A/N:
Yes I know I'm crazy another fic. This is a modern tale of Redwall, something I've wanted to do for years. It takes place between the spring of 2010 through to the summer and fall of 2010. Essentially it is what I think the world of Redwall would be like in a current time. I'm using Mossflower as a model for the UK, and I've kept other countries named as they are. I hope you enjoy it, I would love to get feedback.
-Killy
Return to the Ridge.
March
Frank Watermeadow, a bank vole well into middle age surveyed the countryside. He stood aloft on a hill side, looking out onto the western plain and Mossflower country. Prime real estate, and after years of negotiations he finally was able to purchase it. The tranquility of the spring day was disturbed by the rumble of lorries and excavation equipment behind him. Watermeadow had hired the best team of mole contractors money could buy, they were known for their speed and fine quality of their work. Time was of the essence if he was to build the additional venues that would serve as part of the upcoming Olympic village. His mobile rang shrilly; digging the phone from his suit pocket he answered it.
"Watermeadow, yes I'm at the site. Yes they've already started digging into the soil, got all the papers and permits yesterday... Wait a moment will ye." He paused in his conversation nodding to a mole worker who was anxiously trying to get his attention.
"What is it?" He hissed indicating to his phone.
"Zurr Oi thinks ye'll wanna see dis un." He took off his construction helmet and tugged his snout respectfully.
Grumbling the bankvole followed to where one of the excavators had stopped working. A group of moles stood hovering over the hole conversing in their quaint molespeech.
"Burr Oi, t'aint never seen a ting loik dis afore." The mole who lead Watermeadow sighed with a shake of his sable head. With a forlorn look upon his humble features, he pointed a digging claw towards the small pit dug by the excavator. Still partially buried in the soil, were the bones of an unidentifiable creature. The rib cage protruded the most, two ribs cracked by the digging equipment. The pelvic bone of the beast was half visible from the earth, along with part of the right femur.
"Hurr, dis 'ere be a sad soight. Nobeast deserves t'be murdored loik dis. "The mole wiped away a tear trembling down his cheek. Moles were such tender hearted spirits, so easily affected by the plight of others.
"OI called ee police office those 'uns 'ill sort dis out hurr oi." Another mole reassured his co-worker.
Watermeadow glanced into the pit sighing heavily, this would slow things down. Another setback to add to his growing list of delays.
…..
Eight in the morning was usually a quiet hour in the West Mossflower mortuary. This particular morning however was nothing like the typical work day. The office had been abuzz with rumours and activity, speculations on murder passed from creature to creature. This particular region of the country was known for its low crime rate, leading to office kitchen debates as to where the murderer may have come from.
Staying out of the gossip was Dr. George Spiny, a cheerful older hedgehog who had served as coroner for a good number of seasons. Despite the unpleasant and sometimes gruesome nature of his employment Dr. Spiny was always in high spirits. He delighted in his work, while most went to medical school to care for the living; Spiny found his calling to be finding answers for those left behind.
Taking his lab coat off the hook he pulled it on over his spikes, buttoning it across his ample middle. Switching on the bright lights he squinted and lamented on the new design of the morgue. "What are they trying to do, make the place look like a television set?" He grumbled as he approached the series of locked compartments containing bodies, yet to be released to the funeral home. On his belt hung a series of keys, held in place with retractable elastic cord. The hedgehog fumbled with the keys a moment, he frequently forgot which key fit into which locker. At last he found it, turning the lock he opened the holding compartment labeled B-10. Within the compartment the bones of the creature discovered at the construction site the previous day. Much of the dirt had been carefully removed to allow for closer inspection. Now the bones lay, set out as best they could consider the slight damage to the skeleton.
Dr. Spiny lumbered over to his computer. Sliding his keyboard aside, he squinted down at the sticky note he hid under it. On the small square of yellow, was every pass word and username the old hedgehog had to use on his computer. Numerous times he had asked the IT department to set everything to the same password. Due to policy, this couldn't be done, the only solution Dr. Spiny saw was to write everything down. He would forget it otherwise. With clumsy paws he typed in his information and waited for the machine to start up. Returning the keyboard to its usual place he heard the door click and a lovely young mouse came in. Setting her purse aside she pulled on her lab coat smiling apologetically.
"So sorry I'm late, Dr. Spiny. The roads were dreadful this morning, and then of course Marigold out front wanted to chatter away. "She sighed heavily; the squirrel receptionist was known to be quite the talker. She was the sort of creature that made it very difficult to back out of any conversation, once she engaged in one. The older hedgehog smiled and continued working away at his computer clicking on a document and sending it to the small printer at the other end of the desk.
"Don't fret over it June, you're not that late. Please, call me George. As you will be working full time here from now on it only seems fair we start using first names. "The printer buzzed and whirled producing several printed sheets. Collecting them up and stapling them neatly, he laid the report on his desk. "The police will be joining us shortly, regarding the skeleton in B-10. Would you be a dear and assist me moving it for viewing?"
June nodded; standing on either end they lifted the large metal tray containing the bones and moved it to a well lit table. As if on cue Marigold the receptionist tapped on the door before opening. Beside her, stood a pair of male squirrels. Each was dressed in police uniforms, their features kindly, yet each carried themselves with the utmost professionalism. The receptionist offered a smile to both the hedgehog and mouse. Her normally chatty nature diminished greatly, she didn't enjoy coming down this way. "Detectives: Richard Oakapple and Jon Barko to see you Dr. Spiny, I'll leave you to it." She quickly left the room hurrying back to her desk.
The two squirrels warmly shook the paws of the hedgehog and mouse. "We understand that the body of a young creature was brought in yesterday, possibly a body dump." Detective Oakapple began.
Dr. Spiny picked up the report off his desk and passed it to the detective. "It was a curious find, however I don't believe it was a simple body dump." He began towards the table where the skeleton was laid out. The two detectives and June followed close behind.
"Any indication of foul play?" Detective Barko moved in to get a better look, while his co-worker flipped through the report.
The hedgehog nodded his spiny head. "Yes, actually, the young hare was defiantly the victim of a violent attack. The right forearm was fractured, along with two of the ribs, not including the damage to the skeleton at the site. "With his paw he pointed out several of the injuries on the bones.
Oakapple looked closely nodding, and scribbling notes in his notebook. "Some of these bones look as though they have been cut with a knife of some kind. I know there isn't much left of the poor young 'un, but any luck finding anything we might be able to use to try to identify him? I'm sure he has family out there looking for him."
Alongside the body was a small box holding plastic baggies, each carefully labeled. "When we removed the soil we noticed most of the clothing had rotted away, whatever scraps I could find I preserved. The buttons, as they were composed of tin by the looks of it, survived well. I think this young fellow, might be quite old. Have a look for yourself." Passing one bag to Detective Oakapple he watched as the squirrel examined it. The button was fairly small but highly detailed. Embossed in the metal was the outline of a mountain and the letters L and P.
Trying to contain his excitement the older hedgehog continued. "I'm only a simple medical examiner, but the wife is a school teacher. She's always watching and taping history programs on the MBC and what have you. I think this young lad was a member of the Long Patrol. His bones indicate he was only around ten, possibly even twelve seasons old. Perhaps a runner or galloper of some sort, you have to remember there was a time when a child of ten seasons was considered nearly grown. Hundreds of seasons ago there was supposed to have been a big battle out near where his body was found. I think this creature may have been slain in that battle."
Passing the button to Detective Barko, Oakapple nodded. "You might be right there; if that's the case this is beyond us. Whoever did kill this young 'un has long since passed on to the dark forest. "
June
"In a moment we will be coming through the cabin with light refreshments. This will also be the last opportunity to make purchases from the onboard duty free shop. Information and prices of products available are located in the Enroute magazine in front of you."
Dan Firdance yawned and stretched out his paws in his seat. While the squirrel didn't mind flying, the seven hour flight from Toronto to Mossflower was a bit taxing. He glanced over to his daughter Bethany. Wrapped up in the thin green blanket the airline provided the teen slumbered away. The mouse stewardess came to their seats pushing the heavy cart. Despite the long flight she still looked as fresh and alert as she had been when they took off.
"Would you like anything to drink?" she asked sweetly setting a blue berry muffin on his tray.
"Coffee for me please, and orange juice for her when she wakes up."
The stewardess poured up a Styrofoam cup of coffee, setting it next to the muffin with a small packet of sugar and an individual plastic cream serving. Then with a smile she laid out a second muffin and juice for his daughter.
Emptying the cream and sugar into his coffee the squirrel stirred it with his plastic stir stick, watching the progress of the aircraft on the small screen mounted on the back of the chair in front of him. Grinning as he saw the tiny animated plane leave the coast, he leaned over his daughter and opened the window covering. They were getting closer to their destination, so the plane was flying at a lower altitude. Few clouds blocked the view of the sea and when he stretched his head he could make out the coastline. There on the western shores it stood as it had for all time, the great fire mountain. In the morning sun it appeared to have a buff coloured glow. Dan waited for the moment to be right, just as the plane was about to crest over the shoreline. Then, ever so gently he shook his daughter's shoulder.
"Beth," He whispered. "Beth, look outside."
With whiskers twitching the squirrel youth grumbled as he father woke her up. "Dad, I'm sleeping." Blinking she rubbed her eyes passing her father a glare, before following his paw to look out the window. There in all its glory, was Salamandastron. Dan smiled watching as his daughter's face melted from one of teenage annoyance, to childlike wonder.
The seasons had been both kind and hard to Salamandastron. The legendary mountain of Badgerlords and the perilous hares of the Long Patrol, had survived countless wars. The great domed peak that in days of old glowed red, with the fired of a forge was now battered. It looked as though a great giant had taken a hammer to it, leaving craters in the rock. In truth the damage was rather new in the mountain's long history. Bombers in the First and Second World War could find an easy target in the prominent fortress. Just north of Salamandastron a series of hangers and an airfield was visible, another addition from the two World Wars. What had once been long stretches of shoreline, now hosted buildings and houses. The Western Shore had tripled in population at the turn of the century, and the landscape too was altered as creatures built homes and businesses in the area. However one thing remained the same; and that was Salamandastron, preserved by time and legend it watched over all.
"That's amazing!" Beth pressed her nose to the window watching as they flew over head.
Sipping his coffee and breaking apart the muffin her father nodded. "Sure is, I'll have to see if we can't get you down there before the summer is out."
"We could go in there?"
Dan nodded eating the small airplane breakfast. "Oh yeah, big tourist spot Salamandastron. They have a military tattoo every summer, and part of the mountain is open to the public. "
Beth's grin broadened at the prospect. Peering out the window again she sighed drinking down her orange juice. "How much longer till we arrive?"
Glancing at the map her father stretched as best her could. "Another hour or so if we're passing Salamandastron now. Why don't you watch one of those programs they have on entertainment system. I saw they had some Doctor Who? episodes. I think that one where they go to Sampetra and meet up with Martin II and company is on it. You know the one, the one where Emperor Umblaz is actually a mind controlling alien. Which given the accounts that he could hypnotize creatures, might be the most sensible explanation."
Clipping her earbuds into the planes entertainment system, Beth followed the directions on the touch screen and began watching the program. She was almost as excited as her father to be going to Mossflower to work on an archaeological dig. Although, still being in high school, Beth was only coming for the experience and to help with some of the more basic tasks. All the same, she had been dreaming of this day for weeks. The chance to see Mossflower, being the daughter of a university history professor, Mossflower history was everywhere in the house. Her father's office was filled with books and posters on the subject. He had even given her the middle name of Songbreeze after one of Redwall's Abbesses. And now, she was going to see it all.