Andrew rapped his paw on the door to Hake's hut, and waited for about half
a minute. When nobeast answered, the mouse walked around the hut and into
the trees. After about a minute of walking, he came across his mentor,
Hake, sitting alone with his eyes closed on a rock behind the hut.
Even though the old mouse's fur had turned grey, he was still a better warrior than even Gormin. Yet for some reason, he had stayed out of the Stormrat War and every other form of conflict except defending his hut from the local villains. Andrew had asked why, but Hake had answered his questions with a plea for privacy. Like a good student and friend, Andrew had not pried further.
Hake's ears twitched as Andrew approached, and he turned to greet the younger mouse with a smile on his face. "You came through the storm," he said, shaking his head and chuckling. "Reckless. I wouldn't expect that from somebody as cautious as yourself, Andrew."
Andrew's ears turned red. "It wasn't raining or windy when I left Redwall, Hake. There was no reason to believe that there was going to be a storm last night."
After letting out a rasping laugh, Hake pointed at Andrew's damp clothing. "Take those off, young 'un. I plan to talk to you and train you, and you can't do either very while when you're uncomfortable." Andrew began to take his clothes off, but modesty got the best of him and he refrained from taking off his breeches. "If you're that modest, go use some of the spare clothes you brought here last time and change inside my hut." Andrew nodded and turned around. Before he was out of earshot, he heard Hake mutter, "It's not as if some pretty mousemaid is going to wander along and see him without his clothes on."
Feeling more embarrassed than even his friend Ellen had made him in quite a while, Andrew walked into Hake's hut and looked around for the spare clothes he had brought. He had left them by the door when he arrived last time, but Hake had moved them since the last time he had visited the mouse. After a quick scan of the inside of the hut, Andrew spotted his clothing tucked away under a battered wooden chair in an unused area of the hut. Andrew took off his damp breeches, and put on the clothing that was under the chair. Then he put his sword belt back on, and walked out.
When he exited the hut, Hake was nowhere to be seen. Andrew sighed, and drew his sword from its sheath. Hake did this to him often, to test his wits and see if he could remain aware of his surroundings. The older mouse would leap out at him from wherever he was hiding, trying to beat Andrew to the ground with a sturdy staff or throwing sticks and stones at him. In the past, Andrew had only managed to fend off Hake once. He could've had me while I was slipping my clothes on, though Andrew. I should be careful...
The young mouse looked into every bush, and reached out his hearing to pick out anything that wouldn't pass as a normal noise that would be heard in Mossflower. He knew that doing so wouldn't help him much, since Hake had learned long ago to blend in with the noises of the woodlands, but it was better to be wary than careless.
Andrew walked forward slowly, keeping his sword raised in front of him and listening to every woodland sound. At every snap of a twig, his muscles tensed, but when Hake didn't leap from the bushes he relaxed. The younger mouse moved forward, and didn't stop. If he stopped moving, he would be an easier target for Hake if the older mouse chose to throw sticks or stones at him. The first time Hake had done that, Andrew had had his footpaws planted firmly on the ground, and was unable to move away in time. This time, he was ready for thrown objects.
The first attack came from Andrew's right. A pebble flew through the air, straight toward where Andrew was standing. The mouse jumped back, letting the pebble go sailing past him, and turned to face the bushes where the attack had come from. He inched forward slowly, keeping himself ready to jump out of the way if he needed to and watching and listening carefully for any movement that would signal Hake's retreat.
Try as he might, Andrew couldn't see or hear anything out of the ordinary in the bushes. He started to back away, wondering where Hake had gone. When he was several meters from the bushes, he heard a snap from the bushes to the right and turned his head in that direction.
Hake jumped out of the bushes that he had thrown the pebble at Andrew from and threw a pawful of twigs and dirt at the younger mouse's face. Andrew ducked his head and swung his sword at Hake, who blocked the strike with his metal staff. With agility that was surprising for anybeast of his age, Hake jumped back, pointed the staff at Andrew, and lunged. Andrew stepped aside as quickly as he could, and swung his sword so the flat of the blade would catch Hake in his side. But the older mouse jumped away and brought his staff up again.
"You're getting better at this, young un'," said Hake, grinning at Andrew. He was missing teeth, probably from fighting when he was younger, but Andrew had known Hake for several seasons and didn't take notice. "But don't think you can beat a seasoned warrior like me. Give it all you've got, and don't go easy on me. I can see that you don't want to hit me with the sharp of that blade, so let me tell you this - you won't."
If anyone had the right to make a claim like that, it was Hake. Andrew might fare well when he practiced with his fellow Redwallers such as his friend Luc, and occasionally Ellen. Even the Abbeybeasts a few seasons older than him were unable to best him. Only beasts that were old enough and experienced enough to have fought in the Stormrat War were able to beat him, and none of them other than his father and Gormin took him seriously. So out of the beasts that Andrew practiced with, only Hake gave him a challenge, and Andrew was certain that his mentor was holding back when they practiced.
Andrew drew back from Hake, and held his sword out in front of him. The older mouse also stepped back, and crouched down with his staff held in front of him. After a few moments of waiting, Hake sprung forward, swinging his staff toward Andrew. He parried, and swung his sword at his Hake. The older beast jumped back, and waited until Andrew's momentum left him open to an attack, and lunged forward again. Andrew only managed to dodge by jerking back suddenly. With a heavier weapon, his muscles would've had to strain to pull back like that, but this sword was short and light, so he was able to make quick movements with it without strain.
Hake turned toward Andrew, and put his staff up in a defensive position. He tensed his legs, and Andrew braced himself for another lunge. But instead of leaping forward to attack, he jumped back and sprinted off into the bushes.
This caught Andrew completely by surprise. Hake had never run from him before, and Andrew immediately assumed that his mentor was leading him into some sort of trap. But losing sight of the mouse would be worse than following him, so Andrew sprinted after him, his sword held at his side.
For any other beast his age, running with a sword in paw, even one as light as the blade Andrew wielded, would have been a strain. But Hake had made Andrew run laps with his own sword, a heavy broadsword that Hake kept in peak condition, to condition him for running with a weapon in paw. Even after working with the broadsword, Andrew was still not strong enough to fight with a heavier blade as well as he fought with his own sword. He needed to practice more with a bigger weapon, he realized as he ran.
Andrew was able to keep up a good pace in his pursuit, but soon his muscles began to ache. His steps didn't falter, though, and he kept following Hake as the mouse dodged between trees, over roots, and sometimes even around stones and tree trunks. Caution came first, and Andrew was ready for Hake to leap out at him at any time. A few times, Hake ducked behind a tree. When he did, Andrew ran the other way so he could see his mentor instead of charging straight ahead.
After a few more minutes of this pursuit, Hake came to a stream flowing across the woodlands. Instead of turning, Hake bounded forward and jumped across the flowing water. He just barely made his leap, and continued running after he had crossed the stream. Andrew felt frustration boil up within him. He had never made a leap like this before. Did Hake expect him to be able to do it as easily as he had? Obviously, yes, since the mouse had continued on into the trees. Taking a deep breath, Andrew slid his sword into its sheath and ran even faster. Luckily, his leg muscles were up to the task. When he reached the bank of the stream, he threw himself into the air.
He didn't make it. Although the jump was impressive for a mouse of his age, he fell short of the other bank by about a quarter of the distance. He felt his footpaws sink into the water, and he drew in his breath.
When his footpaws touched bottom when the stream was only up to his waste, he felt like a fool. He stumbled on the pebbles gathered under the water and plunged headfirst into the stream. Andrew flailed his limbs and shoved up against the bottom of the stream, and brought his head up above the water. He reached up a paw to wipe the water from his eyes, but was stopped when Hake's metal staff swung down in front of his face.
Andrew gazed up at Hake, who was smiling at Andrew. "I hope that teaches you to look before you leap, young un'," he said. "This stream flows into the River Moss, and it's quite small compared to that one. You should've looked for a crossing, or just tried to see how deep this stream was. But you didn't, and now you've soaked yet another set of clothing. You've got only one more, and if you dirty that one before your other two dry, you'll have to sit around in wet clothing or stay nude." Hake reached out a paw for Andrew, who grasped it and allowed Hake to pull him to the other bank of the stream. "And we both know that you wouldn't like either of those."
Hake led Andrew to a wooden bridge a short way up the stream. "I had to practice many times before being able to make that jump. I made this bridge myself so I could cross the stream when I was younger. And just so you know, there is no reason to jump streams other than to test the strength of your legs. Or if you were chasing someone, like you were me."
When Andrew and Hake arrived back at the cottage, Andrew changed into his last set of clothing and hung his two other sets on a tree branch so they could dry. Hake began to prepare a meal, and Andrew went to sit on the rock that Hake had been at when he arrived. Even though it was hard, it was comfortable, and Andrew was able to sit on it without the least bit of discomfort.
The young mouse closed his eyes and allowed his mind to wander to Ellen and Luc, his best friends at Redwall. He wondered where they were, and if they were worried about him. Andrew had sat through storms before, but that one had taken him by surprise.
All too soon, Hake called out to Andrew that the meal he had been preparing was ready. Sighing reluctantly, Andrew heaved himself up from the rock and walked toward the hut, and the food that was waiting for him.
~~~
Sergeant Polwyn had just set out from Salamandastron with two score hares under his command. Including young Merlin. Lord Rocketh sighed from one of Salamandastron's entrances as he watched them run off into the distance. It was such a pity to see beasts so young departing for war, but it was a necessity. Without the contribution of eager beasts like Merlin, the woodlands would be left defenseless and innocent beasts left at the mercy of the Stormrats.
Lord Rocketh chuckled to himself as he thought this, recalling that he had only been Salamandastron's Badger Lord for a bit less than four seasons. Compared to Lord Sunforge, he was as young and inexperienced as Merlin was to an older Long Patrol hare. But Rocketh felt as if he had been born to rule Salamandastron, and for all he knew, he had been. Merlin, on the other paw, had been born in a rough part of Mossflower and made his way to the Long Patrol to escape his life there. He did make a good, if inexperienced, runner, but he had become a Long Patroller out of necessity. He wouldn't have been here if it weren't for his unfortunate circumstances.
The Badger Lord shook his head, trying to clear his mind. It was unlike him to think so much about one particular Long Patroller, especially one as inexperienced as Merlin. Maybe he was getting to attached to the hare, or perhaps the guilt he was experiencing for sending him off to war had a greater effect on him than he knew.
Lord Rocketh turned around and walked back into Salamandastron, closing the entrance behind him. He encountered the occasional hare in the halls, and they were quick to salute and greet him, even though most of them had lived under Lord Sunforge's rule before Lord Rocketh's. I'll never live up to that beast's legacy, thought Rocketh bitterly as he walked through the tunnels of his mountain fortress. Lord Sunforge will go down in history as the brave Badger Lord who fought the Stormrats, and if I am remembered at all it will be as his replacement.
Being a Badger Lord was a solemn duty, and the rulers of Salamandastron were remembered through their accomplishments. Lord Brocktree had founded the Long Patrol, Sunflash the Mace had defeated Swartt Sixclaw, and Lord Rawnblade had helped bring about the downfall of Gabool the Wild. The list went on and on. But sometimes Rocketh wondered which Badger Lords' names had been lost to the knowledge of the Long Patrol and the beasts of Mossflower, and worried that he would be one of them. After all, who would bother to remember a Badger Lord who had done no great deeds in their life?
Rocketh slowly climbed up the stairs that led to the third level of the mountain fortress. His quarters were on that level, and the Badger Lord was overcome by a desire to sleep. But when he came to his quarters, he decided not to go to sleep. He felt too restless, and decided to pace his quarters instead of going back outside. It was easier for him to think in here, which he was able to think of as his domain. Even though the spacious room had been used by Badger Lords who had lived generations before him, Rocketh considered it a place that he belonged more than anywhere else in Salamandastron.
Sometimes, if Lord Rocketh tried hard enough, he could feel the spirits of the Badger Lords that had lived in these chambers in the past. It was as if their memory stood guard over Salamandastron from this place where they spent much of their time in it. But somehow, Rocketh did not find the presence of the Badger Lords pleasant or encouraging. In the times that he could imagine their presence, he felt the greatness of their spirits, and despaired of ever being anything when compared to them.
The glory of the Badger Lords that had ruled this very mountain haunted Lord Rocketh's dreams. Somehow, they had all managed to stand out - through war, peace, or just their personalities. They'd taken care of everything that they had needed to at the time, and some had stood out above the others and done more. How was Lord Rocketh, Badger Lord for only four seasons and with an untried paw in war, supposed to drive off a vermin horde led by, of all beasts, a Stormrat? Lord Sunforge had managed it, but the war cost the Long Patrol so many lives that Salamandastron had still not recovered. To his mind, Lord Rocketh had no hope at all of overcoming what the badger that had been Lord before him almost fell to. It's you that these hares need, not me, thought Lord Rocketh, directing his thoughts not only at Lord Sunforge, but all the Badger Lords that had ruled before him. I cannot lead the Long Patrol as you could, I cannot fight as you have. Why is it me who stands barring the path of the Stormrat's horde, and not any of you?
Groaning in frustration, Lord Rocketh walked over to the window in his wall. Light flowed in through it, but the badger was not looking at the sun's light. He stared out at the sea. His mountain stood guard against raiders from the sea, as well as pirates and slavers. This threat, too, came from the sea, but they had landed further south, in the direction that the Stormrats had landed five seasons ago. If the leader of the horde wanted to, he could lead the army east instead of toward Salamandastron. But Lord Rocketh was confident that the leader of the vermin would head to Salamandastron, since much of the war was fought there. It was what he would have done if he were as vengeful as the Stormrat leading the horde was likely to be. But there was always the chance that he was wrong, as Merlin had reminded him. So he had sent out a patrol under Sergeant Polwyn. Their orders were to harass the vermin horde, but their real purpose was to inform Rocketh if the horde did anything that he didn't expect.
After a few minutes of staring out at the sea, Lord Rocketh turned around and walked toward the door to his quarters. He went downward, this time, with a destination in mind. He was going to talk to Colonel Jeffrey.
Lord Rocketh found the colonel in the dining hall. Some hares bustled about, but they were paying no attention to Jeffrey and gave the Badger Lord only a passing glance. Jeffrey was sitting at one of the long tables, staring forlornly ahead of him. He heard Lord Rocketh coming long before the badger reached him, but Jeffrey only looked up when Rocketh stood right beside him.
"Hello, sire," said Jeffrey when Rocketh got close to him. The hare didn't look at Rocketh, but he was definitely aware of the badger's presence. "I'm sorry for not being more social, but I'm worried about Sergeant Polwyn and his troops. Wot can two score hares do against a horde led by a Stormrat? The entirety of the Long Patrol almost lost against those vermin five seasons ago, so wot can Polwyn do?"
"Polwyn can keep track of the vermin and make sure they don't go anywhere but Salamandastron. If they do, we must be ready to march. But that isn't why I'm here." Lord Rocketh moved to stand at Colonel Jeffrey's side. "You fought in the Stormrat War. What can you tell me about the way those beasts think? I've never fought a Stormrat before, and I'd like to know what to expect." In truth, Lord Rocketh had only fought once in his seasons as Badger Lord of Salamandastron, and that was against a small group of searats that had made the mistake of landing near Salamandastron. But he didn't want Colonel Jeffrey to recall his inexperience. It would be bad enough to serve under a Badger Lord not nearly as experienced as the one he'd served before he was killed in combat. He didn't want to remind Jeffrey of how unfortunate it was that Rocketh was the Lord of Salamandastron.
"The Stormrats had disciplined their horde better than any other vermin warlord that I've heard of," began Jeffrey. "In fact, I think that they were the equals of the Long Patrol in terms of discipline. I hope that this horde is different. There's the chance that it will be, since the Stormrats were defeated in Mossflower, and vermin would be less likely to pledge their allegiance to a beast who had lost a war before. But there's always the chance that this Stormrat would be able to discipline his horde as well as the horde that fought in the Stormrat war. It's best to assume the worst, so we can prepare for it and not be caught by surprise.
"But the Stormrats were as cunnin' as any other vermin. Their strategies were treacherous, and could be credited to the mind of any vermin leader of seasons past. I think that if Lord Sunforge hadn't died in battle, he would've met his end some other way thanks to the vermin. Even so, I don't think their horde was prone to infightin' or discontent. Even when they were caught between two armies of goodbeasts in Mossflower, they stood their ground until a retreat was ordered. I don't think any other army that the Long Patrol has ever faced was quite as dangerous as them."
Lord Rocketh shook his head grimly. "Redwall had better come to our aid. Without them, we won't stand a chance against the Stormrats."
Jeffrey nodded. "That's wot I was thinkin', sah. But I don't think the Redwallers will be likely t' refuse. They've got beasts who fought in the Stormrat War, and they, at least, 'd remember wot it was like to battle against them. So unless our friends in Redwall have forgotten wot it's like to be at war with Stormrats, I don't think we'll be wantin' for assistance."
Rocketh stood in silence beside Colonel Jeffrey for a time. The colonel stood to leave, but Rocketh reached out a paw to stop him. "Colonel, why do you and the other hares follow me?" asked Rocketh quietly after making sure that none of the other hares were within hearing range. "I might be a Badger Lord, but I'm inexperienced, and I can't even compare to Lord Sunforge. Why do you stay here?"
Jeffrey turned around and looked at Lord Rocketh in surprise. "You're the mountain's Badger Lord. Like it or not, it's the Long Patrol's duty to obey you, and I don't think there's a hare among us that minds. You may be inexperienced, but you're the Badger Lord. Lord Sunforge was a great beast, but he didn't start out that way. I wasn't there when he started to rule Salamandastron, but I imagine he started out just like you did."
Lord Rocketh shook his head. "I can't even make a decent weapon," he said, sighing. "When the horde finally comes to Salamandastron, I'll be using a weapon that Lord Sunforge made for me, not one that I forged with my own paws. At best, I'm a beginner at forging weapons. Compared to every other badger that ruled this mountain, I'm a failure."
Colonel Jeffrey clasped Lord Rocketh's shoulder with his paw. "You'll get better as you go along, wot? You can't expect to be an expert weaponsmith right when you start. Some of the Badger Lords have been, I'm sure, but if they were, they prolly had some sort o' unnatural gift for it. If you don't, you'll have to make do with wot skills you do have." The colonel stood and left, leaving Lord Rocketh to his thoughts.
The Badger Lord departed soon afterward, the words of the colonel playing through his mind. You'll have to make do with wot skills you do have. "The sword is mine then," he said to himself. "At least, it is until I forge one of my own." He walked on, slightly more confident that he belonged in the mountain of the Badger Lords. "Maybe someday I will earn a position in history."
Even though the old mouse's fur had turned grey, he was still a better warrior than even Gormin. Yet for some reason, he had stayed out of the Stormrat War and every other form of conflict except defending his hut from the local villains. Andrew had asked why, but Hake had answered his questions with a plea for privacy. Like a good student and friend, Andrew had not pried further.
Hake's ears twitched as Andrew approached, and he turned to greet the younger mouse with a smile on his face. "You came through the storm," he said, shaking his head and chuckling. "Reckless. I wouldn't expect that from somebody as cautious as yourself, Andrew."
Andrew's ears turned red. "It wasn't raining or windy when I left Redwall, Hake. There was no reason to believe that there was going to be a storm last night."
After letting out a rasping laugh, Hake pointed at Andrew's damp clothing. "Take those off, young 'un. I plan to talk to you and train you, and you can't do either very while when you're uncomfortable." Andrew began to take his clothes off, but modesty got the best of him and he refrained from taking off his breeches. "If you're that modest, go use some of the spare clothes you brought here last time and change inside my hut." Andrew nodded and turned around. Before he was out of earshot, he heard Hake mutter, "It's not as if some pretty mousemaid is going to wander along and see him without his clothes on."
Feeling more embarrassed than even his friend Ellen had made him in quite a while, Andrew walked into Hake's hut and looked around for the spare clothes he had brought. He had left them by the door when he arrived last time, but Hake had moved them since the last time he had visited the mouse. After a quick scan of the inside of the hut, Andrew spotted his clothing tucked away under a battered wooden chair in an unused area of the hut. Andrew took off his damp breeches, and put on the clothing that was under the chair. Then he put his sword belt back on, and walked out.
When he exited the hut, Hake was nowhere to be seen. Andrew sighed, and drew his sword from its sheath. Hake did this to him often, to test his wits and see if he could remain aware of his surroundings. The older mouse would leap out at him from wherever he was hiding, trying to beat Andrew to the ground with a sturdy staff or throwing sticks and stones at him. In the past, Andrew had only managed to fend off Hake once. He could've had me while I was slipping my clothes on, though Andrew. I should be careful...
The young mouse looked into every bush, and reached out his hearing to pick out anything that wouldn't pass as a normal noise that would be heard in Mossflower. He knew that doing so wouldn't help him much, since Hake had learned long ago to blend in with the noises of the woodlands, but it was better to be wary than careless.
Andrew walked forward slowly, keeping his sword raised in front of him and listening to every woodland sound. At every snap of a twig, his muscles tensed, but when Hake didn't leap from the bushes he relaxed. The younger mouse moved forward, and didn't stop. If he stopped moving, he would be an easier target for Hake if the older mouse chose to throw sticks or stones at him. The first time Hake had done that, Andrew had had his footpaws planted firmly on the ground, and was unable to move away in time. This time, he was ready for thrown objects.
The first attack came from Andrew's right. A pebble flew through the air, straight toward where Andrew was standing. The mouse jumped back, letting the pebble go sailing past him, and turned to face the bushes where the attack had come from. He inched forward slowly, keeping himself ready to jump out of the way if he needed to and watching and listening carefully for any movement that would signal Hake's retreat.
Try as he might, Andrew couldn't see or hear anything out of the ordinary in the bushes. He started to back away, wondering where Hake had gone. When he was several meters from the bushes, he heard a snap from the bushes to the right and turned his head in that direction.
Hake jumped out of the bushes that he had thrown the pebble at Andrew from and threw a pawful of twigs and dirt at the younger mouse's face. Andrew ducked his head and swung his sword at Hake, who blocked the strike with his metal staff. With agility that was surprising for anybeast of his age, Hake jumped back, pointed the staff at Andrew, and lunged. Andrew stepped aside as quickly as he could, and swung his sword so the flat of the blade would catch Hake in his side. But the older mouse jumped away and brought his staff up again.
"You're getting better at this, young un'," said Hake, grinning at Andrew. He was missing teeth, probably from fighting when he was younger, but Andrew had known Hake for several seasons and didn't take notice. "But don't think you can beat a seasoned warrior like me. Give it all you've got, and don't go easy on me. I can see that you don't want to hit me with the sharp of that blade, so let me tell you this - you won't."
If anyone had the right to make a claim like that, it was Hake. Andrew might fare well when he practiced with his fellow Redwallers such as his friend Luc, and occasionally Ellen. Even the Abbeybeasts a few seasons older than him were unable to best him. Only beasts that were old enough and experienced enough to have fought in the Stormrat War were able to beat him, and none of them other than his father and Gormin took him seriously. So out of the beasts that Andrew practiced with, only Hake gave him a challenge, and Andrew was certain that his mentor was holding back when they practiced.
Andrew drew back from Hake, and held his sword out in front of him. The older mouse also stepped back, and crouched down with his staff held in front of him. After a few moments of waiting, Hake sprung forward, swinging his staff toward Andrew. He parried, and swung his sword at his Hake. The older beast jumped back, and waited until Andrew's momentum left him open to an attack, and lunged forward again. Andrew only managed to dodge by jerking back suddenly. With a heavier weapon, his muscles would've had to strain to pull back like that, but this sword was short and light, so he was able to make quick movements with it without strain.
Hake turned toward Andrew, and put his staff up in a defensive position. He tensed his legs, and Andrew braced himself for another lunge. But instead of leaping forward to attack, he jumped back and sprinted off into the bushes.
This caught Andrew completely by surprise. Hake had never run from him before, and Andrew immediately assumed that his mentor was leading him into some sort of trap. But losing sight of the mouse would be worse than following him, so Andrew sprinted after him, his sword held at his side.
For any other beast his age, running with a sword in paw, even one as light as the blade Andrew wielded, would have been a strain. But Hake had made Andrew run laps with his own sword, a heavy broadsword that Hake kept in peak condition, to condition him for running with a weapon in paw. Even after working with the broadsword, Andrew was still not strong enough to fight with a heavier blade as well as he fought with his own sword. He needed to practice more with a bigger weapon, he realized as he ran.
Andrew was able to keep up a good pace in his pursuit, but soon his muscles began to ache. His steps didn't falter, though, and he kept following Hake as the mouse dodged between trees, over roots, and sometimes even around stones and tree trunks. Caution came first, and Andrew was ready for Hake to leap out at him at any time. A few times, Hake ducked behind a tree. When he did, Andrew ran the other way so he could see his mentor instead of charging straight ahead.
After a few more minutes of this pursuit, Hake came to a stream flowing across the woodlands. Instead of turning, Hake bounded forward and jumped across the flowing water. He just barely made his leap, and continued running after he had crossed the stream. Andrew felt frustration boil up within him. He had never made a leap like this before. Did Hake expect him to be able to do it as easily as he had? Obviously, yes, since the mouse had continued on into the trees. Taking a deep breath, Andrew slid his sword into its sheath and ran even faster. Luckily, his leg muscles were up to the task. When he reached the bank of the stream, he threw himself into the air.
He didn't make it. Although the jump was impressive for a mouse of his age, he fell short of the other bank by about a quarter of the distance. He felt his footpaws sink into the water, and he drew in his breath.
When his footpaws touched bottom when the stream was only up to his waste, he felt like a fool. He stumbled on the pebbles gathered under the water and plunged headfirst into the stream. Andrew flailed his limbs and shoved up against the bottom of the stream, and brought his head up above the water. He reached up a paw to wipe the water from his eyes, but was stopped when Hake's metal staff swung down in front of his face.
Andrew gazed up at Hake, who was smiling at Andrew. "I hope that teaches you to look before you leap, young un'," he said. "This stream flows into the River Moss, and it's quite small compared to that one. You should've looked for a crossing, or just tried to see how deep this stream was. But you didn't, and now you've soaked yet another set of clothing. You've got only one more, and if you dirty that one before your other two dry, you'll have to sit around in wet clothing or stay nude." Hake reached out a paw for Andrew, who grasped it and allowed Hake to pull him to the other bank of the stream. "And we both know that you wouldn't like either of those."
Hake led Andrew to a wooden bridge a short way up the stream. "I had to practice many times before being able to make that jump. I made this bridge myself so I could cross the stream when I was younger. And just so you know, there is no reason to jump streams other than to test the strength of your legs. Or if you were chasing someone, like you were me."
When Andrew and Hake arrived back at the cottage, Andrew changed into his last set of clothing and hung his two other sets on a tree branch so they could dry. Hake began to prepare a meal, and Andrew went to sit on the rock that Hake had been at when he arrived. Even though it was hard, it was comfortable, and Andrew was able to sit on it without the least bit of discomfort.
The young mouse closed his eyes and allowed his mind to wander to Ellen and Luc, his best friends at Redwall. He wondered where they were, and if they were worried about him. Andrew had sat through storms before, but that one had taken him by surprise.
All too soon, Hake called out to Andrew that the meal he had been preparing was ready. Sighing reluctantly, Andrew heaved himself up from the rock and walked toward the hut, and the food that was waiting for him.
~~~
Sergeant Polwyn had just set out from Salamandastron with two score hares under his command. Including young Merlin. Lord Rocketh sighed from one of Salamandastron's entrances as he watched them run off into the distance. It was such a pity to see beasts so young departing for war, but it was a necessity. Without the contribution of eager beasts like Merlin, the woodlands would be left defenseless and innocent beasts left at the mercy of the Stormrats.
Lord Rocketh chuckled to himself as he thought this, recalling that he had only been Salamandastron's Badger Lord for a bit less than four seasons. Compared to Lord Sunforge, he was as young and inexperienced as Merlin was to an older Long Patrol hare. But Rocketh felt as if he had been born to rule Salamandastron, and for all he knew, he had been. Merlin, on the other paw, had been born in a rough part of Mossflower and made his way to the Long Patrol to escape his life there. He did make a good, if inexperienced, runner, but he had become a Long Patroller out of necessity. He wouldn't have been here if it weren't for his unfortunate circumstances.
The Badger Lord shook his head, trying to clear his mind. It was unlike him to think so much about one particular Long Patroller, especially one as inexperienced as Merlin. Maybe he was getting to attached to the hare, or perhaps the guilt he was experiencing for sending him off to war had a greater effect on him than he knew.
Lord Rocketh turned around and walked back into Salamandastron, closing the entrance behind him. He encountered the occasional hare in the halls, and they were quick to salute and greet him, even though most of them had lived under Lord Sunforge's rule before Lord Rocketh's. I'll never live up to that beast's legacy, thought Rocketh bitterly as he walked through the tunnels of his mountain fortress. Lord Sunforge will go down in history as the brave Badger Lord who fought the Stormrats, and if I am remembered at all it will be as his replacement.
Being a Badger Lord was a solemn duty, and the rulers of Salamandastron were remembered through their accomplishments. Lord Brocktree had founded the Long Patrol, Sunflash the Mace had defeated Swartt Sixclaw, and Lord Rawnblade had helped bring about the downfall of Gabool the Wild. The list went on and on. But sometimes Rocketh wondered which Badger Lords' names had been lost to the knowledge of the Long Patrol and the beasts of Mossflower, and worried that he would be one of them. After all, who would bother to remember a Badger Lord who had done no great deeds in their life?
Rocketh slowly climbed up the stairs that led to the third level of the mountain fortress. His quarters were on that level, and the Badger Lord was overcome by a desire to sleep. But when he came to his quarters, he decided not to go to sleep. He felt too restless, and decided to pace his quarters instead of going back outside. It was easier for him to think in here, which he was able to think of as his domain. Even though the spacious room had been used by Badger Lords who had lived generations before him, Rocketh considered it a place that he belonged more than anywhere else in Salamandastron.
Sometimes, if Lord Rocketh tried hard enough, he could feel the spirits of the Badger Lords that had lived in these chambers in the past. It was as if their memory stood guard over Salamandastron from this place where they spent much of their time in it. But somehow, Rocketh did not find the presence of the Badger Lords pleasant or encouraging. In the times that he could imagine their presence, he felt the greatness of their spirits, and despaired of ever being anything when compared to them.
The glory of the Badger Lords that had ruled this very mountain haunted Lord Rocketh's dreams. Somehow, they had all managed to stand out - through war, peace, or just their personalities. They'd taken care of everything that they had needed to at the time, and some had stood out above the others and done more. How was Lord Rocketh, Badger Lord for only four seasons and with an untried paw in war, supposed to drive off a vermin horde led by, of all beasts, a Stormrat? Lord Sunforge had managed it, but the war cost the Long Patrol so many lives that Salamandastron had still not recovered. To his mind, Lord Rocketh had no hope at all of overcoming what the badger that had been Lord before him almost fell to. It's you that these hares need, not me, thought Lord Rocketh, directing his thoughts not only at Lord Sunforge, but all the Badger Lords that had ruled before him. I cannot lead the Long Patrol as you could, I cannot fight as you have. Why is it me who stands barring the path of the Stormrat's horde, and not any of you?
Groaning in frustration, Lord Rocketh walked over to the window in his wall. Light flowed in through it, but the badger was not looking at the sun's light. He stared out at the sea. His mountain stood guard against raiders from the sea, as well as pirates and slavers. This threat, too, came from the sea, but they had landed further south, in the direction that the Stormrats had landed five seasons ago. If the leader of the horde wanted to, he could lead the army east instead of toward Salamandastron. But Lord Rocketh was confident that the leader of the vermin would head to Salamandastron, since much of the war was fought there. It was what he would have done if he were as vengeful as the Stormrat leading the horde was likely to be. But there was always the chance that he was wrong, as Merlin had reminded him. So he had sent out a patrol under Sergeant Polwyn. Their orders were to harass the vermin horde, but their real purpose was to inform Rocketh if the horde did anything that he didn't expect.
After a few minutes of staring out at the sea, Lord Rocketh turned around and walked toward the door to his quarters. He went downward, this time, with a destination in mind. He was going to talk to Colonel Jeffrey.
Lord Rocketh found the colonel in the dining hall. Some hares bustled about, but they were paying no attention to Jeffrey and gave the Badger Lord only a passing glance. Jeffrey was sitting at one of the long tables, staring forlornly ahead of him. He heard Lord Rocketh coming long before the badger reached him, but Jeffrey only looked up when Rocketh stood right beside him.
"Hello, sire," said Jeffrey when Rocketh got close to him. The hare didn't look at Rocketh, but he was definitely aware of the badger's presence. "I'm sorry for not being more social, but I'm worried about Sergeant Polwyn and his troops. Wot can two score hares do against a horde led by a Stormrat? The entirety of the Long Patrol almost lost against those vermin five seasons ago, so wot can Polwyn do?"
"Polwyn can keep track of the vermin and make sure they don't go anywhere but Salamandastron. If they do, we must be ready to march. But that isn't why I'm here." Lord Rocketh moved to stand at Colonel Jeffrey's side. "You fought in the Stormrat War. What can you tell me about the way those beasts think? I've never fought a Stormrat before, and I'd like to know what to expect." In truth, Lord Rocketh had only fought once in his seasons as Badger Lord of Salamandastron, and that was against a small group of searats that had made the mistake of landing near Salamandastron. But he didn't want Colonel Jeffrey to recall his inexperience. It would be bad enough to serve under a Badger Lord not nearly as experienced as the one he'd served before he was killed in combat. He didn't want to remind Jeffrey of how unfortunate it was that Rocketh was the Lord of Salamandastron.
"The Stormrats had disciplined their horde better than any other vermin warlord that I've heard of," began Jeffrey. "In fact, I think that they were the equals of the Long Patrol in terms of discipline. I hope that this horde is different. There's the chance that it will be, since the Stormrats were defeated in Mossflower, and vermin would be less likely to pledge their allegiance to a beast who had lost a war before. But there's always the chance that this Stormrat would be able to discipline his horde as well as the horde that fought in the Stormrat war. It's best to assume the worst, so we can prepare for it and not be caught by surprise.
"But the Stormrats were as cunnin' as any other vermin. Their strategies were treacherous, and could be credited to the mind of any vermin leader of seasons past. I think that if Lord Sunforge hadn't died in battle, he would've met his end some other way thanks to the vermin. Even so, I don't think their horde was prone to infightin' or discontent. Even when they were caught between two armies of goodbeasts in Mossflower, they stood their ground until a retreat was ordered. I don't think any other army that the Long Patrol has ever faced was quite as dangerous as them."
Lord Rocketh shook his head grimly. "Redwall had better come to our aid. Without them, we won't stand a chance against the Stormrats."
Jeffrey nodded. "That's wot I was thinkin', sah. But I don't think the Redwallers will be likely t' refuse. They've got beasts who fought in the Stormrat War, and they, at least, 'd remember wot it was like to battle against them. So unless our friends in Redwall have forgotten wot it's like to be at war with Stormrats, I don't think we'll be wantin' for assistance."
Rocketh stood in silence beside Colonel Jeffrey for a time. The colonel stood to leave, but Rocketh reached out a paw to stop him. "Colonel, why do you and the other hares follow me?" asked Rocketh quietly after making sure that none of the other hares were within hearing range. "I might be a Badger Lord, but I'm inexperienced, and I can't even compare to Lord Sunforge. Why do you stay here?"
Jeffrey turned around and looked at Lord Rocketh in surprise. "You're the mountain's Badger Lord. Like it or not, it's the Long Patrol's duty to obey you, and I don't think there's a hare among us that minds. You may be inexperienced, but you're the Badger Lord. Lord Sunforge was a great beast, but he didn't start out that way. I wasn't there when he started to rule Salamandastron, but I imagine he started out just like you did."
Lord Rocketh shook his head. "I can't even make a decent weapon," he said, sighing. "When the horde finally comes to Salamandastron, I'll be using a weapon that Lord Sunforge made for me, not one that I forged with my own paws. At best, I'm a beginner at forging weapons. Compared to every other badger that ruled this mountain, I'm a failure."
Colonel Jeffrey clasped Lord Rocketh's shoulder with his paw. "You'll get better as you go along, wot? You can't expect to be an expert weaponsmith right when you start. Some of the Badger Lords have been, I'm sure, but if they were, they prolly had some sort o' unnatural gift for it. If you don't, you'll have to make do with wot skills you do have." The colonel stood and left, leaving Lord Rocketh to his thoughts.
The Badger Lord departed soon afterward, the words of the colonel playing through his mind. You'll have to make do with wot skills you do have. "The sword is mine then," he said to himself. "At least, it is until I forge one of my own." He walked on, slightly more confident that he belonged in the mountain of the Badger Lords. "Maybe someday I will earn a position in history."