20
The pages of Alagadda's chronicle composed a sloppy pile on Laramie's desk. The ink on the top page had hardly dried before Laramie added the next. Her paw scratched at the parchment with reckless abandon, her wrist sore. She allowed her penmanship to grow sloppy, letters to lose form in favor of speed. She didn't even think about what she was writing anymore.
Alagadda continued to narrate. Her tale was exhaustive, endless, prone to digression. As she paced back and forth across the library, sweeping her paws through the air to gesture moments of great magnificence, she described events that jumbled together seemingly at random. From her miserable babehood as one of the lowliest rank in a northern horde to her conquests against the Long Patrol and the Guosim to an oddly detailed account of her friendship with the archer Vellis, Alagadda showed no signs of even slowing. Occasionally, she had Jareck reread patches of narrative she believed exceptionally poignant.
Roane and Iredell snored in a corner. Jareck sat on one of the big, warm armchairs, curled up with one of the older chronicles—he had finished the Taggerung story and graduated to the Pearls of Lutra. Vellis remained by the window, silent. Alagadda's voice had long since become a drone in the background.
"Then I figgered. Well, I got the Guosim in my pocket, followin' my ev'ry whim. The platoon Salamandastron sent to deal with me I dealt with instead. The next logical step's Redwall. Oh, Redwall, that horror story fills the imagination of ev'ry young weasel. Conredd and Jareck advised against it, but the horde was clamorin' for it, tastin' the blood in the water. I knew I needed to be smart about it. Needed to wipe out the Abbey's immediate allies afore I made a move. So I went for the otter clans around Mossflower. Allus big allies of Redwall, the otters. Odd, too, considerin' they're glorified vermin themselves. Got the fangs an' everythin'. Even look like weasels, bigger perhaps, an' with rudders, but similar. An' yet there they are on the right side a history an' here I am out in the cold. So I went to this otter chieftain. The Skipper, they calls him—"
Laramie glanced up from her writing. Her sister Sully's friend, Fentress, was the daughter of the late Skipper, who had fled to Redwall after her clan was wiped out. Alagadda had been behind that, too?
Her paw stopped scratching the parchment. Alagadda had stopped talking. In fact, she had fallen asleep, mid-sentence, without even a yawn. Laramie didn't believe it, but sure enough, there Alagadda was, propped against a bookshelf, eyes closed, snoring.
Laramie yawned herself, wondering how long she had written without stop. Hours. More than she had ever done on the job, even during the highest flurries of inspiration. She would take the time to get some rest as well…
No, wait. She looked up, looked around the room. Jareck engrossed in his book. Vellis by the window. Neither watching her.
With one paw she started writing again, gibberish, just so the sound of her quill would remain in both of Alagadda's captain's heads. No reason to suspect anything, no reason to look up from what they were doing. Alagadda had knives strapped all over her. Laramie needed only to grab one from the sleeping weasel and do her in. Fast, a jab to the throat, silent. Maybe then she might be able to do something about Vellis before immediately getting slain herself. But anything beyond Alagadda's death were only tentative wisps to her. Now was the time to bring Alagadda down.
Her other paw stretched through the open air, reaching toward one of the knives. It was held in its sheath only by a small button, the kind that could be undone with one quick motion. Laramie rehearsed the action in her head. Open the sheath. Take the knife. Plunge it into Alagadda's neck. Spill her blood.
With her paw hanging in the void, she took one last glance over her shoulder.
Vellis had drawn her bow and had an arrow aimed at her. She did not speak. Laramie did not speak. She only held her paws up to signify she had no intention of following through on her little gambit. Vellis kept the bowstring taut, an apathetic glaze in her features. But she did not fire.
Laramie placed the quill in the inkwell and rose slowly from her seat, paws still raised. Vellis followed her as she made calculated, quiet steps across the library, motions that could mean no ill well to anybeast. Vellis only lowered her bow when Laramie plopped down in a cushioned seat near Jareck, who had noticed nothing the entire time.
The archer returned to stare back out the window. When Laramie was certain she was no longer paying attention to her, she caught Jareck's attention with a whisper.
"What's her story. With the bow."
Jareck did not look up from his book. "Oh, Vellis. Alagadda's best mate, y'know. Inseparable. You'd wager they're sisters, 'cept you'd lose the wager."
"I heard all that from Alagadda. I mean what's with the tough an' silent act?"
"That's how bowbeasts is," said Jareck with a shrug. "They sit up in trees all night waitin' fer somebeast to wander by, can't make much noise. Habit-formin'. Soon you forget 'ow t'speak altogether. Now shush, this is the good part."
Laramie glanced over his shoulder to see what page he was on. "Oh please, y'know how it ends. Ublaz gets slain, Redwall has a big feast." She was not normally one for spoiling stories, but she needed to whittle some information from Jareck and had no patience for his antics.
"Oh come now, I ain't daft," said Jareck. "'Tis the minor characters I'm invested in. Take this Romsca, the ferret pirate. I like her, 'ow's she end up?"
"Dead," said Laramie. "Vermin always end up dead. This time'll be no exception."
Jareck frowned, flipping forward a few pages as if he didn't believe her. A tinge of regret struck Laramie for spoiling it—she herself had always like Romsca, who had saved Abbott Durral from the lizards, and who had regretted all her villainy. The first time Laramie heard the passage where she was slain, she had sniffed a little, wondering: Why couldn't she survive? Why couldn't she come back to Redwall and become a goodbeast? It seemed the most tragic death of all. The one fleeting chance for a vermin to receive redemption, crushed.
A wave of melancholy washed over her and she decided against pressing Jareck for information on Alagadda and Vellis. He would simply evade her with riddles and half-truths as always. Besides, she was so tired.
Jareck closed his book and folded his arms. "Well, guess there ain't no more point in readin'." He bit into his coin.
"Sorry," said Laramie. "I'm just a bit upset, is all."
They were silent for a long time.
Eventually she broke the silence. "So, Jareck. That coin. There's no currency like that around here, or up north either."
"Aye," said Jareck, taking the coin from between his fangs and eyeing it. "'Tis southern. Down there they've much more society than these parts."
"So how'd you get the coin."
Jareck grinned. "In me younger seasons. I'm part of a clan, same as any good young vermin my age. Me an' my mates, we're combin' the beaches, seein' what washes up, an' we find a wreck. Big ol' galleon, a fine craft. Lyin' on its side with its hull blown out, guts spillin' out into the sand. Well, 'tis a fine craft fer lootin', 'tis what me mates think. Cold day, rain an' sleet. We're all wrapped in cloaks, 'tis a dark night. We figger, easy pickin'. Can't be nobeast left in such a husk to defend whatever's still in there.
"We was wrong. Whole crew of merchants from the south teemin' right through that thing. In the south, they ain't partial 'gainst vermin as they is up here, so this crew's all sorts a creatures, searats an' ferrets an' mice an' otters. There's as many of them as there is us, an' they're armed as we as well—pirates on these shores, y'know. But we figger, they're merchants, weak creatures. An' they wouldn't still be around 'less they had a bounty in that ship.
"The rain don't let up for three days an' that whole time we wage war on those merchants. Brutal, bloody war. Corpses aplenty on both sides, we used ours to make walls 'round our ditches, defend us from arrers. A beast falls an' we hurl 'im atop the pile afore he even done screechin'. We give as good as we get. 'Tis younger days, we're all valorous beasts, when there's coin in it.
"After three days an' nights in the blisterin' sleet an' snow, with the shores icin' over and our fur stickin' together an' our paws goin' black with frostbite, we make a charge, straight into the belly a' that ship. Beasts go down left an' right, blood on the walls, blood runnin' along the floor, beasts is slippin' in it, gettin' trampled. We rush right up to the top deck a' that ship, cut down every last creature, spare not a single one. There was fifty of us at least when we started this war, an' fifty of them. Now there's none of them an' mebbe six, seven of us. We comb ev'ry last corner of that ship. You know what we find?"
"Nothing," said Laramie.
Jareck held up the coin. "This. An' not a thing else. The merchants had jettisoned all their goods, all their coin just to keep afloat as long as they did. They were fightin' fer pure survival, not to defend a thing. We'd fought too, an' ev'ry time a good ol' mate fell we turned to our fellows still breathin' an' said, 'More shares fer us.' 'Tis what kept us goin', kept us from backin' off. But all we got was this coin."
"So that's the story?" said Laramie.
"Half of it. The second half is, the six of us still left fought each other to the death just for this one coin, even when we knew 'twas the only thing for us. I walked out of that ship the only beast alive, of at least a hunnerd. The sole survivor."
"You… you slew your friends for that one coin?"
Jareck plopped the coin back between his teeth. "They tried to slay me first. 'Tis the life of vermin. Either you die for gain or you die for nothin'. My goal now's t'die for old age."
Laramie said nothing, puzzling over the story. Fatigue had overwhelmed her and her imagination conjured realistic visions of a tilted ship rotting on the beach, of a war unrecorded in history.
From across the room, Vellis snorted. "Yew found that coin on th'ground."
"When I found this coin you wasn't even born yet, so what would you know," said Jareck.
Vellis made no further comment, having already spoken more than Laramie had heard her speak ever in the one comment.
She decided to sleep. The best she could do was rest up and replenish her strength. Then she could think of her next course of action while Alagadda dictated the next chapter in her life.
Before sleep could take hold, however, Vellis spoke again. "Fighting." Laramie cracked open one eye to see what was amiss, but all she saw was Vellis. What she could hear, though, as she strained her ears, was a commotion of some sort. Mostly shouting, none of the clatter of weaponry that would denote a true battle. The sound was distant, from the other side of the Abbey, but she got up and made tepid movement toward the window nonetheless.
The lizards had disappeared from their roosts in the courtyard below, leaving the grass eerily empty save for two dark figures stealing across the landscape in the distance. Laramie squinted her eyes, but she could not make out the figures in any finer detail.
"What's happening," she said.
Jareck had taken a spot beside her, also staring. "That's Conredd," he said, pointing at one of the figures. "You can see that bright red mane from here."
"Aye," said Vellis.
"Conredd," said Laramie, "The fox captain?"
"Now, what might his aim be," asked Jareck. "If he made it out of this flea-bitten wreck, why come back?"
Vellis shrugged.
"Mebbe we oughtta wake the lady," said Jareck.
Vellis slung her bow over her shoulder and climbed out the window, hopping expertly down the jutting masonry to land on the grass below. Quickly and quietly, she moved along the wall, keeping her head low.
"Well," said Jareck. "She tends to do that."
With Vellis gone, slaying Alagadda was a very real possibility. She did not expect Jareck to have the reflexes to stop her if she got close. She made her way toward the desk and Alagadda's sleeping form, leaving Jareck unassuming by the window.
She shuffled her papers around a bit, as if she were looking for something, as if she were doing something perfectly normal and reasonable. Her eyes were welded to the dagger strapped around Alagadda's chest.
Before she could even hold out her paw, Alagadda's eyes snapped open.
"As I was saying, I need to eliminate this Skipper of Otters afore I can make a real attempt on Redwall. So I—Hey, where's Vellis?"
Laramie blinked. She opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out.
"She decided to get some fresh air," said Jareck. "By the way, Conredd's back."
Alagadda rushed to the window, peered out, apparently saw nothing. She issued a harsh bark to the sleeping Roane and Iredell to rouse them. "Get up, y'idiots, things is happenin'!"
The pair yawned, stretched, did little else.
"Something's happenin', I just know it," said Alagadda. Laramie had returned to the window. The two figures from before had disappeared. Vellis had disappeared as well. "I don't like bein' left outta the loop." She stewed a bit, wheeling back and forth aimlessly, as if rallying against the confinements of the library. Finally she snapped her fingers at Jareck. "Get yer things, we're movin' out too."
"Are you sure that's such a good idea, what with your wounds an' all?"
"It's a great idea, better 'n mouldering in here. My wounds're healed already anyway," she said, tugging at her bandages. "Get ready, we're bringin' along the woodlanders. I don't trust 'em by 'emselves."
"Or," said Jareck, "What we could do is, have me'n Iredell stay with the woodlanders an' you go off to figure wot's wot on yer own. I'm sure the lot of us'd just slow y'down anyway, specially that sickly-lookin' squirrel there." He indicated Roane, who had finally roused and was now staring with wide eyes, like some kind of fish.
Alagadda groused. "This'un, though," she said, seizing Laramie by the neck. "She's too smart. She'll get the better of ye. 'Sides, I need creatures I can trust at my side, an' while you ain't the highest-rankin' in that department yer the best I have at paw so you'll have t'do."
"Oh, oh, I know!" Iredell the ferret rushed up, saluting both Alagadda and Jareck wildly. "I got an idea, I got an idea!"
"Spill it," said Alagadda.
"Leave me'n the pasty-faced one here in the library, y'know, t'hold down fort. An' milady an' Cap'n Jareck can go investigate with the other one, Laramie. That's a good idea, right?"
Alagadda rubbed her chin. "Y'think think you can handle the little runt?"
"His name is Roane," said Laramie, unheard.
Iredell's head bobbed up and down. "Aye, milady! I'll not let ye down." She gave Roane a light kick to demonstrate her authority.
"Well, 'tis agreeable t'me," said Alagadda. "Enough chatter. 'Tis time to go."
Alagadda forced Laramie by the scruff of her neck to the window. Laramie leaned out the sill. The courtyard was pleasant at night, now devoid of lizards.
"You go first, squirrel," said Alagadda. "Down you go."
Laramie received a push from behind and toppled headlong out the window.
Kludd was on the verge of a mental breakdown. Or at least a temper tantrum. His lizards would not cooperate.
At first, when Kludd had seen Conredd on the walltops, he had shouted for all his lizards to kill him. But then he had remembered that the door to the cellar was on fire, and that he needed his lizards to storm in and take the abbeybeasts, alive. So he recalled his lizards, shouting for them to stop going after Conredd (who simply stood on the walltop doing nothing, even after Kludd had yelled for his head), and tried to divide them into two separate forces, one which would foray into the cellar and one which would accost Conredd (yes, accost, not kill—he decided he might make use of an alive Conredd more than a dead one).
He should have known that if giving his lizards ONE plan to follow was difficult enough, trying to get them to understand the complexities of a—gasp—TWO-part plan was beyond their pitiful mental scopes. They floundered about confused, dazed, as if they had collectively had their brains sucked out their noses by straws, blundering into each other, falling onto the ground, accomplishing nothing whatsoever. Kludd bellowed at them left and right, whacked them with the blunt edge of his sword, tried to harass them into action. But nothing could be done. They were, quite simply, dumb as rocks.
"What we do," said Darkscale, who seemed to be trembling with anxiety.
"Just—Just bring me back that fox, alive!" Kludd snapped. The Redwallers weren't going anywhere, he could deal with them at any time. If he left Conredd alone for too long, though, who knew what might happen.
The lizards slugged off in more-or-less random directions, mumbling and hissing amongst themselves.
"Alive!" Kludd reminded them. They moved a little faster, shambling up the stairs to the walltops, although they had to slow down because the stairs were only broad enough for one at a time.
Conredd in his hood stood still on the walltop. As Kludd squinted, he wondered if it were really Conredd at all, as the figure seemed rather smallish compared to what Kludd remembered. And with the face obscured, he supposed it could easily be some other fox. Although what other fox would even be here? Not to mention it was clearly Conredd's clothes the fox was wearing. But something about the whole situation felt off. Kludd couldn't place a finger on it, but it must have had something to do with how the fox wasn't moving, or speaking, even as the lizards stumbled along the walltops towards it. And Conredd was a crafty one.
"Come back, get yer worthless tails back 'ere!" Kludd shouted at his lizards. "Can't you lunkheads see it's a trap?"
Some of the lizards heard him and started to turn around, blundering into the lizards behind him who hadn't heard. A few fell from the walltops and the stairs, some began to fight with each other as they continually pushed and shoved in opposite directions. A few of the intrepid ones who had started out first reached maybe-Conredd and grabbed him, dragging him back and forth before beginning to fight between each other for the prize.
Only Darkscale returned to him, mostly because Darkscale had never left his side to begin with.
"Why are all you so flippin' stupid?" asked Kludd.
"…" said Darkscale, moments before Conredd leapt out of nowhere and stabbed the lizard in the back with his rapier.
Kludd backpedaled as Darkscale slumped to the ground. He glanced at the walltops, and sure enough, Conredd was still there, except he was also on the ground beside him. "Wha—? How?"
"A ruse, y'idjit," said Conredd, brandishing the rapier at Kludd. The rapier he had received from Lady Alagadda as a gift for his captaincy, a rapier which had once belonged to a great hare officer in the Long Patrol. Forged with tempered steel with a customized distribution of weight, it had been a family heirloom in the hare's family for seasons and seasons, passing down to the eldest male of the line when the time was right, employed to the task of routing vermin from the realm and defending the innocent at all times. The wielder of the rapier had never fallen in battle, until a young weasel warlord from the north ambushed the last owner and his platoon while they believed themselves to be entertained by friends, slaughtering them down to the last bally hare. The warlord herself had plucked the rapier from the cold dead paw of the hare officer, tested its weight, and passed it off to Conredd with an almost dismissive gesture. Conredd had cherished the token ever since.
Conredd lunged at Kludd with the rapier but his step staggered as Darkscale whipped around on the ground and sunk his fangs into Conredd's leg. Kludd raised his sword to lop Conredd's head off when something plowed into him from behind, knocking him flat onto his stomach. The thing, whatever it was, started clawing into his back, hissing and screaming.
He swung the sword back over his head to strike at whatever it was trying to eat him, poking and piercing while Conredd whipped at Darkscale with the rapier. Kludd hit something hard and whatever it was on his back reared up screeching, enough for him to wriggle his way from under it and stagger to his footpaws, wincing in pain.
Wheeling around, he faced his attacker—that female lizard, the one who had been plotting behind his back the whole time. He knew he should have killed her when he had the chance, although he wasn't exactly sure when that chance had been.
Darkscale had latched onto Conredd's leg and showed no signs of letting go even as Conredd buffeted him with blows, leaving only Kludd and Kalzmar to face off. Everything else dropped off the face of the planet; he saw only his adversary and her blood-dripping talons, the mad glint in her golden eyes. He tongue flicked out at him. He spat.
Conredd went hurtling between them, bouncing across the ground and skidding to a halt some ways away. Kludd charged at Kalzmar, flailing the Sword of Martin over his head. Kalzmar dipped low and aimed her claws at his exposed stomach until Darkscale barreled into her, tackling her to the ground. He raised a row of gleaming claws above his head and raked them across her face as she struggled and slashed at him.
Kludd staggered up and raised his own weapon, not bothering to aim for anything other than Kalzmar's elongated neck. Moments before he swung, two more lizards bumped into him.
He glared at them. The lizards had brought the other Conredd, who Kludd immediately saw was not Conredd at all but his sister Pitkin (alias Sosostris), bound and gagged.
"We brought buzhtail!" said the lizards in unison.
Kludd seethed. "You stupid, stupid, stupid—"
He got no farther, as Conredd—the real Conredd—lunged from behind and ran him through with the rapier.
With a ripped-open leg, three or four busted ribs, and a right arm that wouldn't move at all, Conredd stood over the corpse of Kludd, breathing heavily. All commotion had ceased. The lizards all backed away in awe, even Darkscale, whose fangs still dribbled with Conredd's blood. Kalzmar slithered off the ground but said nothing.
Wiping his snout, Conredd tossed aside his rapier. It landed point-down in the grass. With slow, calculated movements, he balanced precariously on his good leg and pried the Sword of Martin from Kludd's cold dead fingers.
Only half-interested in the sword, he pulled the gag from his sister's mouth. "So y'lived after all," said Conredd. "An' you were worried."
"I coulda been torn limb for limb," said Sosostris, gasping for breath in a manner probably exaggerated. "An' you wouldn't've cared one whit!"
"Yeah, well." Conredd motioned at the two lizards closest to her. "Untie my dear sister, will you?"
They followed his command without a word.
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He was very tired, which was not a good thing. His leg did not hurt, which was even worse. He dared not look down to determine the damage. It would be best if he did not try to walk. Everywhere, lizards surrounded him.
"Oh no," said Sosostris. "Looks like my dear brother is hurt. Why don't ye let me take a nice look at it, I've got some fine hemlock to treat it with!"
"You realize," he said, having to take in a deep breath to muster the words, "That these lizards will listen to anything I say now? That I can have them devour you with but a signal."
"Do it," said Sosostris. She held her arms straight at her sides and glared directly into his face. "I dare ye!"
His throat was dry. He needed water.
From around the corner of the Abbey building, Alagadda and some of her companions appeared. Conredd recognized one of the two creatures flanking her as Jareck. The other was a squirrel or something, nursing her head. His vision was hazy, he could barely make anything out.
A concussion. He had hit his head when the lizard had thrown him.
"Conredd?" said Alagadda. "Wot're y'doin' there, Conredd?"
Conredd raised a paw. "Hullo, milady."
"Conredd," said Alagadda. "Ye better be plannin' on handin' that sword over to me now."
Regarding the sword idly, Conredd shrugged. "Shore, milady." He closed his eyes.
"I mean it, Conredd. Ye've been a loyal cap'n all this time, don't go ruinin' things now. Go on, come over an' hand me that sword."
From behind him, Kalzmar whispered, "Zlay her. Order uzz to zlay her, and we zhall obey."
"I'm not…" Conredd rubbed his head, trying to get ahold of his senses. Everything rang, like a massive, glittering bell smashing against the walls of his skull. "I ain't in much shape fer walkin', milady. You'll 'ave to come on over an' take it yerself."
He pointed at his wounded leg, which he also happened to see for the first time. It was not a pretty sight. When his fellows received such wounds, they usually lost their legs. And not much later, their lives.
Alagadda scoffed. "If yew think I'm walkin' into that den a'scales yer more an idjit than I'd penned ye fer."
"I ain't fakin' with my leg here," said Conredd.
"Give it t'yer sister, then," said Alagadda. "Have her carry it over."
"You trust her? Really?" Conredd allowed himself to laugh. It came out hoarse, brittle. Sosostris crossed her arms and gave an indignant hmph.
"Give the order," whispered Kalzmar. She had slinked close to his ear. "We zhall zlay them all."
Alagadda turned to the creatures she had brought with her. First she addressed Jareck. "You can fetch a simple sword, can't ye?"
Jareck tugged at his collar. "Eh, I dunno." He regarded the army of lizards waiting for the beck of the creature holding Martin's Sword with an uneasy grin. "Mebbe you can't trust me neither, yeah?"
"Bah, an' who can I trust? The squirrel? Where's Vellis when you need her…" Alagadda looked around the Abbey grounds, as if Vellis would be there. But she was not.
Although she did not want to admit it, she too was afraid of the lizards. Or, more accurately, she was afraid of Conredd. She had always joked that he would live to betray her, as vermin lieutenants were so frequently doing in all the old tales. Sometimes they even succeeded. And if there was anytime where somebeast other than herself was holding all the cards, it was this time. Because there was only one card. And it was the famed magic sword of Redwall Abbey.
"And you thought it was a worthless blade," said Laramie.
"I ain't talkin' to yew, squirrel!" said Alagadda.
For a time afterward, nobeast did anything but stare at each other, with naught between the two factions but a pitiful stretch of flat green earth, not yet rotten from lack of care. On one side, Conredd, Sosostris, and the lizards; on the other, Alagadda, Jareck, and Laramie.
At last Alagadda got fed up. "Alright, alright! I'm comin' over fer the sword. If I see you so much as twitch, Conredd, I'll have this dagger in your throat afore you can blink. Understood?"
"I don't even want this," said Conredd, beleaguered.
"Zlay her," whispered Kalzmar. "Zlay her…"
Alagadda took a tepid step toward Conredd, two daggers drawn, her eyes flitting back and forth over the panorama of lizards. Lizards everywhere, lizards on the ground, lizards hanging from the walltops, lizards watching out the windows. Endless multitudes of lizards, unblinking, unthinking, unknowing. Automatons waiting for the barest order.
Jareck and Laramie did not bother to follow her. She didn't care.
Conredd leaned against his sister for support, although she offered him none. As Alagadda made her slow approach, he held the sword toward her, hilt-first, in the standard gesture of supplication.
"Would you zurrender everything, everything, to thizz creature?" whispered Kalzmar, nearly coiling herself around Conredd's neck. "Think of yourzelf, ruler of thizz castle, king of all thizz land. Would you zo eazily give it away?"
Conredd tilted his head toward her. "Shaddap, I ain't gonna be some pawn fer you t'tell what t'do. You think I'm an imbecile?"
Alagadda stopped about halfway between her camp and his. "Conredd. What's that lizzerd sayin' to you?"
"She ain't sayin' nothin' that brokes repeatin'," said Conredd. "Don't worry about it."
"I'm none too fond a'that answer," said Alagadda. She glanced from side to side. The lizards had formed a small semicircle around her.
"Just take the blasted sword!" said Conredd, almost desperate as he offered it to her, his paw trembling.
Kalzmar's claws pressed against the skin on Conredd's neck. "Thizz izz your lazt chance, foxy… Zlay her, or elze…"
Conredd gritted his teeth, flipped the sword around in the air, seized it by the hilt, and swung it at Kalzmar. The lizard had one slow moment to regard her impending demise before the sword clove her head from her body.
"I ain't—"
He got no further before something thudded into his exposed back. Although he still felt nothing, he knew exactly what it was. He dropped the sword and fell to the side, his bad leg buckling beneath him.
Sosostris screamed and ran as fast as she could. Conredd allowed a paw to slide behind him and feel the object lodged there, confirming what he had already conjectured. The hilt of a knife.
"Milady…" he said, before dying.
The lizards made no movement at all. The corpses of Kalzmar, Conredd, and Kludd lay side-by-side. Alagadda remained frozen in place, her arm still extended, the empty paw trembling. She had thrown the dagger as soon as she saw Conredd swing the sword, not sure where the blow was intended.
"Oh come now," said Jareck. "Conredd didn't deserve that."
No. He didn't. Alagadda had made a mistake, offed one of her own subordinates. A stupid, stupid mistake, because she had been scared, she had allowed what she had heard in stories to overcome what she knew herself. What stupid rot! What a stupid, stupid thing!
She wanted to scream. Yell. Throw something. Kill something.
But she didn't. Because she knew other things besides the fact that Conredd had never even considered betraying her once in his miserable stupid pompous self-important life. She knew that to be a successful warlord, somebeast who commanded respect instead of derision, you had to never show weakness.
So she said absolutely nothing. As if slaying Conredd had not even caused her pause for thought. As if it had been perfectly in her prerogative to execute an unruly subordinate. As if she might do the same to Jareck if he didn't shut his stinking trap.
Alagadda of the Many Blades bent down and picked up the Sword of Martin the Warrior.