READ THIS PLEASE!
I'm sure you are wondering, since many other people haven't been able to update, what exactly the F is going on. Well, I was wondering the same thing until last night. After some google-fu, I managed to pull up a little bit of help. Let's say you go to update your stories, going to the Publish tab, and My Stories from thereon. For the past weeks, this is what you would get something along the lines of "Server type 2" and "An error has occured while processing your request". Well, here's the deal. This is the URL on that error page:
.net/story/story_edit_?storyid=6659739/1/
You see in that URL how it says edit_. Well, here's what you do. Change that word 'property' to 'content', without the little quotation marks of course. This should for all intensive purposes fix it. But once again:
Read this please!
Maybe I'm just overreacting, but we may very well lose a good chunk of the Redwall FF community if this error persists. Yeah, it sounds stupid, but if nobody's able to update, you can see what will happen. I already sent an e-mail to , explaining both the problem and apparent solution. Hopefully they'll fix it. But if you feel the need to (And this has a huge disclaimer: I am NOT advocating the spamming, harassment, or otherwise drowning of the good support folks in e-mails) shoot the FF support staff a message. Once again, I'm not saying flood them with mail about "OMG TEH WEBSITEZ IZ NOT WORKING!11!1!" Just if this isn't fixed in a few more weeks or so, maybe think about it.
Anyway, now that that is out of the way, enjoy part 9 of Doors of Fire!
Joseph, Tommy and the long-patrol hares had heard the shots and were already moving by the time Samuel came across them. They seemed shocked to the see the squirrel alive, even more so unharmed. Sure that the roar of gunfire had been from the vermin, the small troupe was ready to charge in, guns blazing. But seeing their friend breathing and unscathed was astonishing, at least until he introduced them to Sergeant Sagepaw and his mish-mash of troops.
They sat in foxholes that had been dug by vermin, eating vermin rations of dried pear and celery, and some smoking vermin cigarettes. The food was bad, fires were forbidden, and it looked like rain was on the horizon, but Samuel was inexplicably happy. Listening to Jones, Sagepaw's second-in-command, he related the story to Samuel and his friends.
"See," he said after tearing off a chunk of tough celery. "We managed to catch those rats so off guard that they just fell apart as soon as they 'eard of us landing. Most o' Sagepaw's ship managed to stay together, but came down off-target. We crashed right smack-center in these here woods, scared the vermin so bad they left most of their gear and abandoned their positions." He smiled, shaking the empty ration can. "Some of 'em stuck around, but most turned tail and ran straight into the abbey. That's where they've been fer two days now."
"So let me get this straight," Pangil seemed flabbergasted by the whole situation. "You've got the blinkin' vermin trapped in their fort, unable to move, and you haven't attacked yet? Jolly old blunder if you ask me, bucko."
Jones tapped his nose, like he knew a secret that the hare didn't. "See, that there's the problem. They've got more beasts and weapons than we do, and they've got the better position. That is, until tonight."
"And what happens then, mind me askin'?"
"We take the abbey." They all jumped at the sudden appearance of Sagepaw, who seemed to have appeared out of the night itself. He knelt by the foxhole, sitting on his haunches and whispering in hushed tones. "Send in small teams under the cover of night while the rest provide a diversion. We know there can't be more than a platoon of rats in there, probably less. We got 'em pretty good after dropping in."
He looked up at Damien. "Sergeant Pangil, I understand you're a marksman?"
The hare smiled, hefting his rifle. "Sure as the blinkin' sunrise. In need of my services, wot?"
Sagepaw allowed himself a small grin. "Absolutely. The vermin keep wall guards posted at all times, some of them on machine guns. We need those gun posts eliminated. If we get inside and those emplacements are still there, we're done for. Can you do it?"
He feigned shock, holding a paw over his chest. "Can I do it? Of course I can bloody well do it! You just tell the honorable Sergeant Damien Pangil where the rascals are at, and Glenda here'll take care of it."
Ignoring the strange remark, the squirrel nodded in approval. "Good. I'll send for you when it's about to start. The rest of you, same rule applies. When we get set up, I want you to hammer the ever-loving beeswax out of that place. I want fire on the north and west walls, keep their attention. But be careful. Me and the entrance parties are going to be on the opposite wall side."
Samuel frowned. "You're going with them, sergeant?"
"'Course I am," the squirrel said light-heartedly, as if somebeast had asked him if he was accompanying the local band on their parade. "Wouldn't have it any other way."
And with that he was gone, melting off to inform the remaining soldiers. Samuel turned back to his friends and shook his head. "He's going to get himself killed."
"Not at all, laddie buck!" Pangil leaned forward. "Ain't no better leader than the one who leads from the front. I say, that bit of pear looks awful bruised. Why don't I take it off your paws, save you the trouble of..."
Samuel swallowed the chunk of fruit in the blink of an eye. "Oh no, I've heard about you hares. Walking stomachs, my dad used to say."
Tommy chuckled. "Yep, my folks said the same thing. 'When you have your own place', they told me, 'never have a hare over for the house-warming party. He'll put you into more debt than a bad mortgage on food costs alone.'"
He glanced up from the mess tin at Joseph. "What about your folks? They tell you anything before you shipped off?"
The otter grinned. "I tell ya, my ol' dad wasn't too happy about me bein' an army otter. Kept sayin' it wasn't natural, fer our kind to be jumpin' out of the skies. Told me to join the navy like a normal beast." He laughed slightly at the memory. "I used to get sick on fishin' trips, sittin' on a quiet lake. Couldn't stand the idea of bein' on a huge ship, in the middle of the ocean. Scares the fur right offa me." He raised his eyes. "How 'bout you, Sammy?"
Samuel shrugged, staring into his canteen cup. "My dad was in the last war, he got wounded fighting in the Northlands and came back home to be a farmer. Whenever I asked about it, he would just look away and say that it was...a bad time. Before I went off to basic, all he told me was to be careful and to not give up. My mom kept crying, and I heard her tell dad that...that she felt like I wouldn't be coming home."
Everybeast was silent, the only sounds coming from a few distant firefights chattering over the horizon. Samuel kept his head down, trying to force back the tears. He could still see his father's face, looking like he was watching his son march off to his own death. The hollow, desperate look in his eyes had been enough to freeze Samuel in place for a few moments. Finally, he blinked the tears away and looked back up. "I really hope she was wrong."
Joseph wrapped an arm around his shoulders. "Now, none o' that." He rapped him on the helmet lightly. "We're all gonna be fine, right lads?"
The rest of them agreed heartily, each trying to look more eager than the last. "Of course, m'lad!" Damien said, tossing his helmet into the air and catching it deftly. "Why, I'll bet you those rotten ol' vermin will surrender at the very sight of us, wot wot?"
Tommy made a show of licking his bayonet. "I feel sorry for those vermin! When we're done tonight, they'll be wishing they never saw us!"
But their show of bravado soon faded, leaving them in the suffocating dark and quiet of night. Samuel found himself clutching the cross necklace again, running his fingers over the ancient wood. His father had worn this once, and had given it to his son the day be left. Choking back tears, the aging squirrel had clasped Samuel's paw tightly. "For when you don't know where to turn," he had said, almost sobbing the words.
Now Samuel stared into the forest ahead of him, watching as soldiers readied themselves for what was to come. Some were cleaning and checking weapons, while others tried to find space for an extra grenade or clip of ammunition. Sergeant Sagepaw caught his gaze and offered him a brief nod. He picked up his rifle and whistled lowly, just loud enough for those in the vicinity to hear.
"Listen up," he half-whispered, half-shouted into the darkness. "For those of you on the raiding party, assemble on me. The rest of you, find a position where I told you to and get set up. When you see a red flare, move up one squad at a time and get inside so we can clear it out. There are more buildings once we're in, and we'll need everybeast to clear them out. Any questions?"
There were no words spoken as Sagepaw glanced over the collection of beasts, each no more than a silhouette in the night. "Right, then." He raised a paw. "Raiding party, with me. The rest of you, keep up the fire and wait for the flare. Marksmen, to your positions."
Samuel watched as a number of beasts stood and seemed to melt into the woods, Damien being one of them. As he watched the departing, a certain beast stood out. He only managed to catch a glimpse of him before the creature slunk off into the trees, but Samuel could have sworn it was the sniper from his unit, Karim! Now he really felt sorry for the vermin.
The remaining beasts, about thirty in all, settled back into their foxholes. Samuel jumped into his and checked his rifle for the countless time and began checking his ammunition supplies. Twelve clips in his pockets and belt pouches, and one in the weapon. One hundred and four rounds total. He had a sinking feeling that he may use it all.
His eyes shifted to the abbey. Dark against the cloudy night sky, with only a few lights visible through the shuttered windows. The sandstone walls were dulled with age, but still stood strong and resilient. Although they were invisible at the time, Samuel knew that there were countless vermin manning machine gun posts and rifle slits running along the walls and battlements. Even at this distance, he could hear distant chatter and radio signals. Samuel tried to imagine being one of them, trapped in the fortress, desperate for any sort of help or comfort.
He forced the thoughts out of his mind, remembering the cottage they had come across a few days prior. The vermin had done that, they had killed an innocent creature and burned their home! His paws gripped the rifle stock tighter. They shouldn't be here, they shouldn't be doing this. And it was his job to remove them by any means necessary.
A whisper came down the line of creatures lining the edge of the forest. Joseph, who was in the nearest foxhole to Samuel's left, leaned over. "Wait for the whistle, and open fire. Pass it along." His eyes were deadly serious, but Samuel could still see a twinkle of the youthful eagerness that he had come to know in his friend. He said a silent prayer, asking that they would both be alive by the next morning.
Samuel did so, whispering to Tommy. The mouse nodded once and carried the message along. Soon, everything was silent once more. Samuel shivered as a single gust of wind shook the trees, rattling the empty branches like bones. Somebeast cleared his throat, but even that was lost in the darkness. Samuel kept his rifle sitting on the edge of his foxhole, leaning the barrel on his pack to maintain a steady aim. His sights, almost invisible in the night, were trained near the top of the abbey walls. As his heart began to pound, Samuel forced himself to take a few breaths. Now was not the time for panic.
The whistle broke through the eerie stillness, shrieking like a dying creature. As it stopped only a second later, the forest seemed to freeze. Even the wind seemed to halt. Samuel could only stare at the abbey walls, dark against the night sky. He had time for a single, somewhat absurd question. I wonder if they'll be here by tomorrow?
And then the world exploded.
The salvo of gunfire was enough to make Samuel yelp, accidentally pulling the trigger on his rifle before he was ready. Flame lit up the tree line, revealing the face of each beast for just a split second, like a camera flash. The forest itself seemed to shake and recoil from the sound, which seemed to be coming from an artillery piece instead of rifles. Submachine guns, letting go with their chattering bursts, were almost drowned out by the constant banging and snapping of rifles, like a tree limb snapping. Smoke drifted off the line like a ghost as the wisps rose and mingled together in the sky.
Samuel pulled his trigger again, only this time he was sure of the target. As he felt the familiar bucking motion of the gun, it was as if his fears disappeared. There was no apprehension, no doubt, no foreboding of his death. Nothing remained but his rifle, sights, and the abbey wall straight ahead. The world was drowned out to a dull roar as he worked, breathing slowly and listening to the steady rhythm of his heart. One shot every four beats, as consistent and measured as clockwork. He allowed the rifle to roll gently into his shoulder with each pull of the trigger, welcoming the hard jolt and smell of burnt powder drifting up his nostrils. Time had slowed to a crawl, but Samuel hardly noticed. All he cared about was the weapon in his paws and the target far ahead. His keen eyes noticed movement on the wall tops, and his paws seemed to respond without thought. The gunfire was constant now, lighting up the scene in front of him with every shot. This was what he was meant to do, this was his world now. It was all he needed; a rifle and a target.
The empty clip ejected with its characteristic ping! Instinctively, from hours and hours of training, Samuel dropped to a knee in his foxhole and began reloading the weapon with practiced calm. Last week he would have fumbled and most likely dropped the ammunition, or the weapon for that matter. Now, it was as fluid as the smoke wafting into the air. His paws flew over the receiver and action, slamming the bolt shut with a loud snap. Taking a deep breath, Samuel stood back up and lifted his weapon.
He flinched as the dirt exploded in front of him, sending clods and small rocks flying at him. Dropping back into the hole and spitting out chunks of soil, he could just barely make out the sound of vermin machine guns coming from atop the hill. Their stream of gunfire, like the tone of an angry buzz-saw, was followed shortly by shouts from across the line. Samuel heard somebeast shouting over the din, but was suddenly cut off by another burst, which was met with a shrieking cry of agony. Samuel gritted his teeth and swore under his breath. They are not going to do this to us! He shouted inside his head. I'm not going to let them.
A thought immediately popped into his head. "Cover!" He shouted; his throat raw and dry, as soon as there came a split-second interlude from the vermin guns. "Give me cover! I'm getting this bastard!"
Nobeast responded immediately, and Samuel actually thought for as terrifying moment that the entire line had been cut down. But he smiled as a hail of gunfire erupted from their ranks, enough to quell the gun position on the abbey. Samuel spat the taste of sulfur out of his mouth and heaved himself up, leveling the gun once more. His eyes searched frantically for the gun position as the fire continued, pock-marking the walls with brief clouds of dust and stone wherever a round struck. Samuel's heart sank as he realized that the gunner was nowhere to be seen. Not on the walls themselves, not in the battlements, not...but then something appeared in the hail of dust. A perfect figure, standing just in front of a lit window. Even at this distance, he could see the machine gun and the vermin behind it, flinching and ducking every time a bullet strayed close to his position.
Samuel was dumb-struck. Were these vermin really stupid enough to place their gun right in front of a backlit window? He was a perfect target! He actually shrugged to himself as the sights fell on the unfortunate vermin. If they were going to make this sort of mistake, then he would take full advantage. There was no doubt as his finger settled on the trigger, starting to pull the metal instrument back. He suddenly felt a ping of remorse, realizing that the vermin had no idea of what was about to happen. Forgive me for this.
As soon as his rifle barked, there was no questioning whether or not the round would hit. It was something he could feel, something that went far beyond simple marksmanship. Samuel watched as the figure in front of the window jerked, reaching up to his chest. But then he went limp, falling to the side along with the gun. A shout of jubilation went up from the forest, followed by jeers and shots aimed at the retreating vermin.
Samuel lowered his rifle slightly, staring at the wall. He closed his eyes for just a moment, forcing back mental images of the village. Not now, he thought. This was different. Looking back up, he was astonished to find that the gunfire had settled to a dull clatter inside the abbey, occasionally interrupted with the thump of a grenade or scream. Samuel felt his muscles tense, knowing what was coming next.
The flare went up with a dull pop, burning scarlet against the coal-dark night. All the beasts watched as it soared, finally beginning its descent leaving a trail of red smoke behind it. Not a single creature moved, watching with baited breath as the battle continued to rage on inside the abbey. After a moment of unbearable quiet, Samuel heard a short cry from just a few foxholes down. He looked to see a mouse, holding a rifle above his head and turning to face them. "Come on, lads!" He shouted, waving towards the abbey. "We're not getting anything done just sitting here! Eulaliaaa!"
A roar went up from the trees as they leaped from their foxholes, fixing bayonets and shouting war cries. Samuel found himself alongside Joseph, sprinting directly at the abbey. Their boots thundered like a stampede, drowned out by the continuous shouts. It was for this reason that almost none of them heard the distant pops until it was too late.
The first mortar landed far behind them, in the trees. At first, it hardly registered with Samuel. Assuming it was from inside the abbey, he continued the charge along with everybeast. But the next round landed almost directly in their center, sending up a geyser of smoke and dirt. Samuel turned his head slightly, slipping a bit on the wet grass and falling. This probably saved his life, as the next explosion occurred so closely that if he had been standing up, the shrapnel would have taken his head off. Instead it felt as though he had been punched in the stomach, driving the air from his lungs. All he was capable of was to hold his helmet with one paw and clutch the ground as if it meant life itself.
But his hopes of staying huddled on the ground were dashed as somebeast grabbed him by the collar, dragging Samuel to his feet. He caught a glimpse of Joseph, teeth bared and shouting. "They've got us zeroed!" The otter could hardly scream loud enough to be heard over the whistle and thump of the mortars. "We need to move!"
As Samuel got his feet, and senses, back under him, he realized what the otter meant. The vermin wouldn't dare move their guns close enough to hit the abbey itself. But this field was open, with no spot of cover for over two hundred yards. That meant their only chance for survival meant under the abbey walls themselves.
The two clamored up the hill, which banked up sharply for the last few yards. By the time they had reached the relative safety of the walls, both were sweating and gasping for breath. Samuel wiped the mix of sweat and dirt away from his eyes as more joined them, still running from the mortars. He could make out the distinct shapes of bodies, lying broken and twisted in the open field. Turning away, he began to follow Joseph and the others towards the abbey gate.
Even from their short briefing of the abbey's layout, Samuel could tell that they were at the main gate. This sent a jolt of fear straight up his spine. If there were still any vermin manning the walls or guard towers, they would be able to fire straight down into the group as they rushed in. Not to mention that the main abbey building was facing directly towards the gate, and was most likely the vermin's only remaining defensive position. But Samuel realized that it was too late for any of that as they rushed in, weapons raised.
He nearly fired as a dark figure moved towards them, but realized that it was one of their own. The otter, who Samuel realized was Sagepaw's friend Jones, was wearing a bandage around one eye and limping slightly. But the smile on his face was enough to tell the story. "Ahoy, mates!" He shouted, waving a paw. "I see you made it in alright?"
Samuel let out a sigh. "Most of us. We took mortar fire on the way in, lost a few back in the field." Even he realized how different his actions were. If this had taken place three days before, the squirrel would have been weeping openly or curled up in a ball back in his foxhole.
Jones shook his head. "Sorry to 'ear that, mate. But ye'll be happy to know that we're nearly done 'ere. Some o' the vermin are still hidin' in the dormitories like the cowards they are. Just cleanin' house now."
As if to emphasize his point, there was a sudden explosion, louder than any grenade, and a sudden rush of automatic fire. Jones flinched slightly, grinning a bit. "Guess the second charge did the job. We tried one already on the doors, but those rats had stacked beds and the like behind 'em. Turned the timbers to matchsticks, 's how I got these." He motioned to the bandage and leg.
Smoke began to rise from the other side of the sandstone building, along with shouts from what sounded like the sky-jumpers. The shooting had almost completely stopped, except for the occasional burp from a submachine gun. Samuel rested his weapon in the crook of his elbows. "Is Sagepaw alright?" he asked tentatively, voicing the question they all dreaded to ask.
The otter waved a paw dismissively. "Ah, the ol' Sarge is just fine. Got cut on some glass jumpin' through a window, but e'll be alright. Speakin' of the devil himself..."
Sagepaw appeared from around the main abbey building, reloading his rifle. He saw the group standing by the doors and smiled. "You don't know how glad I am to see you," he said when they met half-way across the slightly scorched lawn. "Saw the flare, I take it?"
One of their group, the only hare, nodded. "That we did, wot wot? Took some bloody awful mortar fire comin' across the field, but nothing too bad."
A frown came over the squirrel's features. "Mortars, huh? Damn, I was hoping we wouldn't have to deal with those. We'll have to find them before long. I don't want to have rounds coming in through the roof while we're trying to eat."
That caught Samuel's attention. As the rest of the group dispersed to try and find their respective squads, he strode up to Sagepaw. "Did we lose anybody in the assault?" He asked, bracing himself for the answer.
He sighed, nodding regretfully. "Yeah. Three of my guys and one of the Long Patrol hares. Theodore, I think. He, ah...he was the first one into the main building. Those rat bastards were waiting for us. At least it was...it was quick for him." He swore under his breath, visibly shaking himself to force back the emotion until later. "Anyway, the vermin got off a lot worse than us. We only took ten or so prisoners, the rest are dead. I've got to hand it to you and your guys, Samuel. If you hadn't been on the line, there's no way we would have gotten it done. Those rats didn't even notice us until it was too late; they were so focused on you."
Samuel cocked his head slightly. "My guys? I'm just a PFC, sergeant. I'm not a leader."
Sagepaw clapped him on the shoulder, leading him towards the main building. "Oh, you will be. I can tell that much. As soon as this mess gets organized and the officers come around, I'm putting in a recommendation for your promotion to corporal."
"Thanks, sergeant. I hope I can..." He had to stop, staring in astonished horror at the scene in front of him. Countless vermin bodies lay strewn in the grass and up the dormitory stairs. Soldiers strolled back and forth, checking the corpses for anything worth having. Thick, oily smoke poured from the broken door frame, where the only thing that remained of the doors themselves was the bronze hinges.
"It took two full satchel charges to get that done," Sagepaw said under his breath. "They kept shooting at us from the upper windows. It was kind of strange, though. We never got any fire from the very top floor, the infirmary."
The sound of breaking glass was shortly followed by the clatter of a rock landing on the cobble-stone path. Sagepaw jumped a little, but recovered quickly and picked out the stone lying among the blood and bodies, trying to avoid stepping on anything unpleasant. There was a piece of paper wrapped around the stone, attached with some twine. Slitting the string, he removed the paper and examined it. Suddenly, he was stuffing it into a pocket and grabbing Samuel by the shirt. "Come on, we've got to move!" He nearly shouted, motioning for a few more soldiers to follow as well.
Samuel knew better to question as they rushed through the bottom floor of the dormitories. More vermin were lying on the floor and near makeshift barricades, some nearly unrecognizable. The explosives had done more than open the doors. Samuel and the group of five or so soldiers ran pell-mell up the stairs, not stopping until they had reached the infirmary doors, panting and sweating. Sagepaw pounded a fist on the door, shouting through the wood. "Is anybeast in there? We're woodlanders!"
A murmured reply came through the door which Samuel couldn't hear. But Sagepaw nodded to himself and stood away from the door. "Get back, you guys. They're coming out."
The door creaked open slightly, just enough for an ancient-looking mouse to poke his gray-furred head out. "Is it safe?" He asked in a high-pitched, warbling tone.
Sagepaw gestured to the stairs. "As safe as it'll get, sir. You might want to cover some of the little ones' eyes, though. It got pretty, uh...bad down there. But it's safe."
The mouse nodded gratefully, blinking away tears. "A shame it has come to such things, but thank you, for everything. We'll be down in just a moment." He disappeared back inside the room, where the sounds of conversation were growing rapidly.
Samuel glanced at the sergeant curiously. "Who are they?"
"Most of them were prisoners," he said, disgusted. "The vermin took over the abbey and forced all the beasts into labor. They were trapped up here during the firefight, which was probably for the better."
The doors swung open, allowing the crowd of beasts inside the infirmary to flood down the stairs. Samuel and the other soldiers tried to keep things orderly as best as possible, but it was hard to do when the crowd outnumbered them ten to one. Occasionally, one of them would appear out of the crowd and hug them, crying tears of joy and shaking paws vigorously. They tried to be as friendly as possible, but kept the former prisoners moving.
As the crowd thinned to a trickle, Samuel noticed something strange. Four creatures, bearing what appeared to be a rolled-up flag between them. Most of these creatures, like a few of the ones in the crowd, were wearing a pale-brown robe, which Samuel had been told was the traditional wear of abbey-dwellers. The procession bore their parcel carefully, and with obvious reverence. The last creature came out of the infirmary; it was the mouse who had spoken to them before. He was dressed in the same robe as the others, but was obviously more important.
"He's the father abbot." Sagepaw leaned over to whisper to Samuel. "Kind of like a king, but not so...powerful. Still has quite a bit of sway, though. Don't mess this up."
Samuel nodded to himself as the mouse approached, pulling his paws out from folded sleeves and hugging all of the soldiers. "Thank you, my friends," he said after completing the gesture. "There are no words to express our gratitude. We have seen so much hardship that seeing a friendly face is almost...foreign. But now that you are here, things will be different. We will rebuild, and things will change. On behalf of all who enter our doors, welcome to Redwall Abbey."
"Thank you, father..." Samuel immediately felt his cheeks redden. He didn't even know the abbot's name!
The spectacle-wearing mouse laughed, holding his belly. "Oh, forgive me! I haven't even made any proper introductions. My name is Abbot Carmen. Please, feel free to make yourselves at home. I'm sure the kitchen workers will have the great hall up and running again and we have beds if you need rest. I can imagine anybeast in your spirit must, after what you have done to free us."
"Thank you, father Carmen," Sagepaw said, slinging his rifle. "But there's still quite a bit to do, unfortunately. But as soon as we're done, I promise we'll take you up on your offer."
Nodding understandingly, father Carmen followed them down the steps. "Of course, I understand. A warrior's day is never done, it was once said."
They wandered past a wide hallway, ending with a solid stone wall. Samuel stopped, looking at the creatures standing at the wall. They were unfurling something, trying to set it up on some pegs. It was hard to tell what it was in the darkness, but he was immediately curious at what it might be. "If you don't mind me asking, father, what is that over there?" Samuel said, pointing down the hall.
Squinting, the mouse made a humming sound. "Ah, that is the tapestry of Martin the Warrior. He founded our abbey countless seasons ago, after freeing the woodlands of a wildcat scourge. He has been our protector ever since. Well, ever since..." his voice trailed off, and Samuel could see tears starting to pool in the mouse's eyes.
Sagepaw placed a comforting paw on the abbot's shoulder. "Everything will be alright, father Carmen. You have my word on that."
Samuel nodded. "He's right. We've got a whole invasion force pressing eastward, and we'll finally push the vermin out of here for good."
They continued on, Abbot Carmen giving them a short tour of the enormous abbey. The two squirrels were surprised to see the abbey's inhabitants already cleaning up, getting rid of vermin banners, insignia, and equipment. The abbot took them past what was called Great Hall, which the vermin had been using as a strategic planning center. Dozens, if not hundreds of maps and diagrams littered the floor, ready to be gathered for disposal or storage.
Sagepaw stopped a middle-aged mouse, carrying a barrow full of rifles. "I'd keep those around," he said gravely. "Just in case, you know?"
The abbot nodded to the creature's inquisitive look. "Until we can be sure of our safety," he said, "I think it would be wise to maintain a certain level of security. I'm sure Sergeant Sagepaw and Private Melton here would agree."
The two nodded in near unison, watching as the mouse shrugged and tottered off to place the weapons back in storage. "I hope I'm not offending you by asking this question, father," The sergeant said, "but how many beasts here can actually wield a rifle?"
Carmen shook his head as they continued walking. "Not many, I'm sorry to say. Some of the otters, and a few squirrels maybe. But most who live here, even if they are not part of our order, have dedicated themselves to peace. We are not a war-savvy group, you must understand."
Sagepaw nodded. "Yes, forgive me. It's just a matter of your own safety. If we offered, and if you allowed it, do you think anybeast here would be willing to learn how to fight?"
"It is a necessary evil, I suppose. You have my permission, Sergeant. I'm sure there would be more than a few willing volunteers, after the horrors they have witnessed." He actually shivered, trying to shake himself of the thought.
They made it back to the dormitories, where once again they were astonished by the Redwallers' enthusiasm and dedication. The entire hall, except for a few chipped stones and the obvious missing doors, was clean. A few beasts were still mopping and wiping up the floor, chattering ceaselessly. More than once Samuel was surprised by a hug and tearful thank-you from one of the many creatures. He smiled as a young mouse saluted smartly, returning the gesture. The child, who the father said were called dibbuns at Redwall, marched off with a mop in imitation of a rifle.
One of the robe-wearing mice walked up to the abbot and bowed slightly. "The Great Hall and cavern hole are clean, father Abbot. It'll be a while before they're fully repaired, but I think they'll do for now."
The abbot thanked him and turned to the two soldiers. "If you and your men have the time, Sergeant, we will have lunch ready in just a few minutes. We would be honored if you would join us."
Sagepaw glanced at Samuel. "Oh, I suppose we could," he said, smiling.
