Chapter 13
What Will Be
There is hope in dreams, imagination, and in the courage of those who wish to make those dreams a reality. -Jonas Salk
After nearly an hour spent alone in the crypt beneath the Belltower, Lamont Streambattle, Steward of Southsward walked back to Castle Floret.
Jacoba and Kiormund had gone with Finnbarr. They were probably in the library, digging their snouts into ancient tomes and finding records of long-dead kings and lords.
The otter smirked. They did not have to deal with the rain.
The skies above were dyed a leaden shade of grey as a biting deluge hurtled down from the heavens. Beasts hurried to get their produce under covers, while stray children whined about not getting to play in the sunshine. From the corner of his eye Lamont saw a foxwife in blue consoling her two very active children that tomorrow might see the sun rise on them again, and if that was not the case there was always the day after.
He smirked. Those vermin were lucky.
"Hey! Lars!" A plump dormouse came rushing down the road. Lamont knew Farra well, even though the opposite was not true. Back then he was trying to perfect his commoner disguise and he needed a good cover story. Gaining a friend in a countrybeast was the first step.
"Evenin' t' yer!" he chuckled, sliding into the heavy ottery accent the farmer believed he had. "Blighted weather today, hm?"
"Ooh, absolutely! I'll have to delay my departure for a few days, it seems. The roads won't have dried up yet."
"Aw. Hopefully ye've got somethin' ter do!"
"Well, I was hoping to check out some prices. What about you?"
"I was off visitin' my dad, but my wife needs me back home. Stormy one, that otterlass!"
"Good luck with her then! And with the pups!"
"Have a good time here in Floret!" said Lamont, scrambling his hood back on and dashing eastward.
The stairs up the castle were a struggle to climb in such inclement weather, but as usual the Steward was a master of everything castle-related. When he finally made it past the gates he swiftly hurled his jacket towards a servant and made a few turns into his wife's apartments.
"You're here just in time," said Anezka. even after three childbirths Lamont's wife was a slim otter , and he was tempted to tell her that she had been eating too little as of late. Then he remembered the last time he tried, and decided against it. "How was your trip? Did your father respond accordingly? Did his spirit pat your head and tell you how faithful a pup you had been?"
"Spare me the mockery, dear," replied Lamont as he moved to occupy the nearest armchair. Anezka had got to his favourite one first. "I was thinking. Conspiring. Wondering what Lord Steffen Streambattle would have done and what he would not."
"Of course, you didn't die in battle at the age of twenty-four, so I'd say he wouldn't be able to give you good advice." The lady yawned as Lamont moved closer to the fireplace. A shower would do him a world of good once this conversation was over. "Aside from the whole 'being dead' thing."
"He died dealing with your father, I know. There is no need to be angry about beasts killing each other over four decades ago."
"I'm more worried about the beast he died to put on the Imperial Throne."
Lamont rolled his eyes. "Kiordan Skyward."
"As the resident foreigner, I am obligated to inform you that Southsward should have stayed out of Garlesca. Your great realm had given shelter to a fox that shall devour your woodpigeons, and now that the birds have been crammed down his throat, what next?"
"We both know." Lamont stood up, lifting up a few claws. "Revesvakt in Helskerland, Kaldos in Travrik, then it would be my Gystra next." The Steward scoffed. "He loves his cities like Rab does old coins - hoarding them up and boasting to the world about his collection."
"I do often wish sometimes we had a way of dealing with him, that old squid whose tentacles reach into places that should better have never been touched." Anezka's lips curled into a smile - an expression Lamont had seen before. It was not the one she wore when she was breastfeeding Rab, nor was that her countenance when they were wed. "If only you had somebeast dear to him in your back pocket."
Lamont sighed. "We- no. You will not be touching our nephew."
"You think treating him like an ornament would help Southsward? You think Kiordan would come to his senses when you're giving his grandson shelter for the winter? Send His Majesty a few body parts that his namesake used to possess. Claws, paws, a whole rudder, what have you. Crowned heads seldom think in terms of favours - 'benefit' is the only word in his glossary!"
"Strong words for an ottersow who seeks a crown upon my head!" shouted Lamont.
The room was plunged into freezing stillness for a few seconds as the Steward looked nervously around the chamber. The fire still burned next to the wall, but the paintings and tapestries could barely be seen in the dim light. There was red-robed Joseph the Bellmaker as usual, but the trains of squirrelkings were somewhat obscured.
"I am Steward of Southsward. I am no king, and the act of seizing crowns is one more suited to my brother. I will work hard for Gael's line until the Fates tear me away from my duty."
"Spare me the hyperbole. We both know you want something more."
Lamont nodded. "Everybeast wants something nowadays."
"Fine," said Anezka, straightening herself on her chair. "I'll let you keep your secrets."
"And you yours." The otter turned away from his wife. "I'll get a bath drawn. We shall return to this discussion tonight."
As he made his way out the door he was stopped by an unsubtle cough. "One more thing, husband." Anezka was frowning now. "My brother King Vatslav was kind enough to send me a letter. Lorelei Skyward had been sighted in Szaila."
"Lorelei…" Lamont rubbed his chin. "That's a name I have not heard in a while. What's she doing there?"
"No idea. Vashek failed to apprehend her, and now I would assume she is somewhere else."
"Was her father with her?"
"No. Four vermin were with her - a mother and her brood of three. And a certain Sigurd Streambattle."
Lamont's eyes widened. "Are you sure it's him?"
"A grey-furred otter boar who spoke like a noble, one who was coming from Tarelis? There are not many other choices."
The Steward pursed his lips. Could Kiordan be considering an invasion with Tarelian help? Szaila? Ilsadia? Southsward, even? Or maybe Lorelei and Sigurd could have been working alone, but for what? It wasn't like the Szailans could hold Skela or any of Tarelis for long.
He turned back away. "Like I said, we'll have a lot to talk about tonight." The Steward would have to spend some time in his thoughts while he bathed.
Kiormund was back in Redwall Abbey that night, with only him and Veil gazing up at the night sky. The rest of the Abbeybeasts were apparently too busy with dreams of their own.
"I must say, the Crypt was not a disappointment!" said the ferret, giggling. "Lots of dead woodlanders, what's not to like?"
Kiormund rubbed his ear. "Allow me to guess. The fact that their organs were not buried separately?"
"That would be interesting. Where could I see that?"
"Branaber. There was a mausoleum which housed all the Tarelian kings. All the intestines and livers were placed in little urns while the bones were in their proper places."
"And you were terrified of them?"
"Absolutely! My grandmother had to calm me down by saying that wouldn't happen to me if I didn't want it to. That, and those skeletons would not, in fact spring up from their resting places."
"That does sound like something you would have been terrified by when you were a pup. The beasts who took care of me loved telling scary stories about dibbuns who didn't do as they were told. I loved the one about that squirrel."
"Was it the one about not going to sleep properly at bedtime? Goodness, what that band of roving foxes did to him was loathsome. It gave me nightmares."
"How old were you?"
"Er..." Kiormund chuckled. "Fifteen seasons?"
"Isn't that too old an age to be spooked by Abbey stories?"
"Well, you wouldn't know. You never lived to be fifteen."
Veil slowly turned his head towards the otter, lifted up a five-clawed paw, and smacked Kiormund hard on the muzzle, earning a yelp.
"I deserved that," said the otter, rubbing his cheek.
"Like the otter who decided to play in Cavern Hole a few hours past bedtime." Veil grinned. "But no, my favourite was the one about not going outside the abbey without adult supervision."
"And we both know they never did find his other paw."
Silence once again enveloped Redwall Abbey as the two beasts gazed at the sky.
"Did you see the stars often?" asked Kiormund.
"Oh?"
"I mean, before you found me you didn't get to do much. Centuries of wandering sounds rather tiresome."
Veil nodded. "It was. Very much so. Sometimes I looked to the stars for directions, but they usually weren't that responsive."
"Have you heard about constellations then?"
"Consta-what?" Veil's tail swished behind his back. "Sounds like a Southern thing."
"You know, when you look into the sky, you can see different patterns formed by different stars." The otter pointed up and traced a few lines, moving his claw downward and to the right. "These five stars join together to make a massive whale, for example."
Veil's jaw hung open as he tried visualising what Kiormund had just described. "It does look like a fish, somewhat. Why don't you call it a fish?"
"Because it's clearly bigger than some fish!"
"It's clearly bigger than a whale too!"
"Don't blame me, I didn't make the names up!"
Veil chuckled. "Riling you up can be so fun sometimes. Do other stars interest you?"
"Er, sometimes. Those four stars making up a trapezium? That's the Flying Fox! He was a vulpine king of some southern realm, you see. He managed to gain control of his kingdom eventually, and was to marry some Laskarine princess."
"It doesn't sound like a story with a happy ending. What happened next?"
"One night, he was visited by Vulpuz himself in a dream, who promised him a place higher than all the rulers in the world."
"And he actually accepted?"
Kiormund nodded and pointed up. "There he is now, locked into the sky by forces celestial, never to return to earth. Valence never got a king until my grandfather came along. There's another story about him finding his way to the moon, where he lives to this day, spending his time feasting with some haremaid."
"A somewhat happier ending, I suppose."
"Indeed. See these three stars?"
"Those ones? The triangle?"
"That's the Skybell! Legend said that when Joseph the Bellmaker was near death, he asked the Fates to give him the energy to create one last project. So they conjured up a bell to be placed amongst the stars, where it rings once or twice every century. Haimo Harlessant - the hare in the crypt - once said that each corner of the Skybell represented the three types of Southswarders - rulers, fighters, workers."
"You seem to know a lot about these stars, Kio."
"My grandfather had told me about all the constellations! When I asked him what his favourite sign was, he chuckled and said that he loved all of them." The otter coughed and deepened his voice. "You see, Kio, there's just one sky in the heavens."
"That sounds nothing like me!"
Kiormund scrambled up and turned around to see the smiling face of his grandfather. Kiordan glanced at the ferret and back to his grandson. "Don't worry, I'm just here to visit you. I see you made a new friend."
"This is Veil. Veil Sixclaw. He's dead."
Veil shrugged. "This is as good an introduction as any, I suppose. I don't believe we met before."
"I am Kiordan Skyward, holder of many titles you wouldn't care about. I do have to wonder how you two met."
Kiormund scratched his head. "To begin, I was on a ship, the Aureous Gale, when he sneaked up on me in a dream and proceeded to irk me for a few minutes. He spent enough time around me and we naturally grew close, despite his very frequent insults."
Veil snorted. "If it makes you feel better, I did warn you about Urza."
"Urza?" Kiordan's eyes sprung wide as he lurched forward and grabbed the ferret by his shoulders. "Tell me what you know about her. Now!"
Kiormund quickly tapped his grandfather's shoulder. "She's the fox who took me to Floret on the Gale. Do you know her?"
"She tried to kill me twice, so I would reckon it's a stormy relationship. More stormy than Ignazia and I, even."
"Kill you? When?"
"Last time was around five weeks ago. Went after me with a pair of swords, that little brushtailed witch. The proper term's Sorcerer, but I don't care."
"But she was still on the ship!" gasped Veil. "How could she…"
"Could she fold space or something?" asked Kiormund.
"Well, to some degree, perhaps?" Kiordan's face morphed into a frown. "But in dreams everything is possible."
"What do you mean by that?" asked the younger otter.
"You see, the Dreamscape is a dangerous place." Kiordan's lips curled up into a bitter smile. "When you go to sleep every night, you will dream. It doesn't matter if you remember it or not, you'll still find yourself in the World of Dreams, with its wonders and horrors."
Kiormund's rudder twitched. "And you might find everybeast in your own dream? Like you coming into mine?"
"Not everybeast." Kiordan shook his head. "Oh, no. But anybeast. If a ferret with no experience in Thaumaturgy could sneak into your dream, then you stand no chance against those who wish to actually harm you."
"And I need…"
"Training, yes, yes." The old emperor laughed. "I've got mine under the best of the best, and I think that beast would still be around to help you." He took a glance at Veil as the air before the trio misted over and something like a door opened. A portal, thought Kiormund.
"Well, 'you' plural. I don't believe I knew your name, but I think a couple of beasts would love to see you."
"More beasts?" asked the ferret, clearly curious.
"Well, there's Hirsent. She's a wolf who'd love to meet you and I promise you she is quite accommodating, despite her stature. Then there's Kiormund's mother. I don't know if she misses her little pup or not, but considering how you treat him… I think you two would get on amazingly well."
Kiormund groaned. "Can we go now?"
His grandfather nodded as he walked through the portal, calling Veil and Kiormund to follow with a gesture. "We can indeed."
000
Two pairs of eyes watched Kiormund's rudder pass through the pathway his grandfather made. Perched atop the Belltower of Redwall, Daghild wondered what Kiordan had to say to his grandson, but she believed that she would know in time. "Are you sure letting them go in peace is the best idea?"
Oswin nodded. The black-furred otter blended in well under the shadows of the tower, the bells above them and the shutters on the windows having obscured most sources of light. The darkness was a small price to pay for secrecy. "Mayhaps. I've been fighting the otter for longer than you would believe."
Daghild nodded. "I guessed that was the case. Being away from the world you live in causes time to leave your body unscathed."
"Yeah, yeah, correct. The first thing you have to know about Kiordan is that he always has a trick up his sleeves."
"And the second?" Daghild liked asking questions as much as Oswin liked answering them.
"Oh, the second's just that there's always a beast next to him, watching over him, protecting him. It was Melisse the rat at first-"
"And Deyna, then Isangrim, and now this new wolf," interrupted Daghild, counting down her claws. "You're afraid if we spring a trap she would come to her master's rescue."
"Well, she's no apprentice or slave. The word 'friend' would be better, but who knows? There could be so much more going on, completely oblivious to us." The otter chuckled. "Or rather, to you, for now."
Daghild thought it wise to ignore the insult. "So what do we know now that we did not before? What did we gain?"
"Well, we took a pretty good look at the Shade."
"The ferret?"
Oswin nodded. "Less impressive than Margane described him to be, really. Still, he might be a stone we could trip over when we finally make a move."
"Like Lorelei?"
"Oh yes. Every few nights I dream of her and her blasted memories. Something happened in our confrontation, and I do not know what it is."
"What exactly happened?"
"We lashed out at exactly the same time and I was struck with a vision," said Oswin. "Something about a teenaged ottermaid doing things a teenaged ottermaid would do."
"Why didn't she attack you when you were preoccupied?"
"That? I don't really understand why."
"Might have been because she was distracted. With a vision of her own, perhaps?"
"Perhaps. But if I saw her past… she would be able to see mine." Oswin's eyes shot up as his whiskers trembled and a piece of string popped into the otter's paw, with two wooden balls attached to it. With a spin of his palm the Amplifier spun, the balls clashing against each other and making clack after clack, sparks of Thaumaturgy visible every single collision. Daghild prepared for the flow of Conjury and the slow veiling of air in front of her, but that never came. Instead, the space in front of them cracked like a massive pane of glass, forming a large irregular hole.
"That-" stuttered the mole. "That was Sorcery. You're an otter - how on earth could you-"
"We do not have time to linger here!" shouted Oswin. "My plans are an open book, and Lorelei will soon turn the pages."
The otter skipped through the Pathway, and the Archivist followed. Behind her, she heard the pealing of both Redwall bells, beginning the tolling of the end.
C/N: Hi there! It's Kiormund again. I really wasn't up to much these few months - being locked up would do that. Still, thanks for sitting tight with me and getting through the first fourth of the story. Yes, fourth. I must admit that my author does things very slowly. I'd say 'deliberate' is a kinder word, but lying isn't great, you know? In any case, the plot should pick up in a few chapters... while that happens you'll get a close look at how my mother is handling things!
You have my greatest condolences.
