The Book of Athanasius

Chapter 2

"The old otter"

Brunt and Trov reached the bottom of the canyon. Landing on the bank of the river they began searching for their two lost friends. Trov shouted out Ammer and Bernal's names while Brunt scanned the river. There came no reply from the calls and no sign of their passing could be seen. The two otters looked at each other. Visions of the worst filled their minds.

Kicking a nearby rock into the water, Brunt cursed himself. He was the one closest to Ammer and Bernal yet he didn't notice they were gone till the dust storm had cleared. When he realized they were no longer above him they had already fallen out of sight. He hung his head and tried to quell the anger he felt.

Trov saw the pain Brunt was feeling but had no words he could say to help. Instead, his mind began to go to work. Reaching into his supply sack, he pulled out a map and started making quick glances to where they climbed down from and where the river flowed. Having gained his bearings Trov ran his finger along the map, coming to a stop near the edge. "Well ah'll be a stoat's daughter," he muttered.

Quickly putting the map away Trov hurried over to Brunt who stood and stared at the rushing river. He heard Trov come to a stop next to him. The reassuring presence of his friend made Brunt no longer able to keep his thoughts concealed. As he talked, each sentence seemed to quiver on the edge of a raging shout. "…Ah should've kept ma eye on em. If ah was watchin' em maybe ah could've caught em when they fell……This wasn't supposed ta happen, Trov! We promised em they'd be okay an' now look!...Blast! Ah'm the strongest beast in the whole village, but wot's the point o havin' strength if ya can't protect yer friends?

Trov patted his shoulder, hoping to calm his friend down. "Look," he said, "Ah know yer worried about em but ah need ye ta stay wit me mate. No amount o strength could've stopped wot happened, so there's no sense in gettin' ya'self lost about it. We didn't find em 'ere at the bank, so that means they must've hit the river an' been carried off. You an' I both know wot a difference there is between water an' rock."

Brunt relaxed and gave a nod. There was still a chance Bernal and Ammer were still alive and he knew it was foolish to squander that chance with hatred. Trov was glad his words helped and let Brunt in on his finding. "Besides, If wot this map tells me is true, then this river is goin' ta flow right into Mossflower. So let's get a move on, those two 'ave a head start on us an' you know if Bernal beat us there we wouldn't hear the end o it."

With a smile Trov took off down the bank. Brunt gave chase and soon passed him, returning the smile. Fear for the worst still hung in the minds of both otters, but they were never ones to give up hope, and had each other to remind themselves of that.

A thick and heavy white mist filled the air around Bernal. He had been walking in the same direction for sometime now and still had not found anything. Even though he didn't know where he was going, he was in no hurry or even worried. A strange calm had been with him since he found himself in this world and with no troubles to weigh him down he kept moving on.

Bernal narrowed his eyes. Something in the distance was beginning to take shape. His spirits rose as the shapes of various beasts could be seen ahead of him in the mist. Although he could not tell who they were Bernal still felt they were familiar, as if he knew each and every one of them. Getting closer he noticed they were beckoning him forward.

Eager to join them, the squirrel broke out into a run. He didn't make it more then a couple feet before quickly stopping. The most repulsive smell was coming from behind him. Bernal bent over and covered his nose, trying not to gag. Looking up, he saw the figures were still there. Their arms were spread wide in a welcoming motion. He wanted to keep going but his curiosity for the smell had overcome him. Bernal apologized to those ahead and, taking a deep breath, turned around. The world was filled with a blinding light.

Bernal slowly opened his eyes. He found himself lying in what felt like a bed. Above him various roots of some great plant hung from a dirt ceiling. Bernal wondered where he was and what happened to the mist filled land.

His thoughts were interrupted as he felt something squeeze his hand. He turned his head to see what it was. The squeeze grew harder as the face of Ammer stared back at him. Tears began to flow down her face. Bernal sat up and was about to ask what was wrong when she fell upon him, holding his body in a tight embrace. A sharp inward breath passed through Bernal's teeth as pain shot through his body. While trying to recover from the initial shock he managed to wrap his arms around her. He held her softly, reassuring her that everything thing was okay. Ammer continued to cry. All her fear and worry were rushed out in one outburst of emotion. As time passed Ammer's sobs slowly died out, leaving only the steady breathing of one exhausted field mouse

While Ammer slept Bernal examined their surroundings. It was night outside. A dim light from candles scattered about the floor filled the cave. The walls, floor, and ceiling were nothing more then packed in dirt. It could've been a rather ordinary cave, but there were certain items that looked out of place. There were large stacks of books, shelves with unused sets of dinning wear, and a writing desk. A thin layer of dust covered them and testified to their unwillingness to belong in this dug out dwelling. Despite the earthy appearance they had, they still looked liked they belonged in the homes Bernal knew. The bed he was laying in was even rather fancy. Carved from wood with sheets made of cloth, it was comfortable despite the pain he felt from his injuries. What was strangest of all was a large wooden club, stuck in the wall opposite of him and Ammer. It looked as though it was driven in with incredible force.

A strange hacking laughter broke the silence. It was followed by a ragged and hoarse sounding voice from deeper in the cave. "Hek Hek Hek. Squirrel finally get up eh? Squirrel lucky ta 'ave friend like lady mouse. Lady Mouse not leave Squirrel's side since Whiskem brought Mouse an' Squirrel ta Whiskem's home. Lady Mouse worry Squirrel would not live, but Whiskem know better. Whiskem see beast worse'n Squirrel live. Hek Hek Hek."

From out of the shadows came one of the strangest otters Bernal had ever seen. Hunched over the otter was covered in a cloak that seemed just as alive as the creature wearing it, with lumps of mold and fungi growing in various areas. The passing seasons had not been kind to the old otter. Wrinkled and grey, each arm and leg seemed to shake with every step the otter took. The simple act of walking seemed a struggle but the otter still did it with an eerie glee. It was carrying something in each hand. In one there was a short wooden cane while the other held a wooden bowl filled with some sort of thick steaming liquid.

The otter set the bowl beside Bernal. Bernal held back a gag as the mystery of the awful smell in his dream was quickly solved by the contents of what was now by the bed. He attempted to politely cover his nose while looking to see what was in the bowl. Only one or two vegetables were recognizable in the grayish bubbling broth.

The old otter Whiskem noticed Bernal eyeing the soup. "Squirrel no need ta fear that. Whiskem's soup good fer healing many a beast. Any sickness or injury all seem much better after one eats it. Many times in past Whiskem hear it 'ave power ta wake the dead. Hek Hek Hek."

Bernal did not doubt Whiskem's claim. He brought his back, allowing himself a breath of fresh air and a chance to speak. "I'm fine…really," he said, "You've done a lot for us already kind sir and I just want to say tha"

A loud thwack echoed in the cave as Whiskem hit Bernal firmly on the head with the cane. Bernal clutched his head. "Ow! What did you do that for?" he yelled.

"Sir? Sir?" shouted the otter, "Whiskem not sir! Not sir at all! Hmph. Some thanks Squirrel show Whiskem. Whiskem save Squirrel, care fer Squirrel, an' Squirrel goes an' calls Whiskem sir. Maybe Whiskem call Squirrel Lady Squirrel now. Would you care fer that Lady Squirrel?"

All the yelling caused Ammer to wake from her sleep. Looking up she saw Bernal holding his head in pain. With an immediate concern for her friend she started to tend to the large bump forming on Bernal. "My goodness! What happened?" she asked.

"That crazy loon hit me with a cane," he replied.

There was another loud thwack as Ammer gave Bernal a sharp slap on his already injured head. Putting her hands on her hips Ammer began scolding the besieged squirrel. "Bernal! I will not have you insulting Miss Whiskem! She rescued and cared for us all out of the goodness of her kind heart. We owe our lives to her. Now, you apologize this instant."

Bernal felt like he was trapped in one of his nightmares. Ammer's face was set in a look that would make the sturdiest of beast crumble into a wailing infant. He looked over to Whiskem who gave him a smile of crooked teeth. There was no way out of it. Giving the greatest performance he could, Bernal apologized to Whiskem. She accepted it and promptly made him eat her soup.

Whiskem's boasts had proved to be true. After one spoonful Bernal forgot all the pain he felt. The dread of the next dozen spoonfuls seemed to overcome all feeling and the smell coming off the soup kept him from passing out.

As Bernal continued to endure his torture Ammer excused herself. Giving a courtesy to Whiskem she retired to a small mat placed at the foot of the bed. When it was noticeable that she had gone back to sleep, Whiskem pulled a stool next to Bernal and sat down. Keeping her voice low as to not wake Ammer, the otter started talking. "Hek Hek Lady Mouse sure be a strange creature eh Squirrel? Whiskem never seen a lady mouse put a beast in its place like that before. But even so, Lady Mouse must be special ta Squirrel fer Squirrel ta risk life. Whiskem was wondering, wot make Squirrel and Lady mouse take such dangerous risk?"

Bernal set the bowl down. His face was somber as he recalled the past. "We were headed for a place called Redwall Abbey," he finally said, "You see, our village we came from wasn't always a free one. Long ago, before me or Ammer were born, our village was under the control of a group of vermin. I was told it had been that way for ages, but one day a rumor started to spread. The rumor spoke of a place called Redwall and of the creatures who lived there, honest hardworking beasts who lived in happiness and freedom. The people of my village had known nothing but oppression, and this rumor had given them the strength and courage to rise up and drive out the vermin. After the village was freed many beasts wished to make the long trek to live in Redwall, but by then Redwall was considered a sacred place. Only those who could, in some way, serve a purpose and help the Redwallers were allowed to go. There were two otters traveling with us, Brunt and Trov. Brunt was the strongest beast of the village though he is only a little older then myself, and I had never met a smarter beast then Trov. He was well on his way to becoming the village leader but chose make the journey instead. And Ammer, well…No one can handle little ones like her and from what we've heard Redwall needs all the help it can get…We were all making the journey together before me and Ammer fell and were swept away…"

Whiskem leaned on her cane, raising an eyebrow at Bernal. "Interestin' story Squirrel, but Whiskem thinks Squirrel left out somethin'…Why does Squirrel journey ta Redwall? What does squirrel offer ta the Redwallers?"

Bernal did not give an answer. There was a long silence as he just stared at the foot of the bed. Though he was not facing her, he could feel Whiskem's eyes on him. Her stare burrowing into him, trying to force out the answer he was so reluctant to say.

Bernal couldn't hold it back anymore. In a whisper of shame his reply slipped past his lips. "I…don't know," he said, "Back at the village I had never really been good at anything. It's not that I didn't try, it's just I could never find the devotion the other villagers had for the things they did. Since I never excelled at anything the elders denied my request to travel to Redwall. It was because of Brunt, Trov, and Ammer that I was able to go. They snuck me out with them, leaving a day early so that no one would notice. Heh, they told me I would be able to figure out what my purpose was on our way there. For a moment I thought I did. I thought that if I could save Ammer and ensure that she would make it to Redwall then that would've been my purpose…but now…It doesn't matter anyway now. There's no way we're reaching Redwall. The river carried us so far down it'll take seasons to get back to where we were."

Shame and disappointment over his own words made Bernal shift uneasily in the bed. Turning his head he was met with a disgusted look from Whiskem. With a snort and a stamp of her foot she stood up. "Hmph! Now Squirrel just speak nonsense. Whiskem know Redwall very well. Redwall in Mossflower wood, yes? Well, Squirrel an' Lady Mouse in Mossflower now, not more'n few days from 'sacred' Redwall. As fer Squirrel havin' no purpose…Hmph! A beast with no purpose is a beast not lookin' fer one. Squirrel certaintly an able beast. Savin' Lady Mouse an' survivin' wasn't somthin' anybeast could do. Is Squirrel educated? Can Squirrel read? Can Squirrel write?"

Anger slowly grew in Bernal for Whiskem. He had heard this speech before, many times. His parents, the elders, even his friends had all said the same thing. Each time Bernal thought that if it was that simple he would've figured it out on his own. Sighing, Bernal nodded. It was a hesitant nod.

Whiskem threw her arms up in amazement. "Then Whiskem thinks there should be no problem wit Squirrel. Squirrel 'ave many more choices then most beasts do. Hmph…Whiskem remember last beast that visit. Whiskem found a Rat washed up along bank, but Whiskem learn that even Rat had a purpose."

That was all Bernal could take. To hear himself being outdone by a rat ignited his anger. "You're telling me you cared for some despicable vermin?" he shouted, "And what purpose did this villain have? To pillage and murder innocent creatures without a care for who they were?"

A loud snarl came from Whiskem. She quickly grabbed Bernal by the shoulder. He flinched in both pain and shock from the otter's suddenly hard grip. Bernal found himself frightened. There was a vengeful look in Whiskem's eyes, a fire of pure rage seemed to burn inside them. When she spoke it was a sharp and hateful hissing sound. "Villain? Vermin? Squirrel talks as if Squirrel knew Rat. Squirrel knows nothing! Rat was true warrior! Rat was something Squirrel an' friends would never be, an' ta talk o Rat as common thug is insult!"

Whiskem raised her cane to strike Bernal. He closed his eyes and braced for the hit, but it never came. There was a long pause, then Whiskem let go of Bernal's shoulder. Opening his eyes, he looked up at Whiskem. Her head was turned. She seemed to be starring at the club imbedded in the wall. She turned back to Bernal and lowered her cane. Her face was pale and her voice was now a little more then a whisper. "…Whiskem sorry. Squirrel have many troubles. Not right fer Squirrel ta deal with Whiskem's."

Picking up the soup bowl beside Bernal the old otter made her way to the back of the cave, blowing out the candles as she passed them. Before blowing out the last one she spoke to Bernal. "Squirrel need much rest before Squirrel can finish journey. Squirrel should not worry about anythin' else."

Blowing out the last candle, Whiskem left Bernal in darkness. Laying back down in the bed, he was soon fast asleep. The cave was now silent save for the deep breathing of two sleeping beasts and the quiet sobs of an old otter.