2

Night had fallen. The moon cast no shadow over that fated night. A figure perched upon a dead branch, indistinguishable in the darkness. A certain sense of menace surrounded this deceased oaken limb, radiating from the figure. Visible, shining out like lantern lights through the darkest of nights though, were its eyes. Those eyes could penetrate anything, boring into a passing stranger's brain as easily as a screw into soft wood. The eyes flitted this way and that, searching for the next victim.

A flurry on the forest floor stopped its searching. The demented pale eyes fixed their focus to a squirrel, which was modestly waiting at the bottom of the tree, wishing to be respectful. The eyes took a fleeting glance around, to make sure nobeast was around, and then stepped forwards.

'Kara.' it spoke, and its voice was warm and melodious, like a bird singing unto the rising sun, and heralding the new day, 'Kara.'

The speaker, however, was far from beautiful. The fully-grown shape of a female wolf could just be made out in the darkness. A black one. This beast had dedicated her life to killing, torture, and cruelty, all subject to the cruel whim of the creature. Darkness surrounded her, she knew no light, and would never turn to it if there was any.

Karatinthe knew the correct answer to her name, and she replied in a bold whisper, 'I serve only Aranix, and help Aranix, and take orders from none but Aranix.'

The charming voice again fluttered, 'Kara, you serve only me, so you must know what goes on among my horde.' Towards the end of the statement, for it was no question, Aranix's voice grew less kind, and as the eyes moved slowly forward, Karatinthe took a small step back.

'Mistress,' she began, 'the hordes are restless; they need to move. Has Your Mightiness consulted Nightclaw yet?'

Nightclaw was an old fox, a mean and cunning one too, as are most foxes, but Nightclaw upheld the powers of the seer. This was unusual in male foxes, and at times the albino fox only stated the obvious, but at other moments he mysterious told truths, or fell into strange trances for days, and emerged with strange new information.

'Why, no, Kara. I will but...' Karatinthe feared what came after, and held her breath, 'But, I also need another scout. Assign one for me, someone who is nimble, a stoat or a weasel perhaps... Nay, use a ferret!'

Karatinthe let out a sign of relief at this. She had feared the worst, and the worst had not come. She thought what ferrets they had.

'There is only Wirda, Gangtooth, Skullbash or Firebrand left. The others were killed in that crow ambush...' Karatinthe trailed off. She knew her leader did not like to be reminded of losses and failures. Seeing the wolf motionless, however, encouraged her slightly, and lead her on, 'Gangtooth is too old; he would never make the distance in the time. Firebrand, she is too reckless, she'd do something crazy like try to attack single handed, Skullbash is just plain stupid, he can't tell his left paw from his right, so that leaves Wirda, I guess she'd be okay.'

'Wirda? Yes, yes, now go.'

'When does it please You Mightiness for me to tell Wirda?'

'Whenever!' snapped Aranix, her tones becoming icy with impatience, 'Now leave! Get out of my site, worthless trash!' She hissed.

-------------

All was going well at Redwall. Unaware of the danger close by, the residents had invited the guests at the will of the Abbess, so everyone in Mossflower was to be there.

On the morrow, at midday, the bell would peal out a welcome, and everyone within hearing range, that is to say, the hole of Mossflower. Friar Bellows had however, stated that if any Long Patrol hares were within Mossflower borders, then he would personally keep them out of Redwall's kitchens with his ladle. With Skipper laughing, he added, that any hungry otters venturing near for a quick taste of hotroot soup before the meal, then that beast would be given the same treatment.

Skipper gave a look of mock anger, and had cried, 'Did ye 'ear that messmates? Ole Bellows ain't lettin' us 'ave no good 'otroot soup afore the feast! Let's get 'im!'

However, Mara's huge paw had bowled Skipper over before he could move, and with a quick wink at him said, 'Can't be having any soup? It'll do you good, Skip. Now if you don't mind, there is a visitor for you here.'

Skipper Thrugg looked around, and then followed Mara out to the gatehouse, and upon reaching it, his voice rang out with joy.

'Rocagnus?'

A large falcon sat upon the gatehouse armchair, amid all the clutter and scrapings. 'Thrugg, me bonny riverdog, ach, 'tis good tae see ye 'gain!'

The falcon began preening its wing feathers quickly, and Mara noticed a slight bump in the wing bone.

'Sir,' she said mildly, 'Are you hurt?'

'Nay, lassie, bless ye fer askin'' Rocagnus said, and Mara looked quite surprised at being called "lassie", ''Tis an old wound, one Ah got in mah younger days.' He winked at Skipper, who seemed to know what it was all about.

'Anyway, Rocagnus, my beautiful bird friend, let's get to business. Surely ye didn't travel all the way down from the North Mountains just to see me?'

'Ach, 'tain't far when yeh've got wings like me. Ah'm the Laird now, see, me faither passed on a wee while ago, last autumn --'

Mara felt a fresh wave of pity flooding over her.

'I'm sorry about that Mister Rocagnus.'

'Ach, whit are ye sorry aboot? 'Tisn't your fault 'tis the course of nature right enough. Things live then they die, and, sure, Ah loved me dad, but I've got over it.'

Both Thrugg and Mara, however, could see that the falcon had not got over the death of his father. Tears were springing to his eyes, so Skipper Thrugg quickly changed the subject.

'So, matey, ye were saying something about why you came?'

'Weell, Ah was gooing tae visit yeh, hark, bit on the wah Ah met some frightful vermin. Ach, me and mah braw warriors soon sorted tha' oot! Slaughtered aboot four-score o' their num'er, but they seemed tae keep comin' right back at us. Nary a dent made in their numbers. Worse than the crows, Kreeh! Wingfire got slayed, but most of us escaped alive, few cuts and scrapes, yeh ken, but nothin' tae worry o'er. Trouble is, them beasts is headed towards yer Abbey, so Ah've been thinkin', the least tae do is help the braw beasties. So Ah wing't o'er here tae see if Ah could help? Mah falcons are keepin' a watch on the vermin, but I brung Tammbeak. 'Member Tamm, Thrugg?'

The Otter Chieftain had been listening carefully to the chain of events, musing over them, and didn't answer the question until Tammbeak flew in through the open Gatehouse door, and said, 'Ah, me bonny riverdog! Remember me?'

This snapped Skipper out of his trance as he said, 'Aye, messmates, I sure do! I was just thinkin' then, if a horde can face losing eighty then we had better watch out. Call the elders, and Samkin, Arula, and see if you can get a-hold of Log-a-Log, will ye, Rocagnus?'

The falcon gave one last call in agreement, and flew, with Tammbeak, out of the door. Mara had already gone, summoning the elders, and the Warrior.

A/N - Okay, people, R&R, otherwise I may completely lose inspiration and stop writing! You wouldn't like that, now, would you?