Hi! Busy day tomorrow, and I don't know if I'll be able to update, so I'm posting right now.
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Disclaimer: I own not Redwall! Or most of the characters in it.
Chapter 53
Martin led his attack force through the woods, making sure that everyone was as quiet as possible. They were close to the vermin camp, and Martin knew that there were groups spread out so that the vermin were surrounded.
It was a sound plan, Martin was sure. He also knew that they were determined enough, and strong enough to pull it off if they really tried.
There were no weak links in their group. Martin had been put over a group alongside Gonff, who'd expressed great relief about that, to Martin's bemusement.
"Are you all ready?" Martin asked, glancing back over the group. Gonff, Dinny, Skipper, Keyla, and Felldoh were all standing behind him. They all stood at the ready, while Amber and her archers were up in the trees above. They all looked determined, and Gonff grinned, ready for anything.
"Aye Martin, we're ready." Keyla responded. Everyone nodded in agreement, and Martin turned back towards the camp.
The battle was going to be fierce, but they were ready for it. Today there would be no more vermin in Noonvale.
Raxil was pleased. His horde was ready, and their bloodlust was strong. They would win this war, and the pitiful creatures in the valley would become his slaves, building a fortress that would tower over even the mountains.
The fox was arrayed in his battle armor, and his weapon, his massive sword, was waiting for him. There was no creature who had ever come face to face with him in battle and survived. He was honestly a much better fighter than he was a strategist, and he wondered why he hadn't just obliterated the creatures of the valley in the first place.
But that was no matter. After today he would rule their world. They would have no choice but to submit to him, and they would watch as he put their leaders to death one by one . . .
Sharpscratch cleaned his blade against the grass. Killing Varn hadn't taken much longer, but making his creatures look beat up without actually seriously injuring them had been difficult.
He'd also injured himself, knowing that it would be entirely unrealistic if he didn't also have wounds from battle.
He knew that the heron and the three owls were watching him, because at one point he'd been pulled aside by Blackgut and informed that they were being watched, although Blackgut hadn't known who was watching them at the time.
One of the owls, the young female, had managed to tell him that the creatures of the valley were going to be attacking the very next day. It was a good thing that Sharpscratch, Blackgut, and Silverclaw were only a few minutes away from the vermin camp, because otherwise they wouldn't have been able to make it back in time to pretend that they'd been attacked, and the other members of their party wiped out.
Sharpscratch finished cleaning his weapon and stuck it back through his belt. Silverclaw was using a rag to wipe the blood from her fur, and Blackgut was watching to make sure that they hadn't been discovered.
"Good job mates. I knew the two of ye would be able t' fight 'em until I got there. Didn't take us very long t' finish 'em off either eh?" He asked silkily. Silverclaw grinned and shook her head while Blackgut just smiled.
Sharpscratch sighed and scratched the side of his head absently. "Well mates, looks like we'd better go and explain ourselves to our great leader. I'm sure he'll be quite pleased with the mess we've invented fer ourselves."
The three laughed and headed towards the vermin camp. Of course Sharpscratch was more worried than he let on, but it was no use thinking about it. Either he would die and his plan would fail, or he would soon be in control of the horde and they would head back to the sea.
Sharpscratch knew that he would probably win. Raxil might have been a better fighter than he was a leader, but Sharpscratch had never lost a battle. That was the reason no one knew whether he was good with his blade or not.
Because no one ever lived to tell the tale.
Sharpscratch smiled, reassured once again at the thought of his recent battle against Varn and Karn. Their deaths head been swift, which was almost a pity. It had been quite a while since he'd had the chance to have a real fight.
Sharpscratch strolled calmly through the borders of the camp, ignoring the interested looks of the rats, weasels, foxes, stoats, and other vermin as he walked by. They were obviously getting ready for battle, which didn't surprise the ferret at all.
What did surprise him was the fact that Raxil was standing outside of his tent waiting for him.
The fox was much more intimidating than he usually was, with his battle armor, and the massive sword at his side, but Sharpscratch didn't even break his stride.
"My lord Raxil." He said, keeping all sarcasm from his voice as he bowed low in front of his leader. "I have returned, and unfortunately it is with bad news. I believe we were nearing their camp when we were attacked. We sadly lost Brownfang, Grunt, Varn, and Karn to these strange weak creatures, but Blackgut, Silverclaw and I escaped, rather than kill some of your precious slaves."
The ferret straightened, meeting his leader's eyes. He was very glad he'd had years of experience learning how to lie without it showing in your voice, your eyes, and your actions.
Raxil shook his head, looking regretful. "Pity mate, you seemed t' be the only one of my captains with any sort o' sense. Go an' join the ranks in preparin' for battle. I'll deal with yer failure later." He hissed.
Sharpscratch nodded, and turned away from his leader carefully. He was wary now. He knew that Raxil suspected him of something, and he wasn't going to allow himself to get a knife in his back. That wasn't a luxury afforded to creatures like him.
But it didn't matter. The battle was tomorrow, and he was going to win.
There we go.
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