~Theft Of The Sword~
~Chapter Seven~
Slowly the sun began to descend down into the horizon, its glow casting long shadows across the vermin encampment where, at the very center, a tall stake stood up from the earth. Bound tightly to the stake was Hallan, his head hung in sorrow, before him, piled high, was kindling, a small campfire burning beside it. Everybeast in the horde was gathered for the execution, some stood laughing at the unfortunate weasel, while others stood back, expressions of sorrow etched on their faces. Even the prisoners had been brought out to watch, about a score of horde beasts guarding them. That was where Shale stood, watching her brother, chains binding her to the other slaves, Kyin and his sister by her side.
"I swear it, Olin . . .you will pay." Kyin muttered under his breath, growling softly at the marten that stood just across the flames, smiling. With a sigh, Kyin glanced around the camp, finding the divisions to be obvious. The beasts that stood by the slaves were the older members of the horde, those beasts that had witnessed their leader's metamorphosis in a cold, murderous warlord. On the other side of the fire stood Olin, surrounded by the newer members, all of them worthy of the title of 'vermin', an assortment of thieves, assassins and other sorts of scum.
"Silence!" Olin yelled out, a dangerous glint in the marten's eyes as he raised his paws for silence, quickly everybeast quieted until there was only the sounds of silence, even nature seemed to hold its breath. "I would say it is about time that we begin our little party, wouldn't you agree?" At these words a cheer went up from the newer members, the older beasts standing silent in disgust for their leader.
"I swear I'll kill you, scum! You will pay!" Kyin shouted, struggling against his bonds, but his cries were lost in the roar of the crowd, only heard by those standing close by. As the crowd quieted down, Olin motioned to a stoat that walked slowly to Hallan's side, a dagger in its paw.
"I'm sorry ol' friend, I truly am . . ." The stoat whispered as he stood next to the bound weasel, a look of disgust upon his face as he stared out into the crowd, finding the weasel's sister there. Her eyes staring into his own, watching the stoat's every move.
"I know . . .I know . . ." Hallan replied sullenly, not even lifting his head to glance at the stoat that began to inspect the ropes that held
"Do not worry, they'll take good care of your sis'. If I can cut through the ropes quickly enough, just make a break for it an' run, they'll look after little Shale." The stoat stepped away from the stake and moved to Olin's side, saluting sharply. "Ropes are tight an' secure, sir."
"Very good." Olin muttered, nodding his head in response before stepping to within a few feet of the bound weasel, the sword of Martin in his paw. "So, Hallan. Do you have any last words?" Olin asked, a smile upon his face as he lifted the weasel's chin up so that they could see eye-to-eye.
"I don't save words fer scum like you." Hallan replied, glaring at Olin, his hatred for the marten plainly obvious to anybeast.
"So you don't have any last words, Hallan? Not even for your poor little sister. Well, do not worry then. I'll take good care of your sister, you can count on that." Olin's cold words lit a new fire within Hallan's soul as he fought with his bindings, snapping at the marten that stood just out of his reach, smiling at the weasel's struggles.
"Touch 'er an' die, scum!" Hallan cursed the marten, trying to free his paws, a fire burning in his eyes as he fantasized about ripping Olin to shreds.
"Very good last words I must say, but I do believe that we best get on with it. Wouldn't you say?" Olin replied with a calm demeanor, cold eyes staring back into Hallan's own, as the weasel calmed down a bit, his snarls of rage quieting into a soft growls. "Begin." The marten gave the order, his eyes narrowing in hate as he stepped away from the weasel into the crowds of beasts who once again broke into cheers as the stoat began to pile the kindling around Hallan's ankles.
"Shale." A voice whispered from behind the small weasel maid, glancing back she found a rat there, a nervous look upon his face. "Stay silent little one, I'll have ye out o' 'ere soon."
"Hurry up, Jon. Ye haven't much time." Kyin whispered quietly out of the corner of his mouth, his eyes staring at the weasel, as the wood was piled ever higher until it was up around Hallan's waist.
"Burn me lovely!" Shouts and jeers could be heard from Olin's side of the execution as the stoat lifted a flaming torch from the small fire, holding it up before the crowd, putting on the show that Olin wanted. The pine marten was trying to work his horde into a ravenous mob and so far it was working, a bloodlust had spread over the scum.
"C'mon we have to go now, Shale." Jon whispered, tugging at the maid's shirtsleeve as she stood, rooted to the spot, staring at her brother's execution, watching as the flames were put to the kindling, igniting them quickly. The weasel's breathing was heavy as he felt the flames lick his foot paws and legs, burning away his fur, he grimaced in pain, gritting his teeth so he would not scream, so he would not give the marten that pleasure.
"Shale, you have to go." Kyin whispered to the young weasel maid, who stared at her brother, feeling his pain as she felt her heart being torn out, the remainder of her family dying before her eyes. "Shale, look at me." The weasel maid tore her eyes away from the flames to glance into Kyin's eyes, they were filled with the same pain and anger that she felt. "Hallan would want it this way, you have to live, for him." Shale bit her lip and nodded in response, burying the pain below as Jon lifted the maid and ran off into the forest.
"Prisoner escape!!" A cry went up from the slave guards, one of them had seen Jon's crime and suddenly the horde disintegrated into chaos as beasts rushed to get their weapons ready. Jon ran, the maid on his back as a hail of arrows rained down behind them, none of them hitting anything more then bark or earth.
"Gather the trackers and get them!" Olin screamed out in frustration, waving the sword of Martin about in anger, as he stared at the retreating form of his former slave. Suddenly the marten glanced back to the execution to find the fire burning brightly and their captive missing, his bonds lying on the ground, bits of burnt flesh and ash creating a trail off into the forest.
"Sir, the tracker's are ready." A young rat materialized beside the warlord, saluting smartly as he stood before a dozen or so beasts, all of them armed to the teeth. Glancing at the forest for a moment the warlord appeared to pause for a moment, deep in thought, before he answered the rat.
"Forget it, we do not have time for such things." The marten said, a calm demeanor reasserting itself over Olin as he called for his captain. "Gather everybeast and get the camp packed up, we march on Redwall tonight!"
Meanwhile, off in the forest, the vixen watched with a smile upon her face before she disappeared into the shadows. Everything was going as planned.
~Chapter Seven~
Slowly the sun began to descend down into the horizon, its glow casting long shadows across the vermin encampment where, at the very center, a tall stake stood up from the earth. Bound tightly to the stake was Hallan, his head hung in sorrow, before him, piled high, was kindling, a small campfire burning beside it. Everybeast in the horde was gathered for the execution, some stood laughing at the unfortunate weasel, while others stood back, expressions of sorrow etched on their faces. Even the prisoners had been brought out to watch, about a score of horde beasts guarding them. That was where Shale stood, watching her brother, chains binding her to the other slaves, Kyin and his sister by her side.
"I swear it, Olin . . .you will pay." Kyin muttered under his breath, growling softly at the marten that stood just across the flames, smiling. With a sigh, Kyin glanced around the camp, finding the divisions to be obvious. The beasts that stood by the slaves were the older members of the horde, those beasts that had witnessed their leader's metamorphosis in a cold, murderous warlord. On the other side of the fire stood Olin, surrounded by the newer members, all of them worthy of the title of 'vermin', an assortment of thieves, assassins and other sorts of scum.
"Silence!" Olin yelled out, a dangerous glint in the marten's eyes as he raised his paws for silence, quickly everybeast quieted until there was only the sounds of silence, even nature seemed to hold its breath. "I would say it is about time that we begin our little party, wouldn't you agree?" At these words a cheer went up from the newer members, the older beasts standing silent in disgust for their leader.
"I swear I'll kill you, scum! You will pay!" Kyin shouted, struggling against his bonds, but his cries were lost in the roar of the crowd, only heard by those standing close by. As the crowd quieted down, Olin motioned to a stoat that walked slowly to Hallan's side, a dagger in its paw.
"I'm sorry ol' friend, I truly am . . ." The stoat whispered as he stood next to the bound weasel, a look of disgust upon his face as he stared out into the crowd, finding the weasel's sister there. Her eyes staring into his own, watching the stoat's every move.
"I know . . .I know . . ." Hallan replied sullenly, not even lifting his head to glance at the stoat that began to inspect the ropes that held
"Do not worry, they'll take good care of your sis'. If I can cut through the ropes quickly enough, just make a break for it an' run, they'll look after little Shale." The stoat stepped away from the stake and moved to Olin's side, saluting sharply. "Ropes are tight an' secure, sir."
"Very good." Olin muttered, nodding his head in response before stepping to within a few feet of the bound weasel, the sword of Martin in his paw. "So, Hallan. Do you have any last words?" Olin asked, a smile upon his face as he lifted the weasel's chin up so that they could see eye-to-eye.
"I don't save words fer scum like you." Hallan replied, glaring at Olin, his hatred for the marten plainly obvious to anybeast.
"So you don't have any last words, Hallan? Not even for your poor little sister. Well, do not worry then. I'll take good care of your sister, you can count on that." Olin's cold words lit a new fire within Hallan's soul as he fought with his bindings, snapping at the marten that stood just out of his reach, smiling at the weasel's struggles.
"Touch 'er an' die, scum!" Hallan cursed the marten, trying to free his paws, a fire burning in his eyes as he fantasized about ripping Olin to shreds.
"Very good last words I must say, but I do believe that we best get on with it. Wouldn't you say?" Olin replied with a calm demeanor, cold eyes staring back into Hallan's own, as the weasel calmed down a bit, his snarls of rage quieting into a soft growls. "Begin." The marten gave the order, his eyes narrowing in hate as he stepped away from the weasel into the crowds of beasts who once again broke into cheers as the stoat began to pile the kindling around Hallan's ankles.
"Shale." A voice whispered from behind the small weasel maid, glancing back she found a rat there, a nervous look upon his face. "Stay silent little one, I'll have ye out o' 'ere soon."
"Hurry up, Jon. Ye haven't much time." Kyin whispered quietly out of the corner of his mouth, his eyes staring at the weasel, as the wood was piled ever higher until it was up around Hallan's waist.
"Burn me lovely!" Shouts and jeers could be heard from Olin's side of the execution as the stoat lifted a flaming torch from the small fire, holding it up before the crowd, putting on the show that Olin wanted. The pine marten was trying to work his horde into a ravenous mob and so far it was working, a bloodlust had spread over the scum.
"C'mon we have to go now, Shale." Jon whispered, tugging at the maid's shirtsleeve as she stood, rooted to the spot, staring at her brother's execution, watching as the flames were put to the kindling, igniting them quickly. The weasel's breathing was heavy as he felt the flames lick his foot paws and legs, burning away his fur, he grimaced in pain, gritting his teeth so he would not scream, so he would not give the marten that pleasure.
"Shale, you have to go." Kyin whispered to the young weasel maid, who stared at her brother, feeling his pain as she felt her heart being torn out, the remainder of her family dying before her eyes. "Shale, look at me." The weasel maid tore her eyes away from the flames to glance into Kyin's eyes, they were filled with the same pain and anger that she felt. "Hallan would want it this way, you have to live, for him." Shale bit her lip and nodded in response, burying the pain below as Jon lifted the maid and ran off into the forest.
"Prisoner escape!!" A cry went up from the slave guards, one of them had seen Jon's crime and suddenly the horde disintegrated into chaos as beasts rushed to get their weapons ready. Jon ran, the maid on his back as a hail of arrows rained down behind them, none of them hitting anything more then bark or earth.
"Gather the trackers and get them!" Olin screamed out in frustration, waving the sword of Martin about in anger, as he stared at the retreating form of his former slave. Suddenly the marten glanced back to the execution to find the fire burning brightly and their captive missing, his bonds lying on the ground, bits of burnt flesh and ash creating a trail off into the forest.
"Sir, the tracker's are ready." A young rat materialized beside the warlord, saluting smartly as he stood before a dozen or so beasts, all of them armed to the teeth. Glancing at the forest for a moment the warlord appeared to pause for a moment, deep in thought, before he answered the rat.
"Forget it, we do not have time for such things." The marten said, a calm demeanor reasserting itself over Olin as he called for his captain. "Gather everybeast and get the camp packed up, we march on Redwall tonight!"
Meanwhile, off in the forest, the vixen watched with a smile upon her face before she disappeared into the shadows. Everything was going as planned.