The squirrelmaid
was alone on the shore. The village was some way away, and besides, no one in
their right minds would come down there when the winds were blowing in
corsairs' favour. That meant when the breeze was propelling vermin ships
towards land.
Everyone
else had probably retreated inside, she thought with scorn. She herself loved
the wind. A pity it wasn't a gale.
Ranguvar Foeseeker was foolish. Even when she saw the
blood-red ship sailing towards her, she didn't turn and run back to the village
to warn the tribe. She stood, rooted to the spot, as corsairs leapt over the
side of their ship.
She only acted when they grabbed her, and by then it was
far too late. Ranguvar bit and scratched, kicking the corsairs with her
powerful footpaws, but to no avail. Howling, they carried her on board and
flung her down into the hold with the other oarslaves.
*
It
was said that her brother blamed himself for her disappearance. No one knew,
but his quiet nature became silent, and though he opened out to his gentle
wife, nobody could extract his words from her. It was a great sorrow to all the
village when she died. Ranguvar had not been so missed, adventurous and intense
as she had been.
The
squirrel drew completely into himself, and none of that village ever knew if he
had ever become the sort of creature he used to have been. Not even his son
knew, not having known his father, not really, before the tragedies had overtaken
them.
Why? Because a season later, when young Felldoh had gone
down to the shore with his father, while the young one was playing with a
javelin, he had been captured, along with Barkjon. It had been an almost exact
replay of Ranguvar's kidnap. Only this time they were forced to build a
fortress for their slaver…Marshank…
__________________________________________________________
A/N: This is the story of Felldoh and Barkjon from Martin
The Warrior and Ranguvar Foeseeker, from The Legend Of Luke, as if you hadn't
guessed from the fact that they're named. Romsca asked me to write a
story in which Ranguvar and Felldoh are related, and this is it – dedicated to
her.
If anyone's interested, Castaways Of The Flying
Dutchman is a great book, and as Ember Trillwind said in the
RWOnline review of it, Castaways has talking animals, oceanic
adventures, and riddles, so if anyone has been put off by the fact that it
isn't Redwall, fear not. It's just as good.
I'm taking advantage – or trying to – of the fact that I
have an almost completely new computer. Apart from a few leads and the
speakers, there is absolutely nothing left of the computer I wrote Northland
Fighters and Anywhere Is on. It's got a new monitor, new motherboard
and a new cover for that, and a new printer. It'd be quicker to say what
there is left.
The title comes from a mixture of Felldoh and Ranguvar –
Foeseeker, and Felldoh always seemed to use javelins in Martin The Warrior.
Mariel Gullwhacker.
