This is a note to my readers: The first part is taking place on a vermin castle. the second part is taking place in the peaceful Redwall Abbey. When the word Dibbun comes up, it is referring to all the toddlers and babes of the Abbey. And when a mole speaks, I will write it’s dialog, but put what it’s really saying in parentheses. Enjoy!
“WHAT?!” Queen Valesque screeched, “You mean to tell the Stiletto Queen, Ruler and blade thrower that her Army of Rampagers is Destroyed?!”
Jikkil moaned as his queen’s claws sunk deep into the flesh of his shoulder. “My queen,” he croaked, “I can explain. The holt of the otters of Lutra were fierce, but we had stolen the granddaughter of Grath Long-“ His report was cut short as Valesque immediately sheathed her claws. The sleek weasel shrank into her throne. Jikkil sighed a breath of relief, she looked calm again.
“Show me the baby. I want this Taggerung to grow strong.” as she spoke, Jikkil tried to motion with his paw. But being the fat and wounded ermine that he was, he only lay flat down, and his eyelids drooped, and his red eyes clouded over.
“Pity,” the Bladethrower smirked, “He died.” Then she called out louder, “Bring me the new Taggerung,” and she added, “Feed Jikkil to my lovely Ripper. My Rippy should have a juicy treat for once.”
Her closest guards stood in shock at their leader’s cruelty.
“Well, what are you waiting for? Do you just want to have the entire Holt of Lutra come and kill me?”
Melgrak echoed her leader, “Yes, what are you waiting for? Thy queen has being waiting to hear my omens on the Taggerung,” the vixen said in a harsh voice.
“Come my seer. Prepare your omens. I want this Taggerung to be the one-beast army that rules the century.” She Pointed a poisoned purple-plated throwing stiletto at the guards. “Get rid of Jikkil. bring me a meal for me and my Seer. And don’t forget to bring in the Taggerung baby. Or else.” The nearest 6 guards saluted and gulped audibly as the stiletto shone threateningly.
“Thou art prepared for the omens, my Lady?”
The Queen was gripping a satin pillow to her chest, because the last time she disobeyed to omens, she lost her famous fluffy tail. “Yes,” her voice quavered.
The vixen cast out a black stone, smaller pebbles, and a brown shell and a peculiar white shell spotted with black.
“Well?” Valesque squished around some blackberry wine in a goblet.
The Seer hesitated. “The omens have spoken. The Taggerung will grow up to be a strongbeast, vermin, or no. Thou shall be separated on the 17th season anniversary of her birth,” Melgrak indicated to the 17 black spots on the white shell. “The Taggerung should escape, leave you not in in Hellgates, but merely chipped,” she said, lifting the brown shell up so that Valesque could she the chip, “You will find her with a black creature, and with an army of Rampagers shall do battle with the holt of Lutra as well as the Taggerung, next to a river.” Sure enough, there was a drop of water that slowly dribbled toward the the foot of Valesque’s throne.
Valesque quivered with rage. “I Shall not fail!” She emphasized the word, ‘fail’, with a pound of her fist, and a splash from the red wine joined the little stretch of water. “but look, my Queen,” The Seer was nearly hopping with excitement, “You will make the rivers run red with blood!”
“Oh, Roasted pigeon! Bring the meal in, guards.”
the blade thrower did not heed to the Seer though, and the seer added to herself, “But whose blood, the vermin or the holt, i cannot tell.”
“Hello Abbess Perrit. Surely you remember me?” a Ginger wildcat sat on the end of a great Hall table.
“Of course, Calmiere, you and your mother, Calayo, defended us from Ventessi the bad!” The old squirrel spoke with such grace.
“Menscessi? I gonna show’m how’s dun. I gonna punsh ‘im smack in de face like dis! Pow!” a naughty mousebabe, Irglo demolished a strawberry cream tart with honey cream in a single fist. And to avoid any punishment, he dived into a maple and mint trifle, twice his size.
“Ventessi the Bad? Oh woe, shall the nights go dark, as his evil shadows dance the moon through? Thou art to die than to suffer the wrath of Ventessi!” it was Tripali, the poetic vole maid who had spoken. Irglo ate himself out of the sticky mint trifle to pop his head out and see the reactions.
A hefty shrewmaid picked up a sturdy bronze pan and said gruffly, “Hmm. If he does come back, I’ll make sure he doesn’t set one paw onto these sandstones.”
Friar Whartle snatched the pan from her grip. “Now what were you thinking, if that pan gets beat up, then you’ll never have vegetable pasties with gravy again!”
15 seasons later.
“HEE HEE HA HA WAH HA HA HA!” Valesque cackled infront of her woodlander slaves. She was turning into a madbeast, afraid of trees, only eating fish. The Taggerung stood by her side, a pang of sympathy glowed in her gentle face. But she daren’t tell her master how dearly she wish to leave the castle.
“Maister,” she said, she had a slight North Highland accent, “Shall I take thy woodlanders to their cell?”
“Dooo…. as youuuuu pleeease. AHH!!!!! Guards! The Castle has flooded! Ahhhhhhh!!” Valesque jumped on top of her throne wildly.
“Come friends, I mean you no harm,” the Taggerung whispered. “Please,” she said after she took them down to her quarters, ” What are your names?”
“My name is Ebony. This is Bibba and Junty.” A wiry black squirrelwearing a dark purple cloak with a silverstripe down her head spoke. She indicated to a bold mousemaid, and a quiet otter babe. “Perhaps we shall know your name too, eh?”
Perhaps you need to know the Taggerung as well. She was a white otter with a black stripe that started from her nose and ran down her back to the tip of her rudder. She was muscular, and not a smidgeon of flesh was spared on her frome. Though a Holt otter at heart, she was vermin-tatooed with sea green dots under her eyes, and a lightening bolt on her left arm. “I am the taggerung, but I am not vermin. I have a great desire to leave and find my real home. You are hungry. I will get food.” She scribbled something on a scrap of parchment, wrapped in to a blue-feathered arrow, strung her bow, then shot it at a curtain outside her window.
“Hmph. Why don’t you just say, ‘Guards!’ like that mad queen of yours?” Bibba grumbled under her breath. the Taggerung chuckled. “They do not wish to speak to me. They put the meal under that gap into the door. Like………. so.” Just as she said, a large meal of steamed sea potatoes and seaweed sat beside some scallops on a plate. Taggerung pushed the food towards the three woodlanders. Ebony said grace before thanking her and eating her shared of the potatoes. “Thank you. But woodlanders like us do not eat…. fish. I can trust you because I know you are an otter of the Holt of Lutra.”
“Thank you as well. I needed to know my roots. Alright, but all of you need your energy if we are to escape.”
“Nooga hooga!” Junty was playing with the shell of a scallop. “Shh….,” ebony soothed, “We don’t want the vermin finding us now.”
“Taggerung, the Queen wishes to see you.” A weasel guard bowed down infront of her room, even when the door was closed. “Tell thy Royalness that I shall be ready in a moment. Leave.” but the the armored footpaws of the weasel stood planted infront of her door, as seen through the food gap. This time the Taggerung strung a gray flighted arrow to her beaded bow. That was a warning arrow, which had a dull arrowhead. She shot it under the door to emphasize her point. “LEAVE!” Al her response was was a yowl of pain.
“Friends, I have a secret attic. It is where I sleep. You may dwell there for the time being that you are here. I shall sleep here tonight. it is here.” she lifted a tapestry of the bladethrowing queen and revealed a rollable stone. She also handed them a lit torch. “hurry.”
The taggerung prepared herself. She brightened her vermin tatooes, to show no attempt in removing them, with washable pigments, wore her favorite piece of armour with a sea green cloak that covered her shoulders. She almost looked like TiriaWildlough. Click the link for her picture. http://www.google.com/imgres?num=10&hl=en&biw=1366&bih=673&tbm=isch&tbnid=-7_KzD8Ug1KMNM:&imgrefurl=http://redwalljsdanios.blogspot.com/&docid=XZbKP8Ha1CaDVM&imgurl=http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/51z%252BgOlNdsL._BO2,204,203,200_PIsitb-sticker-arrow-clck,TopRight,35,-76_AA300_SH20_OU01_.jpg&w=300&h=300&ei=-ur4T-bbKKWn6wGn0LngBg&zoom=1&iact=hc&vpx=748&vpy=291&dur=1472&hovh=225&hovw=225&tx=111&ty=167&sig=117994230713702458732&page=1&tbnh=151&tbnw=151&start=0&ndsp=22&ved=1t:429,r:10,s:0,i:107=167&sig=117994230713702458732&page=1&tbnh=151&tbnw=151&start=0&ndsp=22&ved=1t:429,r:10,s:0,i:107
She strided down to the most elaborate door in the castle and had the guards open the door for her. She knenlt down on the carpet waiting for the queen to speak. Finally the door that led to her bedroom opened, and a quean and the Stiletto quean appeared. Not daring to look up, the Taggerung sniffed around. She smelled rose perfume. She cast out her senses, and heard an approaching vermin queen with the Bladethrower. Valesque seemed out of her crazy state, and talking about vanquishing the Holt of Lutra. my family! I cannot let my past blow away without knowing about them first!
“Ah, here she is Lady Tamit. the Taggerung. You may stand now.” The black wildcat examined the brawn otter as she questioned her. “Do you….. enjoy the sight of blood? Your foebeasts’ bones scattered?”
the Taggerung gulped. “I………I fight for my master. I do not fight for blood or bones. I fight to conquer what my master wishes for, and I fight to protect my master.”
“I will take her. I wish her sense of loyalty to her ‘master’ will be useful to me,” Lady Tamit Deathclaw said at last. The Taggerung was shocked. “ I will trade her for a score of weasels, a score of ferrets, and a dozen fine ermine guards.”