Chapter 7

It had been a season since Salamandastron had fallen. Fleetfoot, Al, Friska and Balinger were heading back west to the path that ran alongside Redwall. They found an old farm where, unknown to them, Ripcut and his troops were. They decided to camp in the hayloft of it.

When night fell, they sorely regretted their choice. Ripcut and his troops were in the lower story of the barn, and that had been their camp. Our four spent a sleepless night as all except for Friska were kept up by the rats singing, dancing, talking, and walking in their sleep.

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" Cap'n." The rat whispered. "We have news of where the two hares and the dog are."

"Where?"

"In the hayloft above us."

"Ohhh."

"Should we attack?"

"No. Let them spend a hard night. It should be with all the noise out there. Then, in the morning we'll wait for them."

The next morning when Fleetfoot and company stepped into open sunlight, burly rats scooped up Friska and Fleetfoot, Al, and Balinger found themselves at swordpoint.