~Theft Of The Sword~
~Chapter Six~
The noonday sun hung high in the sky, sending down golden shafts of light through the leaves of the trees, decorating the forest floor with beautiful golden patterns. Oblivious to all of this was a young mouse, running flat out, an axe held high above him as he tore through the forest foliage glancing up every so often to check where the cloud of smoke was. Nimbalo had found the tracks of his friend faded early in his journey, but luckily had spotted the smoke billowing from the vermin camp, knowing that it had to be Deyna's destination. His lungs burning and his body pleading for rest, the mouse slowed his pace, jogging through the forest at a more comfortable pace along a natural path.
"C'mon, we 'aven't got any time." Nimbalo froze as he heard the voice, along with the sounds of somebeast running through the forest, coming towards him. Stepping behind a tree where he was sure that they would pass, since they would most likely be following the path as well.
"Where are we goin'?" A female voice asked, plainly out of breath, as they drew ever closer. Crouching down behind the tree, Nimbalo stuck the pole of his axe out across the path.
"Anywhere, but back there . . ." The first voice replied, also out of breath, as Nimbalo waited as the sounds of the two beasts drew closer until then, in a flurry of fallen leaves, one of the beasts went down hard to find the blade of the mouse's axe at her throat.
"Nimbalo?" The mouse glanced up to find a blade at his throat as well, but the true surprise was who held it, for there at the other end of the spear stood Deyna, panting heavily, a look of surprise on his face.
"Deyna, wot are ye doin' out 'ere with . . ." Nimbalo paused for a moment as the beast he had tripped rose to her foot paws, an annoyed look on her face as a look of shock passed over Nimbalo's at the sight of the pine marten. ". . .A marten!" With a growl Nimbalo's paw shot to his axe, as he raised the blade aggressively. With a look of fear in her eyes, the marten back away quickly.
"Don't!" Deyna cried, grabbing his friend's axe in on paw to prevent him from using it. "Her name's, Pearl. She's with me an' we're running from . . ." Deyna paused for a moment as Nimbalo lowered his weapon away and Pearl rose to her foot paws, Deyna and Nimbalo's eyes both upon her. "Nimbalo?"
"Yeah, Deyna?"
"Is Mhera alright?" The otter asked, his eyes suddenly full of mistrust for the female marten.
"Aye, she's perfectly fine, mate. She was no more hurt then ye were by that thief, that's wot I came ta tell ye." Nimbalo replied, cautious eyes upon Pearl as she stood there, the look of fear slowly fading from her eyes. "So, why are ye wit a marten?"
"Tis a bit of a story an' right now we 'ad best get movin'. I'll tell ye on the way back to Redwall." The otter said, noticing that Pearl seemed to flinch at the mention of the abbey. "C'mon, we 'ave ta hurry an' warn them." With that they all took off running for the abbey, Deyna explaining the whole story for Nimbalo in between hurried breaths as they ran, telling the mouse what had happened and what would.
~~~~~~
As Deyna, Pearl and Nimbalo ran, Hallan had run back into Olin's, clutching his chest, falling at the edge of the camp in fake show of pain. Suddenly he was surrounded by guards who searched the weasel quickly before dragging him off to Olin's tent, unceremoniously he was thrown before the warlord, face down in the dirt, Hallan found the great sword of Martin pressed to his throat.
"And what happened here?" Olin chuckled at some unspoken jest, walking around the fallen weasel, his blade always to Hallan's throat. Outside the guards chuckled as well, almost as if on cue, but it ended quickly as the marten shot them a cruel glare. Bending down before the weasel he grabbed him by the throat, pulling him forward until their faces were right next to each other. "So what happened, weasel? You were the last one they saw her with, so what happened? Hmm?" Olin asked in an icy voice, shaking the weasel violently as he struggled to answer the warlord's inquiries.
"It was some otter, I don't know from where . . .he snuck up from behind us an' took her. I tried ta stop 'er, but there was nothin' I could do . . ." Hallan tried to explain, his voice choked by the paws on his throat.
"You have failed me, Hallan, punishment is in order for . . ." Suddenly the marten seemed to hesitate, stuttering a moment before standing to address the guards that stood outside. "All of you leave now! Patrol the edges of camp, make sure no other beasts are around." Olin bellowed and at the order, everybeast scrambled away from the tent. They knew what the marten's tone meant and nobeast wished to be around him. Olin stood, sweating heavily over the fallen weasel, staring out the tent until suddenly the marten collapsed onto the floor of the tent.
"Olin?" Hallan whispered, plainly shocked by what he saw, Olin lay shivering on the floor, eyes open in fear.
"Help . . ." A small voice escaped from the marten's throat, Hallan made a move to rise, but from somewhere behind the weasel came a blow from the butt of a staff and he fell, dazed, but not unconscious as he watched a shadow step over him, a length of rope dragging on the ground before it. Soon, Hallan found himself bound tightly with the rope, a gag over his mouth for the second time that day.
"Damn, marten. Stop fightin' it already." He heard a gruff, but unmistakably feminine voice curse somewhere above him as the shadow moved to Olin's side.
"Ne- . . . ne- . . ." The marten tried to respond with something, but a swift kick from the shadow silenced Olin as the creature stepped from the shadows to reveal herself as a black furred vixen, her yellow eyes, full of hate and greed, glowing in the low light of the tent. She stooped down at the marten's side, forcing some strange potion down the warlord's throat, whispering something in a nonsense language as she did so.
"You shall obey, Olin." She muttered the final words in an understandable language. The marten rose to his foot paws at her words, his eyes completely blank, an empty, emotionless void. Suddenly it clicked in Hallan's half-conscious mind, it was the vixen that Pearl had spoken of, their common enemy.
"Yes, Arrikaj, I shall." Olin stated emotionlessly before suddenly his eyes seemed to flicker back into life and the marten turned to face the vixen.
"The weasel knows too much, milord. You must execute him immediately and begin the march upon Redwall tonight, after his funeral." The vixen faded into the shadows, an evil grin upon her face. The warlord stood, blinking for moment before snapping into life, grabbing Hallan by his neck, dragging the bound weasel into the center of the camp.
"You two!" Olin commanded pointing at a random pair of beasts, a fox and a rat who immediately stood at attention. "Get a fire going." He ordered, glancing down at Hallan with a cruel grin. "We're going to have a roast tonight!" A look of shock passed between the pair of beasts, as Hallan glanced up, fear obvious in the weasel's eyes, everybeast knew what the warlord had planned.
~Chapter Six~
The noonday sun hung high in the sky, sending down golden shafts of light through the leaves of the trees, decorating the forest floor with beautiful golden patterns. Oblivious to all of this was a young mouse, running flat out, an axe held high above him as he tore through the forest foliage glancing up every so often to check where the cloud of smoke was. Nimbalo had found the tracks of his friend faded early in his journey, but luckily had spotted the smoke billowing from the vermin camp, knowing that it had to be Deyna's destination. His lungs burning and his body pleading for rest, the mouse slowed his pace, jogging through the forest at a more comfortable pace along a natural path.
"C'mon, we 'aven't got any time." Nimbalo froze as he heard the voice, along with the sounds of somebeast running through the forest, coming towards him. Stepping behind a tree where he was sure that they would pass, since they would most likely be following the path as well.
"Where are we goin'?" A female voice asked, plainly out of breath, as they drew ever closer. Crouching down behind the tree, Nimbalo stuck the pole of his axe out across the path.
"Anywhere, but back there . . ." The first voice replied, also out of breath, as Nimbalo waited as the sounds of the two beasts drew closer until then, in a flurry of fallen leaves, one of the beasts went down hard to find the blade of the mouse's axe at her throat.
"Nimbalo?" The mouse glanced up to find a blade at his throat as well, but the true surprise was who held it, for there at the other end of the spear stood Deyna, panting heavily, a look of surprise on his face.
"Deyna, wot are ye doin' out 'ere with . . ." Nimbalo paused for a moment as the beast he had tripped rose to her foot paws, an annoyed look on her face as a look of shock passed over Nimbalo's at the sight of the pine marten. ". . .A marten!" With a growl Nimbalo's paw shot to his axe, as he raised the blade aggressively. With a look of fear in her eyes, the marten back away quickly.
"Don't!" Deyna cried, grabbing his friend's axe in on paw to prevent him from using it. "Her name's, Pearl. She's with me an' we're running from . . ." Deyna paused for a moment as Nimbalo lowered his weapon away and Pearl rose to her foot paws, Deyna and Nimbalo's eyes both upon her. "Nimbalo?"
"Yeah, Deyna?"
"Is Mhera alright?" The otter asked, his eyes suddenly full of mistrust for the female marten.
"Aye, she's perfectly fine, mate. She was no more hurt then ye were by that thief, that's wot I came ta tell ye." Nimbalo replied, cautious eyes upon Pearl as she stood there, the look of fear slowly fading from her eyes. "So, why are ye wit a marten?"
"Tis a bit of a story an' right now we 'ad best get movin'. I'll tell ye on the way back to Redwall." The otter said, noticing that Pearl seemed to flinch at the mention of the abbey. "C'mon, we 'ave ta hurry an' warn them." With that they all took off running for the abbey, Deyna explaining the whole story for Nimbalo in between hurried breaths as they ran, telling the mouse what had happened and what would.
~~~~~~
As Deyna, Pearl and Nimbalo ran, Hallan had run back into Olin's, clutching his chest, falling at the edge of the camp in fake show of pain. Suddenly he was surrounded by guards who searched the weasel quickly before dragging him off to Olin's tent, unceremoniously he was thrown before the warlord, face down in the dirt, Hallan found the great sword of Martin pressed to his throat.
"And what happened here?" Olin chuckled at some unspoken jest, walking around the fallen weasel, his blade always to Hallan's throat. Outside the guards chuckled as well, almost as if on cue, but it ended quickly as the marten shot them a cruel glare. Bending down before the weasel he grabbed him by the throat, pulling him forward until their faces were right next to each other. "So what happened, weasel? You were the last one they saw her with, so what happened? Hmm?" Olin asked in an icy voice, shaking the weasel violently as he struggled to answer the warlord's inquiries.
"It was some otter, I don't know from where . . .he snuck up from behind us an' took her. I tried ta stop 'er, but there was nothin' I could do . . ." Hallan tried to explain, his voice choked by the paws on his throat.
"You have failed me, Hallan, punishment is in order for . . ." Suddenly the marten seemed to hesitate, stuttering a moment before standing to address the guards that stood outside. "All of you leave now! Patrol the edges of camp, make sure no other beasts are around." Olin bellowed and at the order, everybeast scrambled away from the tent. They knew what the marten's tone meant and nobeast wished to be around him. Olin stood, sweating heavily over the fallen weasel, staring out the tent until suddenly the marten collapsed onto the floor of the tent.
"Olin?" Hallan whispered, plainly shocked by what he saw, Olin lay shivering on the floor, eyes open in fear.
"Help . . ." A small voice escaped from the marten's throat, Hallan made a move to rise, but from somewhere behind the weasel came a blow from the butt of a staff and he fell, dazed, but not unconscious as he watched a shadow step over him, a length of rope dragging on the ground before it. Soon, Hallan found himself bound tightly with the rope, a gag over his mouth for the second time that day.
"Damn, marten. Stop fightin' it already." He heard a gruff, but unmistakably feminine voice curse somewhere above him as the shadow moved to Olin's side.
"Ne- . . . ne- . . ." The marten tried to respond with something, but a swift kick from the shadow silenced Olin as the creature stepped from the shadows to reveal herself as a black furred vixen, her yellow eyes, full of hate and greed, glowing in the low light of the tent. She stooped down at the marten's side, forcing some strange potion down the warlord's throat, whispering something in a nonsense language as she did so.
"You shall obey, Olin." She muttered the final words in an understandable language. The marten rose to his foot paws at her words, his eyes completely blank, an empty, emotionless void. Suddenly it clicked in Hallan's half-conscious mind, it was the vixen that Pearl had spoken of, their common enemy.
"Yes, Arrikaj, I shall." Olin stated emotionlessly before suddenly his eyes seemed to flicker back into life and the marten turned to face the vixen.
"The weasel knows too much, milord. You must execute him immediately and begin the march upon Redwall tonight, after his funeral." The vixen faded into the shadows, an evil grin upon her face. The warlord stood, blinking for moment before snapping into life, grabbing Hallan by his neck, dragging the bound weasel into the center of the camp.
"You two!" Olin commanded pointing at a random pair of beasts, a fox and a rat who immediately stood at attention. "Get a fire going." He ordered, glancing down at Hallan with a cruel grin. "We're going to have a roast tonight!" A look of shock passed between the pair of beasts, as Hallan glanced up, fear obvious in the weasel's eyes, everybeast knew what the warlord had planned.