A/N: Another chapter done. Monthly updates aren't something I'm proud of, but exams give me no choice.
Jared: Veil is a character I'm quite proud of. Well, after Airan helped me rewrite his dialogue to make him more childish and less mature. He's here for a reason, of course. The canon face of the fic - you got that right! As for the letter, I should have made things more explicit. Stolen seals and feigned paw-writing make for better plot materials than two beasts trekking across Mossflower for a week. But we've all got to make do with what we've got. Finally, Taggerungs and prophecies. They are hard to write correctly, as you know all too well. But hey, I've got confidence!
Chapter 2
Weavers and Mummers
Those who dream by day are cognizant of many things which escape those who dream only by night. -Eleonora, by Edgar Allan Poe
The next morning, Kiormund went directly to Urza to ask about the Taggerung.
At first, the vixen was surprised by the otter's request. That surprise later faded into an unsubtle frustration when she realised that Dennol was the one who told Kiormund about the foretelling. Before he could ask about the mysterious warrior's identity, Urza kicked him out of her cabin, but not before the usual less-than-veiled threat to discourage him from spreading the word.
Having nothing else to do today, Kiormund leaned over the railings of the Aureous Gale, staring across the sands of the desert between Mossflower and Southsward. Within hours they would be at the first outposts of civilization, and within a day they would be at Floret. He could theoretically leap off the carrack and swim towards the shore, and make a break for Redwall. But leaving himself stranded in enemy territory soaking wet and unarmed wasn't a good idea, nor indeed was travelling miles northwards to Redwall alone.
Naturally, it did not take long for Veil to pipe up. "The plot thickens!" the ferret gleefully screeched in Kiormund's ear, almost causing the otter to trip over the railings and fall off the deck. "So the Taggerung's wandering the land again and those woodland do-gooders are none the bloody wiser of what's in store. Meanwhile, you've been taken captive on board this vessel, forced to meet your destiny. Sounds like a tale my mum would've read to me."
"What are you up to, Veil Sixclaw?"
"I'm just feeling the effects of a night of rest. Being a ghost means that I couldn't do that without being bonded to a beast, so I suppose I should thank you for that."
"I meant your earlier monologue. I didn't know you had a taste for drama. Was it something you picked up from the Abbey?"
The ferret let out a shrill laugh, before shaking his head in mockery. "The Abbey taught me nothing of use. Why give vermin tools and knowledge when all they do is hurt you in the end?"
"I apologise," replied Kiormund. "I forgot that Redwall wasn't that good of a place to live for your kind in the past. At least now things are better."
"Better, hm?" Veil cocked his head to the side. "Your foxy friend may have been properly ordained and all, but how long will she remaina Sister? It would only take some vermin band encroaching on the Abbey for the abbey's denizens to treat her with suspicion. It would be a matter of time before she'll be exiled from the Abbey - if she's lucky."
Kiormund blinked, then his face formed a scowl. "Graha has been a trusted member of the Abbey for three seasons. You think they'd turn her away now? Last time I checked, she's not a thief or a poisoner like you were. Times have changed, outcast. Maybe it's time you change too."
Veil's face contorted into an enraged expression. The ferret tried to retort with something, but his tongue was tied with surprise and rage. Without a word, he faded back into the void.
A marten shuffled next to Kiormund, coming to occupy a position on the rails near the otter. Margane's fur was a lighter shade of brown compared to her brother, but the patch of yellow on her throat and chest was shared between the siblings. "Good morning, Kiormund. I'm very sorry for being so rude yesterday. I wasn't thinking clearly."
"Morning, Margane," replied Kiormund. "Don't worry about that, it's quite all right."
"You seemed quite distressed just then," said Margane. "Almost as if you were shouting into thin air, in fact."
"It's nothing," replied Kiormund as his rudder curled up closer to his body.
Margane's snout curled up and her ears folded. "You know, you're not that good of a liar for a child of Erlend Streambattle. You're thinking of something, and that 'something' isn't good."
Kiormund tensed. Does she know about Veil? She could be the Taggerung, and Deyna did see Martin the Warrior numerous times…
"But being trapped on a ship with no escape can do that to anybeast," continued Margane, attempting a smile to cheer the otter up. After her talk yesterday with Urza, the marteness seemed to have lost her natural cheerfulness, but Kiormund was grateful for the effort.
"Yes," Kiormund said as slowly as he could, while his tail went back to its original position.. "Being trapped at sea is making me fret."
"It'll all work out in the end. Lamont the Steward's your uncle, right? He'll take care of you." Seeing Kiormund's surprised expression, Margane quickly added, "In the literal sense, I mean. He won't kill you or do something drastic like that."
"But he isn't in charge of your kingdom. Doesn't King Willem make the final decision?"
The marteness snickered at the mention of her king. "Don't mind him. The king wouldn't harm a child if he could help it. There isn't anything personal between him and your father. Besides, he'd starve to death if his advisors forgot to tell him to eat. That's what Bodvar told me, anyway."
Kiormund decided that it was a good time for a change in subject. "Speaking of Bodvar, I still don't understand how you two, er, work together." Seeing Margane's expression change, the otter realised that he had actually made the conversation more awkward, but he couldn't stop his mouth from moving. "I mean, you're probably not going to give birth to any half-marten, half-otter pups, right?"
Beneath her fur, Margane turned red.
"And after that I was given the greatest tongue-lashing of my lifetime," confessed Kiormund, earning a sincere laugh from Dennol - a first.
"I heard that! I was just being scolded by Urza about telling you about the Taggerung when I heard Margane's tirade. I hardly imagined she would be able to muster such anger, but you had to pick a sensitive topic!"
The two of them were back in their cabin, as there was nothing to do outside. Not having a printing press, Redwall didn't allow its books to leave the Abbey grounds, so the otter had left without any. Kiormund had hoped there would be a book he could read on board, but his hopes were dashed quite early on his maritime journey. Dennol even tried to teach him to play cards the day before, but the otter's rapidly magnifying losing streak meant that it was no fun for either player. Still, the marten managed to persuade Kiormund to keep playing.
"I had no idea it would be that sensitive!" exclaimed Kiormund, an indignant expression on his face as he tried to shuffle the deck, groaning as cards of all suits flew around the cabin. "All I did was ask a question."
"Some questions are best left unanswered, while others are best left unasked," said Dennol, bending down to help Kiormund pick the cards up. "Margane's affection towards her otter friend is frowned upon by many beasts, and you seemed to have kicked her in a particularly painful spot, so to speak."
"I hope she forgives me for my offence." Kiordan held his head low as his posture wilted. "What do you think of the whole affair?"
"She is a very kind beast with absolutely dreadful taste in romance," said Dennol, collecting the last card and rearranging them with more efficiency than the otter had done. "I can't really say a lot of good things about Bodvar Sparkflame. I can't really blame her though. He treated her much better than he did me."
"I meant the whole marten-otter thing. I wanted to ask your sister about that, and you know how that went."
"You know, princeling, there are much better beasts to ask," said Dennol, stopping and lifting up a claw. "Your grandfather, for one." Kiormund's oblivious stare quickly caused Dennol to groan in frustration. "Don't tell me, you've never heard of the ballad?"
Kiormund shook his head.
"I suppose I shouldn't be surprised," said Dennol, dealing the cards across the table. "It's a Southswarder song, but I don't recall its name. It's the one where Emperor Kiordan falls in love with a little ratmaid, but his Tarelian wife has her drowned."
"My grandmother would never do such a thing!" exclaimed Kiormund.
"That's the deal with ballads. They're never wholly true, but never wholly false. Besides, no Southswarder would miss a chance to vilify a Tarelian."
"Of course." Kiormund nodded, whiskers drooping. "It just doesn't feel right. Southswarders hate Tarelians and Tarelians hate Southswarders, all while they both despise vermin. Why can't they just let go of their differences? Why can't the lands just have peace?"
Dennol glowered at the otter, and Kiormund suddenly felt very small. "Because the world will never know peace as long as there's more than one beast on it. Now, time for a game."
As he slept that night, Kiormund found himself on the Redwall grounds again.
The sun had long since descended below the horizon, and stars dotted the sky. The moon above seemed to smile at him, though whether it was sincere or mocking he couldn't tell. Redwall Abbey was totally silent for the first time since Kiormund had known it. No feasting or merriment, no Dibbuns playing, no pages turning. Just an all-encompassing silence under the moonlight.
"Veil?" said Kiormund softly, feeling his fur trembling. "I know you're there. Would you please show yourself?"
"What now, riverdog?" The ferret's voice sent a shiver down Kiormund's spine as it pierced the eerie silence. "Have you come to discipline me? Teach me how to be a proper goodbeast?"
"Actually, I came here to apologise."
Veil's eyes widened. "Oh?"
"What I said earlier was rude and uncalled for. I never got to know the full side of your story, and I lost my patience."
The ferret simply stood there with his mouth open, and his eyes seemed to stare into nothingness, provoking a tap on the shoulder from Kiormund.
"I'm here, otter!" Veil shook himself back into reality. "Don't think I'm asleep - I'm too dead to do that."
"You just looked like you fainted, that's all."
"It's just that this is the first time I had somebeast apologise to me since… a while."
"Oh," said Kiormund as Veil stared at him, clearly expecting him to say more. "It- it just feels nice to be appreciated, that's all. I just don't know what to say."
"To be honest with you, I would have to apologise too, I think. "
"Why?"
"Not for hurting your feelings earlier. I don't regret that, and I don't have reason to. It's just because I lied to you."
"What?"
The ferret frowned, clearly tired of monosyllabic questions. "I guess I'm sorry too. I was too harsh on your friend."
"So… you think Graha's here to stay?" asked Kiormund.
Veil rolled his eyes. "Nah. I just meant she'd be more fortunate than me." He pointed a claw at Kiormund. "Despite my best efforts, I found myself enjoying your company."
"Thank you very much, I suppose," said Kiormund.
"Just one problem," said Veil, cocking his head to the side. "You may have journeyed far across the land, but you're still almost the same as you started. Peace this, tranquility that. You only seek peace because your heart is always in turmoil, so I'd try to deal with that first if I were you."
"I understand. I'll heed your advice," replied Kiormund, flashing a gentle smile. "You know, you are quite wise for an imaginary friend."
Veil hesitated before frowning in response. "I've seen a lot across the centuries."
It was quite late when Kiormund awoke. Dennol was not by his bed, and Kiormund assumed he was having breakfast. The otter sat up and sighed. Today was his last day at sea, and his first day to be trapped in Floret for perhaps a very long time. He got to his footpaws, slipped into his boots and decided to go for some vittles himself. Clambering up the stairs and onto the deck, Kiormund heard Dennol's deep voice come out from Urza's cabin. He decided to put his head to the door to get a closer listen.
Very little could be heard through the door. Margane's gentle voice could be heard once or twice, and Kiormund could hear nothing from Urza, while Dennol's muffled speech entered the otter's ears most often. But before Kiormund heard a single clear sentence, his eyes met with Bodvar Sparkflame's. Grey of fur and brown of eyes, the older otter made Kiormund think of his father. They were the same height, even.
A few moments ago, Bodvar had still been gazing across the sea, waiting for his eyes to happen upon a landmark. Kiormund thought it was a thankless task, but his fellow otter on board had volunteered to watch in the mornings while Dennol scanned the shore in the evenings. Although the marten thought Bodvar irritable, Kiormund honestly couldn't say the same.
"Kiormund." The other otter said, keeping his voice soft. "Over here."
Kiormund quickly walked to where Bodvar was - the starboard railings, from which he monitored the ship's progress. As the Aureous Gale approached Floret, and hence land, the currents pushing the ship southswards slowly dissipated, and only the northern winds pushed the carrack towards their destination.
"The Captain commanded me to tell you that she isn't to be disturbed this morning," said Bodvar. "Don't worry. Won't tell anybeast you're eavesdropping."
"I didn't hear anything anyway," replied Kiormund. "I wanted to get some food, I heard Dennol's voice and I got curious."
"Food does sound nice," commented Bodvar, patting his empty stomach. "Maybe I'll go get some myself. Maybe you could follow me?"
Kiormund nodded, and the pair of otters slunk into the bowels of the ship. Food had never been scarce on the ship, but two weeks at sea eating the same meal day in and night out had been slowly grating on Kiormund's nerves. At least the tack doesn't have worms.
"Margane told me about yesterday's incident," said Bodvar as he chewed on his bread. "You really should guard your tongue before you wag it."
Kiormund almost choked. "I'm sorry about that."
"Ah, it's nothing. You're too sheltered to know what to say and what not to say. Besides, I know Margane better than anybeast, if you know what I mean. She won't be mad for long."
"I wish you the best of luck with her then." Kiormund's whiskers twitched as he swallowed his meal. "I wanted to ask another question."
"Feel free."
"You're the only other woodlander here, so I had hoped you'd understand how my father's reacting to this whole mess."
"I don't really know much, to be honest. The Captain knows more than I do, but she's quite secretive, and I don't see a reason to pry."
"Then could you tell me what you do know?"
"Lord Erlend's furious, they say. He didn't need another reason to hate Southsward, but here it is, and here you are. As for your mother and her father… I don't know. Imperial heads can swing in any direction, especially when they're crowned." Bodvar took a sip of ale to wash down the contents of his mouth before continuing to speak. "There's also been talk about making you lord of somewhere - Gystra, Helskerland, Eichfurt or some other place like that. I've never been to Eichfurt before, but I hear it's a nice place, especially in the autumn. As for-"
Urza's shout cut the conversation short. "Bodvar Sparkflame - where are you? Don't tell me you're slacking off and munching on vittles again while leaving the ship unattended?"
Bodvar looked at Kiormund, shook his head, then rushed back up to salvage the situation, leaving Kiormund in the dark and dingy cabin all alone.
