From Unexpected Places

Disclaimer: I do not own Redwall nor any places or characters found in the Redwall series, they are copyright Brian Jacques.

Part 1 of From Unexpected Places

The sun was beginning its final descent behind the hills. Its blood rays illuminated the clouds and the steamy jungle basin below. Giant trees rose overhead to spread out their dense canopy. Dew constantly dripped down on the scrubs of moss, creepers and from the vines that hung from the behemoths of the forest. Huge ferns gleamed with moisture and weaved a dense fog.

It was uninhabited by any beast, the resistant jungle proved too hard to live in. An alien inhospitable world.

The group of otters moved through the undergrowth of the forest, their once grand armor now splattered with mud. They had chosen lighter chain mail over the heavier plate but still proved to be boiling in the tropical forest where the air was still and clingy.

Most of the otters had removed their uniform winged helmets, which proclaimed them as the famed Scout Otters, which apart from a slit for their eyes, had no other means of ventilation. They were breathing hard, paws aching over stumbling tree roots and boulders.

Irontail, the captain of the particular guard could see they were tired, from their stances and their ragged breaths. They had been marching for half a day through the hot, humid jungles, hacking through undergrowth. He glanced warily at the trees. The deepening shadows could be hiding anything. He whipped his head around, sure he caught movement. But there was nothing there. His fur started to rise, something was watching them.

He sighed and spoke, "We will rest here for awhile," Irontail spoke, "Stay within hailing distance. Rynk and Runk, you're on guard duty."

The two irresistible otter twins flashed a smart salute, grinning, one of them called out, "Yessir! No one will be getting past us sir!"

Irontail smiled as he turned around. The twins were always in the centre of attention, the humorous pair making light of everything, which often proved invaluable in battle. He could always count on their rather silly remarks and comments always easing tension.

As the Scouts start removing packs, Irontail did a quick head count. Most of them were raw recruits straight out of training on their first real mission. He had some of his regulars such as the twins, and his some others. Irontail pursed his lips, and still kept a wary eye, he still had the feeling that they were being watched.

An elderly otter sidled up to him and removed his helmet, wiping his brow, "Still no sign of the missing patrol."

The otter was oldest in the Scouts, but could keep up with the best of them. His experience and his rational thinking help stem the brash hot heads in a battle. He was also Irontail's closest friend.

Irontail took a swig from his flask, "We have been marching for half a day, and still not a sign of them…and something doesn't feel right. We should have at least caught a glimpse of some jungle animal."

Stoutchest cocked his head, "You're right, something is keeping the animals silent. I will tell…"

An otter, Sleekfur, moved quickly towards them, his expression slightly stunned and he gestured vaguely, "Sire, you should see this…"

Sleekfur was an exceptional scout, and was renown for his speed, and his taste in weapons He had chosen an eastern scimitar instead of the standard sword and his instructor had always said, "blurred lightning, Sleekfur is the very definition of speed." He was often serious and did not quite grasp the concept of humor.

Irontail and Stoutchest exchanged glances and strode swiftly with the otter. They walk a bit from their original position and into a small clearing. The scene that laid before them startled even the battle hardened Stoutchest.

"Hellsteeth…"

Bodies laid strewn in the patch of grass, with blood encrusted everywhere around them. They all bore the same armor of the Scouts. The twin otters, Rynk and Runk were already there, staring stunned at the scene.

Irontail knelt beside one of them and examined him. The otter was young and he had a surprised expression on his face, as if disbelieving what was happening at his moment of death. He noted with nausea that there was a large cavity in his chest, his insides were torn out.

The whole scouts were gathered around the scene, and some of the younger recruits retched. Stoutchest spoke, "This is the missing patrol? What killed them?"

Irontail picked up one an arrow that was lying near by, "Black ash shaft, crow feathers and beaten iron heads… these are used by the Cave rats. Crude, not very accurate."

One of the otter twins, possibly Rynk or Runk, scratched his head, "Cave Rats? Aren't they supposed to be up north? What are they doing down here?"

Stoutchest pointed at one of the closest otter, "None of these soldiers have a single blade wound or arrow wound…but jagged…claw marks... And they are long dead, maybe a day."

"This guard stood and fought, see how they paw prints are edged in a sort of circle. They didn't stand a chance…didn't stand a chance…" an otter called Heneks said, and sat down on the forest floor, rocking back and forth.

Irontail bowed his head in silence, and muttered, "We should give them a proper burial…"

Boom.

Irontail glanced up.

Boom.

The otters glanced at one another. Heneks stopped stared wide eyed at their surroundings. The twins stared nervously around them.

Boom.

"What in hellsteeth…" began Stoutchest. The ground reverberated.

Boom.

"We have walked right into a trap…" whispered Heneks, "Oh Seasons have Mercy! We have walked right into a trap!"

"Still your tongue," Stoutchest hissed fiercely.

Now they could hear unearthly shrieks and screeches, echoing from their far right. Irontail muttered, "Cave Rats, but what is that earth shake?"

Boom.

"Nay, it cannot be…" Stoutchest muttered, "That sound…" drawing his blade.

Irontail glanced at his friend, "What is that sound?"

Boom.

Sleekfur muttered, "We have disturbed something."

The distant war shrieks were drawing closer.

Irontail roared, "Swords up!"

The trees echoed of two scores of blades slithering out of scabbards.

"How many are they?" A young otter asked nervously, his blade paw was shaking like an autumn leaf. The Rats' constant chirruping and guttural barking were getting closer still.

They have been watching us all this time, Irontail realized, and suddenly felt very cold, they know we were here all this time. His heart was starting to pound.

"No, cave rats do not give away their position unless they are great in numbers, and something else that draws up their confidence." Sleekfur replied.

Irontail quickly ran an eye over his guard. They were only lightly armed. Mostly short swords and crossbows, not enough to take a stand.

"We cannot stay here, the other patrol stood and fought and didn't help them," Irontail said grimly, loading a bolt into his crossbow with a clack, "Scouts! Head for the river."

Suddenly, an ear splitting roar shook the night sky, the trees trembled and branches shook, the rat's shrieks rose to in a crescendo. Stoutchest grimly drew his sword, "Now would be a good time to leave."

The Scouts started to disperse and some broke into dead runs. Irontail was the last to leave, urging the last otters to hasten. Sleekfur rotated his blade paw, the scimitar's edge glinting from the dying sun's rays.

They started running, slapping past bushes and branches, the moon flitting past the thick foliage, lighting their path. They ran alongside a group of otters who were panting along as they stumbled down the forest path.

The rat's cries increased as if sensing their prey.

Irontail kept running, his paws slapping the ground, his blood pumping, running alongside more otters.

An arrow came out of nowhere and struck one of the otters in the back, piercing his chain mail. He tumbled and fell with a gasp. The remaining otter gasped and halted at the sight of his dead friend.

Irontail grabbed the stunned otter around the waist, "Don't stay still! Move!" Just as an arrow buzzed past and buried at his foot paw. "Spread out! Spread out!"

Irontail gritted his teeth and put on an extra burst of speed, the otter still over his shoulder. His heart was pounding like a drum, sweat blurred his vision and his foot paws slamming the ground rhythmically, motivated by fear. Night was well and truly setting now, making it harder for them to see where they were going.

More arrows flew thickly through the forest, seemingly out of nowhere.

Irontail gasped for breath as he ran, and heard something rustling the branches of the nearby trees, and he realized with a bolt that the rats were leaping from tree to tree!

An otter in front of Stoutchest suddenly stopped, crouched and fired at one of the dark shapes in the trees. He was rewarded with a sharp yelp, but before he could fumble for another bolt, an arrow seemed to grow out of his chest, and he fell without a sound.

Stoutchest scooped up the soldier's crossbow and kept running. Irontail could hear the other otters crashing through the bush and the screams of the dying. The strange reverberations were still following them, as were the rats.

There was rustling of bushes in front of them and Stoutchest brought both crossbows up, and aimed, they sighed as Rynk and Runk, the twin otters leapt out of the greenery cursing.

Stoutchest tackled one of them and pushed him backwards, "Keep moving! Don't let them take aim!" He half carried the young otter, which was Rynk.

They ran into another knot of otters, and relieve ness etched their faces when they saw their officers. . Suddenly a hail of arrows buzzed angrily out of the foliage in front of them. The otters tried to run right, but were cut off by more arrows. And yet more arrows zipped past their left, throwing up sprays of sand.

They are hemming us in, Irontail thought and drew his crossbow and yelled, "Archers in the middle! Swords out!"

There were a series of surrounding clicks as war bolts were loaded into bows. Irontail could hear rats shrieking louder still, they could smell blood and fear.

"Take Aim! Fiyaaaaaaah!" Irontail roared, and two score bolts whipped through the air, like an angry swarm of bees at the surrounding trees. Dark rats fell out of the trees, transfixed by the heavy bolts.

More arrows fell like rain.

"Ha! These rats have terrible aim! Whatever killed the last patrol it sure wasn't them." Rynk laughed.

Then his words sunk in. And Irontail could see the missing patrol's strewn bodies, ripped and mauled. None of these soldiers have a single blade wound or arrow wound, but jagged rips…

Oh no.

This guard stood and fought, see how they paw prints are edged in a sort of circle…

Something far worse is coming.

They didn't stand a chance…didn't stand a chance…

Boom.

Suddenly, the forest became eerily quiet. The cries stopped. The silence hit the group like a wave, and not even the naïve jungle insects were chirping.

The Scouts quickly pulled themselves up and cocked crossbows, staring wide eyed at the jungle. Irontail could hear his heart beating so loud against his armor. The tension was so thick that one could almost cut it. They could hear the rats settling on the trees around their clearing, but did not attack.

"What are they waiting for?" Rynk whispered, his paw shaking nervously. Heneks was whimpering. Irontail was a bit surprised he got this far. Sleekfur was panting and Stoutchest still had the two crossbows. The rest of the guard seeped silent fear, held up only by training and discipline. The same question echoed around their minds.

The trees behind them suddenly parted and Irontail turned around slowly and was met by a rolling, hot stench, and heard the sound of heavy panting, and stared at the thing that stood blotting out the moon…

End of Part I To be Continued.