Never fear, another update is here! (Much later than I wanted it to be, but you know that already, don't you.) Yes, this thing is still going, although it has been competing with 4 other major stories, plus work, plus reading books, plus little awesome story ideas that my mind decides to come up with even though it KNOWS that I don't need any more distraction...

Anyway, here's Chapter 9


The weather was beautiful in western Mossflower. The afternoon sun shone bright in the sky, and thick mountains of clouds floated high in the sky like clumps of new cotton. Along the edges of the Wren River, several acres of bushes had turned deep red, making the bank look as though it were on fire. It was a magnificent sight to accompany the yellow and orange trees. However, the beauty was lost on the vermin camped at the edge of Mossflower Wood. Most were either taking advantage of the stop and sleeping, or gathered around small fires eating whatever they had caught from the abundance around them. Birds, fish, and other food stuffs were everywhere, free for the taking. It was much better that the northlands they had come from.

Although the decision to move had come as a surprise for some, moral had increased greatly. A new area meant plentiful food sources and opportunities for pillaging. Only one small settlement of wood mice had been raided so far, but Ulvaey kept the horde glittering-eyed with promises of Redwall Abbey and what awaited them there: abundance beyond their wildest dreams, even more so that what they saw now. However, there were still some who doubted for one reason or another. A few of them were sitting around a fire. There were four creatures: a stoat, two weasels, and a ferret with patchy fur. The stoat was stirring the fire with a short stick. The ferret watched the perch that lay sizzling over the coals. He didn't seem pleased that his companion kept stirring the fire. He tried to grab the stick. "Quit it, clumsy paws! You want embers in your fish?"

The stoat grumbled, but threw the stick into the fire. The ferret went back to tending the fish. After a while, he deemed one to be done and speared it, dropping it on a flat leaf. The larger of the two weasels grabbed the stick and speared another of the perch. The stoat, whose name was Redak, looked at the weasel and the ferret with slightly narrowed eyes, and then watched as the smaller weasel gingerly reached for one of the perch. Redak shoved the smaller creature's paw away and grabbed the fish instead. However, it burned him before he could drop it onto a leaf.

"Gah!" the stoat stuck the paw in his mouth. The big weasel and the ferret laughed. "Aww, too hot for you, Redak?" The ferret said, mockingly. "You need your old mum to kiss it better?"

There was more raucous laughter. The little weasel started to chuckle, but was silenced by a glare from the irate stoat. Redak dusted the fish off and began to eat it with fervor, tearing off large chunks of the flaky meat. The ferret, named Fleabit, tossed the bones of his fish in the fire and began to pick at his yellow teeth.

"I says we should stay here," he said. His companions looked at him, with the exception of the larger weasel, who was intent with his fish. Hakka, the smaller weasel, spoke quietly. "But what about that Abbey place the chief's been talkin' about?"

Fleabit rolled his eyes. "What about it? We don't even know if it exists. Ulvaey don't even know. He's just goin' by that corsair, what's his name…Marzda." The ferret gestured around them. "This place got vittles for a life time. There's fat fish in the water an' pretty birds in the trees. Why bother goin' further? This be the easy life." The ferret leaned back against a rock. Redak spat a fish bone in his direction.

"We go where the chief tells us," he said. "Restin' all day makes good vermin like us softies." He tossed the remains of his fish onto the coals, sending up a small shower of embers. "Too much of this an' we'll go all peaceable and fat like those mice we slayed back on the coast." The stoat belched loudly. "Besides, I wanna part of that abbey treasure."

Fleabit scoffed. "There ain't no treasure, turniphead. Even Hakka knows that."

Redak narrowed his eyes. "How d'you know? You ain't never seen it."

"Neither have you. And I don't need to see it, slobberchops, I know it don't exist. Ulvaey's just trickin' us all sneaky like. You've seen those green eyes when he talks about it. He knows there's no treasure. He's hidin'-umph!" The ferret was stopped mid-sentence by a blow to his stomach. He glared at the big weasel. "Why you-" he stopped again. A fox had emerged from the trees a few yards away. It was Uriun, carrying a fat wood pigeon. The four vermin sat quiet and still as he passed. Hakka nibbled on his fish innocently, watching the fox out of the corner of his bleary eyes. Once Uriun was out of sight, the big weasel, Runka, spoke. "You think he heard?"

Redak turned back and shook his head. "Don't think so." He glared at Fleabit, giving him another shove. "Don't talk so loudly, you idiot! The chief'd skin us alive if'n he thought we was plottin' somethin'."

The ferret considered this. He had seen such things happen with his own eyes. Ulvaey was merciless when he chose. Fleabit looked in the direction the Uriun had gone and shook his head. "I don' think 'e heard. You said so yerself."

The group turned back to their tiny fire and tried to reassure themselves.

It was by some stroke of dumb luck that Uriun hadn't heard the ferret's rant. He'd seen them looking at him, so it was obvious that they'd been talking about something they shouldn't have. However, Uriun wasn't concerned. It was common for hordebeasts to grumble behind their leaders' backs. And anyway, he was in no mood to go to the warlord about the matter. What would he say? Oh, by the way Father, I heard some hordebeasts arguing about something secret today…. Oh yes, that sounded so helpful.

The horde was moving along quickly. Two months earlier, a scouting party led by the polecat Marzda had ventured south to see what lay around the river. Shortly after their return, Ulvaey had declared that the Zahir would be traveling down the coast to better places. There was a massive boost in moral, especially due to the mention of a place called Redwall. The general consensus was that it was every vermin's dream. Many hordes had tried, but the place had never been conquered.

This sounded strange to Uriun. From what he had heard the place was full of mice. Clearly there must have been something there that had kept it safe for so many seasons. The young fox wondered if his father knew anything he wasn't letting on. He'd begun to notice that whenever Ulvaey spoke of the abbey, his green eyes acquired a strange light, as if his mind was somewhere else. Of course, there was no way to know without prying into things so Uriun had never brought it up aloud.

The young fox finally reached his shelter. It was a make-shift tent consisting of a cloak draped over some low hanging pine branches with a small circle of earth for a fire pit. It wasn't much, but it kept the rain off. Uriun removed his bow and arrows and poked through the fire pit. There were a few live coals left. He went into the pines and returned with an armload of wood. The thought of fresh, juicy wood pigeon made his mouth water. He hadn't eaten anything since the day before. The fox arranged the wood and prepared his catch. After a while, he had a scrumptious meal.

Uriun leaned back against the thick pine and picked at his teeth. There would be a raid tonight. Another group of scouts had returned the day before with reports of a small otter tribe down river. They had been watching them for several days, but it was now apparent that they had been spotted. If the Zahir wanted to follow the river without the risk of attack, the tribe would need to be eliminated.

Uriun had only been on one raid. The Zahir had destroyed a small settlement of wood mice on the way to the river mouth. The young fox was skittish at first, but he had taken to it rather well in the end. His father for one had been surprisingly proud of him. Enough so that he put him in charge of one of the new raiding parties. Uriun was somewhat nervous, but trusted that he would be able to carry out his leader's orders.


The quartet sitting around the fire never knew how lucky they were. It was certain that if it had been Ulvaey and not his son, the words would have been heard and all four would have found themselves either dead or something far worse. Most likely the something far worse. But they remained safe for that moment. The Warlord hadn't been even remotely within earshot.

At present, he was seated on a large stone, sharpening his sword in preparation for the coming raid. Ulvaey preferred to personally maintain his weapon. He knew every detail; the weight, the balance, the precise edge for delivering death in one strike. He wouldn't allow some clumsy hordebeast to ruin it. Ulvaey was so engrossed in his work that he even stopped listening to his surroundings and didn't sense the approaching hordebeast until she was standing in front of him. A whispery voice drew him from concentration.

"You sent for Ujjain, my Lord?"

The fox paused before looking up, trying to mask the fact that he had been startled. A wiry black rat was standing a few feet away. Her pale eyes watched him unblinking. Ulvaey put down his whetstone and nodded at the rat. "Indeed. You know of the raid?"

"The otter tribe, my Lord? They must be wiped out."

Ulvaey nodded approvingly. "Tonight you will go ahead of us. If these creatures smart they'll have set up some sort of watch. You must eliminate it."

Ujjain bowed her head and touched the pouch at her waist. "They will die before they scream, my Lord."

A malevolent grin washed over Ulvaey's face. "Indeed they will. Nobeast knows more of ambush than you." He inclined his head. "Leave me."

Ujjain crossed her paw over her chest and bowed deeply. "As the warlord wishes." Without another word she disappeared among the trees, as swift as a shadow in the night.

Ulvaey watched her go. He would never admit it, but Ujjain unnerved him. She always appeared when you least expected her to, even if you knew she was coming. But there was no better knife thrower in the Zahir and truly no beast more silent in an ambush. If there were indeed watchers, Ujjain would dispatch them. The rest would be too easy.

Ulvaey picked up the whetstone and continued over the steel with measured movements. It would see blood soon enough.


The full moon hid itself that night. Uriun Greeneyes blinked in the darkness of his hiding place. A curious gnat kept flying at his ears, which made it hard to keep still. Next to Uriun, Tenku the ferret was crouched on the soft ground. The stalks of grass stuck in his headband made it look like he was wearing some sort of woodland tiara. Like Uriun, he was camouflaged with patches of mud and grass on his fur. The young fox peered through the grass, trying to make out something in the darkness.

"Do you see her?" he whispered. Tenku shook his head. "We won't see that shadow until she wants us to see her."

The group was waiting for a signal from Ujjain. The wiry rat sat in a patch of marsh grass, waiting for an opportune moment. Across the mudflat sat two otters, barely illuminated by the stars. These woodlanders were smarter than they seemed. But not smart enough.

The rat moved forward inch by inch, as close as she dared, and pulled two stilettos from her hip pouch. She stuck one in her mouth and held the other, judging the distance between herself and the guards. The land here was lower than the bank, and the reeds were longer. She would need to move closer if she wanted a clear shot. About two feet ahead, there was a patch where the reeds were not so thick. It was risky going any closer, but Ujjain had no choice.

Snap!

The rat froze, paw raised. One of the otters jerked his head towards the noise. He stood up and stared across the marshy flat, whispering something that Ujjain could not hear. She didn't dare move. The otter seemed to be staring right at her. The rat squinted so that her eyes would not glint. The other otter was standing now. Both were speaking and the first otter pointed right to the place where Ujjain was hidden. The rat remained poised, ignoring the dull ache in her limbs from keeping so still. Patience was key. If she was discovered, the ambush would be useless.

Finally, the otters turned away and lowered their weapons. Ujjain got her opportune moment. The first otter fell with a gurgle, leaving the other to gape at the knife protruding from his companion's neck. He fell seconds later with the same between his eyes. As he hit the bank, Ujjain whistled and the marsh behind her bristled to life. Zahir horde beasts emerged en mass, most streaked with mud and grass, all armed to the teeth. Ulvaey Greeneyes materialized from the darkness, already grinning with malice. He was in high spirits again. The raiding party made their way across the mudflat to where Ujjain had killed the guards. Ulvaey looked down at their faces; so much shock in death. Did these peace loving woodlanders really think they were invincible? There would be no more peace when the Zahir were through.

There was a sudden commotion further down the path. A lone otter, no doubt relief for the guards, had run slam-bang into the horde. He turned and began sprint away. "Vermin!" He yelled. "Enemies in the vi-" the otter toppled to the ground. Ujjain had jumped on his back, slashing a remaining stiletto across his throat. Vermin streamed past the fallen creature, keen for blood. The archers reached the Holt first. Soon flaming arrows were launched, catching the dry thatch of the closest huts. Panicked otters rushed from their burning homes, only to be set upon by vermin. The end had begun.


Thekka wasn't sure what woke her first. One minute she was fast asleep and the next she heard somebeast yelling and Kettu was shaking her awake. The otter was standing over her, frantic.

"What's going-" Thekka began, but Kettu put a paw to her lips and pulled the vixen up from the floor and into the main room. It was dark, but Thekka could see Shad by the door, taking down his bow and knife.

Suddenly, a scream pierced the air. More followed, along with war-like cries and shouts, growing more numerous by the moment. Thekka could smell smoke now. They were under attack! Suddenly, something tore down the mat covering the door and burst into the hut. It was a tall, evil looking rat with a drawn bow. Kettu screamed and pulled Thekka behind her as Shad rammed into the rat, sending the creature to the floor. The rat snarled and clawed, but Shad plunged a knife into his chest. Blood splashed; the rat gurgled and was still.

Thekka couldn't move. She clung to Kettu, staring wide-eyed at the dead rat and the blood that seeped from the wound in its chest. Outside, the scent of smoke grew steadily stronger. The vixen could hear flames crackling. Kettu was crying. Shad picked up his bow and knife. He ran to his wife and daughter and hugged them tightly. "Get out of here, do you understand? Both of you, right now!"

Kettu tried to grab his arm, but he was gone. Thekka's eyes were still locked on the dead rat, staring dead-eyed up at the ceiling. "Kettu…"

The otter mum grabbed a knife and pulled Thekka to the back window. "Come on!" She all but heaved the vixen out of the hut, jumping through after her. Thekka was breathing heavily, overwhelmed with panic. "What's going on?"

Kettu gripped her arms. "Thekka, listen to me. Run. Run as fast as you can. Get out of here!

"Where are you going?" Thekka gripped her mother's arm fearfully.

"Thekka, go, now!" Kettu yelled, "Do you hear me? Get out of here! Go!" She shoved the vixen away and disappeared into the smoke. "Run!"

Thekka huddled next to the hut. She was alone, alone in the screams and crackle of burning huts. What was happening? Who were these attackers? The vixen shut her eyes tight, trying to block out the horror. Kettu and Shad were gone, and Bluepaw was somewhere out in the chaos. Thekka looked through the darkness, now partially illuminated by the full moon which had broken through the clouds. She stood; ready to run into the woods, when something materialized out of the smoke. Thekka stood face to face with a short weasel. The creature stared at her, frowning.

"What are you-ugh! "

He never finished the words. Thekka grabbed him and shoved him against the hut.

Crack!

The weasel crumpled to the ground. Thekka didn't look long enough to see if he was dead. With Kettu's shouts still ringing in her ears, the vixen took off into the woods. She ran for her life, never once paying heed to the branches that slapped her face or the thorns that cut her arms and legs. She had no idea where she was going, only that she had to keep running until she couldn't anymore. Her mind raced. She had killed that weasel, she was sure of it. The sound had been so unnatural; he couldn't possibly be alive. She had killed…

A branch materialized in out of the darkness. The jarring blow knocked Thekka to the ground. Her vision blurred and tunneled, then faded into black.

Far behind, the screams continued. They finally faded away but Thekka did not hear them. She lay among the trees in the darkness, seen only by the stars and pale moon, knowing naught what she had escaped from.