The Outcast of Redwall

5?

Dawn arrived wreathed in soft white mist, promising a mild sunny day. The drums beat out again over the scrub-scarred highlands, but this time the rat runners did not raise the alarm, for only one creature approached the camp. It was the vixen Nightshade, whom Swartt had purposefully instructed to follow him, leaving one days gap between their arrivals.

The rat runners kept their distance from the fox, considering her some kind of wild mystic. Nightshade did nothing to disabuse them of the idea, indeed, she had dressed to look the part. A tatty feather-trimmed cloak swirled about her painted and mud-daubed body, and she carried a long staff decorated with bones, hanks of hair and shells. It clanked and clattered as she shook it at the runners, chanting in a reedy quaver:

“Gurgling, rattling, final breath,

Brings me from Dark Forest gate,

I, the messenger of death.

King of Darkness, Lord of Fate!

Fires from the previous nights embers were being blown into life by a few early risers as the runners escorted the vixen into Lord Bowflegs hordecamp. Spying the main tent with its prominent pavilion, she made her way straight to it. Two stoat sentries guarding the closed tent flap moved nervously aside as the odd-looking fox grimaced and shook her staff at them. Nightshade stood in front of the entrance and howled a long eerie call.

“Hawoooooooo! I am the Seer! Ayaaaaaaaaai! Death has been here!

The runners and sentries were obviously frightened of the ragged vixen, who was now performing a crazy shuffling dance in front of the main tent. They huddled together, muttering.

“I wonder why Lord Bowfleg hasnt heard her?

“Aye, its strange that he hasnt sent Wurgg out to snap er scrawny neck an stop er caterwaulin like that.

“Well, Im not goin to try an move er!

“But we cant just stand ere, whats tbe done?

“I say we go an rouse the Captains, let them sort it out.

“Aye, good idea, mate, come on!

As word of the vixens arrival swept through the camp, the hordebeasts deserted tents and cooking fires en masse to follow the group of officers heading to the main tent. Two stoat Captains, Greenclaw and Aggal, together with a rat named Scraw, who was a senior Counselor, heard all the sentries and nmners had to say. They watched the vixen dancing and chanting in front of the closed pavilion entrance.

“Mightier than the Warlord, Who must come to his call,

I am but a messenger, Death rules over all!

Greenclaw was made of stern stuff. He drew his sword and, rapping out orders, pushed the vixen to one side. “Seize this one and hold er; Ill get tthe bottom o this! Greenclaw ripped the flaps aside and strode boldly into the tent. The other officers followed him in a bunch.

Lord Bowfleg sat slumped in his chair; the giant Wurgg was seated on the top dais step, his back against the throne legs. Both creatures looked as if they were merely sleeping, but the rat Scraw could see differently. He put his face close to Bowflegs, at the same time touching his footpaw to Wurggs limp form.

A short inspection was sufficient for Scraw. He turned to the assembly, shaking his head. “Dead, both dead! Not a mark on either of em. Who could have done this?

Greenclaw voiced his opinions so that all could hear. “I left Lord Bowfleg and Wurgg alive and well with Swartt yesterdaylets ask him!

The six-clawed ferret was dragged into the tent by four armed guards. He struggled free, shouting, “Getcher claws off me or Ill flay yeh alive!

Greenclaw had appointed himself official interrogator. “Answer me, Swartt. What took place here yesterday when you were alone with Lord Bowfleg and Wurgg?

“I gave Lord Bowfleg gifts, Swartt sneered at the officious Captain, “and he said hed accept me into his ranks as a Captain, nothing else.

Scraw picked up the gifts of spear, belts, and wine. He shook the flagon; wine swished inside. “Was this wine one of the gifts you brought? Did the Lord drink any?

Swartt chuckled knowingly. “He certainly did!

“Did you drink the wine also?

“No, itd be churlish tbring wine as a gift and then drink it.

“Did Wurgg?

“No, Lord Bowfleg said that the wine was too good for a clod like him; only Bowfleg drank that wine, Swartt lied.

Scraw was nodding and smiling grimly as he thrust the flagon toward the ferret. “I think this wine is poisoned. Prove that its nottake a sip.

Swartt grabbed the flagon and drank it empty. “Anything else ywant me tdo, rat? he sneered.

Anger was rising in Greenclaw. He snatched the flagon from Swartt and hurled it away, growling, “Youre too smart for your own good, ferret. Why did you come here in the first place, tell me?

Swartt spoke loud, so that the hordebeasts crowded outside the tent could hear him. “I had no need to come here, I was doing well with my own band. Then one night I had a dream. Lord Bowfleg appeared to me and implored me to come to his side with all speedhe said that he needed my help.

Greenclaw curled his lip derisively. “A likely story. Bring in the fox!

Nightshade was prodded in at spearpoint by several soldiers, who did not want to get too close to her. Greenclaw asked Swartt, “Have you ever met this vixen before?

“Never in the light o day, though I often see her in dreams.

“This is all nonsense! snapped Greenclaw as he paced the dais steps angrily.

The vixen shook her staff warningly at him. “Do not mock what you cannot understand. None has seen me in this camp before, yet I knew of Lord Bowflegs death long before I came here. I am the messenger of Death and Fate. I see visions in the stars, the wind, and the eyes of many!

Greenclaw had heard enough. Drawing his sword, he came at the vixen. “Did your visions tell that youd end up dead today?

Scraw stepped in the way, knocking the sword aside. “Put up your weapon, stoat. The fox is a seer. It is bad luck to slay one with gifts like hers.

“A seer, huh! sneered Greenclaw as he sheathed his sword with bad grace. “Well, tell us what you see, vixen!

Nightshade shook her staff until the shells and bones attached to it clattered ominously. She shut her eyes and wailed:

“Seasons of glory will come to the horde, Nobeast will lack plunder while Sixclaw is Lord!

Greenclaw was furious. He turned on Swartt, but the ferret was ready, and before the stoat Captain could unsheathe his sword, Swartt grabbed the carved spear from Aggal and slew Greenclaw.

Nightshade was still chanting and wailing:

“Allbeasts who challenge the Sixclaw will die, Dark Forest gates will reflect in their eye!

Swiftly she moved among the Captains, staring wildly into their eyes. To a beast they believed the seers words, and all looked the other way, avoiding Nightshades mad stare.

Then Swartt Sixclaw strode dramatically forward and, holding the vixens face between both paws, he stared steadily into her eyes, saying, “You shall be my eyes and see all for me; nobeast will be able to hide secret thoughts against me!

Thus it was that the ferret Swartt Sixclaw became Warlord of the great horde, with only a few gifts: two belts, a spear, a good flagon of wine, and one other thinga silver drinking cup whose rim and inside had been smeared with deadly poison!

With that and a clever vixen he had won the day.

The entire horde gathered around a small hillock to hear their new Warlord announce his plans. Swartt had repainted the green and purple stripes upon his face and coated his fangs with fresh red dye. Drawing his curved sword from the wide snakeskin belt, he whirled in a circle, and a magnificent bright blue velvet cloak, which he had plundered from Bowflegs belongings, swirled around his muscular body. He pointed the sword at the main tent, which still contained the bodies of Bowfleg and Wurgg, and cried aloud, “Burn!

From high on the cliffs a score of weasel archers fired flaming arrows down into the brushwood-laden tent. In moments the whole thing was ablaze. The firelight danced in Swartts eyes as he held up his six-clawed paw for all to see.

“This is what you follow from now on: sixclaw! No more lying about in these hills and scrublands, no more idling under a fatbeast who was too lazy to move! Take down your tents and pack them for travel: today we move west and south to the lands of plenty. Food, plunder, captives! All of these you will have if you follow me into the sunwarmed lands. Aye, me, Swartt Sixclaw the Warlord!

The earth trembled as the massive horde stamped their foot-paws and hammered down their spearbutts. A mighty roar rose up like thunder as it echoed from the cliffs.

“Sixclaaaaaaaw!

Tents were flattened and rolled, drums beat ominously, and banners with the new Sixclaw symbol unfurled on the autumn breeze.

The ferret bared his reddened teeth at the vixen by his side. “Now lets see if Sunflash the Mace can pick this lot off one by one. Hahahahahaaaaa!