Steel Reason
BERSTRAATT, LORDSHIP OF SVARTEMYRR, KINGDOM OF SOUTHSWARD
It is said of disaster that it descends like a pile of bricks. Berstraat was hit by one of these, though it was more like a sledgehammer than a pile of bricks in nature.
Of course, when Denebas and his band entered the village, he had no way of finding out until he met with the survivors.
"Can you tell me calmly what they did again?" The squirrelord knelt in front of a sobbing mouse. An army had passed there, that was quite evident. Building that had once stood for tens of seasons had been razed to the ground, their inhabitants either slaughtered or left homeless. Their only consolation was that winter had just passed, and freezing to death was unlikely.
"The soldiers," the civilian managed to stop a sob. "They ransacked the whole place. They killed my brother… His only crime was to defend our home!" Just like that, he broke down fully and completely, tears freely streaming from his eyes, crumpling against the wall in a heap.
Denebas had had enough. He exited the room with all the subtlety of a raging badger, and turned to his squadron. "We're leaving, but not together."
Murmurs quickly erupted from the six. The journey from Bleswyn to here took quite a long time, twenty and seven days to be exact. "What do you mean by that?"
"You all know what happened here."
The band nodded and another squirrel spoke up. "Permission to speak, your lordship."
It was the noble squirrel's turn to nod. "Go on, Valdas."
"Somerled. Hard to believe that our side is the one doing all the destruction and pillaging."
"That's why you will be staying here." Denebas sighed. "This is not the first time a Trielian army crossed the range, but to have crossed into Dravania? The folk here can hardly comprehend war - Dravania had been Southard for a century. You here, all of you will help them out. Somerled's marching to his death right now, so he won't disturb us. Help build back houses, buy food, tend to the sick and wounded, the usual." Seeing the confusion on his team's faces, the squirrel added quickly, "You'll all get triple pay for that."
Valdas was more concerned than in a celebratory mood. "But," he sighed. "Your Lordship, I am more worried about you than we are ourselves. As you might know by now, we have grown to be loyal to you more than anyone except your brother. I don't know what might happen if you go after Waycaster alone."
"Just do not worry and you all will be fine - and so shall I." Denebas smiled as he slung his pack over his shoulder. "May your hearts and minds guide you forth."
HOLMINSTER, CROWNLANDS, KINGDOM OF SOUTHSWARD
Erlend must have been the unluckiest fool to ever live. Everything actually went well for the Southards - a first.
At first, Lord Garrion had no way to stop the Trielian advance into Southsward. King Garmund of Triel was obviously no Somerled - he had experience and talent. But an army ran on its stomach, and it was the idea of some lowly Otterguard Captain who decided to use scorched earth tactics on the host.
When Erlend returned to the Garmund's host, he was all too aware of the situation he was in. Beasts were complaining left and right, and Erlend had to haul a few attempted deserters back to camp. They could count themselves all too lucky - Garmund would see fit to behead them one by one.
He had embraced King Garmund as an equal, both of them being kings, though Erlend was one by marriage and Garmund born one. What was more important was that they were not merely liege and vassal anymore, but more like a pair of brothers. Of course, Garmund's brothers died as infants and Erlend's life would have been much easier if Becker had bothered to follow suit.
"Keep the king safe! Don't let him come to harm!" The otterking gestured at Duke Altayras, and set off into the camp. Erlend was not like Becker at all - he would fight at the front of his beasts. After all, there was no better way to keep morale high.
Everything was on fire - a Southard ploy to create more chaos. No Trielian could be spared the indignity of having their camp raided and burnt down. How had this even happened?
Erlend began to recall. Was it true that somebeast from the enemy wormed his way into the kitchens to scout? It was not logical, though. That somebeast would have poisoned every beast of rank before absconding, and Erlend was strangely grateful that that did not happen.
It had to be the strange otter in an oversized Trielian uniform then. He avoided questions and just looked at friends. Erlend had assumed that he was an idiot, one who did not know his place in the army, but the truth was simply much, much worse.
Erlend flung himself into a Sword-sworn squirrel, his simple guisarme rending through uniform, sinew and bone with one simple strike, carefully blocking of another attack in the same movement of his weapon. It was no Heavensward, but it was good enough for the otter.
To be fair, Erlend missed his weapon. Forged from starborne steel and tempered in blood, the spear was a wedding gift from King Thordan of Parma. To be fair, the old otter was a better friend than a father-in-law, but Erlend was almost as loyal to him compared to King Garmund.
After all, who didn't like the King of Parma? Thordan was a gentle, noble soul, but capable of great sorrow and greater mirth. A pity he did not have any son to continue his legacy, though two grandsons shall suffice.
Corrado Truetide was to be heir in all too many of the late king's possessions, yet somehow he and Erlend shared a disdain for the prospect of occupying the Parman throne. Being only months older than Sigurd (Seasons rest his soul), Corrado reminded Erlend of him, despite the young otterlords never having met. After all, Lorelei needed somebeast strong enough to defend her claims and rights, and Erlend was not interested as he should be.
Young Thordan was even worse off in this regard. He shared his grandfather's love of learning and skills in healing, and his sister's capacity for kindness and selflessness, and his father's loyalty to his liege, but he had nothing in common with his mother or both of his brothers. Of that Erlend was certain. Lorelei's methods of toughening his child up had unwittingly created an atmosphere of intimidation and terror, and he was more timid and unsure of himself than ever before. His stuttering got worse as well.
When Erlend received information that he was to be Dravain King, he doubted it, and would much rather it be proven to be falsehoods. Only the confirmation of King Garmund, his old friend, did he believe. Thordan, a king? The lad did not have the strength to harm his foes physically, nor the will to harm them. Instead of keeping the realm safe, perhaps Thordan should look after himself a bit more.
Erlend screamed as another Otterguard fell to his spear. He would have to give his brother credit for the tactics that he had used. Organising it all required the makings of a military genius, able to attack, mobilise and defend at will, and not constrained by times and circumstances.
But Becker was not capable of such acts - this had to be the fruit of somebeast else's mind. Garrion? No. Not his nephew who knows all of running a realm and nothing else. Godred could have been a better choice, but he was off in Parma trying to make Parma free of Parmans. To put it in the simplest of terms, he would have no luck.
But who was responsible for this scheme? Perhaps it was no noble at all. Ralos? No. He would not pull any scheme with the slightest possibility of risk. He could reason with Trielian steel, but not against his own fears and worries.
Before long, all three of his enemies fell before him. He had no time to mourn anyone, friend or enemy alike. He had a king to save.
"I will fight to the end with my troops!" It was the king's voice, loud and clear. Though the flames and the fumes meant that nothing can be seen clearly under his helm, Erlend knew where his liege was now.
"My liege, you must retreat from the battlefield now, or risk losing your life!" Erlend had never seen Altayras that nervous before, and he still has not. But the raspy voice was just as unmistakable as their king's.
Erlend leaped over a burning pile of wood and quickly cut down an unsuspecting Southard, his last cry resembling more of a choking sound. Before long, he was with the two. They were fighting side by side to the exit of the camp, Landwaker and Heavensward in their paw. Garmund's axe having been stained with blood and gore, and Erlend's old weapon was in a similar state.
Every eight steps, there was an abandoned weapon of a soldier, dead, deserted or captured. Every five steps, there was some lost appendage lying on the ground, or feeding flames the Southards had started, wittingly or not. And every two there was a corpse. Red-uniformed Otterguards and Swordbeasts in blue were lying on the ground, surrounded by red and yellow clad Trielians, as if they were merely asleep. But the marks they bore - slit throats, arrows piercing bodies, burn marks and more - demonstrated that the circumstances of their 'sleep' was far from tranquil.
It was exactly like the legends the skalds had sung about the world's end. Brothers had fought and killed each other, and axes and swords rend shields apart. The world has been swept in a whirlwind, and mercy shall be known as a thing of the past. Thank you, Becker, for all that you have done for the world. Really. Your children would love it.
"Erlend!" King Garmund waved his paw. It took another few leaps and a few Southards dispatched before the otter joined him.
"You must leave! Now!" This was the first time Erlend raised his voice at his king, and it might very well be the last.
"Bother me no longer," the king groaned. "And save your own fur!"
Erlend knelt. 'I am loyal, but if you do not flee now, I shall obligate you myself!"
The king took a deep breath (which was not easy, considering the flames), and conceded. Altayras turned away from the fleeing mouse, but Erlend was having none of it.
'Go with your king."
"But-"
Erlend silenced him by reaching for Heavensward. The two shared a tense silence, while Garmund took his leave and the Southards closed in slowly. "Pretty little thing, is it not?"The squirrel nodded, earning a smile from the otter. "Use it well. Become one with it." A pat on the shoulder, and the squirrel also departed.
Seems like I have nothing else to do… better do something Becker would have been proud of. After all, he can still talk about it long after I'm gone.
The otter turned towards the encroaching army. "I am Erlend, King of Garlesca, Duke of Thavnair, Lord of Kaldos, and father to the Regent of Dravania. None of you rabble shall pass!"
A mocking voice (with Erlend's accent, even) erupted from the leader of the enemy troupe. The red-clad Otterguard clearly had some position of note. "Well, I am Captain Galen Snowpath, and you can go snuff it! The exit is that way, you pompous little-"
The other otter could not finish his sentence, as Erlend rushed toward him. Guisarme at the ready, he struck right as Galen parried his blow, his sword shattering into a thousand little pieces with the impact.
Before Erlend could finish off the downed otter, a hedgehog seemingly appeared out of nowhere. Throwing himself right at the otterlord, he managed to stall for enough time for Galen to draw his dagger and slash.
Of course, that did not work. Erlend's armour was made by the best of the best, and this body was unscathed. A gauntlet to the face quickly rendered the hedgehog unconscious, and the otterking soon stood up to face his challenger, now armed with only a dagger, once more.
A voice rang out from the back. "Abon!" It was another otter, a captain as well, but of Sword, as evidenced by his blue uniform. 'Abon' was not as much of a battle cry as much as worry for his incapacitated friend - the one who had a large bleeding dent within his head.
Erlend barely had time to kick Galen away before he had to avoid an axe coming at him. The Sword captain was no inferior to Galen, but he seemed to have the advantage of surprise with him. Not to mention the fact that this newcomer was obviously fresh, while Erlend was tired from all the killing.
Not just the ones that had perished in this. All their kin dead, Bedric and Sigurd Swalestrom included, and some of the beasts Erlend had led to war before. They would never see their families again, yet Erlend would simply be ransomed to fight again. This would not stand.
"By Great Seasons, a Dravanian spearbeast shall never run from battle!" He lifted his polearm and swung, intending to pierce his attacker's heart. But this one simply sidestepped his attack, and slammed the edge of his axe into Erlend's side.
Erlend held a scream in his throat. This wound could be fatal, even with treatment. After all, his armour was too light for a proper knight. The Dravanian otter had forsaken sturdiness for mobility, and now he paid the price.
Then Galen plunged a dagger into his knee.
Erlend screamed. The pain was too much for the otter, and all his warrior training seemed to fail him. Flailing around with his spear did no good in crushing his foes, and soon he fell into the ever present grasp of unconsciousness.
SALAMANDASTRON, LORDSHIP OF SALAMANDASTRON
The world of dreams is a wondrous place. After all, anything could happen in a dream - including meeting mighty badger lords of the past.
"Who are you, mole, and for what do you intrude upon our slumber?"
Arbert spent a day and a night training for all this, so he quickly found the correct answer. "I am Arbert of Floret, and I seek answers and guidance from your wisdom."
The first lord stepped up his voice. "Do you know who we are?"
"You are the Badger Lords of Salamandastron, Protectors of the Shores."
The ghostly badger nodded. "So I see you know us more than you know your own fate."
The mole nodded. "This is indeed the case."
"Though we would have welcomed your learned brother more, we will impart our words on you, and you shall leave a wiser beast."
An older badger drifted to the mole. Clothed in green from top to bottom, he wielded a massive broadsword that was even larger than Verminfate the Augmenter. "I am Lord Brocktree, friend of hares and bane of hordes. Hear my advice, Arbert. You will head to a place of cold and death, woodlander and vermin both at your side."
The first badger soon faded, only to be replaced by another badger, this time in yellow, with a bird by his side - a kestrel. "I am Sunflash, called the Mace by friend and foe alike. "You will go to the Castle, for the betterment of friend and brother. If this is not the case, the Recorder shall perish, alone and by paws wrought from thunder and darkness."
Arbert suppressed his questions. He was not supposed to interact with those figures, lest they reject him. A third badger appeared, this time holding a ghostly imitation of Verminfate that could just as easily pass as the real thing.
"I am Lord Rawnblade Widestripe, bearer of the sword and defender of the bell." Arbert knew this one - Joseph the Bellmaker knew him before his journey to Southsward, and wrote fondly of him in his memoirs. "Beware of those who have returned - those who have perished by your actions, but whose wills lingered, poisoning beasts, nations and worlds with words and deeds."
A fourth and fifth leapt out, one being clad in armour the colour of gold, the other being white of fur all over that no trace of black can be found. The voices said in unison. "We are Urthstripe the Strong and Urthwyte the Mighty, twin guardians of the Western Shoreline."
The gold one spoke first. "Go to the place where past and future meet, and quickly so! Go to the first Abbey! Go to Loamhedge!"
"If you do not go, you will have sidestepped your fate," the white badger spoke in a mournful tone. "You will surely perish at the paws of those who do not want to see your fate fulfilled by flame and sword alike."
The two spoke in unison. "Meet the enemy there, but fight the fox not. Speak!"
More badgers rose from the ground, earning a surprised gasp from Arbert. A lord in blue clothes, carrying an axe showed his face. "Blood shall feed blood." Then all faded into white.
Two otters, taller than all those Arbert had seen before, swung their swords in perfect synergy, but the vermin the blades were seeking avoided one and parried another with his black dagger.
A badgerlady in red, with both eyes having been blank, but blood and fury seemed to leak out with every second passed. 'Blood shall call blood."
Lightning rained on the army clad in blue, and while the grey vixen directed flows of aether, as vermin and woodlanders were five, but one.
A badger in robes of a denizen of Redwall Abbey, with a knowing look and a kind smile, which faded when he saw the mole. "Blood was, and blood is."
The Trielian king stood and the fox knelt, in dread and panic, as the Juska were to have their hopes, both genuine and falsified, dashed to pieces by each other.
A scarred badger with a large bow held in one paw, a quiver hung behind him, and he had his lust for vengeance sated long ago. "Blood shall ever be."
The King of the Peasants guided his staff carefully, blocking a sword strike and hitting his assailant's chest, while clipping his brother's ankle.
A badgerlord whose eyes were tired from reading, who had the glare of one who had made a great discovery. "Death shall sow and winter burn."
The dancing shadows forsake their mortal coils and become one in body as well as in mind. "I am become you," the first shall say; and the second shall answer, "and we are become one!" Light and darkness radiated from them both.
Yet another boar glad in yellow, but with a mark of flame atop his head, and who had some capacity for controlling himself at the best and worst of times. "The Lord of Chaos shall come with spring."
Within the circle of darkness stood the Seeker of the Stars, seeking to drag a warrior's light into the abyss with himself, ignoring his own tears as he sunk into what he thought was his short but sure demise.
A badgermaid, younger than all that have walked before her emerged at last, with a book in her paw and a motherly gaze. "Great Seasons save us all from him."
The rat darted through the streets of Floret with his weapon in both paws, seeking the beast who was responsible for his death, his eyes burning with blood and rage all the way.
With a lurch, Arbert leapt awake, blankets falling off his makeshift bed and Verminfate clattering down onto the ground. Remembering where he is, Arbert sighed in relief, as he picked up the sword and embraced Conjuration. Within the span of a second, a Pathway reared its head with the middle of chamber.
Dagbert would have to know all about what the badgers said, but he would be too busy in the meantime, having to deal with politics and all that. I should remain here until his job is done.
The Pathway was closed with a motion of the paw, but it shall surely open in the near future.
A/N: Ah, another chapter at the end of the month! That usually meant that this is my favourite chapter of the month, and that is for good reason. Oh, and this chapter means that half of ARR is uploaded!
Review responses!
Grey: Yeah, that was not a particularly good chapter, but I am glad you liked some parts of it. I don't intend to develop Arn too hastily - he doesn't appear so often, and his real impact needs time to set up. I am glad you liked Corrado's 'entrance' (he appeared in Under the Weight). Standing up to Lorelei is something only he could do... About Vega and Morag, you will see them more and more often. And yes, Somerled, Amalrik and the stoat seem like the stereotypical 'two woodlanders and a vermin' comedy show. Oh, and about vermin having cool toys? Well, the problem is more with Somerled compared to Conjuration, but he doesn't know that. ;)
Sebias: I kinda see why you don't envy Thordan... imagine everyone in the Western Hemisphere talking things about you. Ugh. The Valeran League is not designed to be a mafia group, despite the heavy usage of Italian references. They are a reference to the Lombard League in the 13th century. Oh, and Guido is legendary because he defied King Thordan and somehow won. Corrado! Everyone likes him! Time for Lorelei to be brought down a peg, hmm? And Arn! Woohoo! Though he only has a large role in Book III... Yeah the servants... Somerled couldn't care less though, because he's Somerled.
I originally wanted to put an Alfyn and Egil segment at the beginning, before Erlend and Arbert, but that quickly cut the pacing between two very serious moments, so I decided to add another grim segment in. Don't worry, you'll see A and E soon.
The Erlend segment was the closest thing to the original Jade TeaLeaf works I can ever hope to write. Dark setting, character focus on a single beast, and a short but simple fight scene. I'm rather proud of it, though nothing I can ever write can match her and her 7000-word long chapters.
Arbert's segment is full of visions, hmm? You can probably guess the badgers giving them out. They're all canon Badger Lords and Badger Ladies!
Chapter 26 (Ever Upwards) will be up on 2/3 October!
P.S. THANK YOU EVERYONE FOR THE 90 REVIEWS!