The Fallen Star

A Tale of Redwall

{7}

The choppy waves of the great ocean pounded against the hull of the two ships. Though the mighty girth of the Hellgates prevented the waves from affecting those inside, it was a much different story for those inside of the ship formerly known as the Turquoise. The ship was being towed along by a rope behind the stern of the Hellgates, and was to remain so until a proper captain would be assigned from the ship. Until then, the survivors of the battle were confined to the lower deck of the ship, where they were chained up against a series of benches and kept close watch on by about a score of vermin on board. Many of the officers were arguing what to call their new ship, though they may as well have called it Misery, for that was what the prisoners felt like.

Jeff the Vole was one of the lucky ones to have survived. His injured arm was in a makeshift sling, though that was all that it was in. Truth be told, he considered himself to be even luckier than ever now; normally, prisoners that were too wounded become oarslaves would be tossed overboard, considered useless to have aboard. He guessed that the boat would be a bit short on slaves if he was kept alive, though he was still not too happy about it. Gazing left and right, he took note of the other survivors.

There were only a few of them still alive. Jeff had been chained with old Bruno, the otter in charge of the helm before the ship was taken. In front of them both was the hare, Gregory, who was sitting next to one of the squirrel slaves from aboard the Hellgates that was brought along as reserves.

"Well, this is a sorry mess we got ourselves into, mates," Jeff said sadly, "I should'a never left 'ome. Me ol' mom told me ta stay with the little ones, but no…No, I didn't listen."

"Ah, don't fret about it, mate," Gregory said, "We'll get out of this bally thing in notime, wot? I'm sure some ol' rip's got to come lookin' for ol' whatsisname Gustof, and we'll get rescued, right?"

The squirrel next to them gave a slight chuckle of sad amusement. Jeff growled at the slave as he gazed coldly at the young wretch; barely old enough to be considered an adult.

"What're you laughin' at, squirrel?" the vole asked.

The squirrel kept up his laughter for a little bit before wiping his teary eyes and replying to the vole. "You're so blind," he said sadly, "No ship, free or otherwise, can defeat the Hellgates. It's big enough to plow through whole armadas and leaving nothing but splinters and old cloth in its wake. I know…I've seen it happen. You and your friends are doomed to a life like mine, and your stupid noble's probably going to be tortured to death…or held for ransom. Either way…we're all doomed."

Gregory gazed over at the young lad and laid a paw on his shoulder. "That's where you're wrong, lad. Evil ones always get their cummupance, wot? These vermin types are no different. They are all deadbeasts the moment they are born, for they are born in a world where good triumphs over evil, and those of doom soon are tortured forevermore under the might that is good. You'll see…we'll get out of this yet."

Jeff was about to agree when he saw Bruno turn rigid. The otter had not once kept his gaze outside of the porthole since they were chained up. Jeff shook the otter's shoulder in an attempt to get his attention.

"Oi! Bruno, what's gotten into ye? What're you lookin' at?"

Bruno turned to face his comrades, his eyes looking rather grim. "Don't look now, mates," he said, "But I don't think that we may get our chance to leave. I've been watchin' where we've been headin' the moment we got caught. We be headin' east, into calmer waters. We've just passed into Humboldt territory…t'ere's no 'scaping it now. I don't think even the Hellgates can face those blighters!"

Selena awoke, finding herself in chains and covered in what could only be the finest silk robe she had ever felt. Of course, that was one of the few pieces of clothing on her. Save for the undergarments that protected her modesty, she was almost completely naked. Getting up, she rubbed her head in an attempt to clear it, and looked around.

She was inside of an extravagant room. The familiar rocking indicated that they were still on a ship, but the waters must have been calm, for she could barely feel any movement at all. The room she was in had trophies, beautiful golden trinkets, and the occasional tapestry or two. On the floor at her feet, right next to a very big bed and a throne made of fine cyprus and other beautiful woods, was a rug made out of the hide of a very, very, very large beast.

Selena felt that she wasn't alone. Turning around, she saw a long line of girls that were similarly dressed as she was; all in chains, and lined up against the wall. They were all staring rather darkly at her; some with forlorn expressions, others with, surprisingly, pure hatred and malice. As she looked, she didn't notice the claw extending and poking at her chin until she began to feel her gaze being manipulated away.

"So," said a sultry voice, "This is the new arrival? Hmm…not much to look at, is she? Dearest Guldar must be running low on taste."

Selena was struck by awe as a dark-blue creature that looked like a dangerously beautiful weasel stood before her. The creature was like a glistening pool of beauty, her features covered in every mask of what could only be described as visually perfect, wondrously pretty, and dazzlingly pleasing to the eye. However, though she looked beautiful, the creature did by no means mask the cruelty in her eyes, which shone like fire in glistening green orbs.

Selena felt the claw lift her up into a standing position. The squirrelmaid did her best not to show her discomfort as the sharp object threatened to poke a hole in her chin. The weasel, or whatever it was, seemed to be disappointed at the fact that she wasn't getting more pain out of Selena, and proceeded to extend her other claws as well.

"Listen well, child," the creature hissed, "I am on top here. No one has more influence over his highness than I, and it took me a long time to get the part. Let it be known that it is not the Pine Marten that you should fear, but myself instead…for if I ever catch you trying to woo Guldar, you will face a punishment far worse than death. Am I clear?"

Selena couldn't move or say anything due to the four claws poking in her chin. Instead, she let out a loud swallow, indicating her fear and her understanding of the situation. The creature smiled in satisfaction and let Selena droop down in a less than graceful fashion, before turning around and flicking her aside with her powerful tail. The squirrelmaid landed flat on her back; tears starting to well up in her eyes as she got herself back up in a kneeling position.

The deadly creature walked back over to a room nearby. As she closed the door behind her, all of the slave girls breathed a sigh of relief. Quietly, they began to shift among themselves and move together into groups based upon how far their chains could move. Selena was soon by herself, and so quietly she sat down and curled her arms around her knees, crying silently in despair.

How did I get myself into this? She asked herself. I should have never left home.

The Hellgates continued its mad rush forward into the calmer waters of the Great Sea. The crew beasts of the mighty vessel rushed frantically to make sure that the mighty sails of the ship caught every scrap of suitable wind. The Hunters busied themselves as well; checking the stockpile of weapons, sharpening swords, loading quivers, and doing whatever else was needed to ensure that they were all in fighting shape. The helms-rat, a spiny creature from the far south, kept a steady course as the mighty ship soared through the open water.

Up high above, a stoat sitting in the crow's nest kept close watch on the waves in case if there were any obstacles or danger. Something didn't sit right in his guts. Everything was too quiet out in the open sea. There weren't even seagulls fishing in the water; they were busy soaring higher and higher, as if to try and get away from the surface.

Greenfang stood oblivious to all of this. He was too busy scheming. Standing at the prow of the vessel, he gazed across the open waters with the eyes of an eager hawk looking out for worthy prey. He could feel his blood racing with excitement; his every sense increased tenfold as he felt the wind brush against his fur, and the sea spray send its strong scent up his nose.

Soon, all of this would be his. Everything on the known map of the great sea, from the far north where ice and cold dug deep into the bone to the far south where the heat was said to melt swords and roast the unwary and unprepared alive. Every island dotting the surface, every port along the known coastlines, and every vessel upon the open sea would be his…even the Hellgates. Nothing, not even the great Guldar Deadeyes himself, would stand in his way.

It had taken him a long time to get up this far into the ranks. It had been simple enough; most have to start somewhere in the way of military ranks in order to get up to the top. Many of the bounty hunters and crewmembers among the ranks of the Hellgates were all veterans of the Dark Horde; that massive army that existed not long ago that almost conquered the entire Great Continent. Others were recent additions; Bounty Hunters that learned of the great Hellgates that joined up either as freelancers or as permanent additions.

Greenfang hated to admit it, but he was one of the unlucky ones. He had been forcibly brought along as the slave to a freelancer bounty hunter. That said freelancer died in combat while still on contract to the Hellgates, leaving everything he owned to its captain, Guldar. Greenfang was just a young rat then, but he began to plot and scheme and prepared to take action against the other hunters. From a cabin boy, he grew in rank until he took the title of bosun, but even high standing above the crew wasn't enough. He needed more.

Not 18 seasons old, Greenfang began to get on the good side of the eldest hunters aboard the Hellgates; Gorrahg the Whiplash. The dreaded hunter was known throughout the ship as one of the greatest swordbeasts aboard, and had a deadly reputation as a beast that killed instantly with his combination of broadsword and his "Demon Whip," a black, scourge of a weapon with a sharp barb at the end.

Getting on the old rat's good side was dangerous. Gorrahg was experienced, and knew well how to deal with young rips trying to kiss up to his strength. He also had a young son, scarcely nine seasons old, who was as paranoid as any young rat would be and refused to allow his father to have anything to do with the young crewmate. The rat wouldn't have anything other than success, however, and eventually managed to become an important lackey to the experienced warrior.

All it took was one slip of a drug in his drink and a challenge to a duel to close his scheme on a good note. Greenfang had studied the code of the hunters ever since he was brought on board, and knew full well that he could not become a hunter without first beating one fair and square. Well, fair was out of the question; Gorrahg was by far the greatest swordsman on the vessel next to the weasel Shadran and the great Deadeyes himself. If it weren't for the drug slowing his senses and deadening his brain, Greenfang would never have been victorious against the warrior rat's blade.

Cutting off the hunter's head was easy. Tossing the body overboard was easier, though not before Greenfang had anything of significant value stripped from his body, leaving him nearly naked before the sharks took his carcass. The old rat's son, Gorril, was nary 12 seasons when he was orphaned by the ambitious rat. Greenfang left him alive to carry out the fate that he once took not that long ago. He hated the youngling, but he would rather make him suffer by his hand then end his life right away.

Nary 21 seasons old, Greenfang had been inducted as the first rat ever to beat Gorrahg in a duel, and was given the honor of becoming a hunter of Guldar's forces. That was many seasons ago, though Greenfang was still considered young for a high-ranking hunter. Even now, he was being treated for his loyalty to Guldar by being given the rank of captain and even being given his own ship, the Misery, to command. Though it was not the Hellgates, it was more than suitable for the start of a much greater plan.

Now, all that Greenfang had to do was find a way to get full control of the Hellgates.

As the newly promoted Captain turned around, he saw the rat Gorril. He was eyeing him; watching him from afar as he attended to tightening the ropes binding the Hellgates and the Misery together. Greenfang could tell that something was up. He could feel it in his traitorous bones. Slyly, he approached the young rat; taking care that the sword formerly belonging to Gorrahg was showing outright to the young crew rat.

"Wot are ye up to, bilge rat?" Greenfang hissed.

Gorril kept his cool. He looked up at the hunter and saluted. "Just makin' sure the ropes were good n' tight, sir. Didn't want yore ship tah set sail without ye."

Greenfang looked disdainfully at the ropes. Sure enough, they were bound good and tight. There were no signs of loosening or anything; absolutely no signs of betrayal. The rat glared at young Gorril and growled.

"Wot do yew want, boy?" he growled.

Gorril looked down at his feet. Inwardly, he was trying to contain himself. He wanted more than ever to strangle the vermin captain right now.

"I…I was thinkin'," he muttered, "…I…was thinkin' er…of joinin' yer crew."

Greenfang twitched an ear. "Come agin?" he asked, "Oi don't believe ah heard ye, lad."

Gorril took a deep breath and spoke louder this time. "I was thinkin' of joinin' yer crew, Cap'n Greenfang. I want ter join ye aboard the Misery. I don't care wot position I get…I still wanna join yew n' yer crew. Can I, sir?"

Greenfang could see right through Gorril's ruse. He stared, ruthlessly, at young Gorril. The rat thought he could pull the wool over his eyes, but Greenfang was no fool. He had done the trick so many times before; wooing a superior and making them think he was on their side just before killing them outright. Gorrahg had paid with his life for falling for such tricks. Greenfang wasn't going to let the same thing happen to him.

Before he could say anything, however, he and Gorril both were distracted by the sound of a scream. Both of them turned over to the port of the vessel in time to see the tail of a rat fly overboard; its owner splashing into the waves. A crew rat that had just watched backed away in fright before running off to the opposite side of the deck.

"'Elp! 'Elp, mates! Ol' Smidge just wen' ovverbored!"

The rat didn't go a step further before he was tripped head over paws by Greenfang. The deadly rat captain reached down and picked the fallen rat up by the scruff of his neck.

"Calm down, stoopid!" he growled, "Wot 'appened? Where'd ol' Smidge gerroff to?"

The rat gasped a few times to catch his breath, frightened as he was, before speaking. "Huntah," he said, "A big red devvil o' a beast jus' leaped up an' grabbed Smidge clean out o' the air! Took 'im under the waves ovverbored! I nevah saw nothin' so 'orrible in all me loife!"

"Ye ain't seen 'orrible yet afore I's through with ye," Greenfang roared. "These devvils…there be more?"

The rat nodded quickly. "Aye, huntah! At least tenscore or moah!"

Greenfang dropped the rat in a heap. He let loose a mighty howl. "All paws, man yer battlestations! The Hellgates is unner attack! Get yerselves some pikes n' swords, quickly! All hunters, get ready tah defend Deadeyes wit' yer lives! We're unner attack!"

The crewbeasts immediately went into action. Warrior rats, at least twoscore strong, stormed onto the main deck; each armed with deadly pikes, swords, hooks, and other deadly weapons vermin carry on the open sea. Archers began to make their way to vantage points on the mast and upon the upper deck with bows notched carefully by arrows neatly sharpened in the lower decks.

Guldar Deadeyes stepped out of his cabin to survey the commotion. "What in flippin' 'ell is goin' on 'ere?"

Greenfang rushed up to the captain and saluted. "Cap'n, we're surrounned by devvils! A crew rat go' takin' ovverbored by a monsta'! Tha' ship is unner attack!"

The Pine Marten captain laughed aloud. "Yore off yer rocker, Greenfang! What makes ye believe I'd take yer story as true?"

Both vermin were caught off guard when a series of none-too-curious vermin crewmembers poked their noses over the side. Instantly they were sent overboard screaming as a series of red flashes leapt from the water; enveloping the vermin in tooth-like ropes before landing into the water. The sea suddenly foamed with blood around the Hellgates as it continued its journey, though oddly the creatures caught up alongside it with ease.

"All deckhands, prepare for battle!" Guldar shouted, "Hellgates is under attack! Get yer sorry hides up 'ere an' protect the ship! Show them red devils what it means to be the crew of da' Hellgates!"

Right away more vermin began to show up. Weasels, stoats, ferrets, and rats began to stay near the sides of the ship, though not close enough to get caught by the beasts. As soon as some of the red creatures speedily leapt from the surface of the water, the vermin attacked with everything they had; though most only managed to catch air and sea spray with their sharp blades. Those few that hit their targets only scratched an arm or two, and suddenly were repelled by jets of black ink to their faces.

Many more vermin were just as unlucky as the rest that had already fallen overboard. Wiry tentacles enveloped their faces, barbed hooks caught onto their fur and flesh, and many more were simply struck by the flying bodies of the red creatures just before they fell into the sea. The moment they landed, the red creatures dove to their scrambling bodies and quickly began to devour the poor souls.

Guldar could see right away that things were being enveloped into chaos. Growling, he turned to the rat captain. "Don' just stand there!" he shouted, "Go and 'elp!"

Greenfang gave the pine marten a look of shock. "Me?" he asked, "I'm an officer! Why no' send more crew tah do it?"

The pine marten gave Greenfang a nasty look with his deadly gaze. "Yore a hunter," he said, "And I'm the commandin' officer. One more word and I'll toss ye overboard meself! Now, get goin'!"

Greenfang wisely saluted. "Right away, sir," he said quickly before taking off like a madbeast. Greenfang may have hated Guldar, but he knew better than to tangle with the mighty pine marten warlord. They didn't call him Deadeyes for nothing.

On the lower decks, the oarbeasts were taking part in the chaos as well. Oars were being tugged left and right by the violent creatures, striking many of the unwary beneath the chin or in the gut and forcing many of the oarbeasts to be dragged closer to the sides of the ship. The bosun rat quickly whipped the air to try and get order restored despite the chaos going on outside.

"Get yer hides back in yer seats!" he shouted, "I don' wan' no rebelli'n 'ere, you lot! Get back 'er I'll tan ye all 'til yer fur drops off!"

A slave shouted amidst the din. "I can't get the oar out!" he remarked in alarm, "Somethin's tuggin' it!"

"I can't either!" another one said, "Something's got a'hold o' mine!"

"Hurr, oi'm be a gudd strombeast," a mole said in the back, "an' this un' won' leggo o me eether."

The bosun knocked two slaves aside, chains and all, onto the wooden floor of the lower deck. "Yer all daft beasts," he growled, "It's jus' serm fish 'er debris on der ropes. Lay off! I'll fix it ye mangy dogs…WOAH!"

The rat was suddenly tugged into the porthole as the oar was dragged clean out of his grasp. The unlucky bosun's hand was stuck; its furry form lapping in the ocean as the oar was pulled away. Suddenly he screamed as he was tugged further, right up to his shoulder, by something with extreme force.

"It's gorra me!" he shouted, "Help!"

Bruno the Otter, one of the two tossed aside, quickly grabbed onto the rat. "It's humboldts, lads!" he shouted, "Quick! 'Elp me pull 'im inside afore 'e gets 'is arm pulled off!"

The squirrel slave looked up at the otter with a look of indignation. "And why should we help him at all?" he asked.

The otter gave the squirrel a glare. "'Cause if'n we don't," he growls, "Those lugs outside'll tear 'der hull apart just to getta 'der rest o' 'im! Then we'd all be deadbeasts!"

Right away Jeff, Gregory, and some other slaves began to tug hard on the bosun. Try as they might, they only managed to get his shoulder out of the porthole. His arm began to crack as the powerful beast behind the rat's attack tugged with impressive strength.

The rat screamed. "The thing's eatin' me!" he yelped. "YOWCH! Oh, help! It's tearin' me arm to pieces! Get me outta 'ere!"

"Jus' a bit more, mates," the otter said with a tug, " Everybeast, lean together naow! Pull!"

With some more help, they finally tugged the Bosun out of the porthole. However, he was by no means free. The moment his arm returned to the inside of the hull, it brought with it a huge, red tentacle that was at least as long as the rat was tall. Hooks and barbs clung tightly to the rat's skin while the top of it remained curled around his arm. Pieces of flesh at the base of the rats wrist were torn off, revealing severed chunks of bleeding flesh and muscle. The mouth responsible for the damage; a huge, curved beak that was as white as bone; clacked noisily as the monster tried to tug the rat back out.

The bosun had fainted dead away from the sight of his arm. The squirrel slave quickly rushed up to try and yank the others off of him. "There, you see!" he said, "Good as dead now! Can't we just kill 'im now?"

Bruno knocked the squirrel aside with a powerful blow from his elbow. "Back off," he growled, "Somebeast get 'is sword, an' quick!"

Jeff reached down and grabbed the bosun's weapon, quickly tossing it to Bruno as he did. Just then, the rat awoke and grabbed the otter frightfully before he could even raise the weapon.

"Wot're ye doin?" he gasped, "Don' kill me! I'm no' redday!"

Bruno glared at the bosun rat. "Do ye wanna live?"

The rat could only nod.

"Then leggo!"

The bosun obeyed. Wordlessly Bruno lifted the sword and slashed down hard. The weapon sliced into the wiry arm halfway through, causing the beast to tug furiously. Black ink suddenly was squirted from within, forcing many of the slaves back. That did not stop Bruno, who merely swiped down harder with the rat's curved blade.

Crack! Everyone still keeping hold of the rat fell over backwards as the tentacle was sliced neatly in half. The beast on the other side actually soared over the ocean due to the release of such force before crashing into the ocean; its body missing just one out of eight long, spindly tentacles. From the porthole, the others could see many more of the beasts, which were busy ravenously feeding off of falling bodies from above.

"Wot in flippin' name's all this, lads?" Gregory shouted.

Bruno busily unwrapped the tentacle from the bosun's arm; taking care not to snap any of the delicate hooks as he did lest they become trapped and fester in the beast's body. "Ye just got yer firs' look at humboldt squid, lads. They be's the darkest devils of the seas. Me pap once tried ter fish fer some. Didn't work out too well…"

"I should say not," Gregory agreed, "Did'ya see the size of that confounded beastie? Phaw! That thing's big 'nough to eat the whole Freedom Fighter regiment, wot!"

Bruno shook his head. "Alone, no," the otter said, "Together, yes. Just take a peek outside ta' see what I mean, mates."

Everyone looked to see one of the unfortunates, a weasel, being devoured alive. Tentacles waved in the air as the vermin was torn to pieces, his blood turning the water and foam red. He just barely managed to get his hands to grasp the porthole before he lost his grip to the embrace of death, leaving his body to be torn apart by the monsters.

The rat bosun shuddered. His arm was in great pain, but he completely ignored it. He couldn't believe he had just missed getting himself killed like that.

Before he could say anything, he felt his sword thrust up against him, handle first, causing him to instinctively grab it. He looked up at the otter with surprise.

"Ye'd better see tah that arm," he said, "afore yor mates find out."

The rat silently got up and scampered off. Bruno looked at the other slaves. "Get yerselves away from the sides, mates. Don't wanna get yerselves killed by those monsters, do ye?"

The other slaves did as they were told, quickly scooting to the walkspace between the oar benches and sitting upon the wood, their chains rattling with every movement. The squirrel, who had hit his head on one of the oars that didn't get pulled away, looked up at the old otter angrily.

"What'd you let him get away for?" he asked, "You could have taken his sword and run him through like that, or better yet left him to die to those monsters! Why'd you do it, you coward?"

Jeff the Vole hit the squirrel with his good paw, sending him sprawling on the wood bench. "Lissen' 'ere, yew stupid git!" the vole growled, "Ye'd better be grateful t'at Bruno even did wot 'e did! He saved us all from 'tose monsters! An' what'd ye do, pray tell, ifn' we did slay that rat? Wot good is it ter escape with only one sword an' at least fivescore starvin' beasts? Ye do the math, squirrel. Don' let it hurt yer head too much."

The vole moved back over with Bruno and sat down beside him. The squirrel simply gave the group a stare of ice as the survivors of the Turquoise sat down. Gregory scoffed.

"Looks to me we've made ourselves an enemy, eh wot?"

Bruno looked back up at the stairs where the rat had gone. "Mebbe," he said, "But 'tis better ta have one more than a whole shipful, mate."

Kerian: Don't be scared...just because I've risen from the grave it doesn't mean I'm going to eat your brains...or suck your blood...or anything undead related for that matter. rofl.

I cannot help but bow my head in despair knowing that my favorite author, Brian Jacques, has died. It's even harder knowing I could have had the opportunity to shake his hand if I had known it was available. I feel very sorry knowing that he died, but even though he has passed on I can't help but feel a bit obligated to finish this story, at least somewhat so that you guys have a bit more to read. I know I haven't worked on it in a while, but at the very least I'll keep working on it so long as I have the available time. This also includes my other fanfics n' stories, so don't worry if I keep disappearing the way I have been recently.

I just finished reading The Sable Quean not too long ago. I would have been upset if I knew it was the last book, but low and behold to my surprise that Brian Jacques had been writing another one before he passed on! The very last book, when it comes out, will soon be in my possession once I have the money I need to get my hands on it. Although The Sable Quean was good, in my eyes I still like Eulalia! and Doomwhyte better, so I'll be rereading those as I continue this fanfic.

Just to let you know, yes...Humboldt squids do exist in real life. Yes, they are big critters (at least as big as a man's torso in real life). Yes, they do have hooks instead of suckers. And yes...they are voracious predators to the point that even humans are considered easy prey. Don't believe me? Look it up on youtube. I'm sure you'll find a vid or two explaining about how these monsters like to slice your flesh up into pieces with those beaks of theirs...*evil grin* Also, I'm sorry if everyone's accent has been screwed up since I last posted. I haven't worked on the fanfic for a long time, and only just managed to finish this chapter a short while ago, so I'm a bit rusty at writing Redwall style at the moment. Hopefully that'll be fixed before long, as well as all the typos you've been seeing throughout the story. No more "Minx" stuff...*shudders* I can't believe I mistook that as proper spelling. I feel terrible.

Well, that's it for now. Hope you all enjoyed the chapter! Until next time, me out!

-Kerian