Disclaimer: So many chapters and I still don't own any of this world save
my own characters!
A/N: I can't believe how close this has gotten to the end. This was the first story I posted and I had no idea that it'd be relatively popular! Thank you all! Let's see if we can break 50 reviews!!
Chapter 25: Last Resort
Sheede, Dar, and the band of freed slaves traveled along the Abbey wall, away from the bulk of the battle. The Silvercat ran ahead of everyone; she was focusing solely on finding the despicable canine. Finally she found him sheltered in the orchard, fighting off several young mice as easily as he would fight off so many yawns. Sheede swore to herself that she would shed a tear of every beast who died trying to end the tyranny that bound them. "DEATH!!" she roared. The anger, fury, and rage that were fueled into that call actually brought the battle to a stand still. Every beast held their weapons and turned to see the final confrontation between the two legendary leaders. Silence reigned over the Abbey and Lord Stonepaw and Phillet quickly formed a perimeter around the two combatants. Everyone waited for one of the two leaders to make their move.
Death locked eyes with the fearful wildcat before him. The blinding maelstrom of vengeance that had erupted from her only moments ago had all been withdrawn back into the Silvercat where it was focused to a deadly point. The wolf suppressed a shiver as they circled one another. Death suddenly noticed the sword strapped to her back and quickly wondered if that was the battered letter opener he'd thrown over the wall seasons ago. Why was it on her back? Surely it would be a moral booster for the slaves to see her wield it. Death's eyes lit with wicked delight, perhaps she was not skilled in the use of the sword! He called over to her in an overly genial tone, "What say we finish this like warriors? Sword against sword alone?"
Sheede had noticed that the temperature was dropping and she found it strange that she would notice such a small trivial thing when faced with this situation. She also found that her anger did not consume her; she was ready for battle in a sort of balanced clarity. She couldn't help but hide the sneer when Death called cheerily over to her. She appeared to think about his offer for a moment before finally replying. "Although you are no warrior, I accept the terms." And with that she easily threw her gauntlets to Phillet, who staggered under their surprising weight. She drew the Sword of Martin and smiled when she saw Death's expression of surprise intermixed with the surrounding gasps of shock.
Death worked to hide his surprise when he saw how beautiful the blade shown as she drew it. He was also dismayed to see her expert grip on the sword as she fell into a ready position. Death narrowed his eyes and tightened his own grip; he must make the first move. To not do so would cost him a lot of respect from his troops. He had never been bested with a sword and he would be damned if he started now!
Sheede easily dodged the wolf's first rush and followed it with one of her own. They were testing each other's abilities; and both were impressed. They soon fell in to a steady rhythm complimented by the harsh clangs of Death's blade and the clear ringing of Sheede's. While the two danced in deadly arcs, snow had begun to fall in Mossflower to herald the end of fall. It added an otherworldly effect to the heated battle.
Off to the side Phillet had drawn himself away from the sight and was leading a band of Abbey beasts to aid the wounded and move them inside. The young hare was impressed to see the young squirrelmaid who was consulted by her elders offer aid to friend and foe alike. It was good to see that even after being bound to slavery that the inherent generosity of the Abbey had not been lost.
Also away from the battle, Tyril led a group of hares and otters to form a second perimeter behind all of the troops to box Death's horde in. They also quietly instructed the rest of Sheede's army to move stealthily out of the two circles. Death's troops paid no attention to them.
Suddenly Death swung his sword in a high attack to finish the Silvercat and she blocked it with a swing of her own. She put so much force into the block that the wolf's sword shattered into several long shards. The impact shook Death violently and he fell to the ground. Sheede was instantly there to deliver the final blow when the treacherous wolf quickly leapt from the ground and drove one of the shards deed into Sheede's torso. A great cry went up from the crowd and Sheede was forced to her knees gasping. This wasn't right. Russano the Wise had granted her time; she would not die now!
Death had swaggered away and turned when he heard the roaring forces grow quiet again. This time in awe. Before him Sheede Silvercat had gotten to her feet and was glaring at him. Death smirked and picked up another cold shard from the new fallen snow. He threw it with a deadly accuracy; however, the Sword of Martin flashed up and blocked it away. Sheede stepped forward. Death took a step back and threw another shard, which was blocked as well. Sheede continued moving toward him. Death had begun to move away out of fear and Sheede could see that plainly. "Come on wolf, face me!" She taunted him mercilessly. "It's not a wolf before me, it's a chicken!" Scornful laughter soon bubbled up around him and Death began to get very angry.
In a flash of final rage he grabbed the sword of the nearest soldier and rushed the wounded cat. She ducked his wild swing and imbedded the Sword of Martin deep into Death's chest. For a moment Death simply stared at the blade and the blood that welled up around it. He looked at Sheede in disbelief and she sneered at him. "You never had a chance of defeating me," she told him in a stony voice. Death sank slowly to the earth, his foul life force flowing away to the dark forest.
Silence hung over everything and Sheede suddenly addressed everyone. "Death Raventooth has been destroyed and with it his horde. Those of you who remain from it will be forced to dispose of your comrades' remains. Then you will be given enough supplies for three days and released to the woods to seek your own paths." She fell silent and Tyril instantly took over the completion of her orders. Dar saw her falter as she stood in the few inches of snow and he moved quickly to her side. He had no sooner reached her than she collapsed heavily into his arms, her chilling green eyes rolling back in to her head. If Darkness yelled when she did this, she never heard it.
A/N: Is this the end?!?! I'd better get over 50 reviews! grins wickedly
A/N: I can't believe how close this has gotten to the end. This was the first story I posted and I had no idea that it'd be relatively popular! Thank you all! Let's see if we can break 50 reviews!!
Chapter 25: Last Resort
Sheede, Dar, and the band of freed slaves traveled along the Abbey wall, away from the bulk of the battle. The Silvercat ran ahead of everyone; she was focusing solely on finding the despicable canine. Finally she found him sheltered in the orchard, fighting off several young mice as easily as he would fight off so many yawns. Sheede swore to herself that she would shed a tear of every beast who died trying to end the tyranny that bound them. "DEATH!!" she roared. The anger, fury, and rage that were fueled into that call actually brought the battle to a stand still. Every beast held their weapons and turned to see the final confrontation between the two legendary leaders. Silence reigned over the Abbey and Lord Stonepaw and Phillet quickly formed a perimeter around the two combatants. Everyone waited for one of the two leaders to make their move.
Death locked eyes with the fearful wildcat before him. The blinding maelstrom of vengeance that had erupted from her only moments ago had all been withdrawn back into the Silvercat where it was focused to a deadly point. The wolf suppressed a shiver as they circled one another. Death suddenly noticed the sword strapped to her back and quickly wondered if that was the battered letter opener he'd thrown over the wall seasons ago. Why was it on her back? Surely it would be a moral booster for the slaves to see her wield it. Death's eyes lit with wicked delight, perhaps she was not skilled in the use of the sword! He called over to her in an overly genial tone, "What say we finish this like warriors? Sword against sword alone?"
Sheede had noticed that the temperature was dropping and she found it strange that she would notice such a small trivial thing when faced with this situation. She also found that her anger did not consume her; she was ready for battle in a sort of balanced clarity. She couldn't help but hide the sneer when Death called cheerily over to her. She appeared to think about his offer for a moment before finally replying. "Although you are no warrior, I accept the terms." And with that she easily threw her gauntlets to Phillet, who staggered under their surprising weight. She drew the Sword of Martin and smiled when she saw Death's expression of surprise intermixed with the surrounding gasps of shock.
Death worked to hide his surprise when he saw how beautiful the blade shown as she drew it. He was also dismayed to see her expert grip on the sword as she fell into a ready position. Death narrowed his eyes and tightened his own grip; he must make the first move. To not do so would cost him a lot of respect from his troops. He had never been bested with a sword and he would be damned if he started now!
Sheede easily dodged the wolf's first rush and followed it with one of her own. They were testing each other's abilities; and both were impressed. They soon fell in to a steady rhythm complimented by the harsh clangs of Death's blade and the clear ringing of Sheede's. While the two danced in deadly arcs, snow had begun to fall in Mossflower to herald the end of fall. It added an otherworldly effect to the heated battle.
Off to the side Phillet had drawn himself away from the sight and was leading a band of Abbey beasts to aid the wounded and move them inside. The young hare was impressed to see the young squirrelmaid who was consulted by her elders offer aid to friend and foe alike. It was good to see that even after being bound to slavery that the inherent generosity of the Abbey had not been lost.
Also away from the battle, Tyril led a group of hares and otters to form a second perimeter behind all of the troops to box Death's horde in. They also quietly instructed the rest of Sheede's army to move stealthily out of the two circles. Death's troops paid no attention to them.
Suddenly Death swung his sword in a high attack to finish the Silvercat and she blocked it with a swing of her own. She put so much force into the block that the wolf's sword shattered into several long shards. The impact shook Death violently and he fell to the ground. Sheede was instantly there to deliver the final blow when the treacherous wolf quickly leapt from the ground and drove one of the shards deed into Sheede's torso. A great cry went up from the crowd and Sheede was forced to her knees gasping. This wasn't right. Russano the Wise had granted her time; she would not die now!
Death had swaggered away and turned when he heard the roaring forces grow quiet again. This time in awe. Before him Sheede Silvercat had gotten to her feet and was glaring at him. Death smirked and picked up another cold shard from the new fallen snow. He threw it with a deadly accuracy; however, the Sword of Martin flashed up and blocked it away. Sheede stepped forward. Death took a step back and threw another shard, which was blocked as well. Sheede continued moving toward him. Death had begun to move away out of fear and Sheede could see that plainly. "Come on wolf, face me!" She taunted him mercilessly. "It's not a wolf before me, it's a chicken!" Scornful laughter soon bubbled up around him and Death began to get very angry.
In a flash of final rage he grabbed the sword of the nearest soldier and rushed the wounded cat. She ducked his wild swing and imbedded the Sword of Martin deep into Death's chest. For a moment Death simply stared at the blade and the blood that welled up around it. He looked at Sheede in disbelief and she sneered at him. "You never had a chance of defeating me," she told him in a stony voice. Death sank slowly to the earth, his foul life force flowing away to the dark forest.
Silence hung over everything and Sheede suddenly addressed everyone. "Death Raventooth has been destroyed and with it his horde. Those of you who remain from it will be forced to dispose of your comrades' remains. Then you will be given enough supplies for three days and released to the woods to seek your own paths." She fell silent and Tyril instantly took over the completion of her orders. Dar saw her falter as she stood in the few inches of snow and he moved quickly to her side. He had no sooner reached her than she collapsed heavily into his arms, her chilling green eyes rolling back in to her head. If Darkness yelled when she did this, she never heard it.
A/N: Is this the end?!?! I'd better get over 50 reviews! grins wickedly