Doomwyte

“Birdsssss! Sssso many birdsssssss!”

The raven was distinctly nervous, he chattered, “Yakkarraah! Nobeast can pass into my caves!”

The giant viper withdrew slightly, coiling at the bottom of the birch, his milky, sightless eyes pointed at the spot where the raven’s voice had issued from. “Why doesss the mighty Sssskurr ssseek Balissssss?”

The raven regained his composure. “Hayaah! Come, and I will tell you!”

Launching himself from the tree, Korvus Skurr soared away, flapping noisily, so that the adder could track his movement. When he was sufficiently out of earshot, Korvus swooped down into the fork of an elm, waiting until Baliss arrived. Not wanting to linger with the fearsome snake, he came straight to the point.

“Arrakaa! Those earthcrawlers in the Redstone house need to fear my name. They must know Baliss is with me, they will learn the meaning of terror. You can do this.”

The reptile’s head swayed back and forth. “Balisssss knowssss all creaturessss fear him, even the great Ssssskurr. But why do you do me thisss honour, what isss my reward to be?”

Korvus cocked his head from right to left, as if he feared being overheard. He lowered his voice. “Arrah! When the Eyes of the Doomwyte return to their rightful place, you will be rewarded. I will command my carrion birds to drive out every reptile from my caves. Frogs, toads, lizards, slow worms and grass snakes. They will be yours to treat as you please.”

Baliss coiled and uncoiled languidly, a sign that he might be pleased with such an arrangement. “Thesssse reptilessss, what are their numberssss?”

Korvus Skurr spread his wings wide. “Yahaarr! Like the leaves which grow on the trees!”

The monstrous snake glided slowly off, his final words causing the raven to shudder. “Remember thisss: If you play me falssse, Balissss can make your death lassst half a sssseasssson!”

Not since the great snake Asmodeus had there been a serpent so feared in all Mossflower. Long seasons had done nothing to affect the huge reptile’s power, speed or venom. Moreover, the blindness that had been visited on Baliss had only served to enhance all the snake’s other sensory skills. In short, it created a creature that was totally fearless and fearsome, with no natural enemies, only victims.

Korvus Skurr was well satisfied with his plan. He flew off, back to his netherworld of caves, ignorant of one puny smoothsnake. It had lain coiled above his head, disguised by the billowing foliage of the stately elm tree. As soon as Korvus winged away, the little snake began her slithering descent from the elm trunk. Sicariss was no mere head ornament—she, too, had her eyes and ears in the strangest of places.

Other eyes had also witnessed what took place outside the caverns. High on the hillside, the dark beast saw it all. The mysterious watcher drew a strange sword slowly back and forth over a whetsone slab. Little did Korvus Skurr or his scheming smoothsnake know that they were being observed by a creature who was planning their destruction, no matter how long it took. The double-bladed sword hissed softly as it was drawn over the whetstone, sharp and dangerous as the fangs of any reptile, when held in the paws of the dark avenger.

Tarul the raven Wyte had stayed concealed in the Belltower of Redwall Abbey. Stubborn determination kept him there; he had sworn to himself not to leave the Redbrick house without taking with him a prisoner. One of the small earthcrawlers they called Dibbun. But things had not gone well from the start.

First there had been the rain, when hardly anybeast stirred out of doors. His spirits brightened with the arrival of fair weather. However, he soon found himself out of position, isolated in the Belltower, whilst the Dibbuns played, either in the orchard, by the pond or near the Gatehouse. They were generally well watched also.

This Belltower was not a good place, Tarul thought to himself. At least four times daily he had to cower in the furthest corner, with his head tucked tight beneath one wing. This was because of the burly hedgehog called Spikkle. At set intervals he would come in to ring the twin bells, at midnight, dawn, high noon and sunset. For a long time after each session of peals, the Raven Wyte’s head would resound with bell echoes.

But that was not all. It was hunger and thirst which beset Tarul most of all. Once he had been about to sample the fruits of the orchard, when he spied the long-eared one strolling in the grounds. Tarul feared him greatly, having seen the damage he could wreak with his strange weapon, which fired sharp, metal sticks.

So he remained in the Belltower, growing gaunt with starvation, and ill with headaches, but still foolishly obstinate. Thinking of the praise he would gain, from being the most daring of Wytes.