44

Skipper and Jander had wanted to continue speaking to Ben, but the raccoon left quickly, and they had no chance to further question. Of course, both of them were so surprised by the sudden appearance of the Sword of Martin that they decided to head back to Redwall immediately.

There was a big problem, of course, that the two of them had no idea of as they headed in the direction of the Abbey through the woods of Mossflower. Neither of them knew of what had happened at the Abbey in all this time, and there was no way for them to find out until they arrived.

Or rather, there was one way, and it was watching the otter and squirrel from the bushes. Two pairs of eyes were fixed on the shining sword the otter held, and another pair of eyes spied on them from the branches. They were waiting to see what was going on, and listening to the conversation the two creatures were holding with each other.

Skipper stared ahead of him as he spoke to Jander, "So we've finally returned to Mossflower. I didn't think I was ever going to come back here."

Jander sighed, "Aye. After the Gousim left, and poor Raga was murdered, I knew that it was going to be the end of me. Remember up there on the mountains?"

Skipper shuddered, remembering the death of Log a Log Gunnar, "I wonder if those shrews ever made it back home."

Jander looked at the sword Skipper was carrying, "So what do we tell Abbott Varrus?"

Skipper sighed, "It's going to be a long story, matey. This one will need a lot of explaining."

Suddenly a bird suddenly flew down in front of them, "Redwallers! I have news for you!"

Jander's eyes lit up, "Warbeak! It's been so long since I last saw you!"

Skipper stared, "A sparrow that speaks our language?"

The sparrow nodded, "I am Warbeak, and I am accompanied with two companions."

Skipper turned to see where Warbeak was pointing and saw two creatures emerge from a nearby bush. One was a wizened old fox, the other a strange animal that he had never seen before.

The strange creature bowed slightly, "Sirs, I am Adisa, exiled from Redwall because I come to tell the truth."

Skipper and Jander raised their eyebrows. This was a surprise, indeed.

Warbeak continued, "Jander squirrel, I know you from old. I knew you when I first started to fly, and when I learned the language of your species. You know me to be telling the truth."

Jander nodded slowly, hesitantly, "Aye, so what's goin' on?"

Warbeak spread a wing from her body, "Abbott Varrus has done terrible things, recently and long past. He has been hiding crimes that have resulted in the deaths of many creatures. Adisa here has vowed to bring him to justice. The old fox is a witness we shall use at the trial, as am I."

Jander looked increduously at the sparrow, "Are you serious? I've known Varrus all my life, and I've never met a kinder and gentler old soul!"

Skipper frowned, "What do you mean, terrible crimes?"

Adisa stepped forward, "My family was wiped out by word of that otter. He ran from justice and has been hiding in Redwall ever since. He must be faced with justice. Mother Sara, Brother Conrad, Foremole, and Vinicio Cellar Hog have all agreed with me on this."

Jander pointed an accusing claw at Adisa, "Ha! Vinicio works in the kitchens! Arly Punto is Cellar Hog!"

Adisa's face darkened, "Arly Punto was murdered by rats hired by Varrus himself."

In all the adventures in the Highlands, in all the fights in the streets, never did Skipper see Jander's face so pale, so devastated, so horrified. The squirrel sank to the ground and wept.

Skipper too, was shocked by the news. But he knew that these creatures must have something to say, if so many powerful figures at Redwall secretly supported them.

He looked from Warbeak, to Jander, to the old fox, and to Adisa, "Tell us everything that has happened since we left."

Warbeak gestured with her wing, "We shall do that. Come with us."

"" "" "" " "" "" "" "" "" "" " "" "" "" "" "" "" ""

Ætharr was weary from his long day. He wanted nothing more than to sleep for twelve hours and not be disturbed by anything.

There were times when being the Ealdor annoyed him considerably, and he would wonder if all Ealdors were like that. Certainly the theigns' lives were not easy, and the old friends Ætharr had known from childhood had all become adults wearied by living life. Ptolemy, Jinn, Horal, Ædall, and even Judos. All of them were settling into their roles, and surely they must be tired at times?

Ætharr lounged on his large chair, eating away at the roast bird in front of him. He sighed to himself as he ate the good food and drank the cool ale from his tankard. It was relieving after working so hard.

Yet for all his weariness, he was proud of himself. He did not need to make these trips around the country: he could be irresponsible and shirk his duties. He was doing his job properly, and was leading his tribe to prosper in plentiful times.

As he thought of that with a sting of happiness electrifying him, he thought of his plans against the Loptrio and Alcax tribes. He wondered if they would be difficult to conquer, but then he smiled as he thought of what would be facing them. They would have to repel not only the Calador fyrd, but the armies of the Hunan, Vireo, Jeri, and Falcarragh. Ætharr would become the most powerful leader in the vermin lands. Then he could set right the wrongs of so many years of violence and death. Vermin would be united in their struggles to live well. This dream would succeed, and Ætharr's name would be worshipped as a god's afterwards.

Ætharr felt a twinge of doubt. Was that not Oorlog's way? And the Millar tribe? No, he thought resolutely, for he was doing it for the greater good, to benefit the vermin as a whole, not just the Calador. He had done great things already and had slain treacherous tyrants for their horrid crimes. He would rise above that level and still become the warlord worthy of Calador legend.

Suddenly, a movement caught his eye, and he looked out of the door.

Rosheen, his wife, was standing on the hill that was the highest point of Æthelly, just outside the hall. She held little Nuala, their daughter, in her arms as she stood still as a statue.

Seeing her, Ætharr felt a warm feeling hit him and he rose from his chair. Heading across the hall, he smiled: his sons were still with Judos, learning to write, read, and know the histories of many different creatures around their own lands. They would grow to be fine warriors, leaders, and would make their father proud.

Gently, Ætharr rested his paws on Rosheen's shoulders as he carefully embraced her. Rosheen turned her head to smile at him, and little Nuala gurgled with delight at the sight of her father.

Tickling his little daughter on her toes, Ætharr thought of what she would be when older: would she marry some wealthy noble or valiant prince of another tribe, and move from her home and family? Would she grow to administer the land when her brothers were off away fighting some war? What would she be?

Rosheen tapped Ætharr on the shoulder, "Watch the sun set, Ætharr."

Ætharr turned to look, and saw the view with a thrill of amazement and fear.

The sky, normally blue, was a dark indigo, and at the horizon, it gave way to a hazy orange shade. At the end of this horizon, the sky was red, and a bright yellow sun was sinking away to surrender the day to night. It was a glorious sight to behold as the sun crept downwards and finally disappeared from sight.

Ætharr smiled: the sun had not been red. All was peaceful for now.

Of course, Ætharr knew that soon the red sun would re-emerge and would hail the bloody ambitions of the Ealdor. The nation of Calador would soon be the greatest tribe to ever stand on a battlefield of the world. And at the head of that army would stand Ætharr of Calador. The Ealdor.

END OF ÆTHARR OF CALADOR BOOK THREE

Stay tuned for the fourth and final book in the series (title to come later).