Authors Note: Okay... Well, basically, this will include some of the crap i forgot to put into the beginning of my last chapter. First of all, the Disclaimer. I do not own the Mossflower, Redwall, or anything else written about by the great author Brian Jacques. So please don't sue me, because i dont have any money. And when i get it, ill be saving up for car insurence.
But i DO own the characters i use and the countries of Jekaria and Alysia.
things bracketed by *'s are in italics (after figuring text files don't like HTML)
things bracketed by // are thoughts(even though i don't think there are any in this chapter...)
-------
"But sir..."
King Othmann whirled upon his general, eyes glinting with some inner malevelant light.
"Enough! My word is final."
Luka bit his lip and looked at the floor, not sure of what to say. The black-furred fox stood in front of his king like a babe caught with his paw in the cookie-jar.
"You WILL attack... and win this war." *No, I won't*, Luka thought to himself, forbidding himself from looking up. He knew that the blatent refusal would most likely cause his death. The Mad King of Jekaria was totally unpredictable in matters concerning orders and obeying. Othmann was one of those beasts you didn't cross; you would end up all the worse if you did. He had an air of forboding around him, radiating a sense that this was one to be feared. He was crazy... and if you didn't realize that soon enough, you were as good as dead.
The throne room they stood in was plain gray stone, though it wasn't visible most parts. One section of the floor higher than the other to house Othmann's throne. Wall hangings and tapestries shrouded the walls, carpets from some vaguely rich area covered the floor, enough so that Luka's boot made no sound in areas. The windows in the two-story-high room were situated to look out on some of the better views: the forest on one side, a river the other. Othmann's throne itself was intracately carved with a seat made of crimson velvet. A kind of dark brown wood was the actual chair, from some tree that only grew to the East... Alysia had once been an ally of some sorts, and allowed trade.
Luka had been trying to tell his King that the treaty was good... that they would find a peaceful settlement for the border despute once it was signed. No such luck. After the king's origional refusal, the war had started. Now, to avoid further blood letting, the Jekarian General, Luka Darkwind, had been elected by his army's captains to try again. All of them were positive that the Alysians didn't want war either, and they would surely reconsider if they could convince Othmann.
"Go back to your troops, general." Nodding once, Luka turned to leave. His king watched him go, making sure the door was closed to leave him in privacy.
Walking to the barracks, Luka thought of the conversation he had just had. He would attack... if he didn't he knew the king would punish him. For such a little offense, there was much to be scared of.
He switched his trian of thought to stratagies. He knew that the Alysians camped near the Coldran River to the South. If he used the waterway to his advantage, they might win that battle also. Attacking from the front would let them leave off protecting their backs, as the river took care of that for them. If he split his army in half, though-- Not looking where he was going, he ran into someone.
"Hey!"
Recovering from his initial startlement, Luka gave a small smile.
"Hello you two." Ashi and Talat started to say something, then remembered Luka was their superior. Giving a hasty salute, they stood up straiter. Giving an inward sigh, Luka's smile faded. Everybeast on the army always gave him this respect. It was annoying the hell out of him.
"Must you do that every time?"
Talat looked uncertain. "General?"
Luka shook his head, sighed again. If they were always being saluted to, being treated so formally, they would know. His rank was one that was well respected, but he would give anything to trade places with one of his soldiers. Being general made it impossible for him to make friends with the troops. It seemed as though they thought that if they didn't show him the 'proper respect,' he would send them to jail.
Luka looked them over and walked past them.
"Go back to the barracks. We attack two days hence."
Ashi watched Luka walk away, then looked at Talat. Apparently, he had been right about there being a battle... but which side starting it he had had a fifty-percent chace at getting right.
And he was wrong.
But i DO own the characters i use and the countries of Jekaria and Alysia.
things bracketed by *'s are in italics (after figuring text files don't like HTML)
things bracketed by // are thoughts(even though i don't think there are any in this chapter...)
-------
"But sir..."
King Othmann whirled upon his general, eyes glinting with some inner malevelant light.
"Enough! My word is final."
Luka bit his lip and looked at the floor, not sure of what to say. The black-furred fox stood in front of his king like a babe caught with his paw in the cookie-jar.
"You WILL attack... and win this war." *No, I won't*, Luka thought to himself, forbidding himself from looking up. He knew that the blatent refusal would most likely cause his death. The Mad King of Jekaria was totally unpredictable in matters concerning orders and obeying. Othmann was one of those beasts you didn't cross; you would end up all the worse if you did. He had an air of forboding around him, radiating a sense that this was one to be feared. He was crazy... and if you didn't realize that soon enough, you were as good as dead.
The throne room they stood in was plain gray stone, though it wasn't visible most parts. One section of the floor higher than the other to house Othmann's throne. Wall hangings and tapestries shrouded the walls, carpets from some vaguely rich area covered the floor, enough so that Luka's boot made no sound in areas. The windows in the two-story-high room were situated to look out on some of the better views: the forest on one side, a river the other. Othmann's throne itself was intracately carved with a seat made of crimson velvet. A kind of dark brown wood was the actual chair, from some tree that only grew to the East... Alysia had once been an ally of some sorts, and allowed trade.
Luka had been trying to tell his King that the treaty was good... that they would find a peaceful settlement for the border despute once it was signed. No such luck. After the king's origional refusal, the war had started. Now, to avoid further blood letting, the Jekarian General, Luka Darkwind, had been elected by his army's captains to try again. All of them were positive that the Alysians didn't want war either, and they would surely reconsider if they could convince Othmann.
"Go back to your troops, general." Nodding once, Luka turned to leave. His king watched him go, making sure the door was closed to leave him in privacy.
Walking to the barracks, Luka thought of the conversation he had just had. He would attack... if he didn't he knew the king would punish him. For such a little offense, there was much to be scared of.
He switched his trian of thought to stratagies. He knew that the Alysians camped near the Coldran River to the South. If he used the waterway to his advantage, they might win that battle also. Attacking from the front would let them leave off protecting their backs, as the river took care of that for them. If he split his army in half, though-- Not looking where he was going, he ran into someone.
"Hey!"
Recovering from his initial startlement, Luka gave a small smile.
"Hello you two." Ashi and Talat started to say something, then remembered Luka was their superior. Giving a hasty salute, they stood up straiter. Giving an inward sigh, Luka's smile faded. Everybeast on the army always gave him this respect. It was annoying the hell out of him.
"Must you do that every time?"
Talat looked uncertain. "General?"
Luka shook his head, sighed again. If they were always being saluted to, being treated so formally, they would know. His rank was one that was well respected, but he would give anything to trade places with one of his soldiers. Being general made it impossible for him to make friends with the troops. It seemed as though they thought that if they didn't show him the 'proper respect,' he would send them to jail.
Luka looked them over and walked past them.
"Go back to the barracks. We attack two days hence."
Ashi watched Luka walk away, then looked at Talat. Apparently, he had been right about there being a battle... but which side starting it he had had a fifty-percent chace at getting right.
And he was wrong.
