Redwall is owned by Brian Jaques.
The Way of the Warrior
Martin of Redwall gazed out over the walltop at the swiftly coming dawn. Heaving the sack over his
shoulder, he walked slugishly down the steps towards the main wallgate, slipping silently out into the morn.
He knew what his intentions were. Reaching inside his tunic, Martin felt at the bundle surrounding his
shrewblade, the same he had used to kill Badrang the Tyrant.
Brome of Noonvale raised his axe high, bringing it down with deadly accuracy on the wood. It was late
evening and his wife wanted wood for a fire. He lived on the edge of Noonvale, away from the hustle of daily
life in the peaceful haven. Brome gathered the wood up in his arms and turned.
The wood clattered to the earth. Brome fought to control his awe at the sight. Out of the trees emerged
a lone mouse. Martin was some seasons older than Brome recalled, but it did not shake his recognition of the
warrior.
"Martin......."
The warrior paid him no heed, though for an instant Brome saw the recognition on his face. Instead
Martin kept on past the younger mouse, heading towards the heart of Noonvale.
"Daddy....?" Brome turned to see a mousemaid peeping out through the doorway of his home. "Who was that
mouse?"
"A great warrior. One who vowed never to return here. He must have a reason."
The grave of Laterose was not hard to find. It was in the center of Noonvale, marked by a lone granite
stone, and by a rosebush with a single rose in bloom. It was red, the color of blood, of anger, love, lust,
passion, and too many other things. Martin stood over the grave, watched keenly by the surrounding
inhabitants. Some recognized him and bowed their heads, leaving the warrior to his grief.
"It has been many seasons, Martin the Warrior." Martin swiveled slowly, meeting her gaze.
"Aryah. It has been long." The leader smiled.
"Too long. Urran Voh passed two seasons ago. What brings you to Noonvale?"
"An oath not kept." Aryah nodded.
"Come with me." She led him away, to a spot beside the waterfall.
Flashback
Martin reached out, wiping the teardew from Aryah's cheek. "I will take far greater care protecting her
life than I will my own."
End Flashback
Martin knelt before her, bowing his head. "I broke my oath to you."
"It wasn't your fault--" he cut her off.
"Yes it was! I said to you that I would protect her life over mine, but she died and I'm still here.
I have carried this burden too long Aryah, I will bear it no more!"
Martin drew the small blade from his tunic, unwrapping it gently, cradling it as though it alone
sustained him.
Closing his eyes, martin raised the naked blade to his throat. "I'll give your regards to Rose."
Aryah was unable to move as she watched the warrior draw the blade across his throat.
Owari
The Way of the Warrior
Martin of Redwall gazed out over the walltop at the swiftly coming dawn. Heaving the sack over his
shoulder, he walked slugishly down the steps towards the main wallgate, slipping silently out into the morn.
He knew what his intentions were. Reaching inside his tunic, Martin felt at the bundle surrounding his
shrewblade, the same he had used to kill Badrang the Tyrant.
Brome of Noonvale raised his axe high, bringing it down with deadly accuracy on the wood. It was late
evening and his wife wanted wood for a fire. He lived on the edge of Noonvale, away from the hustle of daily
life in the peaceful haven. Brome gathered the wood up in his arms and turned.
The wood clattered to the earth. Brome fought to control his awe at the sight. Out of the trees emerged
a lone mouse. Martin was some seasons older than Brome recalled, but it did not shake his recognition of the
warrior.
"Martin......."
The warrior paid him no heed, though for an instant Brome saw the recognition on his face. Instead
Martin kept on past the younger mouse, heading towards the heart of Noonvale.
"Daddy....?" Brome turned to see a mousemaid peeping out through the doorway of his home. "Who was that
mouse?"
"A great warrior. One who vowed never to return here. He must have a reason."
The grave of Laterose was not hard to find. It was in the center of Noonvale, marked by a lone granite
stone, and by a rosebush with a single rose in bloom. It was red, the color of blood, of anger, love, lust,
passion, and too many other things. Martin stood over the grave, watched keenly by the surrounding
inhabitants. Some recognized him and bowed their heads, leaving the warrior to his grief.
"It has been many seasons, Martin the Warrior." Martin swiveled slowly, meeting her gaze.
"Aryah. It has been long." The leader smiled.
"Too long. Urran Voh passed two seasons ago. What brings you to Noonvale?"
"An oath not kept." Aryah nodded.
"Come with me." She led him away, to a spot beside the waterfall.
Flashback
Martin reached out, wiping the teardew from Aryah's cheek. "I will take far greater care protecting her
life than I will my own."
End Flashback
Martin knelt before her, bowing his head. "I broke my oath to you."
"It wasn't your fault--" he cut her off.
"Yes it was! I said to you that I would protect her life over mine, but she died and I'm still here.
I have carried this burden too long Aryah, I will bear it no more!"
Martin drew the small blade from his tunic, unwrapping it gently, cradling it as though it alone
sustained him.
Closing his eyes, martin raised the naked blade to his throat. "I'll give your regards to Rose."
Aryah was unable to move as she watched the warrior draw the blade across his throat.
Owari