Chapter Twelve
Kyra Longfletch pushed open the double wooden doors that led out of Castle Fortguard and stared up at dark sky above her. The sun had set long ago, and the normally humid air was getting a bit colder than before. It was just as well. The cooling breeze was refreshing after the hot battle, and all of the surviving warriors were grateful for it.
Kyra didn't really know what to think. Her emotions and feelings were very confused after the battle. Firstly, she was definitely certain now that she was officially and truly mad. Charging into an army while seeing red to slay your enemy should be placed in the "mad" category, Kyra decided mentally. She had never experienced or heard about anything that resembled this before.
Was she just imagining it all? Kyra pinched herself, vaguely hoping that everything that had happened since she had been a slave would disappear. She vaguely hoped that she would wake up in a warm bed, plotting about how to make her father notice her.
How happy she had been without realizing it. How carefree and innocent! But now, Kyra knew about life, and could never live in innocence and ignorance again. Kyra Longfletch had tasted blood on her arrows, and had found the intoxicating substance to her liking. Kyra was a killer, yes, but she wasn't like Mavarl. Kyra's bloodlust could only be aroused when she was angry, and she strove to control it.
She would have to make up for her inner madness, she knew, and being a warrior was the best way to learn self- restraint and control, wasn't it? "Yes," the otter muttered to herself hazily. "I'll want t'learn 'ow t'gain better. . . control. . ." Her voice trailed off as she slumped against the wall of the castle. All seemed to be surrounded in mist, and Kyra's eyes filmed over.
Then, she fell into a deep sleep. The sleep that she had then was the most refreshing of her life. In it, she left many of her aches and pains, many of her painful memories, much of her hatred. But, of course, she was mortal, and unable to lose all of her bad qualities.
A soft breeze blew across her face, ruffling her fur as she slept. And Kyra Longfletch slept for a long time indeed. A blissful and dreamless sleep. The dreams that had haunted her mind in her eight tortured seasons of slavery were gone. The steady beating of her heart was covered by her soft breathing, and the ottermaid never stirred as the remaining shrews, otters, hares, and other creatures were busy rounding up the last of Mavarl's rats.
The battle was won at last. She had indeed done her last day's slave labor. Of course, this thought that wandered through her sleeping mind wasn't quite true, but Kyra didn't know it at the time. All of that would come later, as would the rest of her life.
And, indeed, Kyra Longfletch now had her own life back. When she had killed Mavarl, she had won more than just revenge by his death. She had won a life too, and that life was her own. Kyra Longfletch was at last free.
Of course, Kyra's sleep had to be interrupted sometime, and when it was, it was a cheer that awakened her. Almost every single creature that had participated in the rebellion was nearby, watching her light breathing, murmuring and whispering amongst each other. Was Kyra dead? Had she killed Mavarl? What had happened to her? If she was alive, was she wounded?
This last question was rather stupid. Of COURSE Kyra was wounded. Blood was all over her fur, and had formed scabs over the worst of her injuries. Still, it was asked. Other, more general questions were asked by the hares.
'Who the hell is this bloody damn slave that everyone's goggling at?' was a common one. The questions of the otters were different. Many of them wanted to know if that slave, half dead and covered in grime and blood, was really their Kyrani Longfletch.
As Kyra's eyelids fluttered open, the audience gasped as one, watching her intently lest they miss a thing as she got to her feet. Kyra got to her feet without any trouble. The ottermaid blushed, going crimson to the roots of her fur as she saw the mass of creatures watching her.
What a sight she must look! A ripped tunic that she had tied up, covered in sweat and blood from charging through the rats and fighting Mavarl, and a quiver filled with arrows drenched in rat blood. She grinned at all the creatures staring and held up the golden feathered arrow that she had slain Mavarl with. All of the creatures were silent for a moment before a wordless cheer erupted from their throats.
Lord Mavarl was dead! The rat tyrant that had kept them in slavery for so long was at last dead!
Kyra stood there, her brown eyes still groggy and her muscles positively burning with aches and pains that Kyra had gained in her fighting. Kyra winced, feeling her various wounds throb with torn muscle and bruised skin. The worst injury was the one in her leg. The deep gash had already healed well, and she could move it with more ease.
But the leg muscle that had been pierced by the vermin arrow was still extremely painful. She could put weight on it though, and she knew that it would heal after a while. Most injuries did. Feeling more than a bit awkward and unsure of herself, Kyra grinned uneasily at the crowd, not really knowing how to react. Nothing like this had ever happened to her before. Kyra wasn't a big public speaker at all, and the sight of many pairs of eyes on her made her nervous.
Sky ran forwards after a few moments of silence and pulled her friend into a tight hug, offering reassurance and consolation. Kyra cheered up greatly as she saw her friend burst from the crowd to wrap her arms about her. Kyra smiled and hugged her best friend back, laughing all the time. Sky pulled away and grabbed Kyra's paw, dragging her forcefully down the steps.
The ottermaid stumbled and winced as she made her way down the steps, trying to ignore the pain in her injured leg. "You've got a lot to answer for, Miss Longfletch," the haremaid said mockingly. "Stealin' all the glory by killin' that fiend! How could you when your best friend worked just as hard in just as much danger an' got not so much as a bally glance! Really, Kyra."
The haremaid was cut off as a taller male hare approached them, grinning. Sky looked at him, longing shining in her eyes as she glanced at his saber, knowing that he was a valiant member of the Long Patrol. Oh how she wanted to be a hare of the Long Patrol like he was! Sky admired and adored all hares of whom legends were told and who had fought in great battles.
This hare was surely one of them, and, of course, Sky was staring goggle eyed at him as she did at every Long Patroller- with the exception of Claire, since that particular hare had been her nursemaid- when she came across one. Of course, Sky had only been reintroduced to the Long Patrol and the hares in it this very day, but she still felt the old longing spring up in her again, like an old wound festering.
"I wouldn't say you're walkin' away with nothin' Miss Meadowsong," the male hare said smartly. Sky didn't speak. Obviously, this hare was an officer, which made him seem even more like a god or goddess to her. Sky had instantly become the admirer of all Long Patrollers, male and female, young and old.
Mainly, because she wanted to be just like them. She envied the positions that the held, especially Claire. A Captain! The nerve of her nursemaid running off to play captain while she was a slave! "I'm Lieutenant Kipaeu of th' Long Patrol at y'service marm. Friend of Cap'n Claire's, doncha know!" Sky almost moaned. That meant he really was an officer.
An officer! A real Long Patrol officer! She would have given anything in her possession- not even considering that slaves had no possessions- to have been in this 'Lieutenant Kipeau's' place. He continued. "We both had our eyes on you in the battle, m'gel and both of us are quite impressed, wot!"
Sky couldn't help breaking out into an idiotic grin. Kyra hit her. Sky woke up, responding quickly to the pain. She was too pleased even to shoot Kyra an annoyed glance. Sky smiled and bowed formally to Lieutenant Kip, regaining some of her senses after the swift cuff that Kyra had unexpectedly given her.
"Really? You were? I'm not that good, really. Been a slave when I should have been trainin', wot! Haven't held weapons since I was a bally leveret, doncha know? I used t'live in the Mountain, y'know. Once, I wa-" Kyra grinned and nodded her agreement, neatly cutting Sky off. She had been rambling badly, and Kyra felt that it was her duty as a best friend to try and keep Sky from making too much of an idiot of herself in front of an officer of the Long Patrol; or anyone for that matter.
"Aye, Lieutenant Kipaeu sir. 'Tis the truth. She mus' be a natural, ain't that right, Sky?" Sky didn't say anything, which was odd enough as it was. Kyra was relieved, for she didn't want to have to pull Sky out of yet a third embarrassing scrape. The ottermaid hadn't ever seen her friend act such a fool! Well, upon reconsidering, she had.
Whenever Sky talked of the Long Patrol, her eyes would light up, and she would usually have some idiotic plan in her head. Obviously the sight of an officer of the Long Patrol- besides Claire, of course; one finds it hard to admire a young nursemaid of ones leveret years as a gallant warrior- had made her rather excited.
Kyra grinned and winked at the Lieutenant, knowing that if she did not keep the flow of the conversation going, Sky would. "So, what 'ave you got in mind for our warrior prodigy, Lieutenant? Somethin' good, I 'ope. Maybe then Sky'll fergive me for killin' me mortal enemy and won't think I stole all the glory."
Kip laughed, putting a paw on Sky's shoulder. "Oh, we've got plans fer this gel alright! We're takin' this young green-behind-the-ears on Patrol as soon as we get back to Salamandastron, doncha know! She'll need to be trained up a bit, but she'll be a Perilous Hare yet! H'Offisah material, perhaps, eh wot. Just needs a spot of training; a bit of brushing up here and there, and she'll be as good as Claire with her saber, eh m'gel?" Sky's smile threatened to split her face in half.
Sky smiled even wider, if that was possible, and her eyes shone like beacons on a foggy night. She was going to join the Long Patrol! At last! "Really? Patrol, y'say? I'd be honored t'serve on th' jolly ol' Long Patrol, Lieutenant Kip sah!" Kyra smiled as she realized that talk of being on the Long Patrol had given Sky back most of her tongue and her wits.
The older hare nodded and winked at Kyra before departing to help with the rats. Kyra winked at Sky in turn. The Long Patrol? That was a very good offer. It would give Sky a good scope for her talents and keep her from getting into too much trouble.
Sky then turned to Kyra and smiled wickedly. "I'm not the only one who's getting good news, Kyra m'gel! I found someone durin' the battle that I think you'll recognize. A very nice chap who wants t'see you. C'mon Kys, I'll show you where 'e is."
Sky walked off through the crowd with her ottermaid friend following her closely. After a few moments of weaving through the busy hares, otters, and shrews, Sky stopped. "I'll just leave you two alone t'get reaquainted. I'm goin' t'find Lieutenant Kip and bother him with questions about th' Long Patrol. See you in a bit, Kys!"
Kyra gasped with surprise as she was picked up off the ground, twirled around in a circle, and then kissed lightly on the forehead. The bewildered ottermaid looked up into a pair of familiar large brown eyes and a slow smile crept across her lips. The leaned forwards and kissed the otter that stood in front of her on the cheek before hugging him as tightly as she could.
The otter grinned, speaking in a rush of emotion. "Kys! It really is you! My liddle sister, goin' off an' killin' warlords with the bow she stole from Granmum! Isn't that somethin'? 'Tis good t'see yore pretty liddle face again, Kyra Longfletch." Kyra giggled and pulled back. After all these years of slavery she had finally found the one creature that she had missed most of all.
"Ronil! You're 'ere! I knew MacPhearsome would bring you! I knew it!"
Ronil hugged his twin tightly before gripping her firmly by the shoulders and holding her at arms length. He made a tsking noise with his tongue and waggled a finger at his long lost little sister, eyeing her clothes with distaste.
"Kyra! What are you wearin'? I can't believe you, sis! Runnin' around in that ol' rag. How immodest o' ye! C'mon, I've got t'show you to someone an' then we're getting you cleaned up! Can't have a sister o' mine runnin' around with muck all over 'er an' wearin' that torn up tunic. Is that wot ye wore all the time? Oh Kys, if only I had known where you were! You couldn't believe how much I've missed you, an' how happy I was when I saw ye!"
Kyra smiled, and nodded. "Washin' all o' this muck off would suit me jus' fine, brother, but did I 'ear you say that you wanted t'show me to someone? I'd like an explanation if y'don't mind! I don't like bein' kept waiting much. Not after waiting eight seasons to see me own twin, that is. You'd best tell me soon, 'fore I pop with excitement!"
Ronil grinned and winked at her, his mood lighter since the two had been reunited. His spirits were soaring, and his overall tone was playful and mischievous. Besides, he had important news for Kyra to hear.
"Well, that's only the beginning! While you was 'ere an' sent MacPhearsome flyin' about playin' messenger boy, Lord Seastripe was tryin' t'figure out how t'get to this 'ere island! So he went and asked ol' Skipper Torran, 'es th' Skipper o' River Otters, t'borrow some boats! I found out some interestin' stuff about our mum from 'im when we met to come 'ere, but I'll let 'im tell you that part."
"So, yore takin' me t'see this Skipper Torran are ye? What's 'e got t'tell me, Ronil?" Ronil shook his head and put a finger to his lips. He wasn't going to ruin the surprise for his little sister. This would be the best news that she had heard in a long time, the news of a new way of life and a position and dream she had always craved.
But, of course, he didn't tell her this. He didn't say a word. All he did was smile. The eyes of the strong, well-built male otter had a glint in them that Kyra couldn't understand. "Oh, c'mon Ronny, jus' gimme a little hint! You know I can't stand not knowin'! Liddle fiend! Please tell me?"
Ronil shook his head. "I promised not t'tell ye! We'll let Skipper Torran do that for me. We aren't that far off. You've waited seasons for freedom, an' you c'n wait jus' a few minutes longer t'find out his news." Kyra sulked for a few moments, but her mood soon picked up.
She was free, Mavarl was dead, Sky was joining the Long Patrol, Ronil was here with her, and soon she was going to find out a secret about her parents! How could she stay sad for long?
Ronil grabbed his sister's paw and dragged her through the busy crowd until they reached a rather quiet spot near the edge of the island. On a rock, the setting sun at his back, sat an old otter. His fur was matted and gray, and silvery scars ran along his old battered body. He wore a black velvet eye patch over his left eye.
The old otter turned around and faced the twins, smiling a rather crooked smile. "Ronil? Is this yer liddle sister, now? Thanks fer bringin' th' lass 'ere. I've got some important things t'tell to 'er." He paused and shot a suspicious glance at the sheepishly grinning Ronil. "Unless you've gone an' opened yer big trap an' told Kyrani everythin'! I rather hoped you c'd keep a secret."
Kyra stepped forwards and offered her paw for the old otter to shake, which he did with a firm grip. This was surprising, considering his age, and she had to keep herself from gasping in surprise. This otter obviously had more to him than his appearance showed. But, then again, you could never judge a creature by the way that they looked.
Smiling reassuringly at the old otter, she spoke to him in a tone that was somewhere between mock annoyance and laughter. "Jus' Kyra, please, Skipper. No one calls me Kyrani. I never did like me name. And Ronny didn't tell me, though I pestered him to. He kept his mouth shut, the great lump. Not to be rude, but can you please tell me what you want to tell me before I explode?"
The old otter laughed, patting the space on the rock next to him. "Sit down, lassie. I've got a rather interesting story t'tell ye, young miss!" Kyra sat, and the old otter began his tale.
"Well now, a long time ago, before you were born in fact, I had a beautiful daughter. My liddle Waterlily was the light of me life. She wasn't a warrior, but she was beautiful, young, kind, and smart. Lily was everything that I could 'ave wanted in a child.
"Now, one day, me daughter met up with this young scoundrel named Ironjaw. I didn't really know who 'e was at the time, but I was a father, an' didn't want me darlin' pearl runnin' around with some strange otter who had appeared out o' nowhere!
"I told 'er t'stay away from 'im, though the young pup was quite the gentlemen. I guess I was jealous an' didn't want my only daughter growin' up too fast. She got quite mad at me then an' decided to take off. I never saw 'er again, actually.
"I was so angry that I didn't realize what I 'ad done until it was too late. She was gone. 'Er mother 'ad died long before, an' so I was stuck. No family, daughter, or heir. Then, much much later, I meet up with that young rip you call a brother an' we got to talkin'. When he mentioned that 'is father was named Ironjaw, I knew who 'e was instantly. It's rather odd jus' meetin' up with a lost grandson that y'didn't even know you 'ad."
Kyra stared at the old Skipper, her brown eyes wide. This was all so confusing, and it was all coming in such a rush. Her heart pounded within her breast, her mind awhirl. All of these things were new to her, but Ronil didn't seem surprised.
She chastised herself internally. Of course Ronil would know, she thought to herself. He was the one who had wanted her to meet this otter, who apparently was. . . "But, that would mean," she croaked apprehensively.
"That I'm yore grandfather too?" finished the Skipper. "Aye, so it does. Yore lovely mother's father. And so at last I found out that me daughter found 'appiness for a short while. I jus' wish I could see her one more time an' apologize to 'er fer what I did." Kyra nodded gravely. She knew that the old otter had nothing to live for, now that his daughter was gone.
She had lost Ronil, and had felt much the same, as if her family had abandoned her to a world of pain that she could not escape.
"But," he continued, "I can't. I'm in a bit of a jam, y'see. I can't just up an' die. I think responsibility is th' only thing keepin' me alive these days. Y'see, I can't exactly jus' leave all the River Otters of Mossflower without a Skipper t'lead them! And my daughter and 'er husband are dead. When I met yore brother, I asked 'im if he would take an old otters burden, but th' young chap can't go rulin' two kingdoms! So that leaves,"
"Me?" Kyra said softly. "Me?" The old Skipper nodded.
"Yes, you Missy! Yore my only heir left besides Ronil there, an' he can't do it. Your half river H'Otter, y'know. And I think we need you in Mossflower more 'n Ronil needs you at 'Olt Ruddaring. That young scamp'll make a fine Skipper one day, an' I don't think that you'd be very happy at Ruddaring after all yore adventures here. You'd think it was boring."
Kyra nodded slowly. "Aye, yore right there, Grandsire. Ronil would do everything to make me 'appy, but I'd get restless. Too many sad memories at 'Olt Ruddaring fer me. I think it'd be nice t'see what Mossflower is like! I've 'eard of it, of course, but I've never seen it meself."
Kyra looked away from Skipper Torran for the first time and noticed that Ronil was gone. The old Skipper saw her gaze and smiled.
"I think Ronil's comin' back now. 'E just 'ad t'get somethin'." Sure enough, a few seconds later Ronil came tramping back to them carrying something golden in his paws. He grinned as he walked up to his twin sister and set Mavarl's emerald crown on her head. He kissed her lightly on the cheek, and sat down next to her.
And then, for the first time in seasons, Kyra Longfletch cried.