A/N: Well, this is the last full-length chapter before the epilogue. Enjoy.

Chapter 10

And so the days turned into weeks and before she new it Kinliv found herself on the battle's eve. She was not in the best of conditions. True the troops were ready, two weeks hard training had accounted for that, but she was more depressed than she had ever been in her life and because of something as stupid as love. She was sure that if she had ever known her mother she would have warned her of the dangers of such an emotion, but no, Kinliv had to go and find out for herself.

Kinliv and Rowan hadn't talked much over the past fortnight; she too swallowed in sorrow to bring her self to speak to the one causing her such agony and he preferring to engage in other activities with Farah. Ever time she saw him now he was kissing the other squirrel with varying degrees of intensity. She tried to hide her pain behind a mask of indifference, but she knew it wasn't working, she was slowly falling deeper and deeper into a seemingly endless void as Farah and Rowan fell deeper and deeper in love. It hurt.

Despite her conversation with Kenafon, Kinliv had begun to cut again. Small wounds littered her already scarred arms, some straight and others, the ones she had inflicted while intoxicated, jagged. She now sat huddled against the stone corner of her room, shivering with a knife against her forearm. She pressed the blade into her flesh and drew it slowly sideways. A perfectly straight trail of red liquid followed the knife, she was sober. Though she cut deeply she was long past the stages of actually feeling pain. She wasn't even quite sure why she continued to inflict injuries on herself, just that it was something stable, something constant in this insane world in which she dwelt. It was something she actually had control over.

The cause of such self-injury became apparent as the voices of Rowan and Farah drifted through her open window carried in by the night breeze.

"I love you, Rowan."

"I love you too."

Silence. Pain erupted in Kinliv's heart. More blood shown on previously intact skin.

"Tomorrow if I die…" Farah's voice.

"You won't."

"But if I do…"

"I'll never forget you."

"If I die, promise me you'll go on living."

"I couldn't, I'm nothing without you."

"Promise me."

"I can't."

"You say you love me. If you truly do you will promise me this one thing."

Silence, then finally, "I promise."

"Good."

Silence. Kinliv sank to the floor, her own blood staining the stone beneath her. She shook like the last leaf of autumn clinging in vain to a bare limb in the middle of a gale. For how long she lay like this, she hadn't the slightest inclination. It felt like days passed, years even, and then suddenly, with a few more sentences, the pain eased.

"It's late." Rowan.

"True, and tomorrow may be the day of reckoning."

"It will be fine."

"I love you."

Silence.

"Where are you going." Farah.

"I'm going to sit by the Sword of Martin for a bit. I find it calming."

"Goodnight then."

"Goodnight"

Kinliv crept silently into her bed, pulling the sleeve of her shirt over her wounded arm, carefully wrapped so not to stain the sheets. Minutes passed, but Kinliv waited as though she had all the time in the world. She now knew what she must do. The creaking of hinges and a shaft of light signified Farah's entrance. Assuming her roommate was asleep, the squirrel undressed silently, changing into a silken nightgown, before entering her own bed. Soon the sound of steady breathing came from the bed next to Kinliv's. It was time.

Like a fleeting shadow in the night, Kinliv emerged from the sheets and slipped through the door which Farah had left slightly ajar. Leather boots padded softly down the stairs, Kinliv had made no effort to undress. She entered the Hall slowly, almost cautiously, this was the last time she could turn back, but she knew deep in her heart that that time had long since passed. He stood there, motionless, all attention on the tapestry before him and in that moment Kinliv knew for sure. This indeed was the creature she had fallen in love with. He did not look up as she approached him, his eyes riveted to the woven figure. She walked up next to him, close enough that their shoulders brushed together.

He looked at her and she felt as if those deep endless eyes were penetrating her very soul. She gazed into them, entranced. "Hey." He spoke softly.

"Hello." She responded, still not averting her eyes from his.

"What brings you down here so late?"

"I came to see you."

If he was expecting a different answer he didn't show it. He merely nodded, thoughtfully.

"I do not see you much any more." At this point all honorific titles were gone, she was comfortable with him, relaxed.

He shrugged, "I've been busy. So have you."

She nodded, "Ready for the battle?"

"As I'll ever be. You?"

"Same."

"Such is the way of the warrior." He grinned. "But you did not come to talk of the trivial matters of war."

"No, I did not." His silence bid her to continue. She turned to face him. "Rowan, I…I love you."

His eyes shot downward and he murmured, "I know."

"You do?" she asked, confused.

"I knew from the moment I met you that you would fall in love with me. I could see it in your eyes. It's a talent I've always had, reading creatures emotions." He let out a short laugh that contained to mirth. "I tried to love you back and at one point I think I might have, but then I met Farah…" He looked up, staring into her, and she was surprised to see that his eyes shown bright with unshed tears. His voice shook as it grew louder, "I wish it didn't have to be like this but, Kinliv, I love her!"

Suddenly they were both crying. Bitter tears ran down Kinliv's face as she embraced him and realized the biting truth: maybe in another time, another world, he would love her, but not here, not now. He never could. He held her tightly to him, feeling her heart beat against his chest as the same truth ran through his mind. He cried openly for all that should be, but never would be, never could be. All he could do was repeat the words that condemned her soul again and again, "I love her, Kinliv, I love her. I love her…" They stood there, tears mingling and suddenly he was kissing her. It was not a passionate kiss, containing no romance, it was instead filled with hope, hope for what could never happen, like a broken wish forever doomed to dwell with the cold uncaring stars. She kissed him back, wanting, wanting what she could never have, trying in vain to make the moment last for an eternity.

Then the moment was broken. They let go of each other, faces still shining with the tears that had fallen, eyes bright with those it would be pointless to shed. She turned to go, walking as far as the entrance to the hall, before turning back.

"Goodnight."

"Goodnight." He replied.

"I love you." And with that she was gone.

He stood there, lost. With one last trace of hope he glanced at the picture of Martin, then shook his head and headed off to his own room. So much left unsaid.

The morning of the battle dawned cold and gloomy. A thick layer of clouds obscured the sky, blocking out the sun until it was just a lighter patch amid the mass of gray. Eight hundred beasts stood out in front of the Abbey, all perfectly to attention. Before them stood the leaders, Keemin Tae, Calimb, Kenafon, The Major, Corydalis, Rowan, Faraheos and Kinliv. There was no need for any speeches, the Abbot had already bid them farewell and all creatures knew what they must do. They began to march, away from the practically non-existent sun.

Soon the wooded hill loomed into existence. Quickly they situated themselves among the trees, scouts had reported that Radin's troops should arrive sometime in the evening. Kinliv sat with Kenafon, telling her friend of the previous nights events. He listened and that's all she asked for.

Morning dwindled into afternoon. The restless creatures found ways of amusing themselves with trivial sports and pass times. At one end of the hill an archery contest was going on. Not surprisingly, Farah won, receiving a plain necklace adorned by only a small copper medallion in the shape a sun. She gave the trinket to Rowan along with a kiss.

All too soon, creatures were shouting for the campfires to be put out. Radin's army was approaching. Kinliv's heart sped up as the thunderous sound of marching beasts reached her ears. She saw dots of light flicker into existence, a sign that the army below them was pitching camp. Farah sidled up next to her.

"Are you nervous?" the other squirrel asked.

"As always."

"Me too."

Kinliv grunted.

"I know what you did last night." Farah continued.

Kinliv only shrugged.

"So everything has been settled?"

"Now is not the time or place to discuss this." Kinliv responded, monotone in place.

"You're right. I'm sorry."

Out of the corner of her eye Kinliv saw Rowan approaching the two squirrels. She hastily excused herself and walked off, staring at the loam covered earth. She spent the rest of the evening occupying herself with small menial tasks such as polishing and sharpening her rapier. A nervous energy had come over her, an energy built of the desire for battle. The familiar feeling had driven all thoughts of Farah, Rowan and love in general out of her head. Tonight the land would run red with rivers of blood.

Finally, Keem came up to the war-minded squirrel.

"Time to go, orders are about to be delivered."

Kinliv nodded, "Good luck tonight, thou shall defeat thy foe."

Keem smiled grimly, "Thank ye, I plan on it!"

The major gave out instructions. Redwallers, Long Patrol and Otters would go to the left, shrews to the right, and archers would remain on the hill, advancing straight downward. Below them one thousand beasts stopped, unaware that they were being watched, and began to set up camp. Within minutes small pinpoints of light began to wink into existence. The sun was setting before them, it did not impair the warriors' sight for the clouds had not thinned all day. A light drizzle began to fall.

Eight hundred soldiers tensed, waiting for the signal. A shrill whistle ripped through the watery air and all hell broke loose. Creatures poured down either slope, surrounding the camp as arrows rained down from above. Radin's army was caught off guard, but not for long. The warlord was soon among them, shouting orders with calm clarity.

Kinliv was back to back with Farah who had forsaken her bow in order to be able to fight alongside Rowan. She held a dirk in one paw and a buckler in the other. Blood splattered across Kinliv's war tunic as she tore open the chest of the creature in front of her with deadly accuracy. Off to her left Kinliv could see Kenafon and Calimb fighting gallantly, though about to be overwhelmed. Kinliv fought her way over to them, but it was too late, Calimb had gone down, a stoat's dagger lodged in his chest. Kinliv held off the attackers as the shrew leader spent his last few moments with a sobbing Kenafon.

"Don't cry now, there you go. You have to keep fighting, for me, for the clan. Take care of them, the Avaborit, you're their leader now, doncha know?" With a final shuddering breath the valiant shrew departed. Kenafon rose with a shout of sorrow and rage, striking about madly with his claymore as he slaughtered beasts left and right.

The battle was not going well, Radin's troops seriously outnumbered the woodlanders and it was apparent that if they did not act soon they would be engulfed by vermin. Kill Radin. The thought shot through Kinliv's mind and she began to fight her way over to where the stoat was leading his army from the back. The same though had obviously entered Farah's mind as well, for she too was fighting her way towards the warlord, but, unlike Kinliv, she was almost upon him.

Scalding white lightning tore a gash in the sky, illuminating the silhouette of Farah and Radin, now locked in deadly combat. Farah was breathing heavily, she was not used to such brutal fighting, but still she fought on matching the albino stoat blow for blow. Radin was happy; the battle was going in his favor. Now if he could just get this bloody squirrel out of his way he could continue his conquest. He grinned as he sliced of a hunk of flesh from Farah's shoulder, a grin that quickly changed to a snarl of pain as she hit his damaged paw with the flat of her blade. His limb had never truly healed from the wound Keem had inflicted upon it.

On they battled, neither of the warriors giving in until Farah took a step backwards. Her footpaw landed wrong in the middle of a pool of blood and she lost her balance. As though in slow motion she fell, the ground rising up to meet her. Radin let out a cry of victory and plunged his sword downward. In that very moment, four heads snapped upward and a gruesome and terrible met four pairs of eyes. Radin's blade plunged deep into Farah's chest. Her eyes grew wide for a second, and then began to glaze over. She whispered something that was carried on the wind, "I love you, Rowan, I will always love you…" Her breath faltered then stopped as blood began to bubble out of her still open mouth. Thus died Faraheos of Baeown.

Keem, Kinliv, Kenafon and Rowan had all witnessed this horrible spectacle, the latter of which letting out an agonizing scream as though it was his own heart that had been pierced. He rushed forward, a wild fire burning in his eyes. Radin merely flourished his pommel stone in an intricate pattern, hitting Rowan in the skull with numbing force. The young squirrel hit the ground with a thud, unconscious. The rain fell harder, pounding on the battle below. Kinliv charged toward the murderous warlord, fully intending to kill him, but Keem beat her to him.

Keem pointed that wonderful sword directly at Radin and spoke in a voice as cold as the Northland wind, "We meet again, stoat. Do ye remember me?"

Memories, vivid and crisp rushed through the warlord's brain and he snarled, "Aye, I do. I failed to kill you once; I won't make the same mistake again." With that he lunged forward, blade directed at Keem. Keem parried coolly, stepping to the side as his foe lurched past him. Radin whirled around; teeth bared, and made a downward slash. The young mouse blocked and twirled his sword, slicing off the stoat's pure white paw. Radin screamed, blood spurting out of the severed veins.

"Now I've finished the first job I started." The mouse said grimly, before making a sideways slash into the vile warlord's neck, "And now I've finished the second." His icy eyes stared down at the carcass of the foe that he had sworn to defeat. His vow had been fulfilled.

Kinliv and Kenafon approached the victorious mouse. Around them vermin were realizing their cruel leader was dead and began to surrender, all will to fight was lost. Kinliv bent down and held a paw to Rowan's neck, feeling for a pulse, "He's still alive." She said shortly, unemotionally. Inside her a whirl of feelings threatened to burst from her, but she showed none of it. The light of battle had faded from Kenafon's eyes. He simply stood there, weeping for his dead father. Keem had a far off look on his face, he could only stand and wonder what he would do with his life now that it was all over.

All about the cheers of the victorious soldiers were drown out by the sorrows raging with in. They had all lost so much in what now seemed like such an insignificant victory. A cold heartless wind suddenly tore through the air causing a lonely tattered pendant to flap above them. It displayed a sword slicing through a heart on a field of crimson, a color that matched the streams that ran beneath it.