Bat Mountpit, Memories of Castle Floret

"Run! They're here!" shouted Truffen XII. The squirrelking was bleeding from a dozen wounds, but still fighting, until a sword pierced him through the heart. The noble king fell to the stone floor, fighting to the end.

"Papa!" wailed Mina, who was only three seasons old, as she was carried away from the mêlée by her nanny, Yulana.

"To Eric's-"

The queen fell short, an arrow through her throat. A rat holding a bow laughed wickedly.

Triana fell to the ground, trying to get to the tunnels, a rock hit her head. Regulon ran to protect her, swinging his sword. The vermin came in force, slaying both of them.

Viola slashed with her katana, but a ferret disarmed her and sliced at her neck.

Father, dead. Mother, dead. Triana, Regulon, dead.

He felt the strong paws of a weasel called Scumtoes shove him to the ground.

Darkblood, Tharius's old friend, was standing over him. "He wants this one alive, but injure him as much as you want!" the rat called. He swung his sabre, scarring his face.

"Tharius!" called Truffen XIII. The squirrel pierced Darkblood in the shoulder. The black rat ran, and Truffen stayed, bravely defending his fallen brother, taking out a score of vermin before going down to a sabre.

Silvertung's sabre.

Darkblood had gone for easier prey. He stabbed Yulana in the throat, and the nanny fell to the ground. Crazed laughing erupted from the black rat as he picked up the young Mina and smashed her delicate skull against the ground.

"NO!" shouted Tharius, struggling under Silvertung's footpaw. The fox grinned and spat at his face.

"Coldfur, Zäev, bind him. And be as rough as you can."

oooooooooooo

Valley of Arostiv

Tharius sat on the grass, breathing deeply.

"Are we supposed do what you're doing?" asked Bluenose.

Tharius chuckled. "Yes, it's supposed to relax you, at least that's what my mum allus said."

"Ah."

The three vermin sat on the grass and began copying the squirrel. After a few minutes, Tharius asked, "Better?"

Deadeye answered. "Ummmm… Does it count if I no longer wish for everybody to die?"

The other three laughed rambunctiously.

"Hey, it works!" called Vafïr. "Deadeye's right! I no longer wish for everybody to die!"

Laughter continued.

"Well, three vermin and a squirrel, never thought I'd see the likes of that before," came a quiet voice.

The three vermin and a squirrel turned quickly to see an aged hedgehog with a beard and ice-blue eyes observing them. He held a tall staff in his left paw. "Though I did predict something like it."

"Hmmm?" asked Tharius quizzically. "You're not going to run around trying to beat us with yon stick? I mean, it's happened before."

The hedgehog shook his spiked head. "Nay. I know your motives, young one. I listen... and I understand."

"You've been-"

"Nay, I was not eavesdropping upon you. But those I listen to-" He waved his paw far across the sky- "Know all."

And with that, the hedgehog walked away.

The friends shook their heads. "Well," said Bluenose. "He's mysterious."

They chuckled.

ooooooooooooooooo

Southern Mossflower

"Bluenose! Run!" shouted Deadeye.

The weasel was shivering in place. Four adders were slithering through the camp, snapping at the friends. Tharius and Vafír had their swords out, and Deadeye aiming his bow. Bluenose was standing still, a paw on his dagger, fear on his face.

Deadeye pierced a speeding adder with his arrow. The green snake stopped abruptly, not to slither again. Vafír and Tharius took an adder together, slashing it to death. Deadeye shot another arrow, catching a red one at its neck.

The last one, pure black, shot at Bluenose. White fangs glistening it prepared to strike.

Biting his lip and closing his eyes, Bluenose pulled his dagger out of its sheath and stabbed the adder's jaw. The blacksnake went limp and the weasel dropped his dagger. He fell to the ground, and the others went to help him.

"Wot 'appened?" asked Deadeye.

Bluenose shook his head. "When I was young my parents were killed by snakes like them. I just can't stand them. I freeze, even at a grass snake. But since that fight, I think my phobia's gone. And I feel like..."

"What?" they all asked.

"I'm free..."

oooooooooooo

Castle Floret

"Yaharr! I'm the dread pirate Coldeyes!" shouted Tharius under his weasel disguise.

His mother, pregnant with Mina, laughed. "Not bad. You did a good job."

Truffen XIII laughed. "Aye. His classes with Caro certainly paid off."

Caro was an old mole that was a master when it came to disguises. Tharius took his disguise classes, though his siblings all chose classes of diplomacy

"Oh jeez!" called Viola, walking into the room. "I thought you were a weasel, Tharius. Caro certainly did a good job."

"Thanks, but I only can do a weasel. And maybe a stoat if I spend a good bit more time.

"Ah. So what will you plan to do with your new talents?"

Tharius chuckled.

ooooooooooooo

More Memories came to Tharius. Good, bad, he remembered.

"Tharius? Tharius, what happened?"

The squirrel blinked a few times. "What? What just? Huh?"

His vision focused and he saw Rockwing, Whitefur, Anera, Hurqu, Aar Krullen, Amamo, and Brockhammer looking down at him.

"You just... fainted... after I asked you if you were-"

"Yes! I remember! I remember everything. And Vafír will die!"

"Tharius..." began Hurqu. "What's-"

The squirrel leaped from his bed and began running from them. "You will die, Silvertung! I will find you!"

The massive form of Nightshadow landed in front of Tharius, blocking him from leaping into the High Cavern. "Go back, tree-jumper. You cannot fly. Stripedog, take him to his bed."

Obediently, Brockhammer easily lifted Tharius and dropped him in the bed. "Tharius, tell us what's going on," asked the badger.

The squirrel bared his fangs. "Not until Silvertung is buried deep beneath the earth. Let me go, stripedog!"

The badger shook his head. "How will we convince you?"

"I have an idea!" called Aar Krullen. "We'll talk about our past, then you tell us yours! My old mam allus did that!"

All the others gave him curious looks, but Aar Krullen was already going.

"I was born far, far in the south, you know. There was hardly any forests. Just great grasslands and deserts. Blazing hot, y'know. I was in a great tribe, and one of the best fighters. Along with being a smith, carpenter extraordinaire, and champion scoffer, I was also great with people, so I became captain-in-chief of our tribe. Jolly good position, y'know. Lots of vermin, though. I mean hundreds of the chaps in just a common band. So I had a pretty hefty position. But I was good at it.

"Then this big empire came. Right now I say they were from the south, but then I said they were far north. We weren't so worried.

"But in just half a season the empire had increased its power tenfold. We heard from some refugees of the Isle of Irgash it was coming here next.

"So we prepared. We became incredibly strong. Stronger than any tribe in the south. Refugees came to us and we trained them. Thousands of us were unbeatable fighters.

"Then in just a day we were defeated. Killed or put in slavery." Aar Krullen rubbed his eyes. "They thought I died, so I was left, bleeding to death. I slowly nursed myself back to health, and as soon as I was ready, I journeyed North, where I heard they were keeping my tribe as slaves. On my way I met Amamo, and then..."

"I'll take it from here," began the brash rabbit. "So I come from the east. Great place there. We killed all the vermin except the ones to put to slavery, so there's plenty of peace."

The others gave him a strange look.

"Everybody there is incredibly talented. I mean, we're all great smiths and fighters. But when everybody's great, then nobody's great. So I journeyed to the less talented west. There I made a fortune selling weapons. Returning from Salamandastron rich, I met Aar Krullen. We wandered aimlessly until we met Brockhammer, who insisted we return to Salamandastron. So we hiked all the way back to the Great South Stream, sailed it, got lost in the rapids, and now we're here. Brock?"

"Ah yes, I suppose it's my turn. My father, Brocksword Wildstripe, and my mother, Via Wildstripe, raised me in the east borderlands. My father was a minor lord there, we lived well. The northlands was lawless, but there isn't much real threats there." Brockhammer looked at the floor. "Then a disease came, from the south. A deadly thing. My parents were sending me to Salamandastron, but they were needed to help those who could not themselves. On my way I was informed that them and their entire province was killed."

"Wow, Brock. That's not what you told us at all," commented Amamo insensitively.

The badger glared at him, and Aar Krullen sighed. Amamo backed off to the corner, then asked, "What about you, Hurqu. None of us 'ave seen a goat before. Tell us your tale."

The shaggy goat smiled. "Ach, 'tis a braw tale. Ah guess I 'ave tae tell ye. Ah hail from the North Mountains. Och, I miss the place, lots of 'ares and mah tribe. Ah was the bonny son of yon chief, mah pater Rawnor. A bonny ole life we lived, great battles every day. Ah had great friends, all lads that could defeat all of ye combined. But ah yearned for more. So ah left the tribe in the good hooves oh mah younger brother, a braw laddie called Arro, and traveled through the mountains south.

"Ach, ah had some great adventures. I ate with The Wild King Bloodwing MacPhearsome and his proud Lairds. I fought the Crows of the North, and beat the laddies, tae. So ah traveled farther south, with an unquenchable lust for adventure. Ah bit off a bit more than I could chew though, when ah challenged all the Painted Ones to fight me. Ha! 'Twas great to see their faces."

The others laughed. "Anera, 'ow 'bout you?" asked Amamo.

The mousemaid smiled. "I was an orphan, but I hardly knew my parents. I was rescued by Redwall Abbey, where Abbess Fern raised. She wasn't happy with me going. Maybe she was right. I didn't last two second on those rapids."

The others laughed. "Aaaaaaand... your turn, Tharius. Go on," urged Aar Krullen.

Tharius grimaced. "I guess I should tell you..."