The slender, young badgermaid turned toward him, she saw the starlight reflected in his huge, dark eyes. "It must have been very hard for you. Did you ever get angry about your lot, stranded there with your aged grandparents? Tell me, were you aware of the Bloodwrath?"
Gorath passed a paw over the scarlet wound on his brow. "Not really, but looking back on things, I know that my grandfather could see the Bloodwrath in me. He never spoke of it, but he knew, I realise that now."
Salixa frowned thoughtfully. "How so?"
Gorath explained, "When Grandfather was still able to work, we toiled side by side, getting the earth ready to plant crops. Often we would come across a big boulder, or an old tree, barring our progress. We'd try together to move the boulder, or uproot the tree. When we failed, Grandfather would stop work and sit down, then he'd say, 'It's too much for a young one and an oldster, but your father could have done it alone. Aye, he'd get into a temper with that boulder, or that tree, he'd shout Eulalia at it, and kick the thing with his paws. Go on, young one, give it a try' So I did."
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The badgermaid continued questioning. "What happened?"
The big, young badger flexed his mighty paws as he recalled the incident. "The first time it was a rock, a huge granite boulder, half-buried in the frozen earth. I shouted Eulalia at it until I was roaring, I struck the bare rock with my clenched paws. I didn't feel any pain, just a mighty surge of power building within me. My chest was heaving as I sucked in huge gasps of air. Suddenly I was yelling, panting and seeing the boulder through a red mist. I flung myself upon it, thrusting both paws deep into the soil either side of the stone. Grandfather told me later that I plucked that rock from the earth, as easy as if I were lifting a babe from its cradle. I lifted it and flung it from me. Either I passed out after that, or fell asleep, but I couldn't remember anything, except what Grandfather told me. I uprooted trees in the same way. I became bigger and stronger, my muscles grew hard."
Salixa picked up one of his hefty paws, she studied the tracery of old scars crisscrossing the pad. "So your grandfather goaded you into Bloodwrath to get the heavy work done. That was so unfair."
Gorath smiled. "That's what Grandma used to say to him, she said he was making me into a Berserker, who would die just as my father had. But it never bothered me then, I did the work of three badgers. Often I enjoyed the feeling, the rage and power, the knowledge that nothing could withstand my wild strength."
Gorath could see Salixa beginning to wince, he had unconsciously tightened his grip on her paw. Embarrassed, he quickly released her, changing the subject. "Enough about me. What about you? I'll wager you can sing."
She nodded. "I like to sing, but quietly, to myself. Sometimes I have sung for the Tabura, he enjoys my voice. Would you like me to sing for you?"
Gorath closed his eyes, afraid to look her way. "I could think of nothing I'd like better."
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Everybeast heard the plaintive sweet voice, which, though gentle, seemed to radiate around the plateau.
"Let me wander here forever, through the glades where once I played,
Long ago in carefree seasons, mid the noontide sun and shade.
I will see again before me, all those smiling friends I knew, gone alas to memory's keeping, faithful comrades good and true.
Oh, those days of youth and splendour, when we dreamed of glorious war, vows were made to keep forever, and return back here once more.
Then the clouds began to gather, winter came, we marched away, singing songs of love and valour, off we went into the fray.
Comes a warrior returning, to old autumn's gold-clad trees, where the leaves do fall like teardrops, on the gently sighing breeze.
Casting sword and shield aside now, I stand weary and forlorn, in the silence of the woodlands, I will rest until the dawn.
Let me sleep and dream forever, of the golden days of yore, and those friends who marched off with me, who'll return alas no more."
Gorath opened his eyes. Gazing into the embers of the fire, he murmured, "I've never heard a song so sad and beautiful, where did you learn it?"
Drawing her cloak closer, Salixa lay down to rest. "The
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Tabura taught it to me, he said it was something he had written a long time ago."
Gorath closed his eyes again. "Your Tabura is a wise and wonderful creature. I would like to spend some time with him--say, a few seasons. I'm sure he would have much to teach me."
The badgermaid paused before speaking again. "He was only my Tabura for a certain time. Now I will never see him again, and nor will you, friend."
Gorath was mystified. "How do you know this?"
Salixa replied, "Because he told me that the parting of our ways would come when we reached Redwall Abbey. I was sad at first, but the Tabura explained. He said that he had taught me many things, now it was my turn to go out into the world, to teach and help others. He also knew you and I would meet on the western plain, not far from Red-wall, because we were destined to travel together, while he lived out his days at the Abbey. Now I know what he meant, I am sad no longer. I have you to look after. Sleep now, Gorath the Flame."
Gorath obeyed her. He did not know what to think, he was happy, quite puzzled, but certain he would never leave Salixa's side. They both slept then, the badgermaid to her own dreams and Gorath to his. Visions of heroic and wise warriors visited them both as they dwelt in the Halls of Slumber. Martin the Redwall Abbey Warrior, the Tabura, Lord Asheye and one whom Gorath recognised as his long-dead father. Each had their own special message to impart to the young badgers, each had a different instruction for Salixa and Gorath.
Maudie found she could not sleep, the feeling of impending battle on the morrow hung over her. Also, sleep was out of the question with Rangval close by, snoring like two wild hogs guzzling soup. She went and relieved a couple of Guosim sentries at the plateau rim, where she was
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joined by Barbowla's sturdy wife, Kachooch. The otterwife winked at her knowingly.
"For somebeasts like us, sleep's hard t'come by on a night like this, Miz Maudie."
The haremaid nodded. "Indeed it is, marm, an' twice as hard with a rogue squirrel snorin' nearby."
Kachooch chuckled quietly. "Aye, an' maybe thrice as hard bein' surrounded by shrews with growly stummicks. I thought the battle had already started with all the noise that gang was makin'. Have ye been in many battles afore, Maudie?"
Keeping her gaze on the glow from the distant camp-fires, Maudie answered, "Oh, one or two y'know, pretty difficult to avoid skirmishin' bein' a fightin' hare o' the Long Patrol. Tell me, marm, d'you think those vermin fires are beginnin' to die down, or are they still as bright?"
The otterwife peered hard at the distant glow. "I'd say they've died down a mite, why d'ye ask?"
Maudie explained, "If the fires are allowed t'burn low, that usually means the vermin are sleepin'. But if they burn fresh'n'bright, that means they're jolly well up to some mischief."
Kachooch scratched her rudder. "What sort o' mischief?"
It was the haremaid's turn to wink at the otterwife. "It's an old trick, marm, pretty stupid one if you ask me. If the rascals want to sneak up an' ambush us in the dark, they always leave a couple of vermin behind, to keep the fires burnin' bright. Just so we'll think they're still in camp."
The otterwife was puzzled. "Doesn't sound too stupid t'me."
Maudie tapped the side of her head. "Think. Who'd stay awake on a summer night, to pile wood on fires? Wouldn't it be more sensible to sleep before the battle, like our chaps are doin' right now?"
Kachooch grinned. "Yore right, of course, but if'n 'tis more sensible t'sleep, why are we sittin' here wide awake?"