Prophecies and Warriors Excerpt (Tammo's Contest II)

[Sebias of Redwall]

ISLAND OF ARMANIA

Waves broke gently on the shores of the great island of Armania. On the west side of this massive lush-green isle was a small village of woodlander mice. Small wooden huts dotted the shore and fishing nets were hung on fences beside docks. When the mice that lived there grew to age, it was expected for them to leave their beloved homeland and find their fortune at sea. However, those that stayed normally took up the practice of fishing in order to put food on the table and to barter goods from passing trader ships.

It was on this silent peaceful night that Ironmace, Chieftain of the fearsome Darkbludd Tribe, decided to go for a raid.

The Darkbludds had been the plague of Armania for as long as anybeast could remember. Most of them were foxes but there was a decent scatter of weasels, stoats, and ferrets among them. (The Darkbludd had never allowed rats of any kind to join them because they had been taught that rodents were far less superior then other, more noble beasts... such as themselves.)

"I wish I could've stayed home," a tall skinny white-furred fox named Dirke grumbled from where he lay hidden underneath a flower bush beside his brother. Dirke was armed with a short thin-bladed sword that he gripped tightly as he nervously looked ahead through the trees just outside the mouse village. "After all," he continued, "it's not like I'll ever be one of you dunderheaded warriors who are always getting into fights anyway."

"Are you calling me a dunderhead, brother?" an amused voice asked from beside Dirke.

The white-furred fox turned to look at his brother and winked. "Well... that depends on how you like to take it, Kirk."

Kirk smiled. Out of the two brothers, he was by far the most warrior-like. His dark black fur blended into the night with ease, he held a small axe in one paw and a broadsword in the other. Maybe Dirke was right. The tall black-furred fox thought, glancing over at his sibling. We probably should have let him stay back in the camp. Aloud, he said, "Well you might be singing a different tune after this battle is over... I might have to save that snow-white tail of yours again."

"Hey! I'm the one who usually has to drag your tail out of trouble. I'm obviously the smarter out of both of us."

Kirk rolled his eyes. "I don't think so, snow-face."

Dirke gave a fanged smile. "Snow-face, eh? Well I guess that makes you a mangy-furred pile of dung."

The black furred fox gasped with mock outrage. "How dare you insinuate that my nobly black fur resembles dung. Why I outa –"

Suddenly, the deep voice of Chief Ironmace snapped from behind their bush. "Would you both keep it down."

The fox chieftain's fur was a bright white, similar to his son Dirke's pelt. However, just one glance at Ironmace's broad shoulders and strong arms showed where Kirk had gotten his build from.

"Do I need to remind you that we are on a raid here?"

Dirke slapped at a bug that had just landed his arm. "Oh you don't have to remind me. We don't have any of these blasted bugs back at camp."

"Aye, an' that's why I had to drag you out here so that you can toughen up a bit."

Dirke folded his paws and rolled his eyes.

It was obvious to Kirk that his twin would rather be lying down on a nice clean cot instead of listening about "how much he needed to toughen up" and "how to become a strong warrior like Kirk and Ironmace." Kirk shrugged to himself. If Dirke wanted to grow up weak and defenseless then that was up to him.

Ironmace continued, "We aren't far from the mice's village so you should both try to keep it down. Are we clear?"

Kirk and Dirke both nodded.

"Good. Then let's move out."

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Ironmace's raiding party of two-score vermin had surrounded the huts where the fisher-mice lived. They gripped blackened weapons as they waited for their chieftain's order.

Kirk felt a rough paw clasp him on the shoulder and he turned to see his father gazing at him with his hard eyes. "Listen," he whispered, nodding his head over at Dirke, who was hiding not far from them, "I want you to take care of your brother. His white fur will make it easier for the enemy to see him, an' I have a raid to lead so I can't be bothered by worrying about him."

"Aye," Kirk grinned, "I'll keep an eye on him. If I didn't, then who else would I beat up on?"

"Ha! A boy after my own heart," Ironmace chuckled. Patting Kirk on the shoulder, the fox chieftain crept forward until he was on the edge of the woodlander village.

Kirk took deep breaths as he readied his small axe and his sword. Even though he was only fifteen seasons old, the black fox was already well known for his skill in battle. Most of it had come naturally, but the rest of it had been beaten into him by many a hard lesson from either the tribe's best trainers or sometimes even his own father. Those were especially painful.

Kirk's eyes darted up with surprise as he suddenly heard his father's fearsome battle cry: "Death to the enemies of the Darkbludd Tribe! Kill! Kill! Kill!"

Darkbludd warriors from all over burst out from their positioned and hurled themselves into the village, repeating their chief's war cry as they thundered forward.

"Kill! Kill! Kill!"

Mice were awoken from their slumber as foxes and other vermin crashed through their doors and ran them through where they lay. No mercy was given. Young or old, male or female, armed or unarmed were all cut down and slain.

Kirk had joined a throng of warriors as they tried to rush the village's main armory. The black fox dodged to the side as a mouse – armed with nothing more than a staff – leapt forward and swung his weapon at him.

Kirk smiled to himself. Ah, an easy one. Leaning back to avoid another blow from the mouse, the young fox threw his small axe into his enemy's face, killing him instantly. Yanking it back out from the corpse, he spun around and used it to block a sword-swing from another mouse that had sneaked up behind him.

"That was my brother!" the mouse spat, his eyes red from rage and grief as he pointed to the old mouse that Kirk had killed. "I'm gonna kill you!!!"

Oh Please! It would take somebeast with far superior skill to so much as scratch me. Blocking his adversary's blows, Kirk continued to make his way slowly backward toward a burning hut.

Once he reached it, the vulpine dropped to his knees and grabbed a pawful of dirt. Jumping up, he threw it into the mouse's eyes.

"Ack!" Rubbing his eyes desperately, the mouse's life was cut short as Kirk leapt up and plunged his sword into the mouse's throat.

Well that felt good. Cracking his knuckles, he looked around for a new enemy.

The raid was going well for the Darkbludds. Even though they had been outnumbered two to one, the vermin had caught the mice unprepared and unarmed. Those that had made it to their weapons were holding out in a large wooden hut in the center of the village, but Kirk doubted they would be able to hold out for long.

Creeping stealthily through the darkness, Kirk walked down an alleyway toward the sounds of weapons clashing and loud screaming.

He was taken by surprise as a female mouse suddenly charged past him, her paws wrapped around a tiny bundle as she ran, looking desperately for a safe place to hide.

She gave a shriek as she saw Kirk. Giving a loud war-cry, the black fox began to chase her, easily eating up the distance with his longer and faster legs.

Once he caught up to her, Kirk swung out a paw and punched her in the side of the face, knocking the female mouse over.

Grinning from ear to ear, the young warrior lifted his sword, preparing to give the villager a swift death. Just as he was about to plunge his sword into the fallen mouse's heart, the female struggled up and thrust the bundle at his footpaws.

"Please!" she pleaded, "You can kill me if you wish, just please, I'm begging you, spare my baby."

Kirk didn't know why but he hesitated as he looked down at his paws, then back toward the crying babe. Well... I guess I could let them go... He thought. Stiffening his shoulders he tried to shrug the doubts aside. No! These woodlanders are inferior to us! It would be merciful of me to end their suffering here and now.

The young warrior didn't even know why he was arguing to himself. After all, wasn't he already one of the most deadly warriors in his tribe? He had killed dozens of woodlanders before, why was this mother and her child any different?

Looking down into her pleading eyes, Kirk felt any and all resistance die away... Even though chances of her or her baby surviving were practically nothing, the mother's face still shone with a brief hope that maybe... just maybe, this vermin would let them go.

Kirk looked up and down the alley. The moon had finally come out from behind the clouds and cast a brief light over his surroundings. Hearing the sounds of his triumphant comrades making their way toward them, Kirk knew he had to decide fast.

Dad is gonna kill me if he finds out. Grabbing the now crying baby, he quickly threw the bundle into the mother's arms and spat gruffly. "Take your baby and run. Run as far as you can, or my tribe will hunt you down and kill you and your child."

Reaching forward, the female mouse grasped his paw and kissed it. "Thank you, kind sir." Then, running like her life depended on it (Because it was) she charged down the alleyway and disappeared into the night.

What have I done? Kirk thought quietly to himself. Shrugging, he picked up his axe and sword and ran off. Maybe if he went back to killing then he'd forget that he had let a brief moment of weakness into his heart.

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Once the fight had started, Dirke had made sure to stick close to as many of the other Darkbludd Tribe warriors that he could. He had been in his fair share of fights before, but those mostly consisted of clubbing an ignorant woodlander when they weren't looking. Now, he was in the middle of a fight for his life.

"Freeeedom!" screeched a tall broad mouse as he swung a heavy spear at Dirke's head. The white-furred young fox ducked down and leapt backward, thrusting out desperately with his sword.

I really, really, REALLY wish that I was back at camp! Dirke regretted coming on the raid with every fiber of his being. It was hard for the young fox to tell friend from foe in the jumble of bodies and the darkness.

The tall mouse was skillfully thrusting and swinging his spear so that Dirke was forced to continue scrambling backward.

The fox was suddenly knocked over by a screaming villager that had been stabbed with a mortal wound, and Dirke fell flat on his back.

Dirke's stomach turned ice cold with fear as he saw the tall mouse preparing to run him through with his spear. The thought of looking for a weapon didn't even register in his brain. All he saw was the spear tip as it hovered over him.

Just as he was about to thrust his spear into Dirke, the mouse yelped with surprise and Dirke just managed to roll out of the way as the villager was pushed forward from behind. Landing with his paw on a dagger's handle, Dirke wiggled onto his side and plunged it into the tall mouse's neck before he could recover.

"Good job, brother."

Dirke didn't even need to peer into the darkness to recognize the silhouette of his twin. Glancing around, Dirke could see that most of the fighting around them had died down somewhat.

"And where were you all this time?" he asked, accepting Kirk's helping paw as he jumped back onto his footpaws.

Dirke's eyes narrowed curiously as he saw Kirk's frozen expression. What's wrong with you? He thought, suspicious.

Kirk's face suddenly went back to normal and the black furred vulpine shrugged at his brother's question. "I was just killing some more of those pathetic mice over by those huts."

Dirke scratched his chin. Okay, he thought, I can definitely tell there was something bothering you a second ago... What are you hiding?

Both of the fox twins had been close since birth. And even though they fought and stole from each other as much as they wanted, it was bad luck on the beast that got on the wrong side of either of them, because if you messed with one, you got the other as well. The only beast that Dirke could ever fully trust was his brother... so why was Kirk hiding something from him.

Eh, it probably wasn't a big deal anyway. The fox huffed to himself as he tried to dust off the blood and dirt off his white fur. I'm sure Kirk would tell me if it was anything important. I mean, we're twins after all. We're allowed to lie to everybeast but each other.

"How was your first village raid?" Kirk asked as he smiled. Wiping his sword clean, he slid it back into its sheath. The small axe though, he kept in his paw just in case they ran into a nasty surprise.

"Oh, it was... interesting." Dirke replied, picking up his light sword from where it had fallen on the ground. "I think if our dear father had used his brains instead of brawn a little more, this attack would've gone better, with less bloodshed on our side."

Kirk shrugged, glancing down at the dead bodies beside them. "Eh, the simple plan is always the best plan. Though you could try telling father that his strategy was wrong..."

"Now who said anything about that?" the smaller fox butted in quickly, "I was just suggesting–" He broke off as he saw the shape of Chief Ironmace and a group of warriors drawing closer as they howled victoriously up to the night sky.

"Um... Father would probably want to know where we are..." Dirke said.

The older twin merely folded his arms. "Hmmp, I doubt it, but I guess we could regroup anyway."

The two brothers walked across the bloody ground toward the sounds of their tribe's victorious shouts.

Kirk watched his brother out of the corner of his eye. Maybe he should've told him about the two mice that he hadn't killed... The young warrior decided to not worry about it. After all, it wasn't like anything bad could come from his actions... Could they?

[The Grey Coincidence]

Nice one Seb I was a bit confused as to how the village slaughter fit the 'secrets' theme until... *drumroll* that bit at the end...
As usual very descriptive and well written. You are a talented writer.
And as usual that's all I'll say on the matter as I move onto the far more interesting topic at paw... theorising!
So Kirk had a brother named Dirke, his father is Ironmace of the Darkbludds and despite his 'these vermin give us a bad rep' line (in regards to the ferrets he murdered in the main fic) he is shown here killing mice. Lovely to see he's a *biiiiiit* of a hypocrite XD Still love him though.
It's funny that the Darkbludds do not allow rats into their horde but Kirk in TGW is running around with Bergen... a rejection of his father's philosophies? Equally interesting is that his brother *isn't* with him. I also don't think he's the Taggerung- somebeast would have found out by now and the Darkbludd's seem like the type to... you know... have seers? So I think it's the otter of ther trio- Tharko was it?
So... two ideas and maybe it's a mix of two, but what may have happened was Kirk's father finds out about this secret, which sours his relationship with his son- this is when Kirk starts becoming the 'doesn't kill woodlanders on sight and isn't ratist' fox we know and love', he may have run away from home but I don't think his father would've killed him over something so petty- especially when he's instructing Kirk to look after his brother- so what I think happened is he and his father quarreled and another ambitious vermin, sensing that his chieftain was distracted by the family drama, struck. Probably killed Dirk and Ironmace and set Kirk fleeing across the countryside. That's just a theory for now of course, heheheehe.
A nice side story (you gonna publish it on FFN as well?)
Update soon