THE CRIMSON BADGER - Chapter Nineteen

Arlyn, Alex and Monty took a roundabout way back to the south wallgate, so that they could view more of Urthblood's troops as they drilled. Along this route they passed squads of shrews, hedgehogs, rats and ferrets. Although the Redwallers didn't stop to watch any of them, the woodlanders moseyed along slowly so that they could get one last good eyeful of the Northlanders' battle skills before returning to the Abbey. The swordfox Tolar conducted them through the field of mock warfare, gracious as an escort but as formally aloof and unsparing of idle pleasantries as his badger master.

Montybank twiddled at his whiskers with one paw as they passed the ferret regiment. "Fanatics!" the otter Skipper declared to old Arlyn, waving a flipper toward all the fighting beasts around them. "Creatures don't practice like this just t' keep up appearances. An' it goes beyond stayin' sharp. These're fanatics, plain 'n' simple. Not just th' vermin either, but even th' mice an' the others too ... 'specially th' shrews!"

"Actually," Mina said from behind him, where she walked with Alex, "we prefer to be called 'dedicated.'"

Monty glanced back at the squirrel Lady, sputtering with chagrin. "Profuse pardons, ma'am. Wasn't referrin' to you, o' course."

"Don't be too quick to apologize, my friend," Mina said to the otter. "It's not the first time we've been called fanatics, and I doubt it will be the last. But I assure you, up north the Gawtrybe are widely held to be the best - or worst - of them all." She smiled. "Even the shrews have nothing on us."

They were approaching the wallgate when the mellow bonging of the Methuselah and Matthias bells announced the start of the lunch hour. Monty immediately perked up, his faux pas with Lady Mina forgotten at the prosect of another imminent Redwall repast.

"Ahh, another hearty midday meal awaits!" he exclaimed. "Hope our ol' Friar has somethin' special in store fer alla us mornin' warriors! I could eat four trout an' a badger!"

Arlyn gave a smirk. "I don't think Lord Urthblood would take too kindly to your choice of entree, and Maura will wallop you if you even try to put her on your plate!"

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Neither badger nor trout was on the menu that day, but Montybank had no cause for complaint. The returning Redwallers were greeted with a veritable feast of thick Mossflower vegetable stew, spicy shrimp and hotroot soup, a heaping platter of lettuce-and-leek pasties, and a king-sized deeper'n'ever pie. The explanation for this surfeit of edible riches was simple: Friar Hugh had worked so hard that morning making extra bread for Urthblood's soldiers that the other Abbeybeasts felt it only fair that they lend a paw in preparing the midday meal. The deep tater 'n' turnip 'n' beetroot pie was courtesy of the moles, naturally, while Monty's otters had done him proud in his absence with their spicy soup specialty. There had been more than a few curt words that morning as moles and otters competed for kitchen space, but by some miracle both groups had managed to complete their offerings by lunchtime.

Monty could very easily have polished off half the deeper'n'ever pie all by himself, but he restrained himself to a mere two heaping platefuls, when he saw the multi-tiered quince crumble with butter rum cream that was waiting for dessert. "Gotta save some room in me stomach pouch fer that," he announced to nobeast in particular. "Too much effort gone inta that wunnerful crumble t' waste it by not wastin' any of it on me!" And so enough of the moles' entree was spared the otter's ravages for all the woodlanders to have as much as they wanted.

The day was too glorious to even consider eating indoors, so lunch was served out on the lawns once more. Of Urthblood's forces, only Machus, Mina and the Badger Lord himself took their meal inside the Abbey; all the other captains remained outside the wall with their troops.

Abbess Vanessa, making her first appearance since recovering from her hangover, passed Maura as they were getting seated. The badger matriarch had spent all morning with Machus and Urthblood, and Vanessa was curious as to whether her friend had learned anything useful.

"I learned there's a lot more to running an army than I'd ever realized," Maura said. "Reports on every soldier in that army, every weapon carried between them, every scrap of food in their packs and stitch of clothing on their backs, not to mention every step of their journey from the Northlands to Redwall ... my head is swimming! And they didn't even finish! They're going back for more after lunch." She glanced around furtively. "I don't want to go into any more detail right now, but I'll fill you in fully when we can get together later this evening. For now, I'm off to help Sister Aurelia with the little ones. Looking after those sweet devils can run a beast ragged sometimes, but it'll be a pleasant break after this morning. Playing mother I'm good at, but I wasn't cut out for military administration!"

Vanessa nodded and smiled, in case any of their guests were looking their way. "So, nothing pressing?"

"No. Nothing that can't keep 'til tonight." Maura started off toward the children's table, where Sister Aurelia was striving to keep her charges orderly. "Looks like we've got a good spread this time. Let me go make sure more ends up in our little ones' mouths than on the lawn!"

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Conversation around the head table was limited to small talk. With Urthblood and Machus seated in their midst, Arlyn and Monty and Alex were guarded in their comments about their observations of Urthblood's army. The retired Abbot could be particularly diplomatic, and the others let Arlyn do most of the talking. He had a perfect manner, keeping a friendly face as he complimented the badger warrior on the skill of his Northland troops. His tone was most innocent and ingenuous, betraying nothing of the close scrutiny that had been the real reason for their tour of the army. A couple of times he came perilously close to coming off like a country bumpkin (at least to his fellow Redwallers, who knew that Arlyn was still sharp for his age), but his advanced seasons allowed him to get by with the ploy in a way that none of the other Abbey leaders could have.

Alex and Lady Mina were taking their lunch off with the other squirrels, while Maura helped Sister Aurelia with the children. They had their paws full this day; like Cyril, most of the younger Abbeydwellers had spent some time that morning up on the walltop, and the sight of so many soldierbeasts going through their battle drills had the little ones all riled up. Maura and Aurelia barely had the opportunity for two bites between them, their rambunctious charges keeping them thoroughly occupied, racing away from their table and all across the lawns willy-nilly. After a while they gave up trying, content to sit and keep a watchful eye from their bench. With all the vermin captains outside, there really wasn't any danger to guard against. So long as the youngsters didn't bother any of their elders or make a real nuisance of themselves, the two guardians gave them free rein to tumble about and play mock soldier as they pleased.

As dessert was being served, about half the squirrels detached from their main group and headed off toward the east grounds. Little Droge and Cuffy, who'd been cavorting near the Mossflower Patrol as they ate, suddenly came hurrying back to their playmates.

"Tourment!" Droge yelled with glee. "There's gonna be a tourment!"

Maura looked severely down at her number-one troublemaker. "You've given us all enough torment for one day. No more, please!"

The young hedgehog stared blankly at her for a few seconds, then laughed hysterically. "You're funny, Mother Maura! No, there's gonna be a archry tourment, 'tween th' squirrels." Droge held up his paws and sighted along an imaginary bow and arrow. "Thhwum!" he mouthed, releasing his invisible shaft.

"Well, that should be fun," Aurelia said. "Alex has been wanting to show off his aim ever since Lord Urthblood arrived. It's about time."

Maura gazed across the lawns to where Lady Mina still sat with the remaining squirrels. "Something tells me that Lord Urthblood isn't the one Alex is trying to impress."

"Well, Alex had better not let Elmwood or any of the others show him up, if that's his plan for winning Lady Mina."

Maura chuckled . "If you ask me, they've won each other already. Only thing they haven't done yet is announce the wedding date. Besides, when's the last time Alexander let anybeast best him at a round of target practice?"

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Most of the Abbey turned out to watch the archery display on the east lawns. While a number of Redwallers were adept with bow and arrow, the squirrels of the Forest Patrol were the undisputed masters and in a class by themselves, and this afternoon was for them alone. Even Machus and Urthblood postponed their briefing to observe the tournament, much to Maura's relief.

Targets were set up against the inside of the north wall, positioned so that the archers could stand as near or as far as they wished. The summer sun was at its golden full, barely having begun the descent from its zenith, bathing the Abbey grounds in brilliant sunshine and affording perfect illumination for the games at paw. The air down here on the lawns held only the faintest breath of a breeze. A better day for flying shafts had never been made.

Lady Mina was granted special leave by the Abbess - at Alexander's insistance - to take up her bow and quiver for this special occasion. Alex had offered the squirrel Lady free use of any weaponry of the Mossflower Patrol, but Mina was firm that she could only use her own. Rather than force Mina to miss out on the contest, Vanessa allowed her to reclaim her arms from the otters guarding the south gate, who were holding them while she stayed in Redwall.

Every member of the Patrols took at least one turn on the shooting line. Alexander took several, and none of his fellow squirrels, not even Elmwood, could match their chief's skill with the longbow. He scored several bull's-eyes, and never did his shots stray far from the center of the target.

Lady Mina sat out the first rounds, content to observe and assess the skill of the Redwall archers. Finally, after every squirrel of the Patrols had a chance to demonstrate its ability, Alex waved for Mina to come over and join him at the line.

"I hope we haven't intimidated you," he said against the smattering of applause from the ranks of impressed Abbeydwellers. Secretly, he hoped he'd impressed Lady Mina just as much. "I'd really like to see what you can do with your bow. Don't worry about trying to stack up against us ... just do the best you can. Remember, we're all friends here."

Mina smiled coyly. "Oh, I wouldn't try to compete at your level. But I'd like to try something different."

"Oh? Such as?"

"Well, you all shoot very nicely standing neatly on a line, at an unmoving target, when you've got all the time in the world to line up your shot and get yourselves all set. I was wondering how well you'd do under different circumstances. In the midst of battle, targets don't stand still and wait for you to get comfortable while you're gauging your shot."

"No, I suppose not," Alex admitted uncertainly, not sure what Mina was getting at. "So what did you have in mind?"

"In the Northlands, we shoot for speed as well as accuracy." Mina hefted her longbow. "We start with an unstrung bow. The challenge is to make it battle ready as quickly as possible, and then to launch as many shafts as accurately as we can on top of that. If you're game, perhaps you and I can try a round the Northlands way."

"Hmm ... that sounds interesting. I've never shot that way before, but sure, I'm game. You're our guest, after all."

Alexander traded his bow for another which was unstrung. He and Lady Mina took their places at the shooting line, each with a ready bowstring and a full quiver. Elmwood served as the starting official and judge, who would tell them when to begin and keep track of the count and accuracy of the shots.

Alex knelt on one knee, as he saw Mina doing. "Just string and shoot, as quickly as I can? That's it?"

Mina nodded. "We each have twelve arrows. We'll shoot until they're all used up. Whoever empties their quiver first is the winner in the speed category. Then we'll look at the targets, to see whose aim was better. Elmwood will tally the two together, to determine the winner."

Standing on the sideline, Elmwood held up his pad and inked stylus. "All set here, M'Lady. Whenever you're ready."

Alexander and Mina nodded at each other, paws on their unstrung bows. "Make the call, Elmwood," Alex said.

"Okay. Ready ... set ... go!"

What happened next would be talked about for generations of Redwallers to come. The two squirrels reached for their bowstrings as one. But Mina's, which Alex had not inspected closely, ended in a pair of iron caps that allowed her to literally snap the string into place at the proper tension, while Alex had to wrap his cord around each end of his bow in the traditional manner. He was still finishing his first end as Mina set her first arrow to her string and shot.

The bowstring twanged. Even as Mina's arrow sank into the bull's-eye of her target, she was pulling out her second shaft and setting it to her string. She loosed it while Alex frantically worked to get his bow strung. He glanced up just long enough to see her second arrow land in the target so close to the first that it shaved the guide feathers of its predecessor. But Mina was already reaching for her third arrow. Alex returned his attention to his task, but looked up again at a strange splintering sound he'd only heard a very few times in his life.

Mina's third shot had landed exactly atop her first in the center of the bull's-eye, shattering the first arrow to toothpicks!

And still Mina kept on, like a machine, notching her next shaft as soon as the last had left her bowstring. It was like she was in a trance, oblivious to Alex or the other creatures around her.

Alex never did finish stringing his bow. By the time Mina had let her fourth shot fly, he just settled back onto his haunches, entranced by this incredible display. Not only did he have no hope of catching up to her, but the quality of her shots would be nearly impossible for him to match. Instead, he just sat and stared, as mesmerized as any of his fellow Redwallers.

At last Mina turned to Alex, breathing heavily as if she'd been holding her breath all this time. Her quiver was empty. She'd shot a dozen arrows; three of them had shattered ones which already stood in the bull's-eye, and none had gone farther than two arrow-widths from the center. Most of the Abbeydwellers stood staring with dropped jaws.

"Alex, you've still got some arrows left," Mina observed casually, eyeing his still-full quiver.

After staring at her for a moment in disbelief, Alexander fell back onto his tail, guffawing like an idiot.

"That was ... unbelievable!" he gasped out between racks of laughter. "I've never seen ... anything ... like ... that. And there I was, telling you not to worry about keeping up with us!" Alex climbed back onto his feet, wiping tears from his eyes. "I owe you an apology. I'm so used to being the champion archer of Mossflower, it never occured to me that you might have a thing or two to show me about launching an arrow. I feel like a fool. Please accept my apology, for so underestimating your skills."

"No need to apologize, Alex," Mina said. "It was a fair challenge, and I put you in your place. That's the Gawtrybe way."

"Yes, well, if I'm ever going to visit your home up north, I'm going to have to brush up on my shooting. Do they all shoot like that where you come from?"

"My brother Marinus is better than I am. He has to be, to command the respect of all the Gawtrybe. But as for the rest ... " Mina glanced around at the assembled members of the Mossflower Patrol. "I'd say, based on what I've seen here today, that your crew could hold its own in our company if they had to. You certainly could .. as long as you weren't shooting for speed."

Alexander and the other squirrels flocked around Lady Mina for awhile, congratulations flying on her handy defeat of their ace shooter and compliments uttered over her own ability. Elmwood and a few of the others wandered over to the targets, where they just stood staring at the placement of Mina's shots.

Urthblood and Machus were just about the only ones present who took the squirrel Lady's shooting skills as a matter of course. Maura looked over at the swordfox and badger warrior. "My Lord, do you expect that from Lady Mina every time?"

"More or less," Urthblood replied.

"She's, um, very good."

"Naturally. She would not be in my service otherwise." Urthblood turned to leave. "Machus and I must resume our briefing. Are you still interested in attending us?"

In truth, Maura wasn't. But she put on her best smile without missing a beat and fell into step with them. "Of course. Orders of the Abbess, after all!"

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Lady Mina's exhibition gave the Abbey folk plenty to talk about that afternoon, so there were fewer up on the wall to watch the Urthblood's army drilling.

Cyril, however, could not pull himself away. The young mouse had even stayed on the walltop during the archery tournament, his attention split between the contest within the Abbey and the military exercises continuing without. He could not get enough of watching the Northland troops going through their paces, which he did during every spare moment between his bellringing duties.

A few paces farther along the ramparts, Brother Geoff sat with Cyrus, reading through more of the historical records. A few other Redwallers were scattered along the walltop, mostly the squirrels, otters and mice serving the current sentry rotation.

Droge and a few of the other children came running along the walkway, followed by Sister Aurelia, harried as usual by her babysitting duties. The hoglet ran past Cyril and stopped by the archive searchers. "'Scuse me, Mr. Geoff, sir?"

The recorder mouse looked up from his journal to face the waiting hedgehog. "Oh, hello, Droge! How can I help you?"

"Gotta question for you, please."

"Ask away, my spikey little friend."

"If that army," Droge tried to point over the wall, but came up short due to his shortness, "fought Cluny's army, who'da won?"

Droge had spoken his question loudly enough for all to hear. Cyril came out of his personal daydream, very interested to hear what the Abbey historian had to say on this matter. Redwall's enemies had been many over the generations, but Cluny the Scourge was the standard by which all others were measured. That wicked searat had kept Redwall under siege for most of a season, and had come closer to conquering the Abbey than any other villain they'd ever faced. It had taken the full resources of Matthias, Redwall's greatest warrior since Martin himself, to defeat Cluny, and even then it had been a close thing. It was certain that no Redwaller alive now would ever have imagined they would live to see a horde such as that outside their walls. But now, the suggestion that Urthblood's force might be even greater than that of the legendary Cluny was almost inconceivable.

Geoff pursed his lips and twitched his whiskers as he considered the unusual question. "Well," he said at length, "Urthblood's force here actually outnumbers Cluny's by a hundred or so, according to the records. You know, it had never occured to me to make such a comparison. That's a very interesting speculation, Droge. Very interesting indeed."

"So, you think Lord Urthblood's army would be victorious?" Cyril asked.

"Well, of course it's impossible to know for sure, Cyril. But yes, I do believe Urthblood's army would have the advantage ... and not just in numbers. Many of Cluny's fighters had been pressed into service against their will, and were not skilled soldiers. Every one of those beasts down there now is with Urthblood by its own choice. Their dedication and loyalty to their master is clear in the way they practice. I can't imagine there has ever been an army as formidable as the one Urthblood has assembled."

Old Arlyn had been walking along the walltop himself, and approached in time to catch the end of Geoff's comments. "Indeed, Brother Geoff," the retired Abbot said. "And speaking as one who has seen those Northlanders drilling up close, and has had a chance to discuss their ability with our own Abbey defenders, I will go you one better: I believe Urthblood's army would have swept through Cluny's horde as if it weren't even there."

"Oh. Oh, my." Geoff stood to look out over the battlements. "You really think they're that good, Father Abbot?"

Arlyn nodded. "Not to diminish the victory Matthias won, but I think Urthblood's otter regiment alone could probably have dismantled Cluny's horde quite nicely. After watching them drill, I don't think there's a force in all the lands that could stand up to them."

Geoff scratched at his ear as his gaze wandered the practice field. "It's those foxes I wonder about, Arlyn. We've seen everybeast in that army put their skills on display ... except for the foxes. Do you suppose they're not all they're cracked up to be?"

Arlyn shook his head. "I don't think so. For one thing, Warnokur says he's seen Machus in action, and his sword skills are unmatched. For another, all the other captains seem to defer to them ... some of the vermin captains even seem a little afraid of them. Notice how the foxes are constantly patrolling through the rest of the army, like a show of force to keep order in the ranks? That wouldn't work for very long if they couldn't back it up, and I have a feeling there's more than just Lord Urthblood's authority behind them. No, those swords they're wearing aren't just for show. And those troops down there know it."

"Then why haven't we seen them practicing too?" Geoff wondered.

Arlyn shrugged. "It is strange. Perhaps, for some reason, Lord Urthblood doesn't want us to see his foxes at work."

"Why ever not?" said Geoff. "They can't be any more ferocious than what we've seen already from the other troops. Unless they slay each other during their practices ..."

"Hmmm ... I think their ranks would grow a bit thin after awhile if they did things that way." Arlyn started off toward the wallsteps. "Of course, there's one very simple way to solve this particular mystery."

"Oh? How?" Geoff inquired.

"Ask them."

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Arlyn and Alexander met the swordfox as he was about to leave by the south wallgate to rejoin his troops outside.

"Hello, Machus," the old Abbot greeted. "It's well on toward suppertime. You and Lord Urthblood must have had an awful lot to talk about."

"Oh, only some of it was awful," Machus replied; it took the two Redwallers a moment to realize he'd made a joke. "But, in all earnest, there are a great many matters to which Lord Urthblood must attend for a force of this size. Most creatures could never keep all our affairs straight. He not only sees to the day-to-day running of this army, but must also plan ahead to know what our needs will be before they arise. A brilliant military mind must concern itself with logistics as well as battle strategies and tactics. Food and clothing and other supplies are as vital as weaponry and ammunition, as are the ways in which our campaigns affect goodbeasts who are not directly involved in the fighting. These are the kinds of things we have been discussing today. I think you can understand why it took us so long."

"Indeed," Alexander readily agreed. "It takes all we can do just to look after the defense needs of this Abbey. Lord Urthblood has all the Northlands to consider."

"Much more than that, if his prophecy holds true," said Machus. "Salamandastron, and the coastlands, and all of Mossflower north, south and east of Redwall. It is a great responsibility, but one to which he is equal." He held out his paw toward the squirrel. "I must rejoin my foxes now. My sword, please."

Alex was holding the Northlander's weapon, fetched down from the Abbess's study where it was kept while Machus stayed inside Redwall. He started to pass it over to the swordfox, then hesitated as if a thought had only just occured to him.

"You know, we had an opportunity to see most of Lord Urthblood's troops in action up close this morning, and even tried our skills against a few of them. And that demonstration by Lady Mina was most impressive. But, we haven't seen what you can do yet. We've heard that you are a master swordsbeast, without equal in the north. What do you say to a friendly duel, Machus? There's time enough before supper ... and after that lunch today, I've certainly got the fuel to burn."

"You against me?" Machus said incredulously. "But, you are an archerbeast, not a swordfighter."

"Oh, I can swing a sword pretty well," Alex brushed aside the fox's objection. "Relieved one of Abellon's mice of his blade earlier today, as a matter of fact."

"That he did," Arlyn readily confirmed.

"I ... don't think it's such a good idea."

"Why not?" Alex pressed. "Surely you must do some mock duelling with your fellow foxes to keep your form sharp ... not that we've seen any of that so far. I wouldn't be in their league, of course. But it would just be a playful joust, for you to show off your prowess. You could go easy on me."

"It is not necessary." Machus once more held out his paw. "Now, may I please have my sword?"

Alexander stood his ground, although he kept his manner quite innocent, determined to play this scene out as far as he could.

"Not necessary? That's an odd thing for a warrior to say. Since when has that mattered to a little friendly gameplay?"

"It's just that I would not care to have anything ... unfortunate ... happen," said Machus.

Alex narrowed his eyes. "Just what is that supposed to mean?"

At that moment Urthblood sauntered by. He paused as he drew near the trio. "Is there a problem here?" he rumbled routinely.

"We've invited Machus to a friendly little duel," Alex answered, "so that he might display some of his swordship skills, but he's refused."

"Why would an archerbeast such as yourself wish to take on a master swordsbeast?" Urthblood asked Alexander.

"Um, well ... "

The Badger Lord turned to his fox captain. "Machus, do you wish to take part in such an activity?"

"I would rather not, My Lord."

"Then the matter is settled," Urthblood said with muted finality. "Is there some reason you are withholding my captain's sword from him?"

"Uh, no ... " Alexander quickly thrust the sword at Machus, who took it and slid it into its waiting scabbard. He took his leave with a formal nod and passed through the wallgate as Urthblood ambled off toward the Abbey, leaving Arlyn and Alex standing by themselves on the south lawn.

"Well," Arlyn mused after some moments, "that ploy didn't work out as planned. Maybe those foxes do slay each other when they practice."

"It would explain why there are only twenty of them," said Alexander.