A/N: Finally back from rest!
Now let's see these responses... golly, this is a lot.
Sebias 30: Yep. Nobeast wants the Parman throne - Thordan Skyward got lucky by living to the ripe old age of sixty. Corrado doesn't want the crown because he's not concerned with it, but probably also beacuse of his quasi-filial relationship with Niels. I mean, who else raised him while Lorelei was with Erlend? Erlend's death was peaceful, yes. Hope he comes back in some form - maybe he gets pulled back by Old Thordan? Haha! Fandaniel spanking Isangrim? That would be a sight. And yes. 'lucky' Thordan.
Grey 32: Yep. Long one. I've never said that Emetselk was not Thordan in 'Intertwined'. Never. Glad you guessed it. I suppose last chapter was where my fic starts ripping itself apart from Jade's work as well as the Redwall canon. It's good that you liked my writing - action was never a strong suit of mine, and without Keldor, everything would be cringy. Hence, all the telling and lack of showing. Someday I would provide some insight of power levelling (though today is not this day). Oh, and thank you for being with me for two whole books. It was an unforgettable experience.
Sebias 31: King in a Barrel! Thordan is never going to live this down - but he gets an awesome moment, so no harm done, I guess.
Sebias 32: I broke the 100K limit! This was not what I intended to do, but I'll take it! And yes, it IS fun cooking up theories. I can only say that I ended up ending Book II with a nuclear blast. After all, this is not typical Redwall fare, but I guess political intrigue and dysfunctional (woodlander) families are not either. I'm glad that you encouraged me to write on that March morning, and I cannot thank you enough for that.
Keva 31: Thanks! Even butt-monkeys deserve to win once in a while - Isangrim may be too smug for his own good, but he is smug for a reason.
Now, the chapter begins. Though Book III probably won't match Book II, let nobeast say that I did not try!
Book III: The Instruments of Deliverance
Breaking Boundaries
KURBURG, KINGDOM OF PARMA
Bertil had never seen such pomp and finery ever in his life, so he could say that he was lucky enough to guard Lord Sverker in his grand-uncle's coronation.
Twoscore and three beasts have worn this crown before, woodlanders all of them, and Niels had been the eighth consecutive otter to do so.
Of course, the creature himself was kneeling still, yet exhausted after a night of sleepless vigil. But every crown has its price, and if Bertil was asked, he would stay clear from one.
The officiator (or crowner, as Sverker put it for the less educated Bertil) was always another elector of the same species, or the Grandmaster of the Shieldbrothers if the crowned was not a mouse, otter or squirrel. In this case, Queen Lorelei was supposed to back from Taralis, but she was nowhere to be seen.
If the realms were in more peaceful days, other kings would have come to this magnificent ceremony, or the merrymaking immediately afterwards. The Old Parmans have always claimed to be rulers of the entire world, the title bestowed upon them by Great Seasons, but their ever-growing list of conquests ended three hundred seasons ago - until Thordan the Second, called Wonder of the World, Astrologer, Hellspawn, and many other names, but he earned all of them by his numerous deeds. But in the end, he barely held on to everything he had won, and almost lost everything he was born with the process. "All great beasts," Lord Sverker said to Bertil once, "are buried in better tombs, but they die all the same."
Grandmaster Otto acted as Lorelei's stand-in in the meantime, though he was still himself, and not some noble who was too much like his father - Otto was a merry sort, compared to Lord Canute's endless raging.
"Do you promise to defend the kingdom?" The nephew cried out to the silent halls of Kurburg shrine, kings on previous stained glass windows looking on with approval. Four caught Sverker's eyes, and Bertil's own followed. Henrik Skyward with all his stern severity and his younger brother Radulf's graciousness and generosity. On their opposite was King Otto Crestworth, Niels' father, whose eyes revealed his Hellgates-bent determination and pride.
The fourth king had all these qualities, and was king of Parma for longer than the previous three combined. A mere boy when he received the Garlean throne, and a teenager as young as Sverker when the Parman crown was offered to him, Thordan the Second was the epitome of luck and determination combined in the face of adversity. Had he arrived in this hall exactly three hours late, the Valnainer-raised King Otto would have kept his crown atop his head til the day of his death.
Not that anybeast wanted that, of course. Thordan was a reformist and an expansionist rolled into one - he enforced the Pragmatic Sanction on all Parman territory, ensuring Agnatic-Cognatic Succession Law will be used in all noble titles in the realm, without which his daughter and many other noblemaids could not have inherited anything in Otharn. His passed laws that allowed for vermin to live normally within city walls, and even allowed them to join his ever-growing army. Learning thrived under his rule, as the king himself pioneered the wave of desire for knowledge, which was passed on to his successor. He even enforced education on the commoners - and many like Bertil himself benefited from it. Yet he was also terrifying while he brought awe, like thunder descending from the sky. A bloody-pawed tyrant who deprived lords of their so-called Heavens-granted territories and rights he was called, and he crushed all of his rebellious vassals with cruelty and brutality, with the exception with the Ilsadian mouse.
It was no wonder that even his enemies praised him, though only after his passing.
"I do." Niels normally gentle, but now forceful voice snapped Bertil back from his thoughts.
"Do you swear to maintain the laws of the kingdom?"
Before Bertil could even wonder if the uncrowned king would attempt to undo everything his predecessor have done, another "I do" rang out.
The alb-cloaked Otto Crestworth asked his last question. "Do you give your oath to maintain justice throughout your realm?"
"I do."
"Then bless, O Great Seasons, this king, whom you have chosen and the Otharnic creatures had given their approval!" The taller otter cried out, and in seconds the king had his robes put on for him. Bertil pitied the king. He never wanted the office, but family was important, and there was no better beast to take the job, save the disinterested grandsons of Thordan Skyward.
In a way, Niels was exactly like Thordan Swalestrom. One had raised the other, after all.
Electors started offering more and more to the king. "Receive this sword…" "Receive this ring of royal dignity…" "Receive this rod of royal dignity…"
Then finally comes the crown.
"Receive the regal crown of our own make, and reign as justly as previous kings had done."
Niels did the former, and if Bertil was lucky, Niels will do the latter.
GYSTRA, KINGDOM OF SOUTHSWARD
"That was a good session, Sir Arrioph?" Halric smiled at his teacher as he finally put down his wooden imitation of a rapier.
"Yes, boy." Denebas may have been quite rusty after having practised with nobody but his guards for so long, but the best way to learn is to teach. The mouse in front of him may have been but five seasons younger than him, but he clearly had a desire to learn, and his parents paid well - as nobles or, in this case, rich merchants often do.
"So do I have homework or prep for the following week?" The blue-eyed mouse pup was clearly hardworking, Denebas gave him that. Of all his students, on both the Southard and Dravain banks of the Udso, he had the most potential.
"Just practise Wading for the week." Denebas sheathed his wooden sword and turned to leave. Finding Bodvar Waycaster had been hard without his team, and he will call them back when he had a lead or when Berstraat was rebuilt completely. The former would take much longer than the latter though.
"Wading?" Halric asked. "I thought it would leave you open to an enemy strike?" It was true. Standing on one footpaw and bringing one's blade up was dangerous in actual combat - it can only be used when the enemy moves incorrectly, leaving him open as well.
"Well, you need to practice balance, Hal." Denebas propped up his feather hat - a piece of attire that he had brought here from all the way from Burelas. "What better way to do so than to stand on one leg?"
"Anyways, thank you, sir." Arrioph may have been a poor disguise, but 'he' did his job.
"You are most welcome!" Slinging his pack over his back, they grey squirrel strolled to his next customer on the Dravain side of the river.
If only all Southards and Trielians are as good as you, would there still be war?
KALDOS, LORDSHIP OF KALDOS, KINGDOM OF DRAVANIA
The walls of Kaldos have been built more sturdily since they last saw action.
Becker's father, Lord Gavin Swalestrom, had propped this structure up after Triel had gained the enmity of King Otto Crestworth, dragging Southsward into the possibility of being invaded by the Parmans. As Kaldos lay just across Raevsvakt from just across the Sound, which had been taken by Doman forces by diplomacy, the city had to be fortified.
Erlend his younger son had made this city into Dravania's capital after Becker had taken Hildrinn for himself, and for once Becker had to agree with his brother. After all, if Becker was not too busy besieging the city, he would have come here to enjoy the views and foodstuffs that this place had so much to offer.
Parley always came on within three hours of siege, and Gustav Strandsor was always eager to talk - him being one of the few beasts who can outtalk Becker. Alfyn Stalwart came with him, and Becker could count himself lucky that his own niece shied herself away from view. She would need some discipline after the letter and all that.
Of course, being both talkative, friendly otter stereotypes, they had no idea what to do once they stood across each other, Becker at the castle's bottom and Gustav on the walls.
"Hello!" Becker finally hollered at the Dravanian otterlord, who was merely a speck on the enclosure of stone.
Lord Strandsor was obviously in the mood to pretend that Becker was some random knight with some less-than-random army. "Who in Great Seasons are you?"
Becker rolled his eyes. "I am Lord Skipper Becker Swalestrom of the Southsward Otterguard! In whose name are you holding this castle?'
Strandsor smiled - one to rival Becker's own grin. "This is the legitimate property of my one and only master, King Thordan of Dravania!"
King Thordan? The boy's in my paws now! Or did he get assertive before we got him? No. Phronesis would have told me about it. Gustav, you sly fox…
"Do you have orders from your king to hold it in his name? If not-"
Becker was interrupted by a loud voice booming from the ramparts. Alfyn Stalwart. "Well, I do not think that he will be very keen on the idea that you intend to tear down what he intended to build for this whole month!"
"Well, can you just let us in? We have no intention of massacring every single citizen within your gates at all." Well, not unless you resist again.
"Well, no." Gustav swept away Becker's offer with a swipe of his paw. "You Southards cannot expect me to trust you again, having carried away King Thordan from right under our noses! You can be letting him sleep on silk for all I care, but he belongs to Dravania and her folk, you salty shameless seawater-dwelling sardine!"
That is one great insult I've never heard about before...
Lord Rueford stepped up to speak. "Then what are you doing here in Kaldos? This is Southard territory!" To be honest, with both sides fighting for their own freedoms, this is a war with no just side - no right thing to do.
"Mind your own business, conniving compliant collaborator of a kidnapper of kin!" Alfyn screamed at the lord.
"Very well." It always has to come to violence and death, does it? "If you shall not relinquish your control over the city and its population, then I have every reason to take it by force!"
A third voice suddenly rang out from behind the walls. "We are not afraid of you!" Another mustelid's head poked out from the ramparts, though this one was distinctly verminous. "Go and boil your bottom, so-called Becker Lord!" The weasel had made the old Dravain mistake of placing titles last. "Foul winds blew you here, and even fouler winds shall blow you back, you and all your Southard k-nights!" The weasel took care to pronounce the 'k', but what can some vermin from nowhere say but random gibberish?
"What a strange beast!" Lord Lorents remarked, clearly displaying the same shock and incredulousness on Becker's face.
But Becker had enough of the tall otter and the vermin. Pointing at Gustav, he raged. "Now look here, my good lord-"
"I care not of what you think, you wishy-washy watermelon-selling window-dressing wetter of beds!" Sigrun. Blasted Sigrun. "The only reason I didn't insult you mother is that she's my grandmother, but I guess my own mother had better luck than her, seeing the teeny-brained bottom-wiper that you are!"
"Enough!" Becker fumed! "To Hellgates with all of you! By the will of Great Seasons, I pray that I may see you all dead before I go to my own grave!"
He swallowed a deep breath and managed to cover his own anger with an eerie calm. "Lorents, fetch the catapults!"
"But they have not been made yet! Our engineers are working on them!"
Becker groaned as the figures behind the wall laughed their hearts out. More wine would not help him crush the city, but it would help with grief.
GOROI, BALSAMU
Losing the strait was a disaster, but losing Godred Swalestrom was a calamity.
The otterking had been blown off a boat (or was pushed or knocked overboard), and his decapitated body, still in full armour, lay there on the beach, his head lying but a few inches away from the rest of him.
That meant that victory was not an option for Lord Guido.
The emissary that had came to Goroi was Orlando or Garlesca, half-brother of the beast who had smashed the mouse's fleet. Unlike his much more active brother, this Truetide was almost completely sedentary, and was one of the few Ilsadians to openly ally with the Parman outsiders - those who Guido had termed invaders.
The otter had married the brother of the Steward of Thavnair (the backwater duchy that King Thordan had seen fit to inherit but neglect to rule), who was inconveniently one of Queen Lorelei's second cousins. Though he is obviously to die without legitimate issue , given his cold relationship with his wife, that meant that Corrado, Thordan's grandson, was in line to inherit even more territories.
That will not do.
"Tell me, Duke Orlando, what terms do the Parmans offer?" The otter was a calm and patient beast, and Guido would do well to do the same, despite his personal dislike of the collaborator.
"Queen Lorelei would like to request your full and complete surrender, to disband your league of cities, and to demolish any fort you hold that she sees fit."
"These terms are quite harsh." Guido remarked as his expression turned pinched without himself knowing it. He contemplated hiding it, but this otter needs to know his displeasure.
"You did get your navy smashed to pieces, alongside the army on which you placed on it." Orlando rubbed a few claws together, as if Guido needed to be reminded.
"Well, on whose authority to you submit this proposal?" Guido changed the subject.
"On the Queen of Garlesca's, Your Lordship."
"That is your problem." Lord Guido smiled like a wolverine happening upon a mouse. "I am at war with the High Kingdom Parma, and not with any of its vassals - not as a main belligerent, anyway." His grin muted into a mere smile that the otterduke would need even more unsettling. "You need a true king to talk to me like that. A king like Thordan Skyward, and not his daughter who is not worthy to take on a tenth of his skill!"
Duke Orlando seemed to have lost all control of the situation - and there was no Oliphant to blow, unlike his legendary ancestor. "As you wish."
Then he fled with his rudder betwixt his hindpaws while Guido laughed his heart out. The mouselord laughed so hard that tears flowed from his eyes as if they were waterfalls, but he was not aware of the stream.
DALAGAB, THE LIGHTNINGSHARD
"So this is your home now, Father?" Lorelei paced around the halls of the Aetherochemical Research Facility.
The whole place was lit up by thin blue lights, brighter than flames, but they seem to release no heat at all. Lorelei's father had told her and her foxes that these 'diodes' are powered by the power of lightning, which beasts have themselves made out of nowhere.
Little insect-like creatures walked around, walked around patrolling corridors, and they almost knocked Hersent unconscious when she ran over to take a look. Emetselk said that they were 'Arcane' - creatures summoned by Conjuration. They had a basic semblance of intelligence, though the otter laughed when questioned if they can be relied on.
Thordan, or Emetselk as he called himself, lead them to a nice little sitting room with white walls and an armchair, while two figures look silently on, as if they were asleep, but with eyes opened.
One was a pine marten, a female, evidently. She was quite beautiful (unlike Hersent or Lorelei herself), and King Thordan would have made her one of his mistresses if he was still Thordan.
The other was a hare. Tall and lanky, he would have made a nice little commander of the Wide Patrol or something up north. But then, he seemed to be a bit too thin to take up the job.
"Welcome back to the facility, Emmeroloth." The beast who stubbornly called himself Emetselk was still as chatty his he had been in his previous life. "I trust you have made our guests comfortable. Isangrim had never made himself a servant willingly, but everything is an exception with deadbeasts walking around as if they were alive.
"So you really are my father, yes?" Lorelei had many questions, but this was a good place to start. "You seem more livelier than usual - in both senses of the word."
"Ah, you see that my new body has a clear resemblance to my earlier self." The otter in white robes embraced Conjuration, and soon a weird device flew into his paw. A button was pressed, and tea came flowing into his cup.
"New body?" The otterqueen should have expected that her questions to her father would have led to even more doubts.
"You may have noticed that this world has better technology than ours, so I Pressured a few scientists to make a backup body, manufactured from 'stem cells' or something like that, taken from my own form. It is only a matter of time when I perished, but my soul managed to traverse the boundaries between worlds and arrive into my own body.
Seeing his shocked guests' looks, he attempted to summarise what has happened to him.
"So basically I'm just controlling my own corpse."
"Oh," said Hersent the vixen. 'Oh' - what a stupid thing to say!
But there was nothing else to say. Lorelei may have been Emetselk's daughter, but it is apparent that she really knew nothing about him."
"See these two bodies here?" Emetselk pointed at the woodlander and vermin floating in the liquid tanks, a tube connecting their snouts to the outside world - for air, apparently.
"The hare's your husband, who has yet to settle here, and the marten?" The otter in front of Lorelei made a gagging noise. "The less said about her, the better."
"And the stoat?" Lorelei asked before she could control herself. The beast himself stood up and walked towards Lorelei and Isangrim, or Emmeroloth as her father called him.
"As I recall, you slapped Thordan Swalestrom in the face, did you?"
"Yes-" She could do nothing when his open paw collided with her face. The other side of her muzzle felt the impact as well - the stoat had done the same to the also unsuspecting Isangrim.
Lorelei staggered backwards as the black stoat opened his mouth."Sigurd Swalestrom here, no longer a woodlander. Forgive me this outburst, but if you hurt my brother once more, you would no longer have a chance to do so a third time."
A/N: I hope you liked Book II, and I hope to do much, much better with Book III. There is little chance that there will even be a Book IV, so just wait for the sequel, which does exist!
Chapter 34 (Forever Lost) will be up on 13/14 November!