"Fear not the man who has practiced ten thousand moves once. Fear the man who has practiced one move ten thousand times." ~Bruce Lee.
The dark rainstorm had passed over Mossflower, and the golden sun returned to the bright and cloudless blue sky. Redwall Abbey's denizens turned out onto the shower-soaked front lawns for play and relaxation.
"So…" Lunafreya walked beside Abbot Curtis through the Strawberry Patch, still freshly dripping with rainwater. They watched as the Sandeye siblings walked past them in the direction of the Pond. Amelia and Falmur led the Dibbuns in a line paw-in-paw in the opposite direction. "Highborn royalty from the Eastern Islands, in our modest little Abbey; and the subjects of an ancient historical prophecy, no less. Who'd have thought it? Will wonders never cease, Curtis?"
"I haven't the foggiest idea, Lunafreya," Curtis sat down on a beechlog with his back to the patch, and Lunafreya did the same. "But I have a feeling that this is only the beginning of our miracles. Martin the Warrior may have more surprises in store for us yet."
Jared washed in the Pond while Madeline filled her watering can. They exchanged hugs and kisses, then separated.
Wiping his facefur on his shirt, Jared made his way to the Orchard. He sat down on the upturned wheelbarrow that sat inside the main entrance. The teenage squirrel leaned back and closed his eyes, soaking in the sunlight behind his eyelids.
In his mind's eye, he saw the figure of Martin the Warrior, armored in impressive silver and wielding his mighty blade. The words "I Am That Is" flashed in the brilliant golden sunlight. A large decorated shield hung on his other arm, with a bold letter "M" inscribed in its center. Vermin of all kinds fled from him in every direction as Martin raised his awesome sword to the skies, blade pointed directly upwards.
The scene instantly changed. He saw himself shoulders to toes adorned in the cultural Githinsteel armor of his homeland. Eastern symbols decorated his gauntlets and cuirass, Maraul's national crest stamped on his chest. He gripped Martin's legendary sword in one paw, and a sword of his own making in the other. His switchblade hung sheathed on his belt. A Githinsteel shield lay strapped across his back.
"Jared?"
His eyes snapped open at the voice. Jacob stood at the entrance to the Orchard, leaning coolly against one of the red sandstone arches.
"Huh?" Jared pulled himself back to reality. "What's up, Jacob? Sorry, I was daydreaming."
"Think fast, mate." Jacob tossed Jared a wax-sealed parchment scroll, which the squirrel caught reflexively in midair. "One of the Guosim shrews came by and asked me to bring this to you."
Jared looked up at the wolf with a raised eyebrow, who only nodded without a word. He slipped a claw underneath the wax seal and carefully pried the scroll open.
Jared Sandeye,
I hope my letter finds you and your sister in good health. I write to you vis-à-vis our brief discussion about the Guosim's practice of unarmed martial arts, and your apparent background in the combat style, at yesterday's most magnificent Nameday Feast. (Thank you for that, by the way, it was all so wonderfully delicious! A most flawless feast from beginning to end!)
Following in the spirit of our talk, it is with great pleasure that I inform you that the Guosim will be hosting a special series of martial arts classes over the coming days with our southern kin, the Guerilla Union of Roving and Fighting Shrews (Guoraf). They have traveled no short distance to visit us for the autumn season. I would like to personally offer you the opportunity to participate.
If yourself and Madeline would be interested in this opportunity, seek us out in northeastern Mossflower at the ruins of old Brockhall. Do feel free to bring along any friends as well. Anybeast is welcome to take part in the tournament regardless of species or gender, woodlander and vermin alike.
We look forward to seeing you.
Warmest regards,
Log-a-Log Tipuka.
The wolf tilted his head, his brow furrowed quizzically. "Martial arts classes, huh?" He then leaned one arm over Jared's shoulder, his grin of anticipation showing his sharp white canines. "Well? Are you going to take them up on their offer? Lucky for you, I know the way to Brockhall. I can lead the way there from Redwall with my eyes closed."
When Jared raised another dubious eyebrow at him, he awkwardly added with a dismissive wave of his paw, "Uh…don't quote me on that."
Jared rolled up the scroll with a contemplative expression. "I might as well. I'm the Abbey Warrior now, aren't I? I need all the training I can get. Besides, I know better than anybeast when I'm getting that itch to throw myself into the fighting ring again."
He reached up to pat Jacob on the back. "Thanks for bringing this to me. I'd better tell Madeline. Maybe the Guosim can teach her some self-defense techniques. They'll be useful if Deathblade and his cronies ever try to get the jump on us."
"I'm coming, too," Jacob asserted, and he followed Jared out of the Orchard and onto the lawn. "Dallas taught me some wrestling, but never touched on martial arts all that much. I'll bet the Guosim can teach me a thing or two as well."
"I promise I'll get to your sword and dagger before the week is out, Jacob," Jared led the way to the greenhouse, dropping the Guosim's scroll in his trouser pocket. "There's just so much happening at once, and it's all so overwhelming."
"Hey, you're the blacksmith, not me," Jacob shrugged nonchalantly. "You can get to it on your own time. Besides, it's not like I put you on a deadline or anything. I may be a big strong wolf, but even I know the value of patience."
"By the way," Jared stopped when they passed the Pond to ask, "May I call you Jake?"
"Why not?" Jacob nodded his approval. "Dallas calls me Jake. Sure, I don't mind at all."
"If Dallas trusts you, then so do I, Jake." Jared exhaled a sigh of relief and resumed walking. "It's good to have you here at Redwall. I'm glad you're on our side."
At the greenhouse, Sister Fanistra reviewed the letter from Tipuka.
"Doesn't this sound exciting?" Fanistra passed the letter to Bethany, who put down the flower crown she weaved to read it.. "It's so much like the Guosim to put on a competition like this. I'm sure you'll have loads of fun, Jared!"
"Does that mean you're going to let me participate, Sister Fanistra?" Jared gaped at her, honestly surprised. "I honestly would've thought you'd try to talk me out of it, because you don't want me to get hurt and all that."
"Oh, no, sweetheart," Fanistra planted a reassuring kiss on Jared's forehead and lovingly stroked the backs of his ears. "I'd want you to do what makes you happy, to follow your passions and your dreams. Not unlike your blacksmithing work, and is that not your passion? Besides, you're Martin's chosen Champion now. Your training has begun, Abbey Warrior, to shape you into the guardian of Redwall that you are destined to be. No, I want you to do this, Jared. This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity with the Guosim. You may never get a chance like this ever again. Go for it with all your heart. Who knows? Some good things might come of it!"
With a thankful smile, Jared hugged Fanistra around the waist. The black-brown mousemaid chuckled, rubbing and kissing his headfur between the ears.
"In that case, want to come along, Maddie?" Jared asked when Fanistra had turned back to her work. He looked on as Madeline sprinkled water over her box of purple alyssums. "I thought you might want to learn some self-defense styles from the Guosim. Or at the very least, act as my moral support."
Madeline put her watering can aside, thinking. "I'm coming with you, Jared." She put her paws on Jared's shoulders. "If you're going to fight in this competition, I'll be there to support you all the way, beginning to end." The younger Sandeye sibling spoke with uncharacteristic assertiveness. "There's no way I'd let an occasion like this pass me by."
"I always know I can count on you, Maddie," Jared hugged his sister around the waist. "How about you, Larina?" he asked Larina next, who was trimming the marigolds.
"Oh, I don't know," Larina bit her lip anxiously, her tone of voice unsure, hesitant. She looked up at Jared as he came near to her. "I don't think martial arts is really for me. I'd hate to get hurt out there."
"Come on, Larina, it might be fun!" Jared tilted his head to one side, his face soft and eyes full of empathy. "You can be a spectator, and who knows? Maybe you'll even learn something!"
Larina could not deny the truth in his words and the gentleness in his eyes. She sighed in surrender, and then nodded.
"All right. I'll come." She placed a paw on Jared's cheek, rubbing his facefur between her fingers. "You're lucky I find you attractive, you cheeky squirrel."
Jared turned to plant a kiss on Larina's palm, blushing a vague, barely-noticeable shade of red. "Thank you, Larina. You won't regret this, I promise. Well, it's settled then." He spoke to the others. "We'd better go tell Father Abbot about this too. Although I'm more than sure that, given the present circumstances, he might not allow us to leave Redwall because of Deathblade. But Deathblade or not," A confident twinkle entered his eyes. "I'm going anyway."
To Jared's relief, Curtis did give his consent, and without hesitation.
"Two days of travel from here to Brockhall, as the Sparra flies," the Abbot advised them in the Great Hall. "I expect you four to take care of and protect each other. There's no knowing if Nagrig Deathblade's bloodthirsty vermin may be lurking out there in the forest. So, keep your eyes sharp and your minds sharper. Always stay together and remain ever vigilant. These are uncertain and dangerous times. War is on the horizon. Strength and courage of every kind will be needed in the days to come. Learn what you can from our woodland friends and apply that knowledge to your lives, however that may be. Go with my blessing, dear children, and please do give the Guosim and Guoraf my loving regards. May Martin's spirit protect you."
The quartet bowed, then Madeline, Larina, and Jacob filed out of the Great Hall. Jared approached Brother Timms and the Abbot.
"Well, then," the impressed Curtis placed his paws together in his lap, fingers interlaced, and regarded Jared kindly. "This is the beginning of your Abbey Warrior's training, isn't it, Jared?"
"You could say that, Father Abbot," Jared put his paws in his pockets, unnaturally nonchalant. "All of this is so overwhelming. The idea that Martin would choose me as his Champion and Warrior…Time will tell if I'm ready for it."
"You believe you're not worthy of the mantle, Jared?" Worry crossed Curtis' brow. "Martin chose you, after all. You are worthy of his Sword, his armor, and his shield." He turned around in his chair to give the portrait of Martin on the Tapestry a momentary glance. "What do you think he would say if he heard you doubting yourself so?"
When the young, anxious, lip-biting squirrel did not answer, Timms counseled him, "As harsh as this may be for you to hear, Jared, character growth shouldn't be the foremost thing on your mind when Redwall and Mossflower Forest are in grave danger."
"But I don't understand," Jared looked above the Tapestry at the Sword of Martin resting in its mantelpiece. "Only the truly worthy beasts may wield the Sword of Martin. The pure of heart, the sharp of mind, and the courageous of spirit. I…I'm just not sure if I have any of those things yet."
He stared down when the harvest mouse took his paws. "Then here is where your journey begins to find your purity, your sharpness, and especially your courage. But know that Martin has already judged you worthy to wield his legendary Sword. It is up to you to discover that same worth in yourself."
"How?" Jared's voice lowered to an insecure whisper. "How do I find that worth, Father Abbot?"
A knowing smile appeared on Timms lips. He lifted a finger blindly and pressed it to Jared's heart. "You'll know, Jared, in here. You'll recognize it when it comes."
As Curtis returned Jared's paw to him, he beamed radiantly, hopefully. "Best of luck with the Guosim and Guoraf, Jared. May your heart be your guiding key!"
Lost for words, Jared nodded in response. But the wise mice's words followed him out of the Great Hall and to the Front Gates of Redwall. As he emerged out into the surrounding forest, the words hung over him like a cloud of profound thought.
"Are you all packed, my dears?" Sister Fanistra asked, checking, double-checking, and triple-checking everyone's bags. "Weapons? Change of clothes? Plenty of food and drinks? You know I can't help but worry about both of you."
She cupped the Sandeyes' faces in her paws. "You two are like my little children, and you know full well that I'll always look out for both of you."
She hugged them close to her chest and kissed their foreheads. "Have a wonderful time! Be careful out there! Don't hurt yourselves or the Guosim and Guoraf too much! I want to hear all about it when you return!" Fanistra also hugged and kissed Larina, and Jacob was kind enough to kneel on the ground so she could pat and kiss him on the head.
As the foursome stepped out onto the road, Fanistra waved to them, not stopping until they were nothing but unidentifiable specks in the distance.
The trek to Brockhall was rather uneventful. The quartet spent the first night at the St. Ninian's Church, in the care of the Bronzespike and Bankvole families. They set off again the next morning. Jacob led the three squirrels northeast through the forest. They slept beneath the canopies of overhanging trees on the second night. The hypnotic dripping of gentle rain lulled them peacefully to sleep.
When they arrived at Brockhall on the morning of the third day, however, they found the area empty.
"Here we are!" Jacob spread his arms wide with a dramatic flair. "Brockhall!"
"Are you sure this is it?" Jared asked Jacob, staring dubiously at the dramatic arctic-furred wolf. Madeline and Larina scoured the surrounding area, but found nobeast there. "We followed you straight to the source. I hope you haven't intentionally led us astray, Jake."
"We've never been to Brockhall before," Madeline explained, shrugging her shoulders cluelessly. "This is our very first time here. I swear to Martin, if you've brought us to the wrong place, Jake…" She gripped her walking stick with both paws like a quarterstaff.
"This is the place," Jacob confirmed, pointing a claw at the wooden door embedded in the middle of the tree trunk. "It's been a long time since I've been here, if I'm being honest. Dallas had a job here a few summers ago repairing and varnishing that door, and a bunch of other things on the inside. He even allowed me to help him. I've never forgotten it."
"I've only been to Brockhall once myself," Larina added, nodding. "My parents and I often bring food from our farm to the Guosim once a month. Come to think of it, we need to do that soon before the weather gets colder."
"I'll go check around the back," Jared tucked Tipuka's letter into his messenger bag. "If the Guosim are there, then we're in the right place."
"Oh, please be careful, Jared!" Larina called after him as he stepped up to the front door.
"Yes, we'll be watching your back, Jared!" Madeline added, biting her claws nervously.
"If we hear fighting, we'll come rushing right around to help you," Jacob assured, wrapping one paw around the hilt of his fencing sabre.
Jared nodded over his shoulder at them, walking around to the back of the enormous tree. He found himself surrounded by a group of towering oak, ash, and maple trees on all sides, with not a single beast in sight. A yard or so away, beneath a canopy of intertwined branches that partially blocked out the sun, a familiar figure sat cross-legged on a lengthy oak log lying horizontal on the ground.
"Gavlin?" Jared breathed a sigh of relief and approached the young shrew.
"You seek Log-a-Log Tipuka," Gavlin answered in a distant whisper. It was a statement, not a question.
"Yeah, I do," Jared confirmed, drawing within earshot of the shrew. "Maddie and I got his letter two days ago. Can you let him know we're here?"
Gavlin uncrossed his legs and stood to his feet. He approached Jared with confident strides. "I can take you to him straight away. But first, a little test."
"What kind of test?" Jared raised a clueless, dubious eyebrow.
Gavlin raised his paws and folded one paw over a closed fist. "This one."
In a fraction of a second, Gavlin's open paw hammered at Jared from above. Caught by surprise, the squirrel swept his footpaws through the dirt. He sidestepped to throw his left arm across the front of his body. His forearm rotated to press and sweep aside the incoming punch.
In that same instant, he realized. This was a test not of strength, but of skill. Evasion, not retaliation.
His right paw clenched into a fist and hooked sideways under the shrew's chest. But Gavlin's elbow blocked it and swung upward to strike his jaw.
Jared ducked beneath the elbow in half a second. He stepped onto the horizontal oak log in the next. One arm lifted above his head; the other blocked low in front of his body.
He snapped into the mindset of Kōnōtash, one of the many martial arts practiced in his homeland. Gavlin spun around to leap onto the log in front of him.
What had he been thinking, coming in here? Was Gavlin testing him or just showing off? Did it matter?
He had scarce time to think about it when Gavlin's leg came shooting at him. Knee lifted to the waist. Toes pulled back, quickly extending the foot at the target. A straight snap kick to his chest.
Now he recognized the form. Timakwo, one of the Eastern Shrew styles.
Jared stepped forty-five degrees to his right to evade the attack. But Gavlin kept coming. One kick after another to his torso and lower body. Jared blocked each blow with his arms and elbows or twisted his body to evade.
Time to improvise.
His paws met to counter the series of kicks. His left paw made an outward block with the inside wrist. His right paw moved downward with the outside wrist.
Perfect! Gavlin's foot caught clean beneath his paws. A small smirk tugged at Jared's lips. Gavlin stood still and stared dumbfounded at his locked foot.
He locked Gavlin's ankle in a vice grip. His left forefist swung upward in a half-circle to tap Gavlin in the chin. The shrew caught the fist in a grip and clenched it tight until the knuckles turned red.
But Jared had another ace up his sleeve. He pushed Gavlin's elevated foot up and away from himself, throwing the shrew off-balance. Gavlin stumbled backward. His arms and legs flailed to try to regain his footing.
Jared reined in his breathing until it was near silent. If Gavlin was testing him, then he'd have to do the same. No more playing gently.
He pushed through with the entire right side of his body. His straight punch broke through at high speed.
Gavlin recoiled as the punch made impact with his stomach. He drew in his belly to contain the wind from being driven out of him. Again, Jared smirked; he had the shrew on the retreat.
"Jared!"
Through his flurry of punches, in his peripheral vision, he saw Jacob coming around the bend towards him and Gavlin. Madeline and Larina ran at his heels.
"Oh, my goodness!" Madeline flinched and withdrew behind Jacob's shoulders. "They're fighting!"
"Whoa, look at them go!" Jacob's eyes widened and his jaw dropped, riveted by the action. "Get him, Jared! Kick his tail into next season!" He grinned widely, showing his canines from watching Jared deliver punch after punch, occasionally punctuated by swinging kicks and arcing chops.
"Jared! Gavlin!" Larina cried out to the sparring duo. She gripped her walking stick with both paws like a bo staff, and rocked back and forth on her toes, as if conflicted with whether to interfere or not. "Can't we settle this peacefully?"
"Don't bother!" Gavlin managed to exclaim as Jared's fist swung again into his diaphragm. He stepped backward to dodge it and adjust his footing. He ducked, bobbed, and weaved through and between Jared's punches, kicks, and chops, still retreating. "This is between me and him!"
He stopped midway along the log. Jared's eyes widened and his eyebrows lifted in surprise. The shrew pointed his left foot straight. His right foot shifted behind him and pointed ninety degrees perpendicular.
Before Jared had a chance to react, Gavlin raised his knee and rotated his body another ninety degrees in one movement while extending his leg.
The sudden kick to his torso elicited an exclaim of surprise and pain. Madeline and Larina screamed in terror. Jacob gasped and almost moved to catch him. The kick launched Jared off the log and flying into an oak tree trunk.
Frantic but focusing, Jared threw his palms and feet out behind him. They met the tough and fibrous bark of the tree. He planted his feet on the wall and propelled himself forward into a series of flying kicks to Gavlin's chin. But the shrew slapped his legs down, planting his feet back flat onto the log.
By now, a cold sweat had accumulated on Jared's brow and the back of his neck. His breathing became more audible, almost heavy.
He had to wrap this up now. He had to pass Gavlin's test. The others were cheering now, encouraging, empowering, motivating him.
He stepped forward and launched himself off the log into the air, spinning round to face his opponent. Madeline and Larina gasped aloud in unison. Jacob cried out in awe. Gavlin's eyes followed and his guard went up. Jared waited for gravity to take over. Then—
He ducked under the retaliatory crescent kick and placed his heel behind the shrew's. His foot pulled with a contrary movement to Gavlin's other leg.
Gavlin fell to the ground on his back. Jacob, Madeline, and Larina cheered.
Gavlin wriggled out of his opponent's grip and climbed back to his feet. Jared lunged to deliver a forward punch to Gavlin's stomach. Then he finished by jumping into the air and kicking the shrew in the chest.
Gavlin stumbled and fell off the log to the ground on his back. Jacob gave a howling cheer at the top of his lungs. Madeline and Larina breathed a sigh of relief together.
"Good…job…" Gavlin climbed back to his feet, brushing dirt and wood chips from his clothes. He bent over to catch his breath, resting his paws on his knees. "You've got…skills, Jared. That's for sure."
"Are you all right, Gavlin?" Jared asked, concerned. He stepped down from the log and hurried to the shrew's side, putting a worried paw on his shoulder.
"Yeah, yeah…" Gavlin held a paw to his chest where Jared had kicked him, laughing through his pain but wincing a bit. His other paw patted Jared's on his shoulder. "I've been hit worse. I'll be fine." He lifted his head, smiling genuinely. "In any case, you passed my test, mate."
"Wait…test?" Larina asked, the squirrelmaid furrowing her brow in confusion. Madeline looked between Jared and Gavlin cluelessly, while Jacob snickered. "This whole fight was all…a test?"
"Well, duh. Of course." Gavlin let out a deep snicker, which was quickly replaced by a grunt and another wince of pain. "A test of his skill, not his strength. Not so much retaliation as evasion. I wanted to see Jared's skills to satisfy my own curiosity."
"So, not everybeast who comes in here who wants to participate in the martial arts classes will have to go through the same test, will they?" Jacob asked, watching the shrew warily. Madeline and Larina stepped back behind the wolf's shoulders.
Gavlin responded with a cheeky smirk. "Why? You want to fight, too?"
When they put up their palms and protested, the cheeky shrew grinned from ear to ear with a playful bark of laughter, standing up straight. "Nah, I'm just pulling your legs! Come on!"
A cool, crisp air met the quartet when they entered Brockhall, finding themselves in a large main hall. Thick dirt and roots strewn chaotically about underpaw made up the floor. It glittered brightly in the beams of golden sunlight shining in at perfect angles from holes in the tree trunk that made up the ceiling.
Over two dozen shrews populated the space. At their master's call, they all moved in unison with loud exclamations, punching, kicking, dodging, and guarding. Against the walls on either side, small groups of shrews stood stretching and bending. Others sat on tree stumps or furniture woven of roots, watching the action and chatting amongst themselves.
"Recognize it?" Gavlin asked Jared, still wearing his cheeky grin from earlier.
"Gōryjūn!" Jared exclaimed, nodding, recognizing the "hard-soft" form in an instant. "One of the styles from the land of Senshan!" Mesmerized, he watched the Guosim and Guoraf moving almost seamlessly between hard strikes, kicks and closed-paw punches, and soft, open-paw blocks and locks.
"Aye!" Gavlin patted Jared heartily on the back. "From the Kyuna province!" He led the way to a familiar figure who stood with their back to them, facing the practicing shrews. The creature turned at the sound of their approach, and immediately broke into a broad smile.
"Ah-ha!" Tipuka beamed at the sight of the Sandeyes. Gavlin went to stand by his side. "The creatures of the hour! You made it! Welcome to Brockhall, Sandeyes! I knew my letter would reach your paws!"
"We came as soon as we got your message, Log-a-Log Tipuka," Jared shook Tipuka's paw, matching his smile. "We wouldn't miss this opportunity for the world."
"I trust your journey to Brockhall was smooth?" Tipuka asked, turning to shaking Madeline's paw. "I know there's been some rain over the last couple of days. I hope it didn't inconvenience you and your friends in any way."
"No, not at all, sir," Madeline shook her head, balancing her paw delicately in Tipuka's. "The rain didn't stop us one bit."
"That's wonderful news," Tipuka flashed the siblings a toothy grin. He turned over his shoulder at Gavlin, who had his eyes closed, breathing in and out to try to stem the pain in his body. "What happened between you and the Sandeyes, Gavlin? You didn't provoke them, did you, dear boy?" He took his nephew's face in one paw and his shoulder in the other.
"Wha—Nah, I'm fine, Uncle!" Gavlin opened his eyes to give his uncle a toothy grin. "I only gave Jared a little test of strength and skill. It turned out better than I expected. He got me good, but I think I'll be fine."
"No, you won't absolutely be fine, Gav." Tipuka held his nephew by the shoulders and turned him around. "You must get those bruises looked at, nephew. I need you in top form for the competition, and for your long-term health as well."
"Uncle!" Gavlin protested, struggling against Tipuka's iron grip. "Gerroff, lemme go—I can fight!"
"Not in your condition, you can't, lad! Tillie!" He called over a young female Guoraf shrew standing on the sidelines, and she hurried to his side. "Can you please be a dear and escort Gavlin to the infirmary?" Tillie responded with a nod and a bright smile. Gavlin exhaled in relief and wrapped his arms around himself.
"Thank you, dear." Tipuka patted Gavlin on the back lightly.
"Don't beat Jared up too much, Uncle." Gavlin teased cheekily as he fell into step beside Tillie.
"You know I always keep my promises, Gavlin." Tipuka kissed his nephew tenderly on the forehead before sending him on his way.
"Worry about yourself first, Gavlin," Jared called after the teenage shrew before he disappeared down the hall. "Will he be all right?" he asked Tipuka.
"Don't worry your pretty little heart, Jared," Tipuka clapped Jared on the shoulder and patted him on the back. "Our healers are the best of their kind in Mossflower, contested only by those at Redwall, of course. They've never failed us before and I reckon they won't now. Gavlin will be just fine; I am more than sure of it."
He extended his paw to Larina. "Miss Skyleaf. How wonderful to see you. I remember meeting you at the Nameday Feast. Glad you could come join us."
"Thank you, Log-a-Log Tipuka." Larina giggled as Tipuka bent down to kiss the back of her paw, daintily holding it in his own. "I'm here to support the Sandeyes, yes, but I won't be participating."
"Nothing wrong with that, Larina." Tipuka reassured her, shaking the squirrelmaid's paw. "Everyone needs a cheerleader, after all. We can teach you some basic self-defense techniques. Or if that's not your fancy, there's always meditation arts."
"Hey! Jacob!" A teenage shrew emerged from the crowd, breathing deeply from the exertions of his training. He wiped sweat from his brow, grinning from ear to ear.
"Remy!" Jacob matched the shrew's grin, and the two of them clasped paws together. "Good to see you, mate!"
"Thank you for delivering the Log-a-Log's message to the Sandeyes, mate." Remy squeezed Jacob's paw as a gesture of gratitude. "I knew I could trust you. I'd have done it myself, but the Log-a-Log wanted me right back here at Brockhall to help organize the classes."
"You picked the right beast for the job, Remy." Jacob returned the gesture, also squeezing Remy's paw. "I'm excited to see what the Guosim and Guoraf have to offer."
A devious twinkle appeared in Remy's eyes. "Would you like a demonstration?"
Bringing his paws back, Remy struck a high, narrow stance, elbows close to his body. Arms positioned across his center, elbows inward and forwards. His footpaws gripped the ground, almost seemingly to clamp the rough dirt between his toes. Jacob watched the shrew closely, raising an eyebrow in curious confusion.
Everyone (except for Tipuka) gasped when Remy threw two punches straight at Jacob. Exclaiming in surprise, the wolf strafed and sidestepped to evade the sudden attacks. Remy lowered his fists after each punch before raising them again. Every blow struck empty air or grazed Jacob's body.
Jacob backed up against the nearest wall. Jared moved to intervene. Tipuka held an arm across his chest with a strange discreet wink.
Cornered, Jacob shook his footpaws out of their sandals. He twirled his body around the punching shrew and threw a hard right punch square into Remy's chest.
Remy recoiled from the blow interrupting his fist flurry. A playful smirk pulled at Jacob's lips.
He seized Remy by the shoulders and spun around, swinging his feet through the bark-ridden dirt. The movement pushed the shrew into the wall that the wolf had vacated. Jacob gritted his teeth and pressed into Remy with his thick muscles and heavy body.
Instead of screaming, Remy was laughing. "All right! 'Nuff, 'nuff! I give, Jacob! Gerroff me!"
Jacob broke into barks of laughter and relented, lifting his body from Remy's. The shrew exhaled, relaxing and chuckling. While Remy brushed bark and dirt from his tunic, Jacob shook dust from his paws.
"Old wise mentors are all well and good," Jacob's smirk grew into a smile of pride. "But never underestimate what you can learn from your friends, too. I thank Dallas for teaching me that."
"Ah, Jacob Atherson!" Tipuka remarked aloud, sounding genuinely impressed. "Now I remember; you're Dallas Irontail's friend, aren't you? You were here about three summers ago, helping him work here. My goodness, how much you've grown! I suppose I have you to thank for my missive reaching the Sandeyes, aye?"
"Aye, sir," Jacob shook Tipuka's paw, slipping his sandals back onto his feet. "It's me, Jacob Atherson, the very same creature who helped Dallas fix your front door three summers ago. I guess I've sort of become his apprentice now. Anyway, I came here to fight in your competition, if you'll have me. I have a wrestling background, as you clearly saw. I hope that's a good foundation to build upon."
"Fear not, young Jacob," Tipuka flashed the wolf a reassuring smile. "Wrestling is a more than solid foundation to build upon. A martial art in and of itself. One of the oldest, even. You'll fit in here quite nicely. I look forward to seeing what you can do, Jacob. I hope that what both you and Jared learn and experience here will touch your young lives forever."
"That was Domnal, wasn't it?" Madeline realized, eyes growing wide in admiration for Remy. "The standardized martial arts of the Southwest Lands?"
"Good eyes, Madeline!" Remy laughed, balling his fists and tapping them together. "Aye, the creatures of Southsward are some fierce close combat fighters with that style, lemme tell ya! I can teach you, Maddie, if you're interested! It'd be a good self-defense style for a squirrelmaid such as yourself!"
From within the crowd, a tall, burly, well-built shrew in a form-fitting, longsleeved belted tunic and wicker sandals came sauntering abreast of Tipuka.
"Oh, may I introduce Log-a-Log Tiraqoo of the Guerilla Union of Roving and Fighting Shrews." Tipuka gestured at the other shrew.
Tiraqoo bent his head in a dignified nod, holding out his paw as a gesture of formality. "A great honor to meet you all," he greeted the foursome in a deep and somewhat gravelly voice with a vague hint of a rasp. "I look forward to seeing you in the competition."
Everyone introduced themselves to Tiraqoo in turn. Jared noticed a strange strength in the Guoraf Log-a-Log's pawshake. A firm vice grip, with a slight wavering in his wrist, and a peculiar looseness in his fingers.
"You couldn't have come at a better time, my friends," Tipuka's smile stretched from ear to ear. He hit one fist into his palm, and then the other. "Your timing is surprisingly impeccable." Turning around to the crowd of shrews, he announced at the top of his lungs,
"All right, everyone! Our guests have arrived! Take a break and refresh yourselves! The next round of classes is about to begin!"