Chapter Fifteen: The Armies Clash
Nettleclaw was awakened by one of his scouts, who was clearly badly frightened, "Chief, there are several hundred hares coming this way, a couple of miles off. They'll be here soon. It's the Long Patrol what'll we do? What'll we do?"
"Get the captains together, quickly." Nettleclaw ordered.
After the scout had left, Nettleclaw buckled on his armor, and coated the sword with a special poison – an extract from the stinging nettle – that had given him his name. It was not deadly, but any contact, even with the flat of the blade, produced an unbearably itching sensation. It was quite distracting, and when fighting an opponent as devious as Nettleclaw, distractions were fatal.
A short time later, his officers were all awake, and standing around him. Nettleclaw glanced around to make sure they were all present. "The Long Patrol is coming; this is what you must do…"
The Long Patrol marched boldly up to the three hundred rapscallions that were camped outside Mossflower woods. Major Dilworth challenged them, "Who is in charge of this lot?"
A ferret climbed up on a large bolder to reply, "I am Nettleclaw, Firstblade of the Rapscallions."
Major Dilworth replied haughtily, "Oh, really? Well, Nettleclaw, you had better turn this bally army around, armed vermin are not allowed in Mossflower anymore; by order of Lord Adaracor of Salamandastron."
It was hard to tell from such a distance, but Dilworth could have sworn that the ferret smiled. It replied, "Well, I'm not about to "turn this bally army around", so I'm guessing that this means we're going to fight."
Dilworth did not like where this conversation was going. Nettleclaw turned and signaled to one of his officers. Dilworth's eyes went wide as a thousand vermin marched out of the forest. The young galloper, Cel, tapped on his shoulder franticly. He turned, and gasped in shock. While he had been talking, several hundred more vermin had come out of the woods, behind them.
The ferret pointed his sword at the surrounded hares, "Attack."