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Sultana of North

III. Chapter II

One Last Day of Peace

Fyre brushed away the charred and blackened evidence of last night's campfire as Gralvine shouldered his pack and tucked his cutlass into his belt. The clan chief rose. " There is nothing left to show from our stay here, Gralvine?" Fyre's second in command answered carefully. " No, Chief, the scraps from our meals have been burned, the arrows collected and cleaned, and the ground swept smooth." Fyre nodded. " Very good. Who is our best tracker?" The other fox beckoned to a lithe rat a color between gray and black with a full green quiver and black-dyed bow strapped to his back. The rat approached the chief and Gralvine, then bowed to the former. " Yesss, Milord?" His voice was a low hiss, making a chill descend upon the listeners. Barely loud enough to be heard, and Fyre answered in an equally low voice, " You must find the vixen. You need to." The rat nodded. " Asss you wisshh, Milord. I sshall." Nobeast had any doubt he could fail.

It was morning, bright and gentle, that saw Brother Juniper hurry down to Sultana. " What splendid morn! " He beamed happily. " The Redwallers have decided to trust you, Sultana! You are accepted here! Of course there where a few skeptical ones, like the Colonel and Mr. Spike… Oh dear, I smell breakfast being made, let us hurry before the great Colonel flop-eared glutton begins filling himself in the kitchen. The Friar will need all the help he can get!"

Sultana loved the kitchen instantly. She was wreathed in the delicious aromas as she helped the Friar put a tray of oatcakes into the oven.

At that moment, Terrin strutted in, sniffing the air. "What ho, Thyme old chap, what tuck are y' cookin' on this jolly mornin'?" Thyme wagged his ladle in front of the Colonel's nose. "It is not tuck, it is oatcakes!" Terrin de Smythewhyte dipped his left ear low. "Is that all the bally scoff yer makin' fer a starvin' troop of Redwallers, old pal?" Thyme scowled. " There will also be blackberry and young crystallized maple leaf pancakes, strawberries with preserved damsons, and warm mint tea!"

He turned from the hare and removed the top from a jar of damsons preserved in honey. The Colonel dipped his paw in a bowl of crystallized maple leaves and ate a few. The Friar turned at the sound of chewing and munching. " You rabbit! Those were for the pancakes! You ate them!" Terrin adopted an expression of ruined dignity, with crumbs clinging to his whiskers and a maple leaf stuck to his nose. " I, steal them? Never 'ave I been so falsely accused of such base actions! Never, sah- whoa, steady in the ranks there!" The Friar swelled in outrage, waving his ladle. "Out! You stealer of innocent abbey dweller's breakfasts, out, I say!"

The observing Redwallers fell about laughing as the furious Friar chased Terrin out of the kitchens. Sultana dried her eyes, teary from laughter, watching Juniper lean against a table, laughing helplessly. " Hehehoho! Did you see the-hehehe! Look on the feedbag's- hahaha-face when the Friar went at him with, hehehoho, the ladle!"

The friar returned, puffing and indignant, as a small mole stirred blackberries into the pancake mixture. Brother Juniper hid his laughter by concentrating on adding more wood to the fire for the ovens, and Sultana removed the hot oatcakes from the ovens and laid them on a table to cool. Their delicious aroma floated around her, unlike anything she had ever smelled before. Friar Thyme straightened his hat, which had tilted to a far angle as he had chased off Terrin, then laid the preserved damsons alongside the strawberries on a tray.

Afterwards, breakfast was served. Sultana was again seated between Juniper and Thyme, but the Colonel was at the far end of the table, far from the Friar. More than a few Abbey dwellers seemed sincerely glad that Sultana was to stay, and greeted her as she passed. Now, feeling cheerful, she helped herself to some of the generous fare.

She nearly choked at the sight of Terrin de Smythewhyte. The hare was behind an extraordinarily tall stack of pancakes, honey and blackberry sauce cascading down it's sides, and piled high with honey comb, strawberries and preserved damsons. The tips of the hare's ears were the only bits of him visible from the stack, and one had honey comb stuck in it. His arm appeared from around his pancakes and reached for the basket of oatcakes. Brother Juniper saw the hare, and he gradually turned a bright shade of red from suppressed laughter at the sight. The Friar was too absorbed in pouring sauce on his pancakes to notice either of his friend's odd actions.

After breakfast, the fox and Juniper left the Great Hall for the abbey grounds. they were sitting in the orchard, with sunlight dappling the ground around them. Sultana asked the Brother, "Is it always so peaceful here? Excepting the times I have been told about." She added hastily. Juniper chuckled. "Oh, we have had wars before, though not for many seasons, and yes, we are peaceful and wish no harm to anybeast." Sultana smiled." It must be nice to live here." Juniper sighed. "Yes, it is, it is…" he trailed off, and his head drooped down, into sleep.

Later that day saw Sultana in tall grass. Brother Juniper had left to his duties in the Infirmary, and had sent Prudence, a mole named Durrley, a young squirrel known as Oakflower, and an abbey Sister, Violet to bring him some herbs and plants he had needed. Sultana had decided to come with them, because of her knowledge of such things.

Sister Violet tucked a sprig of mint into her basket. "Well, my basket is full, so I'll start laying out the food the Friar had persuaded us to bring." Prudence nodded. "Good. Picking herbs is tough work!" She said, laughing. Durrley begged to differ. "Hurr, hurr, et be no harder'n layin' out in th' broight sunshoine on a summer day!" Oakflower and Sultana laughed. "Right you are, Durrley, right you are!" The squirrel agreed. Sultana pulled a plant out by it's roots as she joined in the merry conversation. Sister Violet spread a checkered cloth out on the grass and placed a still-warm bowl of honey out on it, along with some oatcakes, gooseberry jam and a bottle of strawberry fizz as the creatures sat down to enjoy the good food that was laid out in front of them.

Visgar Fyre watched as the sinewy dark rat, Shlavvo Darkkedaie, removed an arrow from his quiver and traced around something unseen with it's tip. Then the rat looked up at the treetops, and a small, grim smile of satisfaction crept across his face, but leaving his black, expressionless eyes untouched. He proceeded with his tracking, like a shadow and darkly silent. The troops followed him, Fyre and Gralvine, yet all but the chief afraid of Shlavvo. The rat dusted a bruised leaf with the feather of his arrow, then he turned away, and continued on a different trail, flitting through the wood, with the clan following behind him.

Brother Juniper accepted the five baskets from Sultana, saying as he did so, " Good, good, plenty of herbs, exactly what I needed. " An expression of confusion spread across his features as he inspected a green leafy plant from Sultana's basket. " What is this, Sultana? I do not believe I have ever seen it before." Sultana answered, " A sort of plant, if the leaves are crushed, is good to use on cuts and bruises." The Brother nodded. "I do not doubt you, but I must say…" He trailed off. Sultana grinned. "I learned about it during my years with the clan." Juniper placed it in a jar, and continued to sort out the contents from the other baskets.

Sultana glanced nervously out a small, round window, half expecting the Phantom Swords to come marching out into the open. But of course they did not. Fyre was too clever to do that. Tonight she had to leave. She would leave in secret before dawn, gathering a small supply of food and drink, then she would set out into the world. She would never be able to stay, not while the clan was on the hunt. And that would be until either they or she were nonexistent, or they had captured her.

The young fox hoped she would never have to face Fyre, but it seemed inevitable. While Fyre lived, there would be no safety for anybeast, anywhere. She needed to keep the abbey safe from harm, and that meant leaving it. An abbey full of peace-loving creatures would be no obstacle to the wicked clan chief; he had dealt with that sort countless times. This was merely more creatures and a bigger building. What did that matter?

She was startled from her reverie by Brother Juniper. " Ahh, how the day has flown by us! Lunch over, and supper is nearing. What a day. If you do not mind, my friend, I shall take a nap, as my duties are finished…" He yawned and moved to a heavily cushioned armchair.

Sultana was helping Friar Thyme down in the kitchens. She had decided that the kitchen was one of her favorite places in the abbey. It was full of delicious smells, and food she had never even dreamed of in all her seasons. She found herself not a bad cook. She actually was almost good. Sultana placed a tray of chestnut biscuits that Thyme had made into an oven.

Friar Thyme was pleased. He could not help but be pleased. The young fox he had befriended the day before was a good assistant in the kitchens, and funny, too. She had done quite a good impression of the great feedbag Colonel, and thank goodness Terrin did not turn up at that moment. He spread honey on the crust of a warm loaf fresh from an oven, contemplating. Tonight's dessert would be good, for sure. Prudence always made delicious trifles. And the pudding he needed to make…but never mind. He knew he could trust Sultana with the biscuits that were now in the ovens, and also probably the tomato soup, which was now simmering away over a fire.

Sultana sampled a biscuit, being careful not to burn herself on the tray. It was truly delicious, much tastier than the hard, crumbly ones she was used to. She gave the soup a quick stir, seeing the Friar busy with the bread. Everything smelled amazing, and for a moment the fox took in all the scents about her. The aromas from the biscuits, the soup, and the bread wafted through the air.

Dinner was wonderful. Sultana ate heartily, preparing for the long and seemingly endless journey ahead of her. Terrin was now seated beside Waterweed, his ear dipping and waving as he chatted happily away, about food, naturally. Thyme was beaming happily as he sat down next to Sultana, gazing at the food he had prepared, now spread on the table. "Mmm, yes. The soup came out tasty." Commented the Friar as he sampled some of the tomato soup. Sultana agreed. Terrin's ear waved airily about. "I say, otter gel, the flippin' scoff is very much t'my jolly likin'" Waterweed smiled. "Good, Colonel. Did you try the biscuits? Very good, here, do have some…" the otter handed the apparently starving hare the basket.

Sultana turned back to her plate. The hare was an irrepressible creature, always looking for more food.

After dinner, dessert was served. A large tray of trifles and a magnificent pudding piled high with preserved and candied fruits, honeycomb, meadowcream and candied nuts were laid out on the table. Sultana's mouth was almost watering at the smells of the delicious desserts. The Friar beamed hugely, and Terrin said, his ear dipping deeply, "What a jolly pudd, I say, chaps! And the bally trifles are truly scrumptious lookin', wot, wot!"

'Magnificent pudd' hardly summed it up. The pudding was absolutely spectacular, and the trifles were delicious. Sultana took a large serving of pudding, much to the Friar's delight, and helped herself to a trifle. That night was, for Sultana, truly unforgettable. Her last day of peace was a good one. A wonderful one.

Shlavvo Darkkedaie traced another mark with his arrow. Night had fallen, and yet the tracker rat continued as if it were day. It was a moonless night, and the forest was still and silent. Fyre followed his tracker, the silent and wraith-like rat. Shlavvo was a mysterious creature, like a malignant shadow flitting darkly through the wood. His arrows were dyed red, and his bow was colored black. Tracking was natural for him, and he used the skill well. Shlavvo appeared beside the clan chief. " Milord, ssshe hasss gone thisss way. It iss in the direction of Redwall Abbey, sssir." He bowed slightly, and drifted back to his trail.

Fyre nodded. Redwall Abbey. He had heard of it before, an unconquerable place. Bah! Those who tried to take over and failed were weak. None knew half as much as himself when it came to deception. He allowed a small smile curl the corners of his mouth. None. He was the ruler of the Phantom Swords. He was Visgar Fyre!

Sultana wrapped herself in her warm blanket. Redwall Abbey was a place of peace and plenty, of friends and happiness, of serenity and tranquility. And she was going to keep it that way. She nestled herself deep into the comfortable bed, with clean, soft white sheets, and a soft pillow…She dropped off into a deep, dreamless sleep…

Visgar Fyre called halt that night. "Tonight we will rest, for the night grows old, and we shall begin again tomorrow. Tomorrow we shall take up our hunt." The clan lay thankfully down upon the rich undergrowth of the forest, and instantly fell asleep, but Fyre lay awake, an unquenchable fire burning in his eyes. The vixen would be caught. And he would not stop searching until she was found.

Chapter III

The Journey North

Coming April 26th!

Author's Note: thank you for reading! Next chapter, Fyre, Shlavvo, Gralvine and the clan continue on their hunt, Sultana leaves the Abbey, and sets off for the North. I would really, really appreciate it if you reviewed, as this is my first fanfic and love any sort of constructive criticism!