75. Converging Fates.

When Ewalt woke up, he felt himself better than he had any right to feel after the travails of the last few days. Bruises, scratches and his left wrist sent signals of dull pain, but nothing he could not ignore. The morning, no, more like the midday, was bright and warm, and the bed in which he found himself was soft and cozy. He did not recognize the room, but that was unsurprising. After getting up from the bed and putting on the simple but clean dress he found on the bedside table, Ewalt looked from the narrow window, and discovered, that he was high in one of the castle towers. From here the view on the blue lake behind the Castle Floret opened, and on the green forest behind it, the beautiful land unscarred by war, not visibly at least.

He heard quiet steps outside and reflexively looked to check where his weapons were – felt worse than naked for a moment upon predictably seeing nothing like them in the room – but of course, no ambush could be expected here, among the friends, so he remained in place. The door opened, and Weitla looked into the room.

"Good morning, Brother." She checked if anybeast was in the corridor, stepped in, closed the door behind her and stopped there, not coming closer. "Should I still call you "Ewalt"?"

Ewalt shrugged. "I guess among living only you and I know the name our parents gave me… I've called myself Ewalt for so long, that hearing that name may get me confused from time to time. The last night I dropped asleep where I sat before we had a chance to talk face to face, didn't I, Weitla?"

The female mouse nodded silently. Ewalt stepped closer to her. "I'm not sure if thanked you for saving our lives. So, thanks. Did Smalltooth thank you, by the way?"

"The stoat? Yeah, he did." Weitla seemed to be reluctant to look Ewalt in the face.

Ewalt paused, his paw touching his torn ear, before continuing. "I'm not a beast who's smooth with words, Weitla. Maybe I was as a youngster, but not anymore. What can I say? I'm sorry. I'm sorry for not protecting you and everybeast else. I don't know how you survived, I thought the entire tribe save for me was dead, but I should have been the one saving you."

Weitla shook her head. "I knew that a mouse of our tribe still lived as Ewalt the Ghost, yet I feared for my life too much to escape on one of the nights when Sea Princess was berthed at Ergaph. You fought alone for seasons upon seasons and killed many beasts bigger and stronger than you, and I did nothing to take revenge for our family. Storms and sharks, for all these seasons, the last night was the first time I did something good and worthy of being your…"

Ewalt made another two steps forwards, and put his paw on Weitla's shoulder. "And I don't care. The best thing you did for me is staying alive, Weitla, my beloved sister. I would have been happy just to see you alive, even if you detested and accused me, and now I'm so happy there are no words for that!"

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After checking to see whether Smalltooth, and the vixen, Silverbrush, are all right, Ewalt would have preferred to spend all the day with Weitla. But the war was not waiting for him, as summons from the old squirrel that ruled the castle soon attested.

In the bright light of day Elmsfort looked older and obviously unwell. Ewalt thought that the old squirrel must be suffering from some painful illness, or wounds that refused to heal. But Elmsfort's voice remained firm.

"I believe I did not properly welcome you to Castle Floret yet, Ewalt. If half of what your companions said is true, having a hero like you within our walls is both a honor and a blessing in the time like this. Are you feeling well?"

Ewalt shrugged. "Thanks for your praise. I can fight, if you give me weapons, but as for something truly daring, like sneaking through the vermin camp, I'd prefer to have a few days of rest first."

"I fear you won't get a few days. We, beasts of Southsward, don't have much in the way of allies among forest birds. Crows, magpies and rooks have long ruled our canopies and skies, chasing off the friendlier avians, but they rarely pestered us, so both we and them were content to stay away from each other for many generations. Only a few of them occasionally carry news for us in exchange for food. This morning they brought the latest news about King Gwynfren and his army."

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Aldwin liked the speed with which the woodlander army marched through the forested country. The cripple King, or his otter advisor, managed their undertrained throng better than Aldwin initially feared. Squirrels with bows, javelins and spears, hedgehogs carrying axes, clubs and long-hafted flails, and remaining warrior otters – a few survivors, a few newly arrived borderlanders, a few youngsters who took up arms to avenge their parents – formed the vanguard. Long lines of mice, voles, moles, and other smaller, weaker beasts, followed them through the forest paths. They seemed to have more confidence than Aldwin felt, quite a few singing heartily whatever marching songs they could remember. Weather too was about right, with no more rain, and heat that only became stifling after midday of the last day. Exhaustion and illness took only a few beasts out of the marching army. And luck was with Aldwin himself too, as wounds he took in the last scrap were healing better than he feared. They were not going to make him more handsome, sure, but at least he was not going to miss the decisive battle thanks to them.

So, Aldwin put his doubts aside as he turned towards the remaining Gallopers. "Let's go, chaps and chapesses. It's time for us to make sure than no blinkin' vermin returns to their filthy camp with news of our approach."

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At early evening the Southsward army stopped to give tired creatures a few hours of rest before the final march and assault. The Gallopers and other scouts could not spot any roving vermin bands or long-ranging patrols, so this was deemed safe.

Suran Longspear could only thank fates inwardly. His injured footpaw was not hurting too badly, but he still felt it, and nowadays hauling around arms and heavy chainmail for an entire hot day would have tired him out even without that. He refused to show any signs of weakness, but he was grateful for a chance to rest before the battle. He fell asleep almost immediately after gulping down the modest dinner of bread and smoked fish. At least age did not rob him of the ability to sleep whenever he had a chance to.

When Suran woke up, he found Kethra cuddling up to him, both of their cloaks protecting them from night's cold. Judging by whatever he could see of the star-speckled sky through the dark canopies above, there was perhaps still some time to sleep, but he felt rested enough already. Moss under him was soft and dry, Kethra was warm, night air was cold, so Suran felt no desire to rise, and didn't. But as he moved slightly to make himself more comfortable, Kethra woke up.

"Suran?"

"Mmmm?"

"Nothing." Kethra seemed to be in no haste to rise as well. She was silent for a minute, and then asked. "How's your footpaw?"

"Not going to kill me." Suran hesitated for a time, before saying. "Can I ask you for a favor? After all, I saved your life. More times than you saved mine, you know."

Kethra sighed, and pressed herself tighter to him. "Methinks you sound like a fox you are, but ask away."

"If you meet Rugger in battle, seek some other foe. Vulpuz' willing, we'll settle our quarrel tonight, me and him, one on one."

"Thunder and blood, Suran," Kethra's voice was quiet, contrary to her words, "do you want to get better of your fate by dying against him?"

Suran chuckled. "Naaah. He's the one foe who will never change his mind about gutting me, you know. I want to use my fate as a shield so I can kill the bastard."

"Why you even hate each other so much? You never told any of us."

Suran tried to look around without sitting up. Who knew, maybe Rowanbloom, or Selvathy weren't asleep either, or maybe some other woodlander was listening. Then he decided it doesn't matter. "Long seasons ago, when I was young enough to have big hopes and old enough to be called a corsair of experience, fortunes and winds brought me and a few more sea-rovers to a small island in the eastern sea. I liked it there – nice weather, good forests, plenty of food, and the island was ruled by a tribe of black foxes, so plenty of vixens too. I decided to try my paw at being a warlord. It went quite nicely, you know, until it didn't. Not sure if I've killed not enough foxes, or I've killed too many, but one night the tribe turned on us as one. I guess I'm just not cut out to rule, after all. I managed to escape the island with my life. When I first met Rugger on Ergaph and saw the color of his fur, I thought right away that he may be from that island, and that he may be out to take revenge on me, for his father or somebeast else, who knows. He said that he never even heard my name before, but you know, foxes lie. Well, not me right now, of course. But Rugger surely lied, because from the beginning he only waited for a chance to bring me down."

Suran paused. Kethra shifted, letting her head resting on his shoulder. For no reason he could explain Suran decided to tell the rest of his story. Well, almost all of the rest. "When Rugger and Kunas' soldiers tried to kill me and failed, a certain vixen died. That vixen, Akshai, was the one who sewn this cloak for me," Suran wiggled his paw to make the old, faded, patched cloak that covered him as a blanket now, move. "You can say that Rugger got more than even with me, for Akshai was carrying my cubs at the time. But, Vulpuz sees, he doesn't seem to be satisfied. Long story short, this quarrel will end when one of us rips out the other's heart. He's the sort to eat mine raw too, I'd rather throw his to ants and flies with the rest."

Kethra moved her paw across Suran's cloak. "Never thought you can be this, how they say, sentimental…"

Suran used his first chance to drop the theme, and that chance was a strange sound he heard. He rose on his elbow to look at Rowanbloom and Selvathy, both of whom were looking at him and Kethra from their own improvised beds, instead of sleeping.

"And who asked you to listen?"

"We could not help," Rowanbloom answered seriously. "You did not bother to keep your voice low that much."

Suran did not really feel angry at them, but he growled for a bit anyway.

"Oh come on, you probably wanted us to hear your story," Selvathy spoke.

Suran was not sure whether a hint of suspicion in Selvathy's voice, or the fact that she was right to suspect him of not being entirely honest made him feel real rage. He sat sharply. "Shouldn't have wasted my breath on it. I want to kill Rugger and that's that. I also want to save my friend Ewalt, if he's still alive, and even that little runt Smalltooth, because Ewalt is fond of him. But I will say: Rugger comes first. If you see me and him meeting in battle, just go around us and try to find Ewalt, and for seasons' sake, don't you dare to fight the black fox on your own, do you understand, otter? And you, Kethra, will you do me the favor I asked for?"

Kethra by that time sat as well. "Sure. Just… Suran, prophecy or not, don't try to get yourself killed, all right?"

Suran chuckled. "All my life I've tried to get other beasts killed whenever I went to battle, and now I'm too old to change my habits."

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Captain Aldwin gave his hares a chance to get some sleep, but did not allow any to himself. He stopped getting nervous before battles many seasons ago, but tonight he felt strange tension that made him restless. Was some sort of sixth feeling warning him of danger? No matter how many times he circled the camp, he couldn't find any traces of vermin presence. And none of the sentries detected anything suspicious, either.

When returned to the Gallopers' small campsite, he found that only Espadron, who always used any chance to catch a nap, no matter how close to the enemy, was sleeping. Besides him, Sovna and Tesak were here, sitting below a tree and quietly talking about something, while the rest appeared absent for the moment. To Aldwin's satisfaction, Tesak turned to look at Aldwin's direction before he was thirty paces away.

"Time to move out, Captain?" Tesak asked when Aldwin walked up to them.

Aldwin looked at the sky and answered quietly. "You know where the rest went?"

Tesak nodded. "Yeah."

"I'll go see the young King. You can start arming yourself. Hey, Sergeant, wake up, or you'd miss the whole jolly battle!"

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Sovna looked at Aldwin's back, as he walked away. "He sounds as if we had a feast ahead of us, not a blinking battle."

"You sound as if you still mislike our brave Captain." Tesak leaned closer to her and whispered right into her ear: "Why, when you speak of Aldwin, a beast may think you sound like a haremaid jilted."

Sovna tried to elbow him, but Tesak hopped aside just in time, sniggering.

"And you too, Tesak! Seasons know how many of us will see the sunrise, and you still crack your stupid jokes."

"Blinkin' beats your doom and gloom."

Sovna only clenched her jaws and huffed, trying to show Tesak that his words were entirely inappropriate. Tesak picked his backpack and started ruffling through it. "Oh come on, Sovna, everybeast who had watched you in a scrap once can tell that you love yourself some bally good battle, why be Sovna the Sourface when we're about to face a battle worthy of legends?"

Sovna could not contain her anger. "Just a few days ago, I nearly killed a living creature who was on the ground begging for mercy, and then I helped bury one of your own friends, and you're telling me to let it all go and enjoy the fighting?"

Instead of answering, Tesak threw something he produced from the backpack at her, and she caught the object on reflex. That was a small bag.

"Before a big battle, warriors are supposed to don their best clothes and scoff all the best food, but alack and alas, the best food I have is humble honeyed chestnuts. Sparth in your place would already have been stuffin' them down, instead of lookin' at me. He had plenty and more chances to live differently, Sparth, I mean, whether he wanted to live honestly or not. Yet he chose to march and run with us, and I'd bet my best knife against a rusty spoon that he still would have chosen the same even if he knew for sure that he won't live to become an old grumbler. And you, well, well. If not for you, my dear, disliking to breathe the same air as Captain, I'd say too much of his kindness rubbed off you. None of his common sense, though. Feelin' bad just because you didn't even kill a foebeast, who tried to carve you up not a second ago, tosh and nonsense, nonsense, I say!"

Sergeant Espadron, who, of course, already woke up and now was checking his weapons, mumbled something unintelligible, but vaguely approving under his nose, upon hearing this.

Sovna sat on a tree root and remained silent for a minute, looking away and occupying herself by munching on chestnuts. Her, having the same feelings as Aldwin? Tesak, perhaps, misinterpreted her pause. He came to sit next to her, with his own snack. "Look, pretty-ears, do you think you're the flippin' first, or even the thousandth Patroller who likes her work? War and fighting are work after all, yeah, hard, scary, punishing, back-breaking, and, like any work, best done by beasts who enjoy what they do. We, hares of the Long Patrol are called "perilous", not "peace-loving" after all."

"I just… look, I don't know, Tesak. Thanks for your words and everything, but talking about… important things is not something I'm good at. Not with the battle of all battle right before us."

"I've noticed, Sovna," Tesak embraced her by the shoulders with one paw. "Then shall we talk about important things, these important things and more, after the battle? Promise?"

"Promise."

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As the woodlander army was gearing up and trying to order itself for the final march into battle, Rowanbloom found her father near Gwynfren's tent.

"Good morning. Strange to see you armed," Belk referred to the fact that she was carrying the Salamandastron crossbow on her shoulder. Belk himself already donned the bright green tunic given to him by Gwynfren, and the old Southsward chainmail. Instead of Sword of Martin, he now carried a broad-bladed spear.

"I'm here to ask you to join us, the Gallopers and whatever is left of our small troop, in battle."

"King Gwynfren and Eskil already asked me to remain with them. And to be honest, I would be no great gift to Aldwin and his warriors now. But you sound like you intend to go into battle herself."

"Why shouldn't I? Will anybeast need a healer if we lose?" Rowanbloom sounded a somewhat more belligerently than she intended. "My… my friends may still be prisoners in the vermin camp, I want to do whatever I can to help."

Belk appeared thoughtful, inclining his head to one side and then the other to look at Rowanbloom from different angles. "I cannot order you around now, daughter of mine, that I unfortunately can't do. So I will just say to you this: if you want to do whatever you can to help, stay back, and prepare to patch the wounded. If you want to do whatever you can to feel like you're helping, then go ahead, charge into battle, pay no thoughts to those beasts who will die if we win, but you will not be there to help them, because you exposed yourself to spears and arrows. Have you even trained to shoot and reload this… contraption?"

For a moment it seemed like Rowanbloom is fuming with anger. She took several deep breaths, but then she shook her head. "No, not much. You know that Captain Aldwin said me about the same thing, but more politely? I guess you're right. It's just…"

Belk smiled slightly. "Don't worry too much ahead of time. We know that your friends were taken alive, we found no carcasses where the retreating snowlanders camped, except for their own dead, and if what I heard about Ewalt is true, he is not a beast to let himself be killed, if given half a chance."