A little scene from one book coming up. Don't know why it stuck with me, but it did. I don't remember what book from.

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Chapter 3: The Last Day of Fun

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Abbot Sathodus, Cythel, and the Abby's Champion talked late into the night with Nightwing, Arathorn and Zanzibar; about Redwall and its Order; telling of the heroes and past Abbots and Abbesses.

Arathorn took off his shield and displayed it for all to see. "This is the Ranger's Shield. Passed down from generation to generation in my family. I don't see how it will help us in the future except for defense in battle. Now if I may continue," –a nod from the Abbot affirmed this- "The Evil One is a wolf. His hoard is very large, mostly martins with some foxes and rats. And he has a secrete weapons that I have no knowledge of how to make; catapults. A long time ago, it was said that my Ranger Clan had once the lore of a trebuchets, but I fear it has been lost." At the blank looks from the beast around him, he explained with a sigh, "A catapult is kinda like a ballista, but it is made differently."

Triebane had heard of ballista in his history class, Martin the Warrior's friend Timballisto had been named after the war machine that shot huge, huge rocks at buildings. They, Martin and Timballisto countless years ago had made one to destroy the evil castle Kotir, and end the rain of the wildcat Tsarmina-Queen of a Thousand Eyes. "I've heard of a ballista before but not a trebuchet."

Arathorn continued, "Aye, me too, but things can be lost. Anyway…"

And he finished his story.

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Salamandastron stood like a yellow rose in a field of red ones; standing out. The sun had risen high in the sky by the time the three ships had thrown anchor. The three pirate ship's crews did not show any awe at the sight. They had seen it many a time when sailing down the seacoast. But then they were in small one sailed crafts. These pirate ships were not sailed by sea rats or vermin of any kind, they were simple shrews; all lead by one leader, Log a Log. This Log a Log was the brother of the one at Redwall. He was more a water shrew then regular shrew for he loved the water and the sea. He and his followers had ambushed the vermin crews of the pirate ships as they landed for more supplies. Taking the ships, they renamed them and made them their own. They freed the slaves in the galleys, told them to have a nice day, and he sent them on their way.

Splitting up his shrews, he promoted two of his faithful and loyal shrews to captain, taking the biggest and best ship for himself. He named his ship after his best friend, who had died while fighting to defend his tribe from wargs, The Ashwind. The day after the attack, Log a Log had decided to leave the place of his birth for safety reasons, and he took the entire tribe with him. Right now, the females were down below the decks of the three ships, some of their children played and scampered around the decks. His other captains, Captain Lariel (a young reliable female), and Captain Katsher (a burly middle seasoned male) had stout hearts and were willing to take suggestions from him and other shrewbeast. Lariel had named her ship Fairelon, after her father that had also passed away defending the tribe that fateful day. Captain Katsher had taken the suggestion from his first mate, Quieon, to name the ship after their old home, Willowtree.

A shrew hanging one of the shrouds closest to the shore on The Ashwind called out, "Captain Log a Log! I sees a bunch o' 'ares and a badger lord runnin' out o' da mountain! I think 'ey be mistakin' us fer verminbeast!"

Log a Log was not worried, as he barked out orders to his first mate, "Well 'en, tell 'em wot we are, Xavier! An' be quick about it! We don'e want 'em ta smash our pretty vessals do we?"

"That's right cap'n!" Xavier called from his point on the shrouds out to the thundering badger and hares. "Ahoy mateys! These fellers here are from the Guosim clan! So don't bang our ship here ta pieces!"

When the badger heard this, all the red mist drained from his eyes. He laughed heartily and spoke in a booming voice of a full grown male badger. "Why, hello friends! Such an unexpected visit! How did you get such pirate ships?"

By this time, the other hares had caught up with their lord, "Sire," said Captain Sandlim, "those shrews had their homes destroyed by wargs, I told you that last week!"

"Right on Captain, but I want to know how they got the ships."

Log a Log had his crew throw anchor and they all trooped inside the huge fortress. He left two look outs on each ship, taking with him all the ladies and children. "We ambushed their crews, we did, Lord Urthord, I don't blame y'self fer thinkin' we were some vermin. Could've happened ta anybeast."

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Later the next day, the shrews took on more previsions and started out on their ships, heading south. After the crews were packed, and babes were settled down with their mothers, Log a Log and Lord Urthord said their good-byes.

"Thanks fer the vittles, yer lordship. I hope you and your hares be prosperious and keep safe now!" The shrew threw a hearty salute and trundled off in the direction of The Ashwind.

"You too, Log a Log. Don't let your family get attacked by wargs again!"

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Redwall was known for never lacking food at great feast. Abbot Sathodus wanted this afternoon to be remembered forever after. He had planned the feast to be a brunch. With all the morning meals and afternoon meals he thought were necessary. He, Skipper and Triebane were giving Arathorn a tour of the Abbey and its grounds. They came to the kitchens; full of bustle of steam, noise and merriment. Meyeirem, the hogwife of Basil, the Chief Cellerhog, was shaving the edges of an apple and damson pie, before putting it in the oven. She was about to open the oven door when a little molemaid called Diggum bumped into the back of her with a flour trolley. Diggum shot off regardless, head down, pushing the trolley at full speed. .Foremole saw them coming, swiftly threw down a barrel wedge and flung the oven door open wide where his deeper'n'ever pie was cooking. The trolley stopped with a jerk, Foremole grabbed the back of Myeirem's apron as the pie flew out of her paws and landed neatly next to Foremole's creation.

"Are the Abbeybeast always so coordinates? That was an expert through um…?"

"Myeirem, I'm Myeirem, the Cellarhog's wife. Pleased t' meet you sir." Myreirem blushed as Arathorn shook her paw.

"Pleases to meet you too ma dear!"

The Abbot was in a hurry, "Now on to the cellar, Arathorn. I have lots to do in preparation for the banquet."

"Then why not let me an' Skipper finish the tour?" Triebane inquired to Redwall's Abbot.

"Good idea, Triebane. Now if you'll excuse me." He left in haste.

Arathorn looked after him. "I'd not want ta be an Abbot, too much things to do; very stressful if ya ask me."

"Being an Abbot or Abbess takes great responsibility, so does being an Abbey Champion. All the Dibbuns look up to you and such. Let's move out to the pond, I have an appointment to meet."

All three friends walked out of the kitchen, up the steps, across the lawn, to where Marion was already waiting. She stood with her back against a gigantic tree. In the middle of it, there was a wooden house, not large, but plenty of space for six Dibbuns to play in. It was a circle of wood planks with walls and a roof built around the main trunk of the tree, the roof was flat with a railing rounding the edges of the tree house. Several small slits were carved into the walls of the house for windows, with wooden shutters to keep out the wind and rain. From moles to voles, the little house in the tree, made by squirrels (after persuading Cythel), was safely and comfortably made playhouse for any type of creature. Whoever wanted to climb up the rope ladder into the tree had to first get permission from the Abbot and Cythel.

Triebane greeted Marion, "Hallo Marion, meet Arathorn, a new comer to our Abby. He is also a great fighter, or so his friends say. Arathorn meet Marion."

Arathorn and Marion shook paws and smiled at each other. Marion could feel power and strength coursing through the otter's veins in his rough paw. She felt kind of embarrassed to have all these beast watch her learn sword play.

"Are you ready, Marion?" Triebane unsheathed his great sword and stuck it point first into the soft grass matted ground.

"Ready as I'll ever be Triebane. Pleas excuse us Arathorn and Skipper, I have a lesson and I don't want you to be in the way."

"Nonsense m'girl!" Skipper smiled and said, "I'd like to watch this ol' mousy-poo here give y' a twirl, eh Arathorn?"

Arathorn launched into his native tongue. "Righto Skip! I'd like ta watch y' if y' don't mind me stayin'."

Triebane winked as he replied, "If you say so Skip, me ol' hardy!"

Marion felt at ease now, and she prepared her weapon, "Com' on Bane, lets show those scoundrels what we got."

Before anyone breathe, Triebane's sword flicked out, and up, disarming Marion with a single swipe. She gasped and stooped to pick up her weapon, only to find its tip pricking her nose. Skipper and Arathorn only nodded, impressed, but knowing.

Wide eyed she asked, "How did you do that?"

Smiling and chuckling he answered, "Three things, concentration, practice, and skill. That's all it takes. Ok, so do you still want to learn?"

"Oh yes! There's been talk of vermin approaching, so I need to know how to defend myself. Again!"

This time she swung her sword, which Triebane had handed back to her, hard left. A counter block from Triebane sent vibrations hammering up her paws to her head. Dizzy, she backed off and sat down.

"I am starting to feel stupid here." She suddenly jumped up, "Wait! I have an idea! Why don't you, Arathorn and Triebane, both show me by fighting yourselves, just one on one?"

The two in mention stared at each other, both questioning the other through their eyes.

Finally, they nodded, and Arathorn spoke, "Only for the fer the purpose of training would I do this, I see that Triebane is a master at the art."

He drew his sword and Skipper moved out of the way calling out, "Now now me buckos! Don't go a murderin' yerselves! I'd better get Sister Icey here in case!"

The otter trotted in the direction of the Infirmary, Sister Icey's Headquarters. She was the Healer of the Abby, treating all kinds of illness with her "Magic Soup" (a dreadful concoction that even though tasted horrible, it healed anything).

Marion watched the proceedings with keen interested, knowing this would be her only chance to see the two fighters in action. Circling, the two warriors looked for a chance to make their move. No one heard or saw Skipper and Sister Icey walk up, the sister carrying a tray of warm food and cold drink. Arathorn pretended to trip on a rock landing on his stomach, so Triebane made his move. Jumping sideways, he dashed for the otter's blind side. Quickly, Arathorn rolled over and pointed upward with his sword at the approaching mouse; a few quick twists, turns and a flick! Triebane made it to the fallen warrior just to find sword flying through the air. Arathorn neatly tripped the astonished mouse and was up on his paws in an instant. A powerful swipe with his paw sent the warriormouse head over heals directly into Sister Icey!

Food and drink spilled everywhere while Marion, Skipper and Arathorn laughed their lives away. Covered in plum pudding, apple turnover and strawberry cordial, the two mice were picked up by Skipper and Arathorn and each thrown over one otter's shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

"Hey! Put me down this instant! You, you savage!" Sister Icey pounded Arathorn's back with plum covered paws.

"Skiiiiippeeeerrr," moaned Triebane, "I've already been beaten in battle! Now you disgrace me more? I though I was your friend, matey."

The otters trotted off, making it more uncomfortable for their fruit covered friends.

"Tisk tisk, me ol' matey'll need a washin' wont 'e, Ara?"

"I say, Skip, 'ow 'bout the pond? They could take a dunk!"

"Ho ho! Right idea mate!"

Marion followed a distance away, eating what food fell off the mice from the bouncing otters. "I say, very tasty pudding, eakhactapooy," she paused in her march to spit out some fur she found sticking to a piece of apple, "nasty fur you mouse!"

"You're a mouse too!" Two humiliated mice sounded at the same time.

At the pond, many fish gathered to eat the leftover food scrubbed off of Sister Icey and Triebane. The opportunity was not overlooked. Every able Redwaller took up fishing poles and bait. The result of the anglers was over ten pounds of fish! Cythel was thankful for the willing help offered by Zanzibar to help take the fish in. A cart was put together quickly for the badger and horse to pull. All the fish were dumped in and the two strong beast pulled it to the door of the Great Hall. Too big to enter, the cart was overturned and the cooks came out to bake out doors.

Nightwing was grateful he wouldn't have to go off and eat somewhere else; he would not eat the fruits and vegetables served by the creatures of Redwall.

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You must understand that there are so many mistakes because at even the slightest move I make, my cat pounces. He's sitting on my lap as I type :)