Disclaimer: Me not owning Redwall.

A/N: Yay, schools out! Ok, so this chapter leaves the realms of canon as far are the Guosim is concerned. It just gives some background info that I made up. I'm sorry if it bores you. The rest of the chapter is good though, in my opinion. Thanks once again for the reviews.

Chapter 6

The four creatures strolled into the encampment of the Guosim shrews around noontime. The spiky-furred little creatures were lounging about there camp, stirring soups, and arguing good naturedly. They abruptly came to attention at the sight of four strange beast wandering into their domain, but settled down again once they saw that the intruders only consisted of three squirrels and a mouse. An older, stately looking shrew approached them, his head-fur wrapped with a symbolic looking headband of black cloth woven in with strings of gold. He was clad in a long kilt, held up with a black belt of snakeskin. Thrust through the belt was a short, but vicious looking, saber.

Keem took a step forward and spoke in a rather official tone, "Do ye be the Log-a-Log of these good shrews?

"Well, I suppose you could call me that," the shrew responded in a gruff bass voice, "but, Log-a-Log is such a silly name, doncha think? I prefer the title: Chief, but you can call me Calimb, for that's my name, doncha know?"

Keem blinked a few times, this little fellow went against all he had ever learned about shrews, but he quickly regained his composure, "Erm, well, alright. How do ye do Calimb?"

He took a breath and looked about to introduce himself and the others, but the Chief interrupted, "How do I do? Well just jolly good, doncha know? And, I'd ask you the same question, but I'm not to knowledgeable on how to address you!"

"Well," began Keem, "I am known as Keemin Tae, son of Likeam, ye can call me Keem, though, and this here is Kinliv from the Northlands, the young squirrel to her right is Rowan Battleflight of the Borderlands, and the charming creature to his right is Faraheos, late of Baeown."

"But you can call me Farah." she tacked on as a coda.

The jolly shrew beamed, "Splendid! Charmed to meatcha, doncha know? Well, this is my clan, Avaborit, in the Gwalchgwyn society in the Guosim shrews." He looked at their blank faces for a moment before something clicked, "Oh, I take it you don't know about shrew society," his brow furrowed, "Well this could take a fair bit of time to explain, doncha know?" his face suddenly lit up, "I know! Why don't you come have a bit of supper with my good self, I'll explain it all to you then." And without another word, he strode off.

The little party blinked several times and had no other choice but to follow. He led them to a quite place under a weeping willow on the outskirts of the camp. A small table had been erected and laid on it was some bread, fish, and some sort of dark alcoholic drink. The five of them sat down and at the invitation of their host began to fill their plates.

After they had finished eating the shrew leaned back and began to explain, "Well, lets see, the Guosim is the group in which all shrew societies in Mossflower are contained, doncha know?" when they nodded he continued, "There are about 16 societies in the Guosim right now I believe. My clan's society is the Gwalchgwyn as I've told you, and a jolly good society if I do say so myself! Means "white falcon", doncha know? Ah, but I'm getting ahead of myself. The Guosim is ruled by a council consisting of the leader of each society. The meet once every season to debate and create laws affecting the entire Guosim. Called the Head Council, doncha know? The society leaders get re-elected every three years, so we have a steady stream of splendid new ideas coming in constantly. Now every society is made up of four clans," he ticked them off on his fingers, "the Defense Clan, the Trading clan, the Farming Clan and the Mapping Clan. The Defense Clan, that's my clan, Avaborit, protects the society from vermin and such, the Trading Clan is in charge of meeting, forming alliances, and trading with other creatures and groups in Mossflower, the Farming Clan does just that, farm, and the Mapping Clan explores and maps. Now each society is lead by one main shrew, ours is a fine chap named Gawain, and under the society leader is the Council, made up of the clan leaders, like my jolly good self. Under me there is a small group of three shrews, called the Committee, doncha know? Oh yes, we're a democracy so all these positions are elected. The Head Council every 3 years, the society leader every 2 years, the clan leaders every 5 years, and the Committee every year and a season." He finished, "I think that's about it."

Surprisingly, the guests had clung on to every word. It was Keem who spoke first, "Ye say ye be the Defense Clan?"

"That's right!"

"Would, ye and yer clan the Avaborit be willing to help us on a quest?"

"And what quest would that be young master?" And so, Keem filled Calimb in on their mission to find the army of Radin and slaughter every last one of them. After he finished the clan chief spoke, "Aye, I've heard of the foul beast of which you speak. They say his beasts number over 1000. The fighting beasts in our clan only number to about 512, doncha know?"

Keem nodded, "Ye see, that's why we are going to the grand ole' Redwall Abbey for assistance."

"Well, it does seem to be a worthy cause. I'll take it up with the Committee tomorrow. Ah, here comes one of the members now! Fellows meet my son, Kenafon."

They all nodded and exchanged greetings with the son of Calimb, a tall lean shrew with a claymore across his back. He looked to be of about seventeen or eighteen seasons. The sky was dark by now and all beasts retired save Kinliv and Kenafon who had engaged in conversation.

"I've always wanted to see the Northlands!" he exclaimed when she mentioned her home country.

"Aye, 'tis a harsh place, but beautiful."

"So I've heard, tell me about your life, your journey."

"Curious little beastie, are thee not?"

"Yes, I've always been fascinated by others."

"Well then, I do not remember much about my parents, I have always fought for survival and I have slain more beasts than you have hairs on your braw little head. It was not until recently that my path did cross with the mouse Keem in his deserted town of Yone. Shortly after, we met Rowan, who was half-dead. He recovered and began to travel with us. At Baeown we had our hopes crushed like the city, but it was there that we met Farah. After a bit more traveling we arrived here."

She didn't mention anything about Farah and Rowan's relationship, deeming it neither important nor necessary, but there was a certain almost undetectable chill in the way she said "Farah" that struck Kenafon's curiosity and he asked, "Is there something wrong with Farah?"

"No," she responded quickly and stiffly, "why dost thou ask?"

"Don't hide it; you sounded cold when you spoke of her."

"Thou must be mistaken."

"Hold out your paw." The young shrew said suddenly.

"Why?"

"I can tell if a beast is lying."

Kinliv had spent all her life building up mental defenses, therefore was not afraid to put the strongholds to the test. She placed her paw face up on the table in front of them and he placed his paw across her wrist. He stared deep into her cold slate eyes and asked, "Do you dislike the one known as Faraheos or anything to do with said creature for any reason?"

"No." she responded firmly.

"You lie." It was not a question or even an accusation, it was simply a statement and Kinliv knew it to be true.

The squirrel dropped her eyes, "Yes."

"Thought so, would you care to tell me why?"

"No. I am not even sure myself and you are still a complete stranger."

"Ah, I see, well if it's trust you're worried about, I'll make a vow."

"What kind of vow?"

"An unbreakable one of the strongest caliber; a blood oath."

Her eyes grew hard and she hesitated a moment before nodding, "I agree."

"Very good! As my dear old father would say: No time like the present, doncha know? Well then, I Kenafon, son of Calimb, of the Avaborit Clan of Defense in the Gwalchgwyn Society of the Guosim shrews do vow on my life, my blood, my honor, and my soul to Kinliv of the North to never repeat a word to any other creature of what is said tonight between said Kinliv and myself." And with that oath he slit his palm and held it out to his companion. She too cut her paw and placed it across his. The blood mingled. The oath was sealed.

"Now then," he said in a business like tone, "What grievances do you possess against Farah?"

"None, as far as I can tell. She has not harmed my being or spoken ill against me or my beliefs in any way."

"Do you anger when you see her."

"Only sometimes."

"And when might these times be?" he inquired.

Kinliv muttered something inaudible in response.

"What was that?"

"When she is with Rowan. They are together. Romantically."

"Ah, now we're getting somewhere. Do you have feelings for Rowan, love him perhaps?"

"I do not know."

"How can you not know? I mean, you either like him or you don't."

"I have lived my life in isolation, only seeing another creature perhaps once every few seasons. I have always viewed love as a weakness and have never truly been loved. I have no knowledge of the concept."

"Well you could just have feelings for him, not truly love him. Do you just feel jittery when he's around and depressed or angry when Farah is with him."

In the way of a response, Kinliv thrust out her other paw, the one that she had cut the other day. "I did this to my paw when she told him."

Kenafon looked at the gash in astonishment, "You did that to yourself? How?"

"My rapier. I can never stop thinking of them, and the longer I dwell the worse it gets until I find myself clenching my paw, trying to re-open the wound."

"Do you blame Farah for this?"

The stormy-eyed creature thought for a moment, "No. She cares about him as I do and she is my friend. They are happy together, and I am happy for them. They deserve each other. It is a good thing. I just wish it wouldn't cause me such pain."

The shrew sighed, "Kinliv let me tell you a story. When I was younger I fell for a pretty shrew-maid, about my age. I practically worshiped the creature, she was my life. The trouble was she never noticed me; she was always with some other boy or another always flirting and never staying with the same creature for more than a season. Every time she broke up with a shrew my hopes would soar, only to be shattered within the week. After about the fourth time this happened, I grew so depressed that I brought a fever upon myself. It took three weeks for me to shake it off, during two of which even the doctors weren't sure if I would make it.

"When I recovered, I came to my senses and realized how foolish I'd been to have my happiness, and even my health, depend solely on the actions of on other creature. After this epiphany I enjoyed the rest of my youth. I learned to fight, I learned about other cultures and the government. I even experienced romance during all this, nothing too deep, but it was fun. The point is, when creatures are young they make mistakes. They fall for the wrong creature and suffer for it. Who knows, maybe Rowan'll get tired of Farah and move on and you'll have a shot. Maybe it'll be you who does the moving on. What I'm saying is don't put too much of your self into your emotions right now, and certainly stop inflicting injuries upon yourself. You are better than that."

Kinliv nodded, "Thou art wise beyond thy years."

Kenafon smiled, "Thank you, I hope to become clan chief one day, maybe even society chief."

"Thou shall be a great leader."

"I hope to be. Now, it's far past midnight and tomorrow I shall try to influence the Committee into following your cause. I would like to see how your life unfolds Kinliv of the North."

Leagues away from the two conversing creatures, sat Radin in his Warlord's tent. The Band lay camped around him on the hard earth, but he paid them no heed. His mind was focused on one thing and one thing alone: the fire in front of him. He had no need of a seer to predict the future for he possessed a rare talent known only to some, a talent that hadn't been used in over a century, he could fire scry. He could look into the flames and see anything he wished is the past, present, or future. Unlike the creatures of old, he could not do this whenever he wished; he could only fire scry under the most precise of circumstances. First, the moon had to be full, shining as bright and whole as it was tonight. Next, he had to complete a blood sacrifice by slaughtering a willing beast and throwing the scull into the scrying-flames. This too had been completed if the headless corpse of the weasel Fordle was anything to go by. Finally, the scryer must have sat under the influence of certain herbs thrown into the fire for three hours. Radin's bloodshot eyes determined this step to have been completed. Radin was fire scrying!

The images in the flames engulfed his mind. He saw the scarred squirrel with the silver eyes that had killed one of his hoardbeasts weeks before. He saw the squirrel of the farm he had destroyed and the squirrel who had escaped at Baeown. But, the image that scared him most was that of the young mouse he had killed at Yone alive and plotting, ever plotting his death. He quickly scried their location and found they were at the river a couple days march from his camp. He knew that if they traveled by boat that they would outrun him, but he also knew a shortcut to the ford they would have to cross.

The Band was awakened by the harsh shouts of their drugged master, "Wake up you worthless swine! Get off your lazy arses and move! We'll make the ford in three days time or I'll have your lazy hides! Move!"

No one dared challenge him or complain. They were all terrified out of their weak minds an obeyed him without question. They did not know why or how they were expected to reach the ford in a mere three days, but who were they to question the mad stoat. They would run without food, drink or rest for as long as necessary as they had done so many times before.

More A/N: Yep, very un-canon. That's all I have to say except for the usual pleas for reviews. Ta ta.