We enter camp fairly quickly after that, and it becomes duly obvious things have changed. Everybeast has become more ragged, seemingly, even though we had barely been gone. No one's smiling and everyone is hurting.
Dantalion had attempted another try at democracy. The Redwallers let him, Saw and some other rats in their abbey, but refused to agree to his terms. Dantalion left in a rage. Words were exchanged and a brief skirmish followed; not with swords and shields but with knuckles and teeth. The rest of the group never left the abbey, they said. Dantalion made it back but Saw and company were still in Redwall. Not captured, they speculated, but simply lost.
I thought of the church's maze and my heart rose to my throat.
Dantalion's failed attempt at bureaucracy has not gone over well with the rest of the group. Reportedly, one disgruntled member spit in the wildcat's face and left.
I'm told Dantalion simply cleaned himself and smiled
, but not the way he's half grimacing, half-greeting Rask, Anizev and I as we seek him out by the campfire.
"Back so soon?" He queries, regarding us with a bemused expression. In general, the feline looks more exhausted than anything- not physically, but mentally. There are beasts that always have a plan B, and Dantalion's second attempt still failed.
I think he's found an opponent and it's dawned on him that he may not be able to overcome the obstacles in his way.
"We did find a church," Anizev says, voice calculated- unsure of how to approach the situation. "And, we ran into some issues th-"
"That damned church was possessed," Rask grunts.
For a moment, Dantalion's eyes flash. "Is that so?" He hums, looking straight at me.
"Rask and I stumbled upon a number of strange things in the chapel undercroft," I declare. "What seemed to be a maze, runes, and-" I think of the horrid creature with eyes, no defining features except for red irises staring out from a black void- "Things you and I probably weren't meant to see."
The wildcat crosses his legs. With his ears pinned to the sides, the gesture seems to represent the sheer frustration this entire endeavor has caused. "It appears Mossflower has much more to it than meets the eye," he plainly states.
Weighing my time and running down dreams.
"This is bollocks, chief," Rask grumbles. "I didn't ask for this."
I wince, expecting the wildcat to rear up and strike Rask for his insolence. Instead, Dantalion just sighs.
"There is only so much I can do to placate and comfort you," he tells the ferret, exasperated. "Only so much I can say, anyway. I prefer to be a beast of action."
"Beast of burden, more like it!"
That got his attention. Eyes widening, Dantalion arches his back and cranes his neck. Approaching the campfire is a surly looking rat. Stocky and dark, the tribal-looking rodent approaches Dantalion with an expression of scrutiny across his face. "What a load. All you've done is talkin'. Every plan y'have fails. Those damned abbeymice from Redwall beat us, and chances 're none of them's ever lifted anything sharper than a kitchen knife. This is embarrassing, and a disgrace to the beasts you swindled here."
"Well?"
"Well? Well?" The rat leans in as the crowd around us begins to thicken. The vermin shoves his snout right into Dantalion's view, eyes full of malice. "I could do a better job o'this than you". After a brief pause: "I should be doing the job."
"But you aren't," Dantalion sighs. "I suggest you stand down before you're out of any occupation."
"Stand down?" The rat is growling. "You're a common wanker, you know that? You are a joke."
"Stza," Dantalion calmly murmurs. "I like you. Don't do this. You're losing sight."
The rat, Stza, grabs Dantalion by the collar and gets up close. Face to face, eye to eye. "I'm losing sight? You," he hisses, "you've lost sight. You're becoming everything you hated. Y'put on this facade of tranquility, but I know this isn't you. Where's the damn fearsome warchief I sailed with, eh? I'm here with the rest of 'em sacrificing my body out there."
"What do you know about sacrifice? You are no lamb." Dantalion's voice is wavering, like something beneath him is trying to break out. "Don't patronize me. Furthermore, don't patronize yourself, friend."
Stza roars, his grip going straight to the feline's neck. We watch, dumbfounded as this rat begins to choke Dantalion- or at least attempt to.
The wiry muscles in the wildcat have become active once again, as he effortlessly wrestles the rat away from his throat. In one moment, Dantalion grabs Stza's free arm, pulling the rat by the shirt and twisting it over his shoulder. There's an audible pop, and I wince. From here in one fluid motion, Dantalion sweeps out the ray's leg with a kicking motion, leaning forward. Stza's sent sailing over the wildcat's hip, head over heels- right onto the campfire's open flame.
It only takes a moment for the rat to catch fire; even as he attempts to catch his fall, red-hot tongues of flame begin to spread across his clothes. Spinning twice, he unleashes a bloodcurdling yell before crumpling to the ground, moaning.
"How dare you," Dantalion is saying. "How dare you."
Stza emits a high-pitched blend of whine and groan as the fire spreads. I can almost taste the scent of burning fur and flesh as it permeates the air with its stench. He spasms and shrieks, skin literally melting from bone.
"How dare you bring such selfish and ignorant views down upon this group!" Dantalion thunders, looking more and more like the savage beast on the Horizon Runner. "This campaign is not for petty gain; it affects entire generations! If this fails, your children and your grandchildren will suffer from the same discrimination and apartheid that you went through. We can not break. We can not stop after coming so far, and we must work as a group. Putting one's self before all is the downfall that fell so many before us."
Stza is motionless, the fire seemingly engulfing him. No one moves to help him; no one wants to risk the wrath brought upon them.
"No mutiny," he growls. "No fears about imaginary monsters," he glances at me, and my heart sinks, "and no turning back. Am I understood?"
"Yes!" There's a rushed, panicked agreement from the troops. Someone whimpers.
"Good," Dantalion declares, a nigh-demonic grin etched upon his face. "We march on Redwall tomorrow night."