Chapter 2
Far to the north, at Redwall Abbey, chaos reigned as a group of Dibbuns was hauled from the pond by Skipper, the otter leader. He shook his head, disgusted as a small hedgehog babe tried to roll into the pond again. He grabbed the little creature and shooed her off, along with the rest of the abbeybabes, who were led off reluctantly, sobbing at the lecture they were guaranteed to receive from badger mother Len.
Skipper sauntered over to the gatehouse, where he hoped to find Sillian, the young mousemaid gatekeeper. He was quite fond of her and they were great friends, always sharing lunch and meals, reading and drinks. As he neared the gatehouse, he heard a rap on the main gate. It sounded like a spearbutt knocking against the woodwork. Skipper slid back the peephole and saw a middle aged, sturdy squirrel.
"Hey there, Sarthin. How's the travelin' goin'?" he asked out to the serious looking squirrel.
The sturdy young squirrel rapped the woodwork impatiently. He glared at the big otter and snapped, "I got urgent business for the Abott, not a nosy riverdog like yoreself!"
Skipper shoved the gate open, cuffing the squirrel's ears roughly. "Watch yore tongue with the Abbot, mate. He doesn't need any more problems than he has."
Sarthin slunk up to the Abbot and set down his hilted spear. He looked at the Abbot and sighed, his head drooping.
"Abbot Kein, I have bad news. Yore brother's dead. I found him in the ditch across the path a couple leagues south," the squirrel told the Father Abbot, his voice heavy with sadness.
"Is it the work of that foul Zeran? That evil, babe killing, slave taking, addlebrained excuse for a Halfbreed!" Kein, usually a soft spoken hamster, once the Abbey Warrior, cursed under his breath.
"Abbot Kein, are ye alright?" Sarthin asked him, worried for his friend.
"No, Sarthin. You bring me news of my brother, Keirn, dead at the hands of Zeran the Halfbreed. I am not fine." Kein excuse himself from the table and slunk upstairs.
Sarthin sighed, wandering off to the kitchens, where Friar Herth was cooking up lunch. The fat, jolly old hedgehog looked at the young squirrel's face and handed him a raspberry scone with redcurrant preserve, his favorite. The squirrel nibbled distractedly and sighed.
"Is he dead?" Herth asked the Warrior squirrel.
"Yes." Sarthin slunk off without another word.
Down the path, glaring down at the dead body of Keirn the white hamster, brother of Abbot Kein, Zeran and his vermin crew of Halfbreeds sniggered.
Zeran was a Halfbreed between a pine marten and a fox. Most of his crew were half rat, half ferret. It was an odd combination, coupled by the unique weapon each Halfbreed wore. The Halfbreed Chieftain himself wore a cloak, made of two eagle wings. He had killed the eagle. It was clasped at the front with a hamster skull. He had killed the hamster. His tunic was made of rough sharkskin chain mail, with a cotton undershirt beneath it. He had killed the shark. He kept his clothes in very clean affair, as did his crew. He had an eyepatch over one eye, and his other eye was almost sightless, though his hearing and sense of smell made him more formidable than anyone in all of Mossflower. His weapon was a handheld sickle, studded with emeralds and rubies, with a pearl blade, attached to a chain. It made a wicked flail, which he was an expert with.
"Yes, Slinky?" he said as a ferret/stoat mix crept up behind him with a short handled scythe.
"Chief, the Whom are setting up more camps in Mossflower, siding with the Guosim," Slinky said as his Chief twirled his sickle ended flail decisively.
"So, we have the Warrior Hamsters of Mossflower siding with the Guerrilla Union of Shrews in Mossflower. Now I'm upset."
Slinky slunk off, almost unheard by any of the Halfbreeds. Except for Zeran. He heard all. As he listened to his crew, another beast, a huge half rat, half weasel came up to him, with a longbow gripped easily in one claw. The bow had scimitar blades attached to each side of his bow at the top, while at the bottom was a mace. His arrows had thistles attached to them, dipped in molten steel to make them hard as Martin's sword.
"Chief, et be me, Shoth. Me gots news of yon badger tribe in de east, might'ness." The huge creature had a somewhat tainted speech, but was one of Zerag's best warriors.
"The badgers bother me not. They can go about their business. Unless they attack, then we kill!" The huge beast whirled his sickle flail around until the air hummed, then he sunk it into the ground between Shoth's footpaws.
He smiled at the beast and sent him away. As the Wererat crept off, another beast walked up. Zerag's closest friend and best fighter, it was an awkward mix of mole and wolverine. He had donned a loose steel helmet, a polished breastplate, and spiked leg plates.
"Oi been a thinken et be toim to take tha H'abbey, zurr," the awkward beast, named Slort shuffled in his ungainly armor, surprisingly agile for the heavy stuff.
Zerag nodded. He would march on Redwall Abbey. It would be his! He would slay all in his path. No one could withstand the might of his Halfbreeds, most of whom were as big as an otter at least.
They took the path north to Redwall Abbey and what they hoped would be a simple victory.
Unlike the last couple times Redwall had been at siege, the Abbey dwellers were well prepared this time. Spears, pikes, swords, bows, arrows, and sling were passed out. The slingstones at the Abbey were studded with poisonous spores from fungus around Mossflower and were hurled with deadly accuracy by otters and a few hedgehogs. For the most part, the Redwall Army chose to use long pikes or spears over the shorter of the weapons, swords, javelins, daggers, and even a couple short cutlasses.
The only beast who wielded a different weapon was a sturdy looking iguana. He had come to Redwall at his second season. He had a huge bastard sword which he could wield with one claw, and his back spines made him even more formidable, along with his long sweeping tail. Since no one had ever gotten him to tell them his name, or much else, they mostly referred to him as Ziggy Longswipe. He was fine with the name and was happy with his life, eating after dark from the pond so as not to upset the peaceful Abbey beasts with his voracious, flesh craving appetite.
"Hoi, Zig! Get up here, matey, we got vermin on the pathway!" Skipper's voice hailed him from the ramparts.
"Ssseemss a bit early fur varmintssss, eh Sssskip?" Ziggy made his way up to the ramparts and sighed at the sight of about fourscore vermin, each a Halfbreed, well fed and pretty well clean, with bright glittering weapons. No two Halfbreeds had the same weapon, even the archers had different arrows. There were no slingers. These beasts were killers, not slavers. They had once killed almost all the Dibbuns in a raid on night when the otters were away. Since then, Zerag had been convinced that he could handle the Abbey. Until Ziggy Longswipe showed up. He slew half of the Halfbreeds before they escaped, his mad strength and Bloodwrath assisting him in ridding Redwall of the Halfbreeds. Now they were back, led by Blynd Eye's son, Zerag Eye.
"Ahoy, there Redwall! Remember me? I'm Zerag Eye, Killer of Your Babbies!" The Pinefox, for that was what he was called, cackled ruthlessly.
His laugh died to a choked gurgle as Ziggy appeared on the battlements, hissing at the vermin on the path, the sun glittering off his scars from their recent encounter, "What do ye be a wantingsss Halfssssscum?"
"Yore still here, scalescum? Thought we slew you, Zigzag." The Halfbreeds behind him guffawed.
"It'ssss Ziggy Longssssssswipe, ssssscum, and don't ye forget it. I'll kill ye if'n ye sssstepsss inssside here." Ziggy ducked as the Redwallers loosed their poisoned slingstones and arrows at the Halfbreeds.
Zeran Eye signaled to his crew to put on their masks. They were specially made to block the dreaded spores, and their sharkskin chain mail was more than enough to keep the arrows out. Shaking arrows from his armor, the Pinefox guffawed. It was war.
His army retreated to the ditch, where they could plan.
"Ziggy Longswipe. He left the battle with so many wounds, I thought he was a moving blood sack," Zerag muttered to Shoth.
The Wererat was gathered with his kind, half weasel, half rats, and was polishing his weapon lovingly, paying attention to the blades of his battle bow. He snorted as he noted, "De lithard nodd be too much broblem fer 'ee, Chief."
"Glad ye see things my way, my logically impaired friend. Go to your friends, they're waiting for ye." He motioned to the Wererats, who all had bows with different blades attached to them and different arrow styles.
The Wererats, Ferats, Rastoats, and other Halfbreeds were busily munching on anything they could find, beside the food issued by Zerag. He always saw that his crew was well fed. He knew that kindness, not fear, kept the Halfbreeds in order. They feared nothing.
The least common of the halfbreeds, besides Zerag himself and Slort, were the Werefoxes. Fox and weasel mixes. At first being called Weafoxes, they changed it to the more menacing Werefox. There was only one beast in the whole army who wasn't a Halfbreed.
It was a wolf. Not a fox, or a foxwolf, a wolf from the far northlands. He wielded a whip made of badger teeth and sharkskin attached to a short length of chain. It had a switch on it which enabled him to straighten it, making it a rough mace. His name was Kojin Northblade, and his only mate in the Halfbreed army besides Zerag and Slort, was a short fox/rat mix. It was beyond being the oddest beast in the army, no one being able to determine if it was female or male. They called the beast Rax. And it liked the ring. Rax never spoke and wielded a bone spear.
Rax, Kojin, Zerag, and Slort were plotting their attack on Redwall Abbey, despite the fearsome iguana, Ziggy Longswipe of the Marsh.
Ziggy Longswipe was in a dilemma. He knew about the wolf Kojin, and was worried. He swished his massive tail back and forth, sitting with his reptilian friend, a Monitor from the distant isle of Sampetra, named Gizzy. The beast was almost as big as Kojin and was the Abbey's last resort. Gizzy was a residential Mercenary, who would fight for the Abbey on a moment's notice, but would later request an unmentionable payment. His usual fine? Fresh meat. Fresh mouse meat. Ziggy didn't like enlisting the fearsome, mouse eating lizard, but in cases like this, he had to.
Sarthin sat between the two, his short, hilted spear right next to him, ready to lash out at Gizzy. The mouse across the table, who sat between two hamster warriors, looked at Gizzy and smiled disarmingly at the huge reptile.
"Wot iz it now, Merz?" Gizzy sighed and hissed at the Abbey Warrior Mers.
"I was just wondering if you would kill a wolf for the Abbey."
Gizzy rolled his eyes in pleasure. "Wolf meat iz good. I will kill thiz wolf for no charge, Abbey. He iz mine!"
The battle plan was set. On dawn of the next day, the two armies would strike.