Shadowstone

A Tale of Redwall

in honor of Brian Jacques, the master

The Gousssom shrews are off to war,

with our rapiers close to paw.

woe to him will not go

to fight the vermin foe.

Logalog Logalog Log-a-log!

Guosssom shrews must live or die

Free beneath the open sky.

Battle on while we have breath,

With no fear of death.

Logalog Logalog Log-a-log!-

battle cry of the Guerrila Union of South Stream Shrews of Mossflower

Prologue

Fog drifted amid the tall reeds of the swarthy pool, a gentle rolling mist that enveloped almost everything that it touched. Amid the shroud, a single lantern burned and swayed from side to side as the tiny logboat approached the shores of the tiny island.

Those who had made this journey had come for the ceremony like many of their ancestors before, and even as the female shrew hKira stepped onto the sandy shore, she heard the familiar beat of the small drums that the shrews chose to use for this ritual. Her handmaiden, a shorter shrew named Merweather; passed her the ceremonial lantern as they walked up the rocky path but for now Kira kept her eyes on the many of her kin who stood faithfully on either side of the beach.

As she approached the cavern which lay near the mountainous depths of the island, she heard a faint rustling of leaves from within and saw the familiar face of their leader, Log-a-log.

The aged shrew carried a rapier that looked to be bent and carved by the teeth of a serpent and with his one good eye he smiled at his daughter, and gestured for her to sit.

"Kira, my Firstblood, faithful and true. Have you recited the oath of our tribe, the code of the Gousssom?" her father asked as his shaky paw found the rapier in his belt and he drew it.

"Yes; Chief Log-a-log," she answered, as she bowed her head gracefully and he used the rapier to cut the necklace he had worn all his days, dangling the small shiny jewel in her face.

"Then this is your birthright, and your solemn vow. Protect this Blackstone, for it is a sign of your leadership, a sign of our future," Log-a-log told her. Kira took the special jewel and stared at it curiously, a hundred questions running thru her head as the ceremony continued. Her aged mother doused her with the waters of the Great Inland Sea and then the younger shrews began to sing in harmony the oath to wage battle on those who would do their tribe harm.

As the song continued the older members of the shrew tribe joined in and gathered at the mouth of the cave, now almost a hundred strong singing in harmony the battle cry of their ancestors.

Once the melody had finished, her father raised his aged staff that had kept him upright and declared, "Let the celebration begin!"

The younger of the tribe rushed past Log-a-Log to head for the cellars that ran deep in the island crevices to prepare the feast while the older gossiped amongst themselves about all of the changes their great tribe had gone thru in so many generations.

Kira and Merweather were guided toward a secret chamber behind the chief's room, a long row of tomes and volumes that detailed the history of the Gousssom and her father said in a solemn tone, "Now this is yours to protect, my daughter. You will make our legacy even stronger."

She said nothing as she walked about the room and ran her paw along the dusty volumes, unsure where to begin. Then she touched the Blackstone which hung on her neck and asked, "Father, why do we use this stone as part of our sacred rite?"

The aged Log-a-Log narrowed his eyes as if he was trying to recall some ancient story and then muttered, "It is tradition, Kira. It keeps our tribe safe."

"But... we did face off against the deadly savages from the north. And what about the famine during the last winter?" Kira asked, making her father even more distressed.

"We cannot question our tradition! The stone is what makes us Gousssom, now come! We must enjoy the feast prepared in your honor," he said as he left the archives. Kira looked toward her handmaiden who seemed lost in thought as well and then the two of them followed behind, walking toward the cellars of the island.

A banquet table made of the finest wood from Mossflower had been brought in for the feast, and as the female shrew entered the room she smelt a waft of amazing aromas dance thru the room.

Candied chestnuts sat in a bowl near rows of shrewbread, the famous hearty bread making her mouth instantly water as she saw the shrew cooks bringing in bottles of huckleberry wine and baskets of steamed turnips. Cabbage and diced beets were served as the main dish and for dessert she caught a scent of her mother's infamous barley cake and scones.

Spiced bread and hazelnuts were on the other end of the table as she was encouraged to take the seat her father normally took the lead, and as she did so the room fell silent; clearly waiting for her to make a speech.

Kira looked at the throng of shrews that she had called family for ages and then smiled, raising her glass of sweet elderroot tea and told them all, "Let us feast toward a new generation!" The crowd went wild and began to tear into the food as she sat there and watched them, her mind still on the necklace her father had given her.

She glanced across the room toward a small group of elderly shrews that often cared for her and many other dibbuns as children, the ladies gossiping and cheerfully devouring portions of the cake that she had been tempted to eat too and decided that if she was going to learn the answer, they would know.

Walking over toward the shrewmaidens, Kira smiled toward her elders and bowed respectfully as they all looked toward her. "My my, I dunnit believe we has ever had a prettier Log-a-Log. That tis for sure," one of them said with a hearty laugh.

"Ye must be blind. I remember Rucco in his day was a fine lookin' shrew," another answered. "An' what about Log-a-Log Brigsby? Now that was a fine strong chieftain!" another added.

"Miladies," Kira said interrupting them before they could continue their argument. "I loved your tales as a child. I wonder if you might be able to tell me one more?" she asked as she removed the Blackstone and showed it to them.

"Ye wish to know the story of our Kin's first fight?" One shrewmaiden asked as she held the stone, feeling its smooth surface.

"Yes; how did we come to be the strong Gousssom we are today?" Kira wondered. "A fine leader ye will be to learn such a tale," another added. "The Shadowstone was not always with us," the first remarked.

"The Shadowstone?" Kira repeated as she took a seat alongside the aged shrews.

"It was before de days of Urthstripe the Strong, before our kin fought the Deepcoiler and solved the mystery of the White Ghost. Mossflower was dangerous territory back then, and none were as dangerous as the weasel Selah Falsetooth!" The First shrewmaiden told her as she settled in and they lit a candle, it's light reflecting off the dark stone as the tale began.