-1 "Okay, so here's the plan then," began Hoffy confidently. "We march into that grove, scare the blighters out of their wits, save miz Bankley, and skeedaddle out of there as quickly as we can."

"We just can't march in there, Hoffy," objected Sareen. "You can't think those vermin will be scared of a young hare, a small mouse, and a hedgehog."

"You're right there, Sareen," agreed Hoffy. "Therefore, we must disguise ourselves."

"Disguise?" inquired Pipsey incredulously.

"Certainly, me gel." Hoffy looked around, and his eyes settled on a nearby stream not completely frozen over. He walked down to it and cupped up some bank mud in his paws. "Blech, it may not be the most pleasant thing in the world, ladies, but we're on a mission! Now, follow my command."

In the pine grove, Bankley sat surrounded by vermin guards. A tough-looking rat crouched in front of her and continued his interrogation.

"Now, wot's yore business, stream dog?" he asked in a raspy voice.

Bankley remained silent, not wanting to betray the three young ones in her charge. She only glared at the rat, trying not to be intimidated by the malicious vermin.

"She ain't talkin', chief," commented a stoat.

"Well, get her to talk somehow," he snarled. He turned and leaned in, his face a hairsbreadth from Bankley. "Yore from Redwall, ain'tcha?"
Bankley continued to glare at him, her eyelids never flickering. She shot out with a ferocious bark and bit the rat on the side of his face.

The other vermin tackled from Bankley as the rat's paw covered the wound. He was about to draw his rusty rapier and take vengeance on the offending otter, when suddenly, a blood-curdling whistle pierced the air.

"Whhhhheeeeeoeooooeeeee!" came the voice. The vermin all looked about, their faces worried. They all stared as, at one end of the camp, a fearsome creature, covered in a sickening ooze and bearing a flaming branch trod towards them. It proclaimed in a deep, peculiar voice, "I am Eefoh, Lord of Winter's Bitter Winds! You must flee this grove to save yourselves from the power of Eefoh!"

"Chief!" squeaked a weasel to the rat. "What do we do?"

The rat strode boldly forward. "You don't scare me, spirit. We're the strongest band of vermin around, and nothing's going to move us hence!"

"Then I demand a sacrifice!" bellowed the oozing creature, "or, you shall all end up like this!" The figure reached behind a picked up the small mouse maid Sareen, partially covered in ooze, her eyes terrifyingly rolled back in their sockets, her tongue lolling from her mouth.

"A sacrifice, eh?" asked the rat, with a slight tremble in his voice. He looked to the nearby weasel. "Bring that otter over here." The weasel nodded and shakily ran to the otter. He hauled Bankley to her paws, and marched her over to the rat.

"Will you take this beast here?" asked the rat, pushing Bankley forward.

"A stream dog?" laughed the creature. "Well, I suppose this will do. But I suggest that to prevent my appearing to you again, go eastward, never north! Never north!" At that, the creature grabbed Bankley, doused the branch in a snow bank and fled from the grove, and the eerie whistle was heard again.

"Whhhhheeeeeoeooooeeeee!"

Hoffy, Bankley, and Sareen ran into the night as fast as they could, away from the vermin camp. When they were out of breath, they collapsed in a small cavern. Hoffy cut the bonds on Bankley's front paws, and Sareen helped Hoffy clean the muck off his body.

"I say, great show, Hoffy, and you too, Sareen," said Bankley gratefully. "But where's Pipsey?"

"I'm here!" called the hog maid as she entered the small cavern. "I was separated from you; had to scream into a fallen hollow log, you see."

"Ah, you were that noise," Bankley surmised. She smiled at Hoffy; his ears had been welded by mud into a single head spike, shiny pebbles covered his face, dead weeds hung from his arms, and all manner of branches stuck out at odd angles. "Strike me, I've never seen a scarier, er, what did you say you was?"

"Eefoh, you see, that's 'Hoffy' backwards, Lord of Winter's Bitter Winds. And Sareen there, she's my latest victim."

"Almost, Hoffy; I'm about to freeze from this cold muck!" said the mouse between chattering teeth. Bankley and Pipsey put a small fire together and arranged a meal from Pipsey's provisions. Hoffy and Sareen stood by the fire, letting the frozen mud melt off, and gratefully ate their food.

"I must say, I'm rather proud of you for comin' up with such a plan," Bankley admitted. "I'm sure all of Redwall will treat you like heroes when we return."

The three young ones all exchanged smiles.

A Council of Elders had been called in Cavern Hole. Abbess Song, Dann, Skipper, Deesum, Nettlebud, Asha Foremole, Dobbin, Ventri and Natasha Longlegg, Hollyhock, Poppleleaf, and Sister Sloey sat around a table. Song stood to address the issue of the evening.

"As many of you have seen, there seem to be quite a few birds congregating outside of our Abbey. Now, normally, I wouldn't be worried, but these birds are not wrens or sparrows or robins. These are ravens, rooks, crows, and such like, and I have even seen what I must say without a doubt is a pitch-black eagle. Now, Dobbin, you say you found something in the Abbey records about large birds invading the Abbey before?"

"Yes, Abbess," said the shrew. "I found a record of magpies and crows attacking the abbey in the time of Abbot Mordalfus and the Warrior Matthias. They didn't succeed, of course, but they did manage to take over the attics for some time, tore up the Tapestry a bit, and even took some creatures as hostages!"

"Oh, if only Cregga were here!" cried out Poppleleaf sadly. "She'd know what to do."

"Well, Cregga, I'm sure, would appreciate us figuring out what to do by ourselves," Hollyhock stated. She did secretly wish, though, that instead of visiting Lord Russano at Salamandastron, Cregga was at Redwall. The badger definitely would know what to do.

"An ounce of prevention is a pound of cure, Abbess," stated Ventri. "I suggest no one leaving the Abbey unless approved by you, and that no one should go outside by themselves."

"And though they may not like it," added Deesum, eyeing the sleeping Dweemo on Asha's lap, "I say the Dibbuns must stay inside."

"Of course, Deesum," said Song. "Any other ideas?"

"I say lock up the wall gates every night," said Dann, "and make sure all the entrances in and out of the Abbey are carefully monitored."

"And we should go up in the attics and make sure there are no possible entrances up there," said Nettlebud.

"Burr, whoi not take down yonder Tapestry, just for safe-keepings?"

"Excellent idea, Foremole," said Song. "Yes, I say we commence on these projects tomorrow. Right now, I suggest we all get a good night's sleep."

The Abbess' suggestion was happily met. The Elders all stood from their chairs and retired to their dormitories. Asha walked through Great Hall and stopped at the depiction of Martin the Warrior.

"Martin, please be with Clemm; let him help Juniper however he can," Asha whispered. "And please be with those three young ones and Bankley. I'm scared the Abbey may be in jeopardy, and I want my little Dweemo to not be harmed again." She held the sleeping Dibbun closer to her, then walked off to her room, a small tear forming in her eye.

"Sire, sire!" Wenva scurried up to Vandar as dawn broke. "I have urgent news."

The fox looked down doubtfully at the witch-rat. "And what news is that?"

"During the night, sire, Whitepaw the ferret and a bunch of his followers abandoned camp. They're nowhere to be seen!"

"Abandoned the camp, eh?" Vandar looked off to the White River flowing past, and barely made out vermin tracks on the other side. "Well, we shall not worry about them now," he decided. "Our objective is to reach the far northlands, and today, we shall do just that." Vandar went about the troops, shouting and cursing them. "Come on, you lazy bottom-feeders. We've got some squirrels to annihilate!" Wenva took her position in the carrying basket on Tirb's back.

"Remember, Tirb," she whispered to the weasel, "our time is coming. Always be alert for when I say to leave."

"Yes, I will." Tirb began to march north with the rest of the vermin. "Why did Whitepaw leave?"

"I'm not sure, Tirb. But from now on, trust no beast except me, understand?"

The weasel pondered this for a minute, then replied, "Yes."