Chapter 2:
The Spirit Bow
Upon returning to the courtyard, the young mouse decided to have a look around the orchard. As soon as he stepped into the place, he reached a new level of depression and hopelessness. All he saw upon first glance were several dead, leafless trees, rotting where they stood. On closer inspection, however, the mouse saw that there was, in fact, something in the orchard aside from the trees. A patch of pumpkins, not dead but very much alive, sat directly across from him.
That's extremely weird, the mouse said to himself. There can't've been any beasts here in forty seasons. How could there be new pumpkins? Crossing the orchard, he bent to take a closer look at the plants.
He was soon distracted, however, by the rustling of the wind. Looking up, he saw a paper in one of the dead trees. Taking out his fishing rod, he jumped up, poking the paper off the branch upon which it was caught.
It fluttered to the ground. Picking it up, the young mouse realized it was exactly the same as the other piece of parchment he had in his pocket. It was completely blank except for a single R at the top. Pocketing it, the mouse left the orchard.
What do I know about hedgehogs? the mouse asked himself. Anything...anything....well, they know a good bit about brewing drinks. Yeah, I remember, in the tales of Redwall I always heard, they had something called a "Cellarhog." Oh, and this place...yeah, everything makes a little more sense now. This place was supposed to be just like Redwall.
The mouse shuddered. I hope Redwall hasn't ended up like this, he thought to himself. Then he shuddered again. This must be some sort of key for the cellars. Oh no. I have to go down to the cellars of this place? Well, the hog said he'd try to help me. Guess this means I'll have to go back to that creepy main hall.
Taking a deep breath, the mouse strode across the courtyard and into the main building. Once inside, he ran his eyes quickly over the tables and the skull mantle to the door on one side of the room. Probably to the kitchens, he thought. Well, maybe there's a way to get to the cellars from there.
He ran towards the door, which indeed did lead to the kitchens. Once inside, he saw the sorry state of disrepair that had overtaken the whole Abbey rear its ugly head once again. He almost wept, for it looked as though it had been so happy and productive at one point. Not anymore, though. The kitchen utensils had become so badly decayed that they were useless. The ovens charred and decaying contents made the young mouse heave as though to vomit. At the other end of the room from whence he entered, he saw a door.
That must lead to the cellars, the mouse thought. Yes, there's barely any light coming from it. Wait, there shouldn't be any at all. No moonlight should get to the cellars. Either way, might as well try this key.
Striding purposefully to the door, the mouse fitted the key into the keyhole. It slid in without any trouble. Turning the key, the mouse heard a click. Cautiously, he pushed open the door.
A long set of stairs descended downward, leading the mouse to believe that he had been right. He gulped. What good could possibly come out of his going down there? It was unbelievably cold, and there was barely any light. Going into the dark with ghosts around? How smart was that?
The hog said that he'd help me, the mouse told himself. He gave me a key that leads down here. Maybe there's something down here that'll help me. Steeling himself, he descended the stairs into the freezing cold of the cellars.
There was no moonlight at all in this lowest level of the Abbey. In fact, the mouse wouldn't have been able to see an inch in front of his nose if it wasn't for two candles on either side of the room. Must've been that hog, the mouse thought to himself. Maybe he really will help me out.
There were several barrels in this room. Examining one, the mouse found that they contained wine. His guess had been right. The hedgehog that he had seen had been the Abbey's Cellarhog.
Squinting, he could just make out another door at the other end of the room. Whatever I'm down here for must be in there, the mouse thought. Nothing in here but barrels and barrels of wine...and now's no time for drinking!
Moving fairly quickly across the cellars, he came to the other door. This one wasn't locked. The young mouse pushed inside.
It was an armory. Hanging all over the walls were swords, shields, spears, and slings...not to mention a few suits of armor. Whatever it is that's haunting this place, the mouse thought to himself, I can't harm it with a simple blade.
Looking up to his right, the mouse saw the edge of something protruding from the shelf. What could that be? he thought. Maybe it's something the hog just put there that could help me. Or maybe not. Whatever it is, I'm going to find out. Taking his fishing rod once again, he cast it at that shelf, knocking the contents onto the floor. The sound made him jump, half-expecting to see spirits rushing to attack him. None came, however.
Bending over, he saw what he had knocked down: a bow and a quiver of arrows. He picked the bow up. There was an inscription upon the handle. "With the Spirit Bow, one can pierce not only the flesh, but the soul, of the hostile".
Hmm, the mouse thought to himself. If that's true, then maybe this is what I need to ward off whatever it is that's haunting this place. He tied the quiver to himself and slung the bow across his back. His archery skills were a little rusty, but nevertheless, he could still defend himself with a bow as well as the next mouse.
Looking around the room again, he saw that there was another door on the other side. It was slightly open, and because he had left the other door open he could still see by the candle light. The other room appeared to be some sort of archery range. Well, the mouse thought, I could use some practice if I'm going to be using a bow to defend myself for the duration of my stay here. He headed for the archery range.
Stepping inside, the young mouse was overwhelmed by the stench of death. There was a note on the floor in front of him. Hastily scribbled and somewhat faded upon the yellowing parchment was the following message: "WE HAVE BEEN MAKING OUR FINAL STAND AGAINST THE VERMIN IN THE ARMORY. THEY HAVE FINALLY FORCED US INTO THE ARCHERY RANGE, WHERE WE HAVE BLOCKADED OURSELVES IN. OUR DEATHS ARE ASSURED, BUT WE SHALL TAKE MUCH OF THE SCUM WITH US."
Looking up from the morbid note, the mouse saw many ghostly vermin, as well as a few spectral Abbey defenders, swarming maliciously around the room. Unslinging his bow, the young mouse fitted an arrow to the string. It appeared he had another fight on his hands!
A stoat dived toward him. The mouse let fly his arrow. It flew straight and true...piercing the spectral stoat right where a living stoat's heart would have been. Surprisingly, upon being hit the stoat seemed to scramble away and vanish into nothing, almost the same way the pikes had dissipated after being hooked with his fishing line.
Taking a step backward, the mouse let fly another arrow, this one flying straight through a rat, a mouse, and a fox before hitting the bulls- eye on one of the archery targets on the other side of the room. All three spirits fled.
The mouse nodded grimly to himself, leaping aside as the spirit of a rat flew past him into the other room. He started to fire more rapidly now, taking out as many five spirits with a single shot. He knew that he could have done even better had he not been so out of practice.
Suddenly, a hare dived at him. The malicious expression on the goodbeast's face was almost too much for the young mouse to bear. What horrible creature could have taken the soul of a hare and turned it into a mindless killing machine?
Letting fly, the mouse struck the hare dead on with another arrow from his Spirit Bow. It fled and vanished, just as the other spirits had.
Looking up, the mouse noticed that there were very few spirits left in the room now; he had made a serious dent in their numbers.
Looking back to the spot where he had hit the hare, the mouse noticed that the hare had left three things behind: a decayed old bow, some bloody shreds of clothing, and a brass key.
Moving quickly, the mouse snatched the key. Looking up, he saw that the room had begun to fill again with the spirits of the vermin. I'd better get out of here, he thought. Whatever damage this bow does to the spirit doesn't seem to be permanent.
Pocketing the key, reslinging the Spirit Bow over his shoulders, and stopping only to pick up the arrow he had dropped when running out to get the key, the young mouse sprinted from the room. Back through the armory, back through the cellars, up the stairs, through the kitchen, and into the main hall.
Panting extremely hard, the young mouse wheeled around to see that the spirits of the vermin hadn't followed him. Apparently, they hadn't wanted a second piece of the Spirit Bow. The mouse smiled to himself. He had found a weapon to defend himself. Everything seems less scary when you have a weapon to defend yourself.
I'll explore upstairs next, he thought confidently. Striding purposefully to the spiral staircase, the young mouse felt a new resolve. Whatever this haunted Abbey could throw at him, he had something with which to fight back: the Spirit Bow.
Upon returning to the courtyard, the young mouse decided to have a look around the orchard. As soon as he stepped into the place, he reached a new level of depression and hopelessness. All he saw upon first glance were several dead, leafless trees, rotting where they stood. On closer inspection, however, the mouse saw that there was, in fact, something in the orchard aside from the trees. A patch of pumpkins, not dead but very much alive, sat directly across from him.
That's extremely weird, the mouse said to himself. There can't've been any beasts here in forty seasons. How could there be new pumpkins? Crossing the orchard, he bent to take a closer look at the plants.
He was soon distracted, however, by the rustling of the wind. Looking up, he saw a paper in one of the dead trees. Taking out his fishing rod, he jumped up, poking the paper off the branch upon which it was caught.
It fluttered to the ground. Picking it up, the young mouse realized it was exactly the same as the other piece of parchment he had in his pocket. It was completely blank except for a single R at the top. Pocketing it, the mouse left the orchard.
What do I know about hedgehogs? the mouse asked himself. Anything...anything....well, they know a good bit about brewing drinks. Yeah, I remember, in the tales of Redwall I always heard, they had something called a "Cellarhog." Oh, and this place...yeah, everything makes a little more sense now. This place was supposed to be just like Redwall.
The mouse shuddered. I hope Redwall hasn't ended up like this, he thought to himself. Then he shuddered again. This must be some sort of key for the cellars. Oh no. I have to go down to the cellars of this place? Well, the hog said he'd try to help me. Guess this means I'll have to go back to that creepy main hall.
Taking a deep breath, the mouse strode across the courtyard and into the main building. Once inside, he ran his eyes quickly over the tables and the skull mantle to the door on one side of the room. Probably to the kitchens, he thought. Well, maybe there's a way to get to the cellars from there.
He ran towards the door, which indeed did lead to the kitchens. Once inside, he saw the sorry state of disrepair that had overtaken the whole Abbey rear its ugly head once again. He almost wept, for it looked as though it had been so happy and productive at one point. Not anymore, though. The kitchen utensils had become so badly decayed that they were useless. The ovens charred and decaying contents made the young mouse heave as though to vomit. At the other end of the room from whence he entered, he saw a door.
That must lead to the cellars, the mouse thought. Yes, there's barely any light coming from it. Wait, there shouldn't be any at all. No moonlight should get to the cellars. Either way, might as well try this key.
Striding purposefully to the door, the mouse fitted the key into the keyhole. It slid in without any trouble. Turning the key, the mouse heard a click. Cautiously, he pushed open the door.
A long set of stairs descended downward, leading the mouse to believe that he had been right. He gulped. What good could possibly come out of his going down there? It was unbelievably cold, and there was barely any light. Going into the dark with ghosts around? How smart was that?
The hog said that he'd help me, the mouse told himself. He gave me a key that leads down here. Maybe there's something down here that'll help me. Steeling himself, he descended the stairs into the freezing cold of the cellars.
There was no moonlight at all in this lowest level of the Abbey. In fact, the mouse wouldn't have been able to see an inch in front of his nose if it wasn't for two candles on either side of the room. Must've been that hog, the mouse thought to himself. Maybe he really will help me out.
There were several barrels in this room. Examining one, the mouse found that they contained wine. His guess had been right. The hedgehog that he had seen had been the Abbey's Cellarhog.
Squinting, he could just make out another door at the other end of the room. Whatever I'm down here for must be in there, the mouse thought. Nothing in here but barrels and barrels of wine...and now's no time for drinking!
Moving fairly quickly across the cellars, he came to the other door. This one wasn't locked. The young mouse pushed inside.
It was an armory. Hanging all over the walls were swords, shields, spears, and slings...not to mention a few suits of armor. Whatever it is that's haunting this place, the mouse thought to himself, I can't harm it with a simple blade.
Looking up to his right, the mouse saw the edge of something protruding from the shelf. What could that be? he thought. Maybe it's something the hog just put there that could help me. Or maybe not. Whatever it is, I'm going to find out. Taking his fishing rod once again, he cast it at that shelf, knocking the contents onto the floor. The sound made him jump, half-expecting to see spirits rushing to attack him. None came, however.
Bending over, he saw what he had knocked down: a bow and a quiver of arrows. He picked the bow up. There was an inscription upon the handle. "With the Spirit Bow, one can pierce not only the flesh, but the soul, of the hostile".
Hmm, the mouse thought to himself. If that's true, then maybe this is what I need to ward off whatever it is that's haunting this place. He tied the quiver to himself and slung the bow across his back. His archery skills were a little rusty, but nevertheless, he could still defend himself with a bow as well as the next mouse.
Looking around the room again, he saw that there was another door on the other side. It was slightly open, and because he had left the other door open he could still see by the candle light. The other room appeared to be some sort of archery range. Well, the mouse thought, I could use some practice if I'm going to be using a bow to defend myself for the duration of my stay here. He headed for the archery range.
Stepping inside, the young mouse was overwhelmed by the stench of death. There was a note on the floor in front of him. Hastily scribbled and somewhat faded upon the yellowing parchment was the following message: "WE HAVE BEEN MAKING OUR FINAL STAND AGAINST THE VERMIN IN THE ARMORY. THEY HAVE FINALLY FORCED US INTO THE ARCHERY RANGE, WHERE WE HAVE BLOCKADED OURSELVES IN. OUR DEATHS ARE ASSURED, BUT WE SHALL TAKE MUCH OF THE SCUM WITH US."
Looking up from the morbid note, the mouse saw many ghostly vermin, as well as a few spectral Abbey defenders, swarming maliciously around the room. Unslinging his bow, the young mouse fitted an arrow to the string. It appeared he had another fight on his hands!
A stoat dived toward him. The mouse let fly his arrow. It flew straight and true...piercing the spectral stoat right where a living stoat's heart would have been. Surprisingly, upon being hit the stoat seemed to scramble away and vanish into nothing, almost the same way the pikes had dissipated after being hooked with his fishing line.
Taking a step backward, the mouse let fly another arrow, this one flying straight through a rat, a mouse, and a fox before hitting the bulls- eye on one of the archery targets on the other side of the room. All three spirits fled.
The mouse nodded grimly to himself, leaping aside as the spirit of a rat flew past him into the other room. He started to fire more rapidly now, taking out as many five spirits with a single shot. He knew that he could have done even better had he not been so out of practice.
Suddenly, a hare dived at him. The malicious expression on the goodbeast's face was almost too much for the young mouse to bear. What horrible creature could have taken the soul of a hare and turned it into a mindless killing machine?
Letting fly, the mouse struck the hare dead on with another arrow from his Spirit Bow. It fled and vanished, just as the other spirits had.
Looking up, the mouse noticed that there were very few spirits left in the room now; he had made a serious dent in their numbers.
Looking back to the spot where he had hit the hare, the mouse noticed that the hare had left three things behind: a decayed old bow, some bloody shreds of clothing, and a brass key.
Moving quickly, the mouse snatched the key. Looking up, he saw that the room had begun to fill again with the spirits of the vermin. I'd better get out of here, he thought. Whatever damage this bow does to the spirit doesn't seem to be permanent.
Pocketing the key, reslinging the Spirit Bow over his shoulders, and stopping only to pick up the arrow he had dropped when running out to get the key, the young mouse sprinted from the room. Back through the armory, back through the cellars, up the stairs, through the kitchen, and into the main hall.
Panting extremely hard, the young mouse wheeled around to see that the spirits of the vermin hadn't followed him. Apparently, they hadn't wanted a second piece of the Spirit Bow. The mouse smiled to himself. He had found a weapon to defend himself. Everything seems less scary when you have a weapon to defend yourself.
I'll explore upstairs next, he thought confidently. Striding purposefully to the spiral staircase, the young mouse felt a new resolve. Whatever this haunted Abbey could throw at him, he had something with which to fight back: the Spirit Bow.