Saga of the Warriormaid: Part 1: Chapter 1 & 2
~Written by Springrose~

The young mousemaid released the piece of drift wood and swam to shore, her sand coloured habbit dragging her down. Rose gave a feeble cough as she pulled herself from the waters onto the warm sands. Ghasping for breath, she loosened the knotted length of rope tied at her waist, black fur quickly drying in the hot sun.

Looking in her habbit's pocket, she pulled out a metal bird on a string. The bird swung around in a circle, stoping, she knew, when the beak pointed north. Nodding to herself, she quickly put the bird away and began walking in the opposite direction, to the south, to Salamandastron.

Springrose licked her dry lips, looking out to sea. She had heard the story of Mariel many times. All the adventures that had happened here, on the mainland. Gritting her teeth and fighting back tears that threated to overflow; she continued dodgedly on, walking ever towards Salamandastron. Tripping on a rock, she fell into the sand.

"Got to warn them, can't let them down," she rasped, speaking to herself. Heaving herself upwards, she continued to climb up the sand dune. Reaching the top, Rose tripped again, rolling down to the foot of the dune, a sandy heap.

"Food water and rest, thats all I need," she mumbled, "I'll rest here, in the shade, and continue tonight." With that the stange mousemaid fell into a troubled sleep.

Chapter 2

"Do you see land yet rose?" River, her mother called.

"Yes, due east, we're heading straight for it," Springrose shouted back. "Wait a minute," she said squinting towards the north, "There's another ship out here. Looks like she has a course to intercept us." Rose climbed down from the lookout. "She's gaining fast to."

Capitain Shiel appeared behind them. He was a sea otter, strongly built, as was his ship, the Falcon. "What colour be her sails, messmate?"

"A darkish gray-green, like the sea on a stormy day."

Fink sighed, "Aye, that be trouble, little 'un." He pointed to the ship now visible from the deck, "That be the Dargon's Fire, Dargon the Wolf's ship."

"Dargon the Wolf? I thought he was a myth, meant to scare naughty dibbuns," River said to Shiel with a wink in Rose's direction.

"He's no myth, mark my words. Ye better be gettin' below decks." he said calmly hearding them both towards the stairs. "Keep yourselves outta sight."

"But," Rose protested, taking her Gullwhacker from her waist, "I want to help too."

Captain Shiel looked down at Rose, she was barely three seasons old. He crouched down whispering, "No, Rose. You must take care of your mother; think of her down there all alone." Sheil took out a bird made of metal and pressed it into her paws. "That'll show your heart the way, little warrior. It's beak points ever north. T'was given to me by your grandmother. Keep it safe."

The mousemaid nodded sollemly, "Yes, sir," she looked at him with eyes with eyes much older that her years. "May you wim the battle and end this war he has begun, for if you don't I promise I will."

Sheil watched Springrose go down the steps into the hold. Shaking his head he wondered if he really had heard those words from one so young.

"Strange words to say cap'n." Brushtail, the steerssquirel said quietly. Pointing towards the looming ship, "We don't stand a chance trying to outrun them do we?"

Sheil shook his head, "The Falcon's a fast ship, kid, but there's not a ship that sails these seas faster than the Fire. We may not survive, but I intend to take some o' them wi' me."

"Aye, cap'n. I take it thats an order," Brushtail began to turn away, but Shiel stopped him.

"Then join Rose and River below decks. Watch them, keep them safe."

The squirel looked up and nodded. "I'll do my best sir."

"That's all that I ask, all anyone can ask."

Rose and River hid in the corner farthest from the door behind some crates. They both tensed when the door opened. Unable to see over their hiding place they listened as the creature shuffled towards them. Untying gullwhacker from her waist she waited until who ever it was, was just on the opposite side of the crate. "Galedeeeeep!" she shouted hitting Brushtail full on the nose with the knotted rope.

"Quiet," River whisperd, puuling the squirel back behind the crates with them.

Overhead they could hear the fearful voice of Dargon. "We plunder, them burn her," he ordered.

The door to the hold burst open and Dargon, leading his band of cutthroats walked in. Dargon was a fearsom sight. Like Springrose his fur was entirely black, not one white hair. Strapped accros his back and waist were two belts holding three daggers. All had been soaked in poison. Hanging from one ear were two gold hoop earings. His sharp teeth gleamed as he gave a cold smile. His eyes were like molten lava.

River gave an invoulentary wimper. Springrose hoped that none of the horde had heard, but that hope was in vain. Dargon steped forward and shoved the crates aside, revealing the two mousemaids and squirel. River ran forward pulling a dagger from the folds of her habbit. She moved in about to stab, but Datgon het her with the back of his armored paw. River hit the wall and lay still.

Springrose and Brushtail were bound with grass ropes, and pulled outside. A storm was approaching from the south; dark clouds began to form above. Dargon turned to his crew, "What should we do to 'em?"

"Feed 'em to e' fishes!"

The wolf smiled, but there was no humor there. "Then throw 'em in." A fox and a weasle came forward. The fox picked up the squirming Brushtail while the weasle came to Rose.

"You're lucky. Most of em' are killed. The pris'ners O mean," the weasle whispered. "Sorry I have to do this."

Rose snorted, "What and throwing me into the sea with my paws bound during a storm is any different?"

The weasle glanced quickly around, making sure no one was paying attention then quickly slipped a dagger into her paw. "Cut the ropes off when you get into the watter. I hear there's a place, Redwall Abbey, you'll be safe there."

The fox before him managed to get Brushtail into the water. Rose looked at the dagger, then concealed it with her metal bird in her pocket. "Thank you, weasle, thank you....."

The fox turned around and grabbed Springrose's habbit. "I'll give you some help, weasle," he sneered. With the fox's help, he threw Rose overboard.

"Now jump in an' kill 'em. I don' want no creatures to know we're commin'," Dargon said, laughing insanely.

The fox's sneer vanished and, obediently, he slipped a dagger in his mout and jumped. The weasle looked back; then dagger in his paw, followed the fox. Rose was struggling with the fox unable to dislodge the form from her back. Brushtail was being swept away with the current. Banquo swam towards Rose, who was still struggling and stabbed the fox with his dagger. Swimming past the now still form, he tried to catch up with Rose, but she was, too, swept away by the current; away towards land. Shivering he did his best to stay afloat, and followed.

Chapter 3
~Written by Rab Streambattle~

Rose cried out in her sleep, troubled by the dreams of her recent past. A few hundred feet from her, a tall hare pricked his ears up. Quickly, he turned towardthe dunes behind him and crept up over them. He put a paw to his forehead, shading his eyes from the sweltering sun. He called softly back to his companions.

"Hey, there's someone on the shore," he said.

"Wot?" cried a pretty, sand-colored hare. "Is it a searat?"

"No," cried the first, a white hare with a black patch of fur around his left eye. "I think it's a mousemaid! But she's rather odd looking! There doesn't appear to be a single light hair on her whole blinkin' body! She's all black!"

"What?" said a third hare, black with one white paw. "All black? A bally mousemaid? Now there's a sight you don't see every day, wot?"

"I know, Swiftpaw! But she seems hurt! Let's go see if we can bally well help her, wot wot?"

The three dashed over to the mousemaid, who was thrashing madly about in her feverish dream. Swiftpaw called the lady hare, whose name was Everwind, over to Rose's side. "Quick," he said, "give me your waterskin."

"Right," she said, unstrapping it from her shoulder and handing it to him. The white hare came up to her.

"She sure is a bally young thing, eh?" he said to her.

"Yes, Angus, she is that. What do you think a little thing like her is doing so far from any sign of a settlement?"

The tall hare leaned on his pike and scrathed his head. "That I wouldn't know, Everwind. That I wouldn't know."

All of a sudden, the mousemaid began to cough softly. She stirred. "Wha? Captain Shiel. . .weasel? Oh no, Brushtail. . .What? Dargon? Oh mother. . .Mother, where are you? What's happening?"

Swiftpaw's head jerked around. "What?" he said, urgency in his eyes. "Did you hear her? She mentioned Dargon! That blood-thirsty villain! Has he returned to the mainland, then? We must warn Lord Walker!"

"Yes," said Everwind, "but what should we do about the mousemaid?

Swiftpaw was silent for a while, his head bowed in thought. Slowly, he raised his head and spoke. "One of us will need to hurry back to the mountain to warn Lord Walker of Dargon's return. The other two will bring the mousemaid back to Salamandastron."

Everwind nodded. "Swiftpaw, you're the fastest of us. You should be the one to go."

He shook his head. "No, Everwind. I must stay here to care for the maid. And I will need your help with her. That leaves you, Angus."

The patched hare nodded, then immediately sped off in the direction of the fire mountain.

"Now, Everwind, I'm going to need some sandroot to make a poultice for the chappess's wounds."

"Sandroot? The the bloody heck is that?"

"Look for a small depression in the sand. Then dig. There wil be a small root down about three feet. They're not well-known because it's more than a little difficult to dig a three foot hole in the sand, and when you do find them, most creatures don't tell how they got them so they can sell them for a profit."

Everwind, completely confused, shook her head in a bewildered manner. "Say again?" she asked.

"Look," said Swiftpaw, "just hurry and get the root! This poor gel's not in top shape, I say!"

The female hare nodded and darted off. Swiftpaw looked down at the small mousemaid lying before him. She rolled about feverishly, still mumbling abount Dargon.

"Don't you fret, missy, it will all be all right. Lord Walker will never let those vermin set foot past the fire mountain." He looked out toward the sea. Then he added softly, "I hope. . ."

"What?!" roared Walker Hammerflail, his voice echoing off of the stone walls of the forge. "Dargon? Heading back for the mainland? How dare that vermin scumbag show his face near here again!" Walker grabbed his spiked ball-and-chain from the wall and swung it around his head, bringing it crashing down, completely demolishing his anvil.

Angus leaped back, barely avoiding the weapon bashing his head in. "I say, watch it there, Lord Walker! That's m' best head there, wot! It wouldn' be a good thing if you knocked m' block off, sir. Could damage my thinkin', wot? Now, I'm not sure whether he is coming back or not! I didn't say that! But the mousemaid we found was mumbling something about him. It seems she may have been attacked while out at sea."

The blood-red tinge slowly left the badger lord's eyes, and his breathing returned to normal. "Yes, I'm sorry my friend. I have never been able to control my temper well where vermin are concerned. Especially when I hear that name. Ever since that day, when I was just a cub, and he attacked a ship I was sailing on! I was forced to see my own brother hurled into the sea, and then a very young weasel named Banquo was made to jump in after him! Strangely, though, the weasel seemed reluctant to jump in after him. He seemed to have a kindness in his eyes, and he didn't want to kill my brother. I will never forgive Dargon for that day."

At that moment, there was a call from the crater top. "Everwind and Swiftpaw returning, sah!" shouted a lookout hare.

"Ah," said Walker, "let us go meet our guest. That is if she is well enough to speak." The giant badger hung his ball-and-chain on his belt, the weapon which bore the same name as himself- the Hammerflail.

Walker walked down the steps to the main entrance. Looking out, he could make out his two hares carrying a makeshift stretcher bearing a coal-black mousemaid. Walker ran out to them, concerned for the health of the little one. Carefully, he picked up the stretcher, relieving the two weary hares. He carried the stretcher down into the infirmary, where Tarcrist, akind old hare, worked with the sick, wounded, and infant hares.

"Oh, bring the poor thing in!" she said. "Oh, the poor dear. Look at her, the poor creature." She hurried and had Walker lay Rose on a vacant bed. Rose moaned softly, and then settled into the bed, a peaceful smile finally spreading across her face.

"Oh, look at her," said Tarcrist. "Just think what the poor thing must have gone through."

"Yes," said the Badger Lord, "but I have a strange feeling, and I feer that she may still have to go through more. . ."

Chapter 4
~Written by Springrose~

A pair of dark eyes watched the hares carry the unconcious, but feaverish mousemaid into the fortified mountain of Salamandastron. As the shadows lengthened and day came to an end, a dark figure emerged from behind a sand dune where it had sheltered during the day. Steathily, the shadow came towards Salamandastron stopping at the main entrance.

Springrose opened her eyes, blinking to clear her vision. As her blurred vision cleared, she found she was staring into the eyes of a huge armoured badger. Startled, Rose jumped from the bed, landing so that the bed was between her and the badger lord. Beside her a hare spoke in a gentle voice.

"Everythings all right dearie. Just calm down a bit, wot? I'm Tarcist and that there," she pointed with her paw to the bager, "is Walker Hammerflail, badger lord of Salamandastron."

The mousemaid nearly fainted with relief. She was still a bit unsteady on her feet though so she slid to the ground. "You mean I made it?"

Tarcist nodded a bit puzzled at the mousemaid's reaction, "Yes, Welcome to Salamandastron."

A change seemed to come over the young mousemaid. Rose stood and in a buisnesslike manner brushed away the sand from her burlap smock. "I'm Springrose of Galedeep Abbey, but most call me Rose for short. I came here to tell you that..." she trailed off remembering all that had happened just a day or two ago. Rose swalowed her tears and went on, "that, Dargon is back. I'm not really sure what he plans, but whatever it is, he wants it to be a secret."

"And how do you know all of this, Rose?" the badger lord spoke for the first time.

Springrose looked up at the great badger, a sudden feeling of deja vu came upon her. Shaking the feeling away, she answered, "He attacked the ship I was on. I was the only one that--no thats not really true. There was one other besides me that survived the attack, a squirel called Brushtail. I don't know if he lived through the storm though. We were separated when we were thrown into the sea."

Tarcist saw the pain Rose went through to recount her story and spoke up, "Now young mouseygel, get into bed, wot? You need to get a a few bally winks in after all you've been through." She tucked Springrose in and then guided Hammerflail out to keep him from asking more questions.

Once out in the cool stone corridor, Hammerflail turned to the healer hare and waited. Tarcist frowned, "How did one as young as Springrose become so bally old? Have you ever herd of this Galethingy Abbey, she has been talking about?"

The badger lord smiled kindly at the hare. She had been one of his closest friends for some time now. He now got a faraway look in his eyes as he Saw into the past and furture. "Springrose is the grandaughter of one familiar to us all, Mariel Gullwhacker. When Mariel sailed into the west, she established a small Abbey on a tropical island. Her grandaughter is older than her years not only because of her brush with Dargon, but because of something else. Something that is different within her shall emerge violently hurting many around her. She has much to do to reach her goal and somehow she has something to do with my--" Walker stopped and siletly walked away, leaving his friend to puzzle over his words.

Brushtail awoke to the warmth and light of a cheery little bonfire and the smell of some wonderful baking bread. A small creature came up to him and shoved a bit of the food into his paw. "Welcome back, squirel. Eat some 'o that shrewbread. It'll put some life back into those limbs 'o yours." The shrew winked then went back to the fire.

Another shrew came up and put a tankard full of some sort of drink into his free paw. "Theres a bit 'o drink to wash the food down. I'm Log-a-Log, leader of Guosssom, the Guerrilla Union of South Stream Shrews of Mossflower, at your service."