"What do we have here? Are you two AWOL from your labor duties? Or are you simply trespassing blatantly on the land of Shah Parikh, Emperor of Malabar?" Banagher bit his lip, looking wary, but Sidhe bristled at the accusations.
"The hell we are, you overgrown tree rat! We escaped from a slave ship in the storm last night, and had we had any other choice than to land here and meet the likes of you, we would have taken it." Banagher started at the squirrel's insubordinate speech.
"If we are trespassing, we've done so unwittingly," added the otter hurriedly, trying to assuage the pine marten, who was looking increasingly furious. "And if you would escort us to the nearest port, we would gladly be out of your hair."
The pine marten sniffed, placing a hand on his saber. "I have no reason to believe that you are indeed escaped slaves. Anybeast who had escaped Shah Parikh's labor details would give the same excuse." Sidhe looked ready to rush at the marten in his rage, but Banagher put a paw on his arm to settle him. Nonetheless, the squirrel let loose a string of longshore profanity the likes of which the otter had never heard.
"Take them into custody!" the marten roared disgustedly. The enlisted beasts moved in, grabbing the two beasts roughly from behind and binding their arms. Sidhe struggled ferociously, kicking and biting as best he could.
"Struggling will only make it worse, squirrel," the pine marten added, spinning on his heel to lead the group away through the jungle.
"Is there a problem, Captain Fein?" a voice suddenly rang out from the shadows. The entire company froze in its tracks. Banagher and Sidhe watched cautiously as a figure stepped out into the scattered light that was falling through the treetops to the jungle floor. It was another pine marten, of similar age but higher rank than the first. His face held an authoritative, but kind, expression, which was a stark contrast to the haughty demeanor of the first marten. And while the first marten had been strikingly handsome, despite his arrogance, this marten was plainer-looking, but had striking, charismatic eyes.
"Ah, Major Blair," the first marten, apparently a Captain Fein, began haltingly, clearly nervous. "We found these two coming off the beach. I thought they might be escapees from the labor detail, or treasure hunters. I thought it best that we took them into custody." Fein's made an attempt to finish his statement with an expression of certainty, but his words had the slight inflection of a question.
Major Blair watched Fein, then turned to the squirrel and otter as he made his reply.
"And what do these beasts have to say for themselves?" Before Sidhe could get a chance to speak, Banagher began an explanation.
"Yes, sir, we escaped off a slave ship in the storm last night. We were able to ride a raft into shore, where this regiment came upon us."
"I see. Well, Captain Fein, what do you think about that?" The lower-ranking marten touched the hem on his military shirt self-consciously.
"We have no way of knowing whether to believe them, sir. Until we can question them better, there is no need to endanger the regiment by leaving them free to do harm."
Blair was silent as he walked slowly behind the squirrel and otter. He gently grabbed the otter's paws, then the squirrel's, and examined them. Then he walked to the front of the group.
"The otter has been an oar beast for some time - the calluses on his paws could come from nothing else. The squirrel has new blisters, indicating that he was a recent arrival, but an oar beast nonetheless. Release them," he ordered with a nod to the beasts who were holding Sidhe and Banagher. Both prisoners rubbed their already raw wrists, and Fein quietly fumed at having his authority undermined.
"Well, I'm glad some beast around here has some sense," Sidhe growled, casting a vicious look at Fein.
"Captain Fein was merely being cautious. We've had a number of escapes lately," Blair ameliorated, although Fein clearly took the remark as patronizing. His expression turned blacker.
"Alright gentlemen. My name is Major Lucien Blair, Emperor's Fusiliers. I see you've already met Captain Auley Fein. Now, what are your names?"
"I'm Sidhe Cruiskeen," the squirrel volunteered a bit grumpily. "And right now names are not quite as important as food and water to the likes of us." The Major jumped.
"Of course, forgive me. Hand them your canteens and rations," he ordered to two of the beasts in the regiment. They passed over their provisions, and within moments the squirrel and otter had drank nearly their weight in water.
"Thanks," said Banagher breathlessly, water dripping from the whiskers around his chin. The Major nodded. "And I'm Banagher Vale." Major Blair stared at him after this introduction.
"Vale. You're not Eamon Vale's boy, are you?" Banagher nodded. "Well, then. It's a small world. I trained under your father in Galway. What's the old riverdog up to?"
"Mmmph," Banagher began, his mouth full of hard tack. "He's still running basic training, but in Devon now." Sidhe looked surprised, and a bit pleased, that they now had a solid connection to the authorities here, but Captain Fein's expression did not improve as these ties were discovered.
"Alright, my new comrades," the Major called heartily. "Let's head back to camp. We can discuss your future plans there." The squirrel and otter nodded and followed wearily as the Major and the Captain led the regiment through the green jungle back to camp.