De’Weeasell Parishshirelot – Chapter One

&

I have to apologize for the hiatus. I'm an agonizingly slow updater, but this was beyond that. If you want to throw rotten tomatoes, I suppose you're justified... *cleans shield*

---

Having forgotten the disclaimer before, I’ll say this: Redwall is the property of Brian Jacques; I am making no profit off this work of lunacy. Any resemblance to any actual Sues or Stus, living or slain, is purely coincidental. And the name 'Erzsebet' belongs to Countess Bathory... not that psychotic Romanian noblewoman who's been dead a few hundered years can file a lawsuit.

&

“Your subject now calls ‘erself Atarianna Sliverfangs Jetclaw Gliffielenne,” the ferret Captain Wallin, senior Sue Slayer at Fort Clove informed Kaydin Losshow, somehow doing so without stumbling once over the convoluted excuse for a name.

Kaydin winced, slouching back in her seat gracelessly and crossing her long legs. “Poor Fin,” the hare said, more because she felt obligated than because she felt any emotion. She didn’t notice the narrow-eyed glance her superior shot her. The female weasel Rem Gliffin, or ‘Fin’ had been her partner and a capable Slayer back in the day.

So much for that, she thought.

It had been a mission to slay DewallioSlav-whatshisfacewhile he was out of his stronghold that had gone horriblywrong. They had trailed him from the gate of his castle to more remote regions, believing they had gone unnoticed for the amount of garlic they’d worn and eaten. But the Stu’s ability turned out to be more than they’d bargained for. He had known exactly where they were. How, she couldn’t begin to imagine.

Kay cringed at the memory.

They had been trapped. Kaydin had gotten away, but Fin had not. As Sues and Stus often did, Dewallio had fallen head-over-heels for Fin at first sight, and the moment he touched her she’d fallen, writhing, to the ground in the process of turning. Even her clothes and weapons had not escaped being Sue-ified. Kaydin had gotten over it—but it was still a gruesome memory.

Kay had been on detention for three seasons as punishment for leaving Fin behind—a world of washing dishes and smearing gear with garlic oil.

Wallin slapped a large, bulging envelope down on the table before her. Her slightly graying, nicked ears flipped forward as her attention snapped back to the present.

“The Sue has taken over the Dewallio Slavuffinn… you-know-the-rest’s castle and driven him out of it.” Even Wallinbalked at going through the whole name. “I want you to do whatever you can to get to ‘er. Lure ‘er out if you poss’bly can.”

“Ya’ think I c’n do this, eh?” Kaydin asked amusedly. “Yer’ sure it isn’t a conflict o’ interest, Wall-me-Cap?”

The ferret outwardly ignored the handle, but she knew it irritated him. He cocked an eyebrow. “For you?”

She bristled at the implication, which he and others had made much less subtly before. “What’re you insinuatin’, sah?”

He looked at her flatly. “Nothin’ that you’re not ar’eady aware of, Losshow. Go through the file wid’ your partner. It’s got the mission stats in it.”

She glowered but knew better than to press the issue. She pushed and needled her commanding officer more than most beasts would dare but knew where the limits were. Obviously he wasn’t in the mood to put up with it today.

“Don’t put your partner at more risk than necessary. If you come back without her this time you c’n say g’bye to field work for good.” Temper scalded her belly at these words.

“Right, sah,” she said stiffly. “We’ll report ‘afore we leave. A good mornin’ ta’ you.” She stood, feeling the slight creak of her joints. She snapped up the file, saluted withherfree paw and stepped out of the chamber into the bustling underground corridor. Like all Sue Slayer bases, the place smelled so heavily of garlic that newcomers often vomited upon entering. It had never bothered Kay very much.

She dodged a hedgehog pushing a cart laden with a large pot of garlic, hotroot and water shrimp stew as she passed between the doors of the kitchen and mess hall, trying to ignore the way her stomach growled at the smell.

For what was probably the millionth time in her life she questioned the sanity of whatever beast decided to put a major corridor between the kitchen and mess hall. Thinking twice, she snagged a scone off an unattended tray.

So, to find the fox. Kaydin did have a pretty good idea of where to look for her recently-appointed partner, Erzsebet (she thought her parents must have had a sense of humor) Wardmack. She hated being paired with a newbie, though she recognized that her experience would make up for what the other Slayer lacked.

That being said, the vixen’s brutal conduct paired with her naiveté rubbed her the wrong way.

&

Saff skitteredaround a patch of bright, silver moonlight, trying to stay in the shadows. “Susies’re gonna’ be out tonight,” he muttered. It seemed like it was nearly always either a full moon or a new moon at night.

It was one of those picturesque nights that had become so common since the Sues and Stus had arrived. Bright, velveteen, starry skies, full round moon that seemed to smile down at you, night birds singing away. When you weren’t under some kind of cover it was bright enough that you could usually see anybeast around you.

And yet he had still managed to lose Ci. Or she had (intentionally) lost him.

That thought irked him. And unless you happened to be a Sue, the excellent visibility was a double edged sword. Double edged sword. He had never really understood that term. A double edged sword was a useful thing, in his experience; even through he didn’t have one. It had advantages over a single edged one. Better for stabbing and things.

He was yanked out of his off-topic train of thought by a trilling, elegant, feminine voice with an overdone archaic accent.

“Halt now here, ye who walks now in the night, who goes?”

He froze, eyes huge. Susies’re gonna’ be out tonight….He looked over hisshoulder seeing the glimmer of a silver pelt. Jewels sparkled on a flowy, sheer white gown struck by the moonlight, and an ethereal, slender, petite squirrel maiden with delicate features and soft, humongous orbs that were black as (what else) a moonless night stepped out of the darkness.

The Sue held out a silver bladed cup hilt rapier with a huge diamond for a pommel and lots of flowing engraving, her bushy, lustrous, opalescent white tail flicking back and forth.

Uh oh, was the only thought that went through his mind. He tried to stave off a stupefied feeling at the sight of her. This was definitely bad. Where was that stoat when he needed her? He snorted slightly, Arrogant, selfish—

“I’d asked ye who goes!”

This time the Sue’s voice sent a tingling sensation up his spine. He fumbled for something to buy him some time. He knew that as long as he was alone, if he drew his sword now he’d be dead before he could use it. “Uhm…. Just a wayward traveler, good lady, lost in the woods.” He deliberately moved his elbow to hide the Fort Prose badge clipped on his belt.

The Sue lowered her sword and sheathed it at her hip. Hold on, sheathed it? There wasn’t a scabbard there. Not even a hook. He didn’t know why he found that odd. Honestly…. “I be regretful for shouting upon thee, but one maiden canst nae be too-ist careful-ist in these-ith parts-ith. Ah, gentle sir, I see thy trouble. To whence doth thou be bound? I shall direct-ith thee to there.”

He should have flinched at the accent and the wordy, ungrammatical dialogue, but for some reason it was sweet and alluring to his ears.

“I’m actually… a wand’rer. I’ve got no destination but here an’ there,” that sounded lame, but he hoped the Sue would buy it. Apparently she did, and he wondered if he was giving them too much credit. Ciyen had told him he did, in none too kind terms. Insulting beast….

“If ye wouldst it like-ist, ye may-est come with myself on mine own journey.”

The Sue gave a brilliant, encouraging smile that seemed to light up the woodland.

He was drawn in by it. “Yeah…” he breathed, goggling at her. She’s… enthralling, he thought, pinning her with a word whose meaning he was unsure of and that he’d never used before but sounded like it fit. Dazzling. Another part of his brain stood back in utter disgust.

“I’d truly love to, fair lady.” Where the heck had that come from?

“Oh, excellent!” The Sue’s smile grew, prompting a silly grin to spread over his face even as he was blinking spots from her bright smile out of his eyes.

“What’s yer name, O Lady?”

“It be-ith Silveria Eskya D’cheserae, but ye, mine friend, may-est call-ithmineself Luna—I was so called by mine dear, beloved brother, W’santo Valin Sayroww, for mine moon-touch-ed fur.” Tears beaded on her long, silky, thick black lashes and one slipped down her cherubic cheek, looking like a silvery diamond.

“He t’was slain in pitch battle by treachery, due to the paw of his nemesis, Lord Ravvaro Shaeinan El-Quar Dolemain, Ruler of Castle Dolemain. Now he is mine nemesis, as he was mine brother’s. Bear witness as I vow to you that I shalt slay-ith him if it is the last-ith thing-ith I doth ever accomplish...... ith.” She snarled the string of names, her humongous black orbs hardening to jet.

By now his thought process had slowed to the consistency of syrup. He felt a corresponding stab of pity and anger for the beautiful maiden who had lost her beloved brother…. That one little sane part drummed its fists against the rest of the stuff in his head, screaming bloody murder.

Luna seemed to calm down to a dewy-eyed attitude of sorrow. “Twas’ be-ith yename, O wanderer?”

He translated that as ‘What’s your name?’ “Mine—eh, my name is Saffendrew.”

He was normally catastrophically embarrassed by his full name and always introduced himself by the shortened version, but he suddenly felt an absurd sense of pride about it.

“Tha’ tis a fine name,” she said with another sickeningly sweet smile that set his heart aflutter.

Tap.

He didn’t hear the noise at first.

Tap, tap.

His ear flickered as he caught it.

Tap, tap, tap, tap.

It grew more insistent.

Thock!

He jumped as something bounced off the back of his head. What? He thought thickly, the impact having cut through the fog. Luna looked around, seeming slightly alarmed. Her rapier was suddenly in her dainty, delicate little smoky-pearl-colored paw for no good reason—she hadn’t moved to draw it.

“Who go-ith?” she cried.

&

Ciyen parted a fern and dropped her pawful of acorns. She couldn’t believe—well, actually she could believe it—that she had had to actually hit Saff in the head with one to get his attention.

At the Sue’s exclamation she ducked her head and put her paw on the hilt of her sword. In the time since she had left him (mostly to blow off steam) she hadn’t been far away—within shouting distance and sometimes within sight—though he probably hadn’t seen her. Other than that one time she went on to scout ahead. Coming back to find him oogling at a silvery squirrel-Sue with a smitten look on his face had been a nasty surprise.

She hadn’t been gone all that long, yet he had managed to be cornered by that—that—That. It was probably one of those Sues with the Power of Seduction, or some other such crap.

Bloody rookies, she thought, ignoring the fact that he probably wouldn’t have been in such a position in the first place if she hadn’t left him alone.

She held absolutely still, holding her breath. The Sue took a fluid step toward the bush she was hiding behind. Ci realized she had to make a move now or she would be in big trouble. She wrapped her paws around the hilt and upper scabbard of her sword. She pulled it out slowly, muffling the scrape of steel on leather with one claw.

Here goes nothing.... Saff had better appreciate her for this.

The stoat burst out of the bushes as fast as her legs could carry her and dived toward the Sue. The rapier blade rang as it locked with hers, carving a chip out of the broadsword. Ci staggered back, managing to block the other blade when it whistled towards her.

“You would-st attack-ist mineself without provocation? Thee be-ist true ver-mine!”

Ci snorted and disentangled her sword. The next thing she knew the freakishly tough rapier had been whipped back and toward her again, clipping a whisker off her snout. She flinched and hacked at the Sue’s side, only to be expertly parried. She swiped at her footpaws; the Sue leapt over her sword withgrace and poise that seemed rather ridiculous in the middle of a sword fight, doing a spectacular somersault in mid air.

She next was barely able to counter a strike at her head. Ciyen found herself being blocked again and again, strategy after strategy.

“A little ‘elp?” she huffed as she was shoved backwards in Saff’s direction, nearly going head over tail.

The Sue leaned delicately on her blade, waiting for her to regain her balance, in typical ‘honorable’ Sue-form. One would wonder why it didn’t bend in the slightest under her weight. Perhaps it was because she was light as a feather.

The squirrel stared at her as if she’d grown an extra ear. Her paw darted out and whacked him on the side of the head.

“Ow! What were that for?”

Ci didn’t get a chance to answer.

“Ye struck-ith mine friend, vermin! I gave-ith theetime to recover. Come-ith here-ith and fight! Unless be ye to cowardly to so do!”

She looked back at ‘Luna’ and pulled a face. “He’s my partner, not yer friend, Sue.”

A flame of ruby-red anger lit in the deepest, darkest depths of the Sue’s black orbs. It looked like you might get a second or third degree burn if you tried to touch them. “I be-ith no Sue! And he doth be-ith mine-ith friend…ith!”

“Nobeast but a Sue would say somethin’ like, ‘I be-ith no Sue.”

“I be-ith Silveria Eskya D’cheserae, Serene Warrioress of Wellithia, Via Princessa of the Eastern Silverpine Forest, Survivor of the Massacre of Clan Archaedea, Sole Survivor upon-ith the death of mine brother W’santo Valin Sayroww! I am no Sue-beast. They be-ith icky. Now fear-ith, fear-ith of mine blade most noble!”

The stoat couldn’t help a snigger that turned into loud, side-gripping, cheek-hurting laughter.

At first the Sue stared with a gob-smacked expression, but soon she was advancing, her eyes now completely red. Ci stiffled her giggles, wondering if all that laughter had been a bad move.

What ensued was a mad hacking contest. Honestly, could it have gone any other way? (Though, of course, Lovely Luna’s movements remained as graceful as a cat’s even in the throes of Bludrath. [Why is it that everybeast and his uncle's frog has it these days?])

The opponents battled back and forth, back and forth back and forth…et cetera.

Ci caught her second wind and (never one for delicate sword work) slashed at the Sue’s body again and again. Though she was smoothly dodged and parried, she droveLuna straight back several paces before she could start up her own offensive again. The Sue slipped sideways and delicately clipped under the stoat’s guard.

Ciyen dipped her sword, barely in time deflect it. An instant later the Sue-sword plummeted toward her shoulder; she leapt aside and slashed the silvery furred, slender calf mid jump. Surprisingly, the Sue couldn’t parry in time and Ci’s blade skimmed her. The Sue shrieked, stumbled and recovered, but there was no sizzle.

Before that registered to Ciyen, Luna hacked at her neck; the stoat dived and rolled over as her opponent’s sword whipped the ground dangerously close to her abdomen. There was a sudden shout from behind that seemed to stop the Sue momentarily. Ci’s breathing rasped.

“T’what doth ye say-ith, Friend Saffendrew?”

The Sue suddenly dropped like a stone. Saff stood behind where she had stood with his smallsword in the air with its light three-edged blade pointed up, because he had struck her on the back of the head. He looked more shaken than she felt, which was saying something.

She laid there gasping until she caught her breath and rolled to her footpaws. She pried the Sue’s rapier out of her dainty paw and picked it up by the diamond pommel, holding it between thumb and foreclaw as if it carried dryditch fever.

Saff was staring down at Luna. “Uh…”

Ci looked up at the treetops, trying to convince herself to muster the will to thank him. She cleared her throat, opened her mouth, closed it again, and finally said, “Eh, thanks.”

“Uh huh,” he mumbled.

Something she had heard twice suddenly occurred to Ci. A slow smile spread across her face. She looked straight at him, barely trying to disguise the glee in her voice.

“Saffendrew?”

He visibly blanched, than his ears turned red. “Don’t say it! Just don’t say it. I don’t—”

“Saffendrew, Saffendrew, Saffendrew,” she grinned widely. “I like the sound of that! Maybe I should start callin’ you by that from now on. Doncha’ think so?”

“No!”

“'Iya, Saffendrew. Wanna’ go kill a Mary Sue?” she chortled at the raging blush on her comrade’s face. Oh yes, she could have fun with this. Oh how the tables had turned. “You know, it sounds sorta’ Sueish. Saff-en-drew. Does that end in a W or a U?”

“It’s not Sueish!” he cried indignantly, seeming to regain his nerve. “Don’t forget what I got on you, Ciyen! You wouldn’t want me ta’ tell Sergeant Macintosh ‘bout Gilly and Jimmig and the crossbow when we get back ‘ome, would ya’?”

She glared at him for the reminder of one of her recruit-days misdeeds, knowing that Macintosh would have her hide if he knew who was responsible for that little fiasco, regardless of how many seasons it had been since then. After all, a crossbow quartle in the tail could not be easily forgiven... the big mountain hare had been laid up in the infirmary for weeks; something he had not taken kindly to.

If looks could kill, Saff would have been rotting on the ground. “You wouldn’t. You do not wanna’ do that.”

“If you tell ‘em ‘bout my name, I will.”

She admired her notched but razor sharp sword pointedly before sheathing it. “You wanna’ lose somethin’? Like maybe a tail?”

He crossed his arms and snorted, tail flicking back and forth. “Blusterer. If you ever cut my tail off the Major’d have ya’ on dish duty for the rest of your bloody life. Even if ‘e wouldn’t, you couldn’t never go through wid’ it.”

“Ha! You wouldn’t wanna’ bet on…” Ever the first to abandon an argument, she cut off in the middle of her sentence. “Saff.”

“What?”

She pointed to the Luna, who she had noticed was beginning to stir. “Take this, quick,” she pushed the Sue-sword at him and crouched over Susie-Squirrel. Ci pulled a length of twine out of her satchel and quickly lashed her paws together by the wrists. Luna started struggling against the bonds.

“Hey!” she whined—whined?—as the stoat twisted her arm and looked with big, gooey black eyes at her leg, which was bleeding what actually appeared to be not bright, sparkly Sue-blood, but normal, run of the mill, sticky, brackish blood. “That hurts!”

“Tough, ‘cause it’s…” Ci trailed off as she realized the ridiculous, exaggerated archaic accent had been dropped. “Wha’d you just say, Sue?”

“I told—I told-ith ye I’m no Sue! Let go! Or… or I’ll throw—I mean, throw-ith ye off-ith.”

&

To be continued…