Subject:  Chapters Six through Ten |
Author:
Jessie
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Date Posted: 00:20:28 02/12/03 Wed
In reply to:
Jessie Oakshade, Ex-Fort Storyteller
's message, "If Rose had Lived....re-re-re-re-re-re-re-re-re-vived...." on 00:16:43 02/12/03 Wed
Chapter six: A messenger
Martin was at the breakfast table, picking at the untouched food, thinking about the son he would never have. A daughter! And he couldn’t even teach just how to hold a dirk or bow and arrow. All his dreams of raising a son to be a renowned warrior were dashed, scattered and blown, just dissolved. He did love his daughter, but he would have been happier if it was a son.
Martin was brought back to reality when he heard some commotion outside. He sighed, and decided to see what it was about.
He had expected it to be Rose and Chrysanthemum, but there was a large crowd of the Noonvale residents, all pushing and shoving trying to get a look at something.
Martin gently pushed his way to the front, and he saw a robin, lying on the ground, half-dead, but still alive.
Aryah and other Noonvale healers went to work, reviving the robin, and healing the cuts and bruises on his weather-beaten body.
Aryah mumbled to herself, “Must’ve traveled a long ways, to be scarred and bruised like this. Why would a creature put himself through all this?”
Martin had heard Aryah as he studied the bird. “Whatever is was, it must’ve been really important to him, because the same journey would have killed another creature.”
The robin’s eyes slowly flickered open, and stared at all the creatures around him. “Ahem humph, where am I?”
Martin answered him. “You are in Noonvale, being treated by expert healers. Why did you fly through such dangerous weather to get here?”
One of the healers suddenly pried Chibb’s beak open and forced him to drink something. “Carruph, harr- blech,” Chibb choked, “What is that stuff?”
The healer who poured it down the bird’s throat replied coolly, “You have a stuffed throat. I just cured it using this potion.”
“Er, quite. Thank you.” Chibb was a little unsure now that he couldn’t clear his throat anymore. He turned back to Martin. “Are you a warrior?”
“Um, yes, I am a warrior. Do you need help?”
“Me? No, Mossflower needs help, and badly too.”
Martin glanced towards Rose and Aryah. “Mossflower? Isn’t that in the south?”
Chibb slowly got up, testing his wings. “I’ll say it is. A wildcat, Verdauga Greeneye, no, he’s dead, Tsarmina Greeneye, she has Mossflower under her claw, and the goodbeasts of Mossflower will die out if we don’t retaliate soon!”
“Why don’t you retaliate with the numbers you have now?”
Chibb chortled. “’Twould be foolish, they’ve diminished our numbers considerably, yet their horde grows larger by the day.”
Martin stood decisively. “We’ll go. Come on, warriors, grab your weapons and bring foodpacks, we’re going this very day.” Martin turned to go to the tent to get his sword. Rose stopped him. “Martin, you can’t go. Please stay. Why should you go and leave?”
Martin placed a gentle paw under her chin and lifted her tear-stained face. “Rose, I must help them. If this Tsarmina wins over these creatures, there will be a desolate and evil region south of us, and she will want to conquer the land around Mossflower too. I hope you understand. Take good care of Krissanthamum.” Martin winked at her and strode into the tent.
Rose dried her eyes, and gently picked her daughter up, cradling Chrysanthemum in her arms. “I’m glad you were not older, or Martin would have brought you along too. And I’m glad you’re a maid. I couldn’t imagine a child of mine fighting for their lives, it would be too much. At least a maid couldn’t be a warrior like my Martin.”
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Chapter seven: Martin sets out
Dawn came over Noonvale, and Rose woke up in her tent. Martin wasn’t there, she knew he had gone with the other Noonvale warriors. She walked over to Chrysanthemum’s cradle and sat gazing at her sleeping daughter for a while, thinking about Martin. “I wouldn’t want you to be a warrior, I’ve done it before, and it’s not the life for a Noonvale maid.” Rose said half to herself and half to her daughter. “But you’re the daughter of a famous warrior, so you’re bound to fight sometime. If you ever do, please take care of yourself and those around you, and never do something me and Martin wouldn’t want you to do. Maybe someday you will also be a great warrior, like your father.” A tear fell from Rose’s cheek, and let out a shuddering sob. Then she stood and left the tent.
“Wait up, Martin old chap! A hare has eat t’keep up his energy, doncha know.” A huffing and puffing Ballaw was jogging alongside Martin, who was walking at a steady, but energentic pace. Martin stifled a smile.
“You just had some damson crumble not long ago, Ballaw. If you eat anymore, there won’t be enough for the rest of us. It’s probably a long journey to Mossflower.”
Chibb hopped along beside Martin. “Long, but not quite so long. Depends on what kind of journey you’re used to.”
“The Rosehip Players are used to long journeys, we’ve traveled many a mile.” Rowanoak remarked.
Trefoil was walking next to Rowanoak, a spear over her shoulder. “Aye, so this shouldn’t be a problem. Oi, Chibb, how many vermin do we have the pleasure of meeting?”
“Five hundred, more or less.”
Martin pretended not to be stunned. “That’s quite a lot, more than what that stoat Badrang had. Are they well armed?”
“Oh, yes, and well experienced. Maybe sometimes a bit reluctant to obey orders, but don’t underestimate Kotir’s hordes.”
A young cheeky-looking hedgehog ambled up, grinning. “They should be no problem f’me, birdy. Friltip the Fierce, that’s me!” The hedgehog brandished a small dagger in front of him. Martin plucked it from his paw.
“Now, Friltip, careful where you’re waving that, somebeast could get hurt. And you’re not fighting, you’re staying where you’re supposed to be, with the rest of the Players.”
It looked like Rowanoak was about to pick him up, but then thought better of it. “We let you join the Players because your momma told us to take you, so keep to yourself and stay out of trouble!”
Ballaw muttered under his breath. “Stay out of trouble? Impossible, old gel, a blighter like him is as much trouble as an adder in your paw!”
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Chapter eight: More time passes
Martin and co. had finally arrived at Mossflower, standing right outside Brockhall, meeting place of the Corim. Tired and exhausted, but happy they made it, Martin, with his sword strapped on his back, turned to face his weary friends. He surveyed the large group. No one had been killed or really hurt during the journey, although Ballaw teased a surly weasel and nearly lost the tip of his ear.
Martin stood by the door, unsure of what to do. “Chibb, should I just knock on the door?”
Chibb hopped over next to Martin. “What else would you do in front of a door, Martin, eat it?”
Ballaw scoffed. “Eat a door? That robin chap has a peculiar appetite...”
Rowanoak moved to the front of the crowd like a huge mountain skimming across the ground. “Here Martin, let me knock.” Rowanoak’s paw descended three times upon Brockhall’s door.
THUMP, THUMP, THUMP!
The door swung open and Rowanoak was faced with another female badger. “Who are you, and what do you need of Brockhall?” the badger demanded.
Friltip, the cheeky young hedgehog, looked from Rowanoak to the giant female badger standing in the doorway and said loudly, “There’s two Rowanoaks!”
Kastern, the mousemaid standing next to Friltip, covered his mouth and chided him. “Shush yore mouth, Friltip, this is important!”
Bella,(for it was she) however had heard Friltip and stared at Rowanoak. “Rowanoak?!? Is that you?”
Skipper, Lady Amber, and Abbess Germaine heard the commotion and came to the door. “Bella marm, you know this badger?”
“Of course I know her, Rowanoak, where have you been?”
Rowanoak looked slightly puzzled, because she didn’t recognize Bella, and Martin saw her face. “Let’s talk about this inside, wouldn’t want to be caught out here by vermin from Kotir, would we?”
Bella stopped staring at Rowanoak and looked down at Martin. “Chibb brought you here? You’ve come to help us?”
Chibb flew next to Bella. “Yes, Bella, I’ve brought Mossflower some reinforcements.”
Lady Amber shook her head. “Chibb, where did your cough go? Have you given up candied chesnuts? C’mon you lot, you look hungry and tired, and we’ll talk about everything inside.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter nine: A budding warrior
“C’mon guys, let’s go outside!”
It was a beautiful summer afternoon in Noonvale. An extremely pretty but young mousemaid ran out of a tent. “Hurry up, Jorell, the others are probably waiting for us!”
A younger male mouse ran out of a different tent and gasped for breath as he tried to keep up with the mousemaid. “Wait up, Chrysanthemum, don’t run so fast, gimme a break.”
Chrysanthemum snorted and kept on, though at a slower pace. “What took you so long?”
Jorell walked to match Chrysanthemum’s pace. “My mum Gauchee kept telling me to stay out of trouble. I’m glad that my dad Brome isn’t like that. He just stays in the main part of the Village, cuz he’s a healer.”
Chrysanthemum slowed to a walk. “My mum always tells me to stay out of trouble and to keep my temper. I don’t know what she means by that though. I wish I could remember what my dad was like, from my mom’s description, he sounds like the nicest dad anybeast could ever have.”
Jorell, son of Brome and Gauchee, had his doubts. “A warrior, right? I don’t think I’d want to be a warrior, too much death and depression.”
His cousin was about to argue back when a voice interrupted them. “I’ll say, my father told me about war an’ I don’t think I’d want to be a warrior!”
Chrysanthemum peered behind a tree. “Dallum, is that you?”
“Burr aye, so ‘tis, an’ Bungo be’s ‘ere too!”
Jorell ran to meet them. “Hey there Dallum and Bungo, I was wondering where you’d gotten too, is Dammy and Nytestripe with you?”
Dallum replied, “Nope, haven’t seen them all morning, but I suspect they’re off arguing somewhere. I’m glad I’m not Dammy, Nytestripe may be little like us, but she’s still very strong!”
Chrysanthemum nodded. “Of course she’s strong, she’s a badger, Dallum.” Her sentence was cut off by yelling by the pond in the middle of the vale. “Yowch, stoppit stoppit, you’re pullin’ me blinkin’ ears off, wot!”
Bungo shook his furry black head sadly. “That’ll be Demmee an’ Noitestoipe argooin’, ne’er get ‘long well.”
Chrysanthemum and Jorell crept to the pond to see the fight. A young male hare was practically drowning in the pond, with a small but fierce-looking female badger pulling his ears. “Don’t ever wake me up like that again, or I’ll make you into a pie!”
Jorell stifled a giggle. “That wouldn’t be hard to do, cuz his real name is Damson, but he told us t’call him Dammy instead.”
Dammy spotted Jorell and Chrysanthemum watching from the bush and shouted for help. “I say, get over here an’ help a poor chap, Santhe old gel, this blinkin’ badger has me ears nearly ripped from my jolly ole head!”
Jorell started to walk away. “Oh, stop that you two, you’ll get yourselves in trouble again. You wouldn’t want your mother gettin’ mad at you, Nytestripe.”
“Rowanoak is not my mother! I’ve been in Noonvale all my life, and she just saw me when she came here and wanted to adopt me. I don’t look anything like her anyway. My headstripe is a really dark brown color, and hers is light brown.”
Chrysanthemum interrupted. “C’mon, let’s just find somewhere to play. Find a long stick, everybeast. I want to play ‘Marshank’ again.”
She ignored the audible groans from her friends as she tried to find a suitable stick.
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Chapter ten: Rowanoak’s true past
Martin took in his surroundings. He was in an underground home, home to Bella’s ancestors. Bella kept tight hold of Rowanoak’s paw, who still didn’t seem to know what was going on. Bella had them all sit around the dining table. “Let me tell you what happened, it all happened a long time, and I thought I would never see Rowanoak again.”
“Rowanoak is my younger sister. We lived together here in Brockhall, though I was at least 10 seasons older than she, and she probably wouldn’t remember, because she was just a little babe then. When our father Boar the Fighter was getting ready to journey to Salamandastron, mountain of the fire lizard, a wildcat from the north, by the name of Mortspear, attacked Brockhall in attempt to plunder treasure and take slaves. My father fought gallantly and bravely, but was not quick enough to catch the wildcat, who escaped, taking the babe Rowanoak with him. All these seasons I thought she was either a slave or dead, but she must have escaped.”
Rowanoak sat silently through the story, listening, trying to remember. “I don’t remember Brockhall,” she said slowly, “but I do remember a wildcat, and being a slave. I escaped with the help of a good friend.” Her eyes twinkled in the direction of Ballaw.
Martin could not help but notice a cheeky-looking mouse sitting across from him. Even though Martin hadn’t seen him before, he felt immediate kinship to him. The mouse noticed Martin looking at him, winked, and said, “Hey, there matey! I’m Gonff, Prince of Mousethieves. What do they call you?”
Martin suppressed a chuckle and answered, “Martin the Warrior of Noonvale.”
A pretty Loamhedge mouse sitting next to Gonff remarked, “Noonvale? I’ve heard of that place, the way they describe it, it sounds almost like Loamhedge.”Abbess Germaine was sitting next to Martin across from the mousemaid. “Loamhedge. It was a wonderful Abbey. Maybe we can build a new abbey, Columbine, maybe build it even better than Loamhedge.”
Martin sat still and listened. The word “abbey” jumped out at him, though he wasn’t sure why.
Bella was now ready to hold a council of war. “You, Martin of Noonvale, do you think we can stop the wildcat?”
Martin stood and replied, “I believe we can stop anything with enough spirit and bravery.”
Bella nodded her approval. “Do you have a plan?”
Martin was caught off guard, but recovered. “A plan. Y-yes, I do have a plan, and I’m in the process of shaping it up. For now, we have to wait for the right moment. The horde musn’t know that we’ve come down and almost doubled your numbers. Those vermin will get the surprise of their lives. ”
Nobeast doubted the word of an experienced warrior.
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