The hares converse before turning in for the night, and Judd and The Shadow chat. Both parts seem irrevelant to the story at a first glance, but just about all of it will pop up again later in the story, and most of it is important. So, not entirely a filler chapter in that regard. Anyway, enjoy.
Chapter 11
The shrews brought the raft in to shore as night fell and wait for morning before continuing onward. Wootiberg objected, wanting to get to Redwall Abbey as quickly was possible, and was worried that by stopping for the night would delay them for too long, and not get there and have enough time to prepare themselves and the abbey for the threat of attack from the encroaching vermin horde.
But Flugg refused, saying that the Guosim wouldn't dare to try sail upriver at night, when River Moss was at it's fullest and wildest all year, and when the chance of running into an obstacle was at it's highest as well. And, of course, the Guosim was always right when it came to such matters, so the argument quickly died after that.
So they came ashore, anchored the raft, and settled in for the night, building fires to cook meals and to gather around and chat with. As dinner was being served, and everyone was gathering their food, Wootiberg mentally tracked down each and everyone of his party. It was relatively easy, for they were all grouped together, except for Mark, who was lying down some distance away.
Wootiberg went over to where he lay, and saw that Mark was still seasick, but it had reduced some. He didn't look so green anymore, and furthermore, he seemed more at rest. The shrew, Tulse, was watching over the ill hare while idly eating at the same time.
"Hello Mark." Wootiberg said as he approached.
Mark, who had his eyes closed at the moment, opened them to look up at the colonel. "Hello sah." Mark replied, his voice sounding froggy.
"How are you feelin'?" Wootiberg asked.
"Like somethin' is doin' a tap dance in me guts, sah." Mark replied, closing his eyes again.
Wootiberg frowned and glanced questioningly at Tulse, who was listening.
"That's normal." she assured the colonel, completely unconcerned. "Trust me, all he's feelin' now is me medicine doin' it's thing. He'll be right as rain in th' mornin'. Mind, he'll probably'll 'ave t' take a few trips to th' woods between now an' then, if yeh catch my drift."
Wootiberg thought all of that through again in his mind, and decided to just sum it up for Mark. "You'll be fine, Mark." he promised, and then left to go join the other hares.
They had all gathered around their own campfire, away from the other shrews, who had begun to argue over which waterway was the most challenging (and thereby the most entertaining) to sail was.
Violet had been preparing mint tea in a borrowed tea pot, and was now pouring the heated beverage into her cup while the others watched as Wootiberg arrived and sat down.
"Y'know Violet, we've got other things you can drink." Kislee pointed out, as Violet sipped her tea.
"Yeah," Freeman agreed, lifting up the cup of liquid the shrews had given him as an example, "Like this stuff that they call...er...er..." he trailed off, peering into his cup at the no-doubt alcoholic drink, "Well, I don't know wot they call it, but it tastes good."
Violet gave a dry laugh. "No, thank you." she said, sipping her tea. "I'll just stick to my tea."
"So," Wootiberg said as he started eating his own dinner. "Wot else are we talkin' about?"
"Well, I was going to ask how Kislee got her name." Freeman offered. "I've been wonderin' since this trip began."
"Simple, really." Kislee replied. "It was my great-grandmother's name. Wot I don't know is how I got my middle name, 'cause it's a bit odder than my first name."
"Why, wot's your full name?" Freeman asked.
"Kislee Marmalade Lewis." Kislee replied, sipping her own drink.
Freeman and Violet burst out laughing.
"Your middle name is marmalade?" Violet asked, bewildered.
"It ain't that bad." Wootiberg interrupted. "My middle name is jam."
"Jam?" Freeman repeated with a grin.
"Uh-huh. Peter Jam Wootiberg." the colonel replied. "Apparently my parents both liked jam, so that's wot they made my middle name."
"Wot's your full name Freeman?" Violet asked.
"Nothin' special." Freeman replied. "Just Freeman John Juniper Smith. John is my father's name, and Juniper was my grandfather's name. I got the name "Freeman" due to a misunderstandin'. See, me mum had asked my father wot t' name me. My father, who had been thinking of other things an' wasn't listenin', replied with somethin' that sounded like t' me mum like "freeman." So that became my name."
"Wot about you, Violet? Wot's your name?" Kislee asked, enjoying this conversation.
Violet suddenly hesitated. "Violet the Violent." she replied, and quickly finished her tea in one gulp, so that she couldn't immediately reply.
"That's not your full bloomin' name, that's a flippin' nickname." Freeman pointed out, annoyed.
"Who asked you?" Violet asked, her temper starting to flare, with no apparent reason.
"C'mon, Violet, just tell us your full name." Wootiberg said, being the mediator. "It can't be that bad, can it?"
Violet made a look that said differently, but answered, mumbling the reply as if hoping this would satisfy the others.
Freeman, however, had excellent hearing, and tilted his ears to hear Violet's mumbling clearer. "Violet...Columbine...Agnes..." he said aloud for the others to hear.
"Look, I don't want to say, all right?" Violet said angrily. "I'm entitled, aren't I?"
"You certainly are." Wootiberg agreed. "An' if you don't want to say, we won't press it."
Gooding, who had been silent during this conversation, finally spoke up. "Y'know colonel," he began, looking at the rising moon. "If we want an early start tomorrow, we should go to sleep now."
"Right y'are lieutenant." Wootiberg agreed. "So off t' bed, the lot of you. No complain' Freeman, you know time to reach Redwall is short. Don't want t' get there and find it overrun with vermin already, wot-wot?"
The building of boats to sail upriver was progressing well for the vermin horde. Some grumbled about having to do the work, and wondered that if the plan was to sail upriver the whole time, why hadn't the boats been built beforehand? But then the captains all pointed out that the boats still would've have to have been built sometime, and building them beforehand meant that the boats would have to be carried to the river, thus creating more work.
Naturally, after that point, all of the arguments quickly dried up.
Judd stood watching the troops work semi-silently, listening to the sawing, the pounding, the carving, and the whispering of those who thought Judd couldn't hear them chat. Normally, Judd would crack down on such behavior, prove those creatures that they were wrong, but was feeling lenient today, and was letting it slide.
Unlike the other captains in the horde, Judd was a bit of a loner, staying away from Vimzey and Rigg unless the situation demanded it. Of the three captains, Judd was also the smartest and cleverest, an attribute of his species, as well as quiet and withdrawn, but powerful when it came to giving commands. Usually he didn't have to say something twice in order to get it done. No one dared defy Judd very often, and those who did usually thought twice before doing it again.
If they lived that long.
Judd was also special, because there were few other foxes in the horde, and out of all of them, Judd and Jaydee were the only foxes with any kind of real power in the horde, Judd's outweighing Jaydee's, obviously. Regardless, Judd associated with all of the other foxes for various things, minus Jaydee, who he made clear from the beginning that he did not like.
Jaydee, in his opinion, wasn't a real fox because of her dark grey, patched, coat of fur. Unlike all of the other foxes, which had thick, red, fur, Jaydee's was much thinner due to her southern origins, and seemed to blend in with it's surroundings better. While this was quite an advantage on Jaydee's part, Judd viewed it as unnatural, and thus saw Jaydee as unnatural.
If it were up to Judd, Jaydee would have been cast out of the horde long ago, but the horde's leader thought otherwise. The Shadow apparently had some kind of liking for Jaydee, for she was still here, and Jaydee was also the only healer in the horde skilled enough and trusted enough to help The Shadow heal from his mysterious wounds and reach his full potential once again.
And that, of course, mattered most.
There was no questioning that Jaydee was skilled at what she did either, for the results were already starting to show. The Shadow had been seen moving about more under his own power, and the leader was planning more than usual. Tonight he had been talking with each of his captains individually, starting with Vimzey. Rigg then followed, leaving Judd for last. Judd did not mind, it gave him time to ponder what would be wanted from him.
That among other things.
Finally, Rigg arrived with a message. "His supreme lordship wants ya in his tent." he said in his usual accent.
But it lacked it's usual carefree attitude. In fact, Rigg seemed slightly on edge, a fact Judd quickly filed away, keeping it nearby in his brain should he need to call upon it soon.
And he suspected he would.
He gave Rigg an acknowledgment that he understood, and walked off for The Shadow's tent. Upon entering, he found his leader sitting in a chair, the cloak of his hood, as usual, hiding his face.
But not even Judd was quite ready for what happened next.
"Judd." the leader spoke to his captain for the first time in a gravelly whisper. "Good evening."
Judd's face belied no visible emotion, remaining stoical, but inwardly he was gaping at his leader. Since when did he talk? But just as quickly as he thought the question, he had the answer.
"Jaydee's medicine." Judd said aloud.
"Very good." The Shadow said approvingly, then coughed, wincing. It seemed talking still pained him to do. "Her medicine has been working quite well."
"Yes, it's healed your voice." Judd said.
"Healing, Judd." The Shadow corrected. "Not there yet."
Judd stood silently for a moment. "You wanted me for something, lord?" he finally asked.
The leader nodded. "You know where we're going, correct?" he rasped.
"Mossflower." Judd replied automatically. "Everyone knows that."
"Where exactly in Mossflower?" The Shadow asked.
Judd shrugged. "Dunno," he said. "But I am presuming that you do."
Even though the hood covered his face, Judd could see that the leader was smiling.
"That I do." The Shadow said, then added, "We will eventually arrive at a place called Redwall Abbey. Heard of it?"
Judd thought for a moment. "I do not think so." the fox replied.
"It is an abbey that advocates peace, safety, friendliness, and happiness." the leader replied. "But once we arrive there, that will be the very last thing it will have."
Judd frowned. "But why?" he asked. "I fail to see why we should attack this place, unless there's some personal profit for us in it."
"There is profit in it." the leader replied. "But for only one of the creatures in this horde."
"Who?" Judd asked.
"Me." the leader replied. "I have a score to settle with Redwall..."