The Newcomer of Redwall

Book 1 The Stranger (or Heaven, interrupted)

Chapter 8

Basil Stag Hare

Simon scared him. Simon scared him rather badly. Not the way that the use of swords secretly scared him, no; it was something much more primal than that. Like the cold ball that formed in the pit of his gut when he thought of snakes, or the fabled assassins, sent by the mad vermin to kill one into a slow, painful manner. And, on top of that, he was rather sure that Simon was more than just a little insane. It was the look in his eyes when Basil had surprised him…Wild and desperate, filled with hatred and mistrust. Basil realized that Simon put on a mask when he was around others. However, the hare was far from interested in finding out just HOW the human had lost his mind.

That, of course, was nothing compared to the Abbey.

He heaved a heavy sigh. Out of all the creatures that were more than likely immune to the disease, why did it have to be the human? When Cheek had taken up that knife to him…Basil shivered visibly. What was terrible, he thought, was the he was sure that they knew he knew what was happening. Or at least, he had an idea. They were all ill, seriously ill, but not in the way of the body. More like an infection in the mind. He shook his head in frustration. This wasn't the time, nor the place. He needed to do Simon's bidding, because, strange as it seemed, he trusted the mad human.

"What an odd place the Abbey has become lately," He murmured to himself.

Rallah Kheme

The room the Abbey had given her had lost all its light. Not surprising, considering the sun had gone down hours ago, but still…When she first got her, the room always seemed to give off a warmth, a glow from the walls, comforting…But now, it was cold and dark here, and she knew that it would be that way, even after the sun had reached high noon. Currently, though, the female hedgehog's mind was far away, encased in the protective sanctuary of her mind as she wrote. Rallah dipped her quill into the inkwell and continued writing:

I have tracked the wolf to the far south. I got to Redwall about three days before the first infection. I believe Maliss to be amassing new army after his defeat at the foothills. I can smell his stench permeating every stone of this once peaceful Abbey. I can hear the words unspoken between him and his mindslaves. What frightens me is the speed at which he took over—less than two days were needed from first infection to final takeover, and that poor human! However, I have a feeling that this Simon creature may be a large obstacle to Maliss's design, and his sudden appearance is something far from random. Galen be honored, I believe that this, this now, this here, is the final stand for the spider. If it be Galen's will, Maliss will be dead by the end of the season. I know it to be true, Maliss's chaos is the enemy of The Seeping Order. I have come to the conclusion that my tasks are threefold: Find any others immune to the disease and escape with them from the Abbey, meet with and speak to this Simon, and ultimately kill Maliss. I will meditate, attempt to have a Sight of Maliss's encampment. It cannot be too far from here. Galen be honored.

She wiped the quill off and set it down, capping the inkwell and standing slowly, feeling her knees crack. Her dry features split into a smile equivalent to a hacking cough.

"I'm getting far too old for this," She said to the wall. Of course, the wolf never aged…But that was from selling his soul to the Longs Miomni, the Sleeping Chaos, the Southern Star, the Male One, the Servant, the Artful He, He of the Split Feet. Several million names for He, such a false god, just as many for the true god, the Female, the Order, the Light, the Awoken Half, the Torch of the Ocean, She who made the grass grow and set the seasons right when they dared quarrel.

Rallah walked to her bed, crawled onto it, settled herself into a sitting position, and formed the Sigil of Galen with her paws, closing her eyes and murmuring, "Galen be honored, give me the sight, give me the sign. Ostendo mihi via of scelestus lupus, ostendo mihi semita servant, ostendo mihi superstes…" She began to repeat the words, slowly sinking into a liquid-like drone.

Simon Gilnom

Simon was looking upwards at the band of stars when Ross returned. The real one didn't even look at his brother as he said, "Why do we need the pack?"

Ross sat down on the opposite side of the road and leaned his back against a nearby tree. He was silent for several seconds, then replied, "You'll find out. Just trust me, you'll need it."

Simon looked back down the road towards the Abbey, shrugged, sighed, and sat down, laying back against a tree in a mirror image of his brother and falling asleep.

Basil Stag Hare

The north door was as Basil had left it, unlocked. He opened it a crack and peeked in, gathering what had happened in his absence. Not much. The Abbey, externally, seemed to be completely normal. He slipped in and slid the door shut quietly, then stopping. Why was he sneaking around? The only light came from the bonfires, and they were in the central courtyard, on the western side of the Abbey. Nevertheless, his gut told him to be cautious, and his gut had never led him astray. He hung close to the eastern wall, keeping tight to the shadows and slipping into the main Abbeybuilding.

Matthais

He stumbled into the wall, sliding down it into a sitting position. His body racked with fever chills. His body baked heat. He was thirsty, delirious. He screamed out the name of his wife Cornflower. Someone came to him, put their paw on his forehead, said something. His world was a red haze of pain. He collapsed, moaning, as he was carried away.

You have something of mine, mouse.

I…I do?

Yes. And you will return it to me.

Who are you?

Call me…Heinpox.

What should I do?

Rallah Kheme

She had just finished her vision when the hare appeared. He had opened her door and slipped into her room like a whisper of a shadow, almost vanishing in the darkness left by the extinguished lamp. She stayed silent, watching in quiet fascination as the hare pressed his long ear against the door and closed his eyes. She could hear his breathing slow.

He stayed like that, motionless, for a length of time before whispering, "I don't think they saw me, but it was close. I suppose that they know I'm not sick. What about you? Are you one of them?" She started when he directed the inquiry to her, and nodded. She flushed softly as she realized that his eyes were still closed, and replied, also in a whisper, "No. Not sick." She stood and said strongly, "Pareo atque moneo lupus?"

He stood and dusted himself off, stepping away from the door. She noticed that he was making a conscious attempt to stay out of the moonlight shafts cast by the open windows. "What…Doesn't matter. I need to get to the infirmary. I think that you should come with me. I don't know if you're still safe, but if you're not sick now, you may be soon. Gather your things. I'll come back soon." Just as silently as he had slipped in, he vanished again, leaving Rallah to herself for now.

Basil Stag Hare

He stepped from the guest room of the Abbey where a Rallah Kheme was reportedly staying, out into the hallway and ducked down into a shadow as two mice walked by. They looked all right at first glance, and he almost said something, but then he saw the yellow tint to their eyes, and small bald patches at their throats.

Sick, he thought, and flattened himself closer to the wall, letting his breath out and holding it. They passed, and Basil ran, no, sprinted as only a hare could, down the hallway, diving into the shadows of an open doorway, creeping like a nightmare through the sleeping Abbey. Even though it was all false, those who were not sick would succumb soon, and some would be killed in their sleep. He hated how the wolf had them all at a disadvantage. He returned from his thoughts and stepped into the infirmary. Auma had beaten him there. Auma

Basil thought he was sneaky, but even when they had been young, Auma had always been able to see through his 'camouflage' when others could not. Now, though, she couldn't even get past her own muddled thoughts. It was so much to take in.

The entire Abbey…And Simon had vanished. Her nose twitched and she turned. Basil was standing in the doorway of the room. She turned back to the window and looked up at the moon, placing a paw on the sill. "I don't know why I came here." She said softly, choking faintly.

Basil took a step into the room and shut the door. He put a paw on her huge shoulder and gave it a gentle tug. "Hold it together, love. We'll get out of here soon enough. Come with me, I got what I came for." He hefted the bag that she knew belonged to Simon and smiled thinly. "This is so sick," He whispered, starting to backpedal. She nodded, straightened her shoulders, and started after him.

Simon Gilnom

The moon's zenith had come and gone; now setting, the huge and winking moon. The night and the silent water brought a steady unease to even the more evil of the pair.

Simon had vomited twice after he woke up. Ross smiled as he watched; after finishing, Simon had given him a look to kill. Simon wiped at the sweat at his brow, even though it was a pleasantly cool night. He shivered violently as Basil, Auma, and one other, what looked like a hedgehog, approached him.

Basil chucked the pack at Simon's chest and said, "Well? Let's see it."

Simon caught it and stumbled, dropping the pack and rummaging through it. "What am I looking for?" He mumbled to nothing, waited a few seconds, and nodded, unzipping one pocket and drawing out the Magnum .44. He hefted the gun in his hand and gazed at it dumbly, wiping another hand at the sheen of sweat on his forehead and groaned softly. "A gift? This is horrible…I don't want this…"

He reached back into the pocket of the bag and pulled out a handful of bullets for the gun. Small beady tears of memory were beginning to form in his eyes as he let them rain back into the pocket, continuously muttering, "I hate you." Over and over.

He jammed the gun into the pocket of the pack and looked at the others. "What?"

They gaped at him in silent, dumbfounded awe. "What is that?" The new one asked, pointing (to Simon's relief) at the pocket of the pack, indicating the gun. Simon looked at the pocket like an idiot, trying to connect everything through the smoky red haze of his head, muttering, "That…is a bad idea in the making." He looked to the north and said simply, "He's already here, but the army is coming, something like three or four days now." With that, he collapsed.