THE CRIMSON BADGER - Chapter Forty-Six

"What happened here?"

Urthfist and his hares stood regarding the charred lot by the roadside. Clearly a building had once stood there, a building that had been burned nearly to the ground.

"I don't think your brother had anything t' do with this, M'Lord," Major Safford said, pointing. "This foundation's too overgrown - look, there's even some saplings growing up through the wreckage in places. Didn't Traveller say something about an old church that had burned down many seasons ago, just south of Redwall? This must be the place."

"We can take nothing for granted, Major. We will remain here until Traveller returns with the advanced scouts, and then we will ask him."

"As you say, sir."

Urthfist surveyed the twilit scene around him. Most of the Long Patrol hares stood expectantly in the road or off to the side of it, mindful not to disturb anything that might be a useful clue. A few of the more experienced trackers stalked carefully through the meadows and woods surrounding the ruin, noses to the ground in their search for any telltale signs of beasts who had been through the area recently.

"This does not feel right, Major," Urthfist said. "I was listening to the countryside as we came off the Plains onto the road. I smelled and tasted the air. This does not feel to me like a region that is under siege, or has known some great catastrophe. This is the main road that runs by Redwall, and we cannot be more than a day away from the Abbey. My brother would at least have sent scouts or patrols down this way. So, where are they?"

"Perhaps they saw and heard us coming, and ran off to warn Urthblood. That's wot you'd expect 'em t' do, wot?"

The badger shook his head. "We should have seen something by now. We were told the woods around Redwall were swarming with vermin. We were told there would be goodbeasts waiting anxiously for us to come to their aid. We have heard stories of horrors and atrocities committed in this land. I sense none of these things."

"I know wot you mean, sir. But, wot then of Browder an' his friends? Or the others we met on our way here?"

"I have been wondering about them," Urthfist said. "Including Browder himself, we have seen a hare, a mole, two hedgehogs, two shrews and a mouse, all claiming to be Mossflower woodlanders fleeing from my brother's tyranny. Traveller has told us how Urthblood has seduced some goodbeasts into his service, mainly shrews and otters. Could all of the ones we met be working for him? Spies, to feed us false information and lure us on to Redwall?"

"Doesn't make sense," Safford argued. "Traveller confirmed that Urthblood's army was headed toward Redwall. Unless they pulled the fastest turnabout in military history, they must still be in Mossflower hereabouts. Why would His Bloodiness go out of his way to make sure you know he's here?"

"Perhaps he has some sort of trap in mind," Urthfist speculated. "We must be very careful here, whatever awaits us at Redwall."

Captain Polifly scampered over to them from the meadow north of the church ruins. "M'Lord, the grass over there's all been smashed flat. Not just in a few places, but all over. Evidence of cookfires too. I'd say a large troop of beasts stopped there ... probably in the hundreds."

"How long ago?" Urthfist asked.

"Some of the grass an' weeds are startin' to bounce back, so it wasn't in the last day or two. Three or four would be my guess."

"Hundreds, eh?" Safford mused. "Well, that can't be usual for these parts. Refugees, d'you think?"

"More like an army," Polifly answered. "Seemed too clean to have been anything else. I'd think a large group of refugees, fleein' for their lives, wouldn't have stopped in so orderly a fashion, all sittin' down at once all over th' whole field. My guess would be soldiers."

"I think he's right, sir," Patrol Leader Trinkellian put in, ambling over from his inspection of the road. "Some large group was through here recently, and by the look of it, they were marching in a pretty regular formation. They must've used this place as a stopping-off point, for rest or a meal."

"More like they overnighted here, by the look of that grass," Polifly said. "Doesn't get trampled down like that if you just sit on it for a bit."

"Either way," continued Trinkellian, "there are masses of tracks in the road north and south of here, but they become a jumbled mess right in this spot. They must've stopped here for a while, then gotten underway again." He pointed down the road. "South."

Urthfist's eyes widened. "South? Are you sure?"

"No mistakin' it, sir. They were travellin' south."

The badger looked to Safford. "Major, is there any chance we came off the Western Plains north of Redwall, not south as we thought?"

"Don't see how, sir. Traveller didn't think so, and he'd be the hare to know."

Urthfist looked back to Trinkellian. "Do you agree with Captain Polifly's assessment of how long ago that troop came through here?"

"Well, those tracks would have been washed out by a heavy rain, so it's been since that last blow we got, a few days before Browder came to us. And the impressions aren't deep enough for the road to've been muddy, so it'd had at least a day or two to dry out after that big storm. Then again, it couldn't have been as dry as it is now. So, yeah, four or five days sounds like it could be right."

Urthfist considered this. "That would put them coming through here around the same time we left Salamandastron ... " He turned and looked long toward the west, and his unseen mountain fortress. "Have I made a terrible mistake?"

"P'raps your brother divided his forces," Safford suggested. "Keep some at Redwall, send others south? He might do that, especially if he got more reinforcements down from the north. That would mean he's got even more forces in Mossflower than we'd figured."

Urthfist made no answer, staring wordlessly at the western horizon. His jaw muscles clenched and worked silently.

"My Lord, should we turn around right now and head back to Salamandastron?"

"No, Major," Urthfist replied after a long pause. "We have come all this way for the sake of goodbeasts who might be in distress. Whatever force came through here, they have too big a lead for us to hope to catch up with them. We will go to Redwall, and see if we are needed there."

"Yes, sir!"

"But we will not go there blind, or ignorant," the Badger Lord went on. "We will keep to our plan. When Traveller returns, I will ask him whether it is possible that we might be north of Redwall. We will send out patrols all night, until we encounter an enemy, or until we locate the Abbey. If my brother does have troops in Mossflower, we will find them and slay them. And if we discover vermin within Redwall, we shall not leave until their innards are strung from the battlements and their evil is driven from that place forever. And woe to anybeast who seeks to hinder us, or give comfort to my brother's forces!"

"We're with you, M'Lord," Safford declared with enthusiasm. "We'll give death to every rat, fox, weasel, stoat, ferret and toad who dares to show its ugly face!"

"And if my brother has visited Redwall with his evil," Urthfist swore, "I will wash these lands in blood until the memory of his presence is removed forever from Mossflower."

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Neither the badger not any of his hares paid any attention to the Sparra who'd been perched upon the lower branches of a nearby rowan, close enough so that it could overhear every word that was spoken.

Two of the younger hares, however, did notice when the sparrow took flight immediately on the heels of Urthfist's solemn pronouncements.

"Huh," one idly joked to the other, "looks like we're scaring the natives, wot?"

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Arlyn and Alexander were up on the ramparts with Machus and Mina. The fox had his forces - all the vermin who'd formerly been exiled along with a few of his fellow foxes - positioned at strategic points along the walltop, over the four gates and at the corners.

Foremole and one of his mole crew trundled over to the quartet, bearing between them a heavily-laden basket of rocks and masonry. The two stout beasts tipped the contents out onto the pile of debris that was already there, increasing the stock of crude projectiles that the lookouts could use to defend the south gate, if need be. Elsewhere on the walltop other groups of moles and otters were doing the same, making sure that every section of the ramparts would be well-stocked in the event of an assault.

"Burr hurr, thurr y' go, zurrs," Foremole said, tugging his snout courteously with one digging claw. "'nuff ammunishern thurr t' foight back a moighty army o' them beasties."

"Thank you, Foremole," said Arlyn. "This should be all we'll need, although hopefully we won't need any of it at all." The retired Abbot gazed at the pile of rubble. "You know, the histories tell us that when Cluny the Scourge tried to take Redwall, these were the exact same kind of weapons that we Abbeyfolk used. The sword of Martin hadn't yet been found, and Redwall had no real arsenal, or warriors, for that matter. But we did have chunks of stuff like this, and for the better part of a summer, it was enough to hold off the greatest enemy ever to threaten Redwall."

"Yes," Alexander nodded, "those were some of old Brother Trevor's favorite tales to tell in history class. As I recall, once when the Abbeyfolk grew bored with that, they found a loaded hornet's nest and threw it down at Cluny's gang instead. That took care of a few of those nastybeasts!"

Machus arched an eyebrow. "I can well imagine. I had thought Lord Urthblood had explored every possible weapon to use in battle, but I must confess that's one he probably never considered."

The evening was growing dark around them, as the blue sky faded to the silvery gray of daylight's dying hour. All throughout the Abbey lamps and lanterns and torches were being lit. Their warm, flickering glow already showed through many of the windows, giving the vastness of Redwall a cozy and inviting appearance. On the walltop, the sentries limited themselves to a few small candle lamps, not wanting to give any enemy a clear view of them.

Out of that twilight came Highwing, flapping his way north toward his Abbey home. The Sparra hailed his friends with a musical warble as he passed over their heads, swooped high and wide in a complete circuit of Redwall, then turnd back in a slow descent to the south wall. He landed sprightly upon the battlement stonework directly in front of Alexander and Arlyn.

"Welcome back, Highwing," the old mouse greeted him. "What news do you bring?"

"Urthfist and his hares have stopped by the remains of St. Ninian's," the sparrow reported. "I was able to listen to them from a tree branch without drawing attention to myself."

"Could you get an idea on what they plan, or where we stand with them?"

"Oh, they spoke most plainly," said Highwing. "They spent a long time talking about tracks and such. They could tell that Lord Urthblood's army had been that way, how long ago, and in what direction. Urthfist did not seem particularly pleased by that discovery. Then, they discussed what they would do about Redwall."

"Go on," Aryln urged. Alexander, Mina and Machus gathered close around; this was the most important part.

"Their words were less than kind." Highwing prided himself on his memory of sounds, words and phrases, and being able to repeat things he'd heard almost verbatim. "Urthfist said, and I quote, that if he found vermin inside Redwall, he would, ahem, 'not leave until their innards were strung from the battlements.' End quote."

A sentry rat who stood within earshot suddenly looked queasy, and placed a paw over his belly.

"He also said, 'If my brother has visited Redwall, I will wash the lands in blood.'"

"This ... is not good," Arlyn commented somberly. "Did he indicate what his feelings toward us Redwallers would be?"

Highwing cocked his head in recollection. "'Woe to anybeast who gives comfort to my brother's forces.'"

Lady Mina looked to Alexander. "Lord Urthblood was right: his brother has become unhinged and beyond reason."

"It sounds as if that might be the case," Arlyn was forced to admit. "But now the all-important question becomes, what of his hares? Will they obey his commands if he orders an attack on Redwall?"

"They seemed enthusiastic toward his declarations," Highwing replied. "The one who appeared to be the leader - 'Major' I think they called him - vowed to slay every fox, rat, weasel, stoat and ferret that they saw."

"Well, that's it then," Machus sighed. "If I or any of my troops step outside these walls, we'll be slaughtered. And if we stay here, Urthfist will put Redwall under siege until he gets his way."

"Maybe not," Alex offered hopefully. "Maybe, once he learns that his brother's gone on to Salamandastron, he'll leave us alone."

"Oh, yes," Highwing chirped, "the Major hare asked Urthfist at one point whether they ought to turn around and go back to Salamandastron, but the badger seemed determined that they press on toward Redwall."

Alex looked at Mina, concern for her safety in his eyes. "Maybe if you and Machus organized your troops quickly, you could get out through the north gate and get clear of Redwall before they arrive. They wouldn't have to know you'd ever been here."

Machus shook his head violently. "No. Lord Urthblood left us here to help defend this Abbey. I'll not disobey his orders."

"Nor will I," Mina seconded. "He's right, Alex. We could not even consider such a thing. You're stuck with us, like it or not."

Arlyn stroked his whiskers thoughtfully. "Actually, Mina, you and the shrews could pass for Redwallers. You could stand alongside us when Urthfist arrives, and he'd never be the wiser. Perhaps if you stayed, and Machus took the rest - "

"No - " Machus started to protest anew, but Highwing cut him off.

"Uh, one more thing I forgot to mention, friends. Urthfist has already started sending out advanced scouts north through Mossflower. There may be some outside the Abbey even as we speak."

"Well, there goes that," Alexander said. "Hares are fast, and can cover ground like no other creature without wings. If there's a chance that they're already patrolling this part of Mossflower, there's no way anybeast here can set foot outside our gates."

"Agreed," Machus nodded vigorously.

"So, what do we do now?" Arlyn asked.

"We sit tight," said the swordfox. "My troops will stand watch up here tonight, but we should replace them with an all-Redwall rotation shortly before dawn. I think it will be less provocative if we have only woodlanders in sight when Urthfist approaches."

"That sounds like a good idea," Arlyn said. "I'm sure Vanessa would agree."

"I'll make sure to keep the lamplight up here dim and sparse," Machus continued, "so that any hares who might come up to our walls during the night will be hard-pressed to tell just what kind of creatures are standing watch. We're all well accustomed to dark guard shifts in the Northlands."

"Bet you're glad now that the Abbess made you catch up on your sleep today," Mina said to the swordfox, "because I don't think any of us will be getting much tonight."

The rat who'd looked stricken by Highwing's report was still visibly uneasy. Foremole went over to the nervous rodent and put a comforting claw around its shoulders.

"Yurr hurr, doan't you'm be a-wurried none, no zurr. Uz won't let no 'arm cumm to ee, boi okey uz won't."

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A bizarre kind of ballet danced itself out around Redwall that night. Not once, but several times, hares of the Long Patrol nosed their way to the outmost fringe of woods around the Abbey, where they could watch unseen from the cover of the deep forest shadows. So skilled were they in their stealth that those on the walltops never knew when or even if they were under surveillance.

But the hares did not have things entirely their own way, and as the midnight hour passed, their frustration grew. They might be invisible to the sentrybeasts up on the battlements, but those lookouts were just as careful not to show themselves too plainly to any adversary who might be below. The few lamps that burned upon the ramparts were dim and shielded, so that nobeast would be clearly illuminated in their wan glow. And the height of the wall made it difficult for the hares to accurately gauge the shape and size of the creatures above. Many times they could make out dim shadowy figures pacing back and forth upon the walltop, or others standing stock still at their posts, barely distinguishable against the black of night. Under those conditions, a squirrel might easily pass for a fox, an otter for a weasel, even a mouse for a rat ... or the other way around. There was no way for the hares to tell whether Redwall was occupied and guarded by the woodlanders who rightfully belonged there, or by the vermin that Urthfist had come to destroy.

If there was no way for the hares to tell what the situation was inside Redwall, then it was very obvious what was going on outside the Abbey: in a word, nothing. The Long Patrol ranged freely throughout the stretch of Mossflower that stood between Redwall and the ruined church. No enemy was found, no ambush uncovered, and nobeast of any sort challenged the Salamandastron hares as they reconned the area. The forest was empty of life, except for the buzz and chirrup of noctural insects.

Major Safford crouched low beneath a drooping willow, studying the darkened Abbey from the forest's edge. Captain Polifly crept up alongside him, causing not so much as a leaf's rustle as he moved.

"Crawlin' with vermin, my bobtail!" he hissed into Safford's bent ear, referring to the reports they'd received from the so-called refugees they'd met out on the Western Plains. "If they were ever here, they've crawled underground, or crawled clear away, 'cos they jolly well aren't here now!"

Safford signalled patience with a paw. "Can't jump to any bally conclusions, chap," he whispered. "Bad place to chance it. For all we know, these woods were thick with 'em yesterday, but they all withdrew inside Redwall when they got wind of us. They could be sittin' in there now, waitin' for us to come knockin'."

Polifly shook his head in the darkness. "Too quiet ... too peaceful. Those verminous sorts don't know how to behave that way. I'm sorry, sir, but I think His Lordship pegged it right: these lands don't feel like they've suffered anything terrible lately. I think we've been hoodwinked."

"Mebbe, mebbe not. But Traveller followed Urthblood's forces down into northern Mossflower ... and those tracks in the road by the church ruins prove that some army has passed this way. I cannot credit that they'd pass by Redwall and not stop there at all. That bloody tyrant's a smart one, and he's good at laying traps. Could be he's turned Redwall into the biggest trap of all."

"Yeah, well, if there's any trap 'round here, sir, it's inside those walls, 'cos these woods're clean."

"Does seem that way, wot?" Safford squinted his eyes and strained to get a better look at the distant walltop. "Wish I could make out just wot type o' bally beasts those are up there. Almost like they don't want t' be seen ... which would make sense if they're bad 'uns, an' knew to expect us. Don't reckon it'd occur to simple woodland folk to set up such deceptive lighting ... "

"Wouldn't know m'self," breathed Polifly, "never met these Redwall chaps personally. So, wot do we do now?"

Safford gave the shadowed Abbey one last mournful look. "Nothing for it but to report back to Lord Urthfist. Tho', if he asks my advice, I'll be torn wot to tell 'im. But he's determined to get to Redwall, an' now it looks like there's nothing standin' in his way."