"Scourge of the seas"
A continuation of Brian Jacques book "Pearls of Lutra"
Ever since Tansy had become Mother Abbess of Redwall Abbey, Old Rollo the Recorder found great pleasure in sitting out on the wall tops looking out over the great western plains. Tonight especially, for it was warm and tranquil with only the sound of the cooks in the Abbey kitchens to disturb the silence. A light breeze ruffled the old bank vole's fur as he thought to himself. The Abbess had given him the honor of providing the name for the season, for the name day feast was to be held tomorrow. While most beasts in the Abbey were sound asleep, the cooks and helpers were in the kitchens preparing for the feast. Rollo could smell the aroma of fresh pies and bread wafting from the open kitchen window where they sat to cool. The bells could be heard softly tolling the midnight hour as Rollo shuffled back to the gate house, where he knew Wullger would be waiting.
Down in the kitchens Friar Harold was helping Skipper to make a pot of shrimp and hotroot soup.
"No! Don't put that much hotroot in the soup! You'll slay all of us with that much!" The Friar huffed angrily at the big otter.
"Easy there mate, I know how to make shrimp 'n hotroot soup. And if ye don't put enough hotroot in it, it's bland as water," he said "And I don't know about you mate, but shrimp 'n water soup don't sound as good, now, does it?"
"Huh, I guess you're right Skip, but still we might need to get Higgle to tap a few more casks of cider, seeing how spicy that soup is now. I'll get Arven to go tell Higgle"
"Shouldn't we take the Great Hall cake from the oven now?" Skipper asked.
"Ah, yes, I nearly forgot all about that cake," the Friar said as he walked away to remove the Great hall cake from the oven.
"I'll help you with that, 'cause its probably bigger 'n you now Friar" Skipper laughed as he walked of to join the friar.
Abbess Tansy came in and sleepily walked over to Craklyn. "What are you doing up so early? Shouldn't you still be in bed?" Tansy asked
"You look like you should too Mother Abbess," The squirrel said, "But if you'd like to know, I'm helping Friar Harold to prepare for the feast"
"Oh, have you seen Martin lately? He seems to be missing."
Craklyn rolled some dough and placed and placed it in the oven. "Yes, he's out fishing on the Abbey pond with Clecky; they said they were going to catch a carp. But Rollo said that the last time a carp was caught at Redwall was back in the time of Abbot Mordalfus during the summer of the Golden Plain." Craklyn replied.
Tansy leaned on the doorframe. "Fishing? At this hour? What would drive them to do that?" She asked.
"I'm not too sure, but the Friar is determined to have a carp for the feast. You know how stubborn he can be."
"Yes, I do. But tell Martin I'd like to have a talk with him when he comes back"
"Certainly, Ill tell him."
"Thank you very much. I'm off back to bed; it's too early for me." Tansy said.
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Three large sailing ships accompanied by an armada of smaller ones appeared out of the morning mists about a league or two North of the mountain stronghold of Salamandastron. Without any sound the ships dropped anchor and furled the sails. The distant form of Salamandastron could be seen rising out of the mists to the South. Of the ships the middle one was by far the largest. The Deathbringer was a ship that would strike terror into the heart of all who sawit. With red-dyed sails, and blackened timbers it had earned its reputation as the scourge of the seas. The smaller ships, Spirit and Swatt looked like regular galleys with white sails and natural timbers.
The Captain of the Deathbringer, a completely black furred fox stepped out on deck. He walked to the bow where a sea rat was standing at attention. The fox smacked the rat's head with the hilt of his saber. "What are you starin at? Get back to work!" he snarled. The fox smiled quietly as the rat hobbled off clutching his head tightly.
"Captain Skel?" A voice called out from behind him.
"I thought I told you to get back to work!" Skel whirled around with his saber drawn ready to attack, when he stopped. It was his first mate, Blackgut. "You shouldn't do that Blackgut, one day I might just kill you," Skel said dangerously as he lowered the saber. "Now tell me and tell me quick what you wanted to say."
"C-c-captain, w-we have a-arrived," Blackgut stammered.
Skel leaned back on the rail "Good, Are the other ships ready?" he asked.
"Y-yes sir they are."
"Signal that we land in one hour's time," Skel said as he rushed off below deck to his cabin.
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The fish that Martin and Clecky had caught was so large that it took the help of Skipper and Higgle to drag it back to the Abbey.
"My goodness!" Friar Harold exclaimed. "When you said you'd catch a carp you really meant it."
Martin slumped down in a chair and breathed heavily. "I hope the baking pit is big enough for it," he said "It nearly sank the boat to the bottom of the pond."
Clecky, of course, was just eager to have it cooked so that he could eat it. "I say old chap, don't just gawp at the fish all day long, and cook it, wot."
Auma walked in and scooped up Clecky and walked off with him underneath her arm. "Come on now, you've got work to do in the kitchens, scrubbing pots, peeling potatoes, won't this be great fun?"
They could hear Clecky's yowling as it got fainter off into the distance. "Help! Murder! Somebody help a poor chap! Wot"
Friar Harold was greatly relieved that the hare was gone and began to prepare the carp. "Craklyn, would you bring me the parsley and dill leaves?"
"Be right there with 'em, oh and Martin, Abbess Tansy would like to talk to you."
Martin rose from his chair and headed to the door. "Well, ok, but do you know why?"
"No, she didn't say," Craklyn replied.
Down in the Cavern Hole Tansy was waiting in the Abbess's chair. Martin came in and sat down next to her. "What is the trouble mother abbess?
"Its probably nothing, but Gerul just flew in and was in a panic last night and said that he had seen a small band of vermin wandering through the woods close to the abbey. I was wondering if you thought this might be a concern to the safety of the abbey"
Martin leaned back in his chair. "Hmm, I guess the best thing we can do is to place some sentries on the walls, and keep the gates securely locked until we know that they are gone. Was there anything else you needed?"
Tansy replied "No, thank you Martin" Tansy she looked a little worried.
No one wanted breakfast as they were saving their appetite for the feast. The carp had finished baking, and was now being garnished with watershrimp and fresh vegetables. Friar Harold would not let a single beast near it until the feast. Out on the Abbey lawn Rollo and Wullger were helping to set up the feast. Rollo brought out tablecloths and silver ware, While Wullger brought baskets of nut bread and small cakes.
"Whew! Who would have thought that there would be so much bread at one feast?" Wullger said as he sat down on the grass.
Rollo eyed the fat otter suspiciously, "You've only taken three baskets out here. How can you be tired?"
"Aye, but those were heavy baskets; bread is really heavy you know."
"Huh, heavy bread, go get another basket."
A small procession of Redwallers was Following Friar Harold as he pushed the carp out to the table on the lawn. With the help of Skipper and Wullger they lifted the carp onto the table. "Oh no," Harold muttered to Skipper as Clecky staggered out of the Abbey with an enormous flagon of ale. "Here comes trouble. Hide the fish!"
The Redwallers gathered around the fish on the table so that Clecky could not see it. "I say you chaps, what are you hidin' there?"
"Hiding? What do you mean hiding, we're not hiding anything," Harold replied. "Nice day isn't it?"
"Humph, nice day indeed," Clecky said as he sulked across the Abbey lawn.
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Skel arrived on shore with his entire force, which consisted of about fifty score rats. They all were former soldiers with combat experience and training. Skel had donned his battle armor which consisted of a short mail tunic with a brass breast plate on top of it. He also wore a large steel Sallet helmet over a mail coif. All of the troops wore a mail tunic, with brass shoulder dubbings, and small open faced Sallet helms. Each troop had a halberd, a short sword, and a bow with a quiver of arrows.
"Blackgut! Get these fools in formation!" Skel bellowed.
"Yes, my lord." Blackgut hurried to do his master's bidding, forming them into ten ranks of twenty wide and five strong. "Alright, quick march across into Mossflower, and then we will camp" Blackgut shouted.
Skel wandered up to Blackgut and whispered to him. "Did the scouts return?"
"None of them returned, something must have happened to them," Blackgut replied
Skel thought for a minute. "Has the guide showed up yet?" he inquired.
Blackgut pointed to a large elm tree on the fringe of the forest. "Yes, my lord, he is waiting by the edge of the trees." The shape of a pine marten could barely be made out from the dense undergrowth.
Skel leaned on his saber hilt. "So, the marten has the map?"
"Yes, my lord, he is the one," Blackgut replied.
"Very well, go and bring my Captains, We must discuss a strategy for attack on this Redstone place, if it is as heavily fortified as I have heard it to be." With a swish of his cloak the black fox walked over to where the pine marten lay waiting.
The pine marten's fur was a peculiar shade of brown, with a greenish tint, possibly from vegetable dye. This allowed him to almost completely disappear when lying still in the under growth. "Are you Captain Skel?" the marten asked as Skel approached.
"Yes, I am. Do you have the map?" Skel demanded.
"Of course," the marten replied.
"How did you get it?" Skel asked.
"'Twas nothing really, I pinched it from a small band of robbers, but I will not give it to you for nothing," The marten said as he drew forth a small parchment from his tunic.
Skel leaned against a tree. "Understandable, what is it that you want?"
"I want riches! From that Redstone place. There is plenty of it there!"
Skel put his paw across the pine marten's shoulder. "Come back to my camp, I'll see what we can arrange" Skel said as he secretly drew a small dagger from underneath his cloak.
Greed gleamed in the marten's eyes as he replied. "Good, I will lead you to the Abbey. But as soon as you conquer it I will want my re-" The pine marten fell forward onto the sand, the dagger buried in his back.
"Oh don't worry; you'll get your reward!" Skel said as he removed the map from the lifeless paws of the marten.
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The Feast was completely prepared. Nut bread, oat cakes, shrimp 'n hotroot soup, turnip 'n tater 'n beetroot 'n deeper 'n ever pie (a favorite among moles), scones, stews of every kind, mushroom flans, leek and potato pasties, shortbread biscuits, cheeses, salads, and to top it all off the Great Hall cake and the carp.
Clecky immediately set out upon the salad, piling his bowl so high that it nearly fell over into Wullger's cider, who happened to be sitting next to Clecky.
Wullger picked a lettuce leaf from his cider. "Clecky please try to keep your salad out of me cider."
Clecky shoved some carp into his pasty and ate it in two bites. "Well then keep your cider away from my salad. You know how it tends to jump about, wot!"
Tears flowed from Brother Dormal's eyes as he gulped down his ale after eating a spoonful of hotroot soup. "Gah! How much hotroot did you put in there, Skip?
After finishing off his second bowl, Skipper replied "Haharr! Just enough mate. I had to spice it up a little."
"A little? I think Im going to die!" the old mouse said as he gulped another tankard of ale.
Tansy had to bang on a small pan with a spoon to get silence for her announcement. "I would just like to announce that in a few minutes, once you're all done of course, that the Great Hall Cake will be cut and ser-" Tansy paused for a second to brush a raindrop off of her nose then resumed speaking. "Will be cut and served. I also believe that this feast should be moved inside to the Cavern Hole seeing as it is raining." As Tansy spoke more raindrops plopped down from the sky.
Clecky did not seem to mind the rain too much; he just kept on eating as the rain began to fall. "This is great food! Oh what's that you say, Wullger? You're feeling much pain? Then go to the infirmary"
"No, I said it's starting to rain, so get your head out of that pasty and move inside."
"Rain? Oh, then I think we should go inside."
"I wonder what made you think of that?" Wullger sighed as he walked inside, leaving Clecky to finish his pasty in the rain.
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The rain did not bother Skel too much, nor his horde. Being sailor's they were used to being wet. They had arrived on the edge of the flatlands between Mossflower and Redwall at about midday. The Abbey was in sight. Skel was having a conversation with one of his horde captains, a ferret named Tarro. They held the map underneath a cloak, so it would not get wet. Tarro looked the map over. "Look here, the main wall gate is heavily defended with two bars, but the wickergates have only one bar."
Skel pointed to the map. "Hmm, I see. Those would be the ones to go for. There could possibly be enough space to slip a sword blade between the doors, and lift the bar up to open it."
"Sounds like a good plan, but we would have to create a distraction. And draw their forces away from the wickergates to the main gate. If our archers send a couple of arrows up over the west wall, then the Abbey Defenders should send there force up there, leaving the wickergates unguarded," Tarro schemed.
"Ok, we will send a score of our troops to the east wicker gate, while the rest of the forces create the distraction," Skel said, "Tarro, you will lead the force to the wicker gate. When you are in then you will make your way to the front gate, and open it for the rest of the horde. Slay all who oppose. Take no prisoners."
Tarro drew his great sword, and began sharpening it on a rock "Certainly, I would be honored."
"Go get my assassin," Skel demanded to Blackgut, who was sitting near by.
"Yes my lord," He said quickly as he ran off to get Grag, Skel's personal assassin.
Grag had never really joined the horde, but had proved himself a capable assassin in the past, so Skel hired him. No one was really sure what he was, some said he was a fox, like Skel, other said he was a stoat, a rat, maybe a weasel, but no one really knows for sure as he always wore a hooded cloak, and is never visible. Grag always had at least six long daggers with him each with a varying strength of poison on it. He also carried an assortment of small unlabeled vials containing strange substances. "You sent for me?" Grag asked as he arrived in front of Skel.
Skel reclined against a rock. "Yes, I have a job for you,"
"And what may that be?"
"I need you to infiltrate the Abbey, and find their main source of food and water, Poison it so that when they are under siege they will have no source of food or water."
"It will be done," The assassin sniggered.
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Back at the Abbey, no beast knew about the impending danger. The feast had been moved inside, and most beasts were finishing up their supper. Night had fallen, and Rollo was soon going to announce the name he had chosen for the season.
"After much consideration, I have decided to name the season, the Season of Falling Water, because falling water seems to have interrupted our feast. Though it looks to me like I should have named it the Season of the Gluttonous Hare, for Clecky is still gorging himself." Rollo sat back in his chair after his announcement.
"When there's food around me, you should know I will eat it, wot!" Clecky replied.
"That's for sure" Auma muttered.
Since the feast had finished many beasts left off for bed, but Auma, Tansy, and Martin stayed in the cavern hole. "That was some feast" Auma commented. "It would have been perfect except for the rain"
"Martin, do you have sentries stationed on the wall tops?" Tansy wondered.
"No, I don't feel there is much of a need for that" Martin replied.
They could hear Auma gently snoring. She had fallen asleep. "Auma has had a great idea! I think we should all do the same," Martin suggested.
"I agree with you Martin."
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Grag stood just outside of the walls. With him he had a small grapple with a length of rope attached. Twirling the grapple he flung it expertly up over the wall so it caught on a gargoyle head. With barely any sound, Grag climbed the rope up to the wall top. Looking around to make sure no one was watching he slid down the stairs onto the Abbey lawn. Light could be seen from the kitchens as the cooks were up already preparing for breakfast. No beast bothered to look out the window, but if they had they would have seen the dark shape of Grag crawling to the main door. Grag had greased the hinges of the door so they would be as silent as possible. Slowly, Grag pushed the door. Inch by inch the door opened wider. It was almost large enough for him to squeeze through when it let out a piercing screech.
SSCCRRREEEECCCHHH!
Clecky and Gerul had been walking back from the cavern hole after finishing their food at around midnight hour. "What was that?" Clecky asked Gerul as they walked past the door.
The big owl walked to the door and slammed it shut. "Ah, it was just the wind blowing the main door open, Nothing to worry about."
Unfortunately, for Grag, his paw had been on the door frame when Gerul had shut it. He shoved his paw in his mouth both to ease the pain and to keep himself from screaming. After a minute or two he got up and opened the door, and quickly jumping through. He hid in the shadows before Gerul could turn about and spot him.
Gerul took a chair and propped it against the door "I seriously don't know why this door won't stay closed!"
Silently drawing one of his daggers as he prepared to throw it, He recalled Skel saying specifically to kill any birds that were in the Abbey as they could leave to get help during a siege. Taking aim he waited until Gerul was within range, and then, he threw!
But he had thrown too soon, Gerul sat down and the blade flew over his head and straight into Dormal, who had just rounded the corner.
"Oh there you are, Clecky, Friar Harold would like you t-ohhh!" Dormal fell over, the dagger in his chest.
Clecky ran over to see what was wrong. "Dormal? Dormal?? What's happened?" Clecky was in a panic. "Gerul go get Martin and Mother Abbess, Quickly!"
Grag cursed silently to himself at his mistake. He slipped off down the Halls to complete his mission.
Up in the dormitories Martin awoke to frantic pounding on his door. "Wha? Who is that?? Don't you realize what time it is?"
Gerul shouted through the door "I'm sorry Martin, but we need you, Brother Dormal has just been hit by a dagger through the chest, He is down in the great hall, Hurry!"
Martin grabbed his sword and ran down to the Great Hall with Gerul and a few Redwallers who had overheard following closely behind. When Martin got to the Great hall torches had been lit and the entire room was illuminated. Abbess Tansy rushed down the stairs. "What's happened Martin?
Martin knelt by Dormal and pulled the dagger from his chest. "I'm not sure, but Dormal has been killed. Skipper, look at this dagger. It's been poisoned. No one at Redwall has a dagger like this."
Skipper took the dagger and inspected it. "But if it's not from Redwall then whose is it?"
"Whoever it was, he is still in this Abbey, so we will find him eventually."
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As the Sun came up over the horizon, Skel's troops were readying themselves for battle. They had moved towards the Abbey during the night and now waited in formation in front of the main gate. Tarro and his troops had moved east to the wicker gate and were awaiting the signal. Blackgut had ten archers stand in formation in front of the horde. "Ready, Fire!"
Twang! The first volley of arrows flew up and over the walls. Martin, who was wearing his full battle armor showed his head over the wall. "What is it that you want at our Abbey?"
Skel walked through the row between the ranks of his horde. "You look like a Warrior. You should know what any conqueror would want. Are you the head of this Abbey?"
"No, I am not the head. I am Martin, the Champion of Redwall. If you wish to speak with our Abbess, then we can arrange it, but not with any weapons drawn."
"Ha! You make me laugh, Martin, Champion of Redwall. Do you take me for a fool? The moment we throw down our weapons, you will come charging out and attack! We will not throw them down. If you do not surrender, then I will take this Abbey by force. Surrender now and all of you will be spared."
Tansy walked to the wall top and held a hushed conversation with Martin. "What you ask cannot be done," Tansy announced to Skel. "We cannot surrender our Abbey."
Skel turned and walked away. "So be it. You have sealed your fate"
The first volley of arrows had been the signal for Tarro to begin operations. Using the blade of his Great Sword, Tarro and a few rats lifted the bar free of its holders and opened the gate. THUNK! The bar hit the ground inside the Abbey.
Slowly, Tarro opened the gate. Looking around he saw no one. Motioning for his troops to follow, he silently crept out onto the lawn.
On top of the wall above Tarro, Skipper and his otter crew were waiting, each armed with a javelin, a sling, and a club. "Wait for it" Skipper said softly. "Now!" On that word the otters let a volley of javelins and sling stones fly downwards, felling four rats and injuring three. Immediately Skipper and his crew rushed down from the wall top and into the ranks of the rats. Another four rats fell to the otters as they broke ranks and dashed for the door.
Tarro, however, did not run. He stood ready with his great sword drawn. Swinging the sword expertly he cut down an otter who was trying to attack him. "Get back here you pea brained scum! Stand and fight!" he shouted to his fleeing troops. Only three turned back, the other six making it out the door.
Two more rats went down to the otters clubs. Seeing that all was lost the ferret made his way to the door. The final rat was cut down, and Skipper and his otters had the door shut and barred. Martin had also appeared with the Sword of Redwall drawn and ready. With a cry of dismay, Tarro charged Martin, who easily brought his sword up and blocked the attack.
Tarro swung the sword around and then brought his sword down onto Martin, who easily dodged away. Tarro's sword buried itself into the timbers of the door. Unable to get it free, Tarro was open to attack. Martin took his chance and threw the sword of Redwall with all his might at Tarro. Without any word Tarro stared at Martin in disbelief. The sword had run straight through him. Tarro fell, never to rise again.
Breaking the silence Martin asked, "How many did we loose, Skip?"
Pulling Tarro's sword from the door, Skipper replied. "Just one Martin, but they lost fifteen."
"One loss for us is a great loss, Skip, but fifteen losses for them hardly scratches their numbers.
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Grath Longfletch and Inbar Trueflight had been watching from the fringe of the woods. The two otters stared at the situation. "It seems that just the time we come to visit, they are under attack by some outrageously large vermin horde." Inbar remarked.
Grath took out some charcoal and a piece of parchment. "Looks like if we go knocking on that door, they just might drop something nasty on us, so I think that we should let them know we are here."
"How would we do that?" Inbar asked.
"With a note tied to an arrow, of course," Grath replied as she scribbled something on the parchment. "To whoever reads this, your friends Grath and Inbar have arrived for a visit" she read aloud as she wrote. Taking out a green flighted arrow, she tied the note to the shaft. Taking careful aim at Redwall, she fired. Twang The arrow whizzed through the air towards the Abbey.
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Thunk! An arrow buried itself in the main abbey door, just missing Martin's head. Pulling the arrow from the door, he noticed it had a green flight. There was some thing familiar about it, but he could not think of what. Taking off the note he read to Tansy who was standing nearby:
"Too who evver reeds thes, yore frinds Grath n Inbar hav arived fer a visitt" Martin read.
"What is that Martin?" Tansy asked.
Happily Martin explained. "It's a note from Grath saying that she and Inbar have arrived to visit," Martin handed her the note.
"Grath doesn't seem to spell real well, does she?"
"No, but she's the best archer you will ever see." Martin ran to the gatehouse and knocked on the door.
Wullger opened the door. "'ello Martin, ye need something?"
Martin removed his helmet. "Yes, could you do me a favor? Could you run and get my longbow, an arrow, some parchment, and a stick of charcoal?"
Wullger walked off. "Sure, but I don't see what ye need 'em for" He returned in a minute with all the stuff and Rollo following behind.
"Is something wrong, Martin?" Rollo inquired.
"No, I just received an arrow with a letter from Grath Longfletch."
"Ah, and your sending a reply. Your father Mattimeo liked to send notes over the wall to creatures in the woods. Never could figure out who he was sending them to though." Rollo said as he walked back into the gate house.
Martin and Abbess Tansy walked up the steps in the Bell tower. Up in the top they looked out in the direction the Arrow cam from. "Look there" Martin pointed to a spot in the woods. "I can barely see Inbar by that big Elm tree, here; I think you had better write the note. Im just about as good at writing as Grath is."
Tansy took the parchment." What should I write?"
"Dear Grath and Inbar, I suppose you have noticed the situation we are in. You could possibly be of help to us. The East wicker gate will be open when the bells toll the midnight hour. Meet us at the gate, and we will let you in. Sincerely, Martin, and Abbess Tansy." Martin took the Parchment, rolled it up, and pinned it to the arrow. Taking careful aim he sighted down the arrow. Drawing back the string, he let the arrow fly. Watching as it sailed through the air and hitting the elm Inbar was sitting under.
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Inbar removed the arrow from the tree and he read it. "Look here, it says that we should go to the east wicker gate at midnight."
Grath walked up "Midnight, eh? How will we keep the vermin from sighting us?"
"Im not sure, but well have to find a way before tonight."
In the Vermin camp Skel was not in the least pleased. He would have to fight to conquer the Abbey. Even though he had enough troops for the job, he wished they had surrendered. It would have made things much easier for him. The remaining six rats from the raid had been brought before him. Grabbing the neck of the first rat, he lifted him into the air. "You deserted Tarro and the rest of the raid. What is your name?
"R-Redtooth s-sir," The rat stammered.
"There is no place in this horde for deserters. What do you think I should do to you? Should I run you through with your own weapon? No, that wouldn't be slow enough. Maybe I should skin you alive." Skel drew a long skinning knife. "That's slow and painful. Or maybe I should just let you leave? How's that sound to you?
"S-sounds fine s-sir. Just let me l-leave."
"Ok, I'll let you leave." Skel took his long knife and stabbed it between the rat's ribs. He then turned to the other five and threw down Redtooth's lifeless body. "See? Did I not let him leave? Would any others care to join him? No? Ok then." Skel sheathed his knife and drew his saber. "Now get out of my sight before I slice you all to ribbons!" Skel snarled as the rats stumbled off.
Skel turned to Blackgut. "How many did we lose?"
Blackgut replied. "Fifteen, sir, including Tarro."
"I see that old fool has finally gotten himself killed. Go fetch my Longbow and a quiver of arrows. I will make them pay for their victory."
When Blackgut returned with the bow and arrows, Skel snatched them from him. Evening was falling and it was getting dark. Skel got a black cloak to prevent his armor showing his position to the enemies. Keeping low he crept towards the Abbey until the wall top was in range. He could see a shape up on top of the wall. Taking careful aim with the bow, he pulled back the string as far as he could. Adjusting and calculating so that it would find its target, he fired! Twang! The arrow met its mark as the shape fell fromview.
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Friar Harold had been on guard duty, and the arrow had been shot with such expertise that it penetrated the old mail tunic that Harold had been wearing. Arven had seen the arrow hit Harold, and the squirrel quickly dashed up the stairs to the wall top. By the time he got up to the wall top it was too late. The arrow had penetrated Friar Harold's chest killing him on impact. "Harold? Harold? Are you ok??" Arven then dashed off to find Martin.
Martin had been eating a late dinner in the Cavern Hole when Arven burst in. "Why are you in such a hurry?" Martin inquired.
"The enemy has moved, they have killed Friar Harold!"
Martin nearly choked on the scone he had been eating. "Ack! What??"
Arven dashed out the door. "Come Quickly!"
Grabbing his sword he followed Arven out to the wall top. Not a single rat could be seen across the great plain. It was as if they had called a retreat and left. But Martin knew better, they would be back. And they would come when he was least expecting it.
Bong! Clang! Boom! Bong!
The Matthias and Methuselah bells tolled the midnight hour. Martin hurried off to the wicker gate, where Tansy was waiting. There was a soft knock on the gate. Slowly opening it, Martin peeked out. Grath and Inbar were there. "Come in, quickly" he said as he hurried the two otters inside the gate and barred it. "Arven will take you to the Cavern Hole. Mother Abbess and I have to have a little conversation with Gerul. Speaking of which, where is he?"
Arven piped up, "I last saw him in the Bell tower. He should still be there."
Martin and Abbess Tansy walked towards the bell tower. Tansy called back. "Take Grath and Inbar to the Cavern Hole now"
Inbar laughed to Grath, "Too busy te take us 'imself eh?"
"They obviously 'ave some important matters to attend to." Grath replied.
On the way to the Bell tower Martin and Tansy were discussing what to do about the rats.
"We should get some outside help. From Salamandastron possibly. I'm sure Cregga and the Long Patrol would be glad to help Redwall," Martin suggested.
"But the only way to get their help would be to send Gerul, and I would be responsible if he was hurt," Tansy argued.
"This is war, Mother Abbess. It should be Gerul's decision whether he should go or not. Here look, I can see him up in the Bell Tower window."
Gerul was reluctant to go, but after a little bit of convincing and the promise of an extra meal per day, he decided to leave immediately for Salamandastron, winging off into the night so that archers could not spot him, Martin remarked to Tansy. "See, I told you he goes for it. All you have to do is offer extra food and he immediately agrees"
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The Ships of Skel's horde were left guarded only by their boatswains, and five rats each.
Cringe, the boatswain of the Spirit was worried. Dark clouds were forming on the Horizon and the winds were beginning to pick up. None of the other horde beasts or boatswains seemed concerned. The water had become choppy and murky, rocking the boat with each passing wave. Cringe watched helplessly as the huge clouds billowed on the horizon growing larger with each passing minute. He knew that the Spirit could not survive such a storm. Nor could the Swatt for that matter or any of the smaller ships. The only ship that had a remote chance of surviving was the Deathbringer. Unfortunately, the only beasts allowed on that vessel were Skel's personal staff. Any one else caught onboard would be thrown overboard with a weight around his neck. His only hope would be to get on land, but an even worse fate was saved for deserters. Cringe would just have to wait out the storm.
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It was early evening of the next day when Gerul arrived at the gate of Salamandastron. He had flown non-stop, and was desperate for water. After banging feebly on the large wooden door, a hare appeared in a window above the door. "Who goes there? Friend or foe?"
"I am Gerul of Redwall Abbey. I seek the Long Patrol's help" Gerul gasped out.
Gerul watched the hare disappear from view. He heard some shouting behind the door, and then it swung partially open. He was helped inside by two hares, and taken to the main hall. Colonel Cornspurrey De Fformelo Tussock sat in his chair at the long table. His patrol to Camp Tussock had been delayed due to the impending weather, so he was not in the best of moods. "What does that old bird want?"
One of the Hares stepped forward. "Colonel, this is Gerul of Redwall Abbey, he seeks help from the Long Patrol."
"And what kind o'help does that bird want?"
Frustrated with the Colonel, Gerul stepped forward this time. "I have flown non-stop from Redwall because we have been attacked by the horde of a murderous fox, who calls 'imself the Scourge o' the Seas! I don't think you realize that the size of his force rivals the size of the entire Long Patrol!"
Furious with Gerul's outburst, the Colonel was about to swing his swagger stick when he was stopped by some one from behind.
"Colonel! If you wish to keep that rank I suggest you keep your temper under control." Cregga Rose Eyes of Salamandastron relieved the Colonel of his swagger stick.
"Gerul, Redwall has long been our ally, how can the Long Patrol assist you?"
"As you probably heard Redwall doesn't stand a chance against that horde. They total near one thousand. All of them rats, except for the commanders."
"Ah, yes, we have seen their ships about two leagues to the North. Those ships won't survive this storm. We can assist you. Hmmm, A thousand you say? I suppose we could match that number. Don't you agree Colonel Tussock?"
"Humph!"
"I said, don't you agree??" Anger was clear in the badger's tone.
Colonel Tussock sat Bolt upright as the monocle fell from his eye. "Yes, of course I do."
"Good. Now Redwall is a good day's march away, so we will have to hurry if we are to beat the storm. Sergeant Torgoch?"
Torgoch stood at attention. "Yes 'm lady?"
"You have approximately one hour to ready fifty score troops for battle. We will march as soon as that is done."
"Fifty Score?? May I ask the reason?"
Cregga sat down in her chair. "There is a little bit of trouble at Redwall. We have to leave before this storm hits. Otherwise we'll be stuck in Salamandastron. Colonel Tussock, I'm leaving you in charge during my absence."
This news seemed to brighten up the Colonel. "Certainly sah! I'll do a spiffin job while you're gone, wot!"
Gerul and Cregga sat in the main hall discussing the battle to come. After about a half hour, Sergeant Torgoch ran in. "The troops are ready sah, but we'd better leave now. The storm is almost upon us!"
Cregga stood up. "Very well. I will be down with the troops outside in ten minutes. Be ready to march as soon as I come." Cregga walked off to her private room to retrieve her armor and spear.
Outside, Major Perigord Habile Sinistra had the troops formed into ranks of twenty wide and five deep. Half of the troops wielded long pikes, with Salamandastron's banner flying from them in the strong breeze. The other half wielded long or short swords and large shields. Cregga emerged from Salamandastron into the strong breeze. She was clad in a long mail tunic with a steel breast plate, pauldrons, and vambraces. A large steel helmet was on her head, and in her right paw she had an enormous pike. "Is everything ready?" she asked Major Perigord.
"Yes sah! We are ready to march. Though looks like we better get on with it. That storm wellin' up will be a big 'un."
"Then we must hurry! Get the troops into a fast march."
"You 'eard 'er! Fast march! Keep formation!"
The first drop of rain plopped down onto Cregga's helmet as the Long Patrol marched off to Redwall.
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Crraack! BOOOM!!
The first clap of thunder was heard over Redwall. Evening was falling, and the winds were picking up. Dark clouds were obscuring the sun's final rays as it dipped below the horizon. Abbess Tansy was up in the bell tower keeping watch for Gerul's return. She saw movement in the woods. The hordes of Skel had returned! Seething masses of rats poured from the woods completely encircling the Abbey. Tansy could hear the bang of a battering ram against the main door. Grath and Inbar had come up behind her.
Inbar tapped her on the shoulder. "If ye don't mind, me 'n Grath are goin to fire some arrows from up here."
"No, go right ahead," She said shakily.
The alarm bells tolled loudly behind them. Grath had to shout so Inbar could hear. "Over there, look! They have, massed by the main gate!"
Pulling back a red flighted arrow on his string, he fired. "Well, that's one down. How many you reckon there are?"
"I'd say at least a thousand," Grath estimated.
Inbar ran over to the second window. "Uh-oh, there's even more commin too, look!" Inbar pointed towards the horizon where a black mass of creatures was marching to the Abbey.
Martin came rushing up he tower steps in his battle armor. "Abbess Tansy, come. It is not safe up here. You are within arrow range."
Inbar came over to Martin. "Look at the horizon, they have more troops coming!"
"Grath, Inbar, stay up here and fire down with your arrows. Tansy, go down and find friar Higgle. He will take you to the cellars. It is safe there."
"But Martin!" Tansy argued.
"But nothing. You must go now! If you were to be killed, this Abbey would be without a leader. We would surely fall then. Please, go to the cellars!"
Without any further word, Abbess Tansy and Martin hurried down the stairs, leaving Grath and Inbar to fire from the bell tower.
Down on the lawn, Martin, Skipper and his crew were running to defend the walls. Arrows whizzed through the air above their heads, an arrow felled the otter running next to Skipper. "Be careful! Watch for arrows!" Skipper shouted over the roar of the wind. Rain poured down over the defenders, as lighting coursed through the sky.
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The ships on the coast were now in the worst of the storm. Huge crested rollers washed over the deck of the Spirit. The lanterns on the Deathbringer shone out through the storm.
Cringe was out on deck with what little crew there was on the ship. He was desperately trying to keep the bow to the waves, for if he didn't, the ship would capsize and sink. He called desperately to the two rats manning the tiller. "Keep 'er to the waves! Don't let 'er fall to either side!"
Crrrackk!
Cringe jumped aside as a large section of timber flew passed him and smashed right into the tiller and the rats manning it. The tiller was destroyed… there was now ay to maneuver the ship now, and Cringe knew this. Jumping to one of the ship's long boats, he released it from the side and fell into the sea. The boat drifted away quickly. Cringe had to keep his weight centered to keep it from capsizing.
The ship quickly fell prey to the sea. He watched as the she was struck by a wave on her port side. The ship flipped nearly completely over, and floated there for a second. Then another wave crashed into its hull, smashing it to pieces. He watched the cabin lights flicker out through the murky water as the ship sank to the murky depths.
He smiled as he thought quietly to himself. He had escaped while the others were lost. His smile quickly disappeared as the same wave that had destroyed the Spirit
crashed down upon the long boat.
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Blackgut had been the first to see the Long Patrol on the horizon. Running to tell Skel, he came just short with a green flighted arrow in his back. Crawling staggeringly forward he made his final report to Skel in two words. "Enemies-horizon" Blackgut then fell onto to Skel, who angrily pushed him off.
He called to his remaining horde captain, a weasel named Lameg who came rushing over. "Enemies have arrived. I don't know how the Redwallers got word to them, but we must repel them if we are to conquer this Abbey. Take eight hundred of the troops. Have all of them fire arrows as soon as the enemy is within range."
"Yes, sir," Lameg replied as he ran to gather the troops.
Major Perigord had formed the long patrol into five phalanx formations. The troops who had shields were in the front, while the pike bearers were behind them with their points resting over the shields. With permission from Lady Cregga, he gave the order to march towards the enemy. "Forward march!"
Lameg's troops stood with their arrow drawn back on their strings, waiting as the Long Patrol came closer… closer. "Wait! Aim at the middle Phalanx! Ready! Fire!"
On that final word near eight hundred arrows whistled through the air, and tore into the middle phalanx. Almost half a hundred hares fell, destroying the middle phalanx.
Drawing his saber Major Perigord stood in front with Cregga. "Break formation!! Chaaaaaaaaaarge!!!!!" With a thunderous roar the entire long patrol broke formation and stampeded toward the enemy.
Lightning coursed through the sky above the two armies. Picking up their halberds, the rats hoped to repel the charge. Cregga had been leading the charge. Despite the pounding rain and howling wind, she was the first to arrive. Rats fell left and right to her pike thrusts. She was in the middle of the rat horde as soon as the rest of the Long Patrol arrived.
Immediately, the entire front rank of rats fell. But it seemed that for every rat that fell, another took his place. The Long Patrol was now completely surrounded. They were now at a great disadvantage.
The battering ram had made short work of the gate. The timbers were cracking and soon the gate would splinter. Skipper and his Otters had been chucking javelins down upon them from the wall tops. Skel had several dents in his helmet from these. Skipper called down to Martin who was down in front of the main gate with Arven and half of Skipper's crew, "I don't think that gate is gonna last much longer, mate!"
Martin called back up too Skipper. "I agree! In fact, this next blow should shatter it!"
Martin had been right. The next blow did shatter it, and soon rats were pouring through the hole in the gate. Arven had managed to remove Tarro's sword from the wicker gate and he and Martin fought back to back against the attacking rats. Skipper and the Otters were still chucking javelins.
Soon the small force which Skel was leading had been reduced to about two score. Skel decided it was time for him to step in. All fighting ceased inside the abbey when he stepped through the gate. Drawing both his saber and his skinning knife, he started toward Martin.
"Arven, stay back. This is my fight," Martin said as he stepped forward towards Skel.
Both Redwallers and Horde Rats had stopped fighting and formed a ring around the two leaders.
Water dripped from Skel's helmet as he swung his saber. "Fool! Did you think that you could defeat my army?"
Martin brought his blade up and blocked the blow. "You call that pitiful rabble an army? Hah, I'll bet that the long patrol has already defeated it."
Skel dodged a blow from Martins sword, and quickly swung his saber, only to have it clang harmlessly off Martin's armor. Skel parried a blow from Martin's sword and swung low knocking Martin off his paws. Skel swung down hard onto Martin, only to have the blade hit the ground. Martin had rolled to the side and leapt up. He then brought his sword down onto Skel's helmet.
Stars exploded in Skel's eyes, as he tried to stay conscious. Skel staggered right into Skipper, who pushed him roughly away. Skel's head began to clear, and he grabbed his weapons off the ground.
Skel swung high with his saber towards Martin's head. Martin easily brought his sword up, and blocked the blow, but what Martin hadn't noticed was that Skel was wielding the skinning knife in his left paw. By the time Martin realized this, it was too late. Skel had driven the knife between the plates of Martin's armor.
Martin's sword dropped from his paw as he fell to the ground. Everyone was silent for a second. The only thing making any sound was the ceaseless rain and the roar of the wind.
Suddenly all of the rats dropped their halberds, drew their swords and advanced on the shocked Redwallers. "Retreat! Back to the Abbey! Everyone!" Skipper bellowed.
Arven had not heard Skipper's order; he was concentrating only on one thing… Skel. He slipped off to the side as the Redwallers retreated back to the Abbey. Skel moved up onto the wall. Arven ran to Martin to see if there was anything that could be done, but there was nothing that could be done to save him. Grabbing Martin's sword and wrenching Skel's knife from Martin he dashed toward the wall. A rat tried to stop him, but to no avail. Arven killed him with one thrust of the sword.
Skel had seen this happen and knew that the squirrel would try to attack him. Drawing his Saber, Skel turned to face his opponent. "I have killed your Champion, what makes you think that you can defeat me?"
Arven did not respond. Instead he just leveled the sword at Skel and charged. Skel parried the blow easily, stepped to one side and brought the flat of his blade down on Arven, knocking him flat. Arven's sword slid across the wet stones and fell off the wall down onto the ground.
Now unarmed, Arven had to dodge the sword blows jumping from side to side, as the saber blade whizzed through the air a fraction of an inch away from him. Suddenly, Arven slipped on the wet stones falling flat on his back, Skel took his chance, charging towards Arven with his saber raised for the final blow. Arven leapt up, and ducked under the saber and, stabbing upwards with the same knife that had killed Martin.
A look of disbelief was on Skel's face as he dropped his saber and stared at the knife stuck in his chest. He hobbled for a second and then toppled over the wall onto the abbey lawn. Immediately all of the rats inside the Abbey dropped their weapons, and held their paws high to surrender. Without their leader, they didn't know what to do, but the rats out on the plains did not know of their leaders defeat and kept on battling.
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The tide of battle was turning against Lameg. Skel's horde had been loosing numbers fast to the better trained Long Patrol. Major Perigord called to Cregga and pointed with his sword, "See that big weasel over yonder? Well, there is a good bet that 'e is their leader."
Cregga impaled two rats on her pike. "Yes, if we kill 'im then these vermin will be leaderless."
Cregga took aim down her pike shaft, and then hurling with all her might, sent it flying right towards Lameg. It hit the mark, passing straight through him and into the rat behind him.
Perigord marveled at Cregga's aim. "That took him out, I'll bet that you could nail an ant from a league away with that thing"
"Why, thank you, Major"
Seeing their leader defeated, most rats threw down their weapons and surrendered. Those who chose to fight on were quickly cut down by the long patrol.
Cregga retrieved her pike. "Sergeant Torgoch!"
Perigord, who was standing nearby, smartly stood at attention "Yes sir!"
"Round up these rats, I'll deal with them later. She said as she wiped of her pike blade.
"Yes, sir!" Perigord turned around, only to bump into Torgoch, who was staggering under the weight of swords, knives, and even a large metal spoon. All of which he had collected from the rats.
Perigord picked up the spoon. "What are you doing?"
Torgoch smiled innocently, "Oh me? I'm just getting things for my collection,"
Perigord put down the spoon. "I thought you collected blades, not spoons. And how are you going to carry all of that back to Salamandastron?"
Torgoch inspected the spoon. "It is too a blade, look here. One of the rats has sharpened it around the edges and as for getting it back to Salamandastron, I guess I'll carry it all. Though I hope that this rain doesn't rust it."
Inside the Abbey, everyone thought that there was no more danger. Gerul had come in, and other than being sopping wet, he was ok. A feast was going to be prepared in honor of the fallen warriors. Martin had already been laid to rest, even though it was raining.
In the kitchens, Craklyn, the temporary head chef, had left her pot of woodland stew to boil, walking off to the pantries. No one was left in the kitchens. A shadowy figure slipped into the room.
Creeping close to the pot, the creature produced a vial from under its cloak. Quietly emptying its contents into the pot, and stirring it into the stew, it then disappeared back into the shadows as Rollo walked through the doorway.
Looking around to make sure no one was watching he took a spoon and dipped it into the stew, raising a steaming lump of potato to his mouth…
"Rollo!"
He quickly dropped the spoon into the pot and turned around." Er, hello Craklyn, I was just, er, checking the stew, to, er, see how it was cookin. Ohhhh!"
Rollo collapsed into a heap on the kitchen floor. Grag cursed silently to himself as he watched from the shadows. He hadn't anticipated any one tasting it before it had been served. Now he would most definitely be found. A crowd was gathering around the bank vole, and he was trapped in a corner! Sweat began to form on his brow when a large sword wielding squirrel walked in. A burly otter nudged the squirrel and pointed towards Grag. Drawing his dagger, he knew it was fight, or die.
Leaping from the shadows, Grag nicked the otter on his cheek. The otter swiftly turned and threw Grag to the floor. The last thing Grag ever heard was the sound of the squirrel's sword whistling through the air.
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An otter and a mouse had been posted on the wall as sentries. The rain had begun to let up, and the wind died down. The first rays of sunlight broke through the cloud cover as the otter looked toward the horizon. "Why do we have to be out here, Perry? There is nothing to watch for."
Perry turned toward the otter. "Because there might be a few rats that still want to fight. You saw how many made it away into the woods, didn't you Cammer?"
Cammer sighed heavily. "Yeah, I did. But I still would like to be down there in the cavern hole next to a good fire, eating good f-what was that?"
"What?"
Cammer pointed towards the east wicker gate. "Look, some beast has just gone through the wicker gate!"
Hurrying over to the wicker gate, they could see the faint outline of a fox, limping out into Mossflower.
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The feast had begun in the cavern hole, despite the death of Rollo. Cregga sat next to Arven. She rubbed her paws together in anticipation. "Its been quite awhile since I've been to a Redwall feast. I hope that feeding forty score hares isn't too much of a problem."
Gerul, who happened to be seated nearby Chuckled, "No, it's not any problem at all. Redwall was built to hold this many beasts, though it looks like our cook thinks differently." He pointed to Craklyn, who was slumped over, face first into a bowl of hotroot soup.
Tansy stood up to make an announcement, but she could not be heard over the noise. She looked to Skipper, who bellowed out over the crowd, "Quiet up everyone! The Abbess wants te make an announcement!" There was an immediate silence.
"Thank you, Skipper. Now as you probably know, our abbey warrior was lost tonight. So in his place the council of elders has voted to have Arven be the Abbey warrior. So some of you may not know that our recorder, Rollo was lost today also, but the beasts responsible for both their deaths have been dealt with. Construction will begin shortly to repair the damaged main gate, which Skel demolished."
Tansy's announcement was interrupted by Perry. "Was Skel by any chance a black furred fox?"
Arven answered the question before Tansy could. "Yes, he was, why?"
Perry slumped back in his chair. "Oh no. Then that means that he went out the east wicker gate just before the feast started."
Arven stood up. "That's impossible. I killed him personally!"
"He obviously isn't dead though How else could he have left the through the wicker gate?"
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It took Skel nearly a fortnight of slowly limping, but he finally made it to the beach. Strewn about everywhere was the planking of ships, rigging, masts, and sail cloth. The Deathbringer was the only ship left intact. It was beached on the shore, minus one mast and a figure head, but otherwise sailable. Climbing slowly up the mooring line, he made it t the deck. Looking around he saw no one. A voice suddenly rang out behind him, "So the captain finally returns, eh?"
Swiftly turning around he saw the boatswain, with his long dagger drawn. Skel pawed for his saber, but it wasn't there. However, he saw a cutlass lying on the deck. Quickly grabbing it and held it level at the crazed boatswain. "Drop your weapon. Now."
The boatswain dropped the dagger. "As you wish...Captain."
Skel began to question the boatswain. "How many of the crew is left?"
"Fifteen...sir."
"Good, that's enought to sail with. Is the hull of the ship ok?"
"Yes...sir."
"Ok, haul loose the mooring line. We set sail to Sampetra."
"What is our heading...sir?"
"Two hundred and fifty nine degrees north-west."
"It will be done...sir."
Skel turned and walked off to his cabin. Grabbing his sextant, he walked back out on deck. The crew had already pushed the boat off into the water. Walking to the bow, he started to charting his course. He began to scheme on how he would get revenge on Redwall and that squirrel. When he got to Sampetra, he would recruit an army twice the size of the previous. He would be more secretive too, attacking in the night while they were sleeping. Pity Grag was killed, he would have been useful.
Skel was so distracted with his scheming that he did not notice the boatswain creeping up behind him. Until it was too late. The crazed boatswain drove the dagger deep into Skel's heart. As his eyes began to cloud over, Skel heard the boatswain say something. "Ye were supposed to be the invincable conquerer. Look at ye now. Ye lost the battle, and ye lost the war. This will look like an accident. I have made it that way. No one will ever know what happened to Skel, the Fearless Scourge of the Seas!"
The boatswain pushed Skel over the railing, withdrawing his dagger at the same time. Upon hearing the splash of Skel hitting the water, he walked away as if nothing had happened. The last thing Skel ever saw was his ship receding into the distance.
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