Chapter 6
Lord Trendon Broadstripe was, in McKaid's eyes, a sight to behold. Aside from the customary Mother Badger at Redwall McKaid had never seen another of their kind before and to see a full grown male was to see a barely restrained steer rearing in front of you. Though Lord Broadstripe seemed not on the verge of losing his temper, the mouse was given a sense that he would become a full-fledged killing machine in a trice. Though soft, he was still stern and compared to his huge, war hardened exterior Adrin's ideals of peace among woodlanders and vermin, with herself as the representative, seemed to pale.
No matter, the white furred mouse stood firmly on her ground. And to the relief of her friend, she had no doubts shadowing her face as she had before he lectured her. Despite that he was still feeling humbled, McKaid drew himself up and stood beside her, to provide further support for her cause to stand on.
"Thank you, sir, for sending your patrol up to escort us the rest of the way to Salamandastron. I don't know if we'd been able to fend off the Seagulls ourselves," Adrin replied courteously with a curtsy, though she never averted her eyes.
Lord Broadstripe seemed not to notice her refusal to bow her head in respect, and continued on. "I doubt you could've, too, despite what a fine warrior your companion is. Seagulls always attack in numbers, but their size is usually enough to take down whatever prey they seek. He has an outstanding aptitude," the badger said, and he turned his eyes to meet those of McKaid's.
In all those stories McKaid had sat through that involved the great badger lord or lady of Salamandastron, never had he seen a gaze so completely without emotion. He always recalled some Lords looking on others with a regal, if kind sternness. Or even outright gentleness with no hostility. He saw nothing in Lord Broadstripe's eyes—except perhaps a slight flicker of disgust, as though he was disappointed the Redwallers did not send a more formidable crew in replacement of this hopeful pair. Now, McKaid knew why Colonel Crenshaw had responded so disdainfully to Adrin.
"Thank you, sir, I'm honored you believe so," McKaid replied, bowing at his waist though he, too, would not break off his gaze for a mere moment.
Again, the badger took no heed of these motions, but just sat down at the head of a long dining table in the Great Hall of the mountain. Though McKaid hadn't really been given the time to truly gaze in awe at the structure before him, he knew from a brief glance that it was comparable to Redwall in fortitude and eminence. And foreboding. An air of doom seemed to hang over the mountain like the thick fog he and Adrin had seen just the morning before.
As they came closer to it McKaid felt like he was walking through a graveyard, though the hard rock and sands were completely devoid of bodies or gravestones. Death hung heavy on the air at Salamandastron's feet and, instead of feeling the scalding burning of the sun, McKaid had felt a chill sink into his very bones with every breath he took of that air. Just the thought of breathing in the dead sent his stomach roiling within him.
The knowledge that countless armies had run up against the wall and broken like the tide upon the immovable rocks was reinforced as Adrin, McKaid, and the trio of hares they were with stepped into the halls. The colorless stone all at once seemed to suck up optimism and radiate a furious energy that drove the hares within the great fort. Though the sun was beginning to fall activities were being kicked into high gear from the eminent approach of the horde approaching from the South. Orders were flying, Long Patrollers were patrolling, and a general stern and professional attitude was being carried everywhere. Even to the kitchens.
It struck McKaid that the hares were in a constant battle attitude, only put on reserve when there seemed no more enemies to slay. Despite the furious energy he could feel from the hares going about their duties was an undertone of excitement. They were eager to possibly meet their deaths! Or, more likely, to hand out death to those vermin. This notion of always being prepared for battle made McKaid feel more ill than he was after walking through what felt like a stagnant tomb, despite how open the scrubland was. Glancing at Adrin, he wondered if she had picked up on these feelings on the way to the mountain.
His best friend did not allow any of this onto her face as she alertly watched the badger in front of her. When it spoke, McKaid immediately returned his attention to it. "Colonel Crenshaw tells me you hail from Redwall. We sent an envoy to Redwall in hopes that they might send reinforcements to keep their land free of vermin, though I know they're under no obligation to. However, the Colonel tells me you're here for a different reason other than give aid."
"Indeed I am," Adrin replied neutrally, though she smiled gently, if a little eagerly, for a more positive reaction from the badger. To push a cause such as a truce between hares and vermin, McKaid knew, was an act of gentle prodding over forcefulness. He also knew he wouldn't have been able to pull it off. "And I ensure you that it will be something you might be hesitant to, but I implore you to examine my reasons behind this rather than just turning me away."
Lord Broadstripe peered curiously at her, sniffing as though he could determine her cause through her scent; he said as gently as he could, "If my intuition is correct then I would have to guess this resides heavily on the war I'm about to fight here on my sands. I will try to give this my utmost attention; however, I have a battle to fight, so I will be preoccupied."
"Oh but, sir, you might not have to fight that war if you agree with what I have in mind," Adrin replied calmly. McKaid could hint a slight undertone of forcefulness, and her blue eyes though staring somewhat defiantly, pleaded for him to listen.
"Oh? I hope you aren't suggesting that I abandon my position as Lord of Salamandastron. To abandon Salamandastron is also to abandon my post as Lord of the Long Patrol as well. I could never do that," the badger said, clicking his claws against the cold rock of the table imperiously.
"No, my Lord, but I was hoping you might make a truce with the so called "vermin" outside your mountain right now," Adrin said steadfastly. The shocked gasps from around her and the way the badger stiffened at the statement could not avert her eyes either as she continued to stare politely at him.
The Dining Hall, having been filled with several Long Patrollers trying to concentrate on feasting—but also eavesdropping—fell so silent the clatter of the sparring could be heard. McKaid tensed himself, ready to stand up and give his own supporting speech if necessary, but from the way Adrin shook her head slightly he knew she wanted him to keep quiet. Not only was it her battle, but the usual blunt response McKaid usually retorted with would only have a hostile affect. He was only to step in as a last ditch attempt, or so he had decided.
For several minutes the silence reigned before the badger lord seemed able to collect himself. "That is an…Interesting proposition, Adrin. I gave you my word I would listen to your reasons behind this, so present them," Lord Broadstripe struggled to say amiably, though both Redwallers could tell he was bristling.
Adrin hesitated a moment only to collect herself before saying, "I don't suppose you've heard of the muskrat that roved Mossflower with a band of thieves and murderers, Lord?"
Lord Broadstripe narrowed his eyes suspiciously at her, obviously contemplating where she was going with this point before nodding. "Yes, I remember hearing of a band of rogues led by a huge muskrat some seasons back. He's been dead for years now, though."
Something flashed in Adrin's eyes for an instant, but she dashed that away almost immediately, and said, "That muskrat was the very murderer of my family. I lost a mother, father, and a brother to him and his band. I could hate them to the very core of my being, sir, and I think even you would acknowledge I'd have a good reason to. Which, I admit, I did—for less than a day…"
"It was on the very night that my family had been slain that I met someone whom I did not expect. I had fallen asleep in my hiding place and was awoken to rummaging around in my house. And I found a wildcat in my home. You can imagine that I was all at once terrified and violent toward the creature, hating it as much as I hated the muskrat. Yet, as you can see, I am still alive today and without a scar. Now, why would that be if a wildcat found me?"
The badger remained silent to Adrin's rhetorical question, just as she hoped, and she continued, "It's because that creature showed me as much compassion as any woodlander would have if they'd found me instead. She soothed my fears, respectably buried my family, and shared her food with me as we journeyed to Redwall. It was there she left me in the care of the Redwallers, and set off in pursuit of those bandits who'd also killed her own family. She is also probably the killer of those bandits."
Adrin watched Lord Broadstripe more intently than she probably should've, but McKaid let out a small, slightly relieved sigh at the words the badger uttered. "I had heard that a wildcat had in fact slaughtered the vermin you speak of." The words grated through his teeth as though he were forced to agree with a point he didn't want to agree with. And he didn't, "Despite your reasoning, the logic I see behind your decision, I see it is nothing more than a foolish dream. You, so young and pretty and, yet… So naïve about warfare and what really goes on in the battlefield. Have you ever encountered those types out on the sands right now? They are nothing but heartless murderers."
"Oh, really? And you know this for a fact, sir?" Adrin asked still neutrally. McKaid could tell she was trying to maintain her cool, but she was leaning forward staring intently at the object which stood in the way of attempting her idea.
"I don't have to know, I merely have to look out one of these entrances to see hateful, avaricious faces staring at me. They don't want peace, they merely want blood and treasure and land, Adrin of Redwall. Nothing drives them but their own greed," the badger lord intoned with a fiercer undertone than what he originally spoke in.
The mousemaid sighed and, for the first time that night, tore her eyes away from the badger to shake her head sadly. "That's to look at it without emotion. You only see what they want you to see, but won't you even hazard a guess that some, maybe even most, don't want to be fighting this war? You call them cowards because they probably do value their lives more than they do whatever they'll get out of this war; if they get anything out of it. Perhaps fear does drive them, but you expect them to die a hero's death every time they hesitate to participate in a battle? Or disagree with their lordship? They should have a choice, but they don't. Not like you give your hares. I have doubts about their leader's morals, but I'd have to say they're more likely to be 'vermin' than the soldiers he governs."
Lord Broadstripe now shook his head back at the mousemaid. The emotionlessness was now replaced by a feverish fire that burned in his eyes and he leaned forward toward the mousemaid, causing her to draw back. McKaid's breath caught in his throat as he saw the real fear, desperation, and…Realization. No, no, anything's possible! She can make this truce happen, McKaid screamed mentally and prepared to insert himself in front of Adrin to face the full brunt of the badger in front of him.
"Listen, young mouse, whether there really are soldiers out there that are exactly as you describe is beside the point. They are at the foot of my mountain ready to bombard us and invade and fill the surrounding land—including Redwall!—with malice and hatred. We must stop them before it goes any further. Long Patrol, continue preparation for the coming confrontation," the badger lord added as an afterthought when he glanced around to see all the hares staring at them with a mixture of shock and grim knowledge.
Adrin couldn't contain herself any longer. "That malice and hatred has already spread to you! Listen to you speak! Do you not feel that there might be at least one good creature in the entire horde who might agree with my views? Maybe they see it the same way you do! You are the enemy, and they have to prevent you from stealing all the land around, the good land! Perhaps they are fighting for families as much as you are fighting for your own families. Can that not be true?" She asked aloud to the surrounding hares, who watched the debate with new enlightenment or reserved cynicism.
"Colonel Crenshaw, please escort Adrin and McKaid of Redwall to rooms far enough away from the battle that will ensue," he said then turned away and refused to exchange anymore words with the idealistic mousemaid.
The fiery warrior finally stood and defended her, just as he promised he would. Trying to filter out any irritation at the badger, he still managed conviction and said, "My Lord, aren't you going to even try a truce! What is the point of just walking away? Are you just going to continue with this cycle? The cycle of war and peace. You just want that to continue when you could grow old and die of natural causes rather than being skewered out on the battlefield. That's what you're sending your hares out for, and there will be deaths. Don't you want to save them from that?" McKaid shuddered as he glanced around ashen at the hares. He knew that this time tomorrow he would not be seeing as many of the hares as there were now, instead he'd be looking at their stiff, lifeless bodies thinking of how their deaths could be prevented.
Lord Broadstripe looked at McKaid long and hard with calculating eyes as though he were sizing up the threat the young mouse presented same as he would size up the warlord just outside. McKaid glowered back at him with his mouth set in a firm line, and waited for the answer. The great badger glanced around at the hares still mingling in the dining hall before asking a question spoken so softly that all nearly had to lean forward to hear, "All who are willing to lay their lives on the line for this battle tomorrow, say "eulalia."
"Eulalia! Eulalia," the shout began as a low rumble, issued only by those present, but when other hares from the outer halls picked up the word, they screamed the battle cry even louder. The chant continued running through the halls and out the window, enlivening the spirits around them and whipping the hares into a frenzy, lusting for battle.
McKaid paled and gazed desperately around him before his eyes turned to Adrin. She had gazed around with a strange, desperate determination and pleading. Yet as the shout continued with more potency each time it rang, it seemed to loosen the very rocks her ideal had been founded on. As it continued, those rocks crumbled until she was slumped over the table, mourning her ideal. Mourning for the creatures that were to die the next day.