Chapter Five

MacPhearsome squinted, his large tawny eyes straining to see where he was. The great eagle was soaring over the ocean through thick sheets of rain, looking downwards and hoping to find a place to rest. The diving droplets of life-giving rain had seemed more of a curse than a blessing to the great golden-feathered bird.

The storm had started a few hours earlier, and had not let up since it had begun. The heavy rain came down in torrents as the mighty eagle crossed the wide blue sea, making his journey a great deal harder than it should have been. But MacPhearsome hadn't allowed himself to think of stopping to wait out the storm.

Though the rain had been a continuous burden for the eagle to bear during his flight, he had simply clacked his beak and had ridden out the storm as best he could. The mighty bird had ignored the falling missiles from the celestial heavens above. He would not give up.

MacPhearsome kept himself going, concentrating on each wingbeat, straining to fly farther and farther forwards through the rain. Visibility was awful. For perhaps the first time ever, the great golden eagle had blessed the lightning. The dark sky was almost impossible to see through, and a great fog had formed in the middle of the sea, hindering visibility even more than the rain did.

The lightning offered brief flashes of illumination and these allowed him to quickly glimpse the terrain ahead. Normally, MacPhearsome would never have considered flying in such weather, but, this was a special circumstance. What else could he do? Storms at sea were common enough, even though they were deadly, and he had to press on.

No matter how much his instincts told him to land, MacPhearsome kept to the air, beating his wings against the storm, challenging the sea and heavens above to do their worst. He had to continue onwards. The slaves were depending on him, and besides, wouldn't this get him what he wanted? Revenge on Mavarl?

Ah, Mavarl. The thought of the rat- or, more specifically, the rat's death- had been the only thing that had kept MacPhearsome going. With each wingbeat he took, the eagle thought of Mavarl being shot down by arrows, being tortured, being whipped by his own slaves, being torn apart by his talons, and being killed in every other way imaginable.

These mental images gave him the strength to carry on with his dangerous mission. The journey had taken several days so far, and except for a few hours of resting wherever he had come upon an island, the great eagle had not stopped. It had been the most physically exhausting thing that he had ever attempted.

His heart pounding, his beak clacking irritably and his eyes squinted against the blinding sheets of rain that fell down upon the dark and swelling ocean below him, he continued onwards. Lifting his wings, pushing them against the wild and unpredictable winds that ran across the blue landscape that was the mighty ocean, the eagle strained his neck to see through the rain.

There wasn't even the slightest shadow in the dark horizon ahead of him that could be a far off island. He didn't even want to consider the possibility that the Mossflower Coast could be nearby. It was too much to hope for, and if his hopes were crushed. . . shaking his head to dispel such gloomy and pessimistic thoughts, the eagle squinted again.

To his surprise, he did see something that resembled a shadow. . . could it be an island? Not daring to hope for such good fortune, the eagle summoned all his energy from the depths of his bosom, flapping his wings with newfound vigor. An island! He could rest until the worst of the storm passed if there was suitable shelter to recline in.

Then again, the storm had been going on for a long time, and might still go on for a long time to come. He doubted that it would pass any time soon. It was as if some higher power was determined to keep him from reaching the coast. The storm hadn't even started until he had started his mission. Was the storm sent just to stop him?

Well, even if it had been, he wouldn't let it! Not a chance! A Wild King would never let such a pathetic thing stop him from fulfilling his duty! He would make it to the coast, come hell or high water! The eagle almost felt his heart leap into his throat as the distance between himself and the black shadow shortened. The shadow ahead was becoming more pronounced now, and was certainly an island.

He did not even dare to consider that it might be the coast that he had been so long in seeking. Flapping with a greater intensity than before, the eagle sped ahead through the storm, cutting through the dark clouds and the sheets of rain like a golden arrow.

His breathing was becoming harder now. But he couldn't stop! If he did, he would fall down into the ocean, to die in its blue-black depths. He would not die like that! He would not! He had many slaves counting on him, and he also had his revenge on Mavarl to consider. If he was going to die, he was going to die after his mission was completed!

Fighting for his life in the storm, the eagle continued flapping, using the last of his strength. And then, he saw that he was flying over the shadow. It was indeed land! And not just an island either. . . it was the coast! MacPhearsome had reached the coast of Mossflower Wood!

He tilted his golden feathered head downwards and dived, folding his wings close against his body. The great eagle pulled himself up at the last second, backs winging neatly to land on the sands near a great fortress that had been built inside a volcano. Salamandastron.

MacPhearsome waddled forwards a few paces, exhausted by his long flight over the sea. The storm that had been brewing over the dark blue waters hadn't helped him much in conserving energy. But, he would soon have somewhere dry and warm to rest his wings and to shelter from the storm.

Raising a wing to protect his head from the rain, the eagle waddled a few more paces forwards on the sand, tilting his head upwards and peering curiously at the great volcano. This must be the mountain that Sky had told him about: Salamandastron. What else could it be?

Of course, MacPhearsome had thought that he had been prepared for the sight of the famed mountain, inhabited by hares that were ruled by their badger lord, but he had never expected something so big and grand! It reminded him of his mountains back home. . . the mountains that he longed to return to some day.

Eagles were not meant to be near the sea. They lived in the wild northern mountains, where wolves and even worse things made their homes. Redwall lay in the gentle east, while out to the west, where Kyra and all of her friends were slaves, strange and deadly creatures dwelt.

The southlands weren't that friendly either. Magical foxes were said to make their home there on a secret island far out on a lake. MacPhearsome had traveled so far west that the sun had scorched his golden feathers, and so far north that icicles had hung off of his wingtips.

He had flown so far south that he had passed over the great lake with its island, and so far east that he had stumbled into the plains and meadowlands where other birds of prey lived. Salamandastron, slightly to the north and the west of Redwall Abbey, was a place he had heard about in great detail, though he hadn't ever veered his traveling courses to see it for himself.

After resting another moment to recuperate from his exhausting flight, the eagle waddled forwards, feet sinking slightly in the damp sands that covered the beach on which the inactive volcano known as Salamandastron was situated. The rain soon washed away the deep and muddy footprints quickly. The storm hadn't calmed in the least since MacPhearsome had landed.

Soon, the eagle reached the great stone door that led inside the Fortress of Salamandastron. He looked up, trying to see through the blinding rain that poured down upon his body. The wing that he had been holding above his head to keep off the rain fell limply at his site. He was too tired to waste any of his remaining energy keeping it up.

Taking a deep breath, coughing after the attempt as rain fell into his beak, he called out to whoever might be in a position to hear him. If nobeast answered, he would have to wait out the storm without shelter. "Hallo? Is anybeast up there, nau? Ah be MacPhearsome, Wild King O' the Northern Mountains, d'ye ken?" The eagle waited for some moments, hoping for a response.

All was silent except for the rain pattering on the sand and the sound of the waves crashing against the beach. He waited for an even longer length of time. Still, no sound graced his ears from the mountain fortress. No hare opened the gates to let him in to the mountain. No friendly paw beckoned him in out of the storm.

The golden eagle had a very short amount of patience, and was starting to get a little angry at being ignored. He was MacPhearsome, Wild King of the Northern Mountains with important news for the Badger Lord, and the residents of the acursed Mountain of Salamandastron weren't paying him any heed! The infuriated eagle did not even consider the fact that nobeast was present in this weather to hear his curtly given greeting.

Puffing up his brawny chest, the eagle bellowed out his message again through the howling, whistling winds. "Are ye daft, harebeasties?" he called up, shouting even louder than before in his strange northern accent. "Can ye not hear me callin' tah ye way up there? Are those silly long ears that ye always carry on your heads good for nothing at all?"

He waited. And waited. And waited. There was not any sound but the rain for a long while. Figuring that the spot on which he stood was as good as any to spend the night in, the eagle remained where he was, tucking his head under his wing to keep out the rain. He closed his eyes, sleep about to take over. . . and then, the stone door that led into Salamandastron creaked slowly open.

The great eagle started awake, eyes wide and pupils dilated. He eagerly ran forwards, wanting to get out of the storm that still raged onwards outside in the heavens, high above the wine dark sea. The great eagle made sure that he was completely inside and safe from the downpour and shook his feathers before looking at the three hares that stood gawking at him.

Before the eagle could collect himself, a dark furred hare stepped forwards, waggling his ears and twitching his nose in a comical manner. This hare, like others, was tall and lanky, though his appearance clearly showed that he was strong and well muscled.

The hare carried a finely crafted saber at his hip, and he let it rest casually in its scabbard, pressing softly against his clean white tunic. The impression he gave was one of a well-organized officer. . . which he was.

"I say, ol' chap," the dark haired hare stated in a drawling tone, "we bally well heard you out there. I an' my friends here were just debating' on whether to let a rude chap like yourself in, doncha know! We weren't sure whether we wanted foul-mouthed an' equally foul-tempered birds in here, laddie buck! Silly long ears indeed, eh wot! Now, MacThingummy- couldn't hear your name clearly with you shoutin' it through the rain and all, wot- come an' tell th' bally Badger Lord what you want so you can stop drippin' on our bloomin' floor!"

MacPhearsome glared, but before he could speak, another of the three hares stepped forwards as the third closed the door behind them. The one that had approached the eagle had light creamy brown fur, and she waggled her ears even more comically than the first. She was obviously higher in rank than the first hare, and silenced him with a mere glance.

Taking the dangerous officer's hint, the hare backed down. This female also carried a saber at her side, and her tunic was just as white. "Oh shuddup Kip! Take the blinkin' bird to Lord Seastripe before he bites your nose off. Actually, with your limited brains, I should take him there. Smart as well as beautiful, doncha know! Just kidding, ol' bean."

"Well, the first hare continued, "the bally Badger Lord'll certainly want t'see this chap. An' by the way, MacPhearsome, th'only reason we couldn't let you in earlier was because our guard went to the kitchens for a snack an' abandoned his post!"

The second hare winked and gestured with one paw towards the hare that had closed the door behind them. The storm was now just a dull roar outside, and MacPhearsome was beginning to feel much better now that he was out of the pouring rain.

The hare was taller than his two friends were, and his fur was slightly red. "Greetings, ol' bean. How are you? Good Heavens! You're a big ol' feller aren't you? Never seen a blinkin' bird the size of you in all my seasons!"

MacPhearsome eyed him, somewhat annoyed. "Yah need no' talk tah me as if ahm naught bu' a wee bairn, laddie. Ah can understand yeh perfectly. I've had dealin's wi' harebeasts afore now. Act'ly, that's why ah've come here. I made a bargain with a haremaiden an' an ottermaid who need your help. Nau, would yah be so kind as tah take me tae yer Badger Lord?"

The hares stopped talking, and the first male hare stepped forwards again to make the introductions. "Well then, MacWhatsyourname, I'll take you there immediately after we've introduced ourselves, eh wot! I'm Lieutenant Kipeau at y'service. Kip for short, eh wot! This pretty lass here is Cap'n Clairethye."

Clairethye smiled at MacPhearsome and gave him a neat, elegant leg to show her respect. The youngest hare, the one that had abandoned his post, attempted to imitate her and almost fell over. Claire laughed inwardly and lifted him up, whereupon the youngster gave a simpler, short bow.

Kip didn't seem to notice. "Call her Claire. Does things you couldn't imagine with a saber, doncha know! And this lad just came in from his duties. He stuck around 'cause he couldn't keep his nose out of officer business, right Skariuskunk?"

The young hare shook his head. Even though he was the other two officers junior by several seasons, he towered above them both. "Couldn't resist Lieutenant Kip sah! Had to see the blinkin' great bird, doncha know!"

The Captain glared at him, and his ears drooped. MacPhearsome sat rather patiently through the arguing and scolding and introducing, but he was beginning to grow rather restless, and he hastened to inform the hares. He did not speak, but shot a quick glance towards a nearby stair case and shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

Kipeau noticed this and tried to end the argument that Claire was having with Skariuskunk. "C'mon, Claire m'dear! Don't be so hard on young Skari over there. Great Seasons, you have a heart as hard as stone sometimes!" Claire said not a word to the Lieutenant, but walked a few paces down the path with long, well muscled legs.

MacPhearsome started to follow her. Skari and Kip walked behind them as Claire led the trio to Lord Seastripe, Badger Lord of all Salamandastron and the Western Coast.

A few minutes later, after climbing several winding staircases and ramps, MacPhearsome, along with the three hares, stopped in front of a door. "There you are, MacWhatsyourname!" said Claire. She had cheered up considerably. Hares do not often stay quiet for long.

"Lord Seastripe is inside," Kip said, "workin' on Badger Lord Type stuff. I think th' Cap'n and I will stay. We'll listen t'your proposition, birdy!"

Now," Claire said as she turned to Skari, "Off with you, young rip!" Skari's ears drooped again, and he looked as if he were about to protest, when Claire whispered something in his ear. The young hares face lit up, and he ran off down the stairs, taking the steps in leaps and bounds.

MacPhearsome, Kip, and Claire all burst out laughing as he tripped at the bottom of the staircase. The young hare picked himself up and continued running until he was out of sight.

The Lieutenants face was a slight shade of purple from laughing and from lack of air. He grinned down at Claire and chuckled as he spoke. "Whoahahahaha! I say, ol' gel, what did you tell that young scallyw- Wahahehehehe! 'Scuse me. What did you tell Skari to get him to ru- ru Woahahahaha! To run away so bloomin fast?" MacPhearsome watched, tears of laughter trickling down his feathered cheeks.

"I simply told him," Claire said, rather smugly, "that Mooneye was bakin' scones in the kitchens an' was givin' 'em away!" At this, all three of them burst out into fresh gales of laughter. When they had composed themselves, Claire raised a paw and knocked loudly on the heavy oaken door in front of them.

She waggled her ears and tried to suppress giggles as she called through the door. "I say, M'Lord Seastripe, we've got a bloomin' golden eagle-type chap out here who wants to talk to you. Found him drownin' out in the rain, doncha know!"

The door creaked open and a large, heavily built badger held it ajar as the hares and MacPhearsome trooped inside. Both Claire and Kip saluted smartly to Lord Seastripe before standing at attention on the other side of the doorway while MacPhearsome entered. He had been behind them in the corridor.

It was only after he had entered the candlelit room that MacPhearsome got a good look at Lord Seastripe. The badger looked relatively normal, as badgers went. Well muscled, large, and very stripy. There was one odd thing about him though.

On his head, where a white stripe should have run between his ears, sat a bright blue stripe instead. The Badger had dyed that, and some of the markings on his neck, a bright sky blue color. Lord Seastripe shut the door firmly, and took a seat in a large armchair at one end of the room.

The room was medium sized, with one large chair to the left of the fireplace on the back wall, and two smaller chairs across on the right. The Officers took both of these chairs, while MacPhearsome stood in between them, since the chairs would not have suited him, being an eagle and all.

"Well now," Lord Seastripe said, lifting his large black-and-blue head. "Would you be so good as to tell me who you are and why you've come? Since Kip and Claire were good enough to bring you straight to me, I take it you aren't just here for a visit." MacPhearsome nodded gravely, and answered the Badger Lords questions as quickly as he could.

"Weel nau, Ahm MacPhearsome th' Tenth, Wild King o' th' Northern Mountains. A little while back, a rat tyrant by the name o' Mavarl thought t'would be nice tah capture me on one of his inland journeys and throw me in a cage. He brought me on his ship, an' took me tah his Castle.

"Ah have been there for a good long time, nau, bein' poked at wi' spears an' such. Not t'mention bein' starved! T'wasn't very nice. I still hate th' vile rodent, so I do! Bu' I won' get intah that. Tha point is, ah was in a bloody cage when a wee H'Ottermaid named Kyra Longfletch an' her friend Skythistle Mornin'dew Meadowsong got me out.

"They are slaves tah th' rat tyrant there. Weel, those two lassies set me free, an' made me promise tah get them help from Salamandastron, an' from th' Ottermaids 'olt while they lead a rebellion. An' so, I'm here!"

Lord Seastripe nodded gravely and took a moment before answering the Eagle's comment. "Aye, we here at Salamandastron know of Mavarl the Tyrant," he said, as if the name of the rat warlord tasted foul on his tongue. "He's marauded many peaceful communities here on the western coast. Can you, MacPhearsome, guide us to this Island? I don't recognize the name of Skythistle at the moment, but. . ."

Claire coughed, and neatly interrupted Lord Seastripe. "Well, pardon me for interruptin, sah, but I know Sky! She wasn't but a leveret when I last saw her. Ran away an' never came back. I knew her mother, rest her poor soul, but the poor dear died, and her father. . . her father disappeared before Sky was even born while he was out on Patrol. Cap'n Woodshire Meadowsong was his name. I know Sky because I acted as her nursemaid after her parents died. Took care of her and all. She wanted to be a Long Patrol fighting hare, like I did. When I got accepted, she wanted to come with me."

Seastripe nodded. "I remember now; the mention of Woodshire brings it all back. I actually know Kyra too! That young maid was a dibbun when she disappeared. Well, we know what's happened to her now. I knew her father as well. Skipper Ironjaw of the Sea Otters. I was actually invited up to Holt Ruddaring, where she's from, when she and her twin brother Ronil were born! Such a sweet little maid, but I'll wager she's not so sweet now."

Kip smiled. "I 'member that jolly great party, but I fear I don't remember either of the Ruddaring Twins! The Shrimp and Bulrush soup was amazin' though." Claire shot the Lieutenant a nasty look, and he stopped talking. The four beasts continued talking long into the night, drawing up plans.