Nodrey

NODREY last updated 4/28/04
chapter one
   The young squirrel stared blankly into the silent and unblinking eyes of her parents. She had been out gathering firewood, and apparently corsairs had raided her peaceful drey when she was gone. Though they hadn't known it, the vermin had good reason to steer clear of the young one. But sometimes vermin aren't that smart. They'd killed the two older squirrels when they'd started to put up a fight, though there were no weapons to speak of in the drey of Jakstone Lann. The young female slumped onto the floor with grief and bewilderment. She'd never really been far from home, just over the hills to the east, collecting wood. Today she'd climbed up one of the trees and fallen asleep. That was when the corsairs paid the family of Lann a visit.
   By midday the young female had buried her parents. As she entered their old home, a simple hut but well-built for shore dwellers, on struts with a woven straw roof. All of the painstaking work put into the comfortable dwelling was ruined now in the work of a few minutes. It held too many memories of before the raid. The young one set fire to its four corners and solemnly watched as the house burned down to the sand. She gathered the ashes and some of the sand they laid upon and poured it over the graves of her parents. Mixing it with the rich soil from the ridge above the shoreline, the squirrel planted a few shore tubers in the bittersweet mix of soil she'd created.
   "No going back now," she told herself, looking at the barren spot on the beach that had been the only place she'd ever known to live. Shouldering her pack, which she had salvaged from the drey before destroying it, she set off down the tideline, watching for any signs of the vermin that killed her mother and father. By dusk she'd fallen asleep, just above the high tideline, out of danger. She knew this much. But she was cold and lonely out in the open. Grasping the nearest thing to her, her empty pack bag, close to her, she thanked the seasons it wasn't winter and cried herself to sleep.

When she woke up, she'd been taken prisoner by three frightening figures. Their faces were daubed shades of red, and they snarled and smiled at her in one breath. They said nothing to her, but she figured out that they were searats, raiding the coastlines and taking oarslaves. Suddenly a giant rat, two times the size of what he should be burst over the dunetop, roaring at the three hapless vermin. "Criknek! Argott! Lubnut! Don't you know we're about to set off? You three will never make it as Rapmarks. Be warned, this is your last warning before you are demoted," he paused for effect, "As low as you can go."
The three weasels took the hint and dashed off, towing the squirrel along with them. "Git dat squirrel in line wit' da others!" yelled Argott as they neared the anchored ships.
As the frst two Rapmarks climbed clumsily up the anchor ropes, Lubnut was stuck tying the young squirrel's paws around her shoulders. It was standard procedure, and it disabled the use of the oarslaves' paws until they were released. Lubnut grabbed clumsily for a length of lumber, laid it along the female's shoulders, then, wrenching her resisting paws up to the branch, lashed them tightly to the dark wood.
The squirrel was not subdued. Sensing inwardly that this was one who had killed her parents sent her into a fury. Jumping up, she laid the weasel low with a double-foot kick, then, as he got up, spun around and cracked the back of his head with the part of the confining wood pawhobble that extended past her shoulder. The weasel crumpled and fell, never to rise again.
By this time, the vermin aboard the ship had noticed her, and began lowering lines and jumping off the ships to mob the young one. "Yah, ya killed the Rapmark, brushtail!"
"I got dibs on that brush o' 'ers, mates! Need a good deck broom, I do!"
"Think ya got somethin' to fight out with the Rapscallions, longtail? We'll soon settle this!" The squirrel was soon surrounded and sore outnumbered by stoats, ferrets, weasels, and all types of vermin. "Haharr, like ta see the color o' yer insides, matey?"
"Halt! I will not have this one killed."
The vermin surrounding the young one quailed slightly at the voice of Uklan, the Firstblade of all Rapscallions. He pointed the two-sided sword, the mark of his rank, at the young one.
"You, what is your name, squirrel?"
The red squirrel never batted an eyelid as she spun around like lightning and knocked the sword from Uklan's gauntleted paw. "Russa Nodrey. Live short an' remember it, vermin!"
Uklan's horde stifled a mass gasp of shock. Uklan himself stepped back a pace and let his killers, spies and bodyguards surround him. "Who all has this one killed?"
"Seven 'scallions an' a Rapmark Cap'n, o Firstblade," reported one of the few searats present who could count properly.
"That is a penalty punished by death. I want all of you to watch the death of Russa Nodrey. Gormad!"
Uklan's hulking son, Gormad Tunn, strode through the ranks to his father's side. "Yes, O Firstblade?"
"Take the sword, my son, for a moment, but do not grow used to it." Gormad eagerly grabbed the shining blade from the sand below. "You know what we say... Travel wither blade goes, anyside the sword shows. Be so kind as to flip the sword to dictate what will happen to young Russa Nodrey. You may yet get your chance to avenge your mates, Rapscallions."
The surrounding Rapscallions began to chuckle as the found out what their Firstblade was planning for the rebellious oarslave. With a quick grin, showing red-painted fangs, and a thoughtless twist of the wrist, Gormad sent the shining blade high into the air. The two sides of land and sea turned so quickly the young one could not see where her fate would land, until it fell limply into the sand at her feet.
chapter two
Russa Nodrey looked at the blade, standing wavy side up in the sand. Moving like lightning, she kicked the sword up into her bound but not useless paw and flung it into the sea. Restraining his protesting and furious son, Firstblade Uklan smiled calmly at the enraged squirrel. Drawing another of his numerous blades, he slashed the ropes that held Russa's paws to her shoulders.   Immediately she swiped out with her claws, going into a crouch.
Uklan was not a fool, nor an inexperienced bully. He easily knocked away the squirrelmaid's claws and stretched his own gauntleted paw out to rest lightly but dangerously on her shoulders, gripping it like death when she tried to wriggle free.
"Archers!" he called over his shoulders. Some of the searats began to shift, anticipating some good sport. "Fire at this one if she shows head above the waves!" Some of the Rapscallions laughed aloud. Looking down to Russa, he smiled again. "Retrieve my blade, squirrelmaid. Don't surface without it. Or else.." He gestured unneccesarily to the rows of enthusiastic vermin with bows lining the beach and decks of the ships.
"I wunder wot a brushtail pincushion looks like, eh Rapcat?"
"Reckon we'll find out soon, cully! Haharr, dive deep, squirrely!"
"Good show, Uklan! Give the old squirrelymaid what for!"
Russa took the opportunity to take a breath as Uklan heaved her into the sea, rising with tide. Opening her eyes wide, the young one searched the floor for the blade and her mind for a plan at the same time. She found the sword easily enough, having swum her entire life in the salty sea outside her old home. She could hold her breath for a long time.
NODREY
chapter one
   The young squirrel stared blankly into the silent and unblinking eyes of her parents. She had been out gathering firewood, and apparently corsairs had raided her peaceful drey when she was gone. Though they hadn't known it, the vermin had good reason to steer clear of the young one. But sometimes vermin aren't that smart. They'd killed the two older squirrels when they'd started to put up a fight, though there were no weapons to speak of in the drey of Jakstone Lann. The young female slumped onto the floor with grief and bewilderment. She'd never really been far from home, just over the hills to the east, collecting wood. Today she'd climbed up one of the trees and fallen asleep. That was when the corsairs paid the family of Lann a visit.
   By midday the young female had buried her parents. As she entered their old home, a simple hut but well-built for shore dwellers, on struts with a woven straw roof. All of the painstaking work put into the comfortable dwelling was ruined now in the work of a few minutes. It held too many memories of before the raid. The young one set fire to its four corners and solemnly watched as the house burned down to the sand. She gathered the ashes and some of the sand they laid upon and poured it over the graves of her parents. Mixing it with the rich soil from the ridge above the shoreline, the squirrel planted a few shore tubers in the bittersweet mix of soil she'd created.
   "No going back now," she told herself, looking at the barren spot on the beach that had been the only place she'd ever known to live. Shouldering her pack, which she had salvaged from the drey before destroying it, she set off down the tideline, watching for any signs of the vermin that killed her mother and father. By dusk she'd fallen asleep, just above the high tideline, out of danger. She knew this much. But she was cold and lonely out in the open. Grasping the nearest thing to her, her empty pack bag, close to her, she thanked the seasons it wasn't winter and cried herself to sleep.

When she woke up, she'd been taken prisoner by three frightening figures. Their faces were daubed shades of red, and they snarled and smiled at her in one breath. They said nothing to her, but she figured out that they were searats, raiding the coastlines and taking oarslaves. Suddenly a giant rat, two times the size of what he should be burst over the dunetop, roaring at the three hapless vermin. "Criknek! Argott! Lubnut! Don't you know we're about to set off? You three will never make it as Rapmarks. Be warned, this is your last warning before you are demoted," he paused for effect, "As low as you can go."
The three weasels took the hint and dashed off, towing the squirrel along with them. "Git dat squirrel in line wit' da others!" yelled Argott as they neared the anchored ships.
As the frst two Rapmarks climbed clumsily up the anchor ropes, Lubnut was stuck tying the young squirrel's paws around her shoulders. It was standard procedure, and it disabled the use of the oarslaves' paws until they were released. Lubnut grabbed clumsily for a length of lumber, laid it along the female's shoulders, then, wrenching her resisting paws up to the branch, lashed them tightly to the dark wood.
The squirrel was not subdued. Sensing inwardly that this was one who had killed her parents sent her into a fury. Jumping up, she laid the weasel low with a double-foot kick, then, as he got up, spun around and cracked the back of his head with the part of the confining wood pawhobble that extended past her shoulder. The weasel crumpled and fell, never to rise again.
By this time, the vermin aboard the ship had noticed her, and began lowering lines and jumping off the ships to mob the young one. "Yah, ya killed the Rapmark, brushtail!"
"I got dibs on that brush o' 'ers, mates! Need a good deck broom, I do!"
"Think ya got somethin' to fight out with the Rapscallions, longtail? We'll soon settle this!" The squirrel was soon surrounded and sore outnumbered by stoats, ferrets, weasels, and all types of vermin. "Haharr, like ta see the color o' yer insides, matey?"
"Halt! I will not have this one killed."
The vermin surrounding the young one quailed slightly at the voice of Uklan, the Firstblade of all Rapscallions. He pointed the two-sided sword, the mark of his rank, at the young one.
"You, what is your name, squirrel?"
The red squirrel never batted an eyelid as she spun around like lightning and knocked the sword from Uklan's gauntleted paw. "Nodrey. Live short an' remember it, vermin!"
Uklan's horde stifled a mass gasp of shock. Uklan himself stepped back a pace and let his killers, spies and bodyguards surround him. "Who all has this one killed?"
"Seven 'scallions an' a Rapmark Cap'n, o Firstblade," reported one of the few searats present who could count properly.
"That is a penalty punished by death. I want all of you to watch the death of Russa Nodrey. Gormad!"
Uklan's hulking son, Gormad Tunn, strode through the ranks to his father's side. "Yes, O Firstblade?"
"Take the sword, my son, for a moment, but do not grow used to it." Gormad eagerly grabbed the shining blade from the sand below. "You know what we say... Travel wither blade goes, anyside the sword shows. Be so kind as to flip the sword to dictate what will happen to young Russa Nodrey. You may yet get your chance to avenge your mates, Rapscallions."
The surrounding Rapscallions began to chuckle as the found out what their Firstblade was planning for the rebellious oarslave. With a quick grin, showing red-painted fangs, and a thoughtless twist of the wrist, Gormad sent the shining blade high into the air. The two sides of land and sea turned so quickly the young one could not see where her fate would land, until it fell limply into the sand at her feet.

chapter two
Russa Nodrey looked at the blade, standing wavy side up in the sand. Moving like lightning, she kicked the sword up into her bound but not useless paw and flung it into the sea. Restraining his protesting and furious son, Firstblade Uklan smiled calmly at the enraged squirrel. Drawing another of his numerous blades, he slashed the ropes that held Russa's paws to her shoulders.   Immediately she swiped out with her claws, going into a crouch.
Uklan was not a fool, nor an inexperienced bully. He easily knocked away the squirrelmaid's claws and stretched his own gauntleted paw out to rest lightly but dangerously on her shoulders, gripping it like death when she tried to wriggle free.
"Archers!" he called over his shoulders. Some of the searats began to shift, anticipating some good sport. "Fire at this one if she shows head above the waves!" Some of the Rapscallions laughed aloud. Looking down to Russa, he smiled again. "Retrieve my blade, squirrelmaid. Don't surface without it. Or else.." He gestured unneccesarily to the rows of enthusiastic vermin with bows lining the beach and decks of the ships.
"I wunder wot a brushtail pincushion looks like, eh Rapcat?"
"Reckon we'll find out soon, cully! Haharr, dive deep, squirrely!"
"Good show, Uklan! Give the old squirrelymaid what for!"
Russa took the opportunity to take a breath as Uklan heaved her into the sea, rising with tide. Opening her eyes wide, the young one searched the floor for the blade and her mind for a plan at the same time. She found the sword easily enough, having swum her entire life in the salty sea outside her old home. She could hold her breath for a long time. Instead of returning to the surface to seek Uklan's mercy, she searched around the shallows for a friend she had met a long time ago...

The vermin hordes had gone silent, eagerly watching the waves for a sign of the squirrelmaid. But she was long in appearing, and some began to speculate on her fate.
"Eh, she's probably gone and drowneded herself in her fear," muttered a snagtoothed weasel.
"You could be right -- little squirrelymaid like that couldn't bear the sight of so many nasty vermin like us," laughed another.
Suddenly there was a gasp. A keeneyed vermin had spotted the sun shining on the Rapscallion blade -- it was pointing out of the ocean and speeding away from shore.
"Wot in hellgates?" muttered Gormad. His father cuffed him across the head.
"Don't be vulgar, Gormad. Intelligence is what separates us from the ranks." Raising his voice, he called aloud to the Rapscallion hordes. "Get a longboat and trail that squirrel... she may be putting up a brave last stand but that's all it is and I'm not going to lose my sword for her heroic shenanigans."
The nearest Rapmark saluted, then scratched his head. "Wot was that again, sir?"
"Go get the sword, you sandsucking scum!" said Gormad in a bored voice. "Why do you make such a big deal out of a stupid squirrel? We've got enough oarslaves, we don't need one that's going to put up this much of a fight," he said to his father.
"That's why I'm in charge, Gormad," muttered the
"Aye!" shouted the Rapmark and jumped to the longboats. Suddenly Uklan had another of his vicious ideas.
"Wait there -- is it Rumbug? -- Extra provisions for you and your crew if you take her alive. I still want to make an example of her... but hurry, she won't last long at this rate."
Food was scarce in the Rapscallion camp. They hurried to comply, taking along a coil of rope and the stave to tie the surely near-dead squirrel to.

Russa watched all this very carefully. For a minute she had thought her lungs would burst, she was underwater so long. But eventually one of the dull-eyed vermin had noticed her trap. Once they were all looking out to sea, she broke the surface gently and took a few quiet, deep breaths. Then she kicked off the side of the Rapscallion ship, where she had been clinging in hiding, and sped towards the longboat.
Latching onto the bottom like a barnacle, she held on tightly as the vermin sped eagerly towards their doom.

Rumbug and his crew had no idea what was coming. "Get that rope ready in a noose, Bagsnout... we're gonna need to tie her up fast or she'll tip the boat over, an' I can't swim."
Bagsnout clumsily complied while his companion, Clamjaw, sneered. "Can't swim, can't fight... how'd you ever become a Rapmark, Rumbug? Oh, that's right... you're a liar and a thief."
Rumbug pretended not to hear -- he had taken credit for his dead brother Rakejit's victory in battle, and become a Rapmark solely on his brother's merit... Clamjaw was also of the opinion that he had killed Rakejit, his best friend. If there was anything he couldn't afford to do, it was to pick a fight with this more experienced fighter out here, with no defense.
Rumbug grew excited. "We're comin' up on 'er now.. haharr, there's no escape for this one. I think I can grab the sword... aurghh!" The Rapmark stared in shock at the stump of his arm, the paw severed by the speedily moving blade. "I'll kill her! I'll kill her myself! Me paw!"
Clamjaw laughed quietly to himself. Unfortunately, Rumbug heard him. "Yer the great swimmer, you jump out there and git her!"
"Why should I do it?"
"Because if you don't, Uklan'll rip you tail to ears."
Clamjaw turned white, knowing the truth in the Rapmark's words. "Hiding behind your buddy agin, eh? Well, we'll see what Uklan has to say when I pull in this squirrel single pawed!" He dove from the boat and landed on what he thought was the squirrel. Unfortunately for Clamjaw, it was not. The young hammerhead shark that Russa had tied the sword to flipped around and tore into his stomach. With one last wail, Clamjaw's head sank beneath the brine.
Rumbug, white with fear, thought about the consequences of returning without the sword. Shark or not, he had to risk it. "Bagsnout, hand me your noos--" The Rapmark stopped dead in the middle of his word, his mouth hanging open. The bloated face of Bagsnout stared at him across the boat and a paw appeared on the dead rat's shoulder.
Russa climbed up the back of the dead rat, took the noose off and stood facing her enemy for just a moment. Then, kicking the body off the boat, she flipped the wooden stave off the floor of the boat and cracked it against the stoat's skull. There was a sickening crunch... then she levered him off the boat and jumped into the water.
The hammerhead was almost whipped into a frenzy, but he would never touch Russa, who had found him and fed him after he escaped from Uklan's collection of tropical slaves a year ago. She stroked his long forehead and untied the sword from his fin. Then, using the shark as a foothold, she jumped back into the boat. The hammerhead's mad energy drove the longboat back to shore as quickly as possible.

Back at the Rapscallion camp, the vermin were struggling to see what was going on.
"Wot's going on?"
"Is that the squiggle?"
"Nah, I think they're fightin' each other. Prob'ly Clamjaw and Rumbug."
Uklan and his son were twice as tall as the rest of the clan, and could see further. The son looked over at the father pointedly, but said nothing, knowing the importance of the matter.
"Aye, that's it," said Uklan, "Rumbug and Clamjaw. I can see 'em from here, throttlin' each other. Oi! I wonder who'll win?"
Gormad shook his head. His father might make a few Rapscallions forget about the squirrel, but when the crew came back, they'd tell the truth.
Suddenly there came a shout from the ship. Some of the rats had climbed up in the riggings to see, and they were yelling back the shocking news. "The squirrel's killed Bagsnout an' she's goin after Rumbug!"
"Wot happened to Clamjaw?"
"A shark et him!"
The previously arrogant vermin stood on the shoreline in almost perfect silence, wondering what this avenging creature would do next.

Revenge had visited the longboat. The bloated corpses of the three dead Rapscallions floated silently in its wake as the hammerhead rammed it towards shore. Russa was sopping wet from her swim, but her eyes burned with an unquenchable fire.
"I wish I could take 'em all, Spliteye. I'd throttle each and every one of the scum."
The shark made no reply, thrashing his tail about faster and faster as he propelled the boat, then suddenly stopped as Russa tapped his fin and lay down in the boat, sensing she was within sight.

Uklan sighed and turned to his son as they watched the squirrel come closer. "Choose your battles carefully, son, you never know which one will lead to your death. Archers! Fire on that boat!"
Thirty-six arrows struck the empty bed of the boat. Russa was long gone, clutching the Firstblade in her teeth and holding tightly to Spliteye's dorsal fin. A volley of curses came from the riggings of the Rapscallion ship as they realized what had happened.
"The squirrel's vanished!"
"She rode a shark into the sunset, holding yer blade, Firstblade, sir!"
Uklan sighed and angrily dug his footclaws into the sand. "This is why you choose your battles carefully, son. Because now we have to go chasing after that squirrel before they start havin' nightmares about her. We should've never come ashore here, dead oarslaves or not."
Gormad was always in a mood to kill, but hardly ever in a mood to hunt. "Why do we have to chase her down?"
"Because, my idiotic offspring, the oarslaves were watching her, as was the entire crew. The crew will be frightened and unable to sleep, and the oarslaves will become hopeful and try to start an uprising. No, the only way to cure this is to kill that squirrel, slowly and painfully."
"Unless she kills you first," muttered Gormad.
"You see? You already are doubting me and making this squirrel out to be some sort of magical creature. Imagine what the horde thinks. No, I will hunt her down, no matter how long we have to stay on land. She can't get far. Rode away on a shark into the sunset... ha!" He raised his voice to reassure the ranks about him. "Nobeast can do that. And if'n the squirrel was magic, she wouldn't've let us tie her up in the first place! No, no. She's just a fiery one. But we've got ways of fixin' that," he added with a sinister chuckle.
The horde was slow to join in. Uklan knew he was on perilous ground with the supersticious bunch. He tried carefully to win them over. "An' if she was magic, didn't help her bleedin'! Tell you what, tonight everyone hunker down early ... tomorrow I'll show you the color of her insides meself! I swear by all that is bad'n'rotten, she'll beg fer mercy before the end. No bad spells or evil squirrels will trouble this bunch! Break out the kegs! We'll scare her off!"
"They've all been too long at sea, you included," Gormad told his father. "It does things to a rat's mind! They wouldn't be so stupid if they'd been out here, seein' creatures and feelin' solid earth beneath their paws, the last five years."
"Just because you're no searat, doesn't mean we should stay on land all the time! Anyway the blade goes! Tis yer own bad luck. And if you don't stop antagonizing me crew," he added in an undertone, "I'll persuade them 'twas you that brought the evil squirrel upon us!"
Gormad glared angrily at his father but said nothing else, knowing what the Greatrat was capable of.

The night was quieter for some than for others in the Rapscallion camp. Russa took the blade and the wooden stave and quietly entered the camp. She knocked out the sentries around the camp with her stave, knowing that Gormad would kill them. Then she slowly made her rounds, carefully examining each rat as they lay uncovered on the ground. The image of her captors was still fresh in her mind -- she killed each and every one that had seen her up close with one swift and deadly stroke of the Rapscallion blade.
Finally she came to the tent of Uklan and Gormad. Silently dispatching of the sentries, she walked in and took her revenge. Then she was gone, with no plans to return.

Gormad Tunn awoke the next morning late, because his father often woke him up. Yawning and glancing over, he saw his father's glazed eyes. Startled, he looked up and saw the Rapscallion blade buried in his heart.
The Greatrat had little remorse for his only family, but immediately began thinking of a story to tell the horde. He had one almost immediately, and stepped out of the tent, only to trip over the bodies of the dead sentries. A Rapmark saluted him.
"We found those two asleep on duty, sir, and only just now killed them. I'm terribly sorry, I'll get them out of your way."
"No need," said Gormad in a grand voice. "In fact, call the assembly. Theirs are not the only deaths this night." With his formidable stren