Chapter Three:
Sorsha was a small mouse, even for her age. Barely a season out of Dibbunhood, she was quiet and rarely got into mischief. She loved Redwall Abbey and its dwellers, but often found herself in need of seclusion. It was during one of those moments that the maid found herself walking into Great Hall where the only other creature was the old one called Martin.
Glad to be in the cool shade after such a hot summer day, Sorsha leaned against the cold, rose-colored stones and smiled fondly at the old warrior. He was always so kind to her. He played childish games with her when she was a dibbun and instructed her in the use of a stave as a weapon should the need ever arise that she would have to defend herself or some smaller creature. He was far older than she, but treated her as though they were equal. Never knowing her father, the young mousemaid always hoped that he was like Martin.
The warrior was standing in front of the red walls, his paw dead center with one of the stones, staring as if seeing something that was not there.
Without warning, the old mouse fell into a fit of coughing and dropped to the ground.
"Martin!!!" Sorsha called, rushing to the elder's side. Small as she was, Sorsha found the strength to sit Martin up against the wall. His body, frailer and older than ever, shook with the effort of breathing.
"Let me take you to your room, sir. You just need to rest awhile." The maid encouraged, her voice shaking with worry.
Smiling warmly at the girl, Martin shook his head, "Nay, child. Here is as good a place to rest as any."
"Then you stay here, and I'll go get Sister Samantha. She'll know what to do." Sorsha said, her paw gripping Martin's. But, Martin's feeble paw refused to release the young one's when she tried to stand up.
"No, please, stay with me. I am so tired." he whispered, his vision beginning to dim, "How did I get so old, Sorsha? I never used to feel like this."
Ignoring his question, Sorsha felt panic edging it's way into her heart. Looking around Great Hall, she could see no one. She gave a quick shout, but knew none would hear it. Everyone was outside, enjoying the beautiful summer day. Tears began to course down her cheeks as she turned back to the dying mouse.
"Please Martin. Let me go get someone. Anyone." she pleaded, her voice choked with the effort of holding back her panic and tears.
"No, little one. It is too late for that." he replied, coughing weakly. Sorsha could feel his paw weakening in its grip. Determined, she gripped it even harder, as if to encourage him.
"Don't leave me Martin. Please don't leave me." She cried helplessly. Soundlessly, she collapsed on top of him, weeping freely into his habit.
Martin used his free paw to wipe the tears from her cheeks.
"Do not cry for me, my Sorsha. I lived a full and happy life." he comforted, meeting his dark eyes with her blue ones.
"You are like a father to me. I'm not ready for you to go yet." she sobbed.
"Sweet Sorsha. You always were too kind."
Martin looked away from Sorsha and stared into space, once again a vision of something only he could see filling his mind. Grinning, his eyes began to cloud over.
"They're waiting for me. All of them. How beautiful she is." he smiled, his head falling back against the stone walls of his beloved Abbey. His eyes closed, never again to see the morning sun reflecting off the highest point of the bell tower. His lips curved upward, an eternal smile of contentment and happiness. And his paw, still held by Sorsha's, fell lifeless as he drifted away to answer the call of the Dark Forest.
The little mousemaid sat there speechless, her quivering paw refusing to release his. Silence reigned in Great Hall until the child fell to weeping upon the still body of Martin the Warrior.
And it wasn't for an hour, when the setting sun encouraged the Abbey dwellers to retire, that the maid was found, still weeping upon the still form of the one called Martin.
Sorsha was a small mouse, even for her age. Barely a season out of Dibbunhood, she was quiet and rarely got into mischief. She loved Redwall Abbey and its dwellers, but often found herself in need of seclusion. It was during one of those moments that the maid found herself walking into Great Hall where the only other creature was the old one called Martin.
Glad to be in the cool shade after such a hot summer day, Sorsha leaned against the cold, rose-colored stones and smiled fondly at the old warrior. He was always so kind to her. He played childish games with her when she was a dibbun and instructed her in the use of a stave as a weapon should the need ever arise that she would have to defend herself or some smaller creature. He was far older than she, but treated her as though they were equal. Never knowing her father, the young mousemaid always hoped that he was like Martin.
The warrior was standing in front of the red walls, his paw dead center with one of the stones, staring as if seeing something that was not there.
Without warning, the old mouse fell into a fit of coughing and dropped to the ground.
"Martin!!!" Sorsha called, rushing to the elder's side. Small as she was, Sorsha found the strength to sit Martin up against the wall. His body, frailer and older than ever, shook with the effort of breathing.
"Let me take you to your room, sir. You just need to rest awhile." The maid encouraged, her voice shaking with worry.
Smiling warmly at the girl, Martin shook his head, "Nay, child. Here is as good a place to rest as any."
"Then you stay here, and I'll go get Sister Samantha. She'll know what to do." Sorsha said, her paw gripping Martin's. But, Martin's feeble paw refused to release the young one's when she tried to stand up.
"No, please, stay with me. I am so tired." he whispered, his vision beginning to dim, "How did I get so old, Sorsha? I never used to feel like this."
Ignoring his question, Sorsha felt panic edging it's way into her heart. Looking around Great Hall, she could see no one. She gave a quick shout, but knew none would hear it. Everyone was outside, enjoying the beautiful summer day. Tears began to course down her cheeks as she turned back to the dying mouse.
"Please Martin. Let me go get someone. Anyone." she pleaded, her voice choked with the effort of holding back her panic and tears.
"No, little one. It is too late for that." he replied, coughing weakly. Sorsha could feel his paw weakening in its grip. Determined, she gripped it even harder, as if to encourage him.
"Don't leave me Martin. Please don't leave me." She cried helplessly. Soundlessly, she collapsed on top of him, weeping freely into his habit.
Martin used his free paw to wipe the tears from her cheeks.
"Do not cry for me, my Sorsha. I lived a full and happy life." he comforted, meeting his dark eyes with her blue ones.
"You are like a father to me. I'm not ready for you to go yet." she sobbed.
"Sweet Sorsha. You always were too kind."
Martin looked away from Sorsha and stared into space, once again a vision of something only he could see filling his mind. Grinning, his eyes began to cloud over.
"They're waiting for me. All of them. How beautiful she is." he smiled, his head falling back against the stone walls of his beloved Abbey. His eyes closed, never again to see the morning sun reflecting off the highest point of the bell tower. His lips curved upward, an eternal smile of contentment and happiness. And his paw, still held by Sorsha's, fell lifeless as he drifted away to answer the call of the Dark Forest.
The little mousemaid sat there speechless, her quivering paw refusing to release his. Silence reigned in Great Hall until the child fell to weeping upon the still body of Martin the Warrior.
And it wasn't for an hour, when the setting sun encouraged the Abbey dwellers to retire, that the maid was found, still weeping upon the still form of the one called Martin.
