Redwall Abbey (Now called Beastcrusher Castle)

Griv Beastcrusher looked at the tapestry of Martin the Warrior. Was it just him, or did the mouse look angry at the wolverine warlord? Growling, Griv lifted his claws and prepared to strike down, tearing at the tapestry.

"NOOO!" squeaked a voice. The small dormouse Friar Durglo leaped at the wolverine, hitting the side of Griv and causing the warlord to stumble and take a step back.

Griv grabbed the dormouse in mighty paw and lifted him to in front of his face. "Wot d'ye think yer doin', eh?"

Durglo gave a squeak of fear but tried to put on a brave face. "Y... Y... You shall n...not f... fight Martin the Warrior!"

"Aww, is the little mousey carin' for the pritty paintin'?" asked the weasel captain Rugfur jokingly. His companions all chuckled at the remark, with the exception of the taciturn bowbeast Dedmark Valldun.

From the wolverine's paw the friar called, "I'm a dormouse! And we're closer to squirrels than mice, anyway!"

Griv laughed, and threw the dormouse onto the floor. "Well, mousey. Do you know the price for attacking me?"

Durglo paled, as did the captains. They had been hoping for the dormouse to live because of the good food he made.

Rugfur chuckled cautiously. "Huhu. Well, uh... Lord Beastcrusher, don't ye think it's a little 'arsh? He didn't do much, I mean..."

The wolverine turned to the weasel, silencing him. "Dedmark!"

Wordlessly the strong ferret sighed and pulled out a longbow. Grabbing a long shaft with a sharpened flint at the end, he placed it and pulled back the arrow, taking careful aim.

Just before the ferret fired, Ragsnout called called loudly, pointing at the tapestry, "Wot wuz dat?"

The stoat turned sharply, knocking into Dedmark's elbow and sending the arrow flying towards the ceiling.

All the vermin toward to see where Ragsnout was pointing at Martin's tapestry. Meanwhile, Friar Durglo scampered off to the kitchens.

"Wot iz it, Rag?" asked Rugfur, confused.

The stoat blinked. "It... it lookt like de mousey paintin' moved!"

The vermin where confused. "Wot d'ye mean, Rag?" asked Rugfur.

The stoat kept his paw up. "'E like swung 'is sword, an' 'e looked really angry like!"

Griv Beastcrusher rolled his eyes. "Why are ye a captain, ye idjit? 'Ere, Firak, d'ye know any that could replace the hallucinatin' fool?"

The stoat stroked his beard thoughtfully, making sure he did not give away that he was plotting against Griv. Still, he saw the sword move too, but was clever enough to keep his mouth shut, though he was actually glad Ragsnout had seen it as well, because it saved the Friar. He answered, knowing that Griv would forget by luncheon, "No, not yet, though I might test some loyalties."

Griv shrugged. "Well, then, wot are ye still 'ere fer? Go, all of ye! Huh, workin' under Silvertung 'as made y'all soft, I sez."

They quickly obeyed their temperamental warlord. Running out to the orchard, Firak, Bludtail, and Gorbac walked around, looking back at the abbey.

In his deep voice, the hefty weasel Gorbac grumbled, "Bah, Silvertung's a much better ruler than 'im. Pity yer plan didn't work, Firak."

The burly stoat shrugged. "Mebbe 'e's right, bein' with Silvertung 'as changed us, now we won't be content with a simple-minded wolverine for a chief."

Bludtail nodded. "Yeah, I saw Weaseltail an' a bunch o' other mates gittin' ripped to shreds by a big pikefish, but did 'e care? No, but ole Silvertung would, that's fer sure. An' then 'e keeps sendin' us back out, we haven't lost any more, but it's only a matter o' time. Who's captaining the food party right now?"

"That would Captain Flogg," answered Firak.

"I bet tomorrow's lunch 'e comes back dead," said Bludtail.

Gorbac chuckled. "I'll take that. Captain Flogg will probably bring back something good, there could be a pheasant nest 'round 'ere, as we already got one. Hoho, I'd dearly like to get some pheasant again!"

Firak shrugged. "I'm not bettin' anything, 'tis foolish an' reckless. I'm goin' to go get Dedmark, we're goin' to need a new plan.

Mossflower Woods

The weasel Captain Flogg and his group were on full guard, with their weapons drawn and sniffing the air.

Flogg caught a whiff of something strange. "Hmm... 'old on, mates. Somethin' 'round 'ere. Trizo, d'ye know wot it is?"

The ferret Trizo, their tracker, sniffed an elm tree. "Many sh'ews, I t'ink. Smells f'miliar to when we battled dose sh'ews of the Guosssim with the woter rats."

Flogg frowned. "Well, wot're shrews doin' 'ere?"

Trizo shrugged. "I dunno, mebbe they're... argh!"

"Logalogalogalogalog!" The Guosim charged through the woods, on of them stabbing Trizo in the neck with his rapier.

The Guosim easily outnumbered them. They had already had them surrounded, and took them in, rapiers stabbing as the vermin screamed. The vermin attempted to fight back, but their numbers could not face up to the shrew's onslaught.

Captain Flogg thought quickly. He grabbed the shirt of the fastest one of his ranks he knew, a ferret called Fleez.

"You! I need you–"

Fleez slumped dead in the weasel's arms. Sighing, Flogg ducked his head and charged at a Guosim, killing the shrew with his scimitar. Turning around, he grabbed a small rat.

"You, I need you to run back to the castle an' get Griv. Once we get the whole force we'll be able to take 'em, I think. Not sure o' their numbers. Go!"

Flogg dropped his scimitar and threw the rat over five Guosim in his adrenaline. The rat gave a squeak and immediately jumped up and ran, the Guosim on his trail.

The Guosim were closing in. Flogg realized he made a mistake, they had at least four-hundred warriors, outnumbering those back at the abbey– castle. He gave a sigh as he rallied his remaining score of fighters. Pointing at the spot where there was the least Guosim, he called, "Charge!"

Flogg was no bad swordsman, and a clever tactician. He led his party through the Guosim ranks were the shrews were the least numerous, and he began to feel uplifted. They were going to make it!

"Charge! Charge! Charge!" he called, cutting down shrews with his scimitar like a farmer does with a scythe. "Haharr! Go!"

"Now!" came a voice from the trees.

An arrow came from the elm tree Trizo had sniffed, piercing Flogg's throat and killing the weasel instantly. Another volley of arrows were launched, eliminating the remaining vermin. Their shrieks were coupled with the laughs of Holly and her father Guggle from the tree.

oooooooooooooo

Holly and Guggle climbed down, chuckling.

"Good job, both of ye, young an' old!" congratulated Log a Log.

Holly smiled. "Thank you, Log– ah!"

An arrow whizzed through the air, catching her in the paw. She and her father gaped at the injury. Tears of pain begin brimming her eyes as she let out a small gasp. But before she could let out a larger cry, another arrow flew true, catching her in the throat. She gave a gurgle and collapsed to the ground.

"No!" called Guggle, dropping. "I can't lose you, I already lost yer mother! Log a Log, come help!"

Dando dropped to his knees. "Nothin' we–"

"Beastcrusher! Beastcrusher! Death will fall to ye!" came the calls of a large group.

Coming through the woods was a horde of barbaric beasts, armed to the fangs. There was at least one-hundred, but some could not be seen from behind the trees. Heading them was a small rat, behind him was a wolverine. The wolverine was massive, with mad yellow eyes, deadly fangs, wickedly curved claws, long, black fur, and he carried a ferocious spiked club. To his right was a tattooed stoat covered in such shaggy fur it was hard to even tell he was a stoat, he could easily be mistaken as something else, even an otter. To the wolverine's left was a big, wiry ferret in a mottled cloak that made him almost invisible in the trees, and he carried a great yew longbow he had just fired.

Guggle gave a growl and leaped forward towards the ferret, but his arm was grabbed by Log a Log. He protested, "Let me at 'em! C'mon!"

Dando shook his head. "Ye won't be convinced, will ye? Listen, we outnumber 'em, yer too old fer this."

Guggle growled and struggled. "Bah! Let me go!"

Dando gave a sigh– he had learned what was to be done. Picking the rock from Flogg's carcass, he lightly knocked the squirrel's head, setting him unconscious. He then drew his rapier. Charge!

Redwall, just over five minutes ago

The small rat burst into orchard breathless. "Cap'n Firak! We're under attack! From shrews! Git Griv!"

The stoat acted quickly. In a quick run, he had Griv out of the abbey.

The wolverine growled. "Wot d'ye wan'? Why d'ye bring me out 'ere?"

The rat explained what was going on; Griv just shrugged. "So? Gorbac, go git the 'orde."

As the weasel ran off, Firak took his chance to both win the battle, and get Ragsnout back in Griv's favor. "Ahem, sire, don't you think we need more of a strategy? Rat, what's yer name, and how many shrews were there?"

The rat picked at his ear. "Err, my name's Skivo, Cap'n. An' there was err, err, err, 'bout five 'undred, but we've taken 'bout two-score o' 'em, I t'ink."

Firak nodded. "Y'see, they outnumber us. Now, Great an' Powerful Griv Beastcrusher, I gotta plan, an' I know who to lead it. Ragsnout, c'mon!"

Ragsnout smiled, but Griv just shrugged. "Okay, do wot y'need. But y'better not mess up."

ooooooooooooooo

The horde ran off, not realizing something. With great ease, the laughing redwallers simply walked through the destroyed west wall. They were free! However, they forgot one of their number. Friar Durglo was still in the kitchens, unsure of what was going on.

Back to the battle

"Logalogalogalogalogalogalogalogalog!"

The shrews rushed forward, waving their rapiers. They hit the coming vermin strong, doubting what Firak's shout would say.

"Spears and pikes: Up!"

Just before the shrews reached them, all the vermin in rank one, about fifty ran five paces forward and pulled out a spear and pike they, then held it at the oncoming shrews. The effect was immediate. The Guosim, unable to stop themselves in their mad charge, struck the pikes hard, losing many of their soldiers. Their cries rent the air as the weapons pierced them.

"'Ey, 'ey! Retreat two-score paces, git yer rapiers ready! Go! Go!" called Log a Log Dando.

Immediately the shrews ran back through the woods as their Log a Log had ordered, crushing the foliage. Once again, they did not expect Firak's next order.

"Ragsnout! Now!"

Immediately the other eight and a half-score of vermin charged from the woods. As Griv's group had marched forward, they had snuck behind. Their front ranks too carried spears and pikes, and they struck the back of the shrews hard and deadly, killing many more. Ragsnout's laugh was hearable over the din of screaming Guosim. Gasps of pain went into the air as Log a Log Dando realized their predicament. So quickly they had lost so many, and now they were almost surrounded, about to be crushed between two deadly forces.

Griv grinned. "Good work, stoat. Now, 'ow does this go? We just kill 'em? Can I go to the front lines?"

Firak shrugged, and immediately the wolverine laughed wickedly into the air and charged to meet the shrews, his deadly claws and club killing them with ease.

"Log a Log, wot'll we do?" asked a shrew called Obbdo. "They're slayin' us like a bird slays worms, an' now that big wolverine 'as come to fight! It's all 'appening so fast! We're losin' numbers quickly, chief."

The answer hit Dando like a lightning bolt. "I got it!" Raising his voice, he called to his shrews, "Strategy Orange! Strategy Orange!"

Strategy Orange was a signal for a shrew plan where they took advantage of their diminutive height. The effect was immediate. While the vermin charged forward, closing in on them, the shrews crouched down to even shorter heights and prepared their rapiers. The vermin in the front ranks stumbled as their targets dropped, and they were confused for a fatal second. Just as quick as the vermin were slaying them, the shrews jumped forward, stabbing with their rapiers, slaying the vermin.

Firak tugged his beard sharply as he saw his plan suddenly fail, with nearly all his spear and pikebeasts dying. Growling, he called, "Blast it, those shrews! Full charge, all o' ye! Don't let 'em live!"

The vermin immediately drew their own weapons and set to battle with the shrews. The air was rent with battlecries, order cries, and death cries. The only one enjoying himself was Griv Beastcrusher.

The wolverine's vision turned red and he felt his already swelled bloodlust increase. Striking down a shrew with his claws and slaying two with his club, he gave a bellow and charged forward into the shrew armies. Slaying and striking, he too gathered wounds, but took little notice of them. Killing like a madbeast, as he was, he dove through the forces, the shrews stood little chance against him. The vermin forces had gained the upper paw, and the shrews were losing their forces.

Firak gave a sigh of relief. They would still win this battle, though they faltered at Strategy Orange, drawing his weapon, a double headed battle-ax, he contentedly charged into the shrew forces, skillfully flicking away rapiers and slaying. They would win.

ooooooooooooo

Borgy and Mudgell Wiltud were pushing the great trebuchet, turning it to a different direction.

"'Ow much credit do y'think we'll git fer this, mate?" asked Mudgell.

Borgy frowned. "Oh, it'll go to those Guosim folk. We'll just git a lecture on 'ow we coulda killed our own forces."

Mudgell shrugged. "Yer right? So, why are we doin' this again?"

Borgy smiled. "Don't ye wanna see verminbeasts gittin' blown to bits?"

Mudgell laughed. "Yer right. Let's do this!"

oooooooooooooo

Boom!

The ground shook as the trebuchet projectile landed in the vermin horde, killing the vermin. Everybeast, even Griv Beastcrusher, stopped their fighting. Soon, another projectile flew through the air, this one killing vermin, but also a couple of shrews. Another one blasted forward, hitting the vermin. The fourth hit the shrews only, and the fifth took out from both sides.

Soon the beasts yelled in fear, not knowing who was being targeted. Scrambling about, some ran off through the trees away, some scrambled around, not sure of what to do. The trees fell with the blasts, crushing creatures on both sides. Screams were yelled into the air as both shrews and vermin scrambled to get away. Grabbing Guggle, Log a Log Dando and Obbdo ran with them into the woods.

Griv Beastcrusher growled, his battle had been ruined. Most of the projectiles had killed several of the vermin, his side was suffering incredible losses. Running back, he grabbed the arms of Firak and Dedmark.

"C'mon, we're outta 'ere. Back to the abbey."

Firak frowned. "Wot about the rest of the 'orde? Shouldn't we gather 'em up, or at least shout to 'em?"

Griv shook his head. "And let the shrews know where we're going? We left it unguarded, they'll probably leave some sort o' trap. Now let's go, you can grab others on the way, but don't go shoutin'."

Griv sighed. Grabbing Rugfur, he told them what was going on. They quietly slipped through the trees towards the abbey. Near it they found Gorbac and Skivo studying the ground.

"Err, err, I think the slaves 'ave escaped," said Skivo.

Griv shrugged. "Who cares? C'mon!"

They hurried through the destroyed east wall, where they found Ragsnout and Bludtail waiting, with six other vermin, Scarclaw, Warthide, Scabs, Slitear, Badtung, and Scorpaw.

Ragsnout smiled when they returned. "O master Beastcrusher, we've–"

Griv waved his paw. "I don't care. Lissen, those shrews are still out there, an' if they think to check 'ere they'll find us alone, right Firak?"

The stoat nodded. "Aye, Gorbac, y'said ye had a plan, didn't ye?"

The big weasel nodded. "Aye, 'tis better yer here, Rag, Bludtail, an' the rest. Now ye six, wot're yer names?"

"Scarclaw," said a wiry ferret.

"Warthide," said an ugly weasel.

"Scabs," said a big rat.

"Slitear," said a small rat.

"Badtung," said a fat stoat.

"Scorpaw," said a scowling weasel.

Gorbac nodded. "Okay. Now I want ye six to go an' run 'round, git as much vermin ye can find. Got it? Now go!"

The vermin nodded. Griv smiled. "Not bad, weasel, heh, soon if those shrews come back... we'll be ready!"