The Weekly Muse #26

In Which We Move from Ripping off Narnia to Ripping off Redwall

Last week in the read-through of my Very First Novel, our heroes had an argument and then made up (yay!), and a small misunderstanding turned into the Most Hilarious Joke in the History of Comedy. Before we move on, a few unrelated thoughts: first, Loki is a wonderful series and you should watch it. Secondly, as Doctor Who is coming to DisneyPlus with new episodes, I’m going to start a rewatch of the old ones, starting from Christopher Eccleston, I plan to comment in future Weekly Muse editions as I go. Third, writing-wise, I’m still working on this year’s novel, but so you know, all my novels are free in e-book form on Amazon today through Monday. It’s the holidays, and it’s shopping season, so I hope you’ll indulge this small bit of promo. Now, on to Chapter Seven, in which we set forth on the quest!

---

Five days had passed since Sean, Lucy, and Conrad had come into Sirilan. The day after their arrival, they had started towards Rocklawn, to meet with Lord Evan Ramsey, who could give them the information they needed about the location of the Lost Island.

The three kids had been exhilarated at the start of their journey. They were setting out on a great quest, the likes of which was only a story, or a fairy tale in our world. Of course, Luther constantly pointed out that the actual quest would not begin until they had left Rocklawn and were heading south, but they ignored him. On what they considered the first day of the quest for the Lost Island [editorial note: TITLE DROP], the three were filled with excitement, wonder, and a sense of high adventure.

Note, I said on the first day. By day two, their elation had begun to fade. And when the third day came and went without any sign of Rocklawn, even Sean, the most excited of them all, was discouraged.

You see, although Luther had told them that Rocklawn was fully five days journey from his home, the three kids had thought of it as being fairly close by, and easily reachable in a day, two at most. They had also pictured the journey to Rocklawn to be made up of leisurely hikes, frequent rests, and plenty to eat along the way.

These hopeful expectations were soon dashed. Instead of casually strolling along, even jogging now and then, they soon had settled down to a steady trudge, plodding on and on and on towards a horizon that never seemed to get any nearer. Instead of frequent stops to rest and relax, they had quick pauses, always tense with the ever-present danger of Tara Raiders. And as for their expectations of abundant food supplies, well, these too were quickly disappointed. Luther had only packed light rations, for great heavy sacks of food would only slow them down. They needed to move quickly, to avoid detection by the Tara Raiders.

And so, the three kids toiled on, under blazing sunlight by day and pale moonlight by night. Late each night, they would find a secluded place and bed down, to catch a few short hours of sleep, before rising early next morning and setting off again.

 That journey was one of the most boring parts of their whole adventure. And yet, as Sean later reflected, many adventures are like that. In the stories, adventures always seem to consist of one thrill after another, a constant round of excitement and danger. The boring parts, such as long weary treks and normal day-to-day activities are often forgotten, or glossed over, in the shadow of the thrilling parts, such as feats, or brave and daring deeds, or epic battles.

It was the afternoon of the fifth day. Luther was slowly gliding overhead. The owl preferred to fly rather than walk, partly because he could see farther and could more easily alert the kids if Tara Raiders were approaching, and partly because it was easier to simply float along in the wind currents than to march wearily forward on the flat, relentless ground. Below him, the three kids trekked steadily along.

Sean was thoroughly exhausted. He was not what you would call athletically inclined; in fact, he hated sports, preferring to spend his time reading books. The longest distance he had ever walked was a mile, and that was only because his gym teacher made him. Sean had no idea exactly how far they had walked in the last four days, but he bet that it was a lot more than a mile. He was practically drenched in sweat, his feet were aching, his head was pounding, and his stomach was growling after four days of light rations. Sean felt as if he had just run a marathon.

But if Sean felt bad, Lucy felt even worse. Forestview Middle School had many athletics programs for girls, and a large number of girls had chosen to participate in them, but Lucy was not one of them. She had never run a mile in her life. In fact, the most running she had ever done was running to the mall to see if there were any new sales.

Lucy felt like she had been run over by a tank. She was huffing and puffing like the Big Bad Wolf, and she was sweating so much that she was leaving a little stream behind her as she plodded along. Her heart was pounding like a jackhammer, her feet were killing her, and she felt like she had not eaten in days. At the start of the journey, Lucy had wondered if she would survive until they reached the Lost Island. Now she wondered if she would even survive until Rocklawn.

Conrad, having been involved in sports and athletics programs for as long as he could remember, was doing better than the other two, but even he felt drained. He had been on long hikes before, but never one that lasted for five days. On top of that, Conrad, like the other two, was feeling hunger pangs. He was used to eating three good meals a day, plus snacks, not very small rations in the morning and at night. Conrad longed for the journey to be over.

That day seemed to stretch on for hours and hours, until it seemed as if it had been years since morning. They had left the thinly wooded hills and were now out into what Luther called the Eastern Plain, which was more like a wide, flat prairie. While the rest of Sirilan had patches of forest, and areas of hills and valleys, the Eastern Plain was mostly flat and treeless, except for a few shrubs and scraggly looking trees, which looked as if they were going to die of thirst any minute. The farther east you went, the flatter and more treeless it became, until you arrived at the Far Eastern Desert. The immense desert extended far beyond the boundaries of Sirilan. Few Sirians had ever entered into the vast expanse of sand of heat and come out alive. Most stayed out of the Far Eastern Desert.

Rocklawn was built about halfway between the luscious, well-watered river valleys in the center of Sirilan, where the three rivers met, and the Far Eastern Desert. Luther had assured the three kids that they would reach Rocklawn on the fifth day since they had left his nest, but it was now late afternoon on the fifth day, and Rocklawn was not in sight.

Sean slowly took one exhausting step after another. He felt as if he was walking under water. Sean's head pounded as if a horde of elephants were dancing on his eyelids, his tennis shoes were so full of sweat that they sloshed as he trudged wearily along, and his stomach kept cramping and sending shafts of pain lancing through his body. Sean didn't think he could take much more of this. It vaguely registered in his brain that Luther had flown farther ahead to check out something, but he had no idea what, and he didn't really care. All he wanted was relief from the long and arduous journey.

Just when Sean reached the point where he felt as if he could not have taken another step, he heard Luther call from the sky, "Eureka! I have espied our destination ahead! It is the chateau of Rocklawn!"

Immediately the three kids' exhaustion and hunger flew away. They ran towards the castle as fast as they could, hearts racing with excitement. At last, the long journey was over! They had reached Rocklawn!

The chateau of Rocklawn was a vast, rambling manor, sprawling across the open countryside. The friendly castle was surrounded by a high, battlemented wall, which was reinforced by several strong towers and a sturdy gatehouse. The castle itself resembled a fortified mansion, three stories high, with small towers at the corners, several grand balconies, tall windows, and even a resplendent flower garden in the back. At first glance, one might have thought that Rocklawn would be easily overcome by an attacking force, but this impression was belied by the strong wall and gatehouse, the robust guards that manned the fortifications, and the overflowing armory. On the other hand, Rocklawn was not a typical castle, with its flower gardens and its many balconies and windows, easily reachable from the ground. The whole place seemed a mixture of strength and friendliness, of peace and security.

As the owl and the three kids approached, a stout guard gruffly hailed them from the wall. "Halt! Who goes there, friend or foe?"

Luther called up, "It is I! Lutherian Antonius Julius Themarius, with a triad of guests to engage in conversation with the noble aristocrat about certain subjects that would be beneficial to the sovereign state and would also thereby..."

"All right, all right, you may pass," the guard interrupted. He looked as if he was used to Luther's intellectual speeches. He signaled to someone inside the gatehouse. An iron portcullis laboriously rose upwards, the great gates creaked slowly open, and the four companions entered into Rocklawn.

After they had passed through the impressively solid gateway, they found themselves in the castle courtyard. The spacious courtyard was bustling with activity, animals and humans busily moving about here and there, carrying about their duties. Many were idly chatting with their friends, casually strolling about the castle lawns, or simply resting and admiring the magnificent castle or the dazzling array of color in the flower gardens.

As the three kids, accompanied by the owl, strode through the castle courtyard, they soon became the object of attention. Curious Sirians gathered round the four companions, chattering to each other in their various dialects about the strangers. "Ah, sure, an' would y' look at that now. They're right ould strangers, if I ever saw one, an' that's a fact, so 'tis,"

"Steady on there, old chap, three of them are most definitely strangers, but not that jolly old owl, wot wot! That's Luther, the Longwinded, dontcha know,"

Luther rounded on the speaker, a tall collie, who vaguely resembled Lassie. "I beg your pardon, sir! I am a bird of high intellectual standing! As such, I am behooved to permit others to partake of my multitudinous knowledge, but my discourses are most certainly not interminable!"

"I say, does anyone know what he's talking about? Cause I jolly well don't, wot wot!" the collie rejoined.

A brawny jackrabbit casually remarked in an accent that strongly resembled cowboy Texan, "Well, Ah don't reckon as Ah know if anyone could figger that out , ceptin' maybe other owls, but Ah kinda doubt it," producing a laugh from the crowd. Luther looked furious.

The buzz of conversation that followed the jackrabbit's remark was cut short as two uniformed guards pushed through the crowd and announced loudly, "Lord Ramsey has been informed of your coming, and has requested that you attend him immediately in the Great Hall."

The four companions silently followed the guards towards the mansion, although Luther kept mumbling irately to himself about `uneducated rabble' and `squandered intelligence, absolutely wasted on those creatures' and other such irritated remarks. They passed through a massive doorway, and into an immense hall, which was largely taken up by a grand staircase, sweeping up to the upper stories of the castle. The guards led them past the staircase, and towards two great doors at the end of the hallway. One guard held up a hand, motioning for the four companions to wait there, while the other pulled open one heavy door and slipped inside. After a few minutes, he returned and announced, "Lord Ramsey is within and bids you, enter." The two soldiers heaved open the heavy doors, and the three kids, plus Luther, walked through.

The Great Hall of Rocklawn was a grand place, filled with large tables, great high-backed chairs, and at one end, a huge fireplace. The walls were covered with magnificent paintings and tapestries, depicting famous men and women of the Ramsey line. Rich carpets decorated the floor, and a bright chandelier hung from the ceiling above. The three kids stood amazed, gaping at the splendor of the chamber, until a small door opened near the fireplace and two men walked through. One of them appeared to be a herald, judging by his elaborate uniform and the trumpet he carried. The other was soon identified by the herald's blaring pronouncement, "Announcing, the baron of Rocklawn, Lord Evan Ramsey!"

---

2023 me’s comments:

And yes, you’ll have to wait until next week to meet our new character properly; that said, I can assure you that although we won’t see the collie much anymore, the jackrabbit will definitely return. I offer sincere apologies to any cowboy Texans in the audience. My thought process at the time was that I needed a talking animal character and I needed to distinguish it from Redwall, so I thought I’d make him American, so hey, why not make him a full-blown cowboy type? So yeah.

Also, it occurs to me now that I used an inordinate amount of commas back then. I hope I’ve gotten better about that.

Until next time,

Michael