Authors note: Sorry I have not posted for a while, but the Internet decided to disappear, so this was the first chance I had to get on it.

I am also looking for a proofreader, so any offers would be gratefully accepted.

Disclaimer: You should know by now the Redwall is not mine. Any mistakes are made through my stupidity.

Prisoners

The air was warm and sticky, the sky overcast and grey. The warm breeze did nothing to help the situation.

If one was to wander down to that particular stream bank at this part of the afternoon, they would not see anything out of the ordinary. The stream babbled and sang its way past a weeping willow, its long fonds swaying in the water. The bank was carpeted with grass and late spring flowers; daisies, cow parsley and dandelions. It was a pretty scene, but one repeated often throughout the woodlands. Nothing was there to mark it out as special.

"Ow, get off my tail Taggan!"

"I'm not on your tail; you're sitting on my paw!"

"I am not you great liar!"

"Liar? LIAR! You great addlebrain!"

"Snotnose!"

"Fatbelly!"

"Snaggletooth!"

The voices emanated from a large lilac bush, surrounded by long grass and nettles, but with a swathe cut into the grass to show where three beats had scuttled into hiding. The argument continued, the voices noting their displeasure with the weather, their position, the people who'd sent them out here but most of all, each other.

"Be quiet, both of you!" another voice broke in, sharp with annoyance. "I don't know why they send you both out on patrol at the same time, you make more noise that a nestful of magpies!"

There followed a long and rather sulky silence, punctuated by a few whispered insults and the sound a beast heaving a great sigh of resignation.

Suddenly, there was a sharp hiss and an arrow flew into the bush where the beats were hidden. This was swiftly followed by a second and then a third. There was a brief shriek of pain and then silence. A dark figure lifted their bow and nodded in grim satisfaction, before speeding away through the treetops.

The Abbot gazed sadly around his beloved Abbey. The orchards, which his creatures had tended with such loving care, were now stripped of all their fruit and stood, leaves turning prematurely red and brown and falling to the ground where they lay, in great crunching piles. The red sandstone, whose colour had so often reminded him of the beautiful red of the sunset, now gave off an unmistakable aura of blood and fear. Despite the warm air, he shuddered and pulled his dirty and ragged habit tighter about him.

A scrawny rat overseer aimed a hard kick at him, striking him on the legs and calling him to stumble and fall. The rat stood over him, cracking a long, cruel whip and kicking the prone form of the mouse again.

"No stopping! Wait until yer all in the enclosure, then you an all get a good night's sleep! D'you 'ear me! DO YOU?" Dealing the Father Abbot a final savage kick, he turned, leaving the old squirrel to struggle back to his feet on his own. Several Abbeybeasts helped him up, casting worried glances in the direction of the rat, 'lest he turn around.

They finally reached the wood structure the stood in a corner of the Abbey walls, close to the pond. It amused Tehera to let them be able to see water, so cold, so inviting, but not be able to reach it, to be able to stretch a paw out and touch the wet mud on it's banks, but not be able to reach the clean water.

Or so she thought.

In truth, no Redwallers even thought of trying to drink from the now polluted water. Too many creatures had died or been thrown in there for them ever to want to even touch it again. They sat, despairing and alone, imprisoned within their own Abbey as darkness crept in over the horizon.

Something happened, however, when the dying sun's final rays disappeared over the dark horizon. The atmosphere, which before had been so depressed and sad, now tensed, as if stretched. Some of the more strong and hardy beasts moved to the edges of the cage, keeping watch.

Everybeast looked up, searching and waiting for something. They were soon rewarded.

A small shape darted across the sky and swooped down to land on the wooden bars of the cage. A small robin, with a bright red belly and brown wings, which fluttered and twitched as he gave his message and when it had been delivered, he flew quickly off, not wanting to stay a moment longer than necessary.

"The Corim send word that the fox has been sending out more and more patrols, her began "and they are not all looking for them. Some of the vermin have been sent to round up any woodlanders that they might find, to bring back to Redwall as slaves."

A gasp of horror went around the gathered creatures. A young clenched his paws fiercely "Woodlanders enslaved? The dirty vermin? How dare they!"

"Calm yourself, Ade," the Father Abbot said in his kind, warm voice "Carry on, Chubb."

The robin coughed and continued "Harrumph. They say that none have been found as yet, the Corim are doing all they can to conceal them, but they are hard pressed, after all, there are only twoscore of them at best to spread around the woodland. Mother Tamlin says that you must help anybeast from the woodlands who is sent here to work."

"Of course we shall. Is there any other news?" the Abbot asked, anxiously.

"The Corim suggest that you start to hoard weapons and food, that is all." With a final cough, he flitted away through the sky.

"W-what does that mean, Father Abbot?" the quavering voice of Old Modge, the gatekeeper queried.

"It means," Ade, the otter who had interrupted earlier, replied for the Abbot, "that we're getting out soon , mates."

That night, they fell asleep with hope, for the first time in a season.

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