Sheilds and Stars
The Tale of the Stoat Uprising In Southsward
In the Tradition of Brian Jacques's Redwall Novels
Chapter 3
Light In The Window
The Captain of the Guard hustled along, urging his troops to begin canvassing the nearby streets and alleys for the three wanted beasts. Five otters went with him into the Market Square; others in groups of four or more dispersed along every way or lane they could find. The Captain cursed as he cast a glare down at the stony streets. If the roads were earthen he would have a sporting chance of tracking the three without these ridiculous troop measures. He was squandering precious resources by dispatching so many of his guard at once, sending them off on a wild goose chase when they could be aiding in keeping the peace between the Quarters. Or watching the walls. If any of his otters, squirrels or hares had been at the gate when the dangerous rat had entered none of this would have happened.
The squirrel Jargo was still sputtering, his ego completely destroyed by the experience of being bested by the terrifying beast. He kept murmuring about marble orbs and silver. He was obviously mad.
"Make room!" one of his otters growled, pushing aside a troublesome old weasel who refused to step aside for the squad of searchers. The weasel stumbled and fell into a basket of damsons, setting the booth's owner, a mouse, alight with fiery anger. The troop passed, ignoring the yelps of the gray-furred musteline as the mouse laid into him with a flyswatter.
The Captain spotted a reddish cloak adorning a small figure and lunged out, seizing the beast's garment in one sinewy paw. Dragging it upright, he was about to bark aloud in laughing triumph at his luck, but one look at the startled civilian's face proved just how difficult it would be to make out the three fugitives in the crowded bazaar. Sighing, the otter dropped the squirrel he had been holding and continued with muttered apologies.
Before too long it became clear that if the three were still in the area, they were not coming out to be found by the roving Guard. The Captain ordered the open-street search be stopped until further notice, and instigated a new tactic. Three guard apiece would demand entry into the buildings, banging loudly on the doors and stamping in officiously to search the nooks and crannies where the three vermin may be hiding out. An hour of this, the Captain reasoned, and even the vermin Quarters would be anxious to give up any sighting of the Guard's targets. Who knew how much contraband lay in the hidden places in any house of Rat or Fox Quarter... They would either turn in the three or be arrested themselves.
One of the younger hares on his squad voiced a timid concern; might this tactic, however clever, serve to alienate the vermin Quarters? It seemed wrong to barge into the townsfolks' homes and search through their belongings, even when done to vermin creatures. Would they not become sullen and refuse to aid the policing, protecting force?
"All in th' name o' justice, deputy," the Captain responded with a sniff. The Guard moved ahead with the plan, knocking on every door near Market Square and making great progress as the day wore on towards sunset.
Tallon was breathing heavily, though it was not from fatigue. A pair of guard otters had passed far too close to him for his liking, and now the three huddled on the opposite end of Market Square, trying to not be noticed among a loitering band of travelers who had no idea what was going on.
The otters moved off, towards the center of the bazaar. Findarr stood upright again, towering over the pair of mice he had chosen to hide amongst. Kyol stared out at the Market still, watching the otters and hares weaving in between the stalls and questioning every vender. It was obvious they were treating each clade differently even when the words were inaudible; a shaking, ominous paw here, directed at a trembling rat, but then a gentle coaxing bobbing of the head as the guard attempted to extract news from a haremaid. Kyol shook his head, wondering if he had fallen during his travels and was simply hallucinating the strange town.
"Come on, time to move!" Findarr whispered. The crowd of traveling creatures had grown bored of standing and speculating what all the guards' fuss was about, and thusly were dispersing to do their business. The two stoats and their rat shadow flitted towards a sidestreet. Kyol noted that they were heading south.
"Now entering Stoat Quarter." Tallon said, a grimace on his lips. Kyol eyed the nondescript sign announcing the same thing in small, beetle black ink. There was a marked change in the richness of this habitation-the plastered walls of the once fine tall homes were now somewhat cracked, chimney stacks were grimed from not being cleaned, and the streets were less maintained and deeply rutted in places. They passed an old cart being struggled along by an equally old creature, probably a stoat but really impossible to tell under the beast's flop hat and bushy beard.
However, at the end of the main road, stood one edifice that did not look at all like a dilapidated structure begging for the chance to collapse at the first puff of wind. It was Stoat House, the home of the Lady of Stoat Quarter. Tallon explained this to Kyol as they ran, flying past the reflecting pool where small killifish bobbed decoratively, watching all who passed with their huge flat eyes and devouring mosquito larvae. The rat warrior could never have imagined such a house; it was three normal stories like all the others, but a flourishing pair of small attic towers crested it magnificently. Arches hung on the structure as if ripe fruit, and broad sleek windows of the finest blue-tinged glass were laid in even rows, giving each room a shower of natural light. The stairs leading up to the main door were beautiful warm brown quartzite.
But the stoats were not leading him directly in. They dashed around the side, to what had to be a servants' entrance. Humble as it was meant to be, this door was still very finely-made and had had a deep rich stain applied to it.
"Get in, get in," Findarr said, peering back over his shoulder for signs of trouble following them. Kyol obeyed, though it was hard for him to take his eyes off the splendor of even the servant section of the place. The wall paneling was lovely and shone in the darkened interior. Candles were placed in elegant scones of bronze at even lengths. Everything spoke of poise and grandeur.
Swiftly rushing down the entry hallway they were met with a stoat servantmaid. She opened her mouth to scream but Findarr clamped her mouth shut with his paw. The much smaller creature could not break his grasp, for though he looked rather skinny he possessed all the sneaky strength one would expect of a performer.
"Quit it!" he said, wagging a paw in her face, "You know we aren't some rapscallions come in here, cut the act."
She did, with a sigh. Findarr released her from his hold and she immediately went to embrace Tallon. A bead of sweat dripping down his brow, the younger stoat returned the hug with some reluctance.
"Oh, it's only you," she said as she released the confused mustelid, "There was talk of two fellas doin' some rough business an'--who's that?"
Kyol shuffled and adjusted his cape's broochflaps. The stoatess's sudden attention to him did not raise his confidence in hiding here. Findarr cast his friend a glance and tapped the maiden on her shoulder.
"Ah, about that..."
Findarr had no need to finish his sentence. The stoatess's rapidly scrunching face was all they needed to see.
"You didn't!" she hissed, staring hard at Findarr. Now the tall slim stoat did not seem to crave her attention; he shrunk back so that even her tiny frame seemed to tower over him. "You two?! Hellsteeth!" she cursed as she turned to Tallon, "You should know better! D'you even know him?!"
"Well, I don't think--" Tallon attempted.
"That's just it, then!" she snarled. Kyol took a step back, pulling his hood down a little further, "You don't ever think! And you!" she turned back to Findarr, who had just thought to straighten up again, "All yore brains an' you went along with it?! D'you want us all murdered in our beds?!"
"I'm sorry, Milady, this is my fault," Kyol stepped forward with a slight bow, sure to keep a comfortable distance between him and the distrustful servantmaid, "I never wished to involve these two youngsters. It should have been my duty to refuse their aid..."
Surprisingly, the stoatess brightened. She stepped towards the small rat, nearly as short as she, and carefully brushed powdery street mortar stains from his cape.
"Don't trouble yoreself, sir," she said, "Really you must have had no choice. 'Twas all th' fault of my two friends here. To be chased by th' Guard, all for a sword!" she blinked doe-eyed. "It sounds just awful. I'm sure Lady Juivira will understand and do all she can to right this mess..." she stopped suddenly, "Unless you... killed that squirrel guard..?"
Kyol was stunned by the speed news traveled in this town. Gathering his cloak about him, he shook his head.
"I don't kill anymore."
"Anymore?" Tallon gaped. Findarr stroked his chin at a furious speed. Kyol raised his paws disarmingly.
"Once, many seasons ago." he explained, "Never again."
"Well..." the female stoat placed her paws on hips, "I'd best speak to Her Grace about this before she gets the wrong ideas about harboring our... guest."
"'Twould be most prudent," Kyol agreed. She turned and opened a nearby door, which led to a spiraling stone staircase. Tallon called after her.
"Cesta," she turned, "Talk to me later?"
"Uh-huh, after a while." Findarr snorted lightly.
Kyol let a sigh escape through his nostrils as he wondered what sort of convoluted story he'd blundered into.
The Lady of Stoat House sipped a tall sleek glass of cherry blossom wine from her own personal vineyard from atop the high balcony overlooking the luscious garden south of the mansion. Trellis fences bordered the place, which shone with every color of flora thought possible, from quivering purple snapdragons to cheery yellow daisies and coneflowers. The setting sun lit the scene perfectly as Juivira watched a green-throated sapsucker-like bird building a nest in a fig tree with fine twigs and grasses.
Anticipating her most important meeting of the day, she gave a long sideways glance to the hare guard standing aloof on the far side of the balcony, charged with watching over her safety. As her silver-adorned ears picked up the sound of rustling from her garden she straightened up and gave a pained sigh.
The hare, as expected, turned and addressed her.
"Lady Juivira? Is there some way I may serve ya?"
"Nay, my good beast." she grimaced. "I feel a touch bothered, nothing more." she turned with a pleading smile, "Maybe I just need some time alone to think...How would you like a much-deserved break?"
"My Lady," the hare blushed and stuck out his chest, "'Tis my duty t' see you safe at th' end of th' day. I can't very well abandon it, wot?"
"Oh," the stoatess let her face fall, "Well, that's too bad." She suddenly brightened, taking hold of the bottle of exotic wine and dangling with one paw off to the side the hare stood on, "Then would you mind terribly disposing of this? It tires me..." She winked coyly.
Greed and gratefulness spreading across his face, the hare bowed and accepted the wine.
"I shall, M'Lady," he grinned, backing out through the broad open doors that led into the study. Juivira sighed, letting the mask of expression fall off her face.
"We're alone, Gonwar."
Portions of a beauteous lilac bush parted and a hulking figure clad in a loose homespun cloak rose from it. Throwing the garment aside, he revealed himself to be an otter. Not just any otter, however. A silver star stood out on his blue crossbelt.
"Finally," the Captain of Nuriem's Guard said. He vaulted powerfully up the decorative pillars holding up the balcony, "I've been wantin' to se ya all day."
"Me too," the stoatess smiled. The otter crouched beside her to be level with her seated figure. "Stress tends to heighten such desires."
"Juivira..." the otter laughed, "Why don't you drop the fancy speech, eh? Nobeast's watchin' us."
"I can't help it, Gonwar." she said, taking hold of his chunky paw. "Politics has left its ugly scar."
"Ugly? You? Never," he said. "Yore like one of those great black swans from the eastlands, or one o' yore own amaryllises."
"You flatter me," she chuckled, stroking the paw of the otter, "This relationship... It's a tad unacceptable, isn't it?" she cast her face downward. Captain Gonwar widened his eyes.
"What's got you on that all a sudden?"
"This business with the rat," she said, leaning over and allowing the otter to set a paw gently on her back. She looked up at him with a wince, "I can't stop thinking about what this all means."
"It means I have a job to do," the otter said. She shook her head.
"I meant what it means for us," she turned Gonwar's paw so that it was palm up, "There will be so much attention focused here very soon... Focused on us, perhaps."
"Nobeast knows about us." the otter assured her, "When it comes to secrets in this town, I hold all th' keys. Nobeast needs t' see an' nobeast will either." he grinned broadly, showing his sharp lutrine eyeteeth, "I promise."
"You great lump of an otter. I love you," she could not help but grin back.
"I love you too." The otter and stoatess embraced for more than one or two moments, defying the ideologues they shared their lives with. The green-throated bird arrived back at her distant nest carrying a cork, trying to fit it into her nest with mixed success.
*GASP* The plot thickens! What could possibly happen next?! Remember to review, even if it's negative!