The Weekly Muse #34

In Which We Meet More Mice, and Finally, The Raccoon Brethren

Last week in the read-through of my Very First Novel, our heroes had acquired a boat from Burrtail the beaver and were sailing merrily down the Sapphire River, stopping finally at the peaceful village of Delna where they met the aged mouse warrior Rahdii Swordtail. We rejoin the story still in Delna, ready to set off once more down the river!

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The next morning, the seven companions stood by the harbor, preparing to set off again on their quest. Rahdii had fulfilled his promise to them. Full twenty mice were assembled near the dock, fully armed and ready for war. Each carried a short dagger for hand-to-hand (or paw-to-paw) combat, on top of that, every mouse soldier was equipped with a bow and arrows.

A young, slender mouse bearing a short sword led the contingent. Although the mouse was young and fairly thin, he had the look of a warrior about him. This was further enhanced by the strong resemblance he bore to Rahdii. Sean imagined that Lukewil Sabrepaw, son of the Swordtail, looked exactly like Rahdii when the Mousewarrior was young.

Lukewil was quiet and withdrawn, surveying the scene about him with a detached air as if he were a mere bystander. Only the most careful observer could have seen the fiery spark in his eye, and the fierce warrior spirit that lurked behind the casual way in which his paw rested upon his short sword. Most Sirian mice are like that. They are a quiet, solitary species, generally conversing only with each other, if at all. They like to hide away in seclusion, writing long poems and spinning fabulous stories. It is only when danger threatens that they take up the sword, and then it is with a cold, hard ferocity that has made the mice of Sirilan feared as mighty warriors throughout the land.

Lukewil walked up to Conrad. "My warriors are ready to sail," he said flatly. "When do we leave?”

Conrad looked towards the dock. Floating just beside the Clearstream were two small logboats, with five small wooden benches in each boat and five tiny metal clasps on the sides of the boats, for holding the oars. Conrad turned back towards the mice and noticed that they were all carrying supply haversacks, besides their usual weapons. He smiled "Looks like we're all ready. Let's get it on!"

A rare smile flickered across Lukewil's face. He turned and gave the signal to the waiting mice. Instantly, a drumroll broke out, flags waved, and swords flashed, as the score of mice marched to their boats to a steady cadence.

The seven companions boarded the Clearstream once more and prepared to sail. Dwayne jerked the rope, the Clearstream’s sail billowed out, and she started forwards, accompanied by loud cheers.

As the Clearstream pulled away from the dock, followed by twin logboats full of Mousewarriors heaving away on the oars, Lukewil Sabrepaw looked back for a moment. There, in the middle of the cheering crowd, stood his father. Rahdii Swordtail had cast aside his walking staff, instead, he now clutched the ancient sword that had hung over the mantelpiece. He waved it aloft, the sun glinting off the polished blade as he called out, "Farewell, my son! May your sword be unbroken and your arrows true!" Despite himself, Lukewil could not stop a tear coming into his eye. He raised his shortsword and held it high, returning his father's farewell.

Unbeknownst to anyone, other eyes had witnessed the proceedings at the riverside. A faint, shadowy form slipped away from the cover of a thick, green bush and moved off silently towards the North.

Later that day, Rakkla, the Fox Captain of the Tara Raiders pulled into a little hidden cove, a few miles north of Delna. With him were eight light ships, full of Tara Raiders and Feline Legionnaires. As Rakkla leaped ashore, a lithe weasel scout slipped out of the trees and went to meet the fox. He performed an elaborate salute and made his report. The weasel told the fox everything he had seen in Delna, from the arrival of the Clearstream the previous night to its departure that morning.

Rakkla scowled "So, that fool Rahdii has sent his son to help them? Pah! I don't care if they have fivescore trained warriors, we're going to hunt them down and kill them if it's the last thing I do! Get the troops ready, we're moving out!" he barked at his captain.

A stubby orange tabby, who was the Feline Centurion in charge of the hundred Legionnaires with Rakkla, confronted him. "You don't mean we're going in there after them? In the Southern Forest?"

Quick as lightning, Rakkla whipped out his sabers and faced the centurion. "If I say we’re going after them, we’re doing it, no matter what you think! Now, you can either remain behind, or follow me! Well, what's it going to be?"

The centurion knew what the Fox Captain meant by the phrase remain behind. He quickly tried to pacify Rakkla. "All right, all right, you can put up your swords, there’s no need to get excited. I and my command will follow you wherever you want, even if it does mean into the Southern Forest."

Rakkla sheathed his swords. "Good. Get the troops ready to move out. Oh, and by the way, we're not going directly to the Southern Forest. We have a little stop first."

"Really, where?” the centurion asked.

Rakkla smiled evilly.  "Those villagers in Delna aided and abetted the enemy. They sheltered the seven companions and provided them with a score of reinforcements and two more boats. That doesn't make Lord Taradash very happy. And you know what happens when the King gets angry. " He laughed cruelly.

The tabby centurion dutifully joined in with the fox's laughter, even though his stomach turned at the thought of attacking a peaceful and unarmed Sirian village without warning. But he was sworn to the service of his Queen, and he knew all too well what would happen if Cavanessa Montashleigh learned that he had disobeyed orders. So, with a heavy heart, he turned and prepared to carry out the Fox Captain's commands.

Unaware of Rakkla’s devious plans, the questing party had made camp farther downstream. No one said anything as they ate their nightly meal. They were all absorbed with thoughts of the morrow, when, by Dwayne's reckoning, they would reach the boundary of the Southern Forest. Finally, Alexan broke the silence in his usual sarcastic manner. "Well, you all are a cheery lot, I must say. If I had known we were going to have this much fun, I would have brought the Rocklawn jester along to join in the party."

A half-hearted chuckle ran through the small group. Conrad noticed that Lucy was sitting a little way off from the campfire. "Hey, Lucy, is something wrong?"

Lucy turned to Conrad. “Um, I’m not afraid or anything, but, well... do we really have to go in the Dar- I mean, the Southern Forest?"

Before Conrad could reply, Sean said, "You know, when we started out, I was pretty optimistic about the quest, but now, listening to some of the stories those villagers were telling about the Forest and the Raccoon Brethren, I'm kinda losing the optimism."

A few of the mice murmured assent. Lukewil said nothing, but an indefinable something about the mouse made Conrad felt sure that Lukewil, at least, was not apprehensive about the next day's journey. However, Conrad also realized that Lukewil was enough of a warrior that he would not needlessly endanger the lives of those under him. The rhyme said three kids had to go to find the Lost Island. If two decided not to go, then surely the expedition was doomed for failure.

To be honest, Conrad himself was worried about the menace of the Raccoon Brethren. However, he was the leader of the little band, and he knew that he had to somehow rally the others and get their spirits up. And he couldn't do that very well if he himself was showing signs of fear. "Look, you guys, we can't give up now. We're Sirilan's only hope! If we quit now, just because we're afraid, than Taradash will still have control! Without us, the prince may never get found! Don't you see? We have to do it! Even if we don't make it, we still have to try.”

There was a moment's silence, then Shenan rose to his feet. "We have shamed ourselves by our manifold cowardice," he said. "What Conrad speaks is truth, for surely we are the last hope of this oppressed land. Therefore, let us go forward into the Southern Forest, and confront the Raccoon Brethren, so that we may find the Lost Island and restore the son of King Lawrence to his rightful place as King!"

Conrad drew his sword and stepped on top of a small rise, near the campfire. "Tomorrow, Shenan and I are going into the Southern Forest. Who's coming with me?"

Alexan rose and moved to join them. "Well, I certainly can't let you have all the fun. Besides, what would Father say if he knew I let my dear brother go off unattended?"

Dwayne strode to them "Y'all kin count meh in. Lord Rocklawn told meh to accompanah y'all t’ the Lost Ahland, an' Ah'm gonna follah y'all to th' end of the earth if necessarah!" He twirled his left sling emphatically.

Lucy moved to join the four companions. "Well, I’m sure not staying behind. What if Lord Taradash gets here and you all are running off to the Southern Forest, what am I going to do?"

Sean stepped forward.  "I'm definitely going. What's the point of coming to another world like we have, and taking on an adventure here, then turning back because we’re afraid of a bunch of raccoons?"

Luther flew forward to join the others "Well. I must state categorically that I am certainly not remaining in the rear like a craven recreant, whilst you travel hither and on the pathway of lofty escapades!"

The owl would have said more, but he was cut off by Lukewil Sahrepaw. The Mousewarrior stepped to the small rise and drew his shortsword.  "I will come as well," he stated flatly. As one, the other mice moved to join him.

Conrad felt a surge of pride. He felt highly honored to have such friends on this noble quest. “Then, we’re all agreed,” he said, trying to keep a slight quaver out of his voice, “Tomorrow, we’ll start into the Southern Forest!"

The next morning was bright with golden sunshine, with only a few thin wisps of cloud dotting the wide expanse of pale blue. The Clearstream, accompanied by the two mouse logboats, was riding at anchor on the outskirts of the Southern Forest. Before the companions stretched a towering wall of massive oaks, lordly beeches, and other stately trees of the wood. Behind them, they could see sprawling meadows and patches of trees. Had they paid more attention to the northern horizon, they might have noticed that the thin strands of dark cloud on the horizon were not clouds, but smoke. They might have realized that there was more smoke darkening the skyline than could be made by the village campfires. However, they didn't notice these things, for their attention was concentrated on the looming forest before them.

Now, they had all decided to continue on into the Southern Forest and fulfill their quest.  However, the sight of this unbroken wall of solid greenery stretching to the east arid nest as far as the eye could see had driven the reality of their decision home.

There was a moment of silence. Then, Sean turned to the others, drew his rapier, and held it forth dramatically. "Well, then, are we going to keep our promises that we made last night, to continue with the quest into the Forest and befriend the Raccoon Brethren. or not?"

Every one on board the three boats nodded assent. "Then, if you will all have it so, let us go forward!"

The questors cheered wildly, although Conrad felt a touch of envy at Sean's taking the lead like that. Yet, he soon reconciled himself with the fact that Sean was having more fun than the other two kids. For Sean, it was like Lucy in the Chronicles of Narnia. He was practically living an adventure story and Conrad decided not to envy him his dramatic moments.

And so, the Clearstream, the two logboats, and the twenty-eight questors aboard sailed proud, yet still apprehensive, into the Southern Forest, the domain of the Raccoon Brethren!

About an hour after the companions had left, eight light ships arrived at the boundary of the Southern Forest. Skivvel leaped ashore and cast about in the shrubbery, searching for traces of the companions. The slimy rat soon found his search interrupted by squads of Tara Raiders, who had been ordered by Rakkla to search the shoreline for clues of the questors. Skivvel started to chastise them, but he was cut off by Rakkla. "You, there, rat, Stop your worthless chatter and make your report! Are there any signs of them?'

Skivvel shook his head "No, they haven't come ashore. They must have gone into the Forest."

Rakkla sighed impatiently. “Then we will go after them! You, centurion, and you, Commander, get those soldiers aboard! We set sail, now!”  

The Tara Raiders and Feline Legionnaires looked uneasy, but the look in Rakkla's made them even more uneasy than the Dark Forest. The soldiers on shore clambered aboard the ships, weapons were made ready, ropes were tightened, and the eight fighter-laden ships rode head-on into the darkness of the Southern Forest. Behind them, thin tendrils of smoke wafted up from the blackened ruins of Delna. Rakkla's soldiers had done their work well. The village was completely destroyed.  

Only a few villagers had survived the vicious attack. The weary survivors gathered in the devastated marketplace to take stock of their situation. Their village was in ruins and most of their friends had been slain. Worst of all, their leader, Rahdii Swordtail, had disappeared. No one knew where the brave Mousewarrior was, but regardless of whether he had been killed in the attack, or had escaped and gone into hiding, the villagers' plight was the same. With Rahdii gone and his son Lukewil off questing somewhere, they were without a leader to help them through the crisis. Things looked pretty bleak in Delna.

Things didn't look much better in the Southern Forest. As the Clearstream drifted slowly downstream, followed by the two logboats, Lucy felt a shiver of fear. The Forest was a forbidding place, locked in eternal twilight by the leafy green canopies that spread out high above them. A congregation of massive brown trunks rose skyward around, looming up like a host of giants. The great trees crowded close on the shore, clustering together so thickly that they blocked out all view of the Forest beyond.

The most forbidding aspect of the Southern Forest, however, was its utter silence. The only sound the companions could hear was the slow swish and creak of their ships as they moved slowly onward. The silence didn't seem like ordinary quietness, like in a library or a busy classroom. No, this silence was doom-laden, with an ominous air pervading the entire area, like the calm before the storm.

Sean noticed this oppressive silence, and it worried him. "Hey, Dwayne," he whispered, "Have you noticed how quiet it is? No birds, no bugs, nothing! Almost like something bad is about to happen."

A tense Dwayne agreed, "Yep, Ah noticed it, an' Ah tell ya, Ah don't lahk it! Weh bettah beh on th' lookout fer an' ambush or somethin,"

Hardly had Dwayne finished speaking when suddenly a long jagged spear ripped out of the foliage and slammed into the mast of the Clearstream. A chorus of shrill screams erupted out of the thick canopy above.

"Eyah chakka chakkaaaaaa!”

Shenan snatched his sword, his normally bold and courageous face ashen. "That's the war cry of the Raccoon Brethren!"

Suddenly. from the midst of the thick foliage, masses of wild raccoons burst out, screaming wildly and waving curious weapons aloft. They had a crazed look in their maddened eyes, and their shrill chattering filled the air. One particularly savage raccoon climbed onto a high tree limb and shrieked out with an insane joy, "Chakkchakkkaaaa! Yer catched now. hahahaaa!! Da Raccoon Brethren gotcha now, an' we's hungry, huuuungry! Eyah chakka chakkaaaaaaaa!"

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2024 me’s notes: I regret now that I didn’t have Alexan snark more during the pep-rally scene; if I were writing this story today, after Conrad drew his sword and made his little “Tomorrow we start forward!” speech, Alexan would’ve chimed in two seconds later with something not unlike Rocket Raccoon in Guardians of the Galaxy. [mild language warning]:

Anyway, this is clearly the part where I tried to ramp up the pathos a bit as we head towards the finale. Lukewil is introduced, whereupon his village is destroyed; we have a major rallying speech, and then of course we finally get into the Southern Forest and there they are, you know ‘em, you love ‘em, the Raccoon Brethren!

If I recall my thought process behind this, it went basically like so: what have we got over here that the British Isles, and therefore Redwall, haven’t got? Raccoons. You know what would be cool? Make ‘em crazy warriors with javelins and stuff.

So yeah. There you are.

Next week: do our heroes survive the Raccoon Brethren? We’ll find out!

Until next time,

Michael