Chapter 8

More Questions than Answers

Leon was, in a word, terrified. New experiences were great fun, but Leon thought that perhaps he could do without this particular experience. All the shouting, the constant noise, the sharp smells in the air, it all did little to ease an already confused mind. Leon had heard the shrews talking about something called a 'battle' but Leon had had no idea just what that was supposed to be. Now he was afraid he knew. Battle was when a bunch of creatures starting hurting each other and making scary noises for no apparent good reason.

In hindsight Leon thought that perhaps sneaking away from the shrew camp to go see what a battle was like hadn't been such a grand idea after all. He was just glad he'd left Calli and Gil behind this time. They wouldn't want to see all these supposed 'grown-ups' acting all foolish and hurting each other. He'd been about to rush back into the safety of the bushes before somebeast saw him when he spotted the gallows. Of course Leon didn't know that's what they were or why a bunch of creatures were strung up there with ropes around their necks, but after thinking about what would happen if the stools they creatures stood on was kicked out from under them Leon got the idea rather quickly. No stool meant that only the rope around the neck would be holding those beasts up, and Leon thought that would be…dreadfully uncomfortable.

Seeing as how the shrews were trying so hard to get to those gallows Leon thought he could help. Dodging and weaving through the stamping footpaws and rolling and falling bodies wasn't as hard as it looked. Keeping away from all his fellow dibbuns in a good game of "Leo' Tag" was much harder than ducking about this battle. So getting to the gallows had been easy and it hadn't been much more difficult to nimbly clamber up the side and reach the flat wood platform.

Now that he was there though Leon couldn't fathom what he planned to do. Looking up he noticed those poor creatures were hung up rather high on that now very large looking wood beam. Maybe he could climb up those smaller beams supporting the larger one? There weren't any paw holds but that didn't matter, Leon's claws were sharp enough to dig into the wood.

As he rushed the beam closest to him and leapt onto it with a running start he thought he heard a familiar voice calling his name. Leon paused a second, clinging to the beam, listening, but all he could hear was the roar of the fighting. He did see that now there were other abbeybeast fighting with the shrews…and he thought for a second he saw the nice Sword Squirrel who was his mother's good friend, but soon all Leon could see was just an indistinct mass of moving bodies and the glint of steel in the growing morning sunlight.

Leon concentrated on his climb, his claws not sinking into the wood as much as he would have liked. After some scrabbling and clawing the ratbabe began to make slow progress up the beam. Apparently one of the creatures tied with ropes spotted him because he heard somebeast shout, though he couldn't bother to look to see who.

"Hey! Whats a' babe doin' here! You seein' this here tike Braim?"

"Goodness! 'Es climbin' up! How'd a littl' one like that get 'ere?"

"Who cares! It's too dangerous for a dibbun like that ta be crawlin' round a war."

"An' I suppose you plan on just untyin' yerself so ye can take him back to th' abbey"

Leon wasn't paying much attention to the voices, concentrating on his climb. Soon enough he reached the top and stood up on the large horizontal beam, balancing himself with his arms spread out like a tight-rope walker. Looking ahead at the beam in front of him he saw the ropes tied around the beam leading to the nooses around the necks of all the creatures.

Carefully he walked forward a few steps to the first rope and leaned over it. After a few seconds of looking the imposing thick strand of rope Leon shrugged to himself and started gnawing on it. Some of the creature's below him were still gasping in terror at seeing a babe in such a dangerous situation while others, seeing their best shot at escape, were cheering the ratbabe on.

"Yes! Yes! Go, chew that rope like there ain't no tomorrow!"

"Oh my, I think I'm going to faint…what if an arrow hits him?"

"HA! Look he got Braim's rope! Hey Braim help me out over here will ya?"

Indeed Leon had managed to get one of the ropes chewed all the way through and the mouse he'd freed was now helping other creatures out of their bonds. Meanwhile Leon just moved right on to the next rope and started chewing. This was actually kind of fun.

Just as he was almost done with the second rope Leon heard a buzzing sound, like a huge angry bee. An incredible pain burst to life on his back, like somebeast had poured hot scaling water onto him, and he cried out. He felt himself fall off the beam and there was a brief rushing of wind. Leon had a second to think about how odd it was that a bee would just decide to sting him for no particular reason…then there was a crash like a mountain falling on top of him and everything went dark.

Diane watched the battle unfolding from the relative safety of her perch up in one of the many trees of Mossflower Wood. From the look of things the entire plan of Darr's was going downhill quick. Somehow the hostages were freeing themselves, though Diane hadn't seen how the mouse now helping his fellow hostages loose had gotten his own ropes cut. On top of that the shrews now had the help of some of the abbeydwellers and were gaining the upper paw on the vermin.

Weeks with little food and constant travel had weakened and disheartened an already pretty pathetic band by Diane's reckoning, and as she watched the main grouping of fighting vermin were overrun when the shrews organized themselves in a slowly turning wheel formation that was supported by slings and arrows from the abbeydwellers who had joined with them. On top of that Diane had caught a glimpse or two of…of him. The male squirrel with the sword that shone like dark moonlight. By her count he was responsible for a respectable portion of the dead and wounded vermin on the field.

Diane had expected something like all this to happen, but seeing it in front of her made her feel a prick of guilt for not trying harder to convince Darr of how foolish this whole scheme had been. The last she had seen of the ferret warlord had been up on the walls of the abbey, making a suicidal charge against an enraged badger. Those two had met in a maelstrom of steel, blood, and fur and that was the last Diane had caught of the affair from her spying position.

From the look of things now whatever vermin were left up there on the wall were busy going about the business of surrendering to remaining woodlanders in the abbey after receiving a not-so-healthy dose of arrows, javelins, and sling stones.

It probably would not be long before even more armed woodlanders would come pouring through those abbey gates to help their fellows and then that would be the end of the horde of Darr Notch. Either the woodlanders would make those who surrender prisoner or just execute them, though Diane did not know or really care much about which.

"Might it bein' a' good time ta' be gettin' outta here," she said to herself, slowly and without much conviction.

She felt hollow now more than ever. First her real family had died at the paws of slavery under these vermin. Then, over time, she'd learned to at least accept the vermin as a replacement for what she'd lost. A crude, brash, and often cruel replacement…but a replacement still, and now that it looked like she was about to lose that family as well Diane felt a consuming feeling of emptiness inside her. The female squirrel of obsidian fur carefully scaled down from the tree branch to tree branch until she reached the ground.

The sounds of fighting were dying down, the screams and clashing of metal becoming more infrequent. She didn't have to look to know that the woodlanders, finally gaining confidence in seeing the hostages freeing themselves and gaining reinforcements from the abbey, were surrounding the few remaining vermin and corralling them into a tightly packed group. Like a noose surrounding a very thin neck. With no escape the vermin could either fight to the death or surrender. Diane knew without a doubt which way that decision was going to go even without hearing the clatter of blades, spears, and axes hitting the dirt.

Without looking back Diane began to run into the woods, not knowing what she intended to do now. In mid-step she paused, blinking.

"Eise?"

Diane blinked. Up ahead and to Diane's left a ways, crashing through the brush in a panic, was the stocky female ferret Eise. In her obvious flight the ferret didn't even glance in the way of, let alone see, Diane watching her run from the battle. Diane was just about to laugh at how it figured the most annoying of the horde would manage to get away when she noticed something else. Following Eise, with great stealth, flitting like a silk leaf on a soft wind from tree to tree as he was, was none other than the stoat of many names himself. Hal.

"Wha' the…?" Diane, after watching Hal trail Eise deeper into the woods, climbed up a nearby tree to follow, interested in just what this turn of events might lead to. Her steps were as light as ever as she hopped from branch to branch, keeping the retreating form of ferret just inside sight. Soon enough the thick branches came to a halt as the forest opened up into a small clearing. For a moment Diane could see nothing and thought that she must have lost Eise, but then she heard voices directly below her.

"And what vision doth mine eyes grant me? A fleeing ferret? Our dear slave master Eise?"

"Blast it ye daft beast ye nearly scarred me to death! Come on, we gots to run before them woodies start lookin' for us!"

As Diane watched from her hiding place she saw that Eise was talking with none other than Hal, the stoat looking none the worse for wear considering the battle that had just taken place. In fact he had not a speck of dirt or blood to mat his silky fur and he was grinning in a way that Diane couldn't help but find…disturbing.

Eise apparently noticed something strange about Hal's manner as well, because she took a hesitant step back, putting her back against the tree Diane herself was perched in. It was only when Hal took a very slow and confident step forward; keeping the distance between himself and Eise equal, that Diane noticed the stoat had a long and wickedly curved knife in his right paw.

"I had been hoping that the good creatures of the abbey would have finished off the entirety of you…" His voice was different, the accent gone, replaced by smooth and measured words, "However it seems as if they are quite the sentimental lot. In all likelihood they will free the Unclean that they do not kill in battle."

Diane raised an eyebrow. Unclean? What was Hal jabbering about? Eise for her part had also noticed the knife, and had taken equal note of the dangerous light in Hal's brown eyes, the thin smile spreading on his face one of singularly sinister intent. Eise was still trying to back up even though a very solid tree trunk was in her way.

"Yer crazy," was all she said.

Hal threw back his head and laughed, the sound cold and chilling. "Crazy? To be called such by an Unclean. Quite amusing. Even if I was insane it is still better than what you are, dear Eise. Now, to get to the point of this matter," he started to raise the knife. Eise bolted, predictably, and Hal's speed caught even Diane off guard. She had never seen a creature move so fast! One arm snaked out elegantly and seemed to just flip Eise end over end without any effort, sending the ferret crashing heavily to the ground. In almost the same movement Hal had wrapped his left leg around the arm he still held and twisted it along with his body, forcing the army into an unnatural angle that had Eise crying out in pain. Hal still had the dagger poised, ready to strike at the now helpless ferret.

Diane didn't know why she did it. She certainly owed Eise nothing. Maybe it was just that she didn't want to watch this scene unfold, or that she just felt like knocking Hal down a peg or two. Whatever the reasons, Diane found herself launching from the tree and landing directly on top of Hal, the pair of them going down in a tangle of limbs. Despite the fact that she had taken the stoat off guard Diane learned quickly that she'd sorely underestimated her foe. Trying to keep him pinned to the ground was like attempting to wrestle with oil, he slide and twisted with fluid grace and in moments was free from the tangle and getting to his footpaws while Diane was still trying to recover from the initial impact of her flying tackle. Eise was lying on the floor a few feet away, clutching her twisted and obviously broken arm and madly trying to scramble away.

"My, my, that was rather rash of you Diane," Hal said, watching Eise's attempted flight casually, as if he had all the time in the world to do as he pleased, as he put the point of his knife close to Diane's face. She froze solid, wondering if she'd dare try drawing her own weapons. She was fast she knew, but she was also smart enough to know that she was outclassed here. Hal, whoever or whatever he was, possessed a level of skill that was…uncanny. It didn't make any sense, if he was this damn good why'd he let Darr boss him around all these years? He could have won leadership of the horde long ago…

Eise was finally able to stand up and turned and ran for the edge of the trees, not even hesitating to leave Diane to her own fate. It was a futile effort. Hal, giving one scoffing laugh, took the point of the knife away from Diane, flipped the knife so that he was holding onto the tip of the blade, and with a relaxed flick of his wrist sent the weapon flying. It dug itself all the way up to the hilt into the back of Eise's throat. The female ferret went down with barely a gurgle to signal her last breath.

Hal, still watching Diane, went over to retrieve his weapon, which gave Diane time to get up and face him as she drew her own daggers. Hal regarded her coolly as he took out a handkerchief from the breast pocket of his tunic and wiped the blood from his knife.

"I would not advise attacking me again," he said matter-of-factly "While I feel it my personal responsibility to kill Unclean when the opportunity presents itself, I do not kill indiscriminately. As much as you have tried to live like one, you are no Unclean, Diane."

"What'ya talkin' bout?" snarled Diane "Wha' all this 'Unclena' crap suppos' ta mean?"

Hal tapped a slim finger to his chin, considering. Diane watched as he mulled over options in his mind, and wondered if any of those options including deciding to kill her after all. As confident as she was in her abilities she didn't much like her chances if it came down to a fight. He'd hit Eise dead on without even really looking.

"Well…quite the question, quite the question indeed. A full answer would take up far more time than we have here. There are things happening here that go far beyond a mere small horde's raid upon a remote woodlander settlement. Forces are at work in the world that will bring untold change to all who live upon it, and unlikely as it may sound that little sandstone abbey is at the center of it all."

Diane couldn't keep the confusion off her face. Hal sighed and slid the knife away. Instead of attacking him while his guard was down, like Diane felt like doing, she instead watched, fascinated, as Hal began to…reveal himself. First he reached up to his face and pulled away part of his face…which Diane saw now was a very well crafted mask of sorts made of what had to be cured hide and fur. His real face was much shorted and blunt than the one of the stoat. He made some adjustments to his clothing, ripping a hole down the back of his tunic. Out came a long plank-shaped tail, previously hidden up close to his body by what appeared to be strands of thin but strong rope.

"Yer…an…"

"Otter," Hal finished for her.

"But...why?"

He laughed, and it was not the cold one of moments before but warm and natural. For some reason that scared Diane even more than the previous laugh had. How easily he seemed to switch moods.

"Haha, dear, dear Diane, you do ask the most broad of questions. Very well, since we have little time before the woodlanders from the abbey discover us here I shall make my introduction brief," he bowed elegantly "My true name is Vincia Grayson, Agent of the Imperium, and humble vassal to the Lord Emperor, shall his name forever shine in the Light. If you'd prefer something less grandiose to call me then Vin will suffice."

Diane's only response to this was a very emphatic and heartfelt, "Huh?"

"Indeed," he said with an amused smile, "To put it in simpler terms I am a servant and warrior who humbly performs the will of a large and powerful group of woodlanders who live far to the east."

"Ah see…an' jus' wha' is a' Agent o' Whatsits doin' playin' lackey in a horde o' vermin?"

"That is something of a somewhat sensitive nature I'm afraid. For the moment all I can tell you is that for the past four years I have been following the trail of a prophecy…one that was foretold by the Seer of the Emperor himself."

Diane had to admit she was beginning to feel a headache coming on. Emperors, Imperiums, prophecies…it was all a lot to take in, especially considering she still wasn't sure if this Hal, Vin, whoever he was, was planning on killing her anytime soon like he'd just killed Eise. And what did the abbey have to do with any of this? She was broken from her thoughts as she heard shouting not too far away.

"Hm, it seems the woodlanders are almost here. Probably checking for survivors. I suppose you and I shall have to play the part of innocent locals caught up in the fighting."

That's when Diane suddenly remembered the previous night. "Ah, ah can't be seen 'ere! Tha' blasted squirrel! 'E knows ah' was workin' fer Darr."

"Hmm…I see, unfortunate. Very well, I have a plan."

"Plan?" Diane didn't like the sound of this.

"It's actually quite simple, just turn around."

"An' if ah don't?"

He merely patted the knife he'd sheathed. Diane's eyes narrowed, but with a reluctant sigh she turned around. Soon enough she felt strong paws grasp her arms and haul them behind her back, then rope started wrapping around them.

"Wha'dya doin!"

"Just tying you up. You are my 'prisoner' after all."

"What!"

"Relax, it is merely a ploy. You'll see what I mean soon enough…just trust me."

Diane glanced back at her now very tightly bound paws, "Like ah' got a' choice."

Dannflorr let the warmth from the falling sun calm his nerves and relax his tense, aching body. Inside he felt numb. A lot had happened today. Standing up on the ramparts of Redwall Abbey, watching the sun crest under the tops of Mossflower Wood's treeline, he tried to sort it all out in his head and heart.

The battle had not been as bad as it could have been. There would be some empty seats at the tables from now on, for no battle was without its losses, but…it could have been worse. Somehow, repeating that line in his head made Dann feel no better. Looking down he saw the space where the fighting had been most fierce towards the end, when the valiant Redwallers had joined with the Guosim and caught the vermin in a vise. Yes, many more vermin had fallen than woodlanders. The vermin that had surrendered had been stripped of their weapons and summarily turned loose, warned never to return, under pain of death. Of the vermin who had not fought, the females and young at the ragged camp in the forest, there was nothing to do but give them the same ultimatum. That had always been the way of it, hadn't it? Hadn't this very same battle been fought a dozen times over during the course of Redwall's history? Why did the same events always…repeat themselves? Again and again, causing more to die?

He shook his head, a gust of wind playing over his face. It wasn't really the battle and the odd ceremony of it that had him really in turmoil. First was the obvious concern for Song's little Leon. The ratbabe, the ridiculously brave ratbabe, had done something truly foolish this time. His efforts had saved the lives of the hostages to be sure, but who knew what price he was going to pay for it? He had still not awoken from the fall he had taken after a stray arrow had grazed his small body.

Dann glanced back into the Abbey courtyard, saw that a light was on in the main building where the infirmary was. Yes, Song would be there, watching over Leon with Sister Alora and Terra. Dann wanted to be there too. He wanted to hold Song and tell her it would be alright, that Leon would wake up soon and she wouldn't have to cry. He did not though. He stayed where he was, trying to sort himself out.

For another problem had arrived to make the calm of the ending battle quite a bit less calm.

The Guosim had scoured the surrounding woods for vermin stragglers; and had encountered a familiar face, and a new one. The familiar face was that of the black squirrel who had been the start of this whole mess. Brining her in was an otter named Vin, who claimed to have been traveling by and trying to skirt by the battle when the squirrel had run into him. His story was vague, making some allusions to a struggle between the two of them, which he won, and upon doing so tied her up. Then the Guosim arrived and brought both of them back to the Abbey. Dann had been dumbstruck upon seeing the female squirrel, bound and looking as fiery and wild as the night he'd first seen her stalking inside the Abbey. For just a second her eyes had turned to him, and he watched bursting rage flow away into sudden panic. Furiously she fought then against the shrew's that held her arms, though bound they were behind her back. It finally came to a point that the strange otter fellow had administered some strange neck hold on her that knocked her out clean; the otter named Vin apologizing profusely for the trouble.

Dippler, understandably, had been less than happy to see this squirrel, the one who had so viciously injured his wife. The Log-a-Log had been immediately for slaying the prisoner, and though Dann only vaguely remembered the exact swear words Dippler used in his argument for killing the black squirrel he was pretty sure that none of those words he'd learned at Redwall Abbey. Dippler had been too tired from his own efforts in the fighting to give the matter much argument though, which was good because Dann hadn't wanted for any more violence to occur after the battle was already over.

It was bad enough that Song had nearly become frantic upon finding what happened to Leon, and the Abbess of Redwall Abbey was obviously not going to be able to act in any official capacity for awhile. That left Dann, his father, and Rusvul to handle the details of cleaning up the loose odds and ends of the day's events. The black squirrel was going to be at first released with the other vermin who survived the fight, but on a sudden impulse Dann had suggested she be kept at the abbey for the time being until she could be questioned. He hadn't been able to come up with a reason for why she'd need to be questioned; but the otter Vin had been quick to second the idea with great enthusiasm, even going as far as to spin a tale that as a squirrel she was obviously somehow under some restrain or duress to have been serving vermin and it was the abbey dwellers responsibility as fellow woodlanders to see to her recovery.

No beast besides Dippler and a few of his shrews had had any complaint about that; oddly even Dippler's wife Elise made no objection to the black squirrel being kept in the abbey for a little while. Dann had felt a great bit of weight fall off his shoulders as he saw to the unconscious squirrel being put in one of the abbey dormitory rooms. She was untied then, and Dann had asked a few of the Guosim to keep an eye on her. The abbey had no real prison cell to keep her in, but she was unarmed and the dorm room could be locked, so she wasn't likely to be going anywhere anytime soon.

If that wasn't enough there was also Cregga. The badger was still missing in action; as was the vermin warlord. The last anybeast had seen of either was the two locked in fierce combat on the walls. Reguba had been the first to suggest the dire possibility that they'd fallen off in the fighting, but a search around the walls had at least disproved that. Search parties that had gone through the woods had thus turned up nothing. Dann could only imagine what had become of the abbey's badger mother.

Dann let a small laugh escape him as he thought over all the days' events. No wonder he felt tired. The feeling nagged at him that there was more to it than that, though. He couldn't keep his mind off of that black squirrel. Who was she? Why was she working with those vermin? What was her name? If those simple questions were not enough there were countless other problems bearing in on the young Dannflorr Reguba's mind.

One vermin band had been turned away from Redwall's gates. But what about the next? As Dippler had said there were apparently thousands of vermin traveling through Mossflower Wood right now, headlining in a steady stream towards the west. Elise had sent out a few scouts after the battle just to make sure; and indeed even as the battle had been fought it looked like many different groups of vermin had been passing by, all looking the to be in same or worse shape as the band that had attacked Redwall.

What could possible be driving such an exodus of vermin? What lay to the east that was driving so many creatures to endless walk, with little food, water, or shelter to the west?

Dann could think of no answer to this; and in all honesty those questions, ones that should take precedence over all others, for the safety of Redwall was his duty, were dwarfed by thoughts of a black furred squirrel.

Vincia Grayson strolled with light steps down the main hall of Redwall Abbey, taking in and enjoying the decorum and the satisfying feel of the rough stone beneath his footpaws. So much like the stones of the Imperial Palace back home, he thought to himself with a pleasant smile on his lips. Woodlanders dotted the main hall, some tending to wounded from the battle that could not be held in the infirmary, and others passing here and there on their own business or just milling about. It was all rather disorderly and it made Vin wrinkle his nose a bit. His was never truly fond of disorder. However, he reiterated to himself, it was his duty and what he'd trained for all his life to deal with any and all discomforts brought upon him in service of the Emperor. He would simply have to endure this country bumpkin life until his mission was complete and he could return to the Imperium.

Reaching the end of the main hall he paused, glancing at what lay before him. The great tapestry of Redwall Abbey lay fixed upon the wall like a living history, old and vibrant, the depictions telling the many tales of the abbey through the decades. Vin was appreciative of the delicacy in the lacework of the piece, and compared it mentally to the many tapestries that spanned the halls of the Imperial Palace. This tapestry would fit in nicely with those works of art. Not bad for country folk. The tapestry had a quaint and calming feel to it. As Vin's eyes slide along the tapestries many varying pictures his eyes settled upon one in particular.

My, my, now that looks like a fellow who would do well in the Imperial Military Academy. Well built, strong shoulders, quite the handsome appearance. Look at those Unclean flee from him. Hmm, it at least seems that while these country woodlanders have soft bellies they at least still hold a healthy tradition of hatred for Unclean. …That sword…I wonder.

He reached out and grabbed the shoulder of a passing young male mouse dressed in a green habit and carrying a tray of cups filled with warmed tea for the wounded.

"You, please if you would tell me good mouse, who is that?" Vin indicated to the creature he gazed upon on the tapestry with a growing hungry light in his dark eyes.

The mouse, feeling a bit surprised and unnerved by the strange look in this otter's eyes looked at the tapestry and replied carefully, "Why, that is Martin the Warrior."

"Martin the Warrior…" Vin let the name slide off his tongue in a slow deliberate manner, as if he were tasting it, testing it.

"Tell me of this Martin the Warrior."
"Oh sir I'm afraid I'm not very well versed in abbey history. I know he was a great warrior who fought to protect this land from those who would do harm to those who live in it peacefully."

"I see. What of that sword he carries?"

"The Sword of Martin? It is a very special sword. You ought to ask Mr. Dannflorr about it; he is the one who wields the blade currently."

Vin's smile, which had been growing ever since the conversation started, now became a toothy grin. The mouse flinched, almost thinking that the smile looked…predatory.

"Does he now? That is quite fortunate. I do believe I will speak with this Dannflorr. Yes, indeed I will. You my run along now, my little friend."

Vin released his strong grip from the mouse's arm and the mouse went scurrying off; happy to be away from this strange otter with the frightening smile. Vin stayed where he was for a time, looking upon Martin the Warrior and his sword.

Yes…I do believe that, Martin the Warrior, your sword is the piece to the puzzle I have been seeking all this time. The Emperor will be pleased…very pleased indeed when I present the sword to him myself. The prophecy shall not come to fruition.

Fear. Pain. Blood. Leon hadn't known what blood smelled like once; but now it's thick scent filled his nose and made him gag. All around was red haze, smoke that carried on it fearful sounds of dying creatures. Screams, metal upon metal; and something else. Something worse. A roar that drowned out all other sounds and sent ice shards into the ratbabes heart. He huddled among bodies; some faces he knew, others he did not. So many dead.

"What…are…you…?"

The voice was faint but firm, its strong tone commanding Leon answer; but he could not. How could he?

"What…are…you…?"

Shaking, eyes closed, paws over ears trying to block out the voice, Leon shouted, "I'ma…I'ma Leon!"

His voice was swallowed up by the sudden rush of flame and heat that suddenly blanketed everything around him. The heat was so intense for a moment that Leon was sure he would be scorched to the bone, but soon the flame subsided and he chanced cracking open one eye. He was in the courtyard of Redwall Abbey, only the abbey was unrecognizable now. All was charred and burned; black as…as…

...a vermin's heart.

Was that his own thought? What was a vermin? Weren't they the bad creatures told in the stories around the dinner table?
"What…are…you…?"

Ash and dust rose from the barren ground around him and formed a fog all over and Leon, now just barley managing to stand up, peered into the fog. He suddenly felt a need to move, to get as far from this place of death as possible. With barely a conscious thought his footpaws carried him quickly through the dense cloud of gray. As he moved he was barely ware of images in the corner of his vision; more bodies, blackened on the ground yet he somehow knew these were creatures he'd grown up with; those he shared his life with. He closed his eyes and ran on, not willing to look.

An eternity, a moment, he didn't know; but after a time his footpaws splashed into water. Startled he opened his eyes and almost screamed. The lake, the abbey pond…its waters were clear as day and in its depths he saw bodies, sunken to the bottom in a pile, some floating about like pieces of driftwood. All strength fled his knees and Leon found himself knelling before the sight, eyes unable to close. A sense twisted inside his gut that he desperately wished to deny, but could not shake. He somehow instinctively knew that he was the cause of all this death. His actions, his very existence, had brought about this horror.

He did tear his eyes away from it then and curled into a ball, tears now flowing freely.

"What…are…you…?"

"I'ma…I…"

The voice became louder, increasing in intensity, and Leon, through his closed eyes, thought he saw a distant image; bathed slightly in ghostly white light. Was it…a mouse?

"WHAT…ARE…YOU?"

"I…dona…kno…"

"Leo!"

A new voice cut like steel lighting through the nightmare. Like a miasma the images, the sights and smells of death, faded and Leon found himself in darkness. But there was a new light, one of blue warmth and Leon felt a pleasant wind on his face, driving away his fear. The voice of the strange mouse faded into a bare whisper.

"What…are…"

"Leo!"

Leon recognized the voice. Standing shakily to his footpaws he shouted with all his strength.

"Terrie!"

For just an instant Leon saw his sister, smiling calmly and happily at him. She didn't seem solid, her body wrapped in a faint blue aura, but it was her. Leon didn't have a doubt in his mind. Terra reached out for him, and Leon responded, reaching his arms out to her. He wanted to go home. He wanted out. As his paw touched Terra's he felt a sudden rush of exhilaration; but it was dampened by a deep planted sense of dread. It wasn't over…it was just beginning. Leon then saw nothing but light.

Songbreeze couldn't stop herself. Tears streamed over her face as Leon's eyes fluttered open and he looked up at her. His body was still tucked firmly in the infirmary bed where Sister Alora had been caring for him, the sheets drenched in the young ratbabe's sweat; his head bandaged. Terra lay next to him, her eyes still closed from when she'd fallen asleep beside her brother. Song had not wished to separate her from Leon while they had still been unsure if he'd even awake.

When the arrow had grazed him during the battle he'd fallen far and hit the ground hard. Before the battle was even over he'd been rushed to the infirmary by one of those he'd rescued from the noose. Alora had wasted no time in doing her duty; Song nearby during the entire time with Terra firmly clung to her shoulder. Alora had quickly cleaned and dressed the cut from the arrow, but had then turned her attention to Leon's head, which had taken a serious blow. Unfortunately Alora's medicinal skills didn't cover such sever head wounds and so she'd only been able to clean and bandage it as well, and ensure that Leon was properly set up in one of the infirmary beds. Since then Alora had been forced to go tend to other wounded as the battle outside ended and many new patients were brought in.

Song had not left Leon's side, nor had Terra. Song had watched intently as Leon drew tiny, shallow breaths, her fears rising every time it seemed as if too many seconds had past since his last one. Now, seeing his eyes open, her heart felt the weight of a mountain drop off it.

"Ma'ma?"

"Oh, Leon!" Song almost instantly leaned over him and gently laid her arms around him, crying.

"Why'sa cryin' ma? Yousa notta babe liks Leo."

"Spirits, dear sprits, thank you. Thank you for watching over my Leon."

Leon struggled in her grasp, squirming and letting out a giggle, "Ma yersa weird."

It hadn't taken long for Alora to notice the commotion and the mouse was by the side of the bed in seconds, leaning over them. "My goodness he's awake! Abbess please be careful, his injuries are nowhere near healed yet!"

Songbreeze Swifteye choked back another set of relieving tears and somehow managed to let go of her grip on Leon. Beside the male ratbabe his sister Terra was just awakening, having fallen asleep beside her brother while he'd been healing. Her small eyes blinked sleepily several times and she smiled over at Leon, who looked at her with a big and odd grin.

"Tanks Terrie! Yousa got Leo outta bad place."

To this Terra simply nodded her head, the small, knowing smile still on her face.

Song and Alora exchanged bewildered looks, and Song gazed down at the two ratbabes, "Leon? Terra? What are you two talking about?"

Leon's face drew up in a frightened scrunch, "Wassa ina bad palce wheres everybeasty was hurtn' scary lookin'. Bad voice, sayin' things," his expression sudden brightened, "Terrie saveded Leo!"

Song didn't understand exactly, and was still trying to piece together what Leon meant when Alora whispered in her ear.

"Abbess, I can only guess, but from a wound to the head like that it might be that little Leon was having some kind of…hallucination. Or nightmare."

Leon and Terra had cuddled together, Leon suddenly going into a rapid and difficult to follow recount of his time outside the abbey; which to hear his voice he must've seen it as some grand adventure. Terra just silently listened, nodding occasionally as she held her brother close, and continued to smile.

Alora too this time to lead Song away from the bed so they could talk quietly, Song starting off with "What is the problem Alora? So Leon had a nightmare. Considering what he went through are you surprised? He's just a babe and he was forced into the center of a battle!"

Alora nodded her head, brown eyes filled with sympathy for Leon and Song alike, "I know. I am not overly concerned with it either…but I've been meaning to talk with you on this matter for some time now."

Song's eyes narrowed slightly, "What matter?"

"Terra. I…didn't want to say anything until I was more sure. I mean, I've only read a little on the subject in the abbey records so…I mean this may concern the abbey's safety…"

Alora trailed off and Songbreeze put a reassuring paw on the mouse's shoulder, regretting having given the healer a harsh look, "Please, just say what it is you feel you must say; especially if you feel it is for the good of the abbey."

"I've been watching Terra and Leon both you know," said Alora "Ever since the night they arrived here at Redwall. They're both extraordinary, I know. Leon's learned speech faster than any dibbun I've seen…and Terra. Abbess she knows things. Things she couldn't possibly have known!"

"I don't follow…"

"Well, there was this one time when Friar Walltin was cooking some of his blueberry scones, and Terra actually crawled up to him and gave him a odd look, pointing at the oven as if something was wrong…like they were going to burn."
"Heh, Alora, you should know dibbuns have the keenest smell of us all when it comes to food. She probably just smelled the smoke."

"But that's just it Abbess! They scones weren't burning yet! Walltin ignored her; and a good five minutes later that oven was smoking with burnt scones…but how could Terra have known they would burn before they even began getting overcooked?"

"I don't think just one event like that is cause for worry; stranger coincidences have happened before."

Alora sighed and shook her head, ears bobbing about "But that's the problem Abbess, it isn't just one event. It's dozens. Ask anybeast in the abbey. Terra may not speak, yes, but she always finds a way to communicate, and she tends to…warn beasts of impending danger or somesuch well before it happens. Brother Erim just barely managed to dodge a barrel of wine in the storehouse that had a loose rope, and the only reason he did was because Terra was there for some reason, urging him out of the way before the rope even began to snap!"

"So…what does this mean? And why tell me now?"

"This business Leon was saying, about Terra…saving him from his nightmare. I don't know, I just think it's another piece of the puzzle. I don't think Terra, or Leon for that matter, are normal babes."

Before Songbreeze could say anything Alora raised a paw, "I'm not saying this is a bad thing Abbess, I just thought you should be made aware of what I'm thinking."

"I…appreciated it Alora. I still don't believe what you say entirely. They are my…they're babes Alora, they have their own strange ways. And if Terra could somehow predict danger, why no warning about the vermin attack?"

After a brief silence Alora said, "I don't know. I guess this does all sound foolish. Even to my own ears. I'm sorry Abbess."

"Don't be. I think I understand what it is your trying to say. I've taken care of them since the day they came, so it is not as if I haven't noticed strange things about them."

Song looked back to the other side of the room, where Leon was just starting to fidget in the bed, seemingly forgetting he was even wounded. His eyes were already alight with the same vibrant energy that made him himself. Terra had curled up and seemed to have gone back to sleep, the tiny babe an image of tranquility; as if there was not a thing wrong with the world.

"It doesn't matter, one way or the other though. They are babes of Redwall Abbey and we will look out for them both; no matter what the future holds."

Cregga may have been blind, but she knew her way around Mossflower Wood. Her body ached and burned from the dozens of wounds marking it, many of them from the claws and axe of a certain ferret who walked beside her, using said axe as a crutch for his twisted left leg. They had both managed to bind and bandage some of the wounds, at least to the point where they could heal on their own, but it was still slow, painful going, this walking.

"Ye a right daft beast," Darr said, perhaps for the twentieth time. Cregga had lost count.

"No more daft than yourself vermin. Now how much farther is it?"

"We coulda gone back te yer precious abbey, gotten ourselves fixed up righn' proper," muttered Darr as they crested another rise in the forest. They'd been heading steadily east since the end of their battle. Darr still could not quite believe either of them was still alive after it. His initial charge had given him a great deal of momentum, and he'd used that to his advantage to lay in a few good blows before the badger's far superior strength and reach started to come into play. Then he'd done something really drastic and tripped the badger, hoping to send her over the wall to her death. Well, she'd gone over alright, and taken him right along for the ride! Darr had underestimated the durability of badgers, as Cregga actually survived the impact, and because her body had softened the blow for him, he'd survived as well.

So they'd both gotten right back up and their fight had continued, raging all the way away from the abbey in into the woods. Darr, having been in many deadly brawls during his rise to the rank of warlord, knew some tricks Cregga didn't when it came to fighting, and since the badger was blind her wrath, reach, and strength only gave her so much advantage. So it had been that eventually both had tired to the point of not even being able to lift their weapons, let alone finish each other off.

Then they had gotten to talking.

Just to pass the time until they got their strength back to finish the fight of course.

Or at least that had been the idea. Cregga had gotten quickly to the question that had been tickling her mind ever since Dippler's news had arrived of the thousands of migrating vermin. She wanted to know why. What was driving them.

Well, Darr had told her. All that he knew anyway. Cregga wasn't sure she believed it. An army of woodlanders, vaster than the stars in the sky? A merciless army of silver metal, slaying all vermin in their path, marching relentlessly from the east? Were such a thing true Cregga could understand why the vermin were fleeing, but it was still a tough concept to wrap her head around. If what Darr said could be believed then there would be tens of thousands of woodlanders, of such a foreign mind as to maybe be not entirely woodlanders at all, and they were coming towards Redwall.

Once, long ago, Cregga had been the Badger Lord of Salamandastron, the great mountain by the western sea, home of the Long Patrol. She understood the value of reconnaissance.

Hence why she'd hit upon the idea that if Darr agreed to lead her east, to the lands of the vermin, to the place where this army of steel clad woodlanders was making its death march, she would agree not to slay him when her arm stopped being numb. With a laugh, Darr had ask if she was daft, then agreed. Cregga wasn't entirely sure if her decision was the right one, not going back to the abbey. But she had to know, she had to see for herself what was driving the vermin in such large numbers. Well, not 'see' precisely, but Cregga wasn't going to let a minor inconvenience like being blind stop her. Perhaps when she returned to Redwall she would've learned something that would help the entire abbey.

So until such time she could put up with the odd company of a ferret warlord.

"An' maybe gotten a bit o' them vittles ye got stuffed all over the place…" Darr was still going on about the abbey.

"Oh, quiet you cur. Don't mention the word vittles. My stomach is aching almost more than my wounds. No how far?"

"Maybe a' walk a' ten day 'er so just ta' get to the edge o' the badlands. Could'b more. We ain't movin' all too fast now are we?"

"No more word on going back to the abbey. We'll heal on our own good time, and find...food along the way. Just, don't mention he word vittles anymore."

Darr chuckled, which turned into a spike of coughing, and then grinned mischievously over at the badger as they kept on walking, saying with deliberate precision, "Vittles."

Cregga couldn't help but laugh. Yes, this would going to be a long journey.