Five seasons ago, Cain had stood in front of Martin's tapestry much like he
was standing now. Then, he had been confident in his skills, and had
trusted that the spirit of Martin would protect him. The Stormrat War had
proved to Cain that he was nearly insignificant in battle. His confidence
had not vanished, but he had become more grim when it came to war, and life
in general. And he was not sure if he believed that Martin's spirit
watched over Redwall. He used to, but after losing Kelly his faith in
Martin's spirit had wavered.
"Listen to me, mouse," he said, after looking around to make sure no other beast would be around to overhear his private conversation with Martin the Warrior. "You took Kelly from me, and I'll never forgive you for letting that happen. I'm not even sure if your spirit is here at Redwall. Maybe this tapestry is just another picture, and the "miracles" you've performed are nothing more than the imaginations of us Redwallers. But I'd like to believe that you're watching us from beyond the gates of Dark Forest. So I'll ask this of you, if you're there. No, I'll beg it of you. Please, let Andrew survive this war, and let him become a better beast than I have been. And Martin... please let me die. Life is meaningless without Kelly, and I want to be with her in Dark Forest. But I won't kill myself, for the sake of my son. So please let me die an honorable death that Andrew will be able to speak of with pride in his voice."
After making his requests of the long-dead warrior, Cain stood back and stared at the tapestry. He didn't know what, but he expected the mouse to do something, perhaps send some sort of sign from within Dark Forest or giving him some sort of vision that would say that his requests were granted. But after Cain had passed minutes waiting for some sort of sign from Martin, he finally decided that the dead warrior would not speak to him. Cain glared at the tapestry and shook his fist. He knew the gesture was futile, but he wanted some way to express his anger at Martin.
"You can't make demands of Martin," said a voice from behind him. Cain whirled around and brought his paws up to punch whoever had snuck up on him. It was Gormin, though, and he let his arms fall to his sides. "I've tried demanding things of Martin's spirit," the Champion continued, his voice bitter. "I never got anything from him. No sword, no respect, none of the things he had. Why does he taunt me like this?"
"Who ever said he was taunting you?" asked Cain. "And how do you know that Martin's spirit is actually here, in Redwall? How do we know that he can touch us from within Dark Forest? Why do we place our trust in the spirit of a dead warrior? We need to trust ourselves, not some spirit that may or may not be watching over us."
"Cain, I like to have hope," said Gormin, looking at the tapestry. "I like to believe that Martin is watching over us, and that we don't have to manage every bit of our lives by ourselves. Things are so much... lighter when there's something or someone other than ourselves and what we see every day that we can believe in. I know I might not seem the type, but I can't believe that there is nothing that us beasts can have faith in. Martin founded this Abbey, and I believe that he still watches over us today."
"I lost all my hope and faith when I lost Kelly," snapped Cain, glaring at Gormin.
The squirrel sighed and shook his head. "Losing your wife has changed you, Cain. I remember you when you were younger. You were happier than any of the rest of us. Even when you grew older, your happiness remained something that guided you through life and encouraged everyone around you. Your depression after the war hurt us more than you know. Not only are you unhappy, you withdrew from the beasts that were trying to help you and paid no attention to any of them."
"I only want to be with Kelly," answered Cain, clenching his paws into fists. "I would still be friendly if Kelly was here, but there's no reason for me to try since she isn't. Without her, I don't see any reason why I should keep living. I can't enjoy it at all. Even raising Andrew isn't the same without Kelly by my side."
Gormin shook his head again. "I understand how you feel. I would hate life too, if there was no reason for me to live." He bowed his head for a moment, as if in thought. When he raised it again, Cain knew that the squirrel had figured something out, though he couldn't guess what. "I'm going to wait out side for the rest of Redwall to finish eating their lunch. If I were you, I'd get some food. We're setting out right after we eat, and there'll be no time to stop the march for snacks until dark."
Gormin left Cain standing alone in Great Hall. The feast for the departing warriors was being held in Cavern Hole, for the reason that Abbess Elm wanted to give beasts a chance to speak with Martin's tapestry in private. So far, Cain was the only beast that had done so. He glanced in the direction of Cavern Hole. He wasn't very hungry, as he had eaten a hearty breakfast.
Instead of Cavern Hole, Cain went to his dormitory. Up there, he donned his leather breastplate and strapped on his sword belt and hooked on his sword. Then, he went back down the stairs and outside, to where Gormin, Jacob, and a few warriors who had decided against attending the farewell meal were waiting.
Jacob caught Cain's eye and walked away from the other beasts to intercept the mouse as he approached. Cain felt his heart quicken. Perhaps something had happened to the beasts that were being kept drugged in the gatehouse. No, even Jacob wouldn't be able to stay calm in a situation like that. "They're still asleep," the recorder said when he got close enough to Cain.
The mouse gave a relieved smile. "Just keep them that way for a day and a half more and we'll be okay. We are going to fight this war."
Slowly, Redwallers began coming out of the Abbey and onto the grounds. Otters, mice, squirrels, and a few hedgehogs marched forward, taking whatever positions they pleased and waiting for the rest of the warriors to come out. Cain, too, watched the doors of the main Abbey building, but with a great deal more patience than most of the other beasts. He saw Skipper come out, talking animatedly with two otter companions. I wonder if those otters knew... Cain mentally clamped down on the thought before it could completely form.
Colin was one of the next beasts out of the door. He came over to Cain, wary for some reason, but apparently willing to talk. Cain remembered what Gormin had said in the Great Hall about pushing other beasts away, and made himself talk with Colin. He tried his best not to be bitter, and kept the topic of the conversation light and easy to relate to. Colin seemed surprised but pleased, and Cain found himself remembering happier times when Colin was more to him than a companion. When we were younger... Cain thought, and was surprised to find himself close to tears.
By the time the rest of Redwall's warriors had filed out, Cain had regained control of himself. Cain and Colin talked awkwardly, but companionably as their comrades lined up and prepared to leave the Abbey. Skipper stood at the head of the otters, and Gormin and Candice stood in front of Redwall's army. Cain and Colin were mixed in with the other soldiers, but Cain felt somehow that he was one of the beasts leading the army on.
All in all, the army of Redwall was almost one hundred fifty beasts strong. There were over two score more warriors, but it had been decided that they should stay behind at the Abbey in case something unexpected happened. More proof that our deception is justified, though Cain. He waited patiently for the rest of the beasts to form into a marching column.
When they had arranged themselves neatly enough for Gormin's satisfaction, he nodded to Abbess Elm, and she stepped forward. She raised a paw to silence those beasts who were speaking among themselves, and then started to speak. The Abbess had probably prepared the speech before that moment, but Cain was somehow sure that even if they were planned out, they came from her heart.
"Good beasts of Redwall, we've come here this afternoon to bid our warriors farewell, and wish them the best of luck and the protection of Martin's spirit as they make their journey to Salamandastron. They carry the banner of Redwall into war, and everybeast within this Abbey wishes them well." A few snorts came from the direction of the beasts that were staying behind; the Abbey had been divided on the issue of whether or not to go to war, and though Abbess Elm and the beasts that did support war tried to put on an encouraging face for the beasts that were marching off to fight the vermin horde, most of the departing warriors were well aware that their actions were not supported by many of the Abbeybeasts.
"Now, let's give our warriors one final farewell and send them on their way. The horde will be upon Salamandastron in a matter of days, according to Candice, and we cannot leave Lord Rocketh standing alone. Everybeast and every minute counts. Now, be on your way."
The Abbess ended her speech, and the main gates of Redwall were opened to let the warriors through. They marched slowly at first, but when they passed through the main gates and reached the air outside of Redwall, the beasts began to pick up their pace and march relentlessly west.
"So, we're going to be marching until nightfall?" asked Colin, standing next to hm. Cain nodded in response. "It reminds me of when I was younger. You weren't there when the Redwallers set out at the start of our part in the Stormrat War, but we went in the same direction and stopped at nightfall, too. Gormin wanted to continue on through the night, but Skipper managed to convince him that our warriors needed rest. We were better off in the morning because of it, and I think Gormin has learned his lesson."
The day passed slowly for Cain, but he managed to converse with Colin as he hadn't in seasons. Both the mouse and the squirrel enjoyed the experience, and it seemed to both of them that they had re-established their bond of friendship that Cain's grief-filled seasons had severed. He felt remorse for his actions, but he couldn't bring himself to apologize for them. I love Kelly fiercely, with all my heart, he thought, walking alongside Colin. Her love brought me this far in life, and I can still feel it, even now that she's beyond my reach. She's waiting for me in Dark Forest, and I'll see her there when my time comes. I've been such a fool. Tears came to Cain's eyes once again as he thought this, but he didn't bother to brush them away. He kept marching, and though Colin noticed the wetness of his eyes, he didn't mention it at all.
It seemed that Gormin had learned from experience. By the time the light from the sun had faded from above them, the Redwallers were well into Mossflower Wood. Instead of pushing them further, Gormin told them to halt and light campfires. They ate their dinner with much conversation, and the flames from the fire warmed everybeast.
After he had eaten, Cain spread out his bedroll on the ground next to Colin. The squirrel tried to hide his delight, but Cain could still see that the gesture meant a lot to him. He laid himself down, and stared up through the branches at the stars and the moon in the sky. For once, his thoughts didn't turn to his wife, though she seemed to lurk at the edge of his mind. He thought instead about his son, Andrew, and his two friends that hopefully were still drugged in the gatehouse. Cain's son was fiercely loyal to his friends, almost as loyal as Cain had been to Kelly. He would naturally be angry with his father for what he had done to them, but Cain had no doubt that he would see the necessity of it. Since he had separated himself from most of the beasts that dwelled within the Abbey, he was able to see the relations between other beasts more clearly. Though he had never mentioned it, Cain was sure that the division between the Abbeybeasts was obvious to Andrew. He was sure to see that without Cain's actions, there was no way that Redwall's warriors would be marching toward Salamandastron, and that his father had made the best decision he could have.
But would Andrew forgive him? When he was the age of his son, anybeast that had done that sort of thing to Kelly or one of his friends would soon be made to regret it. His sense of right and wrong had been a lot more fierce at that age, even if his judgment was impaired by inexperience. Andrew was mature for his age, and would doubtless see the need for Cain's actions, but would that be enough to erase the anger he would feel at seeing what Cain had done to his friends?
No, it probably wouldn't, admitted Cain to himself. But the anger would not be enough to erase the feelings of love that Andrew felt for Cain. That, he was certain of. Of all the beasts to walk the land Andrew would be one of the last beasts I'd do harm to. Kelly is dead. And the only other beast to hold my friendship is Colin, the father of one of the beasts that I had drugged and is being imprisoned in the gatehouse. What a sad beast I am.
Cain laid still for some time, looking up at the stars and thinking fond thoughts of his son and times that had passed in the days before the Stormrat War. Other beasts had fallen straight to sleep, like Colin had beside him. Somebeasts lay awake in their bed like Cain did, but instead of thinking about times past and beast that had been lost, they were thinking nervous thoughts about the coming conflict. But all of the warriors that had left Redwall were asleep on their bedrolls, except for the beasts that had been chosen by Skipper and Gormin to keep watch. The silence around him and the peacefulness of the night sky lured Cain to sleep. He didn't even notice as his mind slipped away from his memories and into dreams of what would come.
~~~
The night was not so calm for the Long Patrol. Sergeant Polwyn and his hares followed the vermin horde as stealthily as they could, but they did not risk an attack because of the many guards that the vermin's leader had posted around the perimeter of their encampment. Polwyn had tried to find a safe way for his hares to attack, but he was unable to find a way around the vermin guards. Now, half his hares were asleep and the rest were spread out around them, keeping watch for any vermin attack. "This is a bad predicament I got us all into," he muttered, staring out from behind a boulder at the vermin encampment. "Maybe it would've been for th' best if Lord Rocketh stripped me of my rank th' day I managed to get my scouts ambushed by those beasts."
A hare sitting near Polwyn overheard the sergeant's lamentations and offered him some words of comfort. "'twasn't your fault, Sergeant. Neither you or Lord Rocketh had any way o' knowin' that this horde was lurkin' south o' Salamandastron. If it hadn't been for you, these vermin would probably have caught us all by surprise. There'd be no time for a runner to get to Redwall and come back with aid. By th' time the warriors of that Abbey could get to Salamandastron, we'd be dead. Your gettin' ambushed was for the best, sah."
Polwyn looked at the hare and thought about what she had said. "You might be right," he said at last. "But there's still no guarantee that th' Redwallers'll come to help us. It all depends on Candice, an' the way that she deals with those Abbeybeasts. They've probably reached a decision already. But there's no way for us to know what they've decided, wot?"
The hare held the sergeant's gaze for a few moments, and then turned her head away to look back out at the vermin encampment. They had started campfires from the driftwood they could find on the shore or near it. They didn't dare venture too far east of the shore for fear of running into the Long Patrol, so they were limited to what they had gathered. If nothing else, the hares that Sergeant Polwyn had brought on his trek south would make it difficult for the vermin in the horde to keep warm.
That was some beast we saw today, thought Polwyn, turning his thoughts to the Stormrat that had made its appearance after the Long Patrol ambush. Polwyn had fought in the Stormrat War, but he had never seen a Stormrat that looked that fierce during the war. And he didn't remember the Stormrat that took part in the ambush that had killed many of his hares a few days ago being that large. Maybe there was something impressive about him today, he thought. And I didn't get a very good look at the Stormrat that ambushed us.
Once again, Polwyn changed the focus of his thoughts. This time, he considered how the Redwallers would be likely to respond to Candice's message. In the few times that he had visited the Abbey, he had met many beasts that seemed like they would be opposed to war if it ever occurred. According to a rumor among the Long Patrol, there had been groups of Redwallers that had protested sending out an army to fight in the Stormrat War, even though it was quite plainly necessary.
But then there were the beasts who saw the truth, plain and simple, no matter how hard it might be. Redwall's Champion, Gormin, had been one of those beasts. Even though he had never fought in a war before, he was able to adapt quickly and fight almost as efficiently as an experienced Long Patroller. He had never objected to the fight, even when his comrades were slain around him. He might not have liked the war, but he had understood the necessity.
Redwall's Skipper of otters was another beast that managed to impress Polwyn with his ability to see the truth and lead the beasts that followed him based on it. There had been no question when the Redwallers reached Salamandastron that Skipper and his otters were ready and willing to fight the Stormrats' horde. During the course of the war, Skipper had managed to make many difficult decisions, some resulting in a loss of life among the beasts who were under his command. But Skipper bore the weight of his decisions with heroic strength, and even though he felt guilt when beasts died because of orders he had given, he hadn't stepped down from his duty.
Those two beasts were sure to see the necessity of war. No matter how many Redwallers were vehemently opposed to war, they would not budge from their position. Sergeant Polwyn believed that they would set out on their own, if they had to, to assist Lord Rocketh in defending Salamandastron. The right path would be clear enough to a beast as perceptive as Gormin had proven himself to be. And Redwall's Skipper would certainly see that Salamandastron needed to be defended. Even if he came without many supporters, the Long Patrol could use his leadership in the battles that were certain to come.
But would they be able to convince other Redwallers to come? Even if those two beasts did come to Salamandastron, they would make little difference in the outcome of the battle. But if they could convince the rest of Redwall that sending an army of warriors to Salamandastron would turn the tide of battle against these vermin, Salamandastron and Mossflower Country just might have a chance after all.
What am I to the beasts who I will fight beside? Polwyn asked himself. He doubted that any of the Redwallers would recognize him unless they fought alongside him in the last war, and too few of the beasts from Redwall had done that for him to be recognized by them. To Lord Rocketh, he was a hare with more experience than the rest. He would be relying on Polwyn to direct the younger hares and prepare them for the battle that was to come. And to the hares who were under his command, he was a leader that they trusted with their lives. It seemed that every hare who he commanded took his orders to heart, and trusted him to know what was the best solution to the situation at paw. Will I make a difference at all? That question made him wonder about what his real purpose as a hare of the Long Patrol was, and his confidence was shaken by the fact that he didn't know the answer.
I wonder if that runner is alright. Polwyn turned his thoughts away from his uncomfortable doubts and to one of the beasts that was under his command. He had escaped the wrath of the vermin horde, and was on his way to inform Lord Rocketh what had happened when the hares and vermin had clashed. Polwyn suddenly realized that he hadn't told Merlin what Lord Rocketh would want to hear. He might be ambitious, but he wasn't experienced in situations like these. He could only hope that the runner said what Lord Rocketh needed to hear, or that the Badger Lord would interrogate him until he got the information he needed.
As he thought this, a sudden sensation of despair descended on Polwyn's shoulders. Will we win this war? Are Redwall's warriors on their way to help us, or are they going to sit at their Abbey until it's too late? Is anything I do in this war going to make a difference?
But even though he didn't know the answers to many of his questions, he knew that there would be a reliable beast leading the war against the Stormrats. Lord Rocketh might be inexperienced, but he had been chosen by fate to be Salamandastron's Badger Lord. If that didn't speak for a beast, nothing did. With the help of more experienced Long Patrollers, Lord Rocketh would be able to lead the beasts of Salamandastron almost as well as Lord Sunforge had in the seasons before his death. Lord Rocketh wouldn't be Salamandastron's Badger Lord otherwise.
The hare that had reassured him before caught Polwyn's attention again with a loud whisper. "Sah, look at that! Unless I'm missin' my guess, which I'm not, that's a bird movin' away from the vermin camp. I can't be sure from this distance, but I think that's an eagle."
Sergeant Polwyn followed the hare's gaze. By the faint light of the moon, the sergeant could see the figure of a large bird hobbling away from the shore, flapping one wing as if to help itself walk and keeping the other still at its side. The bird hopped atop a boulder, and stared up at the moon. Then, it spread its wings. Though the gesture obviously caused it pain, it leaped off the boulder and flapped both wings desperately. For a few moments, it looked as if the bird would be able to stay in the air, but the winged beast's wings failed and it fell to the ground.
"Poor beast," muttered the hare next to Polwyn as the bird got up on it's legs and hobbled back to the vermin camp. The bird had held itself high when it had walked out to the boulder, even though its hobbling walk had almost caused the sergeant to laugh. But now its head hung low, and its back drooped. "It must've been a proud flyer, once. A shame that its reduced to hobblin' along like this."
The other hare nodded, looking sympathetically after the proud beast. "Jus' thinkin' that we might have to fight that beast makes me feel... guilty. But an enemy's an enemy, wot?"
Polwyn nodded and turned his attention back to the rest of the camp. Aside from the sentries and a few beasts moving about, there didn't seem to be anybeast awake. But he could be wrong, since the moon didn't provide very much light and the fires were almost burned out. The only thing to do was to sit and watch, which Polwyn did for the rest of the night.
"Listen to me, mouse," he said, after looking around to make sure no other beast would be around to overhear his private conversation with Martin the Warrior. "You took Kelly from me, and I'll never forgive you for letting that happen. I'm not even sure if your spirit is here at Redwall. Maybe this tapestry is just another picture, and the "miracles" you've performed are nothing more than the imaginations of us Redwallers. But I'd like to believe that you're watching us from beyond the gates of Dark Forest. So I'll ask this of you, if you're there. No, I'll beg it of you. Please, let Andrew survive this war, and let him become a better beast than I have been. And Martin... please let me die. Life is meaningless without Kelly, and I want to be with her in Dark Forest. But I won't kill myself, for the sake of my son. So please let me die an honorable death that Andrew will be able to speak of with pride in his voice."
After making his requests of the long-dead warrior, Cain stood back and stared at the tapestry. He didn't know what, but he expected the mouse to do something, perhaps send some sort of sign from within Dark Forest or giving him some sort of vision that would say that his requests were granted. But after Cain had passed minutes waiting for some sort of sign from Martin, he finally decided that the dead warrior would not speak to him. Cain glared at the tapestry and shook his fist. He knew the gesture was futile, but he wanted some way to express his anger at Martin.
"You can't make demands of Martin," said a voice from behind him. Cain whirled around and brought his paws up to punch whoever had snuck up on him. It was Gormin, though, and he let his arms fall to his sides. "I've tried demanding things of Martin's spirit," the Champion continued, his voice bitter. "I never got anything from him. No sword, no respect, none of the things he had. Why does he taunt me like this?"
"Who ever said he was taunting you?" asked Cain. "And how do you know that Martin's spirit is actually here, in Redwall? How do we know that he can touch us from within Dark Forest? Why do we place our trust in the spirit of a dead warrior? We need to trust ourselves, not some spirit that may or may not be watching over us."
"Cain, I like to have hope," said Gormin, looking at the tapestry. "I like to believe that Martin is watching over us, and that we don't have to manage every bit of our lives by ourselves. Things are so much... lighter when there's something or someone other than ourselves and what we see every day that we can believe in. I know I might not seem the type, but I can't believe that there is nothing that us beasts can have faith in. Martin founded this Abbey, and I believe that he still watches over us today."
"I lost all my hope and faith when I lost Kelly," snapped Cain, glaring at Gormin.
The squirrel sighed and shook his head. "Losing your wife has changed you, Cain. I remember you when you were younger. You were happier than any of the rest of us. Even when you grew older, your happiness remained something that guided you through life and encouraged everyone around you. Your depression after the war hurt us more than you know. Not only are you unhappy, you withdrew from the beasts that were trying to help you and paid no attention to any of them."
"I only want to be with Kelly," answered Cain, clenching his paws into fists. "I would still be friendly if Kelly was here, but there's no reason for me to try since she isn't. Without her, I don't see any reason why I should keep living. I can't enjoy it at all. Even raising Andrew isn't the same without Kelly by my side."
Gormin shook his head again. "I understand how you feel. I would hate life too, if there was no reason for me to live." He bowed his head for a moment, as if in thought. When he raised it again, Cain knew that the squirrel had figured something out, though he couldn't guess what. "I'm going to wait out side for the rest of Redwall to finish eating their lunch. If I were you, I'd get some food. We're setting out right after we eat, and there'll be no time to stop the march for snacks until dark."
Gormin left Cain standing alone in Great Hall. The feast for the departing warriors was being held in Cavern Hole, for the reason that Abbess Elm wanted to give beasts a chance to speak with Martin's tapestry in private. So far, Cain was the only beast that had done so. He glanced in the direction of Cavern Hole. He wasn't very hungry, as he had eaten a hearty breakfast.
Instead of Cavern Hole, Cain went to his dormitory. Up there, he donned his leather breastplate and strapped on his sword belt and hooked on his sword. Then, he went back down the stairs and outside, to where Gormin, Jacob, and a few warriors who had decided against attending the farewell meal were waiting.
Jacob caught Cain's eye and walked away from the other beasts to intercept the mouse as he approached. Cain felt his heart quicken. Perhaps something had happened to the beasts that were being kept drugged in the gatehouse. No, even Jacob wouldn't be able to stay calm in a situation like that. "They're still asleep," the recorder said when he got close enough to Cain.
The mouse gave a relieved smile. "Just keep them that way for a day and a half more and we'll be okay. We are going to fight this war."
Slowly, Redwallers began coming out of the Abbey and onto the grounds. Otters, mice, squirrels, and a few hedgehogs marched forward, taking whatever positions they pleased and waiting for the rest of the warriors to come out. Cain, too, watched the doors of the main Abbey building, but with a great deal more patience than most of the other beasts. He saw Skipper come out, talking animatedly with two otter companions. I wonder if those otters knew... Cain mentally clamped down on the thought before it could completely form.
Colin was one of the next beasts out of the door. He came over to Cain, wary for some reason, but apparently willing to talk. Cain remembered what Gormin had said in the Great Hall about pushing other beasts away, and made himself talk with Colin. He tried his best not to be bitter, and kept the topic of the conversation light and easy to relate to. Colin seemed surprised but pleased, and Cain found himself remembering happier times when Colin was more to him than a companion. When we were younger... Cain thought, and was surprised to find himself close to tears.
By the time the rest of Redwall's warriors had filed out, Cain had regained control of himself. Cain and Colin talked awkwardly, but companionably as their comrades lined up and prepared to leave the Abbey. Skipper stood at the head of the otters, and Gormin and Candice stood in front of Redwall's army. Cain and Colin were mixed in with the other soldiers, but Cain felt somehow that he was one of the beasts leading the army on.
All in all, the army of Redwall was almost one hundred fifty beasts strong. There were over two score more warriors, but it had been decided that they should stay behind at the Abbey in case something unexpected happened. More proof that our deception is justified, though Cain. He waited patiently for the rest of the beasts to form into a marching column.
When they had arranged themselves neatly enough for Gormin's satisfaction, he nodded to Abbess Elm, and she stepped forward. She raised a paw to silence those beasts who were speaking among themselves, and then started to speak. The Abbess had probably prepared the speech before that moment, but Cain was somehow sure that even if they were planned out, they came from her heart.
"Good beasts of Redwall, we've come here this afternoon to bid our warriors farewell, and wish them the best of luck and the protection of Martin's spirit as they make their journey to Salamandastron. They carry the banner of Redwall into war, and everybeast within this Abbey wishes them well." A few snorts came from the direction of the beasts that were staying behind; the Abbey had been divided on the issue of whether or not to go to war, and though Abbess Elm and the beasts that did support war tried to put on an encouraging face for the beasts that were marching off to fight the vermin horde, most of the departing warriors were well aware that their actions were not supported by many of the Abbeybeasts.
"Now, let's give our warriors one final farewell and send them on their way. The horde will be upon Salamandastron in a matter of days, according to Candice, and we cannot leave Lord Rocketh standing alone. Everybeast and every minute counts. Now, be on your way."
The Abbess ended her speech, and the main gates of Redwall were opened to let the warriors through. They marched slowly at first, but when they passed through the main gates and reached the air outside of Redwall, the beasts began to pick up their pace and march relentlessly west.
"So, we're going to be marching until nightfall?" asked Colin, standing next to hm. Cain nodded in response. "It reminds me of when I was younger. You weren't there when the Redwallers set out at the start of our part in the Stormrat War, but we went in the same direction and stopped at nightfall, too. Gormin wanted to continue on through the night, but Skipper managed to convince him that our warriors needed rest. We were better off in the morning because of it, and I think Gormin has learned his lesson."
The day passed slowly for Cain, but he managed to converse with Colin as he hadn't in seasons. Both the mouse and the squirrel enjoyed the experience, and it seemed to both of them that they had re-established their bond of friendship that Cain's grief-filled seasons had severed. He felt remorse for his actions, but he couldn't bring himself to apologize for them. I love Kelly fiercely, with all my heart, he thought, walking alongside Colin. Her love brought me this far in life, and I can still feel it, even now that she's beyond my reach. She's waiting for me in Dark Forest, and I'll see her there when my time comes. I've been such a fool. Tears came to Cain's eyes once again as he thought this, but he didn't bother to brush them away. He kept marching, and though Colin noticed the wetness of his eyes, he didn't mention it at all.
It seemed that Gormin had learned from experience. By the time the light from the sun had faded from above them, the Redwallers were well into Mossflower Wood. Instead of pushing them further, Gormin told them to halt and light campfires. They ate their dinner with much conversation, and the flames from the fire warmed everybeast.
After he had eaten, Cain spread out his bedroll on the ground next to Colin. The squirrel tried to hide his delight, but Cain could still see that the gesture meant a lot to him. He laid himself down, and stared up through the branches at the stars and the moon in the sky. For once, his thoughts didn't turn to his wife, though she seemed to lurk at the edge of his mind. He thought instead about his son, Andrew, and his two friends that hopefully were still drugged in the gatehouse. Cain's son was fiercely loyal to his friends, almost as loyal as Cain had been to Kelly. He would naturally be angry with his father for what he had done to them, but Cain had no doubt that he would see the necessity of it. Since he had separated himself from most of the beasts that dwelled within the Abbey, he was able to see the relations between other beasts more clearly. Though he had never mentioned it, Cain was sure that the division between the Abbeybeasts was obvious to Andrew. He was sure to see that without Cain's actions, there was no way that Redwall's warriors would be marching toward Salamandastron, and that his father had made the best decision he could have.
But would Andrew forgive him? When he was the age of his son, anybeast that had done that sort of thing to Kelly or one of his friends would soon be made to regret it. His sense of right and wrong had been a lot more fierce at that age, even if his judgment was impaired by inexperience. Andrew was mature for his age, and would doubtless see the need for Cain's actions, but would that be enough to erase the anger he would feel at seeing what Cain had done to his friends?
No, it probably wouldn't, admitted Cain to himself. But the anger would not be enough to erase the feelings of love that Andrew felt for Cain. That, he was certain of. Of all the beasts to walk the land Andrew would be one of the last beasts I'd do harm to. Kelly is dead. And the only other beast to hold my friendship is Colin, the father of one of the beasts that I had drugged and is being imprisoned in the gatehouse. What a sad beast I am.
Cain laid still for some time, looking up at the stars and thinking fond thoughts of his son and times that had passed in the days before the Stormrat War. Other beasts had fallen straight to sleep, like Colin had beside him. Somebeasts lay awake in their bed like Cain did, but instead of thinking about times past and beast that had been lost, they were thinking nervous thoughts about the coming conflict. But all of the warriors that had left Redwall were asleep on their bedrolls, except for the beasts that had been chosen by Skipper and Gormin to keep watch. The silence around him and the peacefulness of the night sky lured Cain to sleep. He didn't even notice as his mind slipped away from his memories and into dreams of what would come.
~~~
The night was not so calm for the Long Patrol. Sergeant Polwyn and his hares followed the vermin horde as stealthily as they could, but they did not risk an attack because of the many guards that the vermin's leader had posted around the perimeter of their encampment. Polwyn had tried to find a safe way for his hares to attack, but he was unable to find a way around the vermin guards. Now, half his hares were asleep and the rest were spread out around them, keeping watch for any vermin attack. "This is a bad predicament I got us all into," he muttered, staring out from behind a boulder at the vermin encampment. "Maybe it would've been for th' best if Lord Rocketh stripped me of my rank th' day I managed to get my scouts ambushed by those beasts."
A hare sitting near Polwyn overheard the sergeant's lamentations and offered him some words of comfort. "'twasn't your fault, Sergeant. Neither you or Lord Rocketh had any way o' knowin' that this horde was lurkin' south o' Salamandastron. If it hadn't been for you, these vermin would probably have caught us all by surprise. There'd be no time for a runner to get to Redwall and come back with aid. By th' time the warriors of that Abbey could get to Salamandastron, we'd be dead. Your gettin' ambushed was for the best, sah."
Polwyn looked at the hare and thought about what she had said. "You might be right," he said at last. "But there's still no guarantee that th' Redwallers'll come to help us. It all depends on Candice, an' the way that she deals with those Abbeybeasts. They've probably reached a decision already. But there's no way for us to know what they've decided, wot?"
The hare held the sergeant's gaze for a few moments, and then turned her head away to look back out at the vermin encampment. They had started campfires from the driftwood they could find on the shore or near it. They didn't dare venture too far east of the shore for fear of running into the Long Patrol, so they were limited to what they had gathered. If nothing else, the hares that Sergeant Polwyn had brought on his trek south would make it difficult for the vermin in the horde to keep warm.
That was some beast we saw today, thought Polwyn, turning his thoughts to the Stormrat that had made its appearance after the Long Patrol ambush. Polwyn had fought in the Stormrat War, but he had never seen a Stormrat that looked that fierce during the war. And he didn't remember the Stormrat that took part in the ambush that had killed many of his hares a few days ago being that large. Maybe there was something impressive about him today, he thought. And I didn't get a very good look at the Stormrat that ambushed us.
Once again, Polwyn changed the focus of his thoughts. This time, he considered how the Redwallers would be likely to respond to Candice's message. In the few times that he had visited the Abbey, he had met many beasts that seemed like they would be opposed to war if it ever occurred. According to a rumor among the Long Patrol, there had been groups of Redwallers that had protested sending out an army to fight in the Stormrat War, even though it was quite plainly necessary.
But then there were the beasts who saw the truth, plain and simple, no matter how hard it might be. Redwall's Champion, Gormin, had been one of those beasts. Even though he had never fought in a war before, he was able to adapt quickly and fight almost as efficiently as an experienced Long Patroller. He had never objected to the fight, even when his comrades were slain around him. He might not have liked the war, but he had understood the necessity.
Redwall's Skipper of otters was another beast that managed to impress Polwyn with his ability to see the truth and lead the beasts that followed him based on it. There had been no question when the Redwallers reached Salamandastron that Skipper and his otters were ready and willing to fight the Stormrats' horde. During the course of the war, Skipper had managed to make many difficult decisions, some resulting in a loss of life among the beasts who were under his command. But Skipper bore the weight of his decisions with heroic strength, and even though he felt guilt when beasts died because of orders he had given, he hadn't stepped down from his duty.
Those two beasts were sure to see the necessity of war. No matter how many Redwallers were vehemently opposed to war, they would not budge from their position. Sergeant Polwyn believed that they would set out on their own, if they had to, to assist Lord Rocketh in defending Salamandastron. The right path would be clear enough to a beast as perceptive as Gormin had proven himself to be. And Redwall's Skipper would certainly see that Salamandastron needed to be defended. Even if he came without many supporters, the Long Patrol could use his leadership in the battles that were certain to come.
But would they be able to convince other Redwallers to come? Even if those two beasts did come to Salamandastron, they would make little difference in the outcome of the battle. But if they could convince the rest of Redwall that sending an army of warriors to Salamandastron would turn the tide of battle against these vermin, Salamandastron and Mossflower Country just might have a chance after all.
What am I to the beasts who I will fight beside? Polwyn asked himself. He doubted that any of the Redwallers would recognize him unless they fought alongside him in the last war, and too few of the beasts from Redwall had done that for him to be recognized by them. To Lord Rocketh, he was a hare with more experience than the rest. He would be relying on Polwyn to direct the younger hares and prepare them for the battle that was to come. And to the hares who were under his command, he was a leader that they trusted with their lives. It seemed that every hare who he commanded took his orders to heart, and trusted him to know what was the best solution to the situation at paw. Will I make a difference at all? That question made him wonder about what his real purpose as a hare of the Long Patrol was, and his confidence was shaken by the fact that he didn't know the answer.
I wonder if that runner is alright. Polwyn turned his thoughts away from his uncomfortable doubts and to one of the beasts that was under his command. He had escaped the wrath of the vermin horde, and was on his way to inform Lord Rocketh what had happened when the hares and vermin had clashed. Polwyn suddenly realized that he hadn't told Merlin what Lord Rocketh would want to hear. He might be ambitious, but he wasn't experienced in situations like these. He could only hope that the runner said what Lord Rocketh needed to hear, or that the Badger Lord would interrogate him until he got the information he needed.
As he thought this, a sudden sensation of despair descended on Polwyn's shoulders. Will we win this war? Are Redwall's warriors on their way to help us, or are they going to sit at their Abbey until it's too late? Is anything I do in this war going to make a difference?
But even though he didn't know the answers to many of his questions, he knew that there would be a reliable beast leading the war against the Stormrats. Lord Rocketh might be inexperienced, but he had been chosen by fate to be Salamandastron's Badger Lord. If that didn't speak for a beast, nothing did. With the help of more experienced Long Patrollers, Lord Rocketh would be able to lead the beasts of Salamandastron almost as well as Lord Sunforge had in the seasons before his death. Lord Rocketh wouldn't be Salamandastron's Badger Lord otherwise.
The hare that had reassured him before caught Polwyn's attention again with a loud whisper. "Sah, look at that! Unless I'm missin' my guess, which I'm not, that's a bird movin' away from the vermin camp. I can't be sure from this distance, but I think that's an eagle."
Sergeant Polwyn followed the hare's gaze. By the faint light of the moon, the sergeant could see the figure of a large bird hobbling away from the shore, flapping one wing as if to help itself walk and keeping the other still at its side. The bird hopped atop a boulder, and stared up at the moon. Then, it spread its wings. Though the gesture obviously caused it pain, it leaped off the boulder and flapped both wings desperately. For a few moments, it looked as if the bird would be able to stay in the air, but the winged beast's wings failed and it fell to the ground.
"Poor beast," muttered the hare next to Polwyn as the bird got up on it's legs and hobbled back to the vermin camp. The bird had held itself high when it had walked out to the boulder, even though its hobbling walk had almost caused the sergeant to laugh. But now its head hung low, and its back drooped. "It must've been a proud flyer, once. A shame that its reduced to hobblin' along like this."
The other hare nodded, looking sympathetically after the proud beast. "Jus' thinkin' that we might have to fight that beast makes me feel... guilty. But an enemy's an enemy, wot?"
Polwyn nodded and turned his attention back to the rest of the camp. Aside from the sentries and a few beasts moving about, there didn't seem to be anybeast awake. But he could be wrong, since the moon didn't provide very much light and the fires were almost burned out. The only thing to do was to sit and watch, which Polwyn did for the rest of the night.