5.
The Mask Draws Nearer
Brome sat in Council Lodge troubled and worried. Everyday more creatures arrived in Noonvale. Each told of the slow yet inexorable march of Rassk and the Silent Slavers. According to the latest news the doom would descend in half a season's time at the latest. Brome couldn't help but wonder at the irony. Mid-summer, when Noonvale traditionally celebrated the anniversary of the victory over Marshank new would be plagued by yet another war. Only this time the fight was not on the Eastern Coast, but coming straight for the home he loved so dearly.
Brome paced endlessly as he tried to think of a way to forestall the evil slowly creeping to his beloved home. His mother noticed the worry on his face. "Brome dear, look at yourself. Calm down and relax."
Brome continued pacing. "I can't mother. All these creatures are looking to me to make the right decision. We haven't heard anything from Emalet for days now, the streams are starting to run dry because of the drought, the young and old alike are scared…"
"Shhhh, hush dear. The fact you worry so much shows great character. You care so much about the creatures here just as your father did. But please, you must find a way to alleviate your fears. Your father always tried to find the best in each situation, especially when times where hard. You remember his old motto; plan for the worst, hope for the best, expect something in between."
Brome gnawed on his lower lip as he considered his mother's sage words. An idea then suddenly came to him. That afternoon Brome again addressed the entirety of Noonvale. "My friends, you all know of the peril facing us. We know we cannot defeat this slaver and his vermin. We are creatures of peace, not trained warriors. But we can stand as ready as possible in order to prevent us from becoming additions to the line of slaves this masked fox seeks. According to latest reports the slavers are still half a season's march from our valley. This gives us time.
"Never before has Noonvale played guest to so many fine creatures. Therefore I ask your help in these dark times. I ask you to help build a larger shelter house next to the waterfall cliff. We will use the rock face and the timber of the forest to create a place where we can all take refuge should the time come.
A cheer of approval met his words. The creatures of Noonvale all thought working on such a project was a lot better than sitting around twiddling their paws waiting for Rassk to appear. With this plan they might stand a chance. Filled with confidence at the enthusiastic greeting of his plan, Brome went on.
"You all know of our plea to Emalet to find Martin the Warrior. But it has been many days since the owl left us. I knew Martin personally and I can say for a fact he would want us to prepare ourselves as best as we are able. This we will do and try to hold our valley should he never come."
"Martin will come." It was the same clear voice that had spoken at the last assembly. All eyes turned to the speaker. "Martin will come." With that the speaker left and walked to a lookout spot on top of the bluffs on the south side of Noonvale. There the creature sat down and started a vigil to watch for any sign of the Warrior.
Brome was as shocked as any other beast at the strange scene that had just taken place. Gathering himself Brome bid the assembled to begin work on the Refuge the next day. As the creatures of Noonvale left to make preparations for the coming task, Brome walk out the doors and followed the one who had left for the southern bluffs. He found the creature sitting under what shade the rowan and alder trees provided. Despite the heat the Vigil Keeper had put up the hood of the cloak draped over a pair of slender shoulders. Brome approached quietly.
"Good afternoon." The creature did not respond so intent was its gaze on the southern woods.
Brome had to have his questions answered. Standing to the side of the Vigil Keeper he began his questions. "You say you know Martin will come, you sent Emalet to Mossflower when we know that it is ruled by an evil even more powerful than the threat we face now. How can you be so sure of your claim?" There was an edge of panic in Brome's voice.
The Vigil Keeper looked up at the new Patriarch. Brome wilted under the gaze of the Vigil Keeper. Just the look in that one's eyes told Brome that the belief of Martin's return was nothing Brome could ever doubt.
Brome fell to the ground sobbing he poured his heart out to the one next to him. "Sniff…I just wish I had your courage and resolve. I don't know if I'm doing the right thing keeping us all here in Noonvale. The crops are starting to die, there are more mouths to feed than we have available foodstuffs, and this slaver comes closer with each passing day." Hot tears burned the eyes of the mouse.
The Vigil Keeper put a comforting paw on Brome's shoulder. In the soft but firm voice that had been heard in Council Lodge the Vigil Keeper spoke. "Aryah is right Brome. You are the right mouse to lead us during this time. You may not be one to wield a weapon and drive out evil, but you have a different courage. Not many creatures could unite so many to stay and face the dread now facing us. Most others would turn and run as soon as possible. But where would we go? Most of us know nothing of the land beyond Noonvale. The hardships of travel would be too much for so many. Here, you are right, we still have a chance.
"You ask how I know Martin is coming, I wish I knew myself. I don't know how I know it, but he is in Mossflower and he will come. I don't know how long it will take him to reach us, or if he will get here in time, but Martin will return to Noonvale."
Brome felt his confidence return at the words of the Vigil Keeper. Wiping his eyes he got to his footpaws. He brushed off the dirt covering his robes. "Thank you my friend. Can I count on your help to build the refuge?"
The figure turned again to gaze into the woods. "I'm sorry no. I must remain here. Please allow none to join me. I prefer my own company at this time. I give you my word that if needs be I will come back down into the valley and do my part to assist. Until such a time comes, my only advice is to follow your heart and prepare as best you can. You were right when you said Martin would want us to make defensive preparations to the best of our ability. I know that as well as you."
Brome bowed to the Vigil Keeper and left to return to the shelter of Noonvale. There was much to prepare.
A half season's march to the north the waves were breaking on the jagged coast of the Eastern Sea. Rassk and his Silent Slavers had formed their battle line. With grim eyes they faced the searat horde that pounded up the shore towards them. Yelling fearsome war cries and waving a wide variety of cutlasses and ship pikes the vermin crew charged the slavers.
Very few corsair crews carried large amounts of bowbeasts or slingers, searats and pirates generally preferring to be in close to their victims where they could be truly brutal. Since it was only against such foes that Rassk had ever faced he had arranged his forces to deal with that threat. Positioning his small force next to large rock outcrops the searat crew would be funneled into small numbers against his own vermin. Rassk had the Silent Slaver show a wall of iron shields to his enemies in three rows of ten slavers. Working as one the Silent Slavers thrust their spears over top and beneath the shield wall much like two sets of alternating pistons. As one set of spears thrust the other would draw back and vice versa. The Slavers in the second and third rows added their own shields to provide overhead and flanking cover for the expert spearbeasts in the front row.
Soon due to the effective precision and discipline of Rassk's tactics the searat crew lay either dead or dying on the blood soaked sands. Rassk gave the signal and the thirty slavers began to move among the bodies of their fallen foes. Checking each body carefully the slavers finished off any survivors with quick thrusts of their spears. Soon the grisly task was done and Rassk led the Slavers up the coast to where the searat ship had been sighted.
The galley slaves were shocked when the masked and silent ones came aboard and led them off the ship. Some at first thought they were being freed and started to cheer. Quick stabs of several spears and several more broken bodies let the remaining galley slaves know they were not to talk and their freedom just another dream. Rassk lined up the slaves on the shore and wrote in the sand with his sword.
You are the property of Rassk the Mask. Speak and die, escape and die, you no longer have names, you are only those who will work for Rassk.
The Silent Slavers dug out more of the cruel bark masks and fitted them to the new slave's heads before chaining them to the running line with the rest of the slaves. Rassk watched over the efficient process. One of the slavers then came up to Rassk. In the complex claw signals they used to communicate the Slaver told Rassk of a valley half a season's march to the south, many had fled their in terror of Rassk, but it was a place of few warriors. Rassk quickly had the slave line up and moving as he and the Silent Slavers turned south west in the direction of Noonvale.
A/N; The action will start picking up soon I promise. Filler chapters like this though needed for the story are boring to me. But it makes the future chapters better. More coming soon.