A/N: Dear Abrahem,
Thank you for taking the time to review, it was appreciated. Yeah, Sharpfur's a favourite. I won't say he's based off of Tuco- but I can see similarities (of course I didn't know who Tuco was until you mentioned him so perhaps it's just benefit of hindsight).
Sorry Chapter 34 took a while- I've been busy, but I'm glad I could change your mind about fanfics (really they get a bad press in general but finding good ones isn't too hard- if you want some further recommendations I am more than happy to share). On another note I'll have to warn you that this story... doesn't have the best of Update Schedules, so the gap between chapters can sometimes be very long, and sometimes you get five in one night. This also means that unless you get an account (and I'm not going to make you do that) you're going to have to wait for an update to have a response.;
Poetry? Haha, can't really help with that. I think there was one that I liked somewhere in the Redwall archive but... It evades me now...
I didn't have any plans regarding the dirk... until you mentioned it. Just wanted to find a weapon that was both unique, yet at the same time commonplace. Although, I do have some ideas now that you mention it.
Blizzard, Heartrip and Redtail... I don't really have any plans for them at the moment, but at the same time don't want to go on record and say 'they're dead' in case I *do* think of something. Let's just leave their fate as... disambiguous. Although I won't lie, the odds of them returning are slim to none.
A further note, but this is more to everyone than just you specifically. I know the Fret and Momchillo arc is starting to wear you down, but just hang in there. We shall be moving on to the rest of the cast soon.
Now without further ado...
If Fret had not grown accustomed to staring at the grinning skulls that lined the walls he'd have probably fainted. Here and there within the icy caverns there lay the definite signs of death. The abandoned quills of a hedgehog. The missing teeth of a squirrel, abandoned by the skull that lay a few feet away. Spines and ribs. Skulls and arms. Even a small sword that lay just out of reach of what could have been either a rat or a mouse.
All of which Momchillo pointedly ignored.
Despite all of his protests, all his suggestions, the mouse stubbornly refused to believe in anything he said. He was just a coward after all. A vermin and a coward and... he shook his head despondently. Thinking like that had never been useful, no matter how honest it was.
A fox glared down at them from the ice above. It's old, gnarled figure forever frozen into a snarl. "Momchillo."
"Left, Fret. Left." The mouse replied, ignoring the old, dead fox and turning left.
The ferret let out a snarl of his own, before a tug at his tail reminded him to follow. There was a strange smell within the icy caverns... one he had never encountered before, yet sent chills down his spine. He shivered uncomfortably, ignoring the now-painful growls of his stomach as best he could.
Momchillo's ears were better than his nose, and as such he had no such worries. Yes the skeletons were worrisome, but if he lost his head now then he and Fret were both doomed. And it would be his fault. The poor creatures had gotten lost, he would not. Every left turn, he took. Although his heart hammered against his chest and panic lurked beneath his skin, there was too much at stake to give in. It would be almost as bad, however, if Fret suddenly panicked. So the mouse decided it was in his best interests to make sure that did not happen.
Yet he knew so little about his companion that he had no idea how to reach his goal.
"So Fret... What do you like?" Mentally, he facepalmed.
"What do I like?" The ferret repeated bitterly. "Hmm, let me think. Not starving to death under a frozen lake. Not getting lost under a frozen lake. Not being under a frozen lake. Not being under a frozen lake with you-"
"Fret! For the last time, we are not getting lost! Now please, stop complaining. Anyways the only way out now is left."
"Or we can turn around and go right." The ferret snapped.
"Too late for that. Now, stop changing the subject. What is it you like to do?"
"To do? Well I don't like talking to you. I don't like walking. I don't like-"
"Let's sing something. Should keep our spirits up."
"Really? Really? No thank you. No thank you. We're doomed. We're lost. We're trapped. And sooner or later we'll..." The ferret shivered suddenly and searched the walls, as if worried they would burst out at him. "I'm not singing!" He spat.
Momchillo gritted his teeth. "Fret, I will go mad if I cannot do anything until we get to Redwall."
"If we get to Redwall."
"We will get back!"
"I have my doubts."
Silence overtook them, an uneasy silence that did nothing to help Momchillo's beating heart. "Fret. We're so far away from Redwall that... that we have to work together to get home."
"Humph. Work together? You mean I have to listen to every single one of your stupid dreams until something kills me?"
"Nothing is going to kill you Fret. Look. Okay." The mouse stopped, and turned, his paw stretched out ahead of him. "I promise, I promise that from now on I'll listen to you."
Hesitantly the ferret made to shake his paw. Momchillo, barely concealing his grin, snatched Fret's paw and shook it.
"But, you have to be fair."
"Fair?" Fret tried to pull away, but the mouse held him firm.
"You can't just say no to everything I suggest."
There was an extended pause until finally the ferret spoke. "Fine."
"Good." The mouse turned back, now grinning completely. That had worked out nicely. Perhaps, for now at least, Fret would not be so bothersome.
There was silence now, that seemed to stretch out forever. Left, they kept going left. Through cramped tunnels barely taller than Fret, to narrow passages Momchillo had to be pushed through, to wide passages that would not look out of place in a Palace- least of all one lined with the skulls of deadbeasts.
Contrary to Momchillo's expectations, Fret grew jumpier and jumpier the further on they went. The scuttling of a small pebble made the ferret leap into the air, his black and white fur standing on end. If he himself had not been on the verge of a panic attack, Momchillo would have laughed.
"You okay?" His voice was filled with genuine concern.
Fret gave the smallest of squeaks and a tiny nod.
"Let's- Let's get out of here." The mouse said with a swallow.
They continued with more caution. The cavern walls seemed to be closing in on them, and getting smaller and smaller. Panic was bubbling within both and Momchillo's movements were almost frantic now. Had he taken a wrong turn? Perhaps he'd taken a second left instead of a first? His heart was racing.
Now they turned left again, and squeezed through the smallest cavern yet. The walls of ice wrapped around him and squeezed him tight, like the coils of a serpent. He'd done something wrong, hadn't he? He had... he had... they were doomed. And it was his fault. It was all his fault.
Just as his ears began to droop in despair, the cavern came to an end. Momentarily, his worries vanished and the breath was taken from him.
It was a huge cavern. One that was reminiscent of Redwall's Great Hall, yet at the same time vastly different. The walls of ice around them shone with a brilliance to rival a thousand candles. At the center there lay a small pond, the water tinged green.
"Woah." The mouse's ears picked up the distant echo of his own voice as it bounced from corner to corner of the vast cavern.
"There's nothing to the left." Fret said quietly. "THERE'S NOTHING TO THE LEFT!" The ferret's paws were shaking madly, not from fear now, but from anger. "We're lost! We're doomed!" His voice, already loud, was magnified a hundredfold inside the walls of ice. "ALL BECAUSE YOU HAD A STUPID DREAM!" He was breathing deeply now, a whole cesspool of emotions boiling and tossing under him. Panic, rage, fear, anger, self-pity, regret... it was a mixture to make a murderer. "You had a stupid dream and you didn't listen to me when I told you it was stupid. 'Let's go left', 'Just keep going left', THERE IS NO LEFT!" He dragged his paws along his muzzle in despair. "We're doomed." His voice was strangely hollow. Shouting would give him no benefit, and he was too tired to cry. Not that he wanted to cry anyways, Momchillo would just make fun of him for it. And his last days alive would be spent listening to the stupid mouse mocking him.
"Relax Fret." The mouse was now holding a small rock in his paws. "I think I know exactly why we were supposed to come here."
"Other than to starve to death?" The ferret spat.
"You'll get it in a bit." The mouse sat upon the ground and tugged his tail closer, so that the knot that tied mouse to ferret was within reach.
Fret's eyes widened in horror and instinctively, he pulled away. "No! Nonononono! You're not smashing my tail in!"
"Fret!" The mouse sounded exasperated. "I can't drag you all the way back to Mossflower." His voice morphed into one of calm explanation- Abbot Martin's on a good day. "Look, I'll just bring this rock down quickly, the ice'll break and we'll be free. I bet it doesn't even hurt!"
"It will hurt! It will hurt very much, and I've had enough pain to last a lifetime!" The ferret made to turn around, tripped over his own tail and landed on the ground.
Momchillo, no longer as worried as before, laughed. It was not a cruel laugh, and not something he would have done if he could help it. It was just... there hadn't been much to laugh at in the past few weeks.
Fret whimpered, and brought his paws to his face. Pathetic, why was he always so pathetic and clumsy and... always at the worst times. "You just said you'd listen to me! Y-you promised."
That made Momchillo pause. The mouse sighed. "Fret... You're right. You're right and we're lost and it's all my fault. Now, you can pick an exit."
A tiny sigh of relief escaped the ferret, who swiveled around to find something they could both fit through. "That tunnel doesn't look half-ba-AWAWAWAW!" Instinctively, the ferret went for his tail. It was, thankfully, whole. Yet at the same time it hurt worse than Hellgates. It was the kind of throbbing pain found only on the most uncomfortable of bruises.
Momchillo was on his feetpaw now. His own tail hurt very much, but he did not complain. It was a necessary evil and besides, the feeling of his tail whipping freely back and forth behind him again was worth it. Or at least it was, until Fret started complaining.
"You promised!" He snapped.
"Sorry Fret." The mouse turned around to find the ferret glaring at him skeptically. "I am sorry. But we have to be realistic. I am a pragma-"
"You're a bully." The ferret snapped. "But no matter how much you pick on me, I'm the bully, I'm the wrong one, I'm the vermin."
"The difference Fret, is that what I just did is for the good of both of us. Stabbing me wouldn't have helped much-"
"No! Stop! Stop blaming me!"
"Then don't blame me!"
The pair growled at each other, paws clenched. Then the noise came, a low hiss that made them stop and shiver suddenly.
"Did you hear that?" Fret was quivering, his paws no longer clenched, but desperately trembling. His voice was barely a squeak, and yet nevertheless Momchillo's sensitive ears picked up the sound.
He did the smallest of nods, and both remained shaking in silence. There was no noise and the quiet stretched out into eternity. Then the hiss returned, louder this time, and closer.
The mouse was not sure when they had started hugging, but was suddenly aware that they were each holding the other as firmly as possible. Not that that helped. Fear crept through every inch of their forms and filled them up, all the way from their flattened ears to their tails, intertwined for comfort both needed yet neither could give.
And then there was the loudest hiss yet, and the great, ugly head of a snake, it's scales a beautiful, shimmering white, slithered free of an icy cavern above the terrified two.
Momchillo did not remember everything clearly. He knew that with speed neither could hope to match, the snake's ugly head shot forwards. Perhaps Fret had pulled him out of the way. Perhaps he had pulled Fret out of the way. Perhaps they had both done it. Yet somehow, the reptile missed and hit the ice. Neither really cared, or noticed. All they knew was that a second later they were hurtling away. The mouse was unsure whether they were screaming or not. His mouth was open, but the only sound he could hear was the mad beating of his own heart.
All instructions were forgotten. Going left or right no longer mattered, so long as it put some distance between them and their certain death. Their paws pounded like pistons as they shot through the ice. Adrenaline rushed through him, like overflowing milk, making him race at speeds he had either never achieved or had ever needed to reach.
Then Fret slipped, and his rodent heart missed a beat. The snake lunged, but the ferret's momentum and the cold ice slid him just out of reach. To Momchillo's immense relief the ferret was back to running in mere moments.
Surely this was not their end. It couldn't be, for why else would he have dreamt of coming here. Unless Fret was right and it had just been a stupid dream. One that had doomed them both.
Then he slipped and was sliding along the ice. In a sudden, mad panic, he managed to scramble forwards, not even sure where he was going. He did not stop his desperate racing for anything. Not to notice the sudden darkness of the particular tunnel he'd entered. Not to notice that he was heading up something. Not even to notice that the snake was no longer chasing after him.
What he did notice, after his panic had subsided, was that he was tired. His limbs were aching in pain, and now that he was no longer running on adrenaline, literally and figuratively, he was all out of fight. The mere thought of getting up from where he lay was torment. His heart pattered like a vicious drum that would not cease it's beating. He was hungry. He was cold. He was thirsty. And he was so, so tired...
It was with a jolt that he remembered Fret, and suddenly the adrenaline returned. His heartbeat shot up, faster and more violently than ever. "FRET!" His voice was shrill with panic, and echoed around him- as if underlining his loneliness. He shot to his feetpaws and searched around him. The ferret was nowhere to be seen. He heard something, the definite hiss of a serpent, and something else. A whimper that was all too familiar, and shook him to the very core.
His heart racing he shot forwards through the tunnel, and came to a halt at the mouth of a tunnel, one suspended several feet off the ground. His heart stopped and his eyes widened in horror.
Fret was frozen in place, unable to move beyond the heart-rending quivering of his black and white form. His eyes were wide and wet, yet fixed in the gaze of the serpent, which advanced ever-so-slowly towards him. The ferret's back was against a wall, and the tunnel was too narrow for him to somehow get around the snake.
He was not surprised to find tears were trailing down his cheeks. As much as they bickered, all the anger and resentment... they had grown up together. They had been classmates, neighbors... The mouse remembered vividly that they had once played together every day. Him and Fret and Matiya and Grollo. That had been a long time ago, yet the memories came flooding in. Every time they'd try and fail to pillage the kitchens. All the clever plans they would spend most of the day disagreeing over, only for whatever they did try to fail. All the times they had played Hide and Seek, only for Fret to be scolded for getting himself filthy by vanishing up a chimney. All the times they had come crashing into some poor beast while they chased one another around.
Yet Grollo was gone. Matiya was dead. And Fret... was about to be lunch. And it was his fault. It was all his fault.
His ears fell and his face contorted horribly. He could barely see anything from all the wetness in his eyes. Not like this... it couldn't end like this. He wanted to shout something, anything. But what? Fret could not run and shouting at him to do so would only make him feel worse. He wanted to apologize. He should have listened. It was a stupid dream, and a stupid idea and... Fret was going to die.
"What'sssss wrong? Why sssssssssssso sssssssssssssscared?" The great, white serpent came to a halt in front of the poor, frightened mustelid, it's face curled into a cruel smile. "I can ssssssssssssee it, you're sssssssssssshivering. I can sssssssssmell it, you're ssssssssweating. I can hear it. Your heartssssssss beating. Don't be ssssssssssssscared. Everything will be fine."
The snake's eyes bore into the ferret's, and the eyes seemed to be changing colour. Once icy blue, then a darker shade and darker still, till the eyes were black as night.
Momchillo watched on. Not that he wanted to see Fret's demise, yet there was no taking his eyes away from it.
Fret stopped shivering suddenly. His body seemed to relax, ever-so-slightly. His eyelids drooped. And then the snake struck, and with a sob Momchillo managed to pull away.
His paws were clamped over his face and his legs gave out from under him. Fret, Fret was dead. Just like every other beast he had ever been friends with. And yet there was something more horrible about this. This was his fault. He had gone and convinced, or rather, forced, his companion into this. This horrible fate. He doubted anyone deserved to be eaten alive- least of all someone he had spent so many seasons laughing alongside.
"You're a bully!" The ferret's words echoed throughout the young mouse's head. Every argument, every snap, every conversation- all at once.
"It's alright for you, because you're a mouse! When we- If we ever get back to Redwall you'll be welcomed home! I'm not welcome anywhere! And for what? Because of my temper? My 'bad-temper'? Or because I'm not an abbeybeast? Because I-I-I chose to be bad? Because I l-lie and s-snap and-"
"You promised!"
"Ferret soup? That's bad even by your standards. And you won't have to. I'm coming too!"
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" He rocked back and forth desperately. Tears were running down the side of his face, like raindrops on a window.
"I'm sorry too Fret." His voice was barely audible. A squeak that could not begin to think about spreading it's echo.
And now... Now Momchillo was alone.
Suddenly, there was a tremendous crash. A horrible crunch. And the whole underworld of ice seemed to shake and shiver, like some great beast that had been dealt a sound.
Momchillo peaked out from around his tunnel, and felt his hopes lift. The snake lay motionless, save for it's writhing tail. A humongous bolder lay on top of it's lower neck. And just one swallow shy of vanishing were a pair of weakly-kicking feetpaws.
"Fret!" It was foolish of him to rise so quickly. Balance was lost in favour of exhaustion and the mouse teetered over the edge. He landed on the smooth scales of the dying serpent and scrambled to his feet. Racing along it's long form and climbing over the boulder Momchillo found the snake. It's eyes stared into space, a familiar brown colour. But it's eyes were the least of Momchillo's concerns. And first amongst them was Fret the ferret.
Grabbing the mustelid by his feetpaws Momchillo pulled with all his might, until Fret came free of the jaws of death with a gasp. The ferret's attempts at refilling his lungs were abruptly cut short by the mouse that hugged him.
"Oh Fret! I'm so, so sorry! I-I-I'msogladyou'realive!"
With another gasp Fret managed to pull free. He slid to the ground, panting. He looked alright, save for the mess that was his slime-covered fur. His eyes were filled with worry, but as soon as he had recovered some breath they shrunk back into his signature scowl.
"Martin the Warrior, eh? Every left turn, eh? Nothing's going to kill me, eh? We won't get lost, eh?"
The mouse raised his paws in defense. "I'm sorry Fret. I- you have no idea how sorry I am- I d-didn't want. I didn't want any of- I-I-I'm-"
"Save your breath! You're just going to keep saying that until you need me to do something- then when I say I don't want to do it, you're going to make me do it anyways! I-I and when I'm sorry-" His voice cracked slightly. "When I-"
"Fret! I'm sorry! Okay? I mean it! I'm not lying, I-"
Fret smacked him. His claws did not dig deep, but blood still dripped from the cuts. "You have no idea, how long I've wanted to do that for!"
Momchillo did not mind the pain, he'd had worse bee stings. "I get you're mad-"
"Mad? Mad! I WAS ALMOST A BLOODY LUNCH!"
Bloody lunch. Bloody lunch. Bloody lunch. The words bounced from cavern to cavern, like a ball being passed from paw to paw.
There was a silence, wherein all that was heard was Fret's panting. Then, all of a sudden, Momchillo laughed. He had no idea why he did it. There was nothing funny about what had just happened. Was it relief? Was it meanness? It did not last very long, and left as abruptly as it had come. But by the time it was over Fret looked more hurt than Momchillo had ever seen him and guilt made his ears droop.
The mouse slid down on the ice so that he sat next to the ferret.
"If it's any consolation. I think you'd have given it indigestion."
Fret glared at him, and for a second it looked like he was about to lash out again.
"But as fun as that would be. I'm glad you're alive. You don't have to believe me, but I am sorry."
Fret's glare seemed to melt away, but the ferret still turned away from him with a skeptical 'humph'.
"Hahahahaha! Best bait in seasons!" A new voice made both children stare at the bolder that had saved them both. And from behind it popped the white old face of a grinning stoat. "Been 'untin' this beauty fer ever!" At the looks on their faces he cocked his head slightly. "Ye looked older from up above."
Footnote: Snakes are basically the dragons of Redwall. They're often used in these kind of caverns throughout the series and I figured that I wanted to write one (if only for the S's). Of course at the same time I didn't want this to just come out of nowhere- so there was some... dare I call it foreshadowing? Well there was Clogg's story from Chapter 32 and there were all the skeletons littering this place so yeah... not out-of-nowhere but hopefully somewhat surprising. Or rather... intense.
So yeah, I left you guys on another cliffhanger... Don't worry, they should be... mostly fine. The expression is 'better the devil you know' but stoats are more manageable than snakes... generally.
For now we shall be leaving Fret and Momchillo behind and heading back South to catch up with one character I don't know if you've forgotten or not...