20

Abbott Varrus asked for a history on every one of the suspects. However, it was much harder said than done, for there were no written documents on them. Elial the old fox, who had recovered from his injury, gave a detailed history of gruesome deeds that he done as a youth. It sickened Varrus at the spite this old creature bore.

Hal Copland gave an account of many seasons as a farmer. Before that he had been in a family of seven youngsters. Then, after a raid of cruel vermin, he was orphaned and had to look after his three sisters. His story was one of hard labour every day, and a tragic past. Varrus took note to it, but failed to see any connection to Slade, for Hal had never been to Redwall before, according to him.

Hella, Skipper's lady friend, gave a history full of blanks, for according to her, she did not remember much. Otters could sometimes be very unhelpful through their character.

The bank voles were also unhelpful in their histories, but it was out of defiance that they did not talk.

The strange black squirrel, who was named Elfwin, gave a very strange past. It was one of much bitterness and betrayal. She had been a wanderer for many seasons after her heartless father drove her to it. The father had originally been raised in Redwall, so that gave her a motive to attack a Redwaller, and a squirrel at that. To make it more interesting, she had been a mercenary, so she knew how to kill a creature.

Varrus was leaning towards Elfwin as the murderess, but he was still confused. Why would Elfwin kill Slade of all people? He had done her no harm, had he not?

He asked her the question, but she had shut her mouth and had not said anything.

Now Varrus returned to Adisa, desperate for another clue. He wanted to know who it was, for it was extremely irritating to interrogate that group of suspects.

Walking past the guards, Varrus opened the door and closed it behind him.

Adisa looked up, stared blankly for only the shortest moment, and shook his head, "Varrus, after only a day you are back to play this game."

Varrus glared at him, and spoke up, "I need another clue to this puzzle."

Adisa smiled, "Who do you think it is?"

Varrus paused, and then said, "Elfwin."

"The squirrel?' Adisa was somewhat amused, 'I don't even know why she was here at Redwall Abbey in the first place."

"She had a tooth that needed to be pulled,' Varrus answered, glad that he knew something the civet didn't, 'It was infected. Plus she wanted to stay for the night."

Adisa thought about it, and smiled, "This will definitely be worth the parole, won't it, Varrus?"

The old otter grimaced, "Just help me here."

Adisa thought about it again. Finally, he spoke, "Slade was bitten on the back of his neck?"

Varrus nodded, "It was more at the base of the neck."

"So, in the back as well?"

Varrus nodded again, "I suppose, yes."

Adisa began to chuckle, "Oh that is too easy! Are you certain this was incomprehensible for you?"

Varrus fumed inwardly, insulted by the civet's scorn.

Adisa tossed his head, "The stab in the back! Only they used a bite. Perhaps to show that it was a much more savage betrayal than any could have imagined."

Varrus was suddenly consumed by revelation. Elfwin had had a sore tooth, and Slade had been bitten in the back of the neck. A betrayal that was more savage than could be imagined... the betrayal of the parent against their own child. Elfwin had been despised and evicted by her father. All that Varrus needed now was the reason of why he and Slade were targeted by her.

He said nothing to Adisa. He wanted to keep this to himself for once. He hated being manipulated by this civet.

Adisa got up, and gave an ironic bow, "I would thank you for the parole, but we both know why I would not do such a thing." He walked out, as the guards had heard his voice, and assumed Varrus had allowed it.

Varrus, in question, was bowled over in fear of the past.

Another memory swam up from the depths...

He is a young child, spying on them. Father and Mother forbid it, but he is driven by fear and curiosity. Besides, his schoolmaster may be interested in it, for he has a great suspicion of their weird and dark ways.

He does it today, because he hears drumming. He almost did not hear it, for the drumming was soft.

He approaches a tent set as a spiralled coil. Inside are several of the creatures, drumming and whispering softly. He does not know the words, but he has an idea that they are kind words.

A female is in labour. Her baby comes, and she tries not to scream in order not to disturb the birthing ritual.

He stares at the crying little babe, disgusted.

They are ugly and despicable from the moment they enter the world.

"" "" "" "" "" "" "" ""

Roaveen was glad of the progress that the recruits had made. They were trying their best to improve, for he had shown them their reward.

The wooden swords were unbearably heavy to Leaflock and some of the others, and as they practiced, they felt their arms wear down through the day.

But after a while, some of the older ones commented that they were feeling it become easier. Roaveen did not know if that were true, or if they were stating that to boost the confidence of others, but either way, he approved.

Korari would often practice alongside them, for he too was training as a warrior. He would strain as he used the wooden gladium, but his character helped to make it more fun for those hares around him. He seemed to know every one of their names, and his words of encouragement were never absent.

Roaveen was aware of the influence that Korari commanded, and he did not like it. He had always enjoyed having his younger brother beneath him. In a way he still was, but he was inadvertently challenging him. At least, he thought it was inadvertently.

It so happened that Colonel Seahawk and Major Jackers were observing the hares as they trained.

"Those hares are getting along better than either of us thought when it bally well began, eh wot!"

Seahawk nodded, "Aye, old lad, so they are. Still, it's good to be wrong sometimes, wot."

"We were wrong, yes, but only partly, old bean. It ain't just Lord Roaveen bringing along the trainin'."

Jackers had brought up a point that was bothering Roaveen. He felt that his brother was supplanting him. As an older brother, Roaveen went wild at the thought of such an idea. As a commander, he felt the challenge, and wished to face it.

Seahawk looked at his old friend, his eyebrows raised at the implied message.

"Now there, major, are you implying that Roaveen needs 'is young brother to raise a regiment?"

Jackers shrugged, "It's flippin' true, Seahawk!"

Seahawk turned to look at the Mountain Regiment, "That Korari is a very talented badger. Roaveen has good potential, but that badger's just not right for the job. Too reckless, or a big temper, mayhaps: but I do wish that Thornback was still here. Korari doesn't stand a chance from his brother without Thorn."

"Fair enough. But at least there ain't no bally injuries on Kor's face, wot. Still, I miss Thornback as much as you, Seahawk."

Seahawk chuckled to himself, "You know, Jackers, in all the seasons of war, all the seasons of rising one step ahead of you, all the seasons of maintaining the officer ranks, you have never called me 'sah'."

Jackers smiled, reminiscing over the past, "The bally good old days."

Seahawk clapped a paw on Jackers' shoulder, "Come on, let's have a cup of tea in the mess hall! We'll play a nice game of chess while we're at it."

Jackers leaned back, "In all the seasons of war, all the seasons of knowing one another, all the flippin' seasons of playing games together, you have never realised how much I bally hate chess."

Seahawk grinned a grin that no one but Jackers could put on his face, "Aye, but it doesn't stop you playing, Jackers. You just truly want to bally beat me once before you die."

Jackers smiled fondly at his friend, and the two of them walked into the mountain.

The following chapter begins THREE WEEKS LATER