Matthias groaned as he awakened. Today was the day when the Redwallers were due to learn about the current circumstances. He did not want to have to tell them, but it was necessary they know of the looming threat.

It appeared that Cornflower was already up and about, as she was no longer in bed. In fact, it appeared he had overslept. Lots of noise came from the outside, and lots of creatures seemed to be moving about.

A knock came to the door. "Mattimeo, is that you again?" Matthias called. He was always a bit cranky when he first woke up.

The door opened and it was the Abbot. Matthias was flustered. "Oh, goodness! I'm sorry, Father Abbot!" Matthias scrambled around, trying to tidy his chamber and threw his habit on.

Abbot Carnlo chuckled. "It's alright, Matthias, I just came to tell you we're about to announce the bad news to the Redwallers."

"Oh," Matthias said. "I'll be out in a minute, Father Abbot!"

Another chuckle issued from the Abbot's mouth. "Carnlo, Matthias! Don't call me Father Abbot! You're older than me!"

Matthias was still hurrying around distractedly. "Okay, Father Abbot! Just a moment!"

The Abbot laughed and left the room.

Matthias kept his word, and within a minute he was dressed and out of the room. The Abbot was waiting just outside his room, and together they walked to Cavern Hole, where all the Redwallers were headed.

In ten minutes, every Redwaller was packed tightly into Cavern Hole. The Abbot and Matthias sat at the head of the table next to Mattimeo, Constance, Orlando, Cornflower, and Tess Churchmouse, the only other creatures who knew.

Abbot Carnlo hit a gavel on the table to end the chatter amongst the Redwallers. He spoke loudly so all could hear. "We are gathered today to discuss a most terrible circumstance that has come upon our Abbey and the whole of Mossflower Wood."

He paused before continuing. "The former Redwall mice Bhriina and Covodre have assembled a large horde of vermin and are scheming to take control of our Abbey."

Gasps came from nearly every creature in Cavern Hole.

"How is this so?"

"Surely not!"

"How terrible!"

Basil Stag Hare could be heard shouting. "How dare they, the rogues! Let me at 'em!"

The Abbot pounded his oaken gavel thrice more. "Hush, Redwallers! We shall take all necessary precautions against this threat! War training commences today!"

Once more the Redwallers began to talk and worry, and the poor Abbot had to bang his gavel again. "If you were invited to the war council, stay here. All others, return to your previous business! We will discuss this again soon!"

Most of the Redwallers filed out of the room, but several remained. They were to be the Redwall Council of Warfare, and they were: the Abbot, Matthias and Mattimeo, Constance and Orlando, Basil Stag Hare, Jess Squirrel, Winifred Otter, Ambrose Spike and Jabez Stump, the Foremole, Log-a-Log Flugg, Sir Harry the Muse, Sister May, and Brother Rufus.

"We fourteen are the Redwall Council of Warfare, and, during this endeavour, we shall serve as the leaders of the Abbey in its inevitable fight with Bhriina," the Abbot said.

"I am solely here as the leader of the Order of Redwall Mice, and I know little of conflict. The leader of Redwall during this time is to be Mattimeo the Warrior, with assistance from his father, Constance, and Orlando the Axe."

"Basil, Winifred, and Jess will manage the training of the Redwallers in simple warfare, such as spear-throwing, arrow-firing, and sword-wielding. Younger Redwallers are to be taught how to use slings. Foremole, you and your team are to be in charge of all necessary construction and excavating we may need, and you, Log-a-Log, will help him."

"Sir Harry and the Sparra warriors will be tasked with any spying mission or reconnaissance endeavour that is necessary, Sister May and Brother Rufus will be in charge of healing the wounded and making sure that the infirmary is in top shape. Ambrose and Jabez will be checking every inch of the Abbey to make sure everything is stable and just, so that the attackers will have no advantages. Do I have any questions?"

Foremole piped up. "Burr aye, oi've got ee a gurt good question, F'ther Abb't! Did Matthias n' Mattimeo zurr tell ee all o' ee speech?"

"Every word of it, Foremole," the Abbot said, keeping a straight face the entire time, which gave even more laughs to the Council.

Once the Council members had finished laughing, the Abbot finished. "Any last questions? No? Well, get to work! We have a lot to accomplish!"

The afternoon of this day was one of the busiest in the history of the Abbey. Nobeast was left out of the haul, including the youngest Dibbun to the oldest creature. Firstly, the Sparra warriors set off to Salamandastron, which was not particularly a good thing around the Abbey, for they had lost several helping paws.

Matthias, Mattimeo, Constance, and Orlando had decided to walk around the Abbey to check on all of the groups and make sure they were doing their jobs properly. First, they inspected the Foremole's and the Log-a-Log's work. The Guosim shrews were constructing various defense tools out of wood, such as ladders and gates. The Foremole's team was busy digging trenches outside the Abbey grounds in case they were needed. Gaffer, Jarge, and Loamdog could be heard arguing about who crafted the best trenches.

"Moine's th' best, oi tell 'ee!"

"No, et's moine! Gurr, just look at th' thing!"

"Ho zurr, oi obviously dig th' best trenchers round hurr!"

Sister May and Brother Rufus were doing a splendid job tidying the infirmary and making it the most effective it could be. They added new beds without it becoming overly cramped, and restocked every medicine cabinet. Brother Dan and Sister Agnes were gathering herbs in the nearby woods for the infirmary, as well.

Jabez Stump and Ambrose Spike were found in a hallway on their way to examine a loose piece of stone in the frame of the Abbey, but they had obviously been slacking a bit due to the fact that they both carried flasks of damson wine and October ale. Orlando stayed to make sure the hedgehogs were on task.

Winifred was directing the Redwallers in the art of spear-throwing. Targets were drawn crudely on seed bags that hung from wooden poles. Some of the defenders were very good at it, and quite accurate, but others failed to hit it even once.

Basil Stag Hare was teaching Cheek how to shoot an arrow, and Jess was teaching Sam how to properly wield a sword. Both of the former Dibbuns were now old enough to help. Rollo Bankvole insisted to join them, but Cornflower dragged him back into the Abbey. Cheek turned out to be a right good archer, with encouragement from Basil, of course.

"Come on Cheek, ma' boy! Hit the target, wot! Bull's eye! Good job, me bucko, wot!"

Sam was doing just as well with his sword, and soon, he needed no guidance from his mother. Many poor seed bags were cut by his blade, Jess noted.

A large, hearty dinner was served that night after all of the Redwallers hard work. October ale was aplenty, and warming soups were served to all. Much to the disappointment of the Dibbuns, nothing sugary was to be served, for it was a serious time and strength needed to be built. When Rollo reached for a flask of damson wine, Tess smacked his paw. "That is not cordial, Baby Rollo!" Rollo was not happy with being called Baby one bit, and he wouldn't talk for the rest of the meal.

All through their work, and their dinner, the Redwallers never noticed the spies. Stukkleg the stoat and Jiber the rat were watching for the better part of the afternoon through two small holes in the red sandstone bricks on the side of the Abbey that had not been checked by Jabez and Ambrose yet.

"How much do ya wager we could pilfer some o' them vittles, Stukkleg?"

Stukkleg was getting immensely tired of the rat. "Will you hush, you buffoon? We could be caught! Do you want that?"

As if on perfect timing, a great owl came swooping down upon them, and grabbed the two by their necks, one in each claw. He flew back up into the Abbey with the struggling vermin, and landed right next to the dinner table in the Great Hall.

"Lookie here at what I did find,

Two little wretches, shall I tear out their eyes?

Or, how much of their skin would you like me to grind?

But if you be nice, we can pelt them with pies!"

Sir Harry was never known to say anything that was not in poem form. It was his art form, and the way he lived.

Mattimeo strode up to the vermin with his sword flashing, and pointed it right at the rat's throat. "Who are you and why are you here, scum?"

The rat was trying to speak, but spluttering was all that came out due to the owl talons that still grasped his neck.

Mattimeo sighed. "Release them!"

The two vermin fell to the floor, panting, although Jiber made much more of a show about it, crawling and gasping, and finally slinging on to Mattimeo's footpaw. "You've saved me, kind sir! Would you…" but he was cut off in midsentence when Mattimeo swung his sword very near to the rat's fat face.

At this moment, Sam Squirrel walked up to the stoat with his new sword and pointed it right at the neck, just like Mattimeo had. The two Redwallers were nearly the same age, with Sam being a bit older, but Mattimeo had much more experience and seemed decades older.

Mattimeo shouted again. "I said, who are you? And why are you here?"

The rat blubbered on and on. "We wouldn't hurt nobody nohow! Please don't kill us, mister mouse! Just let us go free, mouse, we'll never come here 'gain, I promise!"

The stoat did not say a word. Matthias nodded to Sam and they quickly switched vermin. Now, Mattimeo held his sword at the stoat's neck. "Maybe you'll be more cooperative, stoat! Who are you, and where have you come from?"

Stukkleg remained defiantly silent, while Jiber continued sobbing. Mattimeo became immensely irritated, and a rush of anger flowed through his entire being. He screamed now. "WHO ARE YOU PATHETIC WRETCHES?"

The Redwallers watched on in awe at their young Warrior. He was apparently not one to tangle with at all.

"I WILL SLAY YOU IF YOU DO NOT ANSWER ME, STOAT!" And he meant it. His word was cutting deeper into Stukkleg's flesh and a drop of blood dripped out onto the sword.

The stoat finally gave in. "We are spies for the Coarc."

Mattimeo released his hold on the sword slightly. "Who are the Coarc?"

The stoat began to say "The Coalition of Anti-Redwall Corsairs", but halfway through the statement, the rat moved to leap on the stoat, so as not to blow their cover. In doing so, however, his arm caught on Sam's sword, and in a blur, the rat's entire right paw lay bloody on the stone floor.

Jiber screamed in horror. "LOOK WHAT YOU'VE DONE, SQUIRREL! MY PAW!"

No one paid any attention to the rat. In the background, the Abbot quietly told Sister May to stand down, because it was likely no medical treatment would be needed.

Mattimeo did not move off of Stukkleg. "How long have you been here?"

Stukkleg answered readily at the sight of his fellow hordebeast with only one paw. "Five hours, I reckon, maybe longer?"

He pushed the sword harder. "And what did you hear?"

"Oh, it was hard to hear anything with ole loudmouth over here!"

Mattimeo was angrier every second. "That's not what I asked!"

Stukkleg gulped. "Erm, uhh, oh, I saw some trainin'. You Redwallers must be preparin' for some sort o' fight, I reckon…"

"One last thing!" Mattimeo shouted. "Who sent you here?"

The stoat's response was shocking to all. "Bhriina, of course."

The rat began to scream intensely at this comrade. "NOOOO! YOU FOOL! SHE WILL KILL US NOW! WHAT ARE YOU THINKING?"

Mattimeo yelled back at the stupid rat. "I could do it for her!"

This was the point at which Matthias intervened. He strode up with his own sword and pushed Mattimeo aside, saying, "There is no need to kill, my son."

He put a footpaw down hard upon the rat's back and pointed his sword between the stoat's eyes. "I want you two to get out of here. And I want you to never come back? Go in the opposite way from whence you came. Are we understood?" he asked, leaning down to the rat.

Both of them moaned a "yes" and they were heaved out of the Abbey by Matthias and Sam. The rat and stoat went running south as fast as their legs could carry them, the rat's stub of an arm flailing in the evening breeze.

Brother Rufus cleaned up the disembodied paw while the Dibbuns' eyes were shielded by their mothers. Most of the old mousewives and Dibbuns hurried off to bed, and soon only the Council members were left in the Great Hall.

The Foremole was agitated. "You'm shudd send a gurt spy to them, Matthias!"

Matthias looked at the mole. "Do you want to do it?"

Foremole went silent and twiddled his claws.

"Well, no use standing about in here. Go on, friends, go to sleep," the Abbot said.

Sister Rose and Brother Sedge were put on guard duty by Mattimeo just as an extra precaution, and when they grew tired, Orlando and Auma would fill in for them.

Most of the Redwallers were restless and scared, including Matthias and Mattimeo.

Stukkleg and Jiber ran along the road until they reached the camp. They continued to run even as they entered it, all the way up the hill past hundreds of onlooking vermin.

They reached Bhriina's tent, and Jiber was first to talk, as usual. "Mi…Mil…Milady!"

Bhriina's head popped out of the tent. "What?"

What came out of their incompetent mouths was a stream of different stories. Stukkleg told mostly the truth, while Jiber made everything seem a hundred times more extravagant than it actually had been.

"Alright!" yelled Bhriina, irritably. "Come in and tell the story more slowly! And this is only because I heard mention of those warriors!"

When they sat down at Bhriina's table, Jiber went off at once. "Oh, Milady, 'twas terrible! This great big owl comes a'swoopin' down and grabs us! I thought we was dead for sure! We were captured by th' vile Redwall beasts, an' the warriors held their swords on us, they did, 'twas horrible! This likkle squirrel did me paw a right job, he did!"

Bhriina was obviously displeased as she glanced towards Jiber's no-pawed arm. "Do you seriously mean to tell me that you were captured while spying? And that you lost your paw to a young squirrel and barely escaped with your life?"

Jiber nodded, and under the table Bhriina shoved her dagger through the rat's gut, so hard that it protruded from the opposite side of his body.

"M…M…Milady?" the rat spluttered, before falling facedown and stone cold dead onto the table. While Stukkleg showed no outward fear, inside he was trembling.

Bhriina turned to Stukkleg. "How were you captured?"

"This fool was bein' louder n' all get out, Milady, complainin' and whinin' about bein' hungry n' all that, so I told him to shush, and this owl swoops down and gets us because he heard the fool talkin'. So, the younger of the mouse warriors, Matmo, or somethin' like that, and some squirrel puts their swords on us. Eventually they let us go, after they forced the fool into tellin' em who we were and that we were sent by you," Stukkleg explained, truthful about everything except for the fact that he was the one who explained who they were and who sent them.

Bhriina rapped her fingers on the table. "Good."

Stukkleg was completely confused. "Good, Milady?"

"Yes, you simpleton, good! Did he ever say where our camp was?"

Stukkleg shook his head. "Nope. Plus that Mathas or whatever said to go away and never come back, and go in the opposite way that we came from."

Bhriina was satisfied. "See? This is very good! Now they will think our camp is to the north, and that I am relying upon simple spies to do my work."

Stukkleg wasn't very happy about the "simple spies" bit, but he kept his mouth shut.

The mouse questioned the stoat once more. "Did you actually learn anything spying?"

"Oh, yes, Milady, I learned what I could hear over the yammerin' of this blunderer. They're tryin' to prepare for war, so they certainly know we're comin'. The sad excuses for soldiers I saw could hardly even shoot an arrow at a target, Milady!" he explained.

Bhriina smiled. "Exactly as I predicted. They're weak, Stukkleg, the whole lot of them, besides the two mice and those stripedogs," she said, using the vermin term for 'badger'.

Bhriina decided that she liked the blind loyalty of this stoat. "Stukkleg, you are being added to my list of lieutenants. We have no Lieutenant of Spies, and that shall be you. From now on, you will manage all spying and recon we need. Understood, soldier?"

Lieutenant Stukkleg nodded.

"Move your things to an available tent on the top of the hill, Lieutenant," Bhriina said, and the stoat walked off down to the centre of the hill to gather his things.

Inwardly Bhriina knew it was a good decision, but she also knew that nine lieutenants was a lot to handle, and they might be able to defeat her if they worked together. She decided to eliminate the most rebellious of the lieutenants, Fishlent, the ermine corsair from the north. He was crafty, and she knew his crew would never believe that his death was an accident. An internal conflict was about to occur in the camp of the Coarc.

At this moment Covodre entered the tent with a fresh, steaming quail, ready to eat. "Thank you, Covodre, this looks delicious!" Normally, a mouse would not enjoy eating meat in such a fashion, but their two twisted minds allowed them to eat it with ease.

During their meal, Bhriina explained the spies getting captured and how she had made Stukkleg a new lieutenant.

Covodre was skeptical. "Now you have nine lieutenants. Ten, if you count me. That's a lot to handle, dear. Are you sure you can manage it?"

"We're eliminating the ermine, Fishlent, and his crew if they stay loyal to him," she explained to her husband. "I have no need for that corsair."

"Why don't you get rid of the pirate, Hookhound? He's stupid, at least Fishlent knows what he's doing and isn't blindly dumb," Covodre questioned.

Bhriina would've lashed out at anyone else for defying her direct decision, but this was Covodre. She could explain her reasoning. "That's just it. Hookhound isn't smart enough to conspire against me. That Fishlent is a crafty one, though. I'll bet he's already plotting."

Covodre stared at his wife. For a lady, she wasn't fragile at all. She was hard, and tough as nails. That was why he loved her.

For the rest of the night, they dreamed of the imminent civil conflict.