Thanks for replying everybody! And Zenith, I'll see if I can put some more
Ashleg in this chapter. And to The Last Ride In, *grins* nope, I assure you
I do not write that fast. I actually had most of these chapters already
written out, and hurriedly posted them to put these nifty little comments
at the beginning of my chapters. You all(at Lancepaws) don't know how
happy I am to continue this story! Well, as long as you keep replying,
that's the only thing driving me to finish the story.... Anyways, I'll get
started...
Chapter Fifteen: Strange Events
Ashleg walked, or rather strutted, up and down in front of the ranks of Kotir.
The soldiers looked scant, and under-fed, but determined to prove themselves in case it might get them to be a Captain.
The pine marten stalked back and forth, his magnificent cloak twirling dangerously as he eyed Captains Brogg and Ratflank in the eye.
"The Lady Tsarmina Greeneyes, Ruler of the Thousand Eyes commands the full horde to scour the woods of Mossflower for the headquarters of those woodlanders. Milady wishes you to take the whole of them by surprise and kill them all."
Brogg, the not-so-smart weasel Captain, could not help blurting out, "That's imposs'ble! There ain't a way t'capture 'em all jus' by walkin' inter their 'eadquarters!"
Ashleg shot Brogg a poisonous glance, and Brogg withered and stepped back. The one-legged pine marten knew what the weasel had said was true, but Ashleg dare not break the Queen's orders, or Mossflower would have one less pine marten...
Ashleg repeated himself. "Go into Mossflower, now! Or you will face Milady's wrath if you try to disobey."
This left no choice. Who would stand against a wildcat thought to be crazy in the head?
Brogg and Ratflank nodded silently, yelled orders into the army and set off into Mossflower with all speed.
The three pursuers took their time, runnning a bit when the horde got out of sight, and dropping down low when they got too close.
This continued for about the rest of the day, then when the Bane's defeated band of mauraders sat down to rest and eat, the chasers followed suit, except that they took shelter in a small grove of trees a good distance away.
Dinny opened his pack. "Hurr, zurr Gonffer didn't et any o' moi supplois!"
Gonff just winked. "Aye matey, I was too busy eating Martin's." Martin tried to look stern and reprimand Gonff at the same time.
"So that's where Goody's apple pie went! I thought maybe somebeast else stole it because I KNOW it couldn't have been you, Gonff." Martin lay down the broken hilt of his sword, which he had been carrying ever since the end of the battle.
Gonff actually asked Martin a serious question. "Are you going to keep carrying that hilt around for the rest of your life?"
Martin nodded, and opened his pack. "It's the hilt of my father's sword, and my sword, and if I had a son it would have been his sword too. It's been passed down from generation to generation and even though it's no use to me now, I'd hate to part with it." Martin rubbed the red pommel stone slowly, remembering old times in the north.
"Here matey," Gonff handed him something. "make it easier on yourself instead of lugging a whoppin' piece o' metal all 'round the place."
It was a girdle cord from a habit.
Martin looked puzzled. "What do I use it for?"
"Use it to hang the sword around your neck. Columbine gave it t'me b'fore the battle."
Martin smiled and slipped the cord around the sword, and put it around his neck. "Thanks, matey, you've been a great help to me."
"No problem, that's what mateys are for, eh?"
Dinny had been watching the vermin up close and came back. "Looks loik yon varmints're gonna sleep, burr aye."
Gonff yawned and lay down. "Aye Din, and so should we. Chasing two score vermin can tire a mousetheif out."
Martin leaned against a tree and replied. "And a warrior too." Then he put his paws behind his head, acting as lookout for his other two friends. He was thinking about many things. His wife and his daughter among them. How tall would Santhe be now? She'd be much taller, maybe even growing a warrior's spirit. Warrioress, Martin reminded himself. Was his daughter like her gentle and beautiful mother, or was she like a true warrior, able to defend her friends in battle and help the weak? Maybe if she would like to be a warrior, Rose would let him teach their daughter in how to be a proper warrioress, and teach her the Warrior's Code, and everything she needeed to know about being a warrioress. But then, maybe she was against war like her mother, and only wanted to live a happy life of peace in Noonvale. Or maybe she was both.
Martin sat there pondering, till he fell into a peaceful slumber.
Santhe woke the following day feeling pleasantly refreshed. She knew her friends were disappointed that she had not spoken to them, but she was thinking about a lot of things, things she had not given thought about ever since her mother mentioned the Code of the Warrior.
She thought about her father, being a warrior, and the way he left to help to free Mossflower.
She dearly wished to be like her father.
On the outside, she was beautiful, and she looked exactly like her mother, gentle, and forgiving. But a fire burned within, because on the inside, she had her father's fighting spirit.
Santhe peeked out of the tent fold. She could see even at a distance that the rest of the group were splashing by the pond. She sighed, and decided to go join them. She would have to apoligize for not talking to them, and tell them why, because she knew that all of them, especially Jorell were worried sick about her.
She walked outside and stretched. Suddenly, she felt herself being pulled sideways, towards the forest, somebeast's paw clamped over her mouth. She tried not to scream, and started wriggling, and kicking at whoever it was. But this creature was strong, and held her tight as the captor pulled her silently into the bushes.
"Oh, thanks for drenching me, Dammy, this was my good tunic!"
Dammy ran around the pond as fast as his little paws could carry him to save himself from the wrath of Nytestripe.
"No! Please, spare me, wot!"
The others laughed at the sight of Dammy on his knees begging for mercy to be spared. Nytestripe towered over him, paws akimbo, squinting sternly down at him.
Even Jorell laughed. He looked around, and then remembered Santhe, and decided to see if she was feeling well enough to play.
"Hey guys, come on, let's get Santhe, see if she wants to come out and play."
"Hurr, awright. Les goo!"
Jorell peeked inside the tent. "Santhe, come on out and play! We miss you."
Dallum poked his head in under Jorell. "Hey, she's not 'ere!"
Nytestripe voiced her opinion. "Well, her mother isn't here either, Miz Rose probably went to go prepare the lunch."
Jorell's eyes lit up. "And Santhe went with her!"
And off they went towards the main part of the village. In the opposite direction of the forest where Santhe was taken captive.
"Let...me...go....you stupid little....unh!" Her captor whacked Santhe hard with a stave.
"Quiet!"
The voice from underneath an emerald-green cloak came out rapsy and harsh.
Santhe grabbed large stick, her warrior spirit rising. Her opponet began circling her, the stave held out ready to beat her. "Keep away. I mean it! Just...let...me....go....back!" Santhe tried to lunge at the cloaked figure, but whoever it was, was no fool. The creature backed away and blew an ivory whistle, and it emitted a low hoot, like an owl.
More cloaked figures came to surround the mousemaid.
Santhe looked desperately around her, but there was no way of escaping the ring of cloaked figures. Then the leader stepped forward again and rapped her harshly on the back. "You! Stan' steell now. We 'ave you captive."
Santhe was about to object and throw a rock at the figure when the creature shed its cloak. Underneath was a lithe and sinewy ferret.
"I am Bowfleg da Warlord, an' you arr my prisoner!"
~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=
Thank you, thank you! I know, horrible cliffhanger, isn't it? Well, if you want to know more, you'll have to reply!! *is speaking mainly to the people at FF.net and Tsar's board*
Chapter Fifteen: Strange Events
Ashleg walked, or rather strutted, up and down in front of the ranks of Kotir.
The soldiers looked scant, and under-fed, but determined to prove themselves in case it might get them to be a Captain.
The pine marten stalked back and forth, his magnificent cloak twirling dangerously as he eyed Captains Brogg and Ratflank in the eye.
"The Lady Tsarmina Greeneyes, Ruler of the Thousand Eyes commands the full horde to scour the woods of Mossflower for the headquarters of those woodlanders. Milady wishes you to take the whole of them by surprise and kill them all."
Brogg, the not-so-smart weasel Captain, could not help blurting out, "That's imposs'ble! There ain't a way t'capture 'em all jus' by walkin' inter their 'eadquarters!"
Ashleg shot Brogg a poisonous glance, and Brogg withered and stepped back. The one-legged pine marten knew what the weasel had said was true, but Ashleg dare not break the Queen's orders, or Mossflower would have one less pine marten...
Ashleg repeated himself. "Go into Mossflower, now! Or you will face Milady's wrath if you try to disobey."
This left no choice. Who would stand against a wildcat thought to be crazy in the head?
Brogg and Ratflank nodded silently, yelled orders into the army and set off into Mossflower with all speed.
The three pursuers took their time, runnning a bit when the horde got out of sight, and dropping down low when they got too close.
This continued for about the rest of the day, then when the Bane's defeated band of mauraders sat down to rest and eat, the chasers followed suit, except that they took shelter in a small grove of trees a good distance away.
Dinny opened his pack. "Hurr, zurr Gonffer didn't et any o' moi supplois!"
Gonff just winked. "Aye matey, I was too busy eating Martin's." Martin tried to look stern and reprimand Gonff at the same time.
"So that's where Goody's apple pie went! I thought maybe somebeast else stole it because I KNOW it couldn't have been you, Gonff." Martin lay down the broken hilt of his sword, which he had been carrying ever since the end of the battle.
Gonff actually asked Martin a serious question. "Are you going to keep carrying that hilt around for the rest of your life?"
Martin nodded, and opened his pack. "It's the hilt of my father's sword, and my sword, and if I had a son it would have been his sword too. It's been passed down from generation to generation and even though it's no use to me now, I'd hate to part with it." Martin rubbed the red pommel stone slowly, remembering old times in the north.
"Here matey," Gonff handed him something. "make it easier on yourself instead of lugging a whoppin' piece o' metal all 'round the place."
It was a girdle cord from a habit.
Martin looked puzzled. "What do I use it for?"
"Use it to hang the sword around your neck. Columbine gave it t'me b'fore the battle."
Martin smiled and slipped the cord around the sword, and put it around his neck. "Thanks, matey, you've been a great help to me."
"No problem, that's what mateys are for, eh?"
Dinny had been watching the vermin up close and came back. "Looks loik yon varmints're gonna sleep, burr aye."
Gonff yawned and lay down. "Aye Din, and so should we. Chasing two score vermin can tire a mousetheif out."
Martin leaned against a tree and replied. "And a warrior too." Then he put his paws behind his head, acting as lookout for his other two friends. He was thinking about many things. His wife and his daughter among them. How tall would Santhe be now? She'd be much taller, maybe even growing a warrior's spirit. Warrioress, Martin reminded himself. Was his daughter like her gentle and beautiful mother, or was she like a true warrior, able to defend her friends in battle and help the weak? Maybe if she would like to be a warrior, Rose would let him teach their daughter in how to be a proper warrioress, and teach her the Warrior's Code, and everything she needeed to know about being a warrioress. But then, maybe she was against war like her mother, and only wanted to live a happy life of peace in Noonvale. Or maybe she was both.
Martin sat there pondering, till he fell into a peaceful slumber.
Santhe woke the following day feeling pleasantly refreshed. She knew her friends were disappointed that she had not spoken to them, but she was thinking about a lot of things, things she had not given thought about ever since her mother mentioned the Code of the Warrior.
She thought about her father, being a warrior, and the way he left to help to free Mossflower.
She dearly wished to be like her father.
On the outside, she was beautiful, and she looked exactly like her mother, gentle, and forgiving. But a fire burned within, because on the inside, she had her father's fighting spirit.
Santhe peeked out of the tent fold. She could see even at a distance that the rest of the group were splashing by the pond. She sighed, and decided to go join them. She would have to apoligize for not talking to them, and tell them why, because she knew that all of them, especially Jorell were worried sick about her.
She walked outside and stretched. Suddenly, she felt herself being pulled sideways, towards the forest, somebeast's paw clamped over her mouth. She tried not to scream, and started wriggling, and kicking at whoever it was. But this creature was strong, and held her tight as the captor pulled her silently into the bushes.
"Oh, thanks for drenching me, Dammy, this was my good tunic!"
Dammy ran around the pond as fast as his little paws could carry him to save himself from the wrath of Nytestripe.
"No! Please, spare me, wot!"
The others laughed at the sight of Dammy on his knees begging for mercy to be spared. Nytestripe towered over him, paws akimbo, squinting sternly down at him.
Even Jorell laughed. He looked around, and then remembered Santhe, and decided to see if she was feeling well enough to play.
"Hey guys, come on, let's get Santhe, see if she wants to come out and play."
"Hurr, awright. Les goo!"
Jorell peeked inside the tent. "Santhe, come on out and play! We miss you."
Dallum poked his head in under Jorell. "Hey, she's not 'ere!"
Nytestripe voiced her opinion. "Well, her mother isn't here either, Miz Rose probably went to go prepare the lunch."
Jorell's eyes lit up. "And Santhe went with her!"
And off they went towards the main part of the village. In the opposite direction of the forest where Santhe was taken captive.
"Let...me...go....you stupid little....unh!" Her captor whacked Santhe hard with a stave.
"Quiet!"
The voice from underneath an emerald-green cloak came out rapsy and harsh.
Santhe grabbed large stick, her warrior spirit rising. Her opponet began circling her, the stave held out ready to beat her. "Keep away. I mean it! Just...let...me....go....back!" Santhe tried to lunge at the cloaked figure, but whoever it was, was no fool. The creature backed away and blew an ivory whistle, and it emitted a low hoot, like an owl.
More cloaked figures came to surround the mousemaid.
Santhe looked desperately around her, but there was no way of escaping the ring of cloaked figures. Then the leader stepped forward again and rapped her harshly on the back. "You! Stan' steell now. We 'ave you captive."
Santhe was about to object and throw a rock at the figure when the creature shed its cloak. Underneath was a lithe and sinewy ferret.
"I am Bowfleg da Warlord, an' you arr my prisoner!"
~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=
Thank you, thank you! I know, horrible cliffhanger, isn't it? Well, if you want to know more, you'll have to reply!! *is speaking mainly to the people at FF.net and Tsar's board*