User blog:ScottyBlue/Gingiverian: Chapter 21

Brother Willow had fallen prey to a consuming restlessness, and could not stay asleep; after about three hours of tossing, turning, and fitful dozing, he gave up the attempt and climbed out of bed to pore over ancient tomes and scrolls in attempt to calm his nerves. Normally a matter-of-fact, incurious beast, the elderly shrew could not explain why certain words of the rhyme entrusted to the young hare Shermy had refused to leave his mind and had robbed him of his slumber. The first and formost was the ominous warning; "Tragedy will strike this Abbey!" Though Willow had made many gloomy predictions of the three wildcats bringing trouble, he by no means wished to actually see any harm befall his beloved home, or his fellow creatures. It was a sensation hitherto unknown to the shrew, that of NOT wanting to be right; the conflicting emotions were enough to reduce even the most hardened know-it-all to a state of nervous tension.

To keep his mind from dwelling upon the first problem, Willow focused on the second, which involved the two proper names mentioned; Ublaz Mad Eyes and Daskar's Glory. The scholar had known the first name as that of a pine marten emperor of corsairs, who had a poisonous water serpent as a pet; he had held a Redwall Abbot hostage hundreds of seasons past, but had been slain by his own serpent when he trodden upon it whilst fighting the warrior who had come to free the Abbot. The second name, Daskar's Glory, was also familiar to the Librarian; however, though it pained the old shrew to admit it, he could not recall specifically where he had seen it before. A fine thing, this; a Redwall Scholar forgetting his lessons! Consoling himself with the thought that the lack of sleep was probably the reason for his memory loss, Willow continued to look through his volumes, becoming more and more worried and upset with himself as the night wore on into the wee hours of the morning.

There was a muffled thud from the direction of the Dibbun's dormitory; Willow waved it aside, concluding one of the Abbeybabes must have fallen out of bed. Suddenly, he saw it, the word Daskar! It was in the table of contents of a tome so ancient it was falling to pieces; carefully, Willow turned to the chapter indicated and began a frantic search through it for what a "Daskar's Glory" could possibly be. So aborbed was he in what he was reading that he completely failed to notice when the Library door swung quietly open and Sy Stoneclaw came in; when she padded up and tapped him on the shoulder, he gave a shriek most unbecoming a shrew of his age, flinging a sheaf of loose pages into the air to flutter like streamers to the floor all around. He held a paw to his heart, glaring venemously at the intruder. "What is the meaning of this? Don't you cats know better than to frighten an oldbeast to death?"

Sy held a paw to her lips. "Shhhhh, brother, don't wake the Dibbuns. The Abbess sent me to come get you, and tell you to meet us in the Great Hall to continue our council of war. She also said to bring any books or scrolls you thought useful."

Angrily, Willow stooped to gather his papers; still limping slightly, Sy did the same. The shrew was too worn out to try to drive the wildcat from his sanctuary; he shook a page under her nose, murmurming. "Don't you dare touch those, you might get them all out of order. If you want to make yourself useful, carry that tome I was reading downstairs. Be careful with it, half the pages are loose."

The wildcat took one look at the book and decided that to carry it down the stairs without it completely falling apart would be impossible; pulling a blanket from Willow's little bed in the far corner of the room, she wrapped the precious volume in it to ensure she would not lose anything. Willow hastily organized his stack of pages, and made for the door, with Sy following behind. For about thirty paces, they proceeded in absolute silence, both occupied by their own thoughts. Then, Willow was startled again as the Wilcat addressed him, her voice abnormally devoid of cheerfulness. "Just so you know, I have no more desire to see tragedy befall this place than you do, Brother. In fact, I offered to leave and draw the enemy away, but your Abbess refused to let me do so."

Willow had fumbled two or three of his pages; he bent to retrieve them, still in stoic silence. Sy continued. "I won't be here to offend you too much longer, though; it's rather obvious that 'One-eye' in Shermy's rhyme last night meant me, so I'll be leaving to free my kin from the Ranks of the Shadow as soon as this business with Dankfur is over. Would it be too much to ask that we be friends for that short time, or would you prefer I avoid contact with you? I won't be offended, just let me know whichever you prefer."

Willow was completely bewildered; this was the first time anybeast had carried the war against his snobbery and prejudices into his own camp like this. To be 'friends' with a vermin went against every grain in the old shrew's body; to say outright, "No, I don't ever want to see, speak, or deal with you again, and the sooner you leave the better" would be....would be...well, Willow wasn't sure what the problem was there. It was the truth, he supposed; since she had arrived, he had been as hostile as he could be to her, hoping to put her in her place. But, now that it came down to it, something was holding him back from letting his feelings rip, and getting rid of the problem once as for all.

It came as a shock for the old shrew to suddenly realize that the problem was, he wasn't as sure of his own emotions as he thought he had been. The objections otherbeasts had made to his theories of Sy being a villian came back; he tried to argue against them, as he had always done. After all, Wildcats were vermin, weren't they? And had he not a right to hate this one, after she had dared to invade his library, make him look a fool in front of his students, disrupt the order of everyday Abbey life? Yet, she had been an imperturbably gentle and friendly beast, and risked her life to save a mousemaid and bring her two little cousins to the Abbey; that was indisputable. On and on through the old shrews mind, the battle raged; between his own pride, arrogance, hatred, and the true facts that he as a scholar so dearly loved.

Sy noticed by Willow's expression, which betrayed the extreme mental tension he was going through, that he was not going to respond to her question any time soon. She sighed. "You don't have to answer right away; until you do, I'll stay out of your way as much as is possible. Deal?"

Automatically, Willow took her outstretched paw and shook it. They continued the rest of the way to the Great Hall in silence, the wildcat with her own saddened thoughts, and the shrew with his maddeningly conflicting ones.

The Great Hall was lit by torches, lighting up the skillfully done tapestry of Martin the Warrior; there, however, all semblance of beauty ended. Due to the possiblility of late night summer drizzles rusting the tools, Skipper and Formole had told their crews to move them, and all the gathered wood, into the Great Hall, where the new gate would be contructed. Into this wreckage, Friar Dimp had ventured, rather gingerly, to bring an early breakfast to the very early risers gathered there; a large cauldron of honeyed oatmeal on a trestle sent thick wafts of steam about the room, further adding to the impression of destruction and mess.

Seated upon a segment of tree trunk in the center of the room, Shermy greeted the newcomers with a cheery grin. "What ho, chaps! Got anything useful from the jolly old book mausoleum?"

Pushing blueprints, wood shavings, and other scraps of carpentry work aside, Sy and Willow laid the pieces of the tattered volume to the floor. Willow, temporarily restored to his normal self, shot a glare at the young hare. "As a matter of fact, we have; in fact, I believe I have solved two of the mysteries of the rhyme, regarding the proper names mentioned. The first, as all scholars should know..."

The group assembled consisted of everybeast who had been present the night before, with the exception of Skipper and Dippertail, who were on wall duty. Walloh Branchbounder smiled affably at the old shrew, interrupting him. "Sure, an' if ye mean ould Ublaz Mad Eyes, we've talked o'er that already. 'Tis a fact young Tings has a goodly ould head on 'her pretty young shoulders, so she does; remembers her schoolin' quite well. But that's neither here nor there with our quest, so it seems."

Robbed of his moment, the much-stressed Willow was about to say something rather nasty; however, one glance at the steely glint in the powerful golden-furred dormouse's eyes caused him to think better of it. Satisfying himself with a snort, the shrew opened his mouth to continue; this time, it was Abbess Saffron who interrupted. "Please make it short and simple brother. If there is to be a battle soon, we won't have much time to discuss these things."

Sulkily, Willow agreed. "Very well. Daskar's Glory refers, as far as I can deduce, to what was once the largest ship to sail the seas, the Gorleech. Its captain was one Vilu Daskar, a slave master who was immensely proud of his vessel; hence, Daskar's Glory. The ship was wrecked, however, in the midst of some tall islands far to the north. I think it safe to assume that the wreckage is being used as the vermin's new lair. There are no directions to it here save that it is somewhere to the far northwest, so finding it will be no easy matter."

Saffron nodded. "Thank you, Brother Willow. Now, for the rest of the rhyme. Read the last half again for us, Sister Flim."

The recorder obliged, pulling out the parchment from her ever-present satchel of writing goods and declaiming aloud,

"''Remember also, those in terror,

''Chained away in Vilu Daskar|Daskar's Glory,

''Those I name must free these poor ones;

''He who tells a wand'ring story,

''Oldest daughter of the Guards,

''One-Eye, Two Eyes faking One,

''Mouse who should not be alive,

''And Son of the Mad Boxer's son.

''Finally, the one who slays

''A threat'ning horror with my blade

''Must bring it with him when he goes

''On this quest which must be made.

''Nothing can be done tonight;

''Rest your eyes, my Abbey friends.

''But be alert at dawn tomorrow,

That is when the fight begins!

Formole Aggit tapped a digging claw on the dining table. "Burr, Oi appose we'm knows who wun-oi bees, an' Mouseymaiden who shuddent bee aloive."

Tings nodded. "That's Sy and me for sure, though I've never done much long-distance traveling or fighting so I don't know why Martin picked me."

Shermy descended from the log and clapped a paw about her shoulder. "Well, I'm certainly going along, that's plain, wot! Don't you worry, Tings me gel, we two inexperieced ones will look after one another, doncha know."

Sy glanced at the rhyme parchment. "I don't see where it says you must go, friend."

Shermy smiled. "Son of the Mad Boxer's son, old thing, that says Yours Truly all blinkin' over it. My grandmother was Mad Maudie Mugsbury Thropple known for knockin' a serpent out in one punch, and defeating scads of enemies single-pawed. So, there you have it; Shermwood Whippabonce Thropple-Ffoliot the Second is goin' on this quest, wot!"

Ayeriss Pinspikes, called to attend due to her encounter with the giant serpents before, pointed at another row. "Aye, an' yeh ain't leavin' me behind. Looky here, 'Older dotter of t'guards'."