Disclaimer: The world and idea of Redwall is solely the property of Brian Jacques. My characters, story, and whatever the heck I made up to keep this story moving (XD) are mine. Use without permission... and you shall be a cursed being forever. Muhahaha....
Author's Notes: And... here's the actual beginning of the story. I personally don't like how I started this chapter off. I was glaring at the first sentence for hours, completely irritated about it... about to pummel it. I would have, too, had it been something that was pummel-able instead of... in a hard, hard computer screen.
But.. I didn't fix it, because if I had... this chapter would be even longer. And I didn't want an over-long first chapter. Sooo! You're stuck with a crappy beginning. I think it gets better, so keep reading and... ignore the first sentence.
Feel free to comment, flame, critique, or just plain read without reviewing (though that would be a nice present. XP)
If you find any major errors, please tell me.
A DARK REDWALL TALE
By: Katoni
Part One, Chapter One: Evening
The land of Mossflower and Salamandastron had been quiet and peaceful for a long time.
Too long, thought Strongpaw, badgerlord of Salamandastron. It's like the silence before a huge storm. The longer the silence, the greater the storm. He sighed, getting up from the stool in his room. Well, I shouldn't complain. Revel in the peace while it lasts! He stretched and left him room, heading toward the breakfast hall.
On the way, he ran into a tall, lanky white hare.
"Oof! Who-- Ah, Colonel Rosie! Already done with breakfast?" The badger lord congenially greeted one of his officers.
Strangely, the normally robust hare seemed distracted. "Brekkers? Completely forgotten 'bout it, wot." Suddenly, the hare looked up and blinked as if she just realized who she had run in to. "Ah! Lord Strongpaw!"
"Our scouts from th'south have just returned. Th'vermin of the south 'ppear to be a bit active...."
The badgerlord sighed. Spoken – thought—too soon, I guess. I should have expected this, actually, but this is so soon.... "How active, do you know?" The colonel shook her head, ears flapping comically. The badgerlord would have teased his officer about it had the news been less serious.
"Not too active, as of yet-- but lord," the hare frowned, "Y'do realize that the South Coast is, and always has been, vermin's land? Th'force they gather, if they plan t'attack... would be huge."
Strongpaw, though aware of that, decided it would be best to make light of the situation for now. No reason to make beasts panic about something that might never happen.
"We'll worry about that if it ever comes to that. Remember that the number of our troops have multiplied as well. The peace lasted so long, and there have been no war casualties in so long, that the number of Long Patrollers is at its peak right now. We shouldn't worry too much. Understood, Colonel?"
Colonel Rosie stood sharply to attention. "Aye, m'lord!"
"Good. Now go get some breakfast." The hare grinned, and trotted towards the mess hall, setting aside the worrisome news for the prospect of breakfast.
On the other paw, Strongpaw had completely lost his appetite. Vermin on the move, eh? I haven't visited the tiny hall within the Hall of Echoes for quite awhile... my fault for being so unprepared. While I remember that I have such a hall, I better visit it.
With that thought, the badger made his way up through many caves, flights of stairs, and through most of the Hall of Echoes before coming upon a wall with a crack that seemed to be part of the wall. Digging his claws into the crack, he braced himself and heaved, using brute strength and muscle to swing the wall outward. After a brief pause to shake out his tense muscles, Strongpaw entered the secret hall.
He padded quickly down the hall, ignoring carvings that were in his immediate vicinity. The carvings were from and for the badger days of old. He was aiming for the farther part of the hall where carvings of his own time would be on the wall. When he reached the carving that showed his coming to Salamandastron, he slowed down and started paying close attention to the carvings that followed it.
"Let's see...," he said softly to himself. "Here I am, coming to the fire mountain... there is a bit of a gap between that and the next carving, indicating the time passed since I've come. Now what is this? Damn, I wish these carvings weren't so small!" The badgerlord squinted and concentrated on the tiny carvings. "Small figures.. they don't quite look like mice, so I'd say a horde of rats... behind the rats are more vermin.... A horde gathering, is it? Seems like the scouts' reports were right; there is activity going on in the south. Now, the carving right next to it... This is obviously Salamandastron. So the horde marches on to the mountain... this is a little strange. Why is a hare leaving the mountain traveling toward the hoard?" The badger gazed at that particular carving for awhile, pondering over the puzzle.
"... I'm not sure. Maybe I want to negotiate? But... I don't like the idea of negotiating with vermin. Rrgh... how irritating. I'll get back to that later. Let's see...," Strongpaw left behind the confusing carving and moved onto the next set of figures. "...Here I am with my hares getting ready to fight them off. Understandable. And the war ends with the... What the HELL?!"
The badgerlord, having already forgotten of the strange carving, was not ready for what he saw next. Nothing would have ever prepared him for it, even if he had been expecting the worst...
... because the worst he would have expected would never have been the downfall of Salamandastron.
"NOOOOOOOOOOO!!! NEVER!! DO YOU HEAR ME?! THIS WILL NEVER HAPPEN!!!" Forgetting where he was, Lord Strongpaw screamed in agony. The noise reverberated through the tiny hall, enlarging the sound until even the huge badgerlord's ears couldn't stand the noise. He covered his ears with his paws, tears streaming down his face in shock and pain, but the intensity and pitch of the sound was unbearable. He collapsed, his head ringing, and darkness, sweet darkness, rose to greet him.
............
He dreamed.
He was floating above Salamandastron, looking down upon the mountain and the shores around it. And he saw.
Vermin hordes, of numbers he thought impossible, gathered at the foot of Salamandastron – his mountain. The horde took up the whole shore for... miles. There was no open space for almost as far as he could see. How is that possible? He despaired. How could they have gathered such a force.... It was a stupid question, and he knew it. He should have guessed... he had been too naïve, too foolish, to not expect such a gathering after years – decades – of peace.
Looking at such a horde, the badger lord knew with a sinking heart that there was no way he could ever defeat it. Though his hares numbered far into the hundreds, the vermin horde numbered far into the thousands....
The dream continued. Strongpaw saw himself, leading his hares, his brave, loyal companions, into war. It was hopeless from the beginning, but they fought—fought and died. The vermin left none alive; all hares, from the oldest, retired fighters to the youngest babes, were killed. He saw himself die, taking many with him, but not enough—no, not even close to enough.
He saw the fire mountain overrun, the vermin gleefully taking over the mountain. There were still so many alive after the war was over that not all could fit in the mountain.
He saw the vermin hordes separate into groups to conquer other parts of the land; he saw, with a sinking heart, that a large hoard was sent especially toward Mossflower, toward the direction of Redwall Abbey, and knew that the vermin meant to take over the woods and everything in it as well.
"NO!!" The badgerlord heard himself scream and felt himself thrashing on his bed. "Give me something better! Let me at least save Redwall, PLEASE!" He felt soothing paws on his forehead and heard worried, whispered voiced. He felt the nightmares pulling him in again.
And he saw.
He was again above his mountain, but there was no vermin hoard. Not yet.
Most of his hares were leaving the mountain, then breaking off and heading in different directions. The largest group of hares, numbering into the hundreds, left in the direction of Mossflower and Redwall.
Soon after that, he saw the vermin hoard marching toward Salamandastron, just as strong in number as in his previous nightmare. But this time, he was with less hares.
He saw the war all over again. All his loyal hares died, fighting to the last. He died, the last to fight, the last to defend, a witness for the death of all his hares. But he died fighting, a proud badgerlord still.
He saw the vermin begin to overrun his fire mountain, and couldn't bear to see it anymore. As if sensing this, the nightmare faded and receded, then disappeared completely, granting him a dreamless sleep... at least for awhile.
Right before he dropped off into that dreamless sleep, however, he dimly saw the great badgerlords of before standing in front of him. He kneeled, ashamed to show his face, knowing that he would be the badgerlord to fail to protect his home, his mountain.
A tiny mouse appeared in front of him then, bidding him to rise. The mouse had a kind, calm look about him as well as an aura that made Strongpaw feel like a dibbun in front of him despite his actual towering form. The mouse smiled gently for him, and behind him, the great badgerlords of before did the same. The mouse spoke.
"The dreams you have seen will come to pass. It was destined that Salamandastron would fall... though it is not through any fault of yours."
Strongpaw protested weakly, still ashamed, still unable to look at the noble mouse and badgerlords in the face. The mouse seemed to understand, and smiled sadly, soothingly.
"However, you will be the one to decide the fate of the rest of the world and the eventual future of your mountain." Strongpaw wanted to ask the mouse what he meant, but no words would come out of his mouth. Understanding the unspoken question, the mouse went on.
"If you only despair and do nothing, the future of not only Salamandastron but also Mossflower and Redwall will be nothing but dark. Vermin will overrun the land and, after token resistance, Salamandastron and Mossflower will be no more." Strongpaw closed his eyes as if to ward off the blow of such horrible news.
"However, if you send out your hares before the vermin arrive, some to warn the northern lands, among others, and the rest to Mossflower and Redwall to protect it, then the future will be more promising. Salamandastron will still fall, but somewhere in the future, it will be won back by your hares... and peace will reign again."
Strongpaw listened, but he could not stop despairing. His mountain... his home... fallen. He could not believe it. And he could not stop feeling ashamed.
The mouse placed a gentle paw on his head.
"Lord Strongpaw, do not despair. I promise--," the mouse paused. "We promise that Salamandastron will be won over again. This had to happen to Salamandastron... you could not understand it now, but it must happen. Misfortune had it that the mountain fell during your reign, but it is by no fault of yours. Do not blame yourself, and instead use your hares to help Mossflower, Redwall, and Salamandastron have a future in the roads far ahead."
Strongpaw couldn't look up, not yet, but he nodded, understanding through his despair the importance of the message just given to him. The mouse and badgerlords smiled, and the badgerlords each blessed him, one by one, before disappearing back into the depths of the black forest. Soon, it was only the mouse that was left.
"Strongpaw. There are to be hard times before you, the hardest times that any of the badgerlords had to see." The mouse's voice was sad, as if he wished he could take the big burden off the despairing badger's shoulders. "But for now, rest. Rest and be at peace before you have to go through ordeals that none of us can hardly imagine. You will do what you know you must do; you are strong. We will meet again soon."
Strongpaw saw the mouse disappear, then felt himself fall, fall into a bliss and peace that rested him to an unexplainable degree.
............
"It looks like he's waking up, wot?" Strongpaw heard Colonel Rosie saying softly. "Everyone leave the room; 'twould be best for th'lord to have some breathin' space 'stead of suffocatin' with you lot 'round. Shoo!" The badgerlord smiled inwardly as his hares left, voicing their complaints.
When the room was finally empty of all hares except Rosie, the hare sighed gustily.
"Ok, m'lord, I believe it's safe to wake up now, wot?" Strongpaw smiled and opened his eyes, sitting up carefully, expecting a headache. When he surprisingly realized he wouldn't have a headache, he looked sat up completely and looked directly at Rosie. He immediately asked, "Why am I in the infirmary?"
Rosie frowned. "There was a great shout echoing around the mountains, m'lord. Y'were shouting somethin'... and we knew you had to be in the Hall of Echoes; no other room or hall could make your voice ring around th'mountain. We found you knocked out cold on the floor, so with some effort, we brought you to the infirmary." She looked up, worriedly. "What happened, lord? Your sleep was so restless, you shouted and thrashed th'whole bloomin' time, wot?"
Strongpaw flinched and raised his paw to his head and everything rushed back to him. The carvings, the dreams, the mouse and badgerlords.... He got his headache after all. After a moment's silence, he looked back at his Colonel.
"I won't say anything. Not just yet. But call the officers together to the council room. We have something serious to discuss."