Chapter Twenty-One: War
Currare ran faster than he had ever run before, the miles went by quickly. He only stopped to rest once he had reached the River Moss. He crossed safely; evidently the pike that usually swam in the river weren't hungry.
At noon, every hare in Salamandastron, with the exception of Celeriter who wasn't healed enough for battle, was lined up ready to march. The normally talkative hares were silent, most, if not all of them, probably would not return. They all snapped to attention as Lord Adaracor came out of the gate, clad in full battle-armor and carrying his chosen weapon.
It was a gigantic, two-handed mace and chain, but it had not one, but four chains and spiked balls. Granted the chains were thinner and longer, and the spiked balls were relatively small, it was still much too large for any creature besides a badger to lift, let alone swing.
Adaracor was issuing some final orders to Cel.
"Do you understand what you have to do?"
"Yes, sir, have Ghan Cloudcleaver leave tomorrow morning to get whatever troops from Redwall he can, and if I see vermin coming, poison the bally food and water supplies so the Rapscallions can't use them, and get out the escape tunnel."
"Good," Adaracor marched to the front of the army, "Long Patrol, march."
The five hundred hares marched off in silence, for what could easily be the last time.
Currare rested for an hour or two, and then started running again. The night passed quickly, and he was still going. The sun rose, he ran faster. All of Mossflower was depending on him. At noon, he stopped to catch his breath, and heard the sound of many creatures coming toward him. He hid in some bushes.
Captain Resscutt came down the path, at the head of one hundred hares, all carrying long pikes. Curra recognized them and stood up.
"Currare, what are you doing here?"
As fast as he could Curra explained what had happened over the past few days. Resscutt looked worried when Curra mentioned that they were going to attack the Rapscallions, "When is this battle going to take place?
"Tomorrow night, about a mile east of the Ridge of a Thousand."
"Well, we'll have to jolly well run fast to get there, and we still might not make it. If you need to rest, you can catch up later."
"No, sah, I'm ready to run."
The hundred hares sped off, with Currare in the lead.