Chapter Four

It did not take long for Sky and Kyra to return to the compound after their adventure with MacPhearsome. The two slunk towards the area where all the slaves were gathered. The shelter was rather pitiful, Kyra noted as she observed it in the pale moonlight that now shone over Fortguard and the entire Island.

It was simply a shamble of broken sticks and twigs and tools scattered around a rather flimsy looking roof and walls. It looked more like a cardboard box than a shelter, but nonetheless, the slaves all lived there.

Kyra did not want to try and picture the scene that might greet them on the inside of this place, a ragtag group of infants and oldbeasts alike, clinging to each other, sniffing curiously about the shelter and compound for food, even though there was no food to be found. A world like this was not a world that Kyra wished others to live in. That was why she had to change things.

The ottermaid cast Sky a glance and raised an eyebrow. In a soft voice, she whispered a question that had been jumping about in her mind for the past few moments. "How're we going to do it?" The question was simple, only six words or so, but those words carried a meaning that was deeper than any Kyra had spoken in a very long time.

Sky knew this. Kyra's meaning was plain enough. How were they going to get the slaves to join forces with them, how were they going to get the other pitiful and subservient slaves to join them in arms? How were they possibly going to convince a pitiful group of starved slaves to charge against fully trained and armed horderats that they had been forced to bow to all their lives?

Sky didn't know. The haremaid waggled her ears and twitched her nose comically, trying to lighten the mood. She did not succeed unfortunately. Kyra was simply not to be cheered by such endeavors. Once the ottermaid latched onto an idea, she never let go of it until it was fully formed and had been put into action.

Sky sighed, and shook her head at her friend. "I dunno, Kys. I dunno. Should we just outright tell 'em, or should we wait 'till MacPhearsome comes back? Should we not tell 'em at all 'till the attack? What can we possibly do to convince them to join us?"

Kyra shrugged, lifting a sore paw to her face, scratching nonchalantly at an insect bite that had been gained during the journey to MacPhearsome's Cage.

"Well," she said at great length, trying to think before she spoke, "we can't just hand 'em weapons an' say, 'C'mon you sloppy lot, let's go out there an' fight some horderats for our freedom!' They'll think we're crazy. We've got to tell 'em."

"The problem is," she said, pausing, "that they might not want to rebel. They might be too scared to do summat like this, y'know? And we'd also have to be careful of spies an' leaks. Even beasts who mean well might let sommat slip."

"We'll have to trust them," Sky stated firmly. "We don't know how long MacPhearsome will take. We might need their cooperation to communicate with the bally great Thingummy when he gets here, wot. Besides, they might need time to get used to the idea that we're goin' to rebel, whether they want to join us or not."

Sky looked at Kyra, her expression displaying a worried, haggard look. "We will rebel, won't we, Kys? I'm not goin' to let these flippin' vermin cads order me around all of my life, doncha know! Not the Salamandastron way, wot! I can't live like this, Kyra. Can't live th'slave's life for too long. My spirit isn't meant to be abused. It can't survive."

Kyra nodded, understanding perfectly. "Y'know Sky," she said wistfully and with a note of nostalgia in her tone, "you prolly feel th'same way H'I do, mate. I feel like I'm in a cage. It ain't got any visible walls or doors. Well, mebbe the Slave Compound has walls an' doors, but those aren't the type H'I mean. I mean th'kind that hate c'n put around your soul. Goodbeast's souls aren't meant to be kept in cages all the time. They're meant to be free so they c'n soar and dance in the clouds."

Kyra stopped, thinking about what she had just said. "Who'da thought. Me, talking in poetic phrases..."

Sky grinned at her. "Ah, Kys, t'wasn't that bad. Jolly good thing to lift up the spirits, eh eh. Use it on the slaves when we talk to the blighters. They'll need flowery rot like that to keep their spirits up when times are low... and yes, I fear that times shall be very low in th'near future. No point in denying it, wot."

Kyra smiled, trying to numb the emotions rising in her chest. They were a dreadful mix indeed. She was worried, worried that they would be caught, worried that MacPhearsome would betray them, or that he might not get the message through. She was worried about the slaves reaction to the rebellion they were planning, and she was worried about her own fate if it should fail.

Would Mavarl torture her in ways beyond her comprehension? Would she die fighting gallantly as a warrior? She hoped so. Kyra thought about this. If she was to die, she finally decided, than she was going to die like a true warrior and a fighter that would have made her father proud.

Simply thinking about her father and the rest of the family that she had left behind brought on another and entirely different onslaught of emotions and she quickly tried to dismiss these thoughts. Sky put a reassuring paw on the ottermaid's shoulder. Sky often worried about Kyra, and she knew that Kyra often worried about her too.

Still, the two friends could do little to comfort each other on the whole. There was just so much sadness to try and forget. . . so much sadness to try and ignore. . . Sky sighed. It was hard to numb emotions, especially really painful ones. Unfortunately, really painful emotions were common in the lives of the slaves at Fortguard.

And so, the slaves had learned to harden their hearts and to try to keep faith despite the oppressive and painful society that they lived in. Sky did not think of these things though. She had had season after season to consider and fully digest them. She was now sick of the taste that they brought to her mouth.

She sighed, grinning slightly. Kyra couldn't help it, and grinned back. "C'mon, Kys," Sky urged her friend. "Cheer up. . . for them. They need us, you 'n me. They need us, and we can't act like a dizzy family of dormice after too much October Ale, wot!"

Kyra's grin widened. "Aye. Or like a family of 'edge'ogs that was sentenced to death by drownin' in Strawberry Cordial or Dannelion Fizz." She paused to try and prevent the giggles that were straining to free themselves from the recesses of her throat.

"We've got to stay strong for those slaves so they c'n see what it's like to drown in any drink of their choice. Imagine never tastin' October Ale! I couldn't imagine life without it, c'd you, matey?"

Sky shook her head. "I certainly couldn't! Now, it's our job to make sure those slaves get at taste of the bally wonderful stuff! Y'can't live life without it, to be sure, eh wot! It's our duty as Warriors and Just Creatures to make sure that those elders get a taste of October Ale to wet their whiskers before long instead of a sip of water. Redwall's got food apleanty. We'll bring 'em there."

At the mention of Redwall, Kyra grew silent. She had never yet been to Redwall in all her seasons, though she had known about it from earliest childhood. Redwall was in many of the lessons that she had been taught as a dibbun, and it was even a part of her own Granddam and Grandsire's tale. Also, Sky had been there as a babe, though only for visits.

Kyra loved listening to the haremaid paint a portrait of the glorious place with her words and what few memories she could cobble together. Kyra looked over at her friend imploringly, her eyes begging for more of the stories that Sky told. They were one of the things that kept her morale and hopes high, even in the dark nights at Fortguard. "Please Sky," she asked softly, "tell me about Redwall."

Sky sighed, rolling her eyes in mock exasperation. "But I've told you about th' Abbey more times than both you and I can remember. You've bally well heard my stories enough times to last you three lifetimes, wot! Get on with you, ruddertail, and let's get back to the compound. Kyra, you've heard my stories so many times that I bally well think you've memorized every bloody one. Go an' tell 'em to yourself."

Kyra shook her head. "I never get tired of your stories of Redwall, Sky," Kyra stated simply. "Please tell one to me. Please? Just one long enough to get me to the compound. You may think your stories are pointless rubbish of the past, but they aren't to me." She looked Sky straight in her warm gray eyes.

"They give me hope. They tell me that there is a place where creatures are peaceful and free to do as they choose. You won't deny me a bit of hope, Sky, will ye? Don' go an' be all sore about it. If anyone needs hope right now, it's us. We're the ones leading this crazy rebellion scheme, y'know. We're most likely going to die."

Sky snorted. "Better death than this," she spat, gesticulating at the rubbish that lay scattered about the pair of them. "Filth, slavery, torture, I'd sooner be rid of it all. But, if you insist, I'll tell you a story while we walk, Kys. No more though, y'great greedy riverdog. We have work to do tonight."

Kyra looked at the haremaid uneasily. "Do we have to do it tonight? I'm still not sure-"

Sky cut her off. "Do shut up, Water walloper" And then, the two were at the compound. Sky grinned at her smugly. "Ha! Y'don't get a story, Kyra. We're already there." Kyra gave Sky a pathetically disappointed look.

Sky sighed, rolled her eyes, and grinned. "I'll tell you a story after we tell the slaves our plans. Deal, Kys?" Kyra nodded her head, smiling slightly. Around the slave compound, all of the different slaves were talking and whispering amongst themselves, eyes darting about, piercing the smothering darkness that surrounded them.

All felt a nervous tension, making the muscles in their stomachs squeeze and their heads pound slightly. Their paws never seemed to rest, but instead twirled around each other, or fumbled while trying to adjust torn up rags that were worn as tunics.

Nobeast was still. That is, nobeast except for Kyra Longfletch. She sat in a corner, looking on as the creatures began to enjoy their nightly relaxation- which didn't last long- before the slavers came in to whip them. Many were still finishing dinner, trying to draw the delicious delight of food out for as long as possible.

Still, the temptation to eat was too strong for some, and their food was completely gone. Mothers had wrapped their arms about their children, holding them close and trying to comfort them as they cried. Kyra took it all in. With a sigh, she cast a glance at her haremaid friend. "You sure we sh'd we tell 'em tonight, Sky?"

The sandy furred haremaid could only shrug, staring quietly down at the slim remainder of her own meal. "No better time than th'present, doncha know. B'sides, the sooner they know, th' better chance we have of being prepared." Sighing deeply she stands, trademark grin flashing across her face once again. "Soon we'll be free, Kyra."

Kyra shrugged, looking at the slaves, eyeing them dubiously, and with intense scrutiny. She leaned in closer to Sky, still making sure to keep a good vigil on their surroundings to make sure that no one was eavesdropping on their conversation. One slip up, and the'd be in Mavarl's dungeon instead of on a ship towards their homes.

The ottermaid looked around, casting a last furtive glance about them, and whispered, "what about spies, eh, Sky? We'll be in great trouble if we're caught. If we tell them too soon, a spy will have ample time t'report t'Mavarl. Even one of the goodbeasts might slip. Secrets get around in this place faster 'n fever does. Still... they need t'know..."

Skythistle again shrugged, shooting a quick glance around the slave complex to assure herself they were not being watched before pulling a small dagger from her tunic. Silently she began to sharpen the blade, grinning grimly. "You leave any spies t'me, Kys. Accordin' t'MacPhearsome, th'Patrols an' Otters'll be arriving soon. The slaves haveta know what to expect."

Kyra stared at the haremaid in disbelief, her eyes bugging out as she looked at the dagger. "Sky," she said in an awed voice, "how'd you get that, mate? And why by the claws of Hellthunder didn't you use it when we tried to unlock MacPhearsome's cage, y'idiot? T'would have made it a lot less painful for the both of us, using that branch instead."

Sky smirked and twirled her newly acquired dagger around in her paws. "Stole it," the haremaid said smugly. Kyra glared at the haremaid. Sky grinned rather sheepishly and adjusted her story. "Fine, y'great lump of a riverdog! I picked it up. An idiotic rat dropped it on the way to the fields. Know when I bent to pick up that branch? The big oaf kicked me and almost fell over. And I forgot I had it. . ."

Kyra glared at the haremaid and rolled her eyes. "How could you forget? And when am I gonna get my story?"

"Too late," Sky smirked as the pair continued walking. "We've reached the slave compound." Kyra sulked inwardly, but didn't comment. She knew that complaining to Sky would only make the haremaid laugh. The haremaid quickly glanced around, making sure that they weren't being watched.

Kyra joined her, and when both creatures had vigilantly scanned the area, they felt secure enough to step inside the compound. No one noticed as they entered. Kyra and Sky went straight to the center of the compound without conferring with each other first. They both knew what had to be done. They had to tell the slaves of the rebellion that they were about to cook up, and they had to tell the slaves that night.

The ottermaid blinked to clear the sudden darkness from her eyes. The huddled forms of creatures leaned against the walls, wrapped in pitiful excuses for blankets and clothing. Kyra winced, and ushered Sky in, closing the door, which kept the blinding light out. Kyra slowly gave a sharp whistle, high and shrill, and many heads turned to look at her.

Kyra motioned for silence with a paw, pressing a finger over her lips. None of the slaves protested. They were too used to following orders to object to anything, even the command of a fellow slave. The few heads that had not turned to look at Kyra and Sky had eventually focused upon the pair when they had noticed their neighbors looking. Now, all of the slaves were watching the pair intently.

Sky smiled slightly, while Kyra's face remained expressionless. "Thank you for payin' attention," Kyra said, not really knowing where to start. How was she going to make the announcement that she had to make? Where would she find the courage and the words? She took a long gulp.

"Listen, friends. There's something I need to ask you all." As Kyra spoke to the other slaves, a glint appeared in her eyes, one that had not been seen since she was young. It was the glint of determination. Her voice was soft, but each note was backed by a powerful force. Sky slid around to the back of the room, ready to catch any spies, as Kyra spoke up again.

"We've all been mistreated, beaten, bruised, even killed. . . We were taken from our homes, or born into this slavery. Now it is time to leave. I ask ye, will you fight? Every able-bodied creature who wishes to join us will be armed and taught in the ways of fighting. Those who wish to stay here..." She let the words hang in the air.

A collective shudder was felt around the room, but not from being scared; the rebellion she was planning could save them! "The reason I wanted to talk to you is. . . we- Sky and I- are going to plan a rebellion against Mavarl. I know that you all hate him, and I know that the evil rat punishes those who try and rebel. But," she continued, "this time, we have a plan, and if all goes well, we will be free!"

"We will not be the only ones to fight either! Earlier tonight, Skythistle and I rescued a large bird from Mavarl's clutches. He's been sent for reinforcements. After we are free, we plan to leave this place. All creatures will be returned to their homes. Fighting hares will take you to the mainland coasts.

"For those of you that have no home, you will be welcomed with open arms at the Abbey of Redwall, a peaceful place in Mossflower. Those who join us in the rebellion or stay out of it can go, but traitors will be left to the seagulls. Understood?"

Everyone nodded, eager to be a part in freeing themselves and their families. Kyra grinned, and managed to slip a wink at Sky. Sky let a silent chuckle slip from her lips, then stood motionless, still scanning the room for any traitors. She saw none.

The group stayed up late, discussing plans long into the night.