Last week in the read-through of my Very First Novel , our heroes met some beavers with nigh-incomprehensible dialect and acquired a boat. This week we rejoin the Quest for the Lost Island in progress mid-sail down the Sapphire River!
It was the morning after the seven questors had left Burrtail's home. The bright golden sun shone high in the cloudless sky, shining benevolently down upon the Clearstream, which skimmed along in the waters of the Sapphire River like a high-flying eagle.
Sean Christopher stood nobly in the prow, hand over his heart, his hair blowing in the breeze, with an expression of bravery and courage on his face, rather like Washington crossing the Delaware. He was doing fairly well at looking brave and adventurous until the boat hit a high wave and abruptly pitched upwards. Sean tried to keep his balance, failed, and tumbled into the river. Fortunately, Sean had taken some swimming lessons earlier that year. Unfortunately, the only thing he had managed to do successfully was stay afloat, and that was in a calm 5-feet-deep pool, with plenty of lifeguards around. He had never had any swimming experience whatsoever in a deep, flowing river with large waves and no lifeguards at all. Sean promptly did what anyone in that situation would do: panic. "Heeellllp!" he called frantically, while trying desperately to stay afloat and having about as much success as a brick.
Luther, who was not too fond of sea travel and had been flying overhead, swooped down and caught hold of the back of Sean's shirt with his talons. The owl pulled Sean from the water and set him gently back aboard the Clearstream. To give her credit, Lucy had been trying not to laugh at Sean's mishap, but one look at Sean's drenched and bedraggled form sent her into tucks of laughter. Sean stood up with an air of outraged dignity, turned haughtily, and marched off towards the back of the boat. Alas for his injured pride, a gust of wind caught the Clearstream's sails and she lurched forwards. Sean slipped, tried frantically to stay upright, and tumbled into the river for a second time. Even Alexan could not keep from laughing as Luther hauled Sean out again.
While Sean was drying off in the back of the boat, Conrad was happily watching the scenery. The banks of the Sapphire River were thinly wooded, but the patches of forest were often broken up by meadows. Every now and then, a small stream or a chuckling brook would flow into the river, and there were a few times when a sidestream would leave the Sapphire and run its merry way off into the Southern Lands of Sirilan.
Lucy was thoroughly enjoying the voyage. At least, she was enjoying it now that she had gotten over her seasickness. For the first several hours after they had left Burrtail's home, Lucy had been experiencing an unpleasant reunion with her breakfast, and lunch. When they had finally stopped to camp for the night, Lucy had raced ashore as if the boat was contaminated by a deadly plague. Once ashore, she had immediately fallen to her knees and kissed the ground (Literally). Now, on the second day of their cruise down the Sapphire, Lucy was faring much better. She had finally `gotten her sea legs,' to quote a nautical expression., and was now strolling around and chatting with the others as easily as if she had been a sailor all her life.
Alexan and Shenan had never sailed before, but they quickly became used to it. Shenan rather enjoyed it. Alexan, of course, looked bored.
As for Dwayne, he had made many voyages by sea and was an experienced sailor. He knew quite a bit about managing the sails, minding the tiller, and paddling with the oars when the wind died down. He also had a. good eye for currents and breezes, and had a large vocabulary of nautical expressions, with a Texan twist. "Ahoy, theah, ya swabs, mizzen mah mainmayast, theah sheh blows! Pull thayat tillah hand to stahberd, nah, raht, Shawn, raht, naht layeft!" With the possible exception of Luther, who as I have already said was not that fond of water travel, the seven questors were heartily enjoying their voyage on the Sapphire.
As the days passed, and the Clearstream skimmed on farther down the river, the scenery gradually changed. The trees thickened and the meadows grew fewer. There were also fewer Sirian sailors and settlements along the shores of the Sapphire. For the farther south one went in Sirilan, the greater the fear of the Raccoon Brethren grew, and the smaller and smaller the towns and villages became.
Eventuallv, on the afternoon of the eleventh day since they had left Burrtail's home, the seven questors arrived at a tiny village that was only a half-day's journey from the boundaries of the Southern Forest. The village was surrounded by a low rock wall, which was guarded by several sentries. When the seven companions sailed into the harbor, they soon became the main object of attention. As they pulled alongside a small pier and made the ship fast. Lucy felt a tingle run up her back. It was a feeling she got whenever she felt as if someone was watching her that she couldn't see.
She turned around and gasped with shock. Standing on the shore was the entire population of the village! From the oldest elder to the youngest newborn, every man, woman, and child had gathered on the shore to watch them. There were also many animals, including many mice. What really unnerved Lucy about the watching crowd was their utter silence. Not one of them had said a word. They were all simply staring at the strange vessel that had sailed into their village.
The others finished tying down the Clearstream and walked onto the pier. They all seemed nervous, except Dwayne. He strode out boldly in front, one rugged paw resting on his left sling. The other six questors took courage and followed Dwayne, down the pier and right towards the crowd of villagers watching them.
"Waal, ain't that nahce of y’all, comin’ out to grayt us lahk this," Dwayne remarked loudly. “Y’know, it ain't real pilaht of y'all t' jist stand theah and not say anahthang. Anahwun wanna say somethin', make an' announcemeyent or a welcomin' spaich or somethin-'? C'mon, somebodah, say somethin!"
There was a short pause, then an old gray mouse stepped forward. He was about three feet tall and had a long beard that flowed down to his chest. In his right paw, he carried a short stick, which he used as a walking staff. He had a look of wisdom and learning about him; and something about the mouse, a faint flash in his eye, something about the way he clenched the short staff, gave Sean the impression that this mouse had once been a great warrior.
"I welcome you to the humble village of Delna," he said in a voice that, while showing marks of age, still vibrated with authority and held traces of the fighting spirit he had possessed when he was younger. "I am Rahdii Swordtail, one of the chief elders of this village. So then, pray tell me, who are you, and what manner of Sirians might you be that you dare to travel south, towards the Dark Forest?"
Conrad looked at the others, then he turned and spoke to the mouse elder. "Sir," he said respectfully, "we will tell you everything about us and all that, but could we maybe talk somewhere else? I don't want to be rude or anything, but, you know, if you don't mind, that is, um…"
Rahdii nodded understandingly. "Follow me, friends. I will take you to a place where we may talk freely, and in private. Come this way," The mouse turned and began walking towards the village. The Sirian villagers moved aside for the mouse elder and they remained standing aside to allow a clear path for the seven companions. As they walked through the crowd, Scan noticed that all the Sirians were still watching them.
The seven questors followed Rahdii past several small dwelling places and through an open marketplace, with several booths and tents set up for business. The marketplace was deserted at the moment, but Conrad noticed that the marketplace did not show much sign of abundant business anyway. As they continued through the village, the seven friends saw other traces of hard times in Delna. Several houses were boarded up, those that weren't looked run-down and worn, and the village well was broken-down, little more than a hole in the ground A thick, frayed rope trailed down into the well.
"Our village has suffered greatly since the death of King Lawrence," Rahdii explained when Conrad asked him about the state of the village. "Once, Delna was a prosperous and merry town. Travelers always stopped here to rest before continuing into the Forest. The Raccoon Brethren also visited here. They were a noble people, fierce and proud, a people of great hearts and courageous spirits. But then, Lawrence was slain by villainous ruffians, and Taradash took over. His evil ways drove the Raccoon Brethren deep into the Forest. His offense forced them to take up their old ways of wildness and savagery.
Alas, since then, few travelers have come down the Sapphire River. Many of our own villagers fled, fearing attacks by the Tara Raiders. Our prosperity melted away like the snow in springtime. Now, we are poverty-stricken and forsaken. Not even the Tara Raiders travel here, for they too are afraid of the wild brethren of the trees. This is why the Sirians were so fascinated with your arrival. It has been many a year since a sail was sighted in the port of Delna.”
Lucy felt sorry for the unhappy villagers, living as they were in a dying village on the edge of the Southern Forest. The seven companions followed Rahdii into a little stone house on the far side of the little village. The inside of the house was simple and unassuming with only three rooms The first room was a small sitting room, with a tiny cooking space in one corner, a few cushions and straight -backed chairs, and a large fireplace in the right wall. A gleaming sword rested on two metal hooks above the mantel. The sword's blade was scarred and battle-worn, but it was clearly the blade of an expert warrior.
The room beyond the sitting room was evidently Rahdii's bedroom. Here there rested a simple folding cot, with a small table nearby, on which rested a wooden basin, for washing paws and faces in. There was a tiny clothes closet in one wall, while in the other wall a wooden door led into another room, which Rahdii said was his son Lukewil's room. "Where is he?" Lucy asked.
Rahdii sighed. "Oh, roaming hither and yon, marshaling troops for his mouse battalion. My son burns with an ambition to become a Mousewarrior like I was, and to defeat Lord Taradash. But surely, Taradash will not be defeated until all of Sirilan rises up against him. And that can only happen if the Legend of the Lost Island is fulfilled and the prince is found! And I am beginning to think that the legend will never come to pass."
"On that note,” Conrad said cheerily, "I think it's time we told you about our quest, and who we really are." The story took a while to tell, and when they had finished, the old Mousewarrior's eyes were wide with amazement.
"Are you in earnest? You seven have really set out to find the Lost Island?" Rahdii asked incredulously.
"Yep," Sean replied. "We three kids really came from another world, and we are really setting out to find the Lost Island. But we have to do that by sailing down the Sapphire River, into the Southern Forest, or the Dark Forest, or whatever you call it."
Luther rose up importantly and stated, "The correct name is the Southern Forest, notwithstanding, due to the various narratives and negative accounts circulating around the vicinity, many have denominated it the Caliginous Woodland."
"Why, thank you," Sean said, laughingly, "Anyway, we also have to go into the Southern Forest and find the Raccoon Brethren, `cause the legend said that we're supposed to make friends with them, and-"
Sean got no further. Rahdii had an expression of terrible fear on his face. "Did I hear you correctly?" he almost squeaked in dismay. "You are to befriend the Raccoon Brethren? Are you mad? The wild kin of the trees would slay you before you could say three words! They rule the Dark Forest more than any king ever could! They have deadly spears which can strike a target hundreds of feet away! They have maces and strange swords and knives and-"
"Look," said Conrad, "1 don't care if they've got machine guns and rocket launchers! The fact is, the legend said that we're supposed to make friends with them to find the Lost Island, and that's what we're going to do, and I don't care what weapons they have!"
There was a moment of silence, then Rahdii leaned back in his chair and sighed heavily There was a faint twinkle in his eye. "Well done, young ones. I see now that you have indeed the bravery needed to find the Lost Island. I have been studying the Legend for nigh on eleven years, and I had come to the same conclusions you did about the place of the Lost Island, and the Raccoon Brethren. I would have led an expedition myself, but I was becoming old, and besides, the legend said that those three had to go on the quest. And so, I waited for all those years, waiting for you three to come. Now you are here, and now I know of a certainty you have the courage to confront the Raccoon Brethren. Therefore, tomorrow, you shall set out from here and travel to meet them, with an entire contingent of mice to help you!"
2024 me’s notes: Yes, we’re still in the borrowing from Redwall phase of the book: we’ve now introduced the brave warrior mouse character. Well, technically, we haven’t met him yet exactly. That’ll come next week. As will the Raccoon Brethren (finally).
And if you’re worried about the fate of this sad little forgotten village on the banks of the Sapphire, well, don’t worry; after all, we’re in the hands of Past Me Trying to be a Great Writer, and I wouldn’t have let anything happen to these random bystanders for the sake of adding emotional resonance to the story’s mission, right? Of course not. That would be silly. Incidentally, did I mention the brave warrior mouse character we’ll be meeting next time will be Rahdii’s son Lukewil, not appearing in this chapter? He’ll get back just in time to say farewell to his dear old mouse father as our heroes sail on further south. Won’t that be nice.
Anyway, until next time,
Michael