DISCLAIMER: Redwall is © Brian Jacques. All characters in this story are © me.

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Song of Beauty
a Redwall fanfiction by Sienna Revan
(sienna_revan@hotmail.com)


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Chapter One : A Distinction of Characters


Keilan Bloodpaw threaded noiselessly through the thick underbrush of Restal Woods. She was an expert at this, having accomplished her first real reconnaissance run at the age of five seasons. Twilight was well established, and there was just enough light to see what was immediately in front of her; the forest was awash in shadow, the greens faded to a dusky violet, her sharp bright turquoise eyes contrasting with her background. Pausing cautiously at the edge of a clearing she crouched low and strained to pick up a noise. Satisfied at hearing nothing out of the ordinary the ferret maid plunged on, skirting the clearing.

She was making her way over a patch of mud when her brain registered a flash of steel; blinking, she found herself at the business end of a sword.

Across the length of the weapon stood a tall young mouse, his eyes hard as diamond. He lifted the sword to Keilan's pulsing throat in a slow, threatening movement.

"I heard you coming," the mouse said matter-of-factly. He then swept his sword arm sideways in a sudden motion, felling a nearby sapling with nary a sound. "You're dead."

Keilan slumped backward, her face knotted with frustration, rubbing her throat as though he had indeed sliced it. "Ah, stuff it, cheesebreath," she mumbled, her voice dripping acid. "You just made a lucky guess I'd be here, that's all." She had known Matthew Stryfe for just two seasons: more time than she needed to warm up to the mouse. An odd distinction, considering a vermin-woodlander friendship in this day and age was virtually nonexistent. Now they were part of the same team, servicing the vermin horde Maksha; being the Chieftain Bloodpaw's daughter, Keilan played no small part in Stryfe's induction.

Keilan had had her doubts, of course, the present moment being one of them. He had somehow assumed the role of her instructor despite his specie, never missing the occasion to point out flaws in her performance. Though she resented her inferiority to him she took every opportunity to learn, yet preferably without an audience. If anything it was mostly her admiration for his raw skill that forged their friendship. He was indeed an unusual specimen, learned in the arts of both the sword and the staff; he was also a fine spy and thief, an expert in assuming virtual invisibility. She once described his abilities to include being able to snatch a tooth from a beast's maw without their noticing. She boasted about him to her friends (without his knowing of course), and any of her acquaintances to object to her and the mouse's camaraderie were subjected firsthand to Stryfe's fluency in combat.

Eventually the beasts of Maksha came to accept the preference of the Chieftain's daughter without question.

Now Stryfe returned a less than sincere smile, sheathing his sword into the scabbard strapped across his back. "You were lumbering, Kei. Like a drunken badger. Your bones were creaking loud enough to wake the dead."

Oh yes. She'd been his friend for two straight seasons, and there were times that she could not remember just why. The ferret maid's paws balled into fists, and from the look on her face it seemed that she was ready to deal the insolent rodent one across the nose. "Me bones?!" she spat, her fur bristling. "I must be deaf then, 'coz I didn't hear me bones."

"It's about high time you cleaned your ears," the mouse shrugged, looking bored. When she declined to answer he studied her for a silent moment. She was a golden-furred ferret just out of adolescence; thin pink slivers were clear on her bare arms, suggesting experience in battle. She was a pretty thing, with a smirking mouth and wide, vivid sea green eyes. Noticing his scrutiny Keilan flattened her ears, looking almost worried.

"Whatcha staring at, mouse?"

"Your eyes look a bit wild."

" 'course, because I'm the idiot ferret who decided to buddy up with a woodie."

"What's wrong." Stryfe gave her a look, one whose meaning she was positive was understood by only her. His flat, oh-so-Stryfey cut-the-crock look.

She pouted up at him. "It's really nothing ye need to know... but there's been another killing. Me father's ol' friend, this marten Efram Yggrias. 'E was slain not too long ago... they say it was Deadeyes."

Stryfe considered this new information, resting his chin on a fist. Deadeyes, huh. For weeks there had been nothing else the beasts of Maksha talked about.

Lady Deadeyes was a name attached to an almost supernatural being, a codename granted by a stricken witness to one of the killings, who had seen the dead emptiness in the killer's eyes as she played the end of her blade against someone's spine. No one quite knew who or what Lady Deadeyes was, but it was said for sure that she was a monster with limitless strength and cruelty. She murdered her victims in the most agonizing methods---among them, the badger Baron Dornquill of the city of Astrel, was pinned to the door of his bedchamber by a javelin through his ankles. He was hanging limply when his wife discovered him. Apparently he was alive---barely---but rendered immobile for Deadeyes had crushed the bones of his limbs one by one. And this had been the very least of her conquests...

Keilan stood, brushing past the mouse. "Let's go back and tell me dad. Tho' he won't be happy to hear about this bothersome Deadeyes again."





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Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed it. =) As always, feedback is greatly appreciated.

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NEXT CHAPTER : Things aren't so smooth between Stryfe and his fellow hordebeasts; the nature of the Maksha is revealed, as is that of their leader.

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