(Here it is, and I hope it has been worth the wait. Here is the Chapter 9, the first segment of Book 2: A Warrior's Ghost, from "The Warrior's Spirit)
Mother and daughter clung fast to one another, shuddering more with each intense noise that crept into their ears. Joya Humquill stroked her child's headspikes gently, trying to keep the fearful weeping hushed. Nightmarish visions appeared in her mind of what their tormentors would do if they were found. Her husband had gone out to defend their home, and had not returned to them. "What have we done to deserve such dreadful times?" she thought to herself. But corsairs only care about their greed, never caring for the innocent creatures whose blood was spilled to pay for their avarice.
The vermi…Read more >
I first of all want to apologize to my readers who have been waiting for the next chapter of "The Warrior's Spirit." All number of events have come and gone in my life, and I will strive to have the next chapter up by the end of September.
Secondly, the story itself has undergone all number of minute changes due to computer issues. Hopefully, you will be pleased with the events of Ch 9.
Finally, I hope I haven't lost any followers of this story. What with the death of Brian Jacques, it's up to his fans to keep Mossflower Wood, Salamandastron, and the Great Abbey of Redwall alive so future readers do not miss out on the captivating world Brian created.
Eulalia!!!Read more >
Midday shone down on the conflicted land. Like some great chess game in the hands of fate, it was the Red King’s turn to move. With Agrim and two guards flanking him, he had been marching alone for three hours, his army only five minutes silently behind. Though those were the orders, one soldier had special ones. The searat, Lansclaw, had been told in the tent to march a few feet behind, hidden in the woods. His knife, whose handle was scratched with many tally marks, had been sharpened all the morning. Lansclaw knew his task, and was primed to carry it out, with rewards right behind his ire.
Nisac had dressed for the occasion. His armor, like his soul, gave no light. In the sun, the beams seemed to die once they struck the breastplate. He …Read more >
Dawn was nearing, thin streaks of light sneaking to get past the hills. They shone like gold streaks of ribbon on the landscape, when glittering with the morning dew. Even the sky itself, wishing to make the day wondrous, was arranged with an array of violets, blues, and whites. Yet the sun would not let the flower of its light bloom for another half hour. And it was lucky, for it would have seen events which would bring about great sorrow and pain.
Nisac stood outside his tent, having been there all night waiting. His eyes scanned the distance for his hope of a speedy victory. Those hopes came to rest upon a black shadow, coming closer and closer with each wing flap. The great bird, a carrion crow, one of many who would follow the Great Re…Read more >
Wide-eyed, the pups sat on the grass listening to the story of Haeclim’s fight with Largut and his gang.
“Well, little friends, there we were. Walking along, happy as a robin on a sunny day, when what do you think happened? Do you think you know?” They shook their heads like any youngster does when asked about such things. Allowing himself a small amount of pleasure from their faces, he continued, embellishing a few details as he went on.
“Out of the forest came the biggest rat you ever saw. Horrible! Disgustingly fat! Him and twenty other vermin, rotten weasels, rats, stoats, ferrets, you name them, stood right in front of us. You remember don’t you, Oakrudder?” The young otter, who had fought over the shaker, had indeed been present that f…Read more >