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War is not about dying for your country. It's about making the other son of
a bitch die for his. - General George Patton
Trey awoke that morning early, as he always did. He watched the sun rise over his beloved Abbey, flooding his room with light. Forcing himself to rise, he pulled on his green tunic and then walked into the kitchen where he warmed up the morning fires and grabbed an apple. Polishing it on his shirt he gazed admiring at the abbey grounds. Walking to the gatehouse he crept past a slumbering Nett and grabbed his sword from were it rested on the wall. Standing at the abbey pond, Trey admired the sword as the morning sun reflected off the blade. Spinning the blade up in the air it twirled up and then Trey caught its black pommel handle right before it hit the ground, blade first. Spinning the blade faster and faster he half closed his eyes in concentration. Then with a cry, he grabbed the blade and cleaved the fallen apple core in two. Tugging the sword free from where it was stuck point first in the earth, he started spinning it again, so fast that it seemed as if he was waving a silver banner and not his lethal sword of metal. He spun his sword in figure eights and butterflies, finally closing his exercise by chopping a thick oaken barrel laying near-by in half. The blade struck all the way through, burying it's self in the ground. Tugging it free Trey glanced up and saw Nett coming toward him from the abbey. "Ahoy there, Trey." yelled Nett. "It's been a while since you took out yore blade. Usually you just swim laps in the pond."
"Yes, well, I think I might need this blade soon. But you can't have come over here just to watch me exercise. What's going on?" asked Trey, sheathing his sword in it's black leather case.
"Breakfast is starting Trey, and the abbess wants ta see you. Something about an announcement."
"Err, right, I'll be right there Nett." said Trey. Walking along the great hall, Trey turned and glanced at the Tapestry of Martin the Warrior. Suddenly in a flash he remembered last night's dream. Entering Cavern Hole from where he could smell breakfast he took his usual seat next to the Abbess and said hello.
"My friends," said the Abbess, rising from her seat. A polite silence filled the room as the jolly Redwallers became quiet to listen to their mother Abbess. "As you know," continued the Abbess, "Our friends, Rive and Sinetra have just returned from the East Coast. They have returned with dire news. Lord Dunbar of the East Coast is under attack by a large army of vermin. Being Redwallers we have pledged to protect the weak and help the injured. Our abbey warrior, Trey, has volunteered to lead an army to assist Lord Dunbar. Are there any volunteers?" At once everyone started talking. Then the otter chieftain, Skipper, whacked his tail on the banquet table. At once order was restored. The otter was strong and muscular with a sling tied around his waist.
"Redwall has always helped my crew when we're in need. I'll join you my friend." Log-a-Log, the shrew chieftain lifted his infant son off his lap and handed him to his wife. "The Guosim shrews of Mosseflower, will go with you, it has been long seasons since there was a good fight."
Soon after as breakfast was being cleared away, Trey led his army out onto the Abbey grounds. Some two hundred otters and shrews made up most of the army, and then there was a few squirrels archers and the rest were hedgehogs and mice and one or two moles led by their leader, the Foremole. All of them were armed and with a nod from Trey they formed in ranks. Taking the leaders to one side he spoke to Log-a-Log, skipper and Foremole.
"Well, skipper, Lo-a-Log, your warriors are certainly well trained and the moles can sling, but the rest have hardly ever fired a shot in anger before, and they form at least a sixth of our army. So keep an eye on our new recruits.
"Wait Trey wait!" distracted by the call Trey turned to see who it was. It was Rive and Sinetra running towards him. "We're coming to!" yelled Rive.
Each was armed with short daggers and carried provisions. Trey saw the Abbess, along with some other interested folk walking down to say good- bye. And to Sinetra's surprise Trey only nodded and showed them to where they were supposed to march. At last as they were formed up in ranks of four, Trey yelled for the chieftains to take their places up-front with him. Then he bowed to the Mother Abbes who presented him with his sword.
"Thank you, good mother Abbess, I pledge upon this sword and my honor as a warrior, to bring this sword back safely to the Abbey with the East Coast safe once more. Then to the sound of rousing cheers he saluted the Abbess with his sword and holding it up right like a flag, led forth his army into the green tranquility of Mossflower Woods, heading east.
Frindel nodded to the captain to make his report and inwardly groaned. He had a terrible, splitting, headache from last night's wine. "Enemy is formed up, right over the ridge on top of a hill. Can't tell 'ow many sire." The ferret having made his report saluted and snapped to attention, eyes staring straight ahead. Dismissing the ferret, who gladly scurried away, Frindel called one of his personal guards to him.
"Send Scringe to me right away." The guard nodded then left. Frindel studied his map, set out before him. There should be a river to his right side, hills in front of him. Fringe carefully studied the map, suddenly interrupted by an old ferret covered with scars and wearing the rags of what was once a grand cloak. An old rusted cutlass hung at his side. "Scringe, take your division and cross the river, march forward two miles. Then cross back over. This will bring you in behind the enemy. Tonight at the signal, attack them from the back; the rest will attack from the front. Understood?" asked Frindel.
"Yes sir!"
"Alright", said Frindel. "Get outta here, oh and Scringe." said Frindel,
"Yes sir?" asked Scringe as he turned around.
"Don't screw up!" yelled Frindel as he dug his claws into the ferret's back.
Stepping out of his tent, Frindel headed to a slightly smaller tent nearby, motioning for two of his guards to follow him. At the entrance he yelled in, "Half Tail, Randall, Badfang, Harren, and Longear, get out here!"
"Says who!" replied a sleepy voice. Seething with rage, Frindel grabbed a spear and began whacking the befuddled officers inside. "Your commander, that's who", he replied. Grabbing their smarting behinds, the five unlucky officers ran out and formed in a line, wearing bits and pieces of armor and uniform. Shaking his head in disgust, Frindel walked up and down the line. His sinewy arms still holding the spear. Snapping the spear in half with his incredible strength, he tossed it away. The five rats in front of him drew back silently. "Listen carefully you five. Each of you takes your beasts and has them form up. With five hundred beasts you should have enough, I want you take that hill. Or at least keep the defenders busy for today. Tonight your beasts can fall back, ten others will replace you all, for the night attack. Now go, and in the name of King Reonmad, the ruler of the dead, may we have a victory by tonight.
Not bothering to finish dressing, the five officers began calling out to aids. Soon they were formed up, and the lone drummer began to play as the five hundred with Scringe's hundred in front began to march.
Inside the tent, the remaining fourteen officers watched them march off. They were all big, strong rats. As Scringe was the only ferret officer. "I tell ya, mates, Frindel has gone mad, he has." said Deadpaw. "Aye your right there matey, but he's also a grand general." replied one of his brother officers. "Well the way I figure is wee's let him beat the mice, then we slip a knife in his ribs during the night. Aye, after that we can take care of that old fool, Reonmad to. Then we'll have the East Coast and the island to ourselves. We'll live like kings, with no beast to boss us around. Who's with me?" asked Deadpaw, sticking out his own sword. Giggling like naughty dibbins they crossed swords with Deadpaw. "We're with you mate, we're with you."
Feldco was a military genius. It's true. Dunbar walked into the tent followed by Feldco. "Well, make your report Feldco. Are the troops in position?"
Feldco looked up, nodding the affirmative. "Och, course they're en position. The river voles just finished ferrying the rest across. Positions 'ave been takin' op on both sides of the river, mousey."
"Then come with me, we'll inspect the positions." Their tent had been set next to a small dusty road that wound down the hill. At all times, day and night, carts heaving food and weapons and new recruits were swarming up the side of the hill. At the very edge of these hills, small, shallow holes were dug into the ground. In every one of these sat two soldiers next to the embers of last night's campfire. Most were wearing capes to keep warm against the morning chill. All nodded pleasantly and gave a cheer at the sight of Dunbar. Slowly Dunbar watched as the morning sun burned away the fog, illuminating the green valley below. Suddenly the hill stopped, and Dunbar was looking down a tall cliff. Below them the water ran swift, treacherous, and sparkling blue. About twenty archers stood behind a small stonewall, guarding the river below them. At a nod from Feldco the captain, a squirrel, fired a burning shaft across the river in a tall arc. Before disappearing in the fog on the other side. Then, almost immediately, a second burning shaft thudded near the captain's foot. Peering as hard as he could, Dunbar could just make out several dark figures on the other side.
"We 'ave two-hunnered and fifty on the other side, just as planned. Their unnder da command of an otter named Galo. He is a very cappable cap'tain. So Och took the liberty of promoting him. Also sire, Ah'm pleased to report that we 'ave nnother fifty recruits, o'ver here sir. Waiting for your inspection sir." Turning around, Dunbar was confronted by fifty of the most terrified creatures he had seen. The cause of their sorrow was evident by looking at their drill sergeant The burly hedgehog glowered over them, tapping his pace stick in his other paw as he strode past their ranks. The recruits were clothed in the green and white capes of the east army, armed with dirks and slingshots. Though even with the hedgehog's (who Dunbar rembered as being named Hervey) best efforts, a few of the recruits still sported their straw farm hats or other garments of a more peaceful life.
At Hervey's command the recruits marched across the length of the hill, did a back face and marched back to the other side, under the stern gaze of Dunbar and Feldco. Then they sent a volley of stones at several targets then reloaded and fired again. A very creditable exercise, thought Dunbar. Finally they drew their dirks, and in groups of five, proceeded to rip the targets to shreds. The recruits beamed up at Dunbar and Feldco and started chattering among themselves, knowing they had performed very well.
"Now you are soldiers, excellent drill. Hervey, show them to their positions and divide them into two squads. They can join Colonel Clubtail's beasts. Dismissed sergeant. Now then, is there anything else to attend to Feldco?" asked Dunbar, watching the new recruits march away. "Sire, I a'm goin to send down a hundered skrimishers at the base of the hills." " Why certainly Feldco, that's a capital idea." Feldco left Dunbar to watch the river below as he rounded up his troops. The morning sun shone brightly on the East Army, a sense of peace fell over the army, a peace soon to be shattered by war.
Fog still hung at the bottom of the hill, not yet burned away by the sun's rays. A young squirrel drew back his bow. Aiming at the shadowy figures in front he waited until he could tell they were indeed vermin. Laying his arm over a branch he took aim at a rat's torso. Relaxing the string with trembling fingers, he sent up a silent prayer. Taking a deep breath he picked up his bow again. Then drawing back the bow as far as it could go, he fired.
Review. More Reviews= More chapters More often.
War is not about dying for your country. It's about making the other son of
a bitch die for his. - General George Patton
Trey awoke that morning early, as he always did. He watched the sun rise over his beloved Abbey, flooding his room with light. Forcing himself to rise, he pulled on his green tunic and then walked into the kitchen where he warmed up the morning fires and grabbed an apple. Polishing it on his shirt he gazed admiring at the abbey grounds. Walking to the gatehouse he crept past a slumbering Nett and grabbed his sword from were it rested on the wall. Standing at the abbey pond, Trey admired the sword as the morning sun reflected off the blade. Spinning the blade up in the air it twirled up and then Trey caught its black pommel handle right before it hit the ground, blade first. Spinning the blade faster and faster he half closed his eyes in concentration. Then with a cry, he grabbed the blade and cleaved the fallen apple core in two. Tugging the sword free from where it was stuck point first in the earth, he started spinning it again, so fast that it seemed as if he was waving a silver banner and not his lethal sword of metal. He spun his sword in figure eights and butterflies, finally closing his exercise by chopping a thick oaken barrel laying near-by in half. The blade struck all the way through, burying it's self in the ground. Tugging it free Trey glanced up and saw Nett coming toward him from the abbey. "Ahoy there, Trey." yelled Nett. "It's been a while since you took out yore blade. Usually you just swim laps in the pond."
"Yes, well, I think I might need this blade soon. But you can't have come over here just to watch me exercise. What's going on?" asked Trey, sheathing his sword in it's black leather case.
"Breakfast is starting Trey, and the abbess wants ta see you. Something about an announcement."
"Err, right, I'll be right there Nett." said Trey. Walking along the great hall, Trey turned and glanced at the Tapestry of Martin the Warrior. Suddenly in a flash he remembered last night's dream. Entering Cavern Hole from where he could smell breakfast he took his usual seat next to the Abbess and said hello.
"My friends," said the Abbess, rising from her seat. A polite silence filled the room as the jolly Redwallers became quiet to listen to their mother Abbess. "As you know," continued the Abbess, "Our friends, Rive and Sinetra have just returned from the East Coast. They have returned with dire news. Lord Dunbar of the East Coast is under attack by a large army of vermin. Being Redwallers we have pledged to protect the weak and help the injured. Our abbey warrior, Trey, has volunteered to lead an army to assist Lord Dunbar. Are there any volunteers?" At once everyone started talking. Then the otter chieftain, Skipper, whacked his tail on the banquet table. At once order was restored. The otter was strong and muscular with a sling tied around his waist.
"Redwall has always helped my crew when we're in need. I'll join you my friend." Log-a-Log, the shrew chieftain lifted his infant son off his lap and handed him to his wife. "The Guosim shrews of Mosseflower, will go with you, it has been long seasons since there was a good fight."
Soon after as breakfast was being cleared away, Trey led his army out onto the Abbey grounds. Some two hundred otters and shrews made up most of the army, and then there was a few squirrels archers and the rest were hedgehogs and mice and one or two moles led by their leader, the Foremole. All of them were armed and with a nod from Trey they formed in ranks. Taking the leaders to one side he spoke to Log-a-Log, skipper and Foremole.
"Well, skipper, Lo-a-Log, your warriors are certainly well trained and the moles can sling, but the rest have hardly ever fired a shot in anger before, and they form at least a sixth of our army. So keep an eye on our new recruits.
"Wait Trey wait!" distracted by the call Trey turned to see who it was. It was Rive and Sinetra running towards him. "We're coming to!" yelled Rive.
Each was armed with short daggers and carried provisions. Trey saw the Abbess, along with some other interested folk walking down to say good- bye. And to Sinetra's surprise Trey only nodded and showed them to where they were supposed to march. At last as they were formed up in ranks of four, Trey yelled for the chieftains to take their places up-front with him. Then he bowed to the Mother Abbes who presented him with his sword.
"Thank you, good mother Abbess, I pledge upon this sword and my honor as a warrior, to bring this sword back safely to the Abbey with the East Coast safe once more. Then to the sound of rousing cheers he saluted the Abbess with his sword and holding it up right like a flag, led forth his army into the green tranquility of Mossflower Woods, heading east.
Frindel nodded to the captain to make his report and inwardly groaned. He had a terrible, splitting, headache from last night's wine. "Enemy is formed up, right over the ridge on top of a hill. Can't tell 'ow many sire." The ferret having made his report saluted and snapped to attention, eyes staring straight ahead. Dismissing the ferret, who gladly scurried away, Frindel called one of his personal guards to him.
"Send Scringe to me right away." The guard nodded then left. Frindel studied his map, set out before him. There should be a river to his right side, hills in front of him. Fringe carefully studied the map, suddenly interrupted by an old ferret covered with scars and wearing the rags of what was once a grand cloak. An old rusted cutlass hung at his side. "Scringe, take your division and cross the river, march forward two miles. Then cross back over. This will bring you in behind the enemy. Tonight at the signal, attack them from the back; the rest will attack from the front. Understood?" asked Frindel.
"Yes sir!"
"Alright", said Frindel. "Get outta here, oh and Scringe." said Frindel,
"Yes sir?" asked Scringe as he turned around.
"Don't screw up!" yelled Frindel as he dug his claws into the ferret's back.
Stepping out of his tent, Frindel headed to a slightly smaller tent nearby, motioning for two of his guards to follow him. At the entrance he yelled in, "Half Tail, Randall, Badfang, Harren, and Longear, get out here!"
"Says who!" replied a sleepy voice. Seething with rage, Frindel grabbed a spear and began whacking the befuddled officers inside. "Your commander, that's who", he replied. Grabbing their smarting behinds, the five unlucky officers ran out and formed in a line, wearing bits and pieces of armor and uniform. Shaking his head in disgust, Frindel walked up and down the line. His sinewy arms still holding the spear. Snapping the spear in half with his incredible strength, he tossed it away. The five rats in front of him drew back silently. "Listen carefully you five. Each of you takes your beasts and has them form up. With five hundred beasts you should have enough, I want you take that hill. Or at least keep the defenders busy for today. Tonight your beasts can fall back, ten others will replace you all, for the night attack. Now go, and in the name of King Reonmad, the ruler of the dead, may we have a victory by tonight.
Not bothering to finish dressing, the five officers began calling out to aids. Soon they were formed up, and the lone drummer began to play as the five hundred with Scringe's hundred in front began to march.
Inside the tent, the remaining fourteen officers watched them march off. They were all big, strong rats. As Scringe was the only ferret officer. "I tell ya, mates, Frindel has gone mad, he has." said Deadpaw. "Aye your right there matey, but he's also a grand general." replied one of his brother officers. "Well the way I figure is wee's let him beat the mice, then we slip a knife in his ribs during the night. Aye, after that we can take care of that old fool, Reonmad to. Then we'll have the East Coast and the island to ourselves. We'll live like kings, with no beast to boss us around. Who's with me?" asked Deadpaw, sticking out his own sword. Giggling like naughty dibbins they crossed swords with Deadpaw. "We're with you mate, we're with you."
Feldco was a military genius. It's true. Dunbar walked into the tent followed by Feldco. "Well, make your report Feldco. Are the troops in position?"
Feldco looked up, nodding the affirmative. "Och, course they're en position. The river voles just finished ferrying the rest across. Positions 'ave been takin' op on both sides of the river, mousey."
"Then come with me, we'll inspect the positions." Their tent had been set next to a small dusty road that wound down the hill. At all times, day and night, carts heaving food and weapons and new recruits were swarming up the side of the hill. At the very edge of these hills, small, shallow holes were dug into the ground. In every one of these sat two soldiers next to the embers of last night's campfire. Most were wearing capes to keep warm against the morning chill. All nodded pleasantly and gave a cheer at the sight of Dunbar. Slowly Dunbar watched as the morning sun burned away the fog, illuminating the green valley below. Suddenly the hill stopped, and Dunbar was looking down a tall cliff. Below them the water ran swift, treacherous, and sparkling blue. About twenty archers stood behind a small stonewall, guarding the river below them. At a nod from Feldco the captain, a squirrel, fired a burning shaft across the river in a tall arc. Before disappearing in the fog on the other side. Then, almost immediately, a second burning shaft thudded near the captain's foot. Peering as hard as he could, Dunbar could just make out several dark figures on the other side.
"We 'ave two-hunnered and fifty on the other side, just as planned. Their unnder da command of an otter named Galo. He is a very cappable cap'tain. So Och took the liberty of promoting him. Also sire, Ah'm pleased to report that we 'ave nnother fifty recruits, o'ver here sir. Waiting for your inspection sir." Turning around, Dunbar was confronted by fifty of the most terrified creatures he had seen. The cause of their sorrow was evident by looking at their drill sergeant The burly hedgehog glowered over them, tapping his pace stick in his other paw as he strode past their ranks. The recruits were clothed in the green and white capes of the east army, armed with dirks and slingshots. Though even with the hedgehog's (who Dunbar rembered as being named Hervey) best efforts, a few of the recruits still sported their straw farm hats or other garments of a more peaceful life.
At Hervey's command the recruits marched across the length of the hill, did a back face and marched back to the other side, under the stern gaze of Dunbar and Feldco. Then they sent a volley of stones at several targets then reloaded and fired again. A very creditable exercise, thought Dunbar. Finally they drew their dirks, and in groups of five, proceeded to rip the targets to shreds. The recruits beamed up at Dunbar and Feldco and started chattering among themselves, knowing they had performed very well.
"Now you are soldiers, excellent drill. Hervey, show them to their positions and divide them into two squads. They can join Colonel Clubtail's beasts. Dismissed sergeant. Now then, is there anything else to attend to Feldco?" asked Dunbar, watching the new recruits march away. "Sire, I a'm goin to send down a hundered skrimishers at the base of the hills." " Why certainly Feldco, that's a capital idea." Feldco left Dunbar to watch the river below as he rounded up his troops. The morning sun shone brightly on the East Army, a sense of peace fell over the army, a peace soon to be shattered by war.
Fog still hung at the bottom of the hill, not yet burned away by the sun's rays. A young squirrel drew back his bow. Aiming at the shadowy figures in front he waited until he could tell they were indeed vermin. Laying his arm over a branch he took aim at a rat's torso. Relaxing the string with trembling fingers, he sent up a silent prayer. Taking a deep breath he picked up his bow again. Then drawing back the bow as far as it could go, he fired.
Review. More Reviews= More chapters More often.