Nobody seemed to have heard of Nadal ob Insame. Nobody remembered seeing any towers that breached the cloud layer, let alone two such towers together. In fact, none of the Redwallers seemed to have any knowledge whatsoever of the region that Nyc and Troyte described from aerial and terrestrial viewpoints. The resultant impasse was troubling on many levels.
Nyctllr was extremely discomfited by the fact that there was no understanding, no prior knowledge, not even an inkling of her plight—and of course others' plight as well. They couldn't imagine an airborne villain, taking some lives for the purpose of killing more out of the blue.
The Redwallers, of course, were alarmed that something so apparently out of the picture could do so much harm.
Mattachin irritably nicked at his claws with Martin's sword. I could have sworn that that rat who we went after when my father was the warrior was the mastermind...wossisname...Kaliban...
Nyc literally lifted off toward Mattachin as her hypersensitive hearing picked up this remark. Kaliban's in on it. He's terrified of ob Insame, but he's in. He does what he's told. He might have been working for Nadal all along.
The warrior mouse's grip on the sword of Redwall tightened; the tip of the blade pointed directly west. We're going now.
As much as Nyc was anxious to rid the world of the problem that was Nadal ob Insame, she couldn't help but be cautionary. As you don't know the area, don't you think working out directions and strategy first might be a good idea?
You're giving the directions, Mattachin stated firmly. And we can make up a battle plan on the march.
You're not going to come upon a fortress that's easily attacked, Nyc explained. And they fly off the tops of those towers. They could hit again while we're gone.
Mattachin's eyes quickly skimmed across the faces of those he, as Warrior, had sworn to protect. They wouldn't dare try to do that to us again.
I know Nadal. You don't. Don't take anything for granted. Nyc rustled her wings.
Fine, fine. Mattachin did some quick calculations on his fingers. Just to be safe. Because, his voice rose and he lifted the sword, drawing the attention of the entire assembly once more, We're going to war!
The reaction was mixed. A few sundry cheers punctuated a general body of excited murmuring. The normally softspoken voice of Sister Oxalis made a clear point over the aural mess. But Redwall Abbey is a place of peace. We can't go be an aggressor after such a history.
If anybeast had at that moment attempted to prevent Mattachin from making a speech, that creature would have failed. The warrior mouse stood on his chair, waving the sword for emphasis. Redwall is only peaceful until that peace is disrupted, and that definitely happened! If we let it go, we'd let the vermin win! And that would be allowing the access of evil to all Redwall has ever been! Wouldn't you feel bad if we let that happen, wouldn't you feel terrible?! You don't have to feel bad, though, because we're going to eliminate the threat! Knocking down one wall won't kill us all, but our vengeance is more than justified for it. Redwall is good, Redwall is proud, and nobeast messes with Redwall and gets away with it! We're going to war! We're going to win! What say you?!
A loud speaking voice with an apparent cause has the ability to rouse a crowd, regardless of how closely the individuals within that crowd might have actually been listening. But the Abbeybeasts were listening. And they knew their response:
