I hope you all had a wonderful Christmas!
Would have liked to get this out sooner but, sickness and the holidays took their toll. As always let me know what you think. Enjoy!
The three travelers walked a stone's throw from the broad stream leading to Dane's otter holt. There was a shared silence between them. Samuel hoped they would reach Dane soon, that would be sure to cheer them all up.
There was a beautiful stillness as they traveled through Mossflower woods. The snow lay heavy on the tree branches, which bent low straining under the added weight. The trees carried a great deal of the snowfall and in some places, the ground beneath them showed patches of grass or shrubbery that seemed undisturbed by the bitter elements. The dirty green and earthy brown were ugly to Samuel compared to the solid blanket of white that covered the surrounding fields. But he knew as long as all the plants and grasses were not dead, beasts could find food if they really needed it. Several of the books in the library had told him that, and it was about all he knew of foraging.
"I see smoke ahead, we're almost there!" Brin chirped happily as she pointed to the sky. A small trail of smoke rose weakly in the distance.
Eli shook his head sadly. "That's not the otters. The river continues south before it splits and goes northeast and west. We'll meet them at the fork."
"Who do ya think it could be then?"
"I don't merrily well know. But if we see the smoke on our way back we can stop by and say hello. Remember part of this trip is to make sure all our friends are prepared for the winter."
The trio agreed and continued their procession through the woods.
After some time, it seemed that they would never make it to the otter holt. With darkness quickly approaching Samuel worried that they would have to make camp for the long night. He began to vocalize his complaints to Eli who reassured his younger brother they were close. Begrudgingly he followed. The excitement from the morning had withered away and now all Samuel could think of was how cold his paws were and when he would get a hot meal. Even Brin's singing as they walked couldn't shake Samuel's fear of sleeping away from his warm bed or lounging in his favorite reading chair sipping Chef Willard's warm cider.
"How do you know Dane will be there?" Samuel asked.
"Because Dane said he would be back before the first snowfall. You can always trust his word."
"But with the snow, this early into the season, do you think he could have been caught off guard? What if the shrew's logboats got stuck in the ice?" Samuel began to ramble.
Eli stopped and looked back disappointingly at his brother. "You know just as well as I do how Dane is. If he says he'll be back before the first snow he'll be back. Besides he's a more than capable sailor. We'll be there soon."
Samuel did his best not to show his displeasure to his brother who turned and trudged forward with the same steadfastness as was expected from Redwalls champion.
Soon enough Eli, Brin, and Samuel reached the fork in the river Eli had promised. Down the northern tributary smoke could be seen. After a short walk, they could see several flat-bottom barges and log boats moored on their side of the river. Samuel jumped for joy, as did Eli and Brin and they hurried their way down the riverbank.
The trio merrily called out to the first otter they saw and quickly they were surrounded by half a score of otters and Guosim shrews who were elated to see their Redwall friends. Eli, Samuel, and Brin had made it to Danes Holt.
The otter camp was arranged in a semi-circle with the river on one side and a ring of tents and burrows dug into the hill on the other. Temporary tents from the Guosim shrews sprinkled around the outside of the otter encampment with small fires all cooking or smoking fish or other vittles. The larger more permanent tents were closer to the center of the camp and there were five doors that led into homes within the hillside.
In the middle of the camp, a large firepit with a cauldron of spicy hootroot soup; a favorite of the otters, bubbled and churned making the camp smell quite lovely. Closer to the waterfront there were fishing nets being hung to dry along with the supplies from the otter's campaign that had been offloaded from the barges and logboats. There were boxes of winter clothing, fishing gear, coils of rope, weapons neatly leaning against each other, rows alongside a rowboat that lay upside down, a workbench with some tools, and a single barrel of mulberry wine.
On the opposite side of the camp, there was a stuffed target in the shape of a fox. Several javelins protruded from its chest and head. Behind the target was a hill where several young otters and shrews played. They ran up the snow-covered hill and slid down the side of it on small shields shrieking wildly with glee. Some of them stopped to observe the visitors enter the camp but quickly left to continue their game.
After some bone-crushing greetings, hearty slaps on the back, and obligatory congratulations, they were brought to one large, leafy-colored, square tent.
"Ho Greybeard! Long time no see, I hope ye's ready to eat!" A cheerful voice called out from one of the tents. Samuel smiled knowing his old friend had made it home safely.
Whipping the flap of the tent aside Dane Surebrook strode proudly out to greet them. The skipper of otters was tall, dark brown-furred, and covered in muscle. His thick forearms wore various cuts and scars from his battles with the water and vermin alike. He was the same age as Eli but stood almost twice as tall as the mouse. He wore a tan long-sleeved tunic and a dark blue jerkin and trousers of the same color that were cut off at the knee. His pants were held up with a thick rawhide belt with a grand bronze buckle. One of his favorite stories was how he had slain a score of corsairs just because their captain taunted him with it. He was an expert with the javelin and had a short temper which made him a terrifying foe. Most importantly had been friends with Brin and the Greyfurs for as long as they could remember.
Dane stopped, his eyebrows raised in shock. "My goodness, Brin I haven't seen you in seasons."
Brin smiled politely and did a curtsey. "Dane, or should I say Skipper. You know I'd never thought I'd call you that but here we are." she laughed.
Dane barked a lively laugh and rushed forward to give the three weary travelers a hug.
"I've missed you all so much." He said, his beard brushing Samuel who could only smile through the painful affection.
After releasing them from his grip Dane led them to the tent.
"We'll feed you all in no time there's just a few beasts I'd like you all to meet."
"My good friends welcome to the war room." Dane proudly said as he ushered them in.
The tent was larger on the inside than on the outside. Two flaps were opened on the opposite side of the tent for air and light. To the left were a small bed and a nightstand with a wash basin and a lit candle providing more light than what was needed. In the center of the room was a large table with a crudely drawn map of Mossflower country open over the top of it. There were three shrews and two otters leaning over the table. They turned to welcome their guests.
Dane introduced Log-a-Log the Guosim shrew chieftain, Putnam a shrew coxswain, and a larger shrew warrior named Hadwin. He also introduced his father Raglan and Mori a navigator from Dane's crew. Out of all in the room, Samuel only recognized Log-a-Log from his occasional visits to the Abbey, and Raglan from his childhood growing up as playmates with Dane. Eli appeared to know all in the room quite well and greeted everyone warmly as they did the same to him.
"So, Skipper, what seems to be the purpose of this war room?" Eli said. His voice was low as if he anticipated being attacked any minute.
"We were just finishing explaining the details of our journey north," Dane explained as he closed the flaps of the tent behind them. "You missed the long of it but arrived just in time to get a brief report. I'm assuming this was the reason you traveled all the way from Redwall, especially in this weather."
Eli frowned and crossed his arms, expecting the worse. "Not entirely. But now that we're here we might as well hear it."
"Are ye sure they need to be hearin' al' this?" Asked Putnam gesturing towards Samuel and Brin. He was slightly smaller than Samuel but had a grizzled and water-worn appearance made from seasons of navigating Mossflowers rivers.
"You mean Brin and Samuel? Of course they do, they're some of my closest advisors." Eli responded matter-of-factly.
"And Samuel's the Abbeys recorder… I mean… historian. If there's anything of importance, he should be one of the first to know." Brin added proudly.
"There isn't anything too bothersome anyway, and there's no need for closed lips within this room," Dane said, which didn't seem to soothe Eli's stern demeanor.
Eli turned to his brother. "Please take notes if you could."
Samuel stoically nodded in agreement and gratefully accepted a piece of parchment and a pencil from Raglan who had retrieved it from the nightstand. Thankful to be of some use to his brother.
Dane strode to the map on the table and began to retrace their journey north as Samuel scribbled down what the otter said.
"Around 3 moons past, we left the holt." He pointed at the map with the end of a narrow stick.
"It took just under a fortnight, but we made it to the camp where Lord Bromwell and a small army of the Long Patrol and other woodlanders were gathered." Dane had traced their route from the fork in the river south of Redwall, all the way by water around the east of the Abbey to the foothills of the northern mountains.
"As I'm sure you know Eli, the plan was to crush whatever vermin horde had been tormenting the northern woods for the past season. Lord Bromwell hoped that we could limit them from raiding the good beasts who lived there and to try and force their hand to fight in a head-to-head battle. Well, they're cunning cowards for sure and snaked their way out of any confrontation. We had some sightings of vermin from afar but no real skirmishes until we headed home. But that's another story."
"Remind me to tell you that story at supper over a pint of mead, it'll sure get Redwall's ol' stone-faced warrior to laugh until 'es belly's sore." Log-a-log merrily interjected. It seemed he was bursting at the seams to tell it. However, the seriousness of the meeting told him it wouldn't be a good idea to now.
"Yes, you'll love that story." Dane continued with a wry smile. "But that's beside the point. The important part was that all paws were accounted for when we left. We can consider ourselves fortunate we avoided any violence; I've heard that others weren't as lucky." Dane frowned and focused back on the map of Mossflower.
"We patrolled mainly along this river and tributary," he said, tracing a winding line on the map. "Our allies from Salamandastron were to our east and northwest. We believe we pushed the vermin back into the mountains for the winter. Lord Bromwell would have liked to have sent them to the gates of the Dark Forest, but it would be impossible to attack them if they had fortified themselves in the mountains for the remainder of the season," his face darkened, "No doubt the vermin are adding to their rank as we speak."
"So, I assume that means that there'll be a war on our hands come this spring?" Eli asked, his eyes glazed in a trance Samuel had seen many times before.
"Lord Bromwell hopes that we did enough to starve them or freeze them to death this winter. We were able to protect the good beasts up north from raids, so I see that as a victory in itself." The shrew Putnam responded, and both Dane and Log-a-Log nodded in agreement.
"Before we headed south Bromwell told us that he was going to scout the foothills for any sign of a permanent vermin camp or fort. That way we would know where to strike come the beginning of spring. He would let our allies know of the situation and what he advises our next move to be. We left the next day, and it took us until yesterday to get back. We haven't heard anything from Lord Bromwell since." Dane folded his arms and stared at the map pondering what the future held.
"Were you expecting to hear back from him by now?" Asked Eli as he stroked his whiskers.
"I suppose I was which was a mistake. I just hate waiting for something like this. I wish I knew those vermin were dead!" Dane's voice boomed. Having lived a good portion of his life outside the Abbey's walls Dane had spent more time than Samuel, Eli, or Brin fighting off vermin. He had seen many good beasts slain at their claws.
"Be patient with Lord Bromwell, he will come through. You know how those Salamandastron hares are. I would expect them to be thorough in their scouting. Especially with something as important as this." Raglan soothed his son.
"Aye. I would be happy we made it back in one piece. I'm certain that vermin horde is wishing they hadn't angered that badger!" Mori declared.
"You were needed at home anyway. It worried us when the weather turned colder after the brutal summer we had. No need chasing that rabble to the ends of Mossflower, there's always more vermin around here who need to be taught a lesson." Raglan added further comforting Dane.
"Do you know who's leading the vermin?" Eli asked, trying to get as much information from those present before they eventually succumbed to dinner.
"Some beast named Zidar. About as nasty as they come apparently. Terrifies the vermin beneath him to a point of savagery. 'Ave you heard of him?"
Eli looked at Samuel, who shook his head. "Nope never heard of 'em."
"Doesn't matter now, you've all made it back without a scratch and that's better than what we could 'av asked for," Eli said. It appeared that he had gotten as much as he wanted from their meeting.
"Now with this out of the way let's eat. After all this talking, I could drink the River Moss dry!"
With the meeting adjourned Samuel and the others left the tent and headed towards the fire where a meal of hootroot soup, cooked river bass, sweet nut bread, and the remainder of the mulberry wine was being shared generously. Samuel dove into the hootroot soup as fast as he was handed his bowl. Eli and Brin did the same. Willard tried his best to make it when pressured too, but aside from the cook's best efforts, it was never as good as when made by the otters.
After downing his first bowl and cooling his mouth with a swig of the mulberry wine, he handed Eli the folded-up notes he had taken while in the tent. Eli stared at them confused, then remembered. He wiped away the soup that had stuck to his whiskers and took the parchment.
"Thank you for that. Have you ever heard of any beast named Zidar in your studies?" He asked as he examined the parchment.
"Can't say that I have, nor why he would be ravaging the north. All I know is many vermin warlords come from the Land of Ice and Snow. Usually, the northern forests of Mossflower get the brunt of their wrath."
"I'm sure you could investigate something like this when we get back to the Abbey," Eli said as he tucked the parchment into his front pocket. "See if there are any old vermin forts or camps of sorts tucked away in the mountains."
"Remind me to do so when we get home." Samuel was already headed to the fire for another bowl of soup.
A line had already formed for seconds. Otters and shrews quickly ladled soup into their bowls and sat down to devour it as quickly as they could. The otter cooks desperately persuaded them to eat slower and savor the flavor, but to no avail. After getting his second serving Samuel turned to head back to Eli and Brin. He saw that Dane had joined the two of them and was engaged in a heated conversation as all three appeared to be speaking at the same time. Samuel decided it would be smart to stay away from them for the time being.
Samuel bounced from group to group engaging in polite conversation. Everybeast wanted to know how Redwall's historian was handling the cold, considering it was rumored he never left the comfort of his library. Soon enough he ran into Log-a-Log who was waiting to fill his cup with mulberry wine. It appeared he had done so already multiple times.
"Cheif," Samuel clapped Log-a-Log on the back and spun him around.
"Oh, Eli … whatevah is it?" The shrew chieftain slurred his words.
"You mentioned earlier you had a story to tell from your trip home. I was wondering if you'd be able to tell us now?" Samuel asked over the noise of the meal.
There was a momentary look of confusion on his face, then a wave of understanding washed over him, and he broke into a wide drunken smile. "I'll not just tell you; I'll tell the whole camp!" the shrew announced.
"After I fill up." Log-a-Log winked at him and quickly filled his cup with wine. Samuel found an empty seat as the shrew jumped atop a tree stump.
"Listen up all ye! I have a story from our journey to tell!" Log-a-Log's voice boomed as the others sitting around the fire fell silent and the attention turned to him.
The shrew paused to collect his thoughts. "We were fortunate that no harm came to any of us during our journey." A great cheer went up from those in attendance and there was a round of applause.
"Now that doesn't mean that we didn't see the hide or tail of our dirty foe. But we were able to send shivers down their spines as we sent them bawling back to their mums with their tails between their legs!" Another roar of approval came from the woodlanders.
Log-a-Log lowered his voice. "My story is about one such encounter."
"It was on the journey home. Almost a week had passed from when we left our comrades to the north." The shrew was oddly sober now. As if the story he was about to tell had knocked the drink out of him.
"The night was cold, the wind howled, and the rain came down in droves. We were weary from a long day's journey and yearned to be among our kin. We made camp on the same stretch of river that Mirabell the sister of Hadwin and her family live on. They had shown us kindness in the past and would show us a greater kindness that night."
"As we struggled to moore our boats Mirabell's family came down to help us. Even Mirabell the kind woman herself, left the fire where she had spent the day preparing us a feast. Warm bread, freshly caught fish, and enough stew to drown a pike awaited we, weary travelers." Log-a-Log swayed upon his stump.
"As all of us battled to anchor the barge and secure our belongings. The only beast t'wasnt aiding our plight was leetle Honeysuckle, a wee young'un barely able to totter around on her own two paws. The leetle thing was watching our vittles warming by the fire as we struggled against the current. All of us were busy tying down our gear not knowing that vermin slinked just out of sight."
Log-a-Log downed the rest of the wine in a single swig. "Honeysuckle saw a massive, cloaked ferret appear from the shadows to steal our vittles. The vermin was large and mangled, with glowing red eyes and spittle dripping from its mouth through sharp teeth. Its claws were like knives ready to tear apart any good beast that fell into its clutches. It was as quiet as death. But the brutish beast was as dumb as they came, and didn't see little Honeysuckle guarding our food."
Log-a-Log paused as he appeared to try and prevent the remnants of his drink from coming back up.
"'Stop vermin!' our brave hero shouted as the ferret was just about to rob us ov our vittles. Honeysuckle grabbed the mixing ladle as the vermin's red eyes turned angrily toward her. Caring not for herself but for us honored guests, she attacked!" The shrew attempted to mimic the actions of the little hero and grabbed a spoon. He assumed a fencing position unlike that of the Long Patrol hares, which humored those in attendance.
"Take that you villainous scum! Cretinous coward! Thieving the good beasts of Mossflower would you? Well, you shall no more!" He slurred.
Log-a-Log began to swing his spoon like he was fending off a massive beast with the same intensity that he downed his drink. He stumbled drunkenly around the fire and tumbled over his stump. In a flash, the shrew lept upright and continued to attack the imaginary foe bumbling forward once again.
"Ha! Ye call that fighting ya coward! I'll show ye!" The crowd had erupted into laughter as Samuel brought the shrew chieftain back to the subject.
"What happened next mate?" Samuel called amongst the uproar.
"Next? W-well what do ya think happened next? The coward ran off. Thought 'e was in for an easy meal but leetle Honeysuckle showed 'em a lesson didn't she!" At that everybeast broke into cheers and hurrahs for the savior of the trip.
Samuel couldn't help but laugh and cheer for the heroine as well. Log-a-logs retelling was amusing enough for Samuel, but he wondered how true it was. He decided he didn't care; it would ruin the mood anyway.
Samuel downed the remainder of his soup and finished off his cup of wine. He got up to stretch his legs and decided he wanted to stroll around the camp. The sun was almost completely gone, and the last few streaks of sunlight burned intensely on the horizon as darkness quickly approached.
Samuel walked down to the water. The mud on the riverbank was frozen solid. He carefully knelt cupping his paws and dipped them into the river. He lifted them to his mouth to drink. The water was as cold as he expected, but he was grateful as it cooled his mouth and helped him straighten his thoughts.
"I thought you had wandered off matey." Dane knelt beside him.
"Just wanted to cool my mouth off. Good stuff that soup is." Samuel responded startled yet pleased to have found a moment to reconnect with Dane.
"Aye, Layla's a wonderful cook, isn't she? Her good food and strong arms are what keep me warm through these cold winters. That's motivation enough to make it home in one piece."
"On time as well?"
"I'd never be late fer her." His confidence in himself was glowing. Samuel felt bad for doubting Dane, not that it would have mattered. He would have made it home regardless.
Samuel filled himself on the cool water and stood up. He had a question he wanted to ask Dane.
"How true was Log-a-Logs story?"
"Ha! Aside from Honeysuckle beating the ferret senseless, it's as true as it gets. She called for help as soon as she saw the vermin. We scared its stripes off and chased it when it fled."
"That was your only vermin encounter the entire time?"
"Aye mate. Didn't see more than them creeping in the shadows from across the river. As much as we'd like to have crossed blades with 'em making it home in one piece was more important." There was an uneasy relief in Dane's voice.
Samuel frowned, "Something else is the matter, isn't it?"
Dane was taken aback. "No, there isn't. Vermin will be vermin, there's no changing them we all know that. We just have to be prepared for when they show their ugly hides."
Samuels's stomach knotted remembering the other reason for their visit.
"Is food the issue?"
Dane sighed. "It's not as bad as ye think. Now that I'm home I can start organizing parties to gather what we can and fish for whatever's available."
"Have you talked to Eli about it? That's a big reason we're here." Samuel asked concerned.
Dane rolled his eyes. "He mentioned that Redwall is willing and able to help their friends in need and that we're welcome to come for the Winter Feast. That's as much I could get from him before Log-a-Log took our attention away."
Samuel looked back at the glow of the fire. Somebeast had brought out a fiddle and was playing it while another began to sing. He could hear more voices begin to timidly join and knew that soon enough everybeast would be singing as loud as they could.
He turned to walk down the riverbank.
"Is that all that Eli said?"
"Pretty much," Dane said as he walked aside from him. "But I know what Redwall's champion is going to say anyway. He'll tell everybeast that the Abbey has enough food to spare when he's starvin'."
"Never turn away a friend or a good beast in a time of need. You know that Dane." Samuel quoted one of Redwalls tenants they were taught when they were both dibbuns.
"I know, which is why I want to hear from you how bad things are at Redwall."
"What? Everything's fine?" Samuel said flustered at the question.
Dane could see he needed to clarify. "I know you took a record of what was gathered from the harvest, they do it every season. Eli's too prideful to tell me the truth and Brin told me that you were in the meeting with Eli, Abbot Micah, Sister Beryl, and Chef Willard."
Samuel began to feel uneasy. That meeting was supposed to be a secret.
He backed away from Dane. "We were there to dispel the rumors."
"Which is why I need you to tell me the truth right now." Dane turned to him with a cold glare and placed a strong paw on his shoulder.
Samuel didn't like Dane's questioning. He had told the otter the truth. This wasn't the carefree and joyful friend he remembered.
"All you've heard have just been rumors. It's less food than in years prior but Willard assures us that we'll all be fine. We'll just be feasting a little less."
"And what do you think, you wrote the ledger?"
Samuel shuffled his paws in his cloak pocket. "If the chef says we'll be fine, then we have nothing to worry about. I just count what we have I don't decide what we do with it."
Dane let go of him and sighed. Blood surged back into Samuel's shoulder.
"What's going on Dane you're starting to scare me."
Dane smiled kindly, reminding Samuel of his friend from seasons past. "Nothing to worry about mate. But I might be going back to Redwall with you for old times' sake."
"Are you sure? You just said t-"
"Oi skippah get over here!" An otter who was clearly drunk called from the ring of revilers. Dane waved the otter away and ushered Samuel towards the fire.
"Don't worry I passed the idea by Eli and my father. I just need to make sure everyone is doing well in Redwall. Enjoy the night while it lasts, mate. We have a long trip back tomorrow."
Samuel and Dane walked to the fire; the sound of music sweetly filled the air. The otters and shrews were dancing and singing merrily. Brin and Eli had joined in and were clearly enjoying themselves. Samuel still unsure of his conversation with Dane sat dispirited on a bench outside the ring of dancers. Eventually, he was passed a warm mug of some spiced drink by a kind-eyed otter. He didn't want to think very much about what he had learned in the meeting in the war room, or about his talk with Dane, so he gratefully accepted. He had gotten to his third mug of the stuff when Brin came around and pulled him into the circle. Whether it was the drink or the music or more likely dancing like a fool with Brin, the rest of the night became an enjoyable blur that he wished would never end.