A/N I really want to own Redwall. Then I have an excuse for writing Redwall
every free minute of my life. Seriously. I mean, how many Redwall fics have
I written? I wrote one with pencil and paper earlier, about a year and a
half ago. It was stupid, thirty written pages front and back on collage
lined paper. It was about the strange occurrence of four Taggerungs being
born and in the separate plot, a large Juska tribe kicked out it's Seer and
left her to die. The catch? They all meet up at Redwall, who are fighting
off another Juska tribe. It was my first Redwall fanfic. But I can't post
it because I wrote it with my own hand! I can't even read my own writing!
Believe me, I tried. But even if I did copy and posted it on the computer,
I used the names of the Badger Ladies in Song of a Shadow in my first
Redwall fic. So that wouldn't work, but I'll stick with what I have.
Before that, I had written a Poke'mon (yeah, but that was actually three years ago) fanfic to amuse my friends, because I put them in there, and all that good stuff. I did post one of the stories for a while, but then deleted it, because it was the third installment in the series. So you see, Song of a Shadow wasn't my first fic. I really made Song of a Shadow for my brother to read, and because I had the main character, Shadowsong, as a wolf in all my Redwall role-plays. See? It was about in chapter four that I discovered ff.net. Now I've posted ten stories and am writing more!
I really hope you like this story. Yeah, it's going to be short, maybe three chapters, but I'll try to make each on long (for me anyway), maybe five pages each. My usual chapters are three to four pages.
Sorry for the long A/N, but I had to let it out sometime. Read and enjoy! And please review! I was ecstatic when I got 14 reviews for Seven Axes. (That was one of my favorites to write; I was sorry to see it end. TT)
Tagg's about 12 season's in this fic. I think that 12 seasons means twelve years. I mentioned that in Seven Axes.
Disclaimer: This is copyright Brian Jacques. Like I own Redwall. I type this with my paws alone, and I shall never own Redwall. I wish, though.
(Begin Chapter One)
Zann Juskarath Taggerung hurled his knife. The sinewy otter watched the blade spin and strike the target, a bird feather floating down in the air. The knife, beautifully crafted with an amber hilt and sapphire stone set on the end, thunked into the trunk of a thin elm behind the feather, pinning it to the tree.
"Wonderful, my son!" Sawney Rath, chief of the Juskarath, patted his adoptive son on the back, gloating. "You are truly the Taggerung Juska!"
One of the Juskarath, a weasel named Eefera, who was standing nearby, came up to the tree and yanked the deeply embedded dagger from the tree. After two tries, he managed to wrench the blade out of the tree, the feather attached.
"I think I'm too close to the tree," commented the Taggerung, his dark eyes gazing at the blade as Eefera handed him it, bowing and murmuring, "Zann Juskarath Taggerung" over and over again.
Sawney eyed the tree; it was about fifteen yards (A/N I'm using the American system- feet, yards, inches because I live in America, just telling you) away. "Are you sure, Tagg? You said that when you were about ten feet from it."
Tagg nodded. "I'm sure, Sawney."
Eefera gingerly picked up the goose feather and placed it flat on his paw, then blew hard, the feather whizzed in front of the tree.
The young otter stepped back about six feet, and threw the knife.
Like a sparrow, it zipped from Tagg's paw to the tree, making a deadly whistle as it whipped through the air.
Thump! The exquisite blade struck the tree in the same placed as before, deepening the mark and once again, trapping the plume to the tree.
Eefera retrieved it, wiping sap from the tree. He gave it back to the otter, keeping his eyes low. Stepping back, the weasel noticed a female stoat near the makeshift tent near the area where the Taggerung was practicing. He knew that stoat well- her son, too.
Sawney Rath clapped his paws. "Great, Tagg, son! Pinned that feather to the tree, did you see my son, Antigra?"
The female stoat, Antigra, drew her lip back. "Yes, O Sawney Rath," she muttered.
Sawney Rath watched as Tagg flung the amber-hilted knife again, striking the mark dead center. "Of course, your oaf of a son could never amount to the Taggerung, could he, stoat?"
Antigra stared at the ground in hate, pouring it all out silently. "No, Sawney Rath," she mumbled through gritted teeth.
The ferret shook his head. "Huh, he probably off chasing his tail in the woodlands. I wouldn't bother to care for that stupid lump of fur you call kin, Antigra."
She did not answer, merely stood up and started towards her tent, or sheet pulled over two high rocks. It was across the otter's throwing view, towards the thick woodlands, and she was walking when Sawney suddenly snapped, "You're in the Taggerung's way. Get out of his way, and bow to show your respect."
Tagg watched in curiosity at the stoat, who bowed and murmured, "Zann Juskarath Taggerung," and ran to her shelter.
Sawney Rath laughed, then said to Tagg, "Throw the knife again. Eefera, get the blade now!"
Sawney paused as he watched Eefera tug the blade out of the tree. "Huh, Gruven, that mindless oaf, couldn't track his own nose! My Tagg, ah, Zann. You shall go to Vallug Bowbeast next."
Tagg was staring out at the makeshift camp. "Er, yes, Sawney Rath."
Sawney peered at his Taggerung. "What is it, Tagg?"
The young otter shrugged. "I don't know. I've been having on and off dreams, ones that I can't remember."
Sawney shook his head. "Dreams don't exist, they are merely thoughts that come in sleep. They are useless!"
Tagg nodded, though his thoughts were focused on the vision he had while sleeping, where a pair of female otter were cooing over him, and a huge, protective, beast was standing nearby. They were fuzzy dreams, except the part where a mouse appeared, clad in armor, shouting the words, "Deyna! Deyna!" Then the dream ended, leaving Tagg to his daily life at the Juskarath camp.
(Five minutes later)
Vallug Bowbeast nodded. "That's right, Zann- 'old that shaft tight now, and loose!"
The arrow sped from the string and thudded into the mark on the tree, a maple leaf. A cluster of arrows already surrounded it, and all of them were bunched around the middle of the leaf.
"Great 'un, Taggerung." Vallug gave another shaft to the squint-eyed otter. "Try this 'un!"
The arrow, as soon as it was notched onto the string, flew to the tree, which was about fifty feet away. It struck the target.
Tagg grinned. "I suppose a few yards more away then, Bowbeast?"
Vallug secretly didn't like the Taggerung- he seemed too strong, like Sawney Rath's father. Hiding this emotion, he pointed with a single paw towards a far away oak tree. "Aye, that 'un."
The arrow, which Vallug had handed him, took off and smashed into the tree, snapping the arrow in half.
"I guess that tree wood was too hard, Vallug," commented Tagg slowly. "A softer timber, perhaps?"
Vallug almost couldn't hold his paws straight- they were shaking. Instead, he nodded towards Sawney Rath, who was talking to the clan Seer, Grissoul. "Go to the vixen and Sawney, Zann. 'Most time for vittles."
Tagg dropped the bow and ran to the tent. Vallug picked up the bow with shaking paws. This Taggerung was stronger and a matched shot with him, the best bowbeast in the tribe. It was his skill in archery that gave rise to his second name; Bowbeast.
Vallug went back to his tent, thinking deeply. He had much to think about.
(End chapter one)
A/N Ah, the joys of writing. I can write for two hours and think it has been two minutes. And it really has been two hours. I think...
Please read and review! Wait, you already read. Then review please! I will feed all my writers ramen! (starts handing out ramen packets) Chicken flavor is the best. Then oriental.
Tagg: You're getting off subject.
Shadowsong: So....
Please review!
Before that, I had written a Poke'mon (yeah, but that was actually three years ago) fanfic to amuse my friends, because I put them in there, and all that good stuff. I did post one of the stories for a while, but then deleted it, because it was the third installment in the series. So you see, Song of a Shadow wasn't my first fic. I really made Song of a Shadow for my brother to read, and because I had the main character, Shadowsong, as a wolf in all my Redwall role-plays. See? It was about in chapter four that I discovered ff.net. Now I've posted ten stories and am writing more!
I really hope you like this story. Yeah, it's going to be short, maybe three chapters, but I'll try to make each on long (for me anyway), maybe five pages each. My usual chapters are three to four pages.
Sorry for the long A/N, but I had to let it out sometime. Read and enjoy! And please review! I was ecstatic when I got 14 reviews for Seven Axes. (That was one of my favorites to write; I was sorry to see it end. TT)
Tagg's about 12 season's in this fic. I think that 12 seasons means twelve years. I mentioned that in Seven Axes.
Disclaimer: This is copyright Brian Jacques. Like I own Redwall. I type this with my paws alone, and I shall never own Redwall. I wish, though.
(Begin Chapter One)
Zann Juskarath Taggerung hurled his knife. The sinewy otter watched the blade spin and strike the target, a bird feather floating down in the air. The knife, beautifully crafted with an amber hilt and sapphire stone set on the end, thunked into the trunk of a thin elm behind the feather, pinning it to the tree.
"Wonderful, my son!" Sawney Rath, chief of the Juskarath, patted his adoptive son on the back, gloating. "You are truly the Taggerung Juska!"
One of the Juskarath, a weasel named Eefera, who was standing nearby, came up to the tree and yanked the deeply embedded dagger from the tree. After two tries, he managed to wrench the blade out of the tree, the feather attached.
"I think I'm too close to the tree," commented the Taggerung, his dark eyes gazing at the blade as Eefera handed him it, bowing and murmuring, "Zann Juskarath Taggerung" over and over again.
Sawney eyed the tree; it was about fifteen yards (A/N I'm using the American system- feet, yards, inches because I live in America, just telling you) away. "Are you sure, Tagg? You said that when you were about ten feet from it."
Tagg nodded. "I'm sure, Sawney."
Eefera gingerly picked up the goose feather and placed it flat on his paw, then blew hard, the feather whizzed in front of the tree.
The young otter stepped back about six feet, and threw the knife.
Like a sparrow, it zipped from Tagg's paw to the tree, making a deadly whistle as it whipped through the air.
Thump! The exquisite blade struck the tree in the same placed as before, deepening the mark and once again, trapping the plume to the tree.
Eefera retrieved it, wiping sap from the tree. He gave it back to the otter, keeping his eyes low. Stepping back, the weasel noticed a female stoat near the makeshift tent near the area where the Taggerung was practicing. He knew that stoat well- her son, too.
Sawney Rath clapped his paws. "Great, Tagg, son! Pinned that feather to the tree, did you see my son, Antigra?"
The female stoat, Antigra, drew her lip back. "Yes, O Sawney Rath," she muttered.
Sawney Rath watched as Tagg flung the amber-hilted knife again, striking the mark dead center. "Of course, your oaf of a son could never amount to the Taggerung, could he, stoat?"
Antigra stared at the ground in hate, pouring it all out silently. "No, Sawney Rath," she mumbled through gritted teeth.
The ferret shook his head. "Huh, he probably off chasing his tail in the woodlands. I wouldn't bother to care for that stupid lump of fur you call kin, Antigra."
She did not answer, merely stood up and started towards her tent, or sheet pulled over two high rocks. It was across the otter's throwing view, towards the thick woodlands, and she was walking when Sawney suddenly snapped, "You're in the Taggerung's way. Get out of his way, and bow to show your respect."
Tagg watched in curiosity at the stoat, who bowed and murmured, "Zann Juskarath Taggerung," and ran to her shelter.
Sawney Rath laughed, then said to Tagg, "Throw the knife again. Eefera, get the blade now!"
Sawney paused as he watched Eefera tug the blade out of the tree. "Huh, Gruven, that mindless oaf, couldn't track his own nose! My Tagg, ah, Zann. You shall go to Vallug Bowbeast next."
Tagg was staring out at the makeshift camp. "Er, yes, Sawney Rath."
Sawney peered at his Taggerung. "What is it, Tagg?"
The young otter shrugged. "I don't know. I've been having on and off dreams, ones that I can't remember."
Sawney shook his head. "Dreams don't exist, they are merely thoughts that come in sleep. They are useless!"
Tagg nodded, though his thoughts were focused on the vision he had while sleeping, where a pair of female otter were cooing over him, and a huge, protective, beast was standing nearby. They were fuzzy dreams, except the part where a mouse appeared, clad in armor, shouting the words, "Deyna! Deyna!" Then the dream ended, leaving Tagg to his daily life at the Juskarath camp.
(Five minutes later)
Vallug Bowbeast nodded. "That's right, Zann- 'old that shaft tight now, and loose!"
The arrow sped from the string and thudded into the mark on the tree, a maple leaf. A cluster of arrows already surrounded it, and all of them were bunched around the middle of the leaf.
"Great 'un, Taggerung." Vallug gave another shaft to the squint-eyed otter. "Try this 'un!"
The arrow, as soon as it was notched onto the string, flew to the tree, which was about fifty feet away. It struck the target.
Tagg grinned. "I suppose a few yards more away then, Bowbeast?"
Vallug secretly didn't like the Taggerung- he seemed too strong, like Sawney Rath's father. Hiding this emotion, he pointed with a single paw towards a far away oak tree. "Aye, that 'un."
The arrow, which Vallug had handed him, took off and smashed into the tree, snapping the arrow in half.
"I guess that tree wood was too hard, Vallug," commented Tagg slowly. "A softer timber, perhaps?"
Vallug almost couldn't hold his paws straight- they were shaking. Instead, he nodded towards Sawney Rath, who was talking to the clan Seer, Grissoul. "Go to the vixen and Sawney, Zann. 'Most time for vittles."
Tagg dropped the bow and ran to the tent. Vallug picked up the bow with shaking paws. This Taggerung was stronger and a matched shot with him, the best bowbeast in the tribe. It was his skill in archery that gave rise to his second name; Bowbeast.
Vallug went back to his tent, thinking deeply. He had much to think about.
(End chapter one)
A/N Ah, the joys of writing. I can write for two hours and think it has been two minutes. And it really has been two hours. I think...
Please read and review! Wait, you already read. Then review please! I will feed all my writers ramen! (starts handing out ramen packets) Chicken flavor is the best. Then oriental.
Tagg: You're getting off subject.
Shadowsong: So....
Please review!