CHAPTER TEN

"It all started about two moons ago, around about the time of Winter's Eve.

'I was out on the sands, taking my normal patrol. When Marshtown was established, we wanted to build it bureaucratically on the same kind of ground as Noonvale, so we elected a chieftain and created a guardianship – I was one of them. Anyway, I was out on the beach around noon when I looked out to sea and saw a sail on the horizon. I rallied the rest of the guard, about twenty of us, and we readied ourselves to see what the ship would do. As it got closer, we realised it was only a small galley like vessel, but we hadn't seen ships on the coast before, so we played it careful like.

'The ship dropped anchor not far off the coast, and a couple of longboats were dropped into the water. As they got close, we realised they were carrying about a dozen vermin altogether. We watched them careful like, until one of them raised their forepaw and declared themselves as friendly. T'be fair, only about eight of them were actually armed, and they carried only a rapier each, though a couple of stoats had bows and arrows. Nothing like what we expected. We met them, shook paws, and they seemed civil enough, so we allowed them into the village and we all seemed to be getting along just fine.

'They were very curious about the area. Said they came from a land far to the north east, and that it was the first time they'd travelled this far west. Spoke with a funny kind of accent – rough and heavy, and the first time they spoke we knew they weren't from anywhere we knew about. It was only a couple of them that actually conversed with us, 'cause they were the only ones that could speak the language. The others spoke amongst themselves in a language completely foreign to us. The leader, a ferret called Yallen, seemed friendly enough and we chatted to him mostly.

'They set up a camp of tents on the beach not far away from Marshtown, keeping to themselves mostly, but we would mingle occasionally and Yallen would spend most of his time in the town. Him and me got along quite well eventually.

'It got to about the fourth night, and that's when he started asking me about the lands surrounding us. I told him there weren't much to the north – just uninhabited flatlands north of the Noon River for the most part, sparse woodland and then the climate got much colder, heading up into the Highlands where it got very mountainous, and was controlled for the most part by the mountain hares. Then he asked me what lay to the south and west.

'I'll be honest – I was hesitant. I didn't want them really knowing about the area, but it didn't really occur to me at the time that I could have lied. Besides, I'd hesitated too long – I knew that to lie then would've been too obvious. So, I told him first about Noonvale. Then, heading south along the Cross-Woodland Path, across the flatlands to the west of the Strigidan Mountains, you reach Mossflower Woods.

'Further down the path, there lies Redwall Abbey, a peaceful community of woodlanders who live in a great sandstone building. I should have noticed Yallen's eyes light up at the sound of Redwall. I hardly paid any attention to it. I just kept talking. About Salamandastron and the Long Patrol, and about Elmlow, the shrew unions and Camp Parley. Even the hedgehog tribes.

'A couple of weeks passed, and Yallen kept pressing me for more information – curiosity, he told me. Plain curiosity. As Marshtown grew, we started to share resources with them. Then, Yallen came to the village elders one day and announced that him and his crew were going to establish a settlement next to ours, and seemed to be asking our permission. Of course, the chieftain gave it. That evening, the cornerstone for the first building in the new village was lain, and we had a party to celebrate. Rolled out nigh on half the vittles we had for the feast.

'That evening, after all the dancing and whatnot, and the sun was far gone, these two stoat archers put on a show for us. Quite spectacular really, considering how ignorant we were to the actual meaning of it. Further down the beach, they gathered some oil and spread it across the beach in a pattern, and then they stood in a little puddle of it. Then, they shot two flaming arrows up in the sky, which hit each other, and fell to the ground, right on a patch of oil, which lit up the beach. Before the flames could reach them though, they shot two more arrows at these tiny little sacks placed next to the stream of oil going towards them, which disrupted the oil flow. Afterward, they then fired two more arrows up in the air, which hit each other, and fell back to earth right where they had been standing. Their aim must have been absolutely spectacular.

'The next day, we spotted a mast on the horizon. We thought nothing of it, as it still seemed to be quite a way out by noon, and over lunch we even asked the others about it, who lied and told us that they knew nothing about it. The rest of the day passed peacefully enough, all of us blissfully unaware of plans already laid.

'Once the sun was down and all of the Marshtown creatures were to their beds, it happened. I was patrolling near the old castle ruins when I suddenly realised something odd about the water. I started towards the shore, and suddenly realised why the other guards hadn't spotted it, aside from probably sleeping on the job. They were rigged with black sails.

'Aye. They. It weren't one ship – it was a whole fleet of the monsters. One ship was about three times the size of anything I'd even seen before, with decorated strakes along the sides and a large figurehead on each bow. The one I managed to get the closest to appeared to have a carved figure of a badger. I didn't get to see much else, I tried to keep meself hidden, and observe the goings on. The crews of each ship then lowered themselves into jolly boats and made for the shore. Well, that's when I decided to raise the alarm.

'I woke the guards that were supposed t'be on duty – when you're defending a small town like Marshtown, at times like these, you don't expect any trouble. Then, I went round knocking on doors and gathering up as many able-bodied fighters as I could, and assembled them on the shore. We were about to let off a volley of arrows when three of my finest mice archers were felled by arrows further down the shore: it was them two stoat archers, backed up by their crew. They had us, and there was no way out. They told us that if we surrendered, we wouldn't be harmed. So, we dropped our weapons and let 'em tie us up. Once they'd done this, they signalled to the boats, who continued rowing. Behind 'em, their ships pulled down their black sails and rigged up white ones, prob'ly just to show us their might. And let me tell you, an armada of that magnitude looked unbeatable.

'They rounded us all up kept us cosy for about a week whilst they fixed up the old castle, making basic improvements to it until it seemed like a suitable prison for us lot. Once we were all herded in, they started to unload their ships. We managed to get in a few peeks through the gaps in the walls, and saw that they were assembling an army. And they weren't messin' about either, they numbered easily in the hundreds. Maybe thousands. It was at that point that we realised what they were gonna do, and it was confirmed when they tried interrogating the chief about Redwall Abbey. He didn't say anythin', but he was given something to remind him of his silence. Blind in one eye now.

'We needed to get out. Fast. We spent about a week coming up with the plan to get a few of us out of there, out through a gap in the wall on the north side. The plan was for a small group to create a distraction by feigning an injury on the southeast corner, whilst a whole bunch of us slipped through the gap and made for the hills. Unfortunately, we weren't as successful as we'd hoped. The first part went off without a hitch, but as we made for the hills the guard patrols spotted us and started firing arrows at us whilst another lot tried to flank us. Only Isaiah, Noah, Amelia and meself got away – the rest were either killed or recaptured.

'Once we were over the hills, the next part of the plan got underway. One of the shrews who was in the escape group owned a second home on the banks of the broadstream, and his family were boat builders by trade, owning two sailing yachts. The plan was to take both of them to Noonvale, but we knew that if we did that the enemy would track us back there. Plus, we figured we'd be harder to follow out to sea, considering the yacht would be faster than their massive ships, which were all pointed towards the shore anyway. We thought heading out and then back to the coast again would throw them off.

'Luckily, me and Noah know our way around boats, 'specially considering I grew up on 'em. We took one of the yachts out of the mouth of the river, and made for the horizon. We don't know if we were spotted from the shore, but there didn't seem to be any efforts to come after us. Once we'd lost sight of the coastline, we tacked sharply and headed south west.

'We got back to the coast far south, but were presented with cliffs so we figured we'd overshot the mouth of the River Lonna, so backtracked northwest until we found it. Then, we headed upriver until we bumped into you lot. Amelia gave birth shortly after we started along the river.'

The story had gripped the otters of Camp Parley. Whilst Glenno had been telling the tale of their ordeal, the old, grey squirrel Isaiah had been drifting off to sleep and Amelia was looking after baby, showing it off to some of the otter mothers. Noah, meanwhile, had been listening intently, keen to make sure that Glenno told the story accurately.

'I was one of the recruited archers on the shore when the longboats were making their way in. I was standing next to Galen, one of the squirrels who died by the arrows of the two stoat archers. Although I am saddened by the loss of my friend, I thank the stars that I survived, for the sake of my daughter,' Noah said, bowing his head in memory, before looking across at his wife and child. Amelia looked up and smiled at him, noting the sadness in his eyes.

'Galen,' she said. 'We'll call her Galen.'

'Aye, 'tis a good name,' concurred Glenno. 'And let her be the legacy of Marshtown.'

'To Galen.' One of the council members, Wilf, raised his beaker. The congregation followed his lead, the sound of the crowd an unclear balance between sad contemplation and hopeful elation. Skipper Yeola heard the noise, and seemed unsatisfied with her clan's response. She stood, and looked around.

'Enough of this wallowing!' she cried. 'The battle has not even begun!'

'When the battle is fought, it will be over very quickly,' murmured Noah.

'Aye, followed by the screams of the fleeing enemy!' called out one of Yeola's crew.

Glenno stood up next to Yeola. 'You're fools!' he shouted. 'They number in the thousands! Your holt would be wiped out in seconds! These beasts are well-armed, well-trained and well-organised! Not to mention the fact they outnumber you by... by... well, I don't know by how much, but they outnumber you!'

'I'm not talking about going out to meet them alone,' said Yeola, turning to talk to Glenno in a lowered tone. 'I'm talking about going to Redwall Abbey and gathering an army from there.'

Even this didn't impress Glenno. 'Redwall is a peaceful place,' he said, shaking his head. 'They will never advocate the assembly of an attacking force!'

'He's right, Yeola,' said one of the senior councillors, Clammer, seated to the other side of the skipper. 'And even if they did, how big a force do you think you could rally? It might number in the low hundreds, but it wouldn't be at all enough to defeat the army Glenno describes.'

'So... what do you suggest?' asked Yeola angrily. 'We roll over? Let them conquer Mossflower?'

'We don't even know that that's their intention,' Clammer responded.

'A thousand-beast army is amassing on the north eastern shore, and you don't think that's their intention?'

'I don't know,' said Clammer, clear and resolute, staring Yeola down. 'But it would be foolish to enter into open war with a force of that size, when we know nothing about them.'

This time, Glenno rounded on Clammer. 'I can tell you their intentions!' he exclaimed. 'They killed three beasts, and imprisoned an entire town!'

'And did they, in all that time, explain why?' Clammer retaliated.

'They didn't need to!'

'They could've executed each and every one of you and slept soundly in their beds,' Clammer continued. 'So why didn't they? The possibility of recruiting you? Glenno, you should know that that'd never be an option for any decent creature. So why keep you alive?'

'Enslavement, maybe?' Glenno suggested heatedly.

Clammer stood up in order to achieve some height over the shrew. 'For what? You're talking about a huge, well-equipped army that is most likely designed to stay mobile. Do you think that they would waste their efforts lugging a group of slaves along with them? You described an invasion force, Glenno, not a group of settlers.'

'Look, their first port of call will mostly likely be Noonvale,' said Skipper Yeola, calming herself down and attempting to do the same for Clammer and Glenno, turning to the former. 'So, a Redwall force may not be enough to hold 'em back, but a Long Patrol one would. We need to send a messenger to Salamandastron or intercept one of the regiments and tell them to head north and reinforce the Noonvale guard before this mysterious army gets there. Even if they're not hostile, which I think is unlikely, then at least we're covering the bases.'

Clammer sighed heavily and nodded, agreeing with Yeola's prognosis. 'Well, Padthorn's already on the way there, so maybe we should send somebeast after him.'

'I'll call Otis,' said Yeola after a second's thought. 'He'll be able to scout out the army and find out more about them, like whether they're settlin' on the coastline or moving south. By the time he's done that, Padthorn will likely have moored up for the night, give Otis the chance to catch up.'

Skipper Yeola walked off towards her hut. Glenno leaned in closer to Clammer.

'What's an Otis when it's at home?' he asked.

'An owl,' replied Clammer. 'I'd hide if I were you.'