Crith Thalmheinn
*)Mossflower Wood: Abandoned Fortress(*
"Father?"
I groaned and got up, shaking the dirt off of my fur. My tail was bloodied from a skirmish last night with Mistmantle soldiers, and the horn on my head still had some Sciuri entrails on it. I yawned, then looked at Martin.
Martin was my son. More importantly, he was the only link I had to the outside world in this place, because of his liaisons with the Abbey. He still wore the rags he was wearing when the Abbot expelled him for treason. Bullshit. The only "treason" he committed was killing the Lutra he had with him to protect me. He was a tad smaller than I was, his bare black feet and hands steadied with purpose, both hands on his scabbard and the mercurial sword one of the Mistmantlers had dropped the night before. His tail was longer than mine, but just as lethal at the right moments, although he trusted the Redwaller brand of swordplay over the use of his tail. His mouselike body betrayed his mother's Mossflower Mouse blood, and the small horn on his head was bloodied a little bit from the skirmish last night. While his coat was clean, I was still covered in blood.
"Yes?" I asked.
"I just talked with the Abbot again. Same old stipulations."
For some reason, the Abbot was petrified of me and refused to allow me to live inside Redwall Abbey with my son and his dame. The same people who recognized the potential of him becoming a warrior also paled at the thought that he should even be allowed to live with both parents. Personally, I hoped Crispin's troops assassinated the Abbot and allowed Redwall to appoint someone who wasn't so blasted racist.
I walked over to the river running beside the fortress and jumped in, displacing a Lutari not expecting my approach. I thrashed in the water to get some of the blood off, then stepped out and shook off.
The times had completely changed from when I was a pup. I had barely managed to survive the Clan Wars on Redwall, but my parents paid the price for protecting me when they were killed by someone, whom the humans with him called "Jeremy." Now, apparently, a Mossflower ship landed on Mistmantle and proceeded to rape and pillage the place before they were stopped. The United Nations, which Mistmantle and Redwall were part of, condemned Crispin's government for being so quick to seek war, and thus there were constant skirmishes between the Abbot's troops and the King's troops. Redwall had the advantage of careful planning and the support of Salamandastron and the UN; Mistmantle had the advantage of numbers and technology because of their alliances with Ivalice and the Dije Province.
I sensed another quake coming. They had been low-grade, but constant ever since I met Martin's dame. This one was still weak, but definitely more powerful than the last one.
"Not much longer until the big one hits," I said. Martin could sense it too, I knew. His Absol blood couldn't allow him to simply be ignorant.
"And when it does, I hope the Abbot breaks his neck," Martin said. "I mean no disrespect to him, but he needs to get with the times. He's the only one on Crandon who actually cares about who he lets under his control."
At this time, I smelled something. I looked up into the trees and saw a Mossflower Sciuri - I could tell by the size of her - come down towards us.
"The A-" she started when she hit the ground.
"...can kiss my half-Absol arse if he thinks I'll come back," said Martin. "Tell him to allow my father inside the Abbey."
"Actually, he wanted to invite the both of you to the war planning going on in an hour," she said.
I looked at Martin. He wasn't that naïve, but we had no reason to believe this wasn't on the level.
"We'll be there, but only if the Abbot allows my father to step inside the Abbey this time instead of howling outside its gates," he hissed in Sylvan. "He needs to be treated the same as you would treat anybeast, too. If we smell one sign of treachery, his life is forfeit."
The Sciuri gulped, her tail twitching. Squirrels weren't known for being bad-news messengers, and I had a feeling that Martin was going to sense what I did. Sadly, he did not.
"Fine," she said. "I'll see you in an hour." With that, she climbed back into the trees and dashed off towards the Abbey.
I looked at Martin. "I suggest we don't go. That Sciuri was only trying to lead us to our own slaughter."
"Baloney," he said, swishing his sword. "They wouldn't bother hurting a fellow Mossflower Mouse, would they?"
I thought, Perhaps... But you have my blood coursing in your veins.
We were there at the right time, Martin riding atop me. The castle-like structure had several Sciuri and Lutra posted on its battlements. The otters got a glimpse of us and prepared to throw javelins or sling bullets at us, and I wasn't proud of the fact that they'd acquired wristrockets from Earth. Y-shaped metal and rubber band equaled yelping Absol or yelping Harbinger.
"We were asked to come by the Head Abbot," I said in flawless Sylvan. "Let us in."
The Lutra thought for a bit, then asked that the gate be opened. We passed though the doors and into the Abbey courtyard.
Several hedgehog and mouse children were running about playing "tag", while other kids were hiding in bushes, probably to duck k.p. I saw the mousemaid Martin came out of scolding a particularly rambunctious Dibbun who had vandalized a wall with words a Dibbun had no right to know and a particularly vile Mistmantler slur. I looked at her and hoped she caught my gaze. She finished scolding the mousebabe and looked at me and Martin before giving the both of us a gesture I knew she would be rebuked for if another brother or sister was watching.
We entered the next building, where a Lutra was waiting for us. He looked at Martin, then wordlessly beckoned us to follow him. We did, and I got a look at all the portraits on the wall.
"A vagrant, a rebel, two orphans, two direct descendants, then to a Sciuri, an assassin, another Sciuri, and a myrmidon? How exactly do you decide who becomes a warrior? Do you draw from a hat?"
He ignored my disrespect, but I noticed he was unarmed. Doubtless he knew his claws would lose to mine in this hallway, but I knew that deep down he would love to aim a javelin through my throat.
The Lutra led us to a small room, opening the door. I caught a glimpse of a lock on the door, but Martin either didn't or ignored it. I walked into the room, Martin still on my back. Once we entered, the Lutra shut and locked the door behind me.
The room was dominated by a large table. At one end was a chair for Martin, while at the other end, six Lutra and the Head Abbot were sitting, poring over a map of Crandon.
"So the rats and stoats of the Deathpaw fleet from the South Animal Islands are siding with us?" asked one of the Lutra, pointing to a pewter ship figurine on the map.
"Yes," said the Head Abbot. "They're raiding Ivalicean ships, and have stolen airship plans... Oh, you're here." The Abbot put the figurines on the map away and rolled it up. "So I heard you were attacked last night by Mistmantlers."
"We were," I said, in floating-point mode. "I don't know why they would want an old decrepit fortress once used by a demon, a rat horde, and scared Lutari, however."
"That fortress is in a good tactical position, that's why," said another Lutra. "It's not that hard to garrison troops there, provided they don't care about the wet ground."
Martin slammed his fist on the table. "Let's get down to sandstone bricks. Why did you call us to this meeting?"
"Simple. We wanted your advice on how to defend that river by the fortress."
I sensed the plan instantly. They were planning to exterminate us in order to use our fortress as a stronghold!
Martin, for once today, also sensed it. "I would say garrison troops at the mouth of that river and get some means to blow holes in ships. You *do* have Earthling support, don't you?"
"We wouldn't have time to set up there before they sailed right by us," an otter rebutted. "The Long Patrol couldn't even get there and set things up in time!"
That's because the Long Patrol is technologically-imbecilic and composed of gits, I thought. "Why not use guerrilla warfare? Those Sciuri and Lutra you sent our way the other day caught us off-guard." Actually, that hunting party had been slain by me because the Lutra were more concerned with avenging their betrayed comrades.
"Call them squirrels and otters, please, Harbinger," said the Abbot.
"Call me an Absol, please," I said. "You wouldn't like it if I called you Hissi bait, now, would you?"
"No," said the Abbot, "and guerrilla warfare, as you call it, is something the Mistmantlers have adapted to."
Bull. I reset twelve of the traps your Sciuri originally set on a daily basis. "Well, then, we can't help you."
"Oh, but you can."
As he said that, I sensed the vibrations start to come as the Lutra got out of their seats and pulled out slings and spears. The big one was coming, and I didn't want to spend it cooling to room temperature.
"You can help us by leaving that fortress and never coming back."
"Martin, under the table!" I barked as I charged the door, whacking it with my head horn and my shoulder. The door's lock broke, and I was out in the hall as a javelin sliced across my side. I yelped and ran, two sling stones missing me as blood soaked my fur.
Then the quake hit. It was Richter 8 at the worst, causing some stone from the ceiling to start to fall. I kept on running, and hung a hard left, dashing out the door before the entrance was blocked by falling debris.
The courtyard was in panic. The mousemaid was busy getting Dibbuns to safety, and was trying to grab the mousebabe she scolded earlier as a stone from the battlements above started to fall where she was standing.
I charged forwards and checked her hard to the side, the stone falling on my left rear leg, crushing it. Excruciating pain shot up my leg and I yelped as blood started to seep out from under the rock. I soon lost consciousness.
*)-(*
I woke up hours later. A badger mother was bandaging the stump that remained of my left rear leg, which I couldn't feel anymore, except for a vague itching feeling. Martin was rubbing my throat, getting food down it.
"Oww..." I groaned. Martin looked at me.
"What you did was very stupid, Father. Had you been a bit slower, we'd be burying your body where you fell."
I felt something hug me, and I felt a bandage along my side where the javelin struck.
"Thank you," cried the mousemaid I'd mated.
"Mar..." I said weakly.
"He's dead. I fled the room shortly after you did. He gave chase, and we wound up in the kitchens. We got into the cellars, and I almost got crushed by a rolling wine cask. He wasn't quick enough."
I sighed, then looked at the badger who was bandaging me. I could hear her threatening the Lutra nearby helping clean up the mess, telling them to drop their arms.
"Mother..." said Martin.
"I am well aware of why you betrayed your comrades," said the mousemaid. "I can't understand why the Abbot refused to give you a chance."
The badger mother replied to this with a short poem. Because she was speaking in a dialect of Sylvan I was unfamiliar with, I didn't understand it. Martin did.
"So my dad coming here was what sealed his fate?" he asked.
"Yes," said the badger mother. "That poem was left to the Abbot by Martin the Warrior himself."
"Could you say it for me?" I asked Martin.
"I can," he replied.
When warrior and father set adrift
Are allowed into their home once more
In the midst of a squirrel war
When the earth refuses to keep its quiet
And vermin start to fight defending it
The Abbey will honor a new head
Marked by his association with Scourges dead."
"So the new Abbot is..."
"Probably a rat," said Martin. "The abbot wrote down the poem, capitalizing 'Scourges'. The only beast referred to as a Scourge was the rat Cluny."
"The squirrel war..."
"It's this one. Everyone outside the conflict calls it the Sciuri War."
"And the warrior is..." I started before looking at his belt. The mercurial longsword and another, unfamiliar, sword hung at his belt.
"Warrior and father cast adrift. That line refers to myself and you, respectively. I'm the next Warrior."
I smiled weakly as the badger finished with my stump. "See if you can stand," she said, standing back to her full height. I never understood how a badger from Redwall had a head or two over an Eyrie.
I got on all fours, losing my balance because of my amputated leg and falling over. The mousemaid kept me upright, and I soon managed to walk about short one leg.
"With our luck, however, we're probably going to be defending a broken Abbey. The badgers are helping clear out areas, but we aren't able to get more material for a few days."
I looked at Martin. "Well, then, if they come, let them. I doubt they'd be willing to fight me again after last night."
"But you're in no--" started the badger mother.
"You underestimate me," I replied. I walked over to the sealed-off entrance to the hall that, not a few hours ago, was intended to lead us to our doom. "Such a shame that my arrival caused his death. I understand now why he didn't want me coming with Martin and why he wanted the both of us killed."
Martin looked behind him, at the gate, which had taken some damage in the earthquake. "However... We still have the fortress."
My ears perked up. "Hmm?"
"I sent a few bands of Lu--"
"Otters, son. No need to be racist."
"Fine then. I sent a few bands of otters and squirrels to watch the fortress."
"That'll give us some time to repair," said the badger mother. "I'll get the moles."
I stared at the entrance to the hall. Regardless of how this war went, we would not lose to an earthquake.
Chapter End Notes:
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended, and is applicable for all consecutive chapters that follow.