Naagat-Yara

by Brouwer

Strange new creatures are starting to creep around Mossflower Wood, and gentlebeasts are going missing without a trace. Deyna may have only just started his new life at Redwall, but a vision from Martin the Warrior will send him on a quest that stretches off any known map in order to save his newfound home. The Taggerung returns in… "NAAGAT-YARA."

1. Prologue

"For ages upon ages and miles upon miles, word has spread fah an' wide of an abbey in Mossflowah Wood: a great sandstone fo'tress of the fah North, named for the scahlett hue o'the walls that have housed many heroes. Countless vermin and bah-barians have piled their bodies against this abbey… but none have evvah prevailed—"

"Iz the walls red cuzza the vermin blood that's spilt on 'em?"

"Shaddap, Derrink!"

Several of the audience-members groaned, huddling closer to the bonfire on the whispering shoreline with their eyes and hearts both aglow with excitement. They were great sea otters, as rough-and-tumble as any maritime dog to set a paw in the ocean. Their ears glittered with jeweled awls and golden earrings; cured sharkskin-leather hats with wide curved brims perched on many a head; and some of their massive rudders bore deep scars and earthy tattoos that were displayed with equal pride. Several of the listeners grabbed scruffy little Derrick and clamped his mouth shut, then waved at the speaker who sat authoritatively on a great boulder. The great sea-worn rock jutted out from amongst the ocean waves near waist-depth, and their storyteller had selected this particular seat so that his voice would carry to the massive throng that crowded all over the beach and the mountainside. He had chosen well; every word of his tale had been rebounding off the waves and rising up to even the furthest members of the audience, who were now beckoning eagerly for him to continue. "Arroight, Tikky, gow on, then!"

"Tell us about Pinkwall Abbey!"

"Tain't Pinkwall, stupid, didn'ya hear 'em? It's Bloodwall!"

"Oy don't care what it's called, so stow yeh tongues a'fore Oy cut 'em out," the largest of the otters roared, thundering with a voice so deep that the very sand beneath their seats seemed to tremble. All of his subjects quelled beneath his gaze and became deadly silent. Their leader was a massive creature, his every hair silver-white with immense age… but his eyes burned still with as much vitality as those of his youngest subjects. "Now," he growled to the storyteller who sat before them, illuminated by the fire. "Tell me, Tikky… tell me why my niece an' nephew ain't comin' home no more."