Another ten minutes at the most.”
“So are you ready to meet your fate whatever it may be?” Patch nodded. “I am. I know I've said it before, but I'll say it again now, the Cre...” Slash interrupted. 'I know. The Creator will be with you no matter what the future holds. I've heard it probably a billon times tight now. And I really don't care. Look. If believing in a Creator makes you happy and helps you survive this nightmare of a life, that's great. I prefer to suffer through my nightmare alone.” Slash grew quiet. He could be heard to softly whisper “Daisy.....Rose....why?”
    “Were those your sister's names?” asked Patch quietly.
    Slash startled in surprise. “Oh...you hear that. Yeah. Daisy and Rose were my sisters. Daisy was 8 and Rose was 6 when they died. They were....” Slash let a tear run down his scarred face. “my best friends. I really miss them still. Such innocent little girls, so sweet. Why did they have to die! Why?” the sadness on Slash's face turned to fury. “If there's really and truly a Creator in heaven, then why did he let them die. Criminals like the General live, and two innocent little girls are slaughtered in cold blood! If he exits, he's heartless, cruel and bloodthirsty and I want nothing to do with him. Ever!” Patch looked taken aback. “I don't know why he allowed your sisters to die, but there was a reason. There is always a reason. And one day, your sisters will be restored to you, whether it be in some form in this life or  if you believe, in the life to come.”
    Slash snarled. “Shut up! I don't wanna hear any of your pie in the sky, happy go lucky carefree religious mumbo jumbo! My sisters are gone forever and I'll never get them back!  Never! Not in this life! Not in the next!”
   At that moment the guard came in with the leashes to attach to their iron collars. “So you're angry. That's good. The judge might throw the book at you for that attitude.” Slash snarled at the guard, but held still as the leash was clipped to the hook in the back of his iron collar and the hook chaining him to the wall was undone. The guard grinned. “good. You're behaving today. Maybe you won't be beat.”
The guard repeated the process with Patch's collar and chain. He then unlocked their leg and ankle chains and tugged them sharply to their feet. “Okay, you two. Move it” Patch and Slash stumbled to their feet as the guard led them out of the cell. The hallway leading out of the cell block was made of cold forbidding stone, splashed here and there with the darkened and dried spilled blood of tortured prisoners that had trod in these very stones . The olnly light in the narrow hallway came from small window in the mostly empty cells and torches flickering in metal brackets along the two walls.
    Every little bit rough wooden doors were spaced, leading to offices and torture chambers. The two prisoners were all too familiar with those chambers, having visited them many times during their three month imprisonment in the cell block. After about ten minutes of this gloomy hallway they reached a winding narrow set of stairs. Up this set of stairs they were made to climb, stumbling and tripping on the rough stones. The guard yanked on their leads. “Have a care! And hurry! We don't want you to go into ” Slash grumbled. “You try being half starved for three months and you see how fast you can trot up steps!” The guard slapped at Slash again. “Be quiet!” They continued to stumble up the steps until they reached a rough wooden door with a brass knob. The guard unlocked the door and swung it open revealing a lovely summer morning outside. Patch breathed a deep breath of the fresh air mildly scented with pine and strawberries. “Oh. Thank you Creator! It's a magificent day!” It was indeed.  The sun was shining through the think forest, the leaves of the forest giants casting dappled shows on the ground. In the outside sun, the Werecat village looked more like a giant fort than a normal village. Guard towers with archers were scattered around. A large palisade wall with a gate set in it stood at one end of the village protecting either the residents from the forest, or the forest from the residents. The guard made them turn from the bustling settlement and towards a large stone building that they came out of the basement of. The imposing structure was the Regal Werecat Palace and Hall of Justice, or as the commoner's term for it The Lawhouse. Patch and Slash were now made to climb all 30 steps to the entrance of the Lawhouse. By the time the two reached the top, they were both panting and gasping for breath. The guard snarled. “Move it you two! Time's a-wasting!” Slash looked at him. “You try climbing 30 stai...” Slash paused. “You know. Just forget it! You're too dense to understand the plight of walking skeletons.” Walking Skeletons was an apt description of the two prisoners. They were little more than skin and bones after their poor diet and long imprisonment. The guard sneered. “After today, I will no longer have to be worried with your welfare.” The guard slung the massive doors open. Their  naturally padded feet made very little sound as the three figures walked down the cool, tiled hallway lined with myriads of priceless tapestries and paintings. Slash muttered under his breath. “People starve because they cannot afford food to eat, and the queen and her minions live in absolute splendor like this. I outta rip every single pretty thing off the walls and claw it to shreds just to teach them a lesson!” Patch whispered. “and what would that accomplsh? Get you bashed and tossed back in prison, that's all.”
    The guard swung at them with the butt end of his spear. “No talking, you two! You'll have plenty of opportunity to run your yaps soon enough. The guard swung open pair of massive oak doors. A long room filled with benches-most occupied by a werecats, was revealed. At the far end of the spectator benches were several more seats. Several were high backed and had a hook for the lead to be tied to. Those were obviously for the prisoners. In the very front of the room was a high stand  with a large mallet. That was where the judge sat to make descions. On eithet side of the stand steps rose in a high daise to a platform with two ornate and cushioned chairs. One oviously was for the reigning Werecat monarch and the other was for her consort. The guard led Patch and Slash to two of the prisoners chairs and tied the ends of their leads to the hooks in the chair.  The guard then stood off to the side, spear at attention. Neither the judge, queen nor consort were anywhere to be seen. Patch whispered to Slash. “Where do you suppose they are?” Slash shrugged and whispered back before the guard glared at them. “Sheba loves a grand entrance. You know that.” After about ten minutes of waiting, They heard a stir behind them, and a large, grizzled black tomcat with a white, hammer shaped mark on its back came strolling casually down the aisle. This was Gavel, Magistrate over all Werecats. Gavel climbed into the  magistrate's stand where he had sat as a judge for many many years. He look his human form, that of a man on the high end of middle age with silvery hair. He gripped the gavel, swung it down and barked in a voice deepened and weathered by age. “All rise for the entrance of her High Majesty, Sheba, queen of all Werecats!”
    With those words, Sheba entered, purring as she ascended. There was no doubt about it, the queen of the Werecats was a beautiful woman, and she knew it. Sheba carried about her body the dusky look and swirling dark hair of a Middle Eastern woman. She looked like a figure of legend carried from the pages of Arabian Nights, wrapped in the mists of time. Unfortunatly, that was about all she WAS wearing. Her garment clung to her form and revealed more than it concealed. Patch immediately turned his blushing face away from her scantily clad form. Slash leered at her. “There she is. The Whore Queen herself.”
     Patch muttered. “Please. I'm trying to not look at her her.” Patch could be heard whispering a quick prayer. “Lord, help me to keep my mind and thoughts pure. Keep impurity from my eyegate.” The General, in his  human form entered the courtroom chamber and ascended to the consort's throne. Gavel banged his gavel on the stand. “All rise in honor of her majesty, Sheba, Queen of all Werecats!” the entire courtroom of Werecats stood and shouted. “Hail to her majesty!” Sheba adjusted the thin band of gold on her brow and purred out. “You may be seated.” There was a rustle of cloth as the entire courtroom full of people retook their seats. Gavel turned to Inky, the baliff, whom he had served with for many years. “Inky, what's the docket of cases for today?” “Only two.” Gavel sighed. “Okay. Lets get them over with so I can go home and get out of this ridiculuos getup.” Inky nodded. “The first case is The Werecat Kingdom, versus Slash, son of Cedar.” “Is this case civil or criminal?” “Criminal your honor.” Gavel adjusted his seat position to be more comfortable. “What are the charges the prisoner is facing?” Inky read off the parchment, holding it close to his nearsighted eyes. “Insubordination, assualt on an officer of the Royal Werecat Army, and treasonous and insolent remarks directed at her most benevolant Majesty, Sheba Queen of all Werecats” Gavel nodded. “Is Slash, son of Cedar present in the courtroom here today?” Slash stood, stepping forwards as far as his leads would stretch. “I am,  your honor.” Gavel nodded. “You have heard the charges leveled against you. How do you plead to these charges?” Slash sneered. “Not Guilty, your ornery!” Gavel growled, showing his Feline fangs. “Have a care, Slash or you may be spending time for contempt of court in addition to your other crimes!” Gavel calmed down some. “By what reason do you plead not guilty?” Slash took a deep breath before plunging into shark infested waters. “By reason that these charges are very trumped up and unfair. I did make a comment or two concerning the morality of our beautiful but very loose-belted queen.” Sheba's face contorted into a mask of anger as she released a hiss of pure fury and frustration. Gavel banged his gavel down on the stand. “Silence! This court will not stand for this kind of pure impudence! If you continue acting in this manner, then I may have no other option than to send you to prison until you get some manners through your thick skull!” Slash leered a little. “All respect, sir, Three months in jail with continual beating and interrogation have not taught me any manners, I doubt that any more prison time would teach me any manners.” Gavel sighed and rubbed his temples in an attempt to ward off the headache he knew would be coming. “Slash, you're probably right. That skull of yours is too think to hold any civility at all.” He turned to Inky. “Inky, is the Prosecution here to give their side of the story?” Inky nodded. “The right honable General of the Royal Werecat Army...the....er...The General.”  Gavel motioned to The General. “You may state you complaint.” The General climbed off the Daias and began to pace back and forth between the prisoner's chairs and the judge's stand.- “Thank you, your Honor. I am the one who brought the accucastions before the prisoner in the dock for a multitude of execellent reasons. This grubby, scrawny excuse for a werecat you see tethered to the chair beofre me talked back to me, his ranking superior when I gave him and order. When I pressed the issue of his disobedioence, he flew into a fury and attacked me, leaving me permanently scarred for life, and during the course of the fray he ended up making several crude and treasonous remarks against her High Majesty, Sheba the Magnificent! It was for these reasons that we was imprisioned. And he continues to hold to the sam stubborn and impertinet attitude that found him in the prisions to start with. Time after time, day after day I have given him opportunity after opportunity to recant his position, but the prisoner proved incredibly unyeilding.” Gavel nodded sagely. “And did your imprisonment include those strongarm teqniques I've heard about your goon boys using there in the cell block?” The General blinked. “I have no idea what you're talking about!” Gavel sighed. “Yes you do. While I stand for the same principles you do, I do not approve of all of your tactics. The tactics you use down there are more torture than interrogation. I do not think you'll get a prisoner to recant by beating the snot out of them!” The General sneered. “You're sounding like one of those weak spined Werepuppies, or one of those pathetic Underground members, begging your pardon, your honor.”
     Gavel let loose with an animal snarl as he slammed his gavel down on the podium. “If you weren't the consort to the queen, I'd sentence you to be clapped in irons for that attitude. I can see why Slash jumped you. What he did was wrong in that it broke the law of the land, but I now understand his actions much better!” The General looked taken aback. This was not stunning legal upset he had hoped and longed for all this time. His revenge on Slash for the whipping he had received was starting to crumble. The General tried to save face a little as he waked wit as much dignity as he could muster up to his seat on the raised dais. Slash let a smirk spread across his gaunt face as he muttered to himself. “So it's not coming up all sunshine and roses for Genny Boy like he wanted. Good. There is a little justice left in this cruel old world after all.” Gavel thought for a moment, then muttered more to himself than anyone listening to him. “Hmmm. Slash, what am I gonna do with you. I have the feeling as long as you and The General are in the same general area, you're going to fight like crazy.” He cleared his throat. “Inky, what do the laws say about the charges against the prisoner. Are they executable offenses or not?” Inky shuffled his parchments around for several minutes, holding a lot of them close to his old eyes to make them out better. Inky cleared his throat., “Best I can make out of these dusty old scrolls, Gavel is that no, it's not a executable offense. He can be banished, though.” Gavel nodded sagely again. “True. It separates him and The General and lets the rest of us keep our sanity. If those two aren't fighting and clawing each other all the time, it'll be good for the rest of us. What do you say, your Majesty?”
   Sheba had not really been paying attention to the whole thing, but had been busily engaged in drawing little geometric designs on the armrest of her chair with a filed and painted fingernail. She looked up, startled. “Uh? What”  Gavel sighed and repeated his question. “What do you think about banishing Slash from being a member of the Werecat society?” Sheba blinked before purring out in her soft smooth voice. “That sounds good. Just get rid of the filthy runt.” Gavel nodded. “Slash, you are hereby exiled from this village and are stripped of all rights and privedges as a member of Werecat society. You are to be given a pack of food and a canteen of water and left to fend for yourself.” Gavel swung his gavel down on the wooden stand with a resounding bang. “So be it!” Slash breathed a sigh of relief. “Finally. I'm rid of the General forever.” he said quietly to himself. Gavel looked at Inky. “What's the next case on the docket?” Inky shuffled the papers around until he found the right one and held it up to his face so he could read it. “The Werecat Kingdom Versus Patch the Orphan.” Gavel nodded. “Civil or Criminal, Inky?”* “Criminal, Gavel.” Gavel sighed. “What are the charges being leveled against the defendant?” Inky peered at the parchment held close to his face.”Practicing a religon publicially in defiance of the Werecat code of Conduct. And consorting wit seditious enemies of the royal crown.” Gavel Nodded. “Okay. Is the defendant present in the cortroom at this time?” Patch slowly, painfully rose to his feet. “I am present your Honor.” Gavel nodded. “Good.” he cleared his throat. “Patch the Orphan, you have heard the charges leveled against you by the prosecution. How do you plead to these charges?”
   Patch's face was firm and resolute. “Guilty as Charged your Honor.”
   Gavel blinked. He had not expected this turn of events to occur. “What makes you say that? Why on earth did you decide to plead guilty?”
   Patch's voice was steady and calm, despite his great pain as he answered the judge. “Sir, I have been imprisoned for believing in the Creator and following his way, and worshipping with fellow members of the Underground. He died for me to cleanse my heart.” Gavel cut him short with a wave of his hand. “We do not need to hear any of your religious nonsense, do I make that perfectly clear?” Patch plowed ahead despite Gavel's warning. “begginng your pardon Your Honor, but you need to hear my religious nonesense to understand all aspects of this case. It is because of my beliefs that I stand here today.” Gavel nodded. “Since your offense is not one punished by execution, I am prepared to make you a very execellent offer.” Patch blinked. “What is that?”
   Gavel smile very benevolantly, like a grandfather scolding a naughty grandchild that he still loved dearly, “You can have your position in life restored, plus some if you only do one thing.” Patch knew what was about to follow. He had heard the same word spill out of The General's mouth day after day, week after week, but he asked the question anyways. “Ans what is that one thing you want me to do sir?” Gavel purred out gently, “Only recant your stupid belief in the Creator, or if you will not recant your belief, simply shut up and never mention it again.” Patch's resolve never wavered for an instant. “I cannot and I will not shut up about my belief in the Creator. You would have better luck stopping the sun from coming up in the morning than stopping me from telling others about my faith in the Creator and what he has done for me in my life.” Gavel sighed. “Inky, what should we do with this rebellious young kitten?” Inky laid down his parchment and thought for a moment. “If we allow him to remain free, he will spread this nonsensical poison around the village. We can't really let him remain in jail. The torture and starvation would lead to his death eventually, so to return him to jail would be the equivalent of a death sentence on him.” Inky paused and scratched the bridge of his nose thoughtfully. “ the only really just thing we can do is to banish him. He has a better chance of survival and he'd no longer be in our hair getting in the way with all of his religious nonsensical garbage stuff.” Gavel nodded. “good idea, Inky. Maybe you should have been judge instead of me!” Gavel turned to Sheba, whose attentrion had one again drifted off somewhere beyond the moon. “Your majesty,  what do you say to that punishement for Patch's crimes.” Sheba murmered inattentively. “Yeah, sure, whatever you say. Gavel cleared his throat and raised his gavel high. “Patch the Orphan. As of this monet you are no longer to be considered a member of Werecat society. You are hereby banished from this village and are never to return here under pain of death! So be it!” Gavel's hammer blow punctuated the sentence with a loud, sharp bang. There was a murmer in the courtroom and one guard way in the back could be heard hollering at a fellow guard. “Pay up you welcher. You lost the bet!” Patch slumped in his seat. Gavel turned to Inky. “Hey, Inks. What's the rules of banishement. You know, the equiptment they're allowed to have.” Inky cleared his throat. “Every outcast member is to be given a single canteen of water, 3 days food ration  of bread and dried meat and one small sheath knife. Their iron collars are to remain on their necks as a sign to all who we come across them that they are exiles from Werecat society as a whole.” Gavel nodded. “Set them at free and give them their stuff and send them on their jolly way out of out town!” Gavel turned to Inky. “All this legal work has made me thirsty. What say we go down to the Fighting Tomcat and have ourselves a couple tall mugs of beer?” Inky grinned. “Sounds good, Gavel!” Gavel banged his gavel down on his stand one more time. “Court is now adjourned!” The crowd of Werecats that had came to observe and spectate scattered to the corners of the village chattering. Patch and Slash were soon left alone still tied to the chairs in the front of the * courtroom. Slash sighed deeply. “Well, we're now outcast from our entire way of life, refugees on life's cruel storm, but at least we won't have to look at The General's ugly face every morning while he beats the snot outta us.”
   Patch nodded. “Are we gonna travel together or separate?”
   Slash thought for a few minutes. “In the physical condition we're both in, if we split up, it's only a matter of a few days until we both die. As much as I hate to say it, we need each other right now.”
   Patch nodded. “That we do.” As he said that, a guard came in with two small backpacks slung over one of his shoulder and two leather and wood canteens slug over his shoulder. The guard slung the packs and canteens down. The canteens made a splooshing sound as they hit the floor, signalling that they were full. The guard untied  the lead from the  hook, but still held the loops loosely in his hand: