Okay, I'm afraid I have some explaining to do before this next chapter.
Yes, yes, I've been off a bit, because my parents think that ff.net is not
appropriate because of some the the stories and stuff, no offense, cuz I
think this is a /great/ site. So, I haven't been allowed on, and I'm still
not, so I'm taking a risky opportunity here. Don't worry, you haven't
missed much, I haven't been working on it lately. I am, but rather slowly,
continuing this story at the address in my bio. I've tried to get on here
on Netscape, because it was locked on IE, but Netscape is a bit weird with
this site as well as a couple others, so finally I got lucky. Well, here is
the next chapter, and please don't expect me to add Chapter Eighteen right
away, there's no telling how long it will take. Any questions or whatever,
e-mail me at jessie-joyce@juno.com .
Starose: Warriormaid? True, to tell the truth, "warrioress" was the first thing that came into my mind. StormGullwhacker: Thanks! Er, um, to tell the truth, I'm not /exactly/ sure what's going to happen, I just think it up as I go along, but I know for certain that Santhe and co. will eventually make their way down to Mossflower to save Martin and ect. (Oops! Spoiler!)
Chapter Seventeen: Bowfleg the Warlord
Santhe was cruelly dragged to Bowfleg's camp. Her mouth was bound, and her paws tied behind her back. She still felt groggy from the beating she took on her head, but felt well enough to sit against a tree and eye her surroundings. It was a good-sized camp, with many hordebeasts, enough to outnumber each member in Noonvale five to one. The thought of that made Santhe's heart sink so low she could almost feel it touch the ground. Now Bowfleg, the ferret Warlord, was far from idle, and he was unbelievably strong. He was lean, and muscular, and could best any three vermin in combat and beat them single-clawed. From what Santhe heard from the gossip that circulated rather quickly around the camp, Bowfleg had left the far north and traveled south, in search of plunder and shelter. 'And they're planning to take Noonvale,' the young mousemaid thought again sadly. If only her friends knew what happened to her! Then maybe Noonvale could have a chance... if they were warned in time. And even that looked very unlikely from the present situation. She kept thinking about it, each thought growing even more miserable. She didn't notice the ferret Captain Wildag strutting jauntily up to her. "'Ey you! Up on yer paws! Lord Bowfleg wants t'see yer." He roughly pulled Santhe to her paws and removed the scarf from around her mouth. Santhe forced a painful smile at Wildag, remarking impudently, "What about you? What, he couldn't stand the sight of your ugly face?" The ferret grinned nastily and flicked his whip out, grazing the fur on her neck. "You'll learn some manners when Lord Bowfleg has yer strung upside- down inna river full'o'pikes." Santhe winced but took the blow steadily. "Yes, it's a good thing it's me, those pikes would probably choke on your thick carcass." Wildag was shaking with unsuppressible rage, and it looked for a moment that he was going to flay Santhe into a million pieces with his whip, but he thought better of it, and took his anger out by shoving her roughly in the direction of Bowfleg's tent. "You shut up, or I'll make this whip shut yer up!"
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Jorell ran ahead of his friends into the kitchen. "Hey mom! Is Aunt Rose here?" Gauchee smiled at her son and wiped off some dishes. "Yes dear, I think she went to the larders for some nuts. She's making a hazelnut and almond pie for tonight." Dammy peeked his head in just in time to hear Gauchee and licked his lips. "Mmmmm, me favorite pie, doncha know." Nytestripe walked past Dammy, giving him a small clip on the ear in passing. "Food always seems to be the only thing on your mind. Come on, Jorell, to the larders!" Jorell raced Dallum and Bungo to the larders, with Dammy trailing along behind and stuffing a leek and onion flan in his mouth at the same time. "Mmf grmph snch! I say, wait up, you rotters!" Jorell nearly crashed into his aunt, who was just making her way out of the larder, with two bags of hazelnuts and almonds. Rose gently set down the bags and dusted herself off, and smiled at the huffing and puffing group of young ones. "So, what are you nuisances doing barging into the kitchens disturbing us important cooks? Where's Santhe?" Jorell's heart sank. "You mean, she's not with you?" Rose looked slightly puzzled. "No, I left her in the tent. She told me she was going to play with you later." Dallum looked between Jorell and his aunt. "Well, we 'aven't seen 'er all day. Or for three 'ole days, f'r that matter." Rose turned pale. "But, where could she be?" Jorell himself was feeling a worried, but he knew Noonvale was a big place, and Santhe could have gone anywhere. Though why she would go somewhere without her mother or friends was beyond him. "I-I don't know. We checked in the tent, and she wasn't there, so we thought she was with you." Here Jorell noticed his aunt looked like she was about to faint, and added, "But she's probably somewhere else. Santhe knows how to take care of herself. She probably took a walk around the village square." Rose picked up the bags of nuts, still somewhat puzzled and worried. "Right, okay, can you little ones please go look for her?" Bungo saluted. "Burr aye, miz, us'ns will lukk oot f'mizzie Santhe, doan't ee wurry." After Rose went back to the kitchen, Brome turned back to his friends. "Now what?"
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Santhe was roughly pushed into the tent by Wildag, and fell at the paws of the mighty Warlord Bowfleg. Even though she hated him and his horde, Bowfleg imposed a figure of importance and danger. "Danger" meaning that his mood could be dangerous to anybeast who provoked it. And Bowfleg was no sissy when it came to fighting. "So, wodd do you feel now, eh? We 'ave you tied oop. Wodd d'you say to dat, hunh?" Santhe tried not to blanch as the Warlord pulled her close, practically breathing down her neck. "You may have me captured, but you'll never capture Noonvale!" Bowfleg roared with laughter and released her, tossing her face-first into the dirt again. "Kyahahahahayukyukyuk! Big words for a small mouse." He picked up his curved sabre and began sharpening it, taking sideways glances at Santhe. "Metinks I'll cut oop your liddle friends into liddle pieces an' feed dem to de fishes, eh, preddy one?" Santhe gritted her teeth in anger at being called "preddy one" by one so repulsive. "You just try it. We have good fighters, and a huge army is coming towards Noonvale right now. If you try attacking Noonvale, that army will defeat you quicker than you can draw that blade." Of course Santhe knew that this wasn't true, and wasn't ever going to be, she felt extremely angry at Bowfleg and all vermin that existed. Bowfleg smiled and went on sharpening, hiding his surprise. "An' army, eh? We kin defeat any army. I 'ave three 'undred unner my command, an' all are gudd fighters." Santhe spat her answer back at him. "Our army has over 500 hundred warriors, and they could scrap you lot any day." Now the young mousemaid was surprised at her own temper, as Bowfleg was. On the outside, Santhe was as beautiful as a summer morn, but on the inside, she was like a flame, burning those who dared to get close. She glared at the ferret, and was glad to see that he was deep in thought, obviously pondering whether his attack would go well. When he spoke, it was not to her. "Wildag! Cumm in 'ere, h'take dissen wurm outta my sight." The mousemaid couldn't help but feel happy, she felt she had saved the world, even though she had just saved Noonvale with a few insults. The ferret Captain bowed and brought his whip down on Santhe, inflicting a small cut on her arm. "Common you, up on your paws!" Santhe could not help a parting shot at the Warlord. "I see you've decided to chicken out, eh? Shows that you're a coward and a bully on the inside, you're no Warlord!" Bowfleg winked and grabbed a bottle of damson wine. "So you say, bud dat won' stopp me frum capturing your village. We kin take care o' your army. Kyahahahahahaha!" Santhe started. She was shocked on the inside, but was careful not to show it. "No! You can't do that! The army will-" Bowfleg cut her off, standing and pointing the saber he had drawn in the blink of an eye at her throat. "Dere is no army, is dere? I know you're lying, preddy one, an' your lies aren't going t'stopp me crushing your village!" He emphasized the word "crushing" with a light tap of the saber under her chin. He whirled around again, the flowing red cape twirling as he sat back down in his chair, satisfied with the way he settled the argument.
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Jorell and co. decided that Santhe went to her favorite place to think, the spot by the river on the edge of Noonvale, which also happened to be her mother's favorite spot when she was younger. Jorell ran ahead, hoping to see Santhe probably staring into the river with her own thoughts.... but saw nothing. He plopped dejectedly on a willow stump as the others, breathing heavily, arrived. He spoke his troubled thoughts aloud. "I don't get it. We can't find her anywhere, and she would never run away from Noonvale." Dammy was not quite the athletic type, but the gears in his mind usually turned the right way, even if they were a bit rusty. Huffing and puffing, he lectured the group. He broke a long, slender but sturdy twig from a willow tree hanging over him, using it as a pointer. "Righto, m'lad, an' first if y'want t'get to step number two, y'have t'use good ol'logic. 'Tis bally simple. Just narrow down the jolly ol' choices an' you've got it." Jorell nodded slowly, unconciously pulling the grass while listening to Dammy. "So, what are the possibilities?" "Righto, just gettin' down t'that. Now, we've bally well scoured Noonvale, every bloomin' nook and cranny. So, we use simple logic to know that she jolly well isn't in the residence anymore, wot." Nytestripe pretended to stifle a yawn as Dammy continued with his authoratic air. The young hare tapped Nytestripe sharply on the head. "Pay attention, y'stripey lump, or you'll never learn! Now, where was I? Oh yes, now... since Santhe isn't in Noonvale, she must be bally well out! But since we know our friend wouldn't do a blasted thing such as running away, we have to eliminate that as well." Dallum sighed loudly and plucked the pointer from Dammy's paw. "So, what choices do we have left, floppy ears?" Dammy grabbed the pointer back rather indignantly. "Hmph! Floppy ears yourself, spikey nose! I was just gettin' down t'that. If Santhe didn't leave Noonvale on her own bally will..." Here Jorell cut him off as realization dawned on him. He leapt up excitedly. "Yes! Then somebody forced her! Which also means..." The five friends looked at each other, thinking the same thing. "Santhe was kidnapped!" Jorell was so excited, he could hardly speak. "C'mon, we've got to go tell the rest at Noonvale!" He started running... but was lifted into the air... by another creature! It was a nasty-looking weasel, whom which she and her companion looked quite please with themselves. "Aye, laddie, yer friend wuz captured, but now so are yew!"
Starose: Warriormaid? True, to tell the truth, "warrioress" was the first thing that came into my mind. StormGullwhacker: Thanks! Er, um, to tell the truth, I'm not /exactly/ sure what's going to happen, I just think it up as I go along, but I know for certain that Santhe and co. will eventually make their way down to Mossflower to save Martin and ect. (Oops! Spoiler!)
Chapter Seventeen: Bowfleg the Warlord
Santhe was cruelly dragged to Bowfleg's camp. Her mouth was bound, and her paws tied behind her back. She still felt groggy from the beating she took on her head, but felt well enough to sit against a tree and eye her surroundings. It was a good-sized camp, with many hordebeasts, enough to outnumber each member in Noonvale five to one. The thought of that made Santhe's heart sink so low she could almost feel it touch the ground. Now Bowfleg, the ferret Warlord, was far from idle, and he was unbelievably strong. He was lean, and muscular, and could best any three vermin in combat and beat them single-clawed. From what Santhe heard from the gossip that circulated rather quickly around the camp, Bowfleg had left the far north and traveled south, in search of plunder and shelter. 'And they're planning to take Noonvale,' the young mousemaid thought again sadly. If only her friends knew what happened to her! Then maybe Noonvale could have a chance... if they were warned in time. And even that looked very unlikely from the present situation. She kept thinking about it, each thought growing even more miserable. She didn't notice the ferret Captain Wildag strutting jauntily up to her. "'Ey you! Up on yer paws! Lord Bowfleg wants t'see yer." He roughly pulled Santhe to her paws and removed the scarf from around her mouth. Santhe forced a painful smile at Wildag, remarking impudently, "What about you? What, he couldn't stand the sight of your ugly face?" The ferret grinned nastily and flicked his whip out, grazing the fur on her neck. "You'll learn some manners when Lord Bowfleg has yer strung upside- down inna river full'o'pikes." Santhe winced but took the blow steadily. "Yes, it's a good thing it's me, those pikes would probably choke on your thick carcass." Wildag was shaking with unsuppressible rage, and it looked for a moment that he was going to flay Santhe into a million pieces with his whip, but he thought better of it, and took his anger out by shoving her roughly in the direction of Bowfleg's tent. "You shut up, or I'll make this whip shut yer up!"
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Jorell ran ahead of his friends into the kitchen. "Hey mom! Is Aunt Rose here?" Gauchee smiled at her son and wiped off some dishes. "Yes dear, I think she went to the larders for some nuts. She's making a hazelnut and almond pie for tonight." Dammy peeked his head in just in time to hear Gauchee and licked his lips. "Mmmmm, me favorite pie, doncha know." Nytestripe walked past Dammy, giving him a small clip on the ear in passing. "Food always seems to be the only thing on your mind. Come on, Jorell, to the larders!" Jorell raced Dallum and Bungo to the larders, with Dammy trailing along behind and stuffing a leek and onion flan in his mouth at the same time. "Mmf grmph snch! I say, wait up, you rotters!" Jorell nearly crashed into his aunt, who was just making her way out of the larder, with two bags of hazelnuts and almonds. Rose gently set down the bags and dusted herself off, and smiled at the huffing and puffing group of young ones. "So, what are you nuisances doing barging into the kitchens disturbing us important cooks? Where's Santhe?" Jorell's heart sank. "You mean, she's not with you?" Rose looked slightly puzzled. "No, I left her in the tent. She told me she was going to play with you later." Dallum looked between Jorell and his aunt. "Well, we 'aven't seen 'er all day. Or for three 'ole days, f'r that matter." Rose turned pale. "But, where could she be?" Jorell himself was feeling a worried, but he knew Noonvale was a big place, and Santhe could have gone anywhere. Though why she would go somewhere without her mother or friends was beyond him. "I-I don't know. We checked in the tent, and she wasn't there, so we thought she was with you." Here Jorell noticed his aunt looked like she was about to faint, and added, "But she's probably somewhere else. Santhe knows how to take care of herself. She probably took a walk around the village square." Rose picked up the bags of nuts, still somewhat puzzled and worried. "Right, okay, can you little ones please go look for her?" Bungo saluted. "Burr aye, miz, us'ns will lukk oot f'mizzie Santhe, doan't ee wurry." After Rose went back to the kitchen, Brome turned back to his friends. "Now what?"
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Santhe was roughly pushed into the tent by Wildag, and fell at the paws of the mighty Warlord Bowfleg. Even though she hated him and his horde, Bowfleg imposed a figure of importance and danger. "Danger" meaning that his mood could be dangerous to anybeast who provoked it. And Bowfleg was no sissy when it came to fighting. "So, wodd do you feel now, eh? We 'ave you tied oop. Wodd d'you say to dat, hunh?" Santhe tried not to blanch as the Warlord pulled her close, practically breathing down her neck. "You may have me captured, but you'll never capture Noonvale!" Bowfleg roared with laughter and released her, tossing her face-first into the dirt again. "Kyahahahahayukyukyuk! Big words for a small mouse." He picked up his curved sabre and began sharpening it, taking sideways glances at Santhe. "Metinks I'll cut oop your liddle friends into liddle pieces an' feed dem to de fishes, eh, preddy one?" Santhe gritted her teeth in anger at being called "preddy one" by one so repulsive. "You just try it. We have good fighters, and a huge army is coming towards Noonvale right now. If you try attacking Noonvale, that army will defeat you quicker than you can draw that blade." Of course Santhe knew that this wasn't true, and wasn't ever going to be, she felt extremely angry at Bowfleg and all vermin that existed. Bowfleg smiled and went on sharpening, hiding his surprise. "An' army, eh? We kin defeat any army. I 'ave three 'undred unner my command, an' all are gudd fighters." Santhe spat her answer back at him. "Our army has over 500 hundred warriors, and they could scrap you lot any day." Now the young mousemaid was surprised at her own temper, as Bowfleg was. On the outside, Santhe was as beautiful as a summer morn, but on the inside, she was like a flame, burning those who dared to get close. She glared at the ferret, and was glad to see that he was deep in thought, obviously pondering whether his attack would go well. When he spoke, it was not to her. "Wildag! Cumm in 'ere, h'take dissen wurm outta my sight." The mousemaid couldn't help but feel happy, she felt she had saved the world, even though she had just saved Noonvale with a few insults. The ferret Captain bowed and brought his whip down on Santhe, inflicting a small cut on her arm. "Common you, up on your paws!" Santhe could not help a parting shot at the Warlord. "I see you've decided to chicken out, eh? Shows that you're a coward and a bully on the inside, you're no Warlord!" Bowfleg winked and grabbed a bottle of damson wine. "So you say, bud dat won' stopp me frum capturing your village. We kin take care o' your army. Kyahahahahahaha!" Santhe started. She was shocked on the inside, but was careful not to show it. "No! You can't do that! The army will-" Bowfleg cut her off, standing and pointing the saber he had drawn in the blink of an eye at her throat. "Dere is no army, is dere? I know you're lying, preddy one, an' your lies aren't going t'stopp me crushing your village!" He emphasized the word "crushing" with a light tap of the saber under her chin. He whirled around again, the flowing red cape twirling as he sat back down in his chair, satisfied with the way he settled the argument.
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Jorell and co. decided that Santhe went to her favorite place to think, the spot by the river on the edge of Noonvale, which also happened to be her mother's favorite spot when she was younger. Jorell ran ahead, hoping to see Santhe probably staring into the river with her own thoughts.... but saw nothing. He plopped dejectedly on a willow stump as the others, breathing heavily, arrived. He spoke his troubled thoughts aloud. "I don't get it. We can't find her anywhere, and she would never run away from Noonvale." Dammy was not quite the athletic type, but the gears in his mind usually turned the right way, even if they were a bit rusty. Huffing and puffing, he lectured the group. He broke a long, slender but sturdy twig from a willow tree hanging over him, using it as a pointer. "Righto, m'lad, an' first if y'want t'get to step number two, y'have t'use good ol'logic. 'Tis bally simple. Just narrow down the jolly ol' choices an' you've got it." Jorell nodded slowly, unconciously pulling the grass while listening to Dammy. "So, what are the possibilities?" "Righto, just gettin' down t'that. Now, we've bally well scoured Noonvale, every bloomin' nook and cranny. So, we use simple logic to know that she jolly well isn't in the residence anymore, wot." Nytestripe pretended to stifle a yawn as Dammy continued with his authoratic air. The young hare tapped Nytestripe sharply on the head. "Pay attention, y'stripey lump, or you'll never learn! Now, where was I? Oh yes, now... since Santhe isn't in Noonvale, she must be bally well out! But since we know our friend wouldn't do a blasted thing such as running away, we have to eliminate that as well." Dallum sighed loudly and plucked the pointer from Dammy's paw. "So, what choices do we have left, floppy ears?" Dammy grabbed the pointer back rather indignantly. "Hmph! Floppy ears yourself, spikey nose! I was just gettin' down t'that. If Santhe didn't leave Noonvale on her own bally will..." Here Jorell cut him off as realization dawned on him. He leapt up excitedly. "Yes! Then somebody forced her! Which also means..." The five friends looked at each other, thinking the same thing. "Santhe was kidnapped!" Jorell was so excited, he could hardly speak. "C'mon, we've got to go tell the rest at Noonvale!" He started running... but was lifted into the air... by another creature! It was a nasty-looking weasel, whom which she and her companion looked quite please with themselves. "Aye, laddie, yer friend wuz captured, but now so are yew!"