Chapter One Hundred and Eleven

The sound of those explosions at Doublegate could not be heard on the western coast, nor could their flashes be seen, even from the roof of Salamandastron. But Urthblood knew when the very first stormpowder keg detonated against the outer wall of his shrew fortress.

The troubled Badger Lord stopped what he was doing and climbed straightaway to the plateau of his mountain stronghold, startling the Gawtrybe who stood that night's crater rim lookout rotation. There he joined them for the remaining predawn hours, staring out obliquely to the southeast, away from the anchored searat ships which might have been expected to command his attention.

Every unseen, unheard blast from the distant battle impinged upon Urthblood's awareness, and with each shudder of the ethereal plane his consternation grew. Something monumental was happening somewhere in Mossflower, something his prophetic sight had not revealed to him until this very moment. In his otherworldly vision he saw flames and tumult and death, but it all tumbled together in a confused riot of imagery that he could not decipher. While the shape of the specific events remained unclear, Urthblood harbored no doubts as to what beasts were behind this upheaval of the inner lands' peace and order.

Concerned by his badger master's preoccupied demeanor, one of the sentry squirrels slipped downstairs to rouse Matowick. The bleary-eyed Gawtrybe captain stepped onto the plateau a short time later, pawing the sleep from his drooping lids and yawning as he joined Urthblood at the south crater wall. "Anything wrong, M'Lord?" he asked thickly.

The badger's gaze never wavered from the indefinite point, somewhere in the dark lower reaches of the mountain line, where the focus of his attention lay. "There has been a major incident tonight, Captain."

Matowick stiffened. He knew his underling would not have interrupted his slumbers without good reason, not these days when the ongoing negotiations with Tratton had them all a little on edge. The badger's choice of words now filled the squirrel commander with foreboding.

"A major incident?" Matowick echoed, confused by the direction Urthblood faced. "Is it ... searats?"

The larger creature nodded. "Yes ... but not searats alone."

This did little to clear up the archerbeast's confusion. "So, Tratton had treacherous aims all this time, and has just been playing us along?"

"The matter will have to be investigated further before we can say that with any certainty." Urthblood turned and started for the steps leading down into Salamandastron.

"Um, where are you going, My Lord?"

"To investigate the matter further, naturally."

Urthblood proceeded directly to the overhung aerie ledge where his avian officers made their home. Altidor and Klystra raised their heads upon his arrival; Saugus the owl had yet to return from his nightly reconnaissance patrol. The badger crossed the wide, covered balcony to stand before the falcon.

"Klystra, I need you to leave at first light and make a wide circle over Mossflower to look for anything out of the ordinary. If nothing unusual meets your gaze on a general overflight, then stop at Redwall, Foxguard and Doublegate to check on the status of each of those sites. Report back to me as quickly as you can - no later than noon."

Klystra stood and stretched, raising himself up onto the tips of his talons as he spread his formidable wingspan out to its full extension. One glance out at the coastal plains told him that dawn was imminent. "What to look for?"

"I am not sure. But I suspect you will know it when you see it."

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It was to have been the Redwallers' last morning at Foxguard before returning to the Abbey.

At first the lookouts up on the tower's observation deck didn't know what to make of the events unfolding to the south. The booms reached their ears as only the faintest of echoes, less distinct than even the most distant rumbles of thunder. And as for the flashes from the explosions that were tearing Doublegate apart, the elevated sentries fancied that they saw something from that direction, but the bursts showed so dimly against the night that the two foxes had to verify with each other that they were seeing anything at all.

"Looks like they're having a bit of a storm down in lower Mossflower ... "

"You can see it too? Thought I might've been imagining things ... Doesn't really look or sound like any thunderstorm I've ever seen before."

"Well, when'd you ever watch a storm from this high up before?"

"True. I wouldn't want to be up here in any kind of wicked weather ... although that storm to the south almost looks like it'd pass below us if it came up this way. Assuming it is a storm ... "

"What else could it be? You're hearing the rumbles and seeing the lightning same as I am, right? It's been drizzling and raining up here all night, with clouds so thick there's no sign of moon or stars. Only makes sense that some parts of the lands might be getting heavier weather than we are. But I'll agree with you about one thing: staying up on this oversized lightning rod in a bad storm wouldn't be any picnic!"

The two junior swordsbeasts could be forgiven their false conclusion. As one had pointed out to the other, when had either of them ever observed a distant storm from such a vantage as this? The conditions did indeed seem perfect for thunder and lightning to be afflicting some part of Mossflower tonight, and that same drizzle and mist and fog muted the explosions ravaging the shrew fortress, giving the fox lookouts a rather obscured view of the battle. On top of it all, none of Urthblood's swordfoxes had ever seen the stormpowder in use, and thus had no basis for comparison in their realm of firstpaw experience. They'd all heard Klystra's account of that winter and spring's coastland conflicts between Urthblood and Tratton, but who among them would have imagined that these terrible new searat weapons would be unleashed against any target so far inland? Especially on a night such as this? No, a localized thunderstorm made more sense, particularly when the distant rumbles and dim flashes kept up intermittently most of the way until morning.

Not being any kind of expert weatherbeasts, the two foxes never stopped to wonder why the storm persisted only over one point on the south horizon. Nor did the very slight brightening of that region - almost as if some impossibly huge bonfire had been lit there - strike them as anything worthy of undue alarm.

All of that changed with dawn's first light. The light rain slacked off with morning's approach - while the disturbance to the south continued unabated - and the cloud cover overhead gradually thinned until the fuzzy moon and a few of the brightest stars showed through the wispy remnants of the overcast. Long before the first glimpse of the rising sun could be had even from the extreme heights of the watchtower, the gray kiss of the new day provided sufficient contrast between the silvering skies and the shadowed lands to reveal the massive smoke column rising from the ruins of Doublegate.

The two foxes almost ran over each other in their haste to ring the alarm bells.

Just as the lookouts on the observation deck could be alerted by a bell when somebeast down below wished to be winched up in the lift, so a reverse system of pullropes allowed the isolated sentries to raise an alarm if they spotted something they deemed important enough to justify summoning Tolar. Trying to shout all the way down to ground level from this height would of course be an exercise in futility, and not even a large bell located up on the tower's apex would be easily heard by those down in the main fortress. Thus, a separate bell was located outside the base of the elevator shaft, which could be rung by the towertop sentries using the same taut ropes that enabled a creature below to request a ride up. It was a primitive and limited means of communication over such a large vertical distance, and now it would receive its first test.

Clang! Clang! Clang!

The mole snoozing in his chair at the bottom of the tower staircase jerked to attention at the urgent triple tolling. Any thought in his sleep-clouded mind that he might have been dreaming was dispelled by a second series of three rings: the emergency signal. He rose from his chair to rouse Tolar, but was stopped in his tracks by a third set of clangs. Now, what was the procedure for cases like this again? Oh, yes ... The mole tottered over to the bellropes and gave two sharp pulls of his own, followed by another two. This would let the foxes up above know that their signal had been received, and that the proper beasts were being notified.

Tolar was already out of his bedding, washing and dressing for the new day, when the mole appeared at the door to his room. The fox Sword listened to the brief report, then hastened to the rooms of his Redwall guests.

Alex and Mina cracked their eyes and sat up on their bed mats at Tolar's knock, having been stirred from deep slumbers by the noises in the hall. "Come on in," Alex said sleepily, expecting it to be one of his fellow Redwallers, or one of the Northlanders checking on their needs. The two squirrels were most surprised to see the swordfox chieftain step into the room.

"My Lady, we may have a situation. Would you please come with me? Alex, would you be so kind as to fetch Colonel Clewiston and meet me and Mina down at the tower lift?"

In very short order all four of them stood gathered around the elevator platform. On their way downstairs Alex and the Colonel had passed many of the other swordfoxes, and their purposeful hurry made it clear that they were mobilizing for defensive reasons. "What is it, Tolar?" Alex asked. "Another attack?"

"I'm not sure." Tolar thrust forward a wrinkled sheet of parchment. "My lookouts up there had the presence of mind to scrawl this message, roll it into a ball and toss it down here."

Alex took the rumpled sheet, while Clewiston read it over his shoulder. There, scratched out in thick charcoal, were the words:

HUGE FIRE IN LOWER MOSSFLOWER

"How big?" Alex wondered.

"An' how blinkin' close to us ... an' Redwall?" added the Colonel.

"We won't find out until we get up there," said Tolar. "At least it appears that we're not under any immediate threat, although I've recalled the wall construction crews and put everybeast on high alert, just to be safe. My foxes wouldn't have sounded the alarm if they didn't think the situation called for me to join them up there. I thought you would want to accompany me, since you are three of Redwall's chief defenders, and this may concern you as well." He stepped up onto the lift, beckoning for them to follow. "Shall we?"

Once they were all centered upon the platform, the watchmole hauled on the bellrope to signal the foxes above to winch up the elevator. They didn't have to wait long before the mechanism began bearing them upward. It seemed to Clewiston that this ascent was noticeably more rapid than on his previous visit to the observation deck.

"They sure aren't wasting any time, wot?" the hare observed.

"They know this isn't a situation that calls for doing things leisurely." Tolar reached up and commenced the periodic ringing of the lift bell.

"Will there be anybeast to put the safety crossbeams in position this early?" inquired Alexander.

Tolar nodded. "They're on duty day and night, since we never know when we might need to go up on short notice. It diverts beastpower from the construction of the outer wall, it's true, but I would rather be prepared for circumstances such as this."

"I wonder what kind of fire it is?" Mina mused. "It smells to me like we had rain during the night. You wouldn't think any kind of large fire could take under such conditions."

"I do believe you're right about the rain, M'Lady." Tolar shrugged. "It could be that the wetness was very localized, and much of southern Mossflower remained dry. We'll know more when we reach the top."

A tense silence settled over the four of them for the remainder of their ascent. While Tolar diligently occupied himself with the evenly-spaced ringings of his bell to alert the safety crews of their approach, he clearly was filled with anxiety and impatience, and the others suspected he would just as soon have bypassed the elevator altogether and bolted up the endless staircase under his own power. But naturally he would want to conserve his strength in case some crisis did indeed lie before him this day. Running all the way to the top of Foxguard's tower might get Tolar there faster, but he wouldn't be in any shape to serve as a commander after such a workout - at least not without a long rest to rejuvenate himself.

At last the featureless curving walls of the upper shaft gave way to the open chamber of the observation deck. The four passengers stepped off the wood platform onto the more solid stone floor while the two lookouts at the crank stood back from the handles, shaking and flexing their paws. "We could sure use some gloves for that thing, sir," said one. "Getting all of you up here so fast raised blisters on every one of my pads!"

"It is work better suited to otters," Tolar admitted, "but you happened to be the ones up here for this emergency."

"You got the note we threw down, sir?"

"Yes. How bad does it look?"

The fox lookout motioned toward the doorway leading out to the observation balcony. "Best if you just see for yourself, sir."

"Of course." Tolar led the hare and squirrels out into the high morning air. The sight that greeted them was much the same as that which had spurred the two watchers to alert Tolar in the first place. If anything, the dark pillar stood out even more prominently now that the morning had brightened. While the newly-risen sun flooded its golden rays over the forestlands to the east and lit the upper reaches of the watchtower with a clean rosy glow, Mossflower to the south was dominated by the twisting smoke column that drew a line upon green woods and blue sky, splitting the world in two.

"By my blade!" gasped Tolar.

"Great fur and acorns!" muttered Alex.

"Bally bloomin' blinkin' blazes!" grunted Clewiston.

Mina looked to the swordfox chieftain. "Do you think it's Doublegate?"

"Don't know what else it could be ... " Tolar raised his long glass to his eye and peered through it toward the scene of destruction, fiddling with the optical instrument to bring it into focus. Doublegate lay far enough to the south that the fortress itself had never been visible from Foxguard, but Tolar knew roughly where it must be located amidst the green expanses of lower Mossflower that extended nearly to the southern horizon. To the best of the swordfox's knowledge, the base of that monumental burning matched where the shrew stronghold must have stood.

"It can't be an ordinary forest fire," Tolar said. "It's too tightly confined to one spot for that. And yet there must be a tremendous amount of wood burning for us to be able to see it so clearly from here. It simply has to be Doublegate, much as I hate to say it."

"Do you think they were attacked?" asked Alex.

"I think that's what it would have to be," replied Tolar. "Lord Urthblood's shrews would never just stand by and let an accidental fire grow to consume their entire garrison. And my bet's on Snoga being behind this. I can't think of anybeast else in that part of Mossflower who would dare to move against Lord Urthblood's forces so boldly ... and we know that villain is dastardly enough to use fire as a weapon. He's shown that he prefers sneak attacks and ambushes over honest combat, so this would fit with his way of operating."

One of the lookout foxes spoke up then. "Uh, sir? It may've been more than just fire ... " He proceeded to describe to Tolar and the Redwallers the distant "thunderstorm" he and his shiftmate had witnessed during the predawn hours.

Mina glanced sharply at Tolar. "That sounds more like Tratton's new weapon." It was as much a question as a statement.

"But that doesn't make any sense!" Tolar protested. "What would searats be doing so far inland?"

"What would Snoga's gang be doing with searat weapons?" Mina countered.

"We know the searats made it that far inland at least once before," Alex said in support of Mina, "since that's where their underwater craft was found last summer. Maybe they snuck up to Doublegate in another ship just like that first one."

"If Tratton found out Lord Urthblood had captured that vessel and was holding it at Doublegate, it's entirely possible that he might send an expedition there to try to reclaim it," said Mina. "And after the losses his fleet suffered these past two seasons, he might have chosen that time and place to stage a major strike against us."

Tolar chewed on his lower lip as he considered this. At length he said, "Then we had better let Lord Urthblood know about this."

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Klystra didn't have to fly very far or search very hard to find what he was looking for.

No sooner had the falcon officer cleared the mountain range and turned his piercing vision to a general survey of Mossflower than he spotted the impossible-to-miss smoke column rising from the south, where he knew Doublegate to be. The dark, twisting pillar arose too far inland and south to have been visible from Salamandastron, but riding these upper thermals farther above the ground than even the summit of Foxguard, this signal of calamity could not be overlooked. Surely this must be what Lord Urthblood had dispatched him to investigate. Dipping his right wing lower, Klystra turned his flight path toward the forbidding beacon.

It became clear as he approached the ruined and burning fortress that Doublegate must be a total loss. From the amount of flame and smoke being put up by the conflagration, the bird captain could not imagine how any of Tardo's shrews might have survived such a disaster. The vast quantity of shrew bodies strewn across the clearing outside the garrison's north gates seemed to support this view, although they looked to have been slain in battle, not by burning or suffocation. Klystra couldn't begin to imagine what had possibly happened here, and his confusion only deepened when his circling survey carried him over the river along the south side of the fort and he saw that the searat submarine now rested entirely below the waters, sunk and useless.

Klystra spiraled in closer - as close as he dared, for he did not wish to become embroiled in the rising smoke, whose soot would clog his plumage and hinder flight - and saw that his original pessimistic prognosis was thankfully incorrect. A good two hundred shrews stood or sat in the courtyard between the collapsed barracks house and the crumbling outer fortifications. A few even stood upon the ramparts above the gate, which looked to be the only remaining intact section of the inner wall. How they were managing to stay there without choking or being overcome by woodsmoke Klystra couldn't fathom, but then those Northland shrews always had been a tough lot.

Giving a repeated series of cries to alert the shrews below to his presence, Klystra glided low over the parade grounds and settled to a landing just outside the gates.

It didn't take long for those gates to open and for Captain Tardo to emerge along with a small contingent of his fellow shrews, racing out to trade reports with their falcon comrade-in-arms. They glanced about them anxiously as they went, clearly on the lookout for the beasts who'd done this to them.

Tardo stopped before the much larger bird. "Lord Urthblood sent you?"

Klystra gave an emphatic nod. "Sensed something wrong, didn't know where, so sent me from Salamandastron to investigate. What happened?"

"It was Snoga's gang," Tardo growled. "At least, they were shrews, so I figger it hadta be Snoga. But they wasn't workin' alone - they had rats with 'em too."

"Rats?"

"Aye. Searats is my guess, judgin' by that explosive stuff they used t' blast our walls, demolish our barracks an' sink that iron boat."

"Searats?" Klystra was still having trouble absorbing this. "Snoga made alliance with Tratton?"

"Sure looks that way. Some o' my shrews swear th' force that ambushed us must've had some otter slingers with 'em too. I never saw any waterdogs flingin' rocks at us, but those rats I did get a good eyeful of. Rat's 'n' shrews workin' t'gether, no doubt about it."

"You all right?" Klystra could see from Tardo's red-rimmed eyes, sooty and disheveled fur and slumped stance that he'd been through Hellsgates this night just passed, and wondered whether the shrew captain would even be able to keep on his feet for the duration of this conversation.

"All right?" Tardo barked in a raspy, mirthless laugh. "Lessee, my command's been destroyed, the ship I was charged with protectin' got all its gaskets blown, more'n half my troops've been slaughtered, an' th' rest of us have breathed in so much smoke there's no tellin' which of us might not make it through 'til nightfall. Yeah, I'm just peachy!"

Klystra merely stared at Tardo in that silent and stoic way that only birds of prey can, letting the shrew's exasperated outburst pass without comment.

"Right. Sorry. Been a long night. It'd be a big help t' us if'n we knew it was safe fer us t' come out here where we could get away from all that smoke - th' worst of it, anyways. Didja happen t' see any sign of their positions on yer way down here?"

"Tree cover hides all beyond clearing." Klystra nodded toward the distant tree line that surrounded Doublegate on three sides. "Could not see anybeast beneath them."

"Great. Now we don't have a clue whether this wood's still swarmin' with that verminous scum or if they've hightailed it outta here. They was even in th' forest 'cross th' river, lobbin' those thunderkegs at us. Guess they musta brought in some catapults, jus' like they hit us with along th' shore last winter. That's what took apart our barracks. An' here I thought takin' this assignment would spare me ever havin' t' be subjected to a poundin' like that again!"

"Catapults? So far inland?" Klystra questioned.

"Well, if they weren't catapults, they were th' next worst thing. They were able t' strike our barracks roof from clear on th' south streambank. Never got a look at 'em m'self - we was all too busy dodgin' them blasts an' flyin' wreckage."

"Never heard of catapult in woods. How they get so close, and you not know?"

Tardo scowled at the raptor. "So, when can we expect reinforcements?"

"Must report all this back to Lord Urthblood, then he will decide what to do. But first, I will scout area again, see if enemies near. Also, look for Snoga. I let outlaw shrews escape me once, now has come to this." Klystra nodded toward the nearly-destroyed garrison. "Must not allow Snoga to escape second time."

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The searat archers stepped off the logboats onto the south banks of the broadstream and set out through the murky morning woods to rejoin Kothar, never once realizing that they passed within a few paces of the hare who was hunting them.

Hanchett had chosen his hiding place well. After putting what he judged to be safe distance between himself and the catapult rats, the Long Patrol hare had gone to ground within a stone's throw from the river, ensconced deeply enough into the underbrush that only a highly skilled trackerbeast might have any hope of uncovering him. The distant concussions of Kothar's bombardment continued for some time after that, but eventually slacked off to silence. Tucked away in the recesses of the damp predawn forest as he was, Hanchett could no longer spy the light from Doublegate's burning, and so in that dark solitude he hunkered, waiting to see what the imminent day would bring.

Shortly before the welcoming ghostlight of dawn began to suffuse the trees, with the woodlands lying in mute shock from the blow they had received this night, the sound of boating activity reached Hanchett's ears. By the time he stirred himself from his overgrown nook and crept down to the water's edge to investigate, Snoga's vanguard of retreaters had already faded into the gloom upriver on their way back to the big inland lake. With a shrug, Hanchett returned to his makeshift blind. Hares were not suited to nocturnal activity - indeed, he'd stubbed both footpaws and badly bruised his shin during his flight through the forest to escape the searats - and he was resigned to wait until daybreak to resume his hunt.

It just so happened that Hanchett had settled down almost directly across the river from where the True Guosim had stashed their logboat fleet for safekeeping during their attack on Doublegate. Now, with the misty gray daylight beginning to assert itself and the dread stillness finally being broken by the trilling, whistling birdsong to greet the new morning, Hanchett's preparations to get underway were interrupted by a much larger commotion from the opposite banks than before. Slinking down to the riverside so that he wouldn't miss the action this time, he saw dozens of logboats being hauled out of the woods by over a hundred shrews, along with a few rats and otters among them.

"So, Snoga's makin' his getaway, wot?" Hanchett muttered to himself. "He never changes, does he? Make a big mess o' things, slay an' hurt a whole lotta innocent beasts, then sneak away 'fore he's made t' face the bally music! Hmm ... can't quite pick him outta that unruly mishmash, but he's sure to be around somewhere. Coward like that wouldn't dare go about without lots of his bullies t' back him up, 'specially after wot he just pulled. Let's see where this gang of murderers is headed ... "

Hanchett was mildly surprised when the boats bearing the rats made straight across the broadstream toward him. He'd pulled back far enough so that he would be able to shadow the flotilla without being seen once they got underway, but now he was forced to stage a full-scale retreat back into his former shelter, going to ground once more even as the searats set foot on the banks a short distance away.

He monitored their every move as they trooped past him, striking out to the west, back along the path of the river toward the catapult positions. Clearly they sought to rendezvous with their fellow rats. Equally clearly, the shrews and otters had no intention of accompanying them, for even as the seavermin disappeared amongst the trees, the logboats pointed their prows upstream and their crews bent their backs to their oars to propel them against the currents. Whatever alliance had existed between Snoga and the searats, those arrangements now seemed to be at an end.

There was no question in Hanchett's mind which way he would go. The searats might still be looking for him, but even if they weren't, they would certainly be on the alert for his possible return. He was unarmed, whereas they were battle-hardened soldier rats. But more than any of this, he had no personal quarrel with Tratton's force, in spite of the way they'd treated him and their part in the attack on Doublegate. That was between Urthblood and the Searat King. Snoga, on the other paw ...

The last time Hanchett had clamped eyes on the outlaw shrew leader on these waters, Snoga had been aboard a lone logboat borne so swiftly upon these currents that he was gone before anybeast - even his long-legged hare pursuer - could come close to catching up with him. This force before Hanchett now was far too large to pull such a disappearing act, and their upstream course would slow their progress enough so that the hare would have no trouble keeping up with them as he shadowed their fleet from the shore. His biggest challenge would be staying hidden himself while never letting his quarry out of his sight, but Hanchett felt confident that he was up to the task. He was a hare of the Long Patrol, after all.

Waiting just long enough to make sure the searat archers were safely gone, Hanchett broke from his cover and went into a jog, keeping one eye on the woods in front of him and the other on the logboats visible between the passing trees.

The hunt was on again.