OK, now things really heat up. Introduction of a major storyline. Longest chappie yet, angst, etc. Enjoy, Zaran!
Chapter Four: Dark Wave
It was quiet. The last golden rays of the sun faded as night fell on the Western Sea. In the slavehold of the corsair ship Dark Wave, a brawny sea otter had no choice but to relive his memories.
Had he lived, his son would have been 15 winters old today. Brown eyes filled with tears of rage as he recalled the catastrophe he had brought onto his family . . .
I laughed as I wiped the blood off my swords with a rag, looking at the vermin that floated in the water. They'd never bother innocent creatures again. I felt a small paw tugging on mine and I smiled. Speak of the Ribbajack. "Farder, wet me twy!" a young voice pleaded. My heart swelled with pride as I turned to my son.
"Alrighty mate, let's see if'n ye can carry these yet." I pressed my sword into his paw. He wrinkled his nose.
"Bof of dem!" he begged. I gave in and handed him the other one. I hid a smile as he strained, trying to wield both blades with a single paw each. He got them about an inch of the deck. "I . . . nearwy . . . gorrit . . . whoa!" He toppled backwards and hit the deck. He sighed. "Guess I is too wikkwe," he muttered.
I smiled, reclaimed my swords and sheathed them, then picked up my offspring. "It's not your age that matters, Kay, nor you size or physical strength, or even your mental prowess. It's what's in here that matters," I said, placing my paw on his chest, "What you believe you can do and what you trust in." I pointed to the sky over head, where the stars were coming out. "See that star?"
"Da bwight one?"
"Yes. It's the smallest of all the stars."
He looked at me, cerulean eyes wide. "Da smawwest? But-"
"Do you know why that's my favorite star, Kay?" He shook his head.
"Because it's the brightest star. It doesn't let its size affect its light, or anything else." He stared at the bright point of light. The countless stars of heaven's field were mirrored in his eyes.
"Gammage!" Maris, my wife, came over. "You know it's Kay's bed time!"
"But I don' wanna go to . . . *yawn* bed!"
Maris shook her head and gently took our son and carried him down to his bed. We tucked him in. Just as I swept out of the room, his sleepy voice called after me. "Farder?"
"What is it, Kay?"
"When I gwow up, I wanna be jus' like oo'."
I smiled. "Good night, Kay."
I awoke when the door to my cabin slammed open. I sat up in astonishment as Seapaw, my steersbeast, stumbled in, a black-fletched arrow protruding from his chest. "Seapaw, what-"
He fell to his knees, gasping. "Redtide . . . Goreleech . . . many vermin . . ." his breath rattled and he went limp.
I pulled on a tunic and strapped on my swords. Maris was already dressed. "Maris, get to Kay. He's the only one on the ship who can't wield a sword." I offered her one of my swords, but she shook her head. "Maris,you have to."
"I don't want to kill anything- not while I have a choice."
Sounds of battle reached me. "I don't have time for this. Just make sure nothing happens to Kay and yourself." I raced on deck and threw myself into the fray. I saw them. A pine marten and the stoat. They must hate me bad if they actually stopped fighting among themselves long enough to attack me. I saw the pine marten, Zounzdisommat or other, working her way with the others to the door leading below decks. Maris! Kay! I hurled myself at them, screaming like a bunyip.
They had expected it and began fighting me all at once. I saw an opening and swung at the pine marten's head.
Too late I heard the paw step behind me. The next thing I knew was blackness.
Gammage Galedeep futily tugged at his chains, an action often repeated over the past 13 winters. He could feel Maris behind him. "What did we do wrong, Maris?" he whispered brokenly, "How did we let this happen?"
"If only I had used a sword-"
"No, it's my fault. I wasn't smart enough. I should 'ave guessed that they'd attack us next. It was my mistake and we all paid the price." Tears trickled down his cheeks. "Especially Kay."
"Ach, stop blaming yerself ye wetblanket," ordered a voice with a heavy Highland accent, "Thair was nothin' ye could 'ave done."
"I should have gone to protect Kay myself. Then maybe he-"
"We don't know for sure, Gammage. We don't know if he lived or died," Maris said.
"I'd give anything to know that he was alive and safe- my very life, even."
"Alive or dead, blaming yourself won't get us anywhere," a young mouse named Burdock said.
"Aye, the young'un's right. Don't blame yerself."
"Young 'un? Dell, you're not that much older than I am."
The squirrel sighed. "Ah wish ye'd ferget that already!"
Gammage turned to Maris, seated behind him, ignoring the bantering friends. "Maris, I swear- that fox will die by my blade. Then that stoat. And the pine marten. Then I won't rest until I find my son."
She reached forward as far as she could and touched his paw. "Where you go, I go."
Gammage looked out through the tiny porthole at the sky, his eyes landing on the smallest star of all. By far the brightest. Kay, please be alright, where ever you are.
***
Then the thrower of javelins- my words thou shalt heed,
Freed slave from Marshank, your presence we need."
"If anyone else thinks that this line gets more infuriating by the minute, raise yer paw!" There was a show of paws, quickly lowered at Urran Voh's stern gaze. "A bit of light-heartedness isn't gonna hurt any- in fact, I think it'd help." Urran Voh shook his head at the young otter, but said nothing else.
"I vote we skip it and move on," Celandine said.
"We can narrow it down a little," Keyla said, Freed slave from Marshank- that kicks out about 7/8ths of the populace. And is there anybeast here who uses javelins?"
"About all of the Fur and Freedom Fighters, old lad," Ballaw said grimly.
"Not all of the Fur and Freedom Fighters escaped from Marshank," pointed out Tullgrew.
"Either ways, it's a dead end. Let's leave it for later," Barkjon said.
"Lastly, the strong, loyal digger of rows, A great friend to Rose- in his heart still she grows."
"Huh, this one's easy!" Urran Voh said, "A digger is a mole. It could only be Grumm."
The mole stood and tugged on his snout. "Hurr, oi bees ready to go when you'm ees."
"Not yet," Keyla said grimly, "There's one more stanza:
"Tarry not, continue on your way
When two have fallen in the land without rain,
Beware the little folk, flee away,
Do not trust their sweet refrain.
One more shall be lost at the River Moss,
An expense to Stormfin but to thee a gain.
"I don't know about you guys, but I don't think that sounds good. The land without rain is probably a desert, but who in the name of D- erm, fur and fire knows what little folk are?"
"Your guess is as good as mine, Keyla," Urran Voh said, "Who knows what will happen?"
"And we still need another quester," Rowanoak pointed out.
"Worry about it later. We'd better get a defense up for Noonvale. What's the good of going on a quest if there's going to be nothing to save?"
2 Days later
Tullgrew was tired. Exhaustion seeped through her muscles as she tried to get the tree trunk in place. Suddenly her strength gave way. She felt a momentary rush of panic as it started to fall back on her-
She needen't have worried. Keyla darted under the tree and righted it, muscles standing out like a coiled snake ready to strike. "I'll finish up here, Tull'. You go an' rest up."
She smiled at him and stumbled back to Noonvale, tired but proud. The wall was near completion. Keyla, Barkjon, Ballaw and Rowanoak had designed it. Tree trunks were cut down from the surrounding forest and rolled into the valley, then set in holes dug deep to firmly ground them. The branches were intwined with each other and brambles, thorns, bells- anything to dissuade or warn of vermin.
She sat on a bench next to Brome and began picking thorns and brambles from her paws. "What happened earlier, Tullgrew?"
She looked at him, confused. "Earlier?"
"When you and my dad came back from the parley with the rats, Keyla seemed . . . upset."
She told him what had happened. He stayed quiet and when she finished, he spoke slowly, as if trying to recall. "Actually, I don't think that's the first time it's happened."
"What? How- when-"
"We were trapped in the tunnel under Marshank. The entrance had collapsed and we were running out of air and the others were panicking. He pushed his way up to me and asked me what was wrong.I told him, and he just . . . . went into a rage, I guess. He flew at those rocks like they were foes to be killed, and boy," Brome shook his head, "He sure took it seriously. I couldn't see his eyes, so I can't say if it's the same thing or not."
"It could be the same thing."
"It could . . ." Brome chewed his lip thoughtfully. "I wonder if Keyla knows anything. I don't know much about his past- maybe there's a clue there."
"Just as clueless as you are, mates."
The twain jumped guiltily. Keyla materialized out of the mist and sat next to his friends, eyes unreadable. "I don't remember anything of my life before Badrang except my father dying and a few other trivial things."
"How did you feel during the parley and the tunnel incident?"
He was quiet, as if trying to recall. Then at last he spoke, a puzzled tone to his voice. "I can't recall it at all. I mean, it's there, but when I try to remember, it . . . it won't come."
He sounded downcast. Tullgrew felt pity seep into her heart. She reached over and lightly touched his paw. "It'll be alright. You'll see."
He said nothing but turned his face to the star studded sky.
***
Never had Redwall Abbey seen such a storm. Lightning flared and thunder crashed, shattering the still night like glass. It was one such blast which awoke Gonff, Prince of Mousethieves. He'd always been a light sleeper, and this storm didn't help matters any. He groaned, rolled over and tried to go back to bed.
Then he heard it. "Badrang!" What was that? He sat up, fully awake. "Badrang!" It was coming from somewhere in the Abbey, drowned by the He stood up and followed the sound. He opened the door from which the sounds emanated.
Martin was asleep, for his eyes were closed. But he was kicking, thrashing, and struggling like one in Bloodwrath. It was he who was shouting.
"I am a warrior! Martin son of Luke! I will live, I will not give in and die up here! Do you hear me, Badrang? I will live to take back my father's sword and slay you one day! Badraaaaaaaannggg!"
Gonff looked around wildly for a way to awake his friend.
Tied by my paws, I fought the storm. "Badrang! Badrang! Can you hear me? I am a warrior! Martin son of Luke! I will live, I will not give in and die up here! Do you hear me, Badrang? I will live to take back my father's sword and slay you one day! Badraaaaaaaannggg!" I shouted. Wind tore at my face.
"Martin son of Luke! Can you hear me?" I opened my mouth to respond and water filled it.
Choking and gagging, Martin came awake, disoriented. Where was Badrang? And while they were on the subject, who was Badrang in the first place? "Martin, what happened?" Gonff's worried face loomed over him. Martin sat up and noticed he was soaking wet.
"Gonff-"
"You wouldn't wake up!" Thunder chashed out side and we both jumped. "You were sleeping through that. I think you were having a nightmare."
Martin, confused, shook his head. "I don't remember anything."
"I do. You were shouting a name. Badrang."
Badrang. Martin felt a shudder of anger course through him. The name was evil. Of this he had no doubt.
Badrang. Badrang the Tyrant.