The Last Hurrah
Elder Benar told Zarok that that the Abbot would see him this morning, somehow even in his isolation and grief Oz heard and a platoon of his helpers dragged the lizard into a bath! Now he's been deposited in the corridor outside the Abbot's office dressed in what passes as his best.
...Which, for Zarok, is that funny polish stuff that makes his scales gleam like they were lacquered, his bandanna turned inside out on the back of his head, and his necklace of bones, in addition to the usual vest and shorts. He stands sullenly at the door, shuffling from footpaw to footpaw and hissing softly, gazing at each of the helpers balefully in turn, his tongue flickering rapidly.
The door is opened by Lorimis, the eldelry mouse dressed in his deep brown habit, the hood i pushed back exposing his grey head fur and he smiles gently at the little lizard. "Hello Zarok, Benar says you and I need to have a little talk. Come inside."
Zarok pads into the room, a bit nervous, his tail twitching agitatedly as it coils along the floor in his wake. He lowers his gaze and stares curiously up at Lorimis out of the top edge of his vision. He uses his tail to shut the door behind him and he crouches before Lorimis, awaiting judgement.
Lorimis sighs and motion the lizard to one of the comfortable arm chairs by the open windows. "Come and sit down Zarok, would you like some tea? Some fresh fruit juice perhaps?" The elderly mouse wanders over to it down in the largest comfortable chair and waits for the lizard.
Zarok gulps and springs spread-eagled onto the proffered chair, sticking his head out the window like a dog, happily drinking in the fresh air. "You hazzz co'j'l?" he inquires hopefully, looking over his shoulder to stare at the Abbot, his eyes glittering.
Lorimis shake his head and pour a beaker of juice for Zarok, "Do sit down properly Zarok, I know you have been taught the correct poise. Now then, Elder Benar tells me you attacked Jarvis and bit him"
Zarok slides down into his seat properly, his tail draped around the back of the seat and his footpaws swinging, clawtips just barely brushing the floor, evident that he's growing rapidly and well. He takes the beaker and sticks his muzzle in it, slurping it swiftly and then rattling his tongue around the rim of the bottom, hunting the dregs of the sweet, savory liquid. "Thanks 'bb't," he mumbles.
He gulps a few times and sets the beaker aside, sticking it on his tailtip for safekeeping. "Er, 's...zzzzssss...I did."
Lorimis asks, "I see," he puhes his glasses up his nose and peers down at you, "Would you like to tell me why?""
"No," Zarok says, deadpan, returning your gaze without blinking, not that that's saying much as he can't blink anyways. "But lemme guezz--I hafta anyway?"
Lorimis chuckles softly, "I would prefer it if you did yes Zarok, you are getting a little bit old for all this rough housing and fighting."
Zarok twitches a few times. "He inzzulted me. Called me a nofur, called me a monssssster..." Suddenly he gives a plaintive shreik. "Can't 'elp it! 's in my blood! Wazzz _born_ to fight and shred and slash...."
Lorimis raises a hand, "Yes you were Zarok but you don't want to be a monster do you? You do not want to shred and slash and kill other just becaue they called you names." The Abbot regards the monitor with those quiet brown eye, "When someone says such things the civilised response is to ignore them. Responding to their insults makes you no better then them."
"I...I know," Zarok whispers. "But it'z hard to forget...sssssss..." His eyes flash. "Becauzzze if you don't ansssswer them, smash them, break them down...then they're zzztronger than you. And if they are...you deadbeassst."
Lorimis says, "No Zarok, no that is not true. Not here is it, who here in the abbey is going to make you a dead beast just because they say word to you?" The Abbot leans back in his chair, "Do you wish to stay here in Redwall Zarok? To be trained by our Champion to join the guard? Is that still your dream?""
Zarok nods a few times. "Aye, bozz. Ssstill iz. 'coz I'd be good at it. Monitorzzz'r'fighterzz," he declares, racial pride evident in his tone.
Lorimis says, "Indeed they are, but not the sort of fighters the abbey wants. Our guards, our warriors do not kill because they enjoy it. They do not kill becaue it is what they were born to do. Killing is and always must be the last resort of any abbey warrior." he steeples his fingers and looks into Zarok's eyes, "So before you can train to join the guard Zarok, you must show to me that you understand our ways of peace.""
Zarok whines in the back of his throat softly and nods, lowering his head a bit. "Yarr, yarr. I will sssshow you. But remember--" He jabs a claw at the Abbot. "--when thingzz are crazy and blood'zz everywhere...then...it'z different." He seems very assured of this, but then seems to drop the point.
Lorimis asks, "But Zarok, that never happens here does it? Not unless the Abbey is attacked. Out there," he points, "When there are bad beasts on the road trying to burn down our home then... yes thing are different. But you must learn how we live when we are not under-threat. There fore... as of tomorrow you are going to be enrolled in the Abbey School full time, no longer counted amongst the dibbuns. You are large enough and smart enough to begin to learn and only when you have shown to me that you have truly learnt. That your wild impulses are under the control of a well educated young beast trying his best to live the abbey way. Then... will I permit Flicktail to train you.""
Zarok's eyes darken and he almost protests but then with a loud CRUNCH he seals his jaws shut, waiting a few beats before opening them slightly to whisper, "Yarr, Golem!" Unfortunately he's slipping into cavespeak for the moment. "Will be az you zzzzay, bossssss! We leavessss nothing but corp--" He quickly snaps his mouth shut again before anybeast could hear a muffled 'zessss." "Zzzzarok will do it," he says awkwardly after a long pause.
Lorimis sighs and holds out a paw, taking one of Zarok's hands, "I know this is not easy Zarok and you are fighting your instincts but my dear young friend. You mut embrace the peace of Redwall before you can defend it."
Zarok nods, gulping, and intertwines his claws with Lorimis'. "I try my bezt, ssssir--eassssy meanssss it goesss without sssssaying." His eyes glow for a moment with the same pride. "Monitorzzz don't know _how_ to fail. 'specially onesss from tribe Rakthor, zir." He curls his tail around his and the Abbot's clasped paws, a symbolic gesture of acceptance. "I embrace it like it wasss my own nesssstbrother and itsss name was Peace, sssir."
Lorimis smiles warmly and leans forward to kiss the monitor on the fore-head then leans back, "I believe in you Zarok and Benar believes in you. Don't believe his serious face. He loves you very much, like a son. It is why he asked me to talk to you he couldn't bring himself to punish you, not really."
Zarok remains totally still. One-one-thousand, two-one-thousand...FLYING MONITOR AMBUSH NINJA HUG ATTACK! Zarok flies the short distance between the chairs and embraces the Abbot happily. "Yaaaaaaaaaaahooo!" He doesn't need to say any more; his wide, toothy grin, floor-thumping tail, and glowing eyes are all that're needed to show his bliss at Lorimis's words.
Lorimis ooofs a he is knocked back in his chair and laughs warmly, hugging the monitor lizard tightly, "That's our lizard, now you run along and enjoy your last day of being a dibbun. Tomorrow school starts."
Zarok springs to his footpaws, standing at attention stiffly with his tail straight behind him, saluting. "YesZIR!" He charges off with a whoop, grabbing Terfil from where the newt was waiting in the hallway, and the dinosaurian duo rockets off to their last hurrah--Utter mayhem has been unwittingly unleashed upon the Abbey by its wellmeaning warden.
Lorimis leans back and closes his eyes, "Oh dear.... well... time for a Nap, Benar can sort it all out I am sure."
Groups:
