Chapter Five
Kyra and her otters waited outside on the abbey grounds with Rhyna and her squirrels, as well as with quite a few abbeydwellers. All were armed with anything from quarterstaves to flails to bows and arrows. Kyra stood among them, her grandmothers bow strapped to her back, her eyes ablaze with the light of bloodlust and battle.
Of course, she was not in her bloodwrath state, simply in a state of impatience, of eager anticipation. Soon, the battle for her beloved abbey would begin, and Kyra would do all that she could to make sure that the Abbey did not fall to Fangarl and the other vermin.
Earlier that morning, the squirrel and otter sentries that Kyra and Rhyna had positioned on the walltops had reported that there was a great army of vermin in the ditch next to the road that ran in front of the Abbey. Kyra had been disgusted at the unoriginality of this maneuver on the part of the vermin.
The buffoons did what every single other army did- they stood in front of the Abbey waving their little daggers about and bullyragging the Abbey. Well, Kyra and Rhyna were both determined to show the vermin what their warriors could really do. Let the vermin try and attack.
After the army had been sighted in the distance, Kyra and Rhyna had summoned their warriors without hesitation. Everyone that could fight was summoned onto the grounds, waiting to see what the ferret commander would do once her horde was ready to make the first move of the battle for Redwall.
Rhyna stood a little distance away, passing out bows and arrows to her squirrel archers and making sure that her own weapons were in good condition. She patted the flexible blade at her belt, smiling slightly. That small sword had served her well many times. Hopefully, it would do so again.
It was at that moment that an arrow fletched with black feathers shot over the parapet, landing with a thud in the ground. Kyra stepped forwards, taking the arrow in her paw and pulling off a piece of paper that was tied to it. She snapped the arrow in half and threw it to the ground, unrolling the scroll and reading it aloud for all to hear.
The writing was cramped, but neat and clear, without any misspellings. Kyra was impressed. This didn't look as if a vermin soldier had written it at all. This worried her, too. They were not dealing with a rogue band of miscreants, then. Someone in the army below was educated, at least in some aspects.
"Fangarl the Cruel hereby decrees that
all the woodlanders in this place and
in the forest of Mossflower must now
surrender to her. Any creatures that
do not surrender will be killed on sight.
If you should choose to surrender to
Fangarl peacefully, you're homes, land,
and all of your possessions will be the
property of Fangarl."
The otter stopped reading it at that point, even though there were still many more words on the parchment. Kyra threw the parchment away, her face the picture of repugnance and disgust. This 'Fangarl' dared to threaten her and everyone else at the Abbey with proclamations of slavery and death?
Kyra fairly shook with contained fury as she held the parchment in one paw, having already ground the arrow to a pulp under one powerful paw. Not saying a word, Kyra took her left paw and ripped the parchment to shreds, throwing it upon the ground and stamping it into the earth along with the pieces of broken arrow.
"I can't speak for ye all, friends," Kyra said, "but I'm not about to let a bloody ferret go around sendin' us decrees of death an' destruction. She's obviously underestimated our strength, an' I'm all fer showin' her what we Abbeybeasts are made of! What say you t'that?"
Sky nodded and stepped forwards through the crowd. She had just arrived there from the Abbey Kitchens, where, while stealing a few scones, she had scrawled out a hasty plea for help and had given it to MacPhearsome to take to Salamandastron. The eagle had agreed willingly and had flown off to deliver it.
"Well, I think Skip 'ere has hit the bally nail on the head, doncha know! Can't really let this ferret walk all over us as if we were already her slaves, can we? I've been a slave, an' its no jolly walk in the woods, wot! Listen, we Redwall lot have shown vermin in th' past what we can do. Why, in ancient times, Matthias and the simple Redwallers defeated a fully trained rat horde without warriors like the ones we have now!"
Kyra nodded her agreement, her rudder tail thumping on the ground to emphasize her point. "Aye! How many times have we engaged in battle without more than staves and luck? We've got fully trained war bands, not to mention supplies an' weapons. Fangarl can't very well just kill us all, can she? She won't have any slaves from Redwall. I say we fight for what is rightfully our: our lives! Who's with me?"
There was a tremendous wordless uproar from the crowd. A few otters and hares went among those who did not already have weapons and passed them out, making sure everybeast had something to defend themselves with, whether they would be fighting in the battle or not.
The Otters and Squirrels, already possessing weapons, ran up onto the ramparts, while Abbeybeasts did all manner of Redwall chores, from guarding the dibbuns and old ones to gathering food from the orchard in case of a siege. Kyra and Rhyna's warriors, along witha chosen few Redwallers, stood on the wall tops, looking down into the ditch.
Kyra nodded to the otters that stood in ranks behind her, carrying slings, bows and arrows, and even occasional otter javelins. Standard equipment for a River Otter Warrior. Kyra smiled, putting an arrow to the string of her bow and pulling it back to the point. The bow required a great amount of strength to draw, but Kyra had gotten used to it.
She nodded at her otter army, and they too loaded stones and arrows into their various weapons. She nodded, and squinted one eye, peering into the ditch. Beads of sweat appeared on her brow, not caused by the bow and arrow, but caused by the anticipation and bloodlust that rose within her.
Nodding to her otters, they all nocked shafts to their own bows. "Ready?" Kyra yelled, making sure that all of her otters could hear her. They could. All of them nodded an affirmative, and Kyra pulled back her own string a bit farther.
"Pick out yore targets, mates." All of the otters did, leaning forwards to see into the ditch with more ease. Kyra smiled, picking out her own target amongst the vermin. "Fire!" All of the otters released the tension that had been building in their bowstrings, letting their arrows sail far and high, falling closer and closer to the vermin far below.
Rhyna, who had conducted a similar procedure with her squirrel archers and swordbeasts, watched as the arrows sailed overhead, almost all landing in the ditch. Her smile broadened considerably as she heard the numerous screams coming out of the ditch.
She sighed a satisfied sigh, pulling back her own arrow on her bowstring, making sure that it was drawn fully to the point. It flew straight and true, killing a vermin in the ditch. She reveled in the scream that was emitted as her arrow snuffed out another life. One by one, Fangarl's army would fall.
Meanwhile, down in the ditch, Fangarl licked pointed teeth as she pulled Vannin and Erecan closer to her. The two captains were nervous, but they had learnt over long seasons of service not to show any emotion around Fangarl. She might consider an emotional soldier a weak one. Erecan shot Vannin a sarcastic and insolent glance, but the ferret pretended not to notice a thing.
Both captains were forced to work together frequently, and so both had formed a strong hatred of each other, but they put on an air of friendship. It was a never-ending game between the two. Eve though they hated each other, neither one let it show.
Erecan looked at Fangarl straight in the eye, waiting for her to speak first. He was clever, cleverer than most vermin, and he was certainly clever enough to know not to insult Fangarl in any way. That would mean instant death for him, and Erecan didn't fancy visiting Hellgates just yet.
Weasels were not usually the brightest of vermin. They, like rats, usually did not lead hordes or hold high ranks. There were exceptions for both species, however. Feragho the Assassin, Cluny the Scourge, Gabool the Wild, and many more. Erecan was one of those exceptions, and an extremely good exception at that.
Most weasels were large, but Erecan was larger still, and his heart was almost as black as Fangarl's. Almost. The weasel wielded a beautiful saber, a sapphire embedded in its hilt. He had stolen it from a long dead enemy, of course. Erecan was not only strong and well armed, but he also had cunning almost unmatched in its greatness.
His cunning was usually turned towards ending Vannin's life, but he had not yet been successful. That ferret. . . he hated Vannin more than any other creature he had ever met. But, soon, Erecan would be the victor of their little games. He had to kill Vannin, not only because he hated the arrogant Ferret, but because if he didn't kill Vannin first, Vannin might kill him.
Vannin, though a bit smaller, was a rather superior ferret even for his clever and quick-witted breed. The huge weasel was taller than him, but the ferret was dangerous and cruel. Just as cruel, and just as good a fighter, even if his build was stockier. He and Erecan were both well muscled and were both quick witted.
If they hadn't been, Fangarl would not have chosen both of them as captains. Besides, she knew that both of them hated each other. It kept them on their toes, never allowing either to grow lazy. And if they were both busy plotting against each other, they wouldn't be so quick to plot against her.
The two had tried to kill each other on numerous occasions. Not only had they tried to kill each other, but they often put on battles of wits and all sorts of shows. Both were equally matched, however, and none was ever the victor, no matter how hard they sweated or plotted.
The ferretmaid looked both of her trusted captains in the eye, her voice soft and light, yet as dangerous as a cobra about to strike. "Well now, captains, what news have you? Have you found The Phantom for me yet? That stoat is invaluable to my plans, numbskulls, so if I hear that you've failed me, you're both done for. Understand?"
Erecan smiled coolly, stepping forwards and speaking in a silky and dangerous tone, almost as evil as Fangarl's. "Well, Mistress, we've got 'im for you. He's waiting jus' outside th' tent. He won't do nothin' without a reward. If you want my advice, get 'im t'do whatever you want, then make sure t'stick yore blade in 'is stomach 'fore you pay 'im."
Vannin nodded. "Aye. For once, I agree wid Erecan. I wouldn't pay the scumbag noffink! Me 'n Erecan'd get far less 'n we should if you enlist 'im in yore plans an' don't rid yerself o' the debt after 'e's done 'is duty. Want me t'call 'im for you, Mistress? That fiend is waitin' jus' outside. If I know Phantom, 'ell be listenin' to our conversation widout an ear or paw touchin' th' tent."
Fangarl nodded. "Aye. That'd be like him, right enough. Phantom! I know your outside listening to every word I say, so get in here so that we can see you. And no tricks now, stoat! I don't want to have to kill you. You're too important to my plans at the moment. And I will kill you if I can't see you, you know." There was a slight rustling of the tent flap as the almost invisible stoat entered.
Vannin blinked, trying to make sure he had seen the tent flap open at all. Erecan blinked too, his eyes scanning the tent, hoping to spot the stoat somewhere amidst Fangarl's things. Then, from besides Fangarl, a voice hissed.
The voice sounded somewhat like serpent's hiss, and was so quietly uttered that Fangarl could barely hear what was spoken. "Phantom herr, Miztriz. Phantom seez all. Phantom knowz all. You want Phantom t'go into Redstone house, yarr? Phantom not let Miztriz killum. Phantom go inna Redstone House anyway, yarr."
Fangarl nodded, and as she did so, Phantom came into full view. The stoat appeared as if out of thin air. His fur was gray, darker than the fur of most stoats. He blended perfectly with the shadows. Of course, you could always see him at Midday, but almost never at any other time, especially at night.
His fur was almost patchworked, a network of different gray shades, all shadow like in appearance. That was why he was called the phantom. When near the shadows, he was all but invisible. He smiled, showing green teeth in his widely open maw. "Aye, stoat," Fangarl replied. That's what I want you to do, Phantom."
The stoat backed away, aware that Fangarl's paw would be upon her dagger hilt in a second. "Phantom not afraid of you, ferret, yarr. Me go inside Redstone house, unlock front door. That's what ferretchief wants, yarr? Phantom knowz all. Seez all. Knowz you try to kill once job is done. Miztriz no kill Phantom easily. Fair deal, yarr?"
Fangarl nodded again, with Vannin and Erecan staring intently at the Phantom, determined not to lose sight of him again.
"But," he continued, "Phantom wantz 'is rewardsez, Miztriz. Phantom wantz booty from Redstone House! There be lotsa booty inside. Phantom knowz. Simplebeasts that live inside that place have valuablez. Phantom wantz 'is share, Miztriz. You give Phantom some, he go in an' unlock gate from inside. Phantom picks locks plenty good, yarr! Phantom knowz all."
Fangarl smiled, her own teeth milky white and perfectly clean. "Aye, Phantom. You read my mind like an open book, mate. Make yew a deal, stoat. You get us into this H'Abbey, I give you a third of the plunder inside. How does that sound, eh? A third of whatever we find. The soldiers'll be contented with a few trinkets."
Phantom nodded, "A third, Phantom getz! He go inside Redstone house at duskerz, yarr. Dey no see Phantom in shadow then! Me go now, an' give beasts slice wid me knife. Open door once inside. You attack eventide, an' let Phantom get inside, yarr?" Fangarl nodded once in acknowledgement, and the Phantom slunk back into the shadows.
The sun sped across the sky as if it were being pursued. Before anybeast could blink, it was night.
The Phantom crept off into the night, Vannin and Erecan leading threebeasts each behind them as they went their own ways. It was all according to the plan. Vannin headed to the North, with two rats and a second ferret following him. Erecan headed to the South wall of the Abbey, leading a weasel, a stoat, and a ferret behind him. Phantom had no party to escort him. He did his work alone.
Fangarl's plan had been simple, really. The three groups would sneak to their respective wallgates, pick the locks without being seen by the sentries, and shoot any that did spot them. Secrecy was the key. Once they were inside, Vannin, Erecan, and their followers would take care of any Redwall beasts while Phantom, invisible in the shadows, would open the main gate for Fangarl.
Above them, the star strewn sky was ebony black in color, touches of blue and green from the last rays of the sun merging and twisting with the shining beams of silver that the moon and stars sent onto the landscape. Despite the beauty of the sky, the repugnant scent of blood filled the air, winding it's way into the nostrils of all the creatures below.
They were at a stalemate. Earlier in the day, volleys of arrows and slings had been sent between wall and ditch, between ditch and wall, and each side had suffered minor losses. Still, their blood had been spilt, and it tainted the ground on which it fell. Thick, salty, red liquid burrowing deep into the pure brown soil and turning it sickeningly sticky.
Vannin stepped cautiously forwards, his paws feeling cold on the slightly damp earth. Through the greenery around him, his eyes stared at the brown wood of the small Northern wallgate door. The ferret reached the door; paw outstretched, and looked above him warily for any signs of sentries. There were a few Otters and Squirrels, but not many.
The ruthless captain took another step, pulling a piece of wire greased with oil and a dagger from his belt. He then set to work. . . A while later, after much jiggling of wires, banging softly on doors, and disappointed grunts, Vannin managed to get the job done.
The ferret motioned to his three vermin, and all four tip pawed through the slightly open door, with the last rat shutting the door closed softly behind him. Vannin's smile broadened as he saw the shadowy form of three creatures sneaking through the dark near the southern wall. Erecan was inside as well. Good. They were all in position now.
Upon the ramparts, high above, Kyra Longfletch stifled a yawn and shot another arrow, not able to stop her yawn for a smile as she heard a scream from one of the vermin below. The vermin had recently started a new attack on the gate, hoping to force their way through. Kyra sighed. Though the losses for both sides were great, Fangarl's numbers seemed to be unaffected, while their own numbers were waning.
Rhyna, who was strolling nearby on the ramparts, saw the Skipper and shot her a worried glance. "Kys? You alright?"
The ottermaid nodded sleepily. It had been a long time since she had been able to close her eyes, and her senses were beginning to grow groggier and groggier as the hours slowly ticked by. She had been exerting an enormous amount of energy in this war, never stopping her volleys of arrows. "I ain't got blood gushin' out of me, 'ave I?" she said, rather crankily.
The squirrelmaid smiled and dragged Kyra off, pushing her down the first of the battlement stairs. "You don't look fine t'me, Skipper." Kyra staggered a bit and blinked her eyes, trying to stop her head from throbbing. "You, m'lady, are goin' straight down to the dormitories an' have a nice lie in. You need it! Y'haven't stopped shootin' your green shafts all day."
Kyra sighed, waving and nodding at Rhyna as she left. The ottermaid then turned to go down the stairs to the battlements and start going towards the dormitories. Suddenly, her ears pricked up. Someone was nearby, all of her senses told her that someone was somewhere on the grounds, hidden in the shadows. Kyra's vision came clear, and she sighed with relief. It was Sky with fresh arrows for the archers.
Kyra waved, trying to attract her friend's attention, but her heart leapt up into her throat and her waves suddenly became more serious. The Skipper had seen four shadowy figures closing in on the unsuspecting Sky. She pulled on hidden reserves of strength, running towards Sky for a few steps, tripping because of weariness, picking herself up again, and trying to run again.
Sky, however, was a seasoned warrior. The haremaid drew her saber as fast as if it had been attached to her paw and swung it at the four vermin behind her. There was a scream, and a stoat fell onto the ground, writhing as blood spurted out from a deep, jagged wound on his neck.
Kyra was about to try and run towards Sky again, hoping to aid her friend, but that was when she saw the shadows of four more intruders behind her. There wasn't time to call out. In a few seconds, all three vermin were dead. Green fletched arrows were buried in their flesh. Kyra stepped on the carcasses of the three vermin that she had killed and took her arrows back, staring at the ferret that remained.
Vannin stared back. "Come an' face me, waterhound, or are ye afraid t'come close enough t'play?" the ferret sneered, his eyes boring into Kyra's. The ottermaid dropped her bow, gesturing at Vannin's belt, which held all sorts of blades, ropes, and other such equipment.
"Put that down, an' face me in a test of strength, vermin scum. Who knows what kind of tricks you've got hiding in that there belt," she continued. "An' let me warn you, I can catch daggers an' arrows as easily as if they was only butterflies blinded by th' noonday sun, ferret. Don't try anything."
The ferret sneered and slowly unhooked his belt. "You callin' me a coward, Riverdog? I'll show ye coward!" He let it drop with a slight clatter to the ground.
"Good, vermin scum," Kyra jeered, "You've managed to impress me a little." The ferret raised an eyebrow mockingly, meeting Kyra squarely, stepping forwards a few paces to stand evenly with her. "Now, show me what you c'n really do! An' I'll show you what I do to people who try an' 'arm my friends at Redwall!"
The ottermaid threw herself at her attacker, ramming her shoulder with as much force as she could muster into the soft fur of his stomach. The ferret had dug his claws firmly into the ground, so as not to be put off balance, but he had underestimated the strength of his only slightly larger opponent.
He toppled head over tail onto the ground, but recovered neatly, leaping to his feet almost as swiftly as he had fallen. Kyra's gaze was growing even blurrier than it had been before, and it was starting to be tinted with red. Vannin lashed out with a footpaw, taking the Skipper off guard and catching her in the stomach.
The ferret captain ran forwards, dodging to the left and neatly tripping his adversary. Vannin might have won then, if Kyra hadn't been a friend of Skythistle and Clairethye of the Long Patrol.The ottermaid, remembering an old Salamandastron hare fighting technique, lashed out with her powerful back legs, catching the ferret completely off guard and knocking him down onto his tail.
Vannin picked himself up, and. . . thwack! Kyra's heavy, rudder-like tail hit him full in the face! The ferret ran forwards, breathing heavily, trying to ignore the blood throbbing in his face and leaking from his nose. His body twisted, making as if to rush her from the front, but instead he darted to the side, circling Kyra completely.
Kyra was taken by surprise, not quite sure what was happening. The ferret, meanwhile, had ended up behind the Skipper and, with one fluid movement, pushed her from behind. It was then that he leapt on top of her, ready to crush her. That was a big mistake for Vannin.
The ottermaid turned around while still on the ground, writhing in the dirt as a serpent or worm would. She dodged to the left, her body still twisting, and moved a fraction of an inch to the left just in time. Vannin's jump completely missed Kyra, and the unfortunate ferret fell flat on the hard ground. He picked himself up, seeing stars and black patches in his vision.
The ottermaid fell down upon her adversary, and both ferret and otter struggled about on the ground, trying to push each other down into the blood stained earth. It was then that Kyra got her paws about the ferret's throat. She grabbed his neck, her paws as firmly set as steel. The ferret struggled, trying to pull out of her cold grasp!
As blackness conquered his vision, Vannin smiled. The otter's grip was loosening! Only a bit more and. . . Kyra slumped onto the ground, exhausted. She rested her head on Vannin's chest lazily, hardly able to move. She felt no heartbeat. Good. Then, sliding off of her dead enemy, Kyra slipped into unconsciousness.
A few minutes later, a dark form approached the place where Sky had been fighting her own party of vermin. Woodshire smiled, twitching his ears and pulling his daughter up onto his back and dragging her off into Mossflower.
The South gate was still unlocked. . . Once both hares were gone, Phantom slid forward, like a shadow that had crept out of a bad dream. The stoat headed towards the wallgate, with no other creature around to have even the slightest chance of detecting him.