Thank you, one and all! I managed to write another chapter, (I was afraid
other people would track me down and kill me if I didn't...) and here it
is! I didn't put that much effort into it, but it's worth reading anyway.
*sighs*
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Chapter Eighteen: Captors and the Captured
Poor Mrs. Stickle ran back into the Brockhall kitchen. "Chibb! You said they'd be back soon!" Chibb lifted his head momentarily from a bowl of candied chestnuts. Unfortunately, the robin had been stuffing himself with the sweet chestnuts ever since he had come back to Mossflower, and the Noonvale healer's potion had worn off, so his cough had come back. "Harrumph, hmph. I did, as a matter of fact. Arrahemhem, 'scuse me. They were, ahem, rather close to Brockhall when I left them, so, harrumph, they should be arriving here any moment now. Ahemcarumphhmphglophsnchhem!" Everybeast present averted their eyes as Chibb turned his full attention back to the bowl of chestnuts in front of him. Columbine spoke. "Indeed, but it's been almost ages since you came back, anything could have happened to them since then!" Murmurs of agreement and discussion broke out. "She's right, y'know, what with Tsarmina's horde's out." "True, but Bella and that mouse Martin seemed to know what they were doing, they should be back soon." "Maybe they got lost?" "Rubbish! Skipper and Lady Amber would never get themselves lost in Mossflower!" "What if they never come back?" Abbess Germaine grabbed a ladle and rapped a cooking pot rather loudly, cracking it down the center. "What nonsense! All of you know as a fact that Bella, Lady Amber, and Skipper are well enough to take care of themselves. They probably stopped to camp because it was getting dark and will arrive in the early morning. Discussion finished! Everybeast to bed now!" Columbine followed the Abbess into the kitchen, where the kindly old mouse was putting dishes away from the dinner that evening. "Mother Abbess, you know that they wouldn't stop to camp if they knew they were close to Brockhall. You're only giving little hope." Abbess Germaine wiped a plate and put it in the cupboard. "Yes, my child, but little hope is better than none. Anything could have happened to them. We can't do much about it. None of us here are fighters. In fact, I'd say we are the ones in danger, since Bella and Martin of Noonvale took all those capable of fighting." At that moment, the kitchen door slammed open with an earsplitting bang, and a weasel wearing a bright-red cloak waving in the wind appeared in the doorway, paws and hips, with a victorious sneer on his face. Columbine did her best not to scream. "Mother Abbess! Tell the others! Go and help them escape!" Brogg twirled his spear, rather clumsily, and grinned maliciously at the two mice. "I'll say you're in danger, granny, now that Cap'n Brogg's command o'soldiers in yer precious liddle tree house." The young mousemaid grabbed a bread knife threating Brogg, while still trying to usher the Abbess out of the room. "You dare touch her and I'll spike you right through, you ungrateful vermin!" Brogg chuckled, savoring his moment of triumph. "Brave words fer a pretty maid like you. The rest of my soldiers have already captured yer liddle friends upstairs." The weasel flicked a speck of dust off his shoulder before continuing. "An' if y'wanted ter know wot 'appened t'yer precious 'warriors', they're all dead. Some of our soldiers saw 'em comin' an' wiped 'em out, jus' like that." Brogg remarked airily, and brought his spear down, thumping loudly on the floor. Even though he knew that what he said was most likely the other way around, he knew that the thought petrified the two mice in front of him, giving him more advantage. "Knowin' yer defenseless, I jus' mosied on over 'ere, and captured this place fer meself." Columbine raised the bread knife. "You're lying. That was an unforgivable and terrible lie." Brogg admired himself in a polished cooking pan. "Garr, how'd yew guess? Ter tell the truth, yore all prisoners of Tsarmina Greeneye, Ruler of the Thousand Eyes, Kotir, Mossflower, and now yer pitiful friends!"
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Skipper leaned over Trefoil, who was washing her blood-stained spear in the River Moss. "Guess what!" Trefoil poked the spear butt gently into Skipper's stomach. "Tell me now, y'great lump, I'm dying of suspense." Skipper rubbed his stomach. "We found the right way!" The squirrel rolled her eyes. "At last." Bella spoke. "Now really, you two, cut it out. All of us have gone through a lot. Two battles in one day is enough for anybeast. I congratulate all of you for winning this second battle." A round of applause and cheers rippled through the Mossflower/Noonvale army. "Now, we should concentrate full on getting back to Brockhall. No doubt the others are worried about us." Ballaw raised his sling. "No doubt the others have prepared a victory feast for us bally warriors, wot. Onwards to the jolly old tucker!" Kastern shook her head in mock sadness. "Only a glutton could say something like that."
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Brogg was enjoying life. He had captured the rest of the annoying little Mossflower residents and conquered their silly little hideout called "Brockhall". Tsarmina would probably make him emperor of Mossflower for carrying out her plans so perfectly. Well, maybe Ratflank's squad didn't do too well, but who cared about him? He wasn't exactly popular with the Kotir soldiers. Everything was going as planned. Even though he had threatened to kill the woodlanders many times, he did it only to instill awe into his soldiers and fear into the rotten little woodlanders. He knew if he did kill one of them, Tsarmina would have his rotting head on a spear thrown into the River Moss. But it was fun all the same. Tsarmina's orders were to capture the woodlanders and bring them right back, but what did it matter if he waited a day or two? After all, the weather wasn't exactly good enough to travel in. Anyway, he had to have his share of fun. He had everybeast under his mercy. He knew he could probably even stay there at Brockhall, but Tsarmina would eventually find out what happened and track him down.... and everybeast saw what she did to traitors. Sometimes living a normal life can be dangerous.
$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$
The little hedgehog Friltip giggled to himself while stabbing at his imaginary enemies. "Take that, y'walloping weasel! Cummon, show me what you're made of! Swish! Thump! Gotcha! Gotcha again! Take that'n'that'n'that!" Suddenly a pair of paws grabbed his shoulders and pulled him roughly into the bushes. Poor Friltip was terrified out of his wits. "I'm s-s-sorry, mister! P-p-p-please l-let me g-go! I'll d-do anything!" Skipper of Otters held in his contempt. "Put a latch on it, matey, 's just me. You should watch where y'going, almost walkin' slapbang into a guard ferret there." The relief was plain to see on Friltip's face, even though he still didn't quite know how close he was to being killed or captured. Skipper left Friltip in care of Trefoil and Kastern, who kept a rather sharp eye on the mischieveous rascal, and went to have a conference with Bella, Lady Amber, Rowanoak and Ballaw. Ballaw yawned and tossed a chesnut in his mouth. "So, what's the trouble wakin' a chap in the middle of his jolly ole' midnight scoff, eh?" Lady Amber dealt him a sharp rap on his head when she saw Skipper's face turn grim. "We're in big trouble now, mateys, deep down in trouble." Rowanoak exchanged a concerned glance with her sister. "What kind of trouble, Skip?" Skipper jerked his head toward the woodlands they knew Brockhall was located. "Brockhall was captured, or conquered, ye migh' say." Bella drew in a sharp breath. "But surely Goody Stickle or the Abbess could have prevented it...." The Skipper of Otters shook his head. "Not while we were out there fightin' our own battle. That pussycat's soldiers did a mighty fine job of taking our only headquarters an' our friends." Ballaw's ears drooped. "So what d'we blinkin' do now?" Lady Amber ran her paw down her longbow. "Wait for an opportunity, and hope luck's on our side when the time comes." The five Mossflower and Noonvale leaders sat in silence, watching the rays of dawn poke through rosy red clouds, hoping desperately that their own friends were still alive, knowing luck and a miracle were the only things that could get them out now.
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Feedback and comments (ahem, compliments) would be much appreciated. (hint, hint) :-)
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Chapter Eighteen: Captors and the Captured
Poor Mrs. Stickle ran back into the Brockhall kitchen. "Chibb! You said they'd be back soon!" Chibb lifted his head momentarily from a bowl of candied chestnuts. Unfortunately, the robin had been stuffing himself with the sweet chestnuts ever since he had come back to Mossflower, and the Noonvale healer's potion had worn off, so his cough had come back. "Harrumph, hmph. I did, as a matter of fact. Arrahemhem, 'scuse me. They were, ahem, rather close to Brockhall when I left them, so, harrumph, they should be arriving here any moment now. Ahemcarumphhmphglophsnchhem!" Everybeast present averted their eyes as Chibb turned his full attention back to the bowl of chestnuts in front of him. Columbine spoke. "Indeed, but it's been almost ages since you came back, anything could have happened to them since then!" Murmurs of agreement and discussion broke out. "She's right, y'know, what with Tsarmina's horde's out." "True, but Bella and that mouse Martin seemed to know what they were doing, they should be back soon." "Maybe they got lost?" "Rubbish! Skipper and Lady Amber would never get themselves lost in Mossflower!" "What if they never come back?" Abbess Germaine grabbed a ladle and rapped a cooking pot rather loudly, cracking it down the center. "What nonsense! All of you know as a fact that Bella, Lady Amber, and Skipper are well enough to take care of themselves. They probably stopped to camp because it was getting dark and will arrive in the early morning. Discussion finished! Everybeast to bed now!" Columbine followed the Abbess into the kitchen, where the kindly old mouse was putting dishes away from the dinner that evening. "Mother Abbess, you know that they wouldn't stop to camp if they knew they were close to Brockhall. You're only giving little hope." Abbess Germaine wiped a plate and put it in the cupboard. "Yes, my child, but little hope is better than none. Anything could have happened to them. We can't do much about it. None of us here are fighters. In fact, I'd say we are the ones in danger, since Bella and Martin of Noonvale took all those capable of fighting." At that moment, the kitchen door slammed open with an earsplitting bang, and a weasel wearing a bright-red cloak waving in the wind appeared in the doorway, paws and hips, with a victorious sneer on his face. Columbine did her best not to scream. "Mother Abbess! Tell the others! Go and help them escape!" Brogg twirled his spear, rather clumsily, and grinned maliciously at the two mice. "I'll say you're in danger, granny, now that Cap'n Brogg's command o'soldiers in yer precious liddle tree house." The young mousemaid grabbed a bread knife threating Brogg, while still trying to usher the Abbess out of the room. "You dare touch her and I'll spike you right through, you ungrateful vermin!" Brogg chuckled, savoring his moment of triumph. "Brave words fer a pretty maid like you. The rest of my soldiers have already captured yer liddle friends upstairs." The weasel flicked a speck of dust off his shoulder before continuing. "An' if y'wanted ter know wot 'appened t'yer precious 'warriors', they're all dead. Some of our soldiers saw 'em comin' an' wiped 'em out, jus' like that." Brogg remarked airily, and brought his spear down, thumping loudly on the floor. Even though he knew that what he said was most likely the other way around, he knew that the thought petrified the two mice in front of him, giving him more advantage. "Knowin' yer defenseless, I jus' mosied on over 'ere, and captured this place fer meself." Columbine raised the bread knife. "You're lying. That was an unforgivable and terrible lie." Brogg admired himself in a polished cooking pan. "Garr, how'd yew guess? Ter tell the truth, yore all prisoners of Tsarmina Greeneye, Ruler of the Thousand Eyes, Kotir, Mossflower, and now yer pitiful friends!"
--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=- =--=--=--=
Skipper leaned over Trefoil, who was washing her blood-stained spear in the River Moss. "Guess what!" Trefoil poked the spear butt gently into Skipper's stomach. "Tell me now, y'great lump, I'm dying of suspense." Skipper rubbed his stomach. "We found the right way!" The squirrel rolled her eyes. "At last." Bella spoke. "Now really, you two, cut it out. All of us have gone through a lot. Two battles in one day is enough for anybeast. I congratulate all of you for winning this second battle." A round of applause and cheers rippled through the Mossflower/Noonvale army. "Now, we should concentrate full on getting back to Brockhall. No doubt the others are worried about us." Ballaw raised his sling. "No doubt the others have prepared a victory feast for us bally warriors, wot. Onwards to the jolly old tucker!" Kastern shook her head in mock sadness. "Only a glutton could say something like that."
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- =-=-=-
Brogg was enjoying life. He had captured the rest of the annoying little Mossflower residents and conquered their silly little hideout called "Brockhall". Tsarmina would probably make him emperor of Mossflower for carrying out her plans so perfectly. Well, maybe Ratflank's squad didn't do too well, but who cared about him? He wasn't exactly popular with the Kotir soldiers. Everything was going as planned. Even though he had threatened to kill the woodlanders many times, he did it only to instill awe into his soldiers and fear into the rotten little woodlanders. He knew if he did kill one of them, Tsarmina would have his rotting head on a spear thrown into the River Moss. But it was fun all the same. Tsarmina's orders were to capture the woodlanders and bring them right back, but what did it matter if he waited a day or two? After all, the weather wasn't exactly good enough to travel in. Anyway, he had to have his share of fun. He had everybeast under his mercy. He knew he could probably even stay there at Brockhall, but Tsarmina would eventually find out what happened and track him down.... and everybeast saw what she did to traitors. Sometimes living a normal life can be dangerous.
$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$
The little hedgehog Friltip giggled to himself while stabbing at his imaginary enemies. "Take that, y'walloping weasel! Cummon, show me what you're made of! Swish! Thump! Gotcha! Gotcha again! Take that'n'that'n'that!" Suddenly a pair of paws grabbed his shoulders and pulled him roughly into the bushes. Poor Friltip was terrified out of his wits. "I'm s-s-sorry, mister! P-p-p-please l-let me g-go! I'll d-do anything!" Skipper of Otters held in his contempt. "Put a latch on it, matey, 's just me. You should watch where y'going, almost walkin' slapbang into a guard ferret there." The relief was plain to see on Friltip's face, even though he still didn't quite know how close he was to being killed or captured. Skipper left Friltip in care of Trefoil and Kastern, who kept a rather sharp eye on the mischieveous rascal, and went to have a conference with Bella, Lady Amber, Rowanoak and Ballaw. Ballaw yawned and tossed a chesnut in his mouth. "So, what's the trouble wakin' a chap in the middle of his jolly ole' midnight scoff, eh?" Lady Amber dealt him a sharp rap on his head when she saw Skipper's face turn grim. "We're in big trouble now, mateys, deep down in trouble." Rowanoak exchanged a concerned glance with her sister. "What kind of trouble, Skip?" Skipper jerked his head toward the woodlands they knew Brockhall was located. "Brockhall was captured, or conquered, ye migh' say." Bella drew in a sharp breath. "But surely Goody Stickle or the Abbess could have prevented it...." The Skipper of Otters shook his head. "Not while we were out there fightin' our own battle. That pussycat's soldiers did a mighty fine job of taking our only headquarters an' our friends." Ballaw's ears drooped. "So what d'we blinkin' do now?" Lady Amber ran her paw down her longbow. "Wait for an opportunity, and hope luck's on our side when the time comes." The five Mossflower and Noonvale leaders sat in silence, watching the rays of dawn poke through rosy red clouds, hoping desperately that their own friends were still alive, knowing luck and a miracle were the only things that could get them out now.
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Feedback and comments (ahem, compliments) would be much appreciated. (hint, hint) :-)