Hey guys! Thanks for all your reviews! I'm sorry if chapters seem short yet they take a few days to be posted. I've got a Health project due Wednesday I have to work on and I was bombed with English homework. Also, I went to a school dance last night and now my neck kills from headbanging so much. Anyway, enough with my rambling. Here's the next chapter, please R&R!
Disclaimer: >> I don't own Redwall, unfortunately.
January 25, 2005
Chapter 10
Donovan rubbed the inside corners of his eyes. He hadn't slept well the night before. The strong squirrel always had a hard time sleeping while others were awake; something about their presence made him jumpy, for it always felt like they were watching him. Donovan guessed Martin hadn't batted an eyelid the entire night. The sun had gone down, and the mouse still lay on his back in the bed, staring at the ceiling. Azalea pretended to sleep in the chair, although she was really up into the small hours, making sure Martin was okay. And, of course, the pair's antics allowed Donovan only a few hours of peaceful slumber. The dipper, who had decided to stay for a short while, was probably the only one who had a decent night.
The sun blinded the squirrel momentarily. He heard the sounds of cupboards opening and closing, the clatter of scallop shells being thrust into haversacks, and Azalea's constant mumbling. "Where are you heading to so early in the bloody morning?"
The chipmunk didn't cease her frantic actions. "We're all heading out, yup yup." She closed one sack and opened another.
"Oh joy, an adventure at two hours past dawn," he replied sarcastically. He stood up an put on his belt, thrusting his newly polished dagger into a sash at his side.
"Will you wake Martin for me, eh? We really need to get a move on, yes we do."
The squirrel obliged, for once, and shook the still form in the bed. "Up and at 'em, laddie, we've got a busy day ahead of us." A look of puzzle came across his face. "By the by, Azalea, where are we going?"
"We're going wherever that riddle tells us, yes we are." She finished tying the cord on the last haversack and smiled at Martin.
"But the riddle says that I'm supposed to find this place by myself," replied the mouse, speaking for the first time since he received the note from Aryah. "And, if I'm not mistaken, I'm supposed to do exactly as it says."
"Ah, but that's where you're wrong," Donovan said, shouldering a sack full of food and drink. "The only part it says you must see alone is the place with the bushes of blood or whatnot. It never says we can't tag along until then."
The Warriormouse smiled. "Well, I guess having some friends along might be useful. You never know if those vermin we encountered a few days ago might pop up again."
Azalea laughed. "I think we sent those fellahs packin', yes we did!" She handed a sack and canteen to Martin. "Well, are we all ready?"
"Not yet," the mouse replied. He reached over for the riddle and put it in his pocket. Then he grabbed a strip of bark from the drawer in the nightstand and the piece of charcoal. He wrote a few sentences, and then tied it to the leg of the dipper. "Bring this to Aryah. Send everyone at Noonvale my regards." The little dipper gave Martin a crooked smile, saluted, and flew off into the morning sun.
For the first time in a season, Martin felt very close to being happy. Happy was a feeling he very much underestimated before that certain day, when he and his two newfound friends left a hidden dwelling in a very tall tree in the middle of the forest for a grand adventure. The warrior always loved an adventure, especially if it was to his aid. Now Martin walked blissfully along, letting the sun bathe his face in its soft, liquid-like glow. He tried to confine his thoughts to how great the day was, but he kept drifting. What was this… thing that was supposed to help him deal with his unpredictable Bloodwrath? Was it a "magic" potion? A special herb that could heal the mind? And what were "bloody bushes"? Martin silently prayed his journey would not result in his friends' bloodshed.
Azalea the chipmunk walked along with her pals, thoughts swimming through her head. She felt as though her brain was an ocean and everybody around decided it was a nice day to go for a paddle. Everything came back to that letter sent by that someone named Aryah. Obviously, she was the mother of Rose and lived at Noonvale. But what could possibly give her the notion that Martin would like to return to that place, and face his one true love's friends and family? How could she think he would be able to bear seeing them again with the false guilt of Rose's death buried in his heart? Azalea clung to the cure in her ocean of a mind.
Donovan kept his eyes to the ground, watching his footpaws tap the earth. He hoped he wouldn't bump into anything. He tried to keep his mind clear, but every time it emptied, it would quickly fill up again with images of Blauveer. The squirrel clenched his dagger hilt, willing the annoying lump in his throat to go away. He pulled the parchment with the riddle on it out of his trouser pocket and turned it over. "Well, we've left Azalea's house," he finally said, "and this is the correct way to the pond?"
"That it is, yup yup," Azalea replied. "I know the way to that liddle pond like the back of me own paw!"
Martin chuckled. "You know, I've never really understood that saying. I don't spend that much time staring at the back of my paw."
"I figure 'knowing the way like I know my own name' would be more appropriate, do you think, Azalea?" Donovan said.
"Ya know, if we weren't already at the stinkin' pond, I'd sock the two of ya."
They stopped in front of the water, watching the breeze create tiny ripples across the surface. Martin strode over to it and looked at his reflection. Move eastward from your reflection for four rises and sets of the sun. Scorching eyes stared back at him, a deep and distinctive red. He could make out the face of a mighty badger in the clear liquid. He whipped his head around, expecting to see the massive creature standing behind him, but nobeast was there.
"You all right, Martin?" Azalea asked her surprised friend.
"Yeah, I'm fine. I just thought I saw something in the water, that's all." He looked up at the sun and judged its position. He pointed northeast. "That's the direction we should be traveling in, friends. Four days worth, am I right?"
"Correct," Donovan replied. "Now are we going to sit around here all day staring at the bloody water, or get a move on?"
The three friends set out in the early morning light, traveling in an eastern direction, completely unaware of the set of eyes watching them from the forest.
The gang had set a brisk pace and had covered quite a bit of ground by mid morning. It was four hours past dawn when Azalea un-shouldered his haversack. "This looks like a good spot to sit and have a bite of brunch, yup yup."
"We can't have brunch if we haven't even had breakfast yet, you dimwit." Donovan corrected.
"Dimwit yourself, smarty-pants. Me stomach doesn't care what meal 'tis, as long as it's getting fed."
Martin couldn't help but laugh at the antics of his two friends. "Do you always talk to each other like this?"
"When you've been friends with a complete fruitcake like Azalea, laddie, you'd be talking the same way, I assure you." Donovan chuckled.
"We mean each other no real harm, no we don't. And it can be quite fun, once you get used to it." The chipmunk started laying out oatcakes and a canteen of cold mint tea.
"When I was looking through your cupboards, all I saw was nuts, berries and water," Martin said, noticing the variety of foods in Azalea's haversack. "Where did you get all those?"
"What, ya think I'd leave all me goods laying 'bout for beasts to snatch, eh? I do use secret squirrel doors to hide cupboard doors, too, ya know."
The trio sat munching on the oatcakes Azalea provided and letting the sunlight of the young day fall upon them. It was very peaceful and quiet. Suddenly, a muffled cackle sounded from the foliage about them.
Instinctively, Martin drew his sword and Donovan drew his dagger. "Who's there?" the mouse called boldly. "Show yourself!"
Another cackle was heard, this time a little louder. "Heeheeha! Irritar clever! Mousey not like!"
Azalea's face showed annoyance. "That's the voice of a tree rat, yes it is. Ignorant and wild liddle things, although they usually stay in the south. It's no use to try and reason with 'em, they've got fewer brains than a guppy on his deathbed, yes they do. We're better off just knockin' him senseless."
Donovan flipped his dagger over in his paw so he was holding the blade. "My hilt should do the trick. Azalea, stay here and guard the food and drink. We'll be back in a tick."
"Are you implying that females are the weaker gender? I'm the one who told you about tree rats for cryin' out loud!" Azalea replied, always in the mood for an argument.
"No," Donovan said jokingly, "I'm implying that your face might scare the idiot off before we can knock him out. Lead the way Martin."
"Hahahee! Irritar want eat! Eat mousey!"
Martin laughed awkwardly. "I hope I don't look too appetizing."
"You look like no bloody summer salad to me, laddie. Come on now," the squirrel pushed his way through the undergrowth. "We must be getting closer."
"Irritar see mousey! Irritar kill mousey, heehee!" The recognizable voice of Irritar the tree rat could be heard above them. He was sitting in the boughs of a giant oak tree. His face was painted with faded juices of berries and was much smaller than normal rats. His teeth were sharpened and yellow, and his eyes were larger from adaptation. A wicked smile played across his lips as he began chucking acorns down at the pair below him.
Martin held his arms over his head to keep the bothersome objects from hitting him in the face. "Would you like the honor of climbing up the tree and pounding that wretched creature?"
"I'd love to," Donovan replied. He clenched his blade in his teeth and scaled the trunk of the tree with the speed and agility capable only capable of a squirrel warrior. He hopped onto the limb Irritar was standing on and gave the rat a formidable punch in the jaw that sent him toppling over the edge. Alarmingly, the tree rat landed on the ground on all fours. With an evil shine in his eyes, he launched himself at Martin. But the mouse was used to quick creatures, and he was one himself. He did a fast side step and thrust his sword through the rat's unprotected chest.
"You don't mess around, do you laddie?" Donovan said as he landed nimbly beside Martin.
"Sorry," the mouse replied, pulling his sword from the limp creature's body, "I know Azalea said to just knock him out, but I didn't have time to think about it. This guy was pretty quick."
"Aye, that he was," the squirrel said smiling at Martin, "but not as quick as you."