Prologue
"Master Rufe! Master Durry! Ca-n-n I see your swords from Joseph?" asked a little Dibbun, an infant just born. The feeble mouse looked towards the elders in such an adorable mater that Rufe couldn't do anything but smile. The old hedgehog awoke from his slumber and Rufe turned away from the fire. The warmth had made a very comfortable nap for Durry Quill, Rufe Brush was getting tired himself. Rufe and Durry always liked to spend the last hours of the day by a fire. The spontaneous fire soothed their souls.
"Wha-? Oh, you mean Fatch?" stumbled the aged squirrel. Durry looked confused. The unlikely once been warrior began to unsheathe Fatch. "Keep up, Durry, ol' lad. The young mouse wants to see Finnbarr! Now be careful, ye mousechild. These swords have killed and they will do so again!" he chuckled.
He watched as the young mouse carefully held Fatch, one of Galedeep Finnbarr's twin swords. Durry held the other. The mouse held it with such care and grace; as if it was a treasure that could be as easily lost as it was found. The moonlight shone through the beautifully made sword, reflected.
"I'm not gonna let you an' Fatch get all the glory," remarked Durry, making his way across the oak flooring. He reached for his sword, unsheathing it as well. He made his way back, holding the spikes on his aching back. "Old Finnbarr had his fair share of fights!" The mousebabe switched swords.
"These are so heavy!" squeaked the mouse. "How did you carry them?" he asked, shifting the weight of the twin swords.
The two laughed aloud. "Don't you worry chap. You get used to it! Can you believe Galedeep the otter could fight with both? Haarararara! Hohohoho!" chuckled Durry. "That old beast was one of a kind. He was a captain and a clever fighter. Could have taken out all of the Urgan Nagru's horde if there was more left of creatures like Galedeep."
The mouse looked confused. "You act like some of them escaped?"
"Aye, you're a clever one, aren't ye, laddie. You can't catch all the vermin in the world. Or else we'd all get to fat and lazy!" joked Rufe. "Besides, as much terror as their was, it was fun doin' it. Could you believe a warrior like me was once a coward to afraid to leave the Abbey." The mouse shook his head, stunned that the once great warriors were afraid of anything. "Oh yes. You can believe it. Anyway, what we're we saying?"
The conversation shifted to Durry. "The part about the vermin escapin'. Yep. Most notably, two! That nasty Sicant and Vengro. Those filthy hordebeasts fled from the fight when it was over. Mind you, most creatures who escape live a life of safety, but not these two. They were looking for trouble. We'll have to tell you about it sometime."
But the mouse was not disheartened. He was filled with questions. "Why can't you tell me about it? I want to know. Did you two kill those escapees? Did you beat them? Was Martin involved?"
"Oh-ho-hoooo! Don't get too excited. We'll tell you. But don't you tell anyone. You come back here every night around this time and I'll tell you more of the story. Rufey and I will tell ya all about it. From Sicant and Vengro's travels, the siege of the Northern Mountains, and that badger gone bad. But Rufey will have to start you off, I'm too tired tonight." The mousechild sat happily, not saying a word as the squirrel stood up to tell the tale.
Days upon days they traveled. Summer's warm weather were greeted by Fall's cool leaves. The forest we're painted with the colors of the seasons. The food began diminished, and plans didn't seem to go to well. The air got cooler.
But the rage of Sicant and Vengro's burned harder! The fire pushed away the cold.
And so the raging cold came in storms. The leaves and trees crippled under the mighty paw of ice. Animals took their hiding. The food was almost gone. But the blood on their swords kept their bellies fed. But the food of others were no match for something warm to keep them alive.
But the rage of Sicant and Vengro's burned harder! The fire pushed away the cold.
And so Spring came, but it got colder still. What was once known to them as May's showers were treated by hailstorms. Because the farther up North, the colder life became. And the battles became harder, but they still managed.
Because the rage of Sicant and Vengro's burned harder! The fire pushed away the cold.
And finally they reached their destination. Urgan Nagru had left behind a tribe of harsh creatures, savage weasels and stoats and rats that were to greedy to take with but too troublesome to kill. If they played their cards right, revenge would be theirs!
So the rage of Sicant and Vengro's burned harder than ever! For the flames had ignited more fire. And this time, the fire would push the cold away forever.