Chapter six: A messenger
Martin was at the breakfast table, picking at the untouched food, thinking about the son he would never have. A daughter! And he couldn't even teach just how to hold a dirk or bow and arrow. All his dreams of raising a son to be a renowned warrior were dashed, scattered and blown, just dissolved. He did love his daughter, but he would have been happier if it was a son.
Martin was brought back to reality when he heard some commotion outside. He sighed, and decided to see what it was about.
He had expected it to be Rose and Chrysanthemum, but there was a large crowd of the Noonvale residents, all pushing and shoving trying to get a look at something.
Martin gently pushed his way to the front, and he saw a robin, lying on the ground, half-dead, but still alive.
Aryah and other Noonvale healers went to work, reviving the robin, and healing the cuts and bruises on his weather-beaten body.
Aryah mumbled to herself, "Must've traveled a long ways, to be scarred and bruised like this. Why would a creature put himself through all this?"
Martin had heard Aryah as he studied the bird. "Whatever is was, it must've been really important to him, because the same journey would have killed another creature."
The robin's eyes slowly flickered open, and stared at all the creatures around him. "Ahem humph, where am I?"
Martin answered him. "You are in Noonvale, being treated by expert healers. Why did you fly through such dangerous weather to get here?"
One of the healers suddenly prised Chibb's beak open and forced him to drink something. "Carruph, harr- blech," Chibb choked, "What is that stuff?"
The healer who poured it down the bird's throat replied coolly, "You have a stuffed throat. I just cured it using this potion."
"Er, quite. Thank you." Chibb was a little unsure now that he couldn't clear his throat anymore. He turned back to Martin. "Are you a warrior?"
"Um, yes, I am a warrior. Do you need help?"
"Me? No, Mossflower needs help, and badly too."
Martin glanced towards Rose and Aryah. "Mossflower? Isn't that in the south?"
Chibb slowly got up, testing his wings. "I'll say it is. A wildcat, Verdauga Greeneye, no, he's dead, Tsarmina Greeneye, she has Mossflower under her claw, and the goodbeasts of Mossflower will die out if we don't retaliate soon!"
"Why don't you retaliate with the numbers you have now?"
Chibb chortled. "'Twould be foolish, they've diminished our numbers considerably, yet their horde grows larger by the day."
Martin stood decisively. "We'll go. Come on, warriors, grab your weapons and bring foodpacks, we're going this very day." Martin turned to go to the tent to get his sword. Rose stopped him. "Martin, you can't go. Please stay. Why should you go and leave?"
Martin placed a gentle paw under her chin and lifted her tear-stained face. "Rose, I must help them. If this Tsarmina wins over these creatures, there will be a desolate and evil region south of us, and she will want to conquer the land around Mossflower too. I hope you understand. Take good care of Krissanthamum." Martin winked at her and strode into the tent.
Rose dried her eyes, and gently picked her daughter up, cradling Chrysanthemum in her arms. "I'm glad you were not older, or Martin would have brought you along too. And I'm glad you're a maid. I couldn't imagine a child of mine fighting for their lives, it would be too much. At least a maid couldn't be a warrior like my Martin."
Martin was at the breakfast table, picking at the untouched food, thinking about the son he would never have. A daughter! And he couldn't even teach just how to hold a dirk or bow and arrow. All his dreams of raising a son to be a renowned warrior were dashed, scattered and blown, just dissolved. He did love his daughter, but he would have been happier if it was a son.
Martin was brought back to reality when he heard some commotion outside. He sighed, and decided to see what it was about.
He had expected it to be Rose and Chrysanthemum, but there was a large crowd of the Noonvale residents, all pushing and shoving trying to get a look at something.
Martin gently pushed his way to the front, and he saw a robin, lying on the ground, half-dead, but still alive.
Aryah and other Noonvale healers went to work, reviving the robin, and healing the cuts and bruises on his weather-beaten body.
Aryah mumbled to herself, "Must've traveled a long ways, to be scarred and bruised like this. Why would a creature put himself through all this?"
Martin had heard Aryah as he studied the bird. "Whatever is was, it must've been really important to him, because the same journey would have killed another creature."
The robin's eyes slowly flickered open, and stared at all the creatures around him. "Ahem humph, where am I?"
Martin answered him. "You are in Noonvale, being treated by expert healers. Why did you fly through such dangerous weather to get here?"
One of the healers suddenly prised Chibb's beak open and forced him to drink something. "Carruph, harr- blech," Chibb choked, "What is that stuff?"
The healer who poured it down the bird's throat replied coolly, "You have a stuffed throat. I just cured it using this potion."
"Er, quite. Thank you." Chibb was a little unsure now that he couldn't clear his throat anymore. He turned back to Martin. "Are you a warrior?"
"Um, yes, I am a warrior. Do you need help?"
"Me? No, Mossflower needs help, and badly too."
Martin glanced towards Rose and Aryah. "Mossflower? Isn't that in the south?"
Chibb slowly got up, testing his wings. "I'll say it is. A wildcat, Verdauga Greeneye, no, he's dead, Tsarmina Greeneye, she has Mossflower under her claw, and the goodbeasts of Mossflower will die out if we don't retaliate soon!"
"Why don't you retaliate with the numbers you have now?"
Chibb chortled. "'Twould be foolish, they've diminished our numbers considerably, yet their horde grows larger by the day."
Martin stood decisively. "We'll go. Come on, warriors, grab your weapons and bring foodpacks, we're going this very day." Martin turned to go to the tent to get his sword. Rose stopped him. "Martin, you can't go. Please stay. Why should you go and leave?"
Martin placed a gentle paw under her chin and lifted her tear-stained face. "Rose, I must help them. If this Tsarmina wins over these creatures, there will be a desolate and evil region south of us, and she will want to conquer the land around Mossflower too. I hope you understand. Take good care of Krissanthamum." Martin winked at her and strode into the tent.
Rose dried her eyes, and gently picked her daughter up, cradling Chrysanthemum in her arms. "I'm glad you were not older, or Martin would have brought you along too. And I'm glad you're a maid. I couldn't imagine a child of mine fighting for their lives, it would be too much. At least a maid couldn't be a warrior like my Martin."