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SAVING ROSE

Chapter Four

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Back in the North Hills, Rose stirred as her mind's subconscious urgently tried to tell her that something was wrong. But the anesthetic had a strong grip on her conscious, and she could not wake. All Rose could do was twist her face into a frown as she dreamt a nightmare.


Martin leaped from walltop, seeing Badrang slashing his way through the beasts blocking his escape via the tunnel the moles had dug. Driven even deeper into his madness, Martin did not even feel his landing, which should have rightfully knocked him out. He followed Badrang into the tunnel, thankfully blocked by on of Gulba's massive hedgehogs. Furious, Martin dragged the tyrant out, and did not even flinch as his father's sword drew blood from his chest.

The two continued to fight, Martin as a wild savage and Badrang as a panicked coward. Both had acquired many wounds, the stoat most of all. At last Martin found an opportunity to strike. He gripped both of Badrang's paws in his own, his own sword forgotten, and forced it back into the tyrant's chest.

His lifelong mission was accomplished. Once the bloodwrath deserted him, the past sleepless nights and lack of nutrition took its toll on the warrior, but he could not rest. He sighed. "For you, Father, and for you, Rose."

Looking around, he spotted Josephine hiding by the tunnel. Martin nodded to her as he walked her way. She looked at Badrang, then at Martin. Suddenly Josephine flung her arms around her hero and bade him the best of luck, promising him that all would deeply miss the warrior that had changed everybeast's life. Martin smiled fondly at the helpful mousemaid, and snuck out of the warzone, bidding all the creatures that had participated in the downfall of Marshank a sorrowful, silent farewell.


Brome stirred. He found himself with a slight headache from what he suspected was chloroform. Yet his musings were wiped from his mind as he opened his eyes and saw…

Hills. He knew them well, and he also knew that it wasn't where he fell asleep. He looked about and saw his sister, Pallum, and Grumm also getting up. They took it in silently with wide eyes.

"Whurr be oi, yurr?" Grumm mumbled dazedly.

"We're in the North Hills!" Brome exclaimed, scowling.

Rose groaned. "Oh, my head. Why are we here? Have… oh! The battle! It's past dawn!"

Pallum was shocked. "What's the meaning of this?" He cried, and all four pondered this question.

"We'd better get back to camp," Brome said hurriedly, and started running towards said camp.

There was nobeast there when they arrived, though as much was expected. There was activity at the tyrant's fortress, and the four rushed over. Starwort, Rowanoak, and many more creatures greeted them as they approached.

"Where were you chaps this whole time, wot? Missed all the top-notch action!" Ballaw greeted them.

Brome shook his head. "You wouldn't believe us if we told you-"

His sister interrupted him. "Where's Martin?" Pallum and Grumm also looked eager to know.

The wise badger frowned. "You know, I saw him a while ago by the slave compound. It's been quite a long time since then though," she frowned.

"Well, let's get at it then, mates!" Starwort shouted as he turned to run in the direction Rowanoak had mentioned. The others followed closely behind him.

...And it was a strange sight that met their eyes. The young mousemaid Josephine, supposedly still safe at Noonvale, was weeping as she shoveled dirt unto a mound that looked fearfully like a grave.

Rose ran up to her. "Jose! What are you doing here? And what are you doing?"

The others caught up in time to hear her sniff, "Burying him."

Their stomachs dropped, and a strange sense of foreboding hung over them as Grumm choked, "Burryin' who, miz?"

Josephine looked at the dirt on her shovel miserably, then said in a ragged voice;

"Martin."

The next few minutes were a blur to all. In her shock, Rowanoak randomly thought, But we don't have shovels here.

Rose felt like she was being strangled. Her voice, usually clear and beautiful, sounded torn and used. "He shouldn't be buried there," she said out of nowhere. Her brain was still trying to register the fact that her warrior was gone.

Brome began to weep. Slowly, all creatures present felt lumps rising in their throats, and sobs crept out unbidden. One by one, the word got through the entire fortress, and every singly beast cried for the warrior, their leader.


He was already far off now. Past the marsh, past the forest, past the Broadstream, he walked on, his thoughts trying to command his disobeying paws to turn around. Shouldering his pack, his tears flowed down his cheeks, and the only thing that kept them silent and unnoticed was his commitment to the happiness of the flower of his life.

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THE END…?

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Blech. Go read the sequel now - go go go! )