Disclaimer: I own only Mariel of Redwall, Martin the Warrior, Marlfox, Doomwyte, Tribes of Redwall Badgers and Bellmaker. If I owned it I'd live there. Sigh blocks of italic text are flashbacks, lines are thoughts.
Chapter Ten: Oath
The dancing had come to a temporary pause, as the engagement ceremony took place. Lawd, looking handsome but rather embarrassed in his finery, stuttered through the appropriate words as he placed a slender golden band on Prim's claw. "Through Dark, danger, death and despair, through a hard and evil day, I swear I shall always be here, to defend you if I may."
She repeated the couplet, slipping an identical ring onto his paw.
"Why don't they just do the wedding now?" Keyla muttered to Celandine.
"They need to plan everything! The flowers, the food, the guests, the clothes- ooh, I would love to plan a wedding someday!"
Keyla muttered under his breath about females, squirrels in paticular, which he would never understand. A paw tapped him on the shoulder and he cam face to face with an otter his age. "G'day. Name's Houstun Streambattle. What are you called?"
"Keyla."
"Keyla what?"
"Keyla of Noonvale."
The other one sighed, and altered his tone as if talking to an infant. "Your tail name. Are you a Wildlough? How about a Streambattle, like me?"
"I don't have one."
Houstun's eyeborws raised high. He looked Keyla over carefully, noting his sling make and lingering on his paws. "I see," he muttered. He hissed, sharp intake of breath as he examined Keyla's face. "It can't be-"
His expression changed and he swept off without a word.
"Father, there's a Halfbreed here."
"A Halfbreed? Here?"
"Over there, the blue tunic."
"The female?"
"No, the male. Doesn't know 'is tail name and 'is sling's squirrel made. And his paws- partially webbed. And he looks like-"
"Never speak his name again!"
"Excuse me, what's a Halfbreed?"
Both otters looked down at a young mouse with brown eyes, failing to notice the indignant expression stamped on his face.
"A Halfbreed is a disgrace! Part sea otter, part river otter. Those sea otters are a wild lot, not to be trusted! A child of mine was foolish enough to run off with that wild lot, and I bet the pair of them is dead or worse!"
"How can you speak like that about your own child?"
"You're too young to understand, mouseling. Sea otters are dangerous, playing around in those big ships. Pah!"
"But you use boats."
"There is a big difference between a ship and a boat! His father was a finagle-"
"Sir!" Brome was usually a calm mouse, but even he had his limits. "I shall not have you speak of my friend that way. Apologize at once."
The pair stared at him, aghast. "You would associate with such a rascal?"
"I call him friend. He has saved my life, and there are none here I would rather have my back in a fight."
"You are young, so I shall excuse you. You do not know Satai's tale, so I shall forgive you." He leaned in close. "Trouble follows these Halfbreeds like bees to honey! All have bad luck, those close to them dying or worse. I would watch my tail if I were you."
Brome found he had nothing to say to such an eerie warning and could only splutter and watch as the pair walked off.
***
"How is he?"
Aryah looked up, relief evident in her features. "He will be fine. He shall need to remain here for a day or so but he will recover."
Urran Voh's eyes opened. "Aryah?" he gasped.
"I'm here, Urran."
"I need to speak to Barkjon. Please bring him here."
The old squirrel was brought in. Urran Voh took a breath and began to speak. "I was wrong to not listen to you, Rowanoak and Ballaw. I am sorry."
"It was a simple mistake. You were not expected to know."
"You told me. I should have listened."
Aryah shooed Barkjon away. "He needs to rest!"
The squirrel left.
Time to return to duty.
***
Dawn's rosy light found three tired Dibbuns- exhausted, hungry, and lost.
"Dis is all you fault, Gonf'et," Ivy muttered, "We shoulda jus' stolen scones fwom da kicthen."
"Yoo fweaked out at da skider and ran away. We had to fowwow you! Dat's not my fault!"
"You an' Chugga put da skider in my fur!" Ivy accused petulantly, "I tired, I hungry, I wanna go home!"
With that dramatic statement, she promptly burst into tears.
"Look what you did, Gonf'et," the squirrelbabe accused, "I told you it was a bad idea."
"Not my fault she got mad!"
"She's a girl."
"Girls are gwoss," Gonflet stated.
"Here now, what's three little 'uns like you doing out here all by yourselves?"
Startled, the trio turned- even Ivy, who tried to wipe away her tears.
A big, friendly-looking male otter stood in the foilage behind them. He was about 35 winters old, yet his eyes were old as the ancient sun shining down upon them, made to look older by the kindness and honour shining out of them.
Chugger, strongly reminded of Folgrim, stepped up without fear only to be upstaged by Ivy.
"We is lost, mista," she said, with hints of a sob in her voice, "I tired and hungwy and Gonf'et put a skider in my fur!"
The otter, won over, picked her up gently. "Did 'e now? Guess we have to talk to his parents. Where are you three from, anyways?"
"Redhall Abbey."
Jeod shifted uncomfortably. "Redhall? You mean the big red-stone buildin' that's being erected?"
"Yes. Only we is losted. I is Ivy, dat bees Gonf'et-" here she paused to stick her tongue out at said Dibbun "-and he Chugga. Pwease, Mista, can you take us home?"
The otter hesitated. He had never much liked being around other people, save his family. A big community like that Abbey . . . but no, he had to do what was best for the Dibbuns.
He set off at a brisk pace. "Come on, follow me. I know the way."
"What'cha name?"
His heart gave a wrench. The inquisitive voice brought back painful memories . . .
"Unca Jeed, why does Farder kiss Mama? Does she taste nice?"
Jeod laughed, unable to help himself. "No, it's- um, ah, why don't you ask your mother, look, there she is now!"
The Dibbun obligingly leapt off his lap. "Mommy, why do you kiss Daddy?"
She blinked, taken by surprise. She looked at Jeod who shrugged. "Um, well-"
The Dibbun screwed his snout up in disgust. "It's ok Mama, you don't have to tell me if you don't know."
"The name's Jeod, little 'un. Jeod Streambattle."
***
Cold. Freezing, swirling ice. Can't see. Cold. Where- where am I?
"I think he's beginning to come around!"
Throbbing pain. Head . . . hurts.
"What air we goin' tae do? Wot's to stop 'im from chargin' on deck again like 'e did last time?"
Charging? Are they talking about me?
"The chains. Doubly done this time. Not even a badger in bloodwrath could snap both of them."
"So you say. What if'n 'e goes postal again?"
Postal? Me? Only time I did that was when those clods called my son a disgra-
Son. Redeye. Whip. Screams. Maris. Oh Var'ryn, Maris!
"Dell, shut up! He's coming around!"
Gammage's bloodshot brown eyes flew open. "Maris?" His voice was a choking gasp, filled with desperate hope.
Burdock's eyes radiated sorrow as she placed a paw on his shoulder, as high as she could reach. What could she say? 'I'm sorry your wife was killed by evil corsairs and, since you asked, her corpse was thrown over board for the sharks and who knows what else? Remind me to stop by at the funeral sometime next millennium.'
That simple gesture told him all. Memory flooded back.
The whipping, the screams, the corsairs standing and watching with glee, the screams, the blood, the screams, the chains biting into his paws and the heart-wrenching, mind-ripping, soul-shattering, blood-freezing screams.
And, above all, that fox's malevolent laughter.
By Dark Forest, he would pay.
Burdock had expected him to sob, or scream, or something. What he did instead?
Sat up and began rowing methodically. "Gammage?" she asked tentatively. He did not reply, or even acknowledge her.
Dell shot her a loaded look. "Leave 'im be, lassie. He's mourning in 'is own way." The squirrel's eyes, young as they were, emitted understanding. "E's been hurt tae badly to cry. Only revenge is left tae him. By the Western Woods, I'd 'ate to be that fox. Someday, the last thing he'll ever hear will be that 'un's battle yell."
***
"Columbine, have you checked the orchards yet?"
The mousewife sighed. "A thousand times! That settles it, they must have left the Abbey!"
"Has the infirmary been checked?"
"Yes! They must be gone!"
Gonff groaned in frustration. "Where's Skipper when ye need him?" In truth, Skipper of Otters had left with his tribe for the first hullabaloo since Greeneye's arrival in Mossflower. Only Folgrim had remained behind, preferring quiet Abbey life.
Folgrim gave a joyful shout. "I can see 'em! They're fine!"
Jeod and the Dibbuns emerged from the trees. Upon seeing Redwall, the Dibbuns eagerly surged ahead, dragging a reluctant Jeod along behind them.
Bella nodded to the otter. "Thank you for returning our young ones safely to us. I am Bella of Brockhall. What is your name?"
"My name's Jeod Streambattle. I live a ways out in Mossflower Woods. Best be getting back, I guess." He began to edge back, but Ivy grabbed his paw, wide blue eyes looking up at Bella.
"Can he stay at da Habbey? Pwease?"
"I don't know, Ivy- he has a home already."
The brown eyes drooped . . . so like her eyes . . . such a rich shade of chocolate . . .
"If'n ye'd have me, marm, I guess I don't mind," he muttered shyly. Ivy's face lit up like a firefly. She grabbed his wrist and began to drag him inside.
"Come on, Mista Jeed. We gorra show yoo da whowe h'abbey!"
***
For what seemed like the thousandth time Keyla ran his paw across his dagger, oiling it, freeing it of grime.
The thing that made them all feel better was that a legion of Long Patrol hares were leaving for Noonvale in less than five minutes, the same time they were leaving for Redwall.
He looked absently to the other four questers, laughing and talking to the Long Patrol. From what Sunflash had told them about Martin's previous visit, and what Skarlath knew of the terrain, it would be dangerous trip.
A trip in which three would die.
Keyla silently swore to himself that he would not let anything happen to the others while he had breath. Loyal Grumm, kind-hearted Celandine, gentle Brome, and Tullgrew.
He owed them that much, for taking him in, being his friend, and, in Tullgrew's case, saving his life.
The least he could do was try to return the favor.
Hint: Click the green button. Please?