A/N; (still in announcer voice) Lllllllllllleets get ready to rumblllllllllllllee!!!!!!!

8.

Song of the Sword

Martin and the rest of the Redwallers had made a march worth of song and remembrance. They had been fortunate enough to avoid any problems on the trail and had made great time as they trekked northwards. As the distance to Noonvale grew less and less distant, the fire of the warrior grew in Martin's eyes. Guided by Emalet's excellent directions the small party was able to shave weeks off their travel time. Even so it was approaching mid-summer when Martin gazed on the lands of his birth. The flat lands devoid of trees and vegetation with outcroppings of rock scattered here and there offered little in the way of shelter from the blazing sun. The nights were cold and windswept and caused the Redwallers to huddle together in an effort to keep themselves warm.

Finally the party came to the banks of a river. It would have been a mighty watercourse had the spring been normal, but as it was the water level was drastically reduced. Smiling at their good fortune the Redwallers found an easy fording spot and continued their drive north. Two day's later Martin started recognizing sights along the riverbank. He knew they were approaching Noonvale. As customary the travelers laid down well after night had fallen. It was then that Emalet returned to the group of friends.

She landed at the edge of their camp with both welcome and disturbing news. "Martin, Skipper! Thank the fates I found you in time. Noonvale is three hours march north from here if you leave now! Sadly Rassk is almost to the valley as well. I fear he may arrive before you can."

Martin immediately leapt up. "Then there's no time to lose!" Moving swiftly to where the packs that held his armor he began unloading them. "Gonff, Skip, could you please help me get this lot on."

Emalet caught Martin's eye as his friends girded him for war. "What do you want me to do with this Martin?" The owl was holding up a small linen bag.

"Please put it in my travel pouch Emalet. I'll take care of that myself."

Shortly thereafter Martin stood in his full battle armor. The plates of steel were adorned with no decoration. They were plain and simple. Designed with battle in mind, the creature in the distant past, that had made it, had not spared any excess effort on frivolity. There was only one purpose to the armor, to protect the creature who wore it in the chaos of battle. With his shield slung over his back and his helmet in the crook of his arm he had a swift council of war with his companions while sitting around a small fire. "I will make the main assault on this Rassk character. When I have him occupied sneak behind his lines Skip and then you and the crew will let them have it. Gonff, Columbine, sling away on the first volley, but then start freeing the slaves. If Skipper gets in trouble he may need swift reinforcements."

"How do you know the slaves will fight?" asked Columbine.

Martin gripped the hilt of the sword at his side tight as he answered. "Some might not Columbine. Those who have been prisoner long enough to accept their lot for instance. But others, I'm sure, will be waiting for a chance to strike back. It's up to you and Gonff to ensure we have that ready means of fresh troops." Martin stood up and addressed the entire war party. "Hear me now. You have traveled with me this long journey away from Redwall. I tell you now we are within three hours of our destination. We go to stand as a barrier for those who cannot stand for themselves. Those we face are as evil as any horde of vermin we have faced before. They will not ask for, nor give any quarter. It is up to us to ensure they don't EVER have the opportunity to enslave another free beast as long as the seasons run their course. You know your duties, and I am confident you will all do them well!" Loud cheers met Martin's words.

Columbine then came up to the armored mouse. While he had been speaking she had reached into the Warriors travel pouch and pulled out the token from Noonvale. Without a word she attached it in its proper place on Martin's armor. Martin looked down at the thing. Glancing up to Columbine he gave a quick nod of acceptance and satisfaction. He then placed the helmet on his head. Unslinging his shield from behind his back he gripped it on his left arm. "From here on out we march in silence. Onward to Noonvale!"

Three hours later Martin was marching quickly through the dark woods by himself. He had given the others their instructions and they had left to carry them out. Up ahead Martin could see the glow of a small campfire. Reaching the spot he found the site deserted, but clear tracks were running to the north and the valley rim was plain in the dying light of the remaining embers. Martin followed the tracks until he too came to the edge of Noonvale.

Through the lightning now flickering above him he again gazed down into the valley he had left so long ago. Between the trees he caught glimpse of a lone cloaked figure dashing towards the line of what must be the Silent Slavers. Martin started down the bluffs, after the figure as it bellowed out a challenge he could not hear due to the hot wind that had just arisen. Seeing the figure cut down two rats Martin couldn't help but be impressed by the creatures courage. His pride turned to shock as he saw the masked fox confront the figure. Martin drew his sword as he pounded down the slope drawing nearer and nearer. He only paused an instant to duck the flying blade the masked fox had sent flying from the paw of the cloaked one. Martin looked at the blade, and fresh waves of his sense of duty came to him at the sight of it. Lowering the visor on his helmet, he turned back just as the black armored fox swung his sword high for the finishing blow. Martin put on an extra burst of speed and flung his sword before him expertly.

Clang!

It had the desired effect. The masked one's blade had been blocked and given Martin a few more extra and precious seconds to run the final distance as his enemy stared in wonder at his sword. Martin arrived on the scene like the thunder echoing around the vale.

Bringing the shield on his arm up in a great arc, the Warrior bashed it straight into the face of Rassk driving him back a full twenty paces. Grabbing his blade out of the refuge wall in the same movement, Martin twisted his sword in a quick circle and stood ten paces away facing the black armored fox, his red cape fluttering in the wind. Suddenly lighting split the sky all around them.

CRAAAAACK! BOOOOM!!

White-hot bolts of energy circled around the two swordsbeasts lighting the dry grass on fire as it did. The lightning continued along the ground leaving a wide circle of growing flames around the combatants. They were lost to view as the fire grew higher and higher about them.

Martin didn't hear the thunder. With the warrior spirit of his ancestors rising in him, he faced his opponent. Martin took a classic ready stance, shield held up before him, blade pointing at Rassk, standing on the balls of his footpaws, legs shoulder width apart. Rassk was in the same position across the small arena of fire they were now locked into.

Their first few strikes were quick fast blows of their swords and shields, more intended to probe the other one for any weaknesses than to cause any real damage. A few swift slashes of the sword caught either on shield rim or sword hilt and then the two would back off and start circling each other again. Rassk could already tell he was dealing with one who knew all the secrets of the art of the blade. Disengaging, yet again from Martin, with a flourish Rassk raised his sword into a salute position with his right paw. Martin was almost surprised that a vermin would demonstrate such blade manners and returned the gesture. He too had become aware of his adversary's obvious skills with a sword.

As the flames around them grew higher still, the real battle began. Rassk leapt forward and stabbed at Martin's face. Martin quickly spun away to the right of the attack and brought his own sword up to slash at Rassk's head. The fox ducked into a kneeling position and swiped at Martin's feet, but only cleaved thin air as the Warrior jumped over the sword blade. Martin swung his sword down at Rassk only to have his weapon turned by a swift block of Rassk's shield. Rassk stabbed up only to see Martin bring his shield into play once more and bat away the lunging blade. For the second time Martin's shield rim made heavy contact with the iron mask on Rassk's face, sending him flying head over tail towards the edge of the flames.

Martin did not press his advantage. Instead he waited for Rassk to stop flailing around and look back up at him. "Get up," was all Martin said.

Rising swiftly to his footpaws Rassk came in swinging. Martin was ready for him. Parry met thrust, slash met shield, slice met lunge as the two fenced their way around in the circle of fire. The swords of the Slaver and Warrior moving so fast it seemed the pommel stones left red and green patterns over the liquid silver of the sword blades.

Rassk was about to start in on a complex combination of movements, but Martin was quicker. As Rassk came at him the Warrior raised his shield to chest height and drove straight into Rassk with it. The collision caused Rassk to waves his limbs wildly trying to regain his balance. Martin quickly swung his sword and sent Rassk's sword paw flying behind his back. Rassk was able to hold onto his weapon but just barely. Kicking out with his right leg, the greave on Martin's shin made sudden impact to the back of Rassk's knee. That and another shove of the Warrior's shield caused Rassk to fall backwards again. Using the momentum of his fall Rassk rolled backwards over his shoulder and came to rest in a crouch hiding behind his shield sword ready to stab upwards. Martin though had stayed where he was a few paces away. His voice was as cold and hard as the steel in his gauntleted paw. "Stand, and face a true Warrior vermin. I am Martin, the Warrior of Redwall. Remember that name in the time you have left before my sword sends you to Hellgates."

Rassk called on every trick he knew to find a way to defeat the Warrior Mouse. Try as he would though he could not escape the flashing steel of the star-metal blade or the pounding shield the Warrior was using as much as an offensive weapon as his sword. Soon Rassk's armor was dented in many places from the unyielding shield rim and had several long deep scratches from the keen edge of Martin's blade. Rassk had yet to make a mark on Martin's shining armor.

Round and round the flaming circle the two blademasters dueled. Martin took and stayed on the offense. He knew his enemy was almost equal to him in battle skill, so he chose the most simple of tactics; the best defense is a good offense. By continuously attacking with both sword and shield Martin was able to keep Rassk off balance. Martin also knew how to use his own sword to the fullest of its abilities. Whereas Rassk only fought with the actual blade of his weapon, Martin used all parts of his to score crushing blows to his foe. The quillions of the hilt and the red pommel stone were also being used to pummel more damage into his rival.

Rassk knew he was outclassed. Try as he could there was no way to penetrate the defenses of the hot-eyed Warrior facing him. Rassk was given further evidence of the Warrior's skill as Martin's next set of sword strokes rained down on the bruised fox. Battering his sword aside, the mouse swung his blade inward and caught the inside rim of Rassk's shield causing it to fly out perpendicular from him. The Warrior let the momentum of the swipe carry him into a spin on the spot. The Warrior's own shield came whipping around with tremendous force and smashed into the newly unguarded paw of Rassk that gripped his shield. Rassk felt all feeling leave his paw as his shield thudded to the ground. Rassk was barely able to bring his own sword back up time to block a downward slice of the Warrior's blade.

The constant battering of the mouse was having another effect on the fox. Rassk's limbs grew more and more leaden as the duel went on. His reaction times became slower and as a result more and deeper cuts were riven into his black armor. The jagged edges of the tears in his armor caused many small abrasions to Rassk that caused him much discomfort as he tried to block Martin's blade.

Martin could tell he was winning. With his fierce warrior blood coursing in his veins he drove his enemy backwards. Striking blow upon blow Martin began to see chips hacked out of the fox's blade. With a tremendous swing of his sword Martin sheared Rassk's sword off at the hilt. The massive force of the impact caused Rassk to again go flying head over tail to the ground. By some random chance Rassk's footpaw kicked Martin's swordpaw and sent the unmarked sword spinning high into the air. Landing heavily on his back Rassk saw his chance. He reached under a gauntlet for a hidden knife intent on driving it up and under Martin's breastplate. Rassk swiftly lunged as Martin, staggering back after the blow, had his eyes on the sword spinning above his head.

A/N; I spent more time proofreading and editing this chapter than any of the previous ones. It's taken me the better part of a week to get it to a place I was happy with. If you think all the extra effort was worth it, please leave a comment. As I've said before I do take your comments seriously. As an example in my original draft Martin didn't use his shield nearly as much as he does in the final version during the duel. The positive feedback I got on the shield from the Chapter 2 reviews made me write in more action with Martin's shield. I can't promise you I will use all of your suggestions, because I do still have a very clear direction of where the story is going next, but there is room for suggestion.

Hopefully the next chapter won't take as long to get right. Though it has been scrapped and completely rewritten twice now. We'll just have to see.