Chapter Ten
"What did I say just yesterday, Stormpaw?!"
Stormpaw stared coolly up at Nik, who had a look of fury on his face.
"Yeh said no goin' out an' I could be slain an' there's no point'n bloodshed afore the battle," the female otter said flatly.
"And what did you just do?!"
"Go out an' slay some vermin an' free the slaves an' git meself slain," Stormpaw replied sarcastically.
"Not funny, Stormpaw! You could've given away our position and all."
"Don't worry, Nik. I entered the forest'n a diff'rent spot, so don't go choppin' down yore trees just coz I went an' did wot I wanted to." Stormpaw patted the head of the small bankvole Marrik. "'Sides, these liddle uns got no 'ome an' they're mighty 'ungry. Right liddle mate?"
Marrik nodded happily as he spooned himself another bowl of pudding. "Marrik 'ungry. Me likes pudden. Wannamore."
Nik ignored the little vole and faced Stormpaw once more. "Look, Storm, now's not the time to be reckless—"
"An' I'm not reckless lest there's somethin' goin' on an' I'm in a tight corner," the otter interrupted. "Now, if'n ye'll 'scuse me, I've got t'eat brekkist. See ya, messmate."
And Stormpaw was gone, vanishing into the vegetation.
Painttail shook his head at Nik. "Y'don't think she's gone t'slay s'more, wot?"
"By the fur, Painttail, she's a defiant one. I'd be surprised if she comes to live at Redwall and gets old and feeble and has kids and all."
"Me too," Kippit piped up, tugging on his brother's arm.
"I wouldn't, wot," the hare replied, handing a bowl to a badgerbabe named Rose. "She looks fit t'die if'n she continues goin' round an' killin' the flippin' lot o' 'em. 'Ere, Rose, try some o' this."
* * *
Sarrico could not stand this anymore. He could feel it in his whiskers that the fighting would start some time that day. Taking extra precautions, he gathered his Captains, all weasels.
"Rugfur, Ziggat, an' Lashid, yew three take ten each an' ready 'em wi' spears. Dankclaw, Yunna, an' Pizcrook, yew three taker yer best archers an' git ready t'ambush the woodlanders when they come."
The only female Captain, Yunna, asked, "Wot if'n these woodlanders see through arr plan, Chief?"
Sarrico's cutlass what at the weasel's throat. "Are yew questionin' me orders?" he demanded.
"N-no Chief!"
Queen Nerygia could feel the battle spirit in the air as well. Her tribes, all well-trained fighters, knew what to do. They had been in many battles before and had always won, gathering more foxes for members. Those who they conquered were turned into slaves, but, unfortunately for them, all of their slaves had died. Nevertheless, Nerygia had urged her tribes on, plundering and conquering.
The black vixen sharped the blade of her ax matter-of-factly. Nearby, Weregang was urging Vulpes to use a battleax and not a dagger.
"Though a battleax may be bigger and have more of an edge, a dagger is quick and light, not heavy like that clumpy hatchet of yours," the vixen told her brother, emphasizing the last phrase by kicking aside one of the two axes on the sand.
Weregang snarled at his sister. "You are very insolent, little sis. I won't be surprised if you become Queen, but when you do I will be first on the list to kill you!"
Noon came down upon the three groups. The scorching rays of the sun beat down upon those on the beach. Those in the woods had shade, but the heat still penetrated the leafy vegetation.
"If we fight in this weather I'm going to die of the heat before I die fighting," Ralar complained.
"You won't die, Granpa," Verleaf insisted. "You can't. Then nobeast will take me home to Mum and Dad."
Ralar laughed merrily. "You're a brave young mouse, Verleaf, and I've taught you all of my navigational skills. I bet you could find your way back home blindfolded."
Pinidap, Filian, and some of the freed slaves laughed and played along with Ralar's statement, binding Verleaf in cloth and blindfolding him, seeing whether he could find the leftover damson pudding from earlier. When he had found it, Verleaf plunged into the large bowl nose-first and came up laughing.
"Hush, liddle uns," Lurrana scolded the babes. "Battle'll take place soon; I c'n feel it in me bones. Be quiet or ye'll be found."
"Well," Painttail said, "if'n battles bound t'come, ole gel, then wot're we waitin' for?"
Stormpaw drew her sword. "Nothin'. We're not gettin' any younger standin' 'ere, so let's go."
* * *
They assembled on the beach (they had been following the coastline), a few yards from where they had camped
Sarrico shielded his eyes with one paw as he watched the forest. His archers, hidden behind rocks, were waiting his signal. The rest of his horde, all carrying spears or pikes, waited in silence.
Queen Nerygia and her tribes, armed with battleaxes (the traditional Xerogia fox weapon) except for Vulpes, stood at the ready, forming a semi-circle around the royal family. Nerygia and Xeroedge, flanked by their two children, watched for any movement in the trees and shrubbery.
Then, suddenly, out of the forest came one otter. Holding her bone-handled sword out in front of her, she faced the two armies.
"G'day t'ye lot o' vermin," she growled. "I am Stormpaw Swiftwater, daughter o' Inbar Trueflight an' Grath Longfletch, sister o' Furwoth, Plankkit, an' Buckstream. I am the last o' Holt Rudderwake o' Ruddaring Isle. Now look round yeh, vermin, coz this'll be yore last chance t'see the light o' day. I will have my revenge! Holt Rudderwaaaaaaake!"
The whole woodland army emerged from the trees, wielding javelin, sling, bow and arrow, lance, or longblade, and the occasional sword or ax.
With a leap and a bound, Stormpaw was in the ranks of vermin, slashing madly and moving like a whirlwind, tearing, stabbing, blocking, and thrusting with her sword. Her friends joined in, wrecking havoc on both Sarrico's and Nerygia's armies, yelling the time-honored battle cries.
"Redwaaaaaaalll! Logalogalogaloooog! Mossflowerrrrr!"
Slashing and hacking at various rats, weasels, and ferrets, Nik made his way to Stormpaw. The two, battling back-to-back, twirled their deadly blades like twin windmills. Runn and his siblings were in a tight circle, letting stones fly and shielding the wounded Luna and the medicine hare Liana, who was bandaging up the otter's wounds. Painttail, his Long Patrol friends, his father, and his nephew fought like madbeasts, kicking with their powerful hind legs and whacking foxes with their lances. Log-a-Log and his shrews were in several groups, lashing out with their raipers. Iceblade was a deadly steel hurricane, ax and cutlass blades flashing, slaying all who ventured close.
"C'mon, yeh lily-livered scum, try an' beat ole Iceblade!" the scarred otter roared, laughing madly.
Ralar and the young ones were still in the forest, listening to the roars and agonizing wails of the ones on the beach. Verleaf and Kippit, the bravest of the bunch stood at the edge of the forest, whirling slingstones at some of Rugval's horde, laughing gleefully as each vermin dropped to their well-aimed stones. These two were born warriors, and nothing could change that.
A ferret saw the two young ones as they fitted more stones in their slings. He charged at them, spear held out straight. Verleaf and Kipp squeaked in fright and turned to dash back into the forest. The ferret was literally on them until something bolted from the vegetation and blocked the downward sweep of the spear, allowing the young ones an escape.
It was Ralar.
"Granpa!" Verleaf screamed, stopping suddenly.
"Verleaf, go!" Ralar ordered, his weak frame shaking under the weight the ferret was putting on his spear. The stave that the old mouse had used to block snapped under the pressure, and the ferret, grinning wickedly, shoved the spearpoint into the old gray mouse.
"Noooo! Granpaaaa!" Verleaf sobbed. Kippit took his friend and covered his eyes, pushing him away from the gruesome scene. Verleaf wailed pitifully when they returned to the others, shaking uncontrollably with his head in his paws.
Back on the beach, Iceblade was pinned down by a gang of Xerogia foxes. The big otter had been relieved of his weapons, despite his mad thrashing (in fact, he had slain four of the ten foxes that had set out to restrain him just by biting, kicking, and punching). Weregang raised his battleax high and was about to bring it crashing down when…
"Redwaaaaaall!"
Runn came out of the battling mob like a thunderbolt. He thwacked Weregang across the head with a stone, stunning the fox, then barreled into him head-first.
Iceblade kicked away the rest of the foxes, but not before one stabbed him in the side with a pike lying in the sand. Blood flowed from the wound, but Iceblade ignored it. He grabbed an ax from a fallen fox and swung it like a scythe.
"Thanks, matey, yeh saved me life," Iceblade told Runn as the two battled their way back to their friends.
"Well, we all gotta look after each other," Runn replied, knocking a rat unconscious with another stone.
Nik had fallen. Stormpaw and Painttail stood above him, sword and lance whacking and spearing, chopping and cleaving.
"Nik!" Stormpaw called out over the noise of the melee. "Wot's wrong with yeh, mate?"
"I…I can't…"
But before the squirrel could answer, he and his three friends were knocked aside by a large hornbeam limb. Xeroedge, the largest and strongest of the Xerogia foxes, wielded the limb like a club.
Niklur was catapulted into a tree. His wounded body clung to the tree, and, seeing that he and his friends might lose, he desperately called out with the last of his strength.
"Woodlanders! Don't give up!" he yelled hoarsely. "We can win if we believe in ourselves! REDWAAAAAAALLL!"
The battle cry and the squirrel's encouragement gave them new energy, it seemed. The woodlanders fought harder with every ounce of strength in them. Rats, weasels, ferrets, and foxes alike fell to the deadly weapons of the ferocious fighters.
"We can't keep all this up, Father," Painttail told Lieutenant Tammo.
"Oho, no, we can't like this, laddie buck, wot, but with reinforcements, we absoballylutely can, wot wot!" the war veteran replied.
"Huh?"
"Look!" Tammo pointed a paw at the top of a large sand dune while spearing a weasel with his lance.
At the crest of the hill, a large, muscular male badger stood, holding in his paws a stout stick, almost as long as the average stave. The stick, a strange shade of reddish-brown, may have looked useless, but to those wise enough to wield it, it was a formidable weapon. And, rallied behind the badger, were dozens upon dozens of hares, all carrying some sort of weapon, whether it be lance, pike, or raiper.
It was Lord Russano the Wise of Salamandastron and his perilous Long Patrol hares.
Painttail started fighting with renewed strength at the sight of his Lord. "Lookit! Ole Russ is 'ere! Yaagh! Take that, yeh bally vermin!"
The Badger Lord suddenly charged down the sand dune, the hares following suit. The war cry of badgers and hares rang out across the wide beach, sending a chill throughout both woodlander and vermin alike.
"Eeeeeuuuulaliaaaaa!"
Lord Russano flung his hardwood stick, striking the nearest fox squarely between the eyes. Then, from that point, it was truly a mad war. Fur and blood flew as everybeast fought like mad. The coming of Salamandastron's Long Patrol, headed by their Badger Lord, drained the fight out of the weasels, ferrets, and rats. They, little-by-little and quivering with terror, surrendered themselves to the woodlanders. Even the foxes, overwhelmed by the sudden onslaught, started surrendering. But that was not what drove them to near annahilation. It was a quick action only a seasoned warrior could have done to their leader, Queen Nerygia.
The black fox was slashing violently, driving her axblade into any foebeast. That's when Iceblade, with the pike still in his side, came up on her blind side and gave a mighty swing with his newly acquired ax. Nerygia fell and her head rolled clumsily away from her body.
Weregang and Xeroedge, wielding ax and hornbeam limb, came at Iceblade. The big otter jumped up and swung mightily again, and the two foxes' heads joined up with the Queen's as their bodies lay where they had stood a moment before.
The foxes were all in fright. There lay three of the royal family, all beheaded.
"Now, yeh scurvy lot, who's nex'?" Iceblade roared.
In haste, all the foxes dropped their weapons and seated themselves on the sand, their paws on the tops of their heads.
Iceblade snarled menacingly. "Good. Yeh lot 'ave caused more trouble'n me two babes."
Creekstar, Portred, and Lurrana supervised the remaining fox army, along with two or three of their fighters.
Most of the other army were on the sand, paws on heads, as well. Only a small group defended Sarrico as they tried getting him to the trees, to safety.
Stormpaw spotted this. She and a group of Long Patrol hares charged at the escapers, brandishing their weapons fiercely.
"Eeeuuulaliaaaa! Ruddawaaaaake!"
The small, tight battle raged on. Sarrico cursed, turned, and started for the trees on his own. But he didn't get far. A well-aimed slingstone hurtled towards him and struck him in the small of the back. Yelling in pain, the stoat turned and saw his most hated enemy (literally). The female otter gripped the handle of her sword, an equal amount of loathing on her face.
"C'mon, stoat!" Stormpaw challenged. "Let's see wot yer made of!"
