2
Wave upon endless wave crashed against the rocky shores, the sounds of the ocean like a great, sleeping beast, deeply breathing. Rising majestically above the wild landscape was the mountain fortress of Salamandastron, its rocky peaks rising into the mists, its very top obscured by the grey clouds.
In one of the upper rooms, General Archibald Ramsbotham stood peering out at the rugged scenery, straight backed, his arms clasped behind his back. He was a little past middle age, but he had the look of a hare who was honed to a sharp edge by his many seasons rather than softened by them. Large even for a Salamandastron hare, his bushy eyebrows and mustache jutted in concentration as he looked over his territory. For his land it was, from the shores close to the mountain, to the scrub-land and a portion of the forest beyond. It had been seasons past memory since the mountain fortress had seen a badger ruler, and General Archibald was it's unofficial steward. Under the General's command, the fortress was run with military precision, and the hares therein were prosperous and happy.
His concentration was broken by a knock at the door. Mustache twitching, he turned to the stone door that was obscured by a red curtain.
"Enter."
The face of a pretty haremaid peered around the corner.
"Oh, ah, hello there General." Theodora stepped inside, and the General couldn't help but smile subtly behind his mustache. Theodora was a private in the Long Patrol. She was a standout; small, but athletic and intelligent. The General had high hopes for her.
"Yes, yes, state your business," he said, not unkindly.
"Oh! Yes." She shuffled a bit nervously in the General's presence. "I've, ah, been speaking to some of our farmers and gatherers. The food stocks, are, well, a little on the low side." As she continued to speak, her voice became more confident. "I had a look at the records of what we have, and how much we'll need to feed the hares here, and it looks like we'd have enough to survive the winter, but..."
"But only survive, is that what you're saying, private?"
"That's right, sir. We would be on rationed portions close to the end of the winter months and into the early spring. I don't think it's a stretch to say that it would be bad for morale, sir. The land is all farmed out for the season, but I came to suggest an additional foraging party. Perhaps twenty hares? We may have to venture into vermin territory, so I thought sending the Long Patrol would be our best bet."
"Hm. Come here, Theodora." The general walked over to a map laid down on a large stone table. She obeyed, peering down at the map. It was an excellent replica of Salamandastron and it's surrounding territories that stretched all the way to Mossflower woods and the far off Abbey of Redwall. There were expertly forged metal pieces that represented the hare forces of Salamandastron, the sea otter tribes, the mice and other creatures of Redwall, and the vermin tribes of the swampland placed on the appropriate areas on the map.
"So," the General said as he slid some of the metal hares onto the beaches with a carved stick. He pointed to the different parts of the map with his stick as he spoke. "You suggest foraging, do you? But what about making a trip to Redwall Abbey? The goodbeasts there would no doubt have no objection to giving our Long Patrol hares enough food to help us through."
"No doubt, sir. However, we would have no time to get there and back before the first snow falls. Marching with bags laden with vittles in deep snow is near impossible, even for our Long Patrol. They may very well be stranded at the Abbey and we'd not only be short food, we'd be short Long Patrol members to defend the mountain should anything happen. I think foraging is our best bet. We don't want to show Redwall Abbey that we are not dependable by looking like beggars, nor do we want to show that vulnerability to the ghastly vermin in the swamps. I maintain, with all due respect, sir, that a foraging party is our best bet."
The General's eyes twinkled. "Indeed. I agree. You always were the brainy lass, Theodora - " Theodora did her best not to react to the compliment " - I agree completely. And you will be in charge of the party." He moved four metal hare figures up the beach, headed toward Mossflower, each representing five troops. "Take eighteen of our strongest hares. We will need those able to carry heavy packs, march long days, and fight vermin, should the need arise. You will also take the fleetest hare you can find, and yourself. You and they will serve as scouts and runners. This may be a foraging party, but it's a dangerous world out there. You are, as always, to conduct yourself with Long Patrol professionalism."
"Of course, sir!" She couldn't help but sound a little breathless. "I will have them ready to leave at dawn tomorrow, as you say. Thank you, sir."
"Thank you, Theodora. You are dismissed."
As she exited, General Archibald turned to look out the window again. He listened to the sound of wave upon wave and contemplated. The last few seasons had been difficult. The climate and the land was ever changing. It used to be that the territory he held sway over was enough to feed his hares. Truth be told, it still was, he had just not accounted for the new sparsity and not ordered his hares to do the correct amount of foraging on top of the farming they were doing. But General Archibald Ramsbotham didn't want his hares to get by. He wanted them to flourish. The land under his rule was expansive, but so many of it was beach and rock where no wild plants grew - where no fertile soil could be tilled for farming.
It would be easy to rely on Redwall Abbey. The were famous for their food, their hospitality, their generosity. But that wouldn't do. A kingdom - his kingdom - did not get by by begging and trading. No, he would make them self reliant, and it would be simple. They would only have to expand their territory. Not into Mossflower, no. The Redwallers and wonderlands were important allies. But there was unclaimed territory at the fringes of some more sparse woodlands that did not belong to anyone, as well as heathland bountiful with plants and berries in the no-beasts land between shore and woods. And if it meant a comfortable amount of food and self reliance for his hares, the small risk was well worth it. There was a chance they might run into that abominable tribe of filthy swamp rats, but no matter. They would be easily done away with, as they had been a few seasons back when the blighters had dared to tried expand their territory onto Salamandastron land. No, compared to the hares under his command, those vermin would be like dust on the wind. After all...
A hare was a perilous creature.
The chilly Autumn morning dawned over the shores of Salamandastron. Dressed in their sharp looking red uniforms, all with rapiers at their sides, the score of Long Patrol hares stood in formation on the sandy shores beyond the tide line. General Archibald Ramsbotham walked up and down their ranks.
"Adjust that belt young sir, I'll have no slobs in the Long Patrol. Dandelion, stand up straight laddy buck. Tilly, straighten those whiskers, I know you just rolled out of bed, but try not to look like it."
The young Long Patrol hares adjusted their outfits and whiskers as ordered, many of them trying to hide smiles. Once all twenty had been inspected, the General stood before them and addressed them.
"Ahem, right. I know many of you will be tempted to be lax on this mission, as you are a foraging party searching for vittles. I urge you all to treat this seriously. Even in Long Patrol territory, things can get ugly. There are all manner of vermin that encroach on our lands. Reptiles, rats, and even, Lord Brocktree forbid, and rest his soul, pirates. So keep your wits about you and your eyes and ears looking and listening. Private Theodora will be in charge. I trust that in her capable paws the mission will be a success. And if you see anything unusual, do report it back to me. No detail is too small."
Without another word, he turned to head back to Salamandastron, leaving pawprints in the sand behind him. Theodora took the lead in the march.
"All right, Long Patrol hares, lets get moving. The sooner we find that food, the sooner we'll be back warm at Salamadastron scoffing it. Now march!"
In perfect formation, they headed down the beach. As the sun rose their visibility was limited by the thick fog that rolled off the ocean. The hares were born and raised in these conditions and were in their element. As the miles vanished behind them, private Tilly, a large, muscular female hare with a booming but beautiful voice started a marching song. Soon the rest of the hares had joined in lustily.
Oh we are the hares of the Long Patrol
And marching is in our blood!
We patrol the shores of Salamandastron
And the beaches echo with our marching thuds
Come stoat, weasel, fox, rat!
We'll battle any vermin that crosses our path
Eulalia, Eulalia, the Long Patrol shall cry!
Any time's a good time for a jolly old bloodbath
Oh we are the hares of the Long Patrol
And vittles are on our brains!
Send weather, war, and countess miles
We don't know the meaning of pain!
Come snow, rain, hail, sleet!
We'll take it all in stride
Eulalia, Eulalia, the Long Patrol shall cry!
Rapiers held high for glory, we march and march with pride!
Dandelion, another burly hare marching along next to Tilly, leaned over and muttered to her.
"Bit of a ghastly marching song with all that bloodbath talk and all, wot? Did the General write that one?"
Tilly smiled wryly. "I believe he did Dandelion. He's always had a flair for the dramatic. Though it's not impossible that we'll run into vermin."
"Pah. Well I hope the next bath I have is jolly old bubblebath, not a bloodbath."
Up front, Theodora couldn't help but laugh silently, her face hidden from the other nineteen hares as she led the march onward.