Chapter Six: Nettleclaw Marches to War
Nettleclaw stood on a low hill with his captains, and watched his army as they packed up the camp to march. It had taken a long time to make weapons for all of them. Even more vermin had joined since they had attacked the village, bringing his total army up to nearly two thousand, twice the size of the first rapscallion army, and this time they were much better equipped. However, Nettleclaw would have liked to take a few days for training, but since Blackskull hadn't come back yet, there was a chance that the squirrels might have escaped. If any rumor of his army reached Salamandastron before he did, all his plans would be ruined. If they succeeded, however, taking Redwall and Salamandastron would be easy. Once those two fortresses were conquered, he could garrison the ruins of Castle Floret, Castle Marl, and any other fortress that might be mentioned in Redwall's extensive records. He would become Lord Nettleclaw, with an empire that stretched far beyond Mossflower. But that was getting ahead of himself. Soon he might conquer Redwall. At a signal from one of his captains, three hundred soldiers detached themselves from the main group. These had been hand-picked by Nettleclaw for their stupidity and lack of the ability to follow orders. Mudeye would take them along the west edge of Mossflower, in plain sight. Meanwhile Nettleclaw would personally oversee the rest of the troops which would travel in the forest itself. The three hundred would be expendable if they ran into trouble.
Nettleclaw turned to his army, "Listen closely, because I am only going to say his once, and if you disobey these orders, I will kill you personally. We will be traveling north under the trees. No fires, no noise, understand."
A stoat named Weedear called out, "I'll have a fire if I want one."
Nettleclaw sighed. Weedear was a good fighter, though very stupid. Nettleclaw would hate to have to kill him, but examples had to be made. "What makes you think that? I'm the one leading this horde, remember?"
Weedear grinned, "Then I challenge you to a duel. If I kill you I will lead the horde."
Nettleclaw's answer took the stoat completely by surprise, "I accept."
Wondering why the ferret hadn't asked for anything if he won, Weedear raised his spear and charged. Nettleclaw parried his thrust and slashed with his sword. Weedear blocked it with his shield, and attacked again. They exchanged blows for a while, and then Nettleclaw suddenly hurled his sword high into the air. The vermin onlookers gasped, and while everyone, including Weedear, had their eyes fixed on the sword, Nettleclaw drew the dagger from the back of his belt, and stabbed the stoat in the heart.
"Does anyone else want to try to defeat Nettleclaw?"