| Subject: Story of Samkin: Part 4 |
Author:
Samkin
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Date Posted: 02:53:58 06/29/07 Fri
Samin traveled south along the coast, foraging as he went. The silence was so oppressive he began talking to himself as he wwandered down the peaceful shore. "Mmmm, hmm, nice berries, nice an' tangy, with that li'l bit o' sournesserifindentilletty (Sourness. He's a dibbun, he can make up his own words.), with that deli-licos taste all molded in wun likkle berry."
He did not notice the evil eyes that watched him as he navigated his way down south.
Around midmorn he came across a swamp. He was trekking south, ever south, when the ground became soft and squishy. He tossed a stone a few yards ahead of him, and watched the stone sink. He was about to scamper up into the upper foliage and continue, when a compress of smoking herbs was pressed in his face. He struggled, but to no avail. Samkin watched dark forms rise from the earth just before he blacked out.
When Samkin woke, his head ached terribly, like a thousand drums pounding remorsely inside his brain. Then he took stock of his surroundings in the afternoon light. He was tied to a stake in some sort of clearing, away from the marshy ground, and he was surrounded by rocks. He sensed something was wrong with the rocks being there, but could not figure it out. He saw some vegetation lying at the end of the clearing, then realized that was not vegetatin. The lumps rose, and he heard chanting, dull at first, but it grew persistently louder.
"Weeeee'da Flitchaye, Flitchaye, Flitchaye. Wee'da Flitchaye Flitchaye, Flitchaye. We gorra gorra winna lorra wars!" The chanting stopped abruptly as a drum sounded twice. One of his captors stepped forward, and Samkin could see that they were small weasels covered in vegetation and plant dye, not lumps of loam. The weasel, obviously their leader, spoke. "Squiggle, muchfood goodroast! Growa growa fatty lump, muchfood!" Then two cauldrons were pushed forward by more Flitchaye, and they gestured for him to eat. Samkin decided to eat when they started prodding him with sharpened stakes. The food was tasteless, but Samkin was was hungry. He stopped eating suddenly, his appetite goen, when he realized what was going on. The Flitchaye were fattening him up to eat him! The rocks were the fire pit, they were flesheaters! He resolved that he would die fighting, and began chewing through the ropes. The Flitchaye realized what he was doing just before he finished and several large otters came running, shouting a fiersomely, "Holt Dronnooooooooo!! Come on, scum, play with real warriors, not babby squirrels!" and battering the vermin without surrender. Eventually the vermin fled, and the otters came back, one carrying Samkin, and took him to their holt which was obviously Holt Dronno.
Back at the holt, the otters questioned Samkin abut his life. When he told them all that had happened, they agreed to take him to Salamandastron.
Just before everybeast fell asleep, an otter crept over to Samkin. "I knows yore not from Redwall on plan, but tell me, why're ye travelling to yon fire mountain?"
"Because," Samkin replied, "My father's armor an' sword lie somewhere on that mountain, and I feel as if my father, Drendle, won't rest easy 'til I finds the armor an' sword."
Later the next day, they were met at the gates of Salamandastron by a hare guard. There the otters go back to the holt an Samkin is taken to the Badger Lord. When there, Samkin got straight to the point. "My father came 'ere once, didn't 'e? 'E would've left some sort o' message, wouldn't he?
The Badger Lord, Brondu, replied. "Yes, he did, Samkin. Here's the very parchment. Samkin sat down and began reading.
Two bees, one oh, two els, two tees.
One aitch, one ar, one I, one ae, one ee.
Scrambled together, now solve this please.
The first is in apple, not once, but twice.
The second can be found in both hot and cold.
The third is the same, coming in cocoon thrice.
The last is the first of last.
Find that which turned many a vermin aghast.
Samkin scratched his head as he prepared to solve the riddle.
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