Another beautiful day, eh?
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Chapter 2: A Rider's Skill
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The horse and rider galloped through the forest. Half a dozen wargs followed in pursuit of the reddish brown horse with white mane and tail. The rider was a full grown otter. His gray cloak swirled beneath his shield and sword strapped across his back and a quiver of arrows dangled from his red, blue and yellow sword belt that ran across his chest at an angle. In his paw there was a longbow, and on the bowstring, an arrow was notched. In Arathorn's features, determination was stamped everywhere. He dropped his hold on the horse's mane and squeezed with his knees to hold himself on. With his free paw, he pulled a slit leaf from under his leather gantlets. He blew on is making a loud, long, whistle noise. A couple seconds later all he heard was the humming of wings beating the air. Then a voice spoke in his ear.
"Yez, Arathorn?" A Peregrine Falcon flew along with the horse as he waited for instructions.
"Nightwing, will ya' please distract all those wargs while Zanzibar and I try to escape?" Arathorn knew he was asking a lot of such a bird, but he tried it anyway.
"I vill do my bezt." The loyal falcon flew in a u-turn and sped straight at the wargs. Dashing in and out between them he distracted them and caused them to stop.
Zanzibar galloped for another five minutes before Arathorn spotted a place to hide. Arathorn gave directions to Zanzibar both by words and by pressing left leg harder than his right leg was holding on. "Zanzibar, to the right there is a cave, lets head in there."
"Your will is obeyed," Zanzibar turned toward the small inlet, "I will eat a bit before I join you in there, all provided you allow me."
Before Zanzibar stopped, Arathorn was already jumping from his back. "Bless yer 'eart matey! Of course ya' can Zanzibar! I've told ya' many a times not to ask but ya' always do."
Shortly after, Nightwing arrived with word of his battle. "I have done az you vizhed, da vargz are on a different path. Rezt in zafety, I vill take da firzt vatch. Zanzibar can have last. He iz da mozt tired from all da running."
"I agree matey, I'll take second then, then I'll wake up ol' Zibar. What do ya say Zibar?" Arathorn began to lay out his belongings; he spread his gray cloak on the hard rock floor of the cave.
"If you say so Arathorn, I will be last, only because I need it." Regretfully he began to chomp mouthfuls or grass.
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In Arathorn's dream, he saw a mouse floating through the misty halls of time. All along the walls there were moving pictures, showing lifetimes of every beast Arathorn followed the mouse clad in shinning armor and holding a beautiful sword. As they traveled farther back in time, the mouse suddenly turned into a side corridor and Arathorn noticed that the events in this hallway were about a great red stone castle, as Arathorn thought it was. The mouse in armor stopped in front of a picture frame showing another mouse with the exactly same sword as this mouse's, watching the road to the south standing over the main gate to the castle. The warrior mouse standing next to Arathorn suddenly spoke. He pointed to himself and said, "Martin." Then he jumped in the picture, so did Arathorn. The mouse in the picture suddenly looked up at Martin and said, "When will this thing come, Martin?" Martin made no response but only pointed at Arathorn who had come to stand by him. The other mouse looked at Arathorn intently for a moment as if seeing him for the first time.
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Then he woke up. Warm horsehide was pressing against his back; Zanzibar had come into the cave and, Nightwing was calling him. It was time for his watch.
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Triebane woke suddenly. I must have been sleeping! He thought to himself. In the back ground he heard the laughter of other beast at the feast. He turned around and looked at the floor. There was the nice tray of food Marion had left for him. The meal consisted of oatmeal scones, apple and carrot chews, and a cup of cold blackberry cordial. After eating, he again turned back to the road. All he could think about was the dream he had. Martin the Warrior speaking to him, but what did he say? That otter's fierce face looking down at him from behind the warriormouse. With the sword hilt and guard protruding over one shoulder, the otter looked like a fearless warrior. He hadn't seen a shield but he knew there was one.
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A light breeze stirred Arathorn's cloak. He polished his shield and cleaned his sword while thinking of how he had met his friends. He remembered the night, so far ago, when he was smaller, curled up in the log. He had woken up to a soft muzzle smelling him over. Opening one eye, he had his first glance of Zanzibar, a colt then. Zanzibar had been an outcast of the tribe of Speed Warriors because he had broken their law that said "no horse must ever carry a rider unless the rider is from the Ranger Clan". Zanzibar had seen a mouse hurt, and taken pity on it. He brought it back to their Warriors in hopes of it being cured. Instead, they killed the "unworthy" little beast and outcast Zanzibar. He had been wandering only two days before he found Nightwing. Then they found him.
Then he thought of Nightwing. The most loyal bird anybody could hope for, taking care of him and Zanzibar, never asking for anything in return. He showed Arathorn how to make a whistle out of a leaf, and how to blow it. The falcon always came on its shrill note.
Zanzibar stirred in his sleep, his legs thrashed out, then in. He awoke with wide eyes. "They are near Master!"
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Triebane watched the sun go down. He knew what he would teach of the mousemaid Marion, the pretty little thing. It was a pity she had to be taught the hard way. She was a stubborn creature when she had a mind too.
His thoughts were disturbed as a wild scream rang through the night, more howls and screeches followed. Many creatures at the feast panicked, never in their lives had they heard such horrifying sounds. The badgermum was the first to react, she bellowed to everyone to get inside. They ran as if perused by demons. Then she ran up the stairs to Triebane but he was already talking, as if in a trance.
"From dawn to dusk, wait for me,
You will see,
At suns last light,
No need to fight,
Turn to the south,
Arrows passing through their mouths!
Standing on the threshold,
Beware the legends of old,
The Evil One will not yield,
Unless you have the Ranger's Shield!
Right after he had muttered these words, Triebane remembered every detail of the dream. The strange otter, Martin's words, the shield, and the wolf!
By this time, Skipper, Log a Log, the Abbot and some other curious Redwallers had joined them on the battlements. Dashing across the wall top, the others in his right behind him, Triebane gazed and stared in disbelief at the scene before his very eyes. A peregrine falcon flew low before a galloping horse, its rider, bent low. He instantly recognized the rider; the otter from his dream! Behind them, three massive brownish ugly monsters with gapping mouths and dagger teeth followed closer than an arrow's length. The beasts made a ghastly sight; tongues were hanging out, brownish fur, matted and dirty, the claws on their scared paws extended to full length. The sight was one never before seen in Mossflower. No Redwaller could remember such a thing.
Skipper was about to ask one of his otters that had joined them to get some longbows, but Triebane stopped him with these words. "At suns last light, no need to fight, turn to the south, the arrows passed through their mouths." As he said this, the badgermum pointed and gasped, "Oh look!"
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Arathorn, for it was he, had no time to look at his surroundings. He knew the wargs would not be fool enough to deal with Nightwing again. So he gripped Zanzibar with his knees again and let go of the horse's mane. That had been what made Cythel gasp. There was already an arrow notched to his bowstring, so he simply turned his upper body around, took aim and fired. The arrow flew straight and true, passing through a warg's tongue, mouth, and neck. It died on the spot. It was the leading warg of the three, and when it fell, the others tripped over it, squealing and nipping. Zanzibar circled under Arathorn's directions, and headed in to circle around the fallen wargs. Nightwing flew in and circled the wargs, making sure they never got up from their positions. They never did get up; two more arrows had found their marks. Dark black blood began to stain the ground where they lay.
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The Redwallers on the wall top that had witnessed this scene were dumbstruck. Not only had they seen an otter's amazing skill, they had seen three more once in a life time things: wargs, a horse, and a peregrine falcon.
The Redwallers who had witnessed the scene were still shocked. They murmured and talked in quiet tones about the monsters. Each one trying to figure out what the dead creatures were.
Cythel was again the first to regain composure, still looking at the horse and rider now standing still, she spoke to the Abbot. "Shall we let them in Father? They look harmless enough. But I'm not sure."
Triebane answered instead of the Abbot, "Of course let them in! In my dream, Martin said we need them for a coming attack. I'll tell you later. They need food and drink right away. Bring them in now, I'm coming to see that the new arrivals…"
Before he could finish speaking, the huge falcon had landed on the battlements next to them. Seeing Triebane with his dark eyes, he addressed him. "My mazter zaid you vould be da one, da one vid the sword of a mouze varrior. Ve azk no zervice, juzt zomeplace to rezt and eat for tonight. No doubt, you've zeen the vhat 'az taken place out dere tonight, you vill 'ave pity for dree travelerz in need of food and zelter from da evilz of da vorld."
"Yes you are always welcome to our Abbey, have you not heard of Redwall?" At a puzzled look from the great bird, Triebane nodded to the Abbot and continued. "Redwall Abbey, the place you are standing in right now, is always welcome to good beast, like yourself and your friends. We are quite honored by your presence for no Redwaller in history has seen a falcon as yourself before. The only time any Redwaller has seen a horse before was countless ages ago when a horse was spotted pulling a load of hay with vermin rats in it. Please, make yourself at home for as long as you please. This is Abbot Sathodus, Skipper, Log a Log, and Abby Recorder Jacalem."
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Down in the meadow south of the Abbey, Arathorn and Zanzibar stood taking in their first look at Redwall. The red stone building stood out like a shell in a bucket of sand. On the wall top, Arathorn could see Nightwing talking with the other animals on top, though he could no hear what they said. Seeing the Abbey made him recall his dream. On the wall top, he could see the mouse in his dream; he had sent Nightwing to reason with him. Somehow, he knew the mouse would accept him and his friends in. He saw Nightwing returning, and greeted him.
"'ow did it go, matey?"
"It vent vell, day zay ve are velcome to ztay az long az ve vant vith no charge. Da mouze you zpoke of is vating for you at da gate."-he pointed at the path-"He zez he vantz to zpeak vid you alone."
"Very well, c'mon Zanzibar and Nightwing, we'll go tagether."
So with Arathorn riding, Nightwing perched on Arathorn's shoulder, and Zanzibar trotting, they entered Redwall.
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"What is your name, my son?" The Abbot questioned the three arrivals as they ate around a table left outside. With him were Cythel, Jacalem, and Triebane. Jacalem dictated every word as fast as her old limbs could permit.
Between mouthfuls, Arathorn answered all the questions presented to him and his friends.
"I am Arathorn, he is Zanzibar and the falcon is Nightwing. By the way, delicious food here, what do you call it?"
"That would be a carrot and mushroom flan. Where are you from?"
"We are from Southsward, the same place the Evil One comes from."
"The Evil One did you say?" Triebane jumped up from his place at the table. "I remember my dream. You and Martin the Warrior were there and he said, 'Beware the legends of old, the Evil One will not yield, unless you have the Ranger's Shield!'" He stood looking at Arathorn, "You were standing next to Martin, then he pointed at you after I asked him what would be coming."
"Hold up young rip! I can't write as fast as ya talk, ma deary!" Jacalem wrote away in the silence that followed, knowing every eye wa on her. So she took the chance and took a swig of pennycould cordial from her cup.
She rubbed her paws together and said, "Well? What are you buffoons looking at? I haven't got all night!"
"Ahem, right then. As you were saying?" Sathodus motioned for Arathorn to continue.
"I was? Oh, ya er, about the Evil One, or Preytheive. Anyway…" He continued on into the night.
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What's the Evil One? Keep reading to find out! And those who wish to have me read their stories, please write the name of it!