CHAPTER SEVENTY-NINE

The gathering chamber of the Long Patrol was packed.

Traveller stood at the front of the room, Melanie at his side, just as she'd been ever since her husband's departure from Redwall. With the Colonel gone, Traveller needed no help in asserting his authority as commander here, but under circumstances as extraordinary as these, having Clewiston's wife standing in solidarity beside him didn't hurt one bit.

"You all know the drill," the old hare officer snapped off. "Single chaps only for this run. Bad 'nuff we've got th' Colonel out there already, so we're not puttin' any other mums or dads on th' bally line here. Pepper, you're in charge o' this little excursion, since you're a faster runner than Trobbs these days, an' speed's wot we need most, t' catch up with those brushtailed blighters; once you meet up with Clewy, he'll take over from you an' run the bally show. Choose the five hares you'd most want at your side in a tussle, an' that'll be your team. Mizzy 'n' Givvy are up in the kitchens now, cobblin' together some travel tuck you can grab on your way out - with all th' blinkin' bruhaha that's been goin' on today, I doubt anybeast'll question 'em. They'll meet you at the north wallgate, since leavin' that way's less likely to raise a fuss."

"You really think the Abbess'll try'n stop us?" Sergeant Peppertail asked.

"After hearin' her upstairs just now, wouldn't count on her doin' otherwise."

"But, just six of us, sir?" Traughber inquired. "You wager that'll be enuff for the job?"

"Why wouldn't it be? Six hares to put paid to six squirrels - an' don't forget, we'll have Alex 'n' the Colonel on our side too once you rendezvous with them. An' mebbe all those Sparra too, unless the Abbess succeeds in recallin' them. Surely you don't grant those treewallopers as bein' an even fightin' match for Long Patrol hares, Sergeant?"

Lieutenant Gallatin remained dubious. "I can see Trobbs' point, sah. Those Gawtrybe can even things up pretty quick with those shafts of theirs, an' then some. They could put our squad in their graves quicker'n I care to admit."

"No need to worry 'bout that, 'tenant," Melanie told him. "I happen to know something they don't. You see, it just so - "

"Excuse me, what's going on here?"

Silence fell over the gathering chamber as all eyes turned to see Vanessa framed in the doorway to the tunnel beyond, gazing in at the assembled hares with an appraising look that conveyed she'd come here expecting to find exactly what she had.

"Just Long Patrol business, marm," Traveller returned, getting over his initial surprise at Vanessa's intrusion; Redwallers of other species so seldom ventured into this domain of the Abbey hares that it was truly unusual to see a mouse among them - although, on this day, if any mouse was to be seen in these warrens, it made sense that Vanessa would be the one.

Her lip curled in disapproval. "I can guess what business you speak of, and I hardly consider it the sole province of the Long Patrol at all. Field Marshal, a word with you in private, if you will."

"Just wot I was jolly well about to suggest m'self. Hold steady, everyhare, won't be a trice." Taking his leave of his fellow Long Patrol, Traveller stepped out into the passage with Vanessa. Behind them, many shuffling footpaws edged closer to the doorway, and nearly every long ear cocked to pick up as much of the "private" conversation as they could.

Vanessa regarded Traveller severely in the hallway lamplight. "You're going after her, aren't you?"

"Bloody well right we are ... marm."

"Even after what I said upstairs?"

"Especially after that. If old Bloodface wants Lattie so fur-sodden badly, that's the very best reason not t' let him get his greedy claws on her, seems t' me. An' if she's really capable of destroyin' him, then the one single solitary thing we can't afford to do is sit back an' let him have her. Those were th' Colonel's standin' orders, an' they would've been mine too, if he hadn't beaten me to th' bally punch. You bet your habit we're goin' after her!"

Vanessa twitched her whiskers, perhaps surprised at the vehemence with which Traveller flaunted her wishes. "Funny, up in Cavern Hole I heard you say no Redwaller must interfere in this affair, for risk of drawing Urthblood's wrath."

"And I meant every bally word of it, too. This we do as the Long Patrol, apart from Redwall, apart from this Abbey, apart from any of you fine folk - so that if it does go awry, this'll come back on us, not you. This is between us an' Urthblood."

Vanessa smirked. "I'll resist the obvious pun about splitting hares, and settle for pointing out that you've clearly not thought this through. Suppose this mission succeeds, and you do win Latura back? Where will you take her? There's only one place in all the lands where she'll be safe, and that's here at Redwall ... which would put us right back on a collision course with Urthblood. And this I cannot allow. If your hares return to our gates with Latura, they and she will be barred from this Abbey, on my orders."

"Then mebbe we'll stash her somewhere else, an' put a good strong guard around her."

"And where would that be? Not anywhere in Mossflower, or the Northlands, nor perhaps even Southsward. Urthblood would still come for her, sooner or later, and you would not be able to stop him from taking her."

Traveller's resolve seemed to falter for the barest instant. "We'll find some place. We'll find some way."

"Field Marshal, I forbid you from doing this."

"Oh no you don't!" Traveller exploded. "You don't get to do this! You bloody flippin' jolly well don't! Not now - not after prancing about the place for the past three seasons like a noggin-curdled, brainbox-battered basket case! Wot, now that you've returned to us outta th' bloomin' blue, with no blinkin' warning or explanation, we're supposed to just drop all our memories of wot you've been like all that time an' kowtow to your every order, even if it doesn't make a lick of sense?"

"It does make sense, Field Marshal, if you stop to think it through; I suspect you already realize this yourself, at least partly, at least on some level. And you've already had your explanation for my recovery. That Latura was able to restore me to my former self with the most fleeting of touches ought to stand as proof of the power she possesses, and of the truth of my statements."

"Oh, it's hardly her power that's the question, wot? You say she's a threat to Urthblood. How do we know rescuing Lattie an' bringing her back to Redwall won't be th' very thing that leads to his downfall? Mebbe he'll try 'n' attack us to get her, an' that's wot exposes him for wot he is, an' turns all the goodbeasts of the lands against him? Mebbe that's exactly wot we've got to do."

"It doesn't happen that way."

He eyed her suspiciously. "Now you're soundin' a lot like Lattie y'self."

"Field Marshal, do you and the Long Patrol still regard Urthblood as a threat to the lands, and to this Abbey?"

"You know you don't even hafta ask that, marm. Course we do - goes without sayin'."

"Then listen to me well. I am limited in what I can reveal, and how I came by such knowledge. But having Latura come to stand before Urthblood is the only way she can threaten him. Even he does not suspect he acts now only to hasten his own potential undoing. If you act now to prevent that, you will squander your one and only chance to neutralize the threat he poses to Redwall and Mossflower. Nobeast else in all the lands holds the means to unseat him as she can. If you bring her back to Redwall, he wins - it's as simple as that. And then, unchallenged, his rule will stretch the span of generations, and your sons and daughters will never see the inside of Salamandastron - except perhaps as slaves and prisoners."

"That's some bleak picture you paint there, marm. But how can we accept it as true? Wot if you're wrong?"

"I'm not wrong. I have dwelt between the realm of the living and the dead for some time now. I picked up a few things while held in that limbo. I know things about Urthblood that no mortal creature could know - and about Latura too. Make the wrong choice now, and Urthblood will remain your problem for seasons to come ... assuming you even succeed, which I see as highly doubtful."

"If this really is such an all-fired big deal, why don'tcha just use some o' your hypnotizin' mind magic on me? Wave your paws, make me change my mind an' then forget you were ever here, like you've done with some of the other folks hereabouts?"

"I can't. This is too important. This moment represents a fulcrum point of history, a juncture in the confluences of fate, a crux of destiny which determines all future possibilities. I cannot impose my will upon it - not totally. Freedom of choice must prevail here - your freedom of choice, Field Marshal. The decision must be yours. I can only hope to influence you in the way that I am now."

"Mmhmm." Traveller glanced back over his shoulder; several faces peered at them from the meeting chamber doorway. "Sergeant, have you got your team assembled yet? Mizzy 'n' Givvy are waitin' on us topside!"

"Um, er, right on it, sah!" Immediately, one of the curious heads withdrew from the portal, and a murmur of voices arose from within as a score of hares stepped forward to volunteer for the mission at paw.

"Field Marshal, I can tell you now that if your hares go out there to take on Urthblood, not all of them will come back. Maybe not any of them."

"We all know th' bloomin' stakes, marm. We're the Long Patrol, an' we've never shied away from a worthy fight before - or from doin' wot's right."

"Urthblood will stop at nothing to win what he seeks here. He will spill blood and take lives to get Latura to Salamandastron."

"Our blood, our lives - which is why it's gotta be us instead of ordinary Redwallers. Push comes t' shove, we'll not blink at spilln' a little Northlander blood of our own. An' if Urthblood considers that an act of war, let his war be with the Long Patrol, an' not Redwall."

"An' let it be with th' Guosim too," came a gruff voice from down the corridor. Mouse and hare turned to see Log-a-Log stumping along the passage toward them. "We ain't Redwallers neither, t' be technikkle 'bout it, an' we been with Lattie ever since th' quarry, so I've grown kinda attached to that airy liddle ragamuffin. So let's go get 'er, says I!"

"Gee, must be open house day down here an' everybeast forgot t' tell me," Traveller grumbled. "How'd you figure it out, Log-a-chum?"

"T'wasn't hard, with ev'rything goin' t' Hellgates upstairs, an' the only two o' you bunnies to be seen anywhere raidin' the larders an' stuffin' provision packs. Pretty clear whatcha got in mind, even if you left the opposite impression at our meetin' up there. An' we Guosim're hardly ones t' sit back an' let somebeast else do all th' fightin' fer what's right."

"Ah. Well, much as we'd love t' have you chappies along for this stroll, when our team leaves it'll be at full bally tilt, t' catch up with Alex an' the Colonel fast as they can. No offense, but shrew legs aren't exactly made for keepin' pace with hare legs."

Log-a-Log took this as a challenge. "You set whatever pace you want, an' you just see if we can't keep up. Our legs might he half as long as yours, but you'll see we can move 'em twice as fast!"

Traveller remained dubious. "How many o' you halfmice plan on joinin' us on this little jaunt? With those frightful ratfaces threatenin' trouble, we don't wanna leave Redwall too lightly defended, don'tcha know."

Log-a-Log flashed a toothy grin. "Well, as me old Log-a-Pa might've said, that's whatcher call a self-correctin' problem. When our rat friends see there's a serious contingent that means business headin' out after Lattie, they'll not be agitatin' half as much as they're doin' now. Way I figger, we can spare a score or so, an' not bat an eye 'bout it."

"Ah, good thinkin'. Welcome then, but a word to th' wise right up front: If my hares find you slowin' 'em down, they'll not slack their stride, slow their steps or loiter 'round waitin' up for you."

"Wouldn't ask 'em too - an' mebbe we'll just hafta show you that when it comes t' scrappin', we 'halfmice' 're as good as a whole hare!"

Traveller and Log-a-Log shook paws, then the Field Marshal looked to Vanessa. "Sorry, Abbess marm, but we're goin'. You may get t' say wot Redwallers can 'n' can't do, but we're settin' ourselves outside that now. An' if Martin really does mean t' try 'n' stop us, guess he'll hafta do it his jolly self."

"He just did ... and it appears he's failed." Vanessa turned away with a heavy sigh. "Now if you'll excuse me, I've got an Infirmary to liberate."

00000000000

As the afternoon stretched on, Alexander and Clewiston found themselves having to take more frequent rest breaks, even as the Western Plains wore away under their footpaws. The Colonel, more suited to an extended run over such terrain than his squirrel companion, nevertheless felt his long seasons working against him, and so the pair quickly fell into a rhythm that satisfied both of them. And never did they despair that their measured progress might allow their quarry to escape them; indeed, the knot of Gawtrybe came within sight early in this chase, and if anything the Abbeybeasts continued to close the gap, however slowly. The simple truth was that six squirrels pushing along two reluctant - and not at all athletic - rats could never hope to outpace or even match two warriors travelling alone and unencumbered. Indeed, the two Redwallers didn't want to get much closer than they were now, preferring to hold off until the anticipated reinforcements arrived.

Overhead, meanwhile, their Sparra escorts continued to circle and swoop, added assurance that the hunted would not be able to put on an unexpected burst of speed, veer off in a new direction or try to go to ground and hide to throw off their pursuers. The sparrows also ensured that no larger group of Urthblood's forces could rendezvous with Matowick's squad to take the Abbeybeasts by surprise.

One glance at the sky, however, gave all the reminder necessary that the Sparra hardly had the high ground to themselves. Far above the Abbeybirds, gray-and-white gulls wheeled and cried, taking a keen interest in the drama unfolding below them. And every once in a while a much larger winged silhouette, dwarfing the Sparra and even the more formidable gulls, could be seen riding the thermals and holding court over the lesser avians present at the scene.

Seated on a grassy hillock, collecting his breath for their next sprint, Clewiston eyed one such shape. "Looks like His Bloodiness is pullin' out all the bally stops for this dance, wot? D' you suppose that's that falcon who's stopped by the Abbey from time to time over the seasons, or somethin' larger? Hard t' tell, at that height. Bit of a showoff, if you ask me."

Alexander squinted up at the birdspeck. "It could be Kystra, or it could be somebird else - can't be sure. Although I think we can safely rule out that owl who dropped by the Abbey last night!"

"Hmm - speaking of dropping by, here comes one of our own featherbags right now. Let's hear what he's got to report."

"Hopefully that help's on the way. At this rate, we'll be most of the way to the mountains by the time we overtake those Gawtrybe."

Sourbill plopped onto the soft spring meadowgrass alongside them. "Shrewcrawlers move in behindyou, northsouth!"

"Shrews?" Alex asked. "Urthblood's Northland shrews?"

The Sparra nodded. "Upfromsouth, downfromnorth, closegap wherefrom youcame."

"Hmm. Sounds like a classic flanking rearguard action," the Colonel assessed. "Any sign of them comin' after us?"

"Toosoon tosay, shrewcrawlers meetup justnow. Not chaseyet."

Alex looked to the hare. "I'll bet they're not for us at all."

"My thoughts 'xactly, chap. They're not to stop us goin' after those bushtails, but to stop any support from the Abbey reachin' us. They must figure there's not much we can do on our own, if it's kept to just th' two of us. Could well be that the first blood shed in this engagement won't be in front of us, but behind us."

Alexander's brow furrowed. "Do you think they'll really resort to lethal force to stop us?"

"Do you honestly doubt for one moment that they would?"

"No. No, I guess not. Let's get moving again; we've rested here long enough."

The two questors had only jogged on a short way farther when a different Sparra by the name of Binch flapped down to land before them. "Listenup, listenup! Rescueoff, rescueoff! Nohelpcoming! Abbesssays, returnto Abbey, nochase, nochase! ColonelAlex, comebacknow!"

"Wot?!" Clewiston shouted, having missed an important element of the bird's rapidfire recall message. "Has the Abbot gone off his flippin' rocker? Why isn't he sending help?"

"Not AbbotGeoff," Binch corect. "AbbessNessa."

"Nessa?" Alex and Clewiston declared in joint surprise.

"Yupyupyup. NessaAbbess greenhabit now, takecharge now, giveorders now. Nessasays, nochase, nohelp."

The Colonel chuffed out his whiskers. "Well, if that's not the furshagged strangest ... Alex chappie, you have any clue or inkling this was comin' down the bloomin' pike?"

"None whatsoever, Colonel. Last I heard, Nessa was the very beast suspected of causing the hornet swarm, and perhaps some of the other mischief this morning." Looking back to the bird, he asked, "Just to make absolutely certain we're understanding you correctly, Vanessa has reclaimed the place of Abbess, and has decreed that no Abbeybeasts are to be sent after us to help rescue Latura, and that we ourselves are to break off pursuit and return to Redwall?"

Binch bobbed his head in emphatic affirmation. "Nochase, norescue, allbirds backnow, allbeasts backnow. Nessasays!"

Clewiston shook his own head. "How can she even do that, even if she has returned to her bally senses? Geoff's our Abbot now; she can't just kick him out of the Abbot's chair! That's a reverse coup, that's wot it is!"

Alex drew a deep, considered breath. "Well, to say that this was unexpected doesn't even begin to cover it. What could Vanessa be thinking of?"

"Nessasay, we rescue LattyRatty, Redbadger attack Redwall."

"Well, that I can sure 'nuff believe - an' it's the first blinkin' thing I've heard come out of this featherduster's beak that makes a lick of sense. Alex chum, dunno whether you deem Nessa's orders worth followin', but I'm not turning around now. I'm stayin' in this bally chase."

Alex stared at the hare. "You can't be serious! Just the two of us, against Matowick's half-dozen, plus Urthblood's birds, plus those shrews who could come up behind us at any time? I've never been one to give my abilities short shrift, but even so, we'd not stand a chance!"

"That'd be true, chap, if it were going to be just us two. But I'm countin' on one hare to match each of those brushtailed rat thieves, with one t' spare."

"Huh? What do you mean?"

Clewiston sighed. "Guess there's no point keepin' it from you any longer. That little exchange 'twixt me 'n' Mel while you were gathering up these pilfered weapons? Orders to Traveller to dispatch a team of six hares, armed an' ready for battle, to join us - an' to try an' convince all the other Abbeybeasts to stay behind, so that this is kept entirely a Long Patrol operation, in case His Bloodiness tries to paint this as a provocation by Redwall he can use to start a war. Sounds like our recovered Abbess has taken care of that second part for us - but if I know Traveller, he'll follow Long Patrol protocol above all else, act independently of Redwall in spite of any decree the Abbess lays down, an' tell Nessa, Geoff and Arlyn all to go jump in the pond if they think to forbid him. So yeah, I think we can count on another half-dozen hares to bolster our party, even if that's all we get - which still leaves the problem of you, since you are a full 'n' proper Redwall defender, an' any action you take against Urthblood's forces could pose us a sticky wicket."

"Ah. So you're saying maybe I should go back, huh?"

"Might spare us 'xactly the kind of complications we're lookin' to avoid, don'tcha know. Plus, you'd be obeyin' your Abbess's orders - not that you've not taken liberties in that regard before, I know. But I'll not tell you you can't come with us if you're jolly well set on it."

Alex mulled it over. "Seems to me that if we do succeed in rescuing Latura, that'll only be half the job; we'll still need to get her back to Redwall. And I think I'm up for playing the role of escort, even if I have to sit out any fighting that lies ahead."

"Makes sense, phrased that way. Except sometimes matters don't leave a chap any choice in such things, an' you find yourself fightin' even after you swore not to. So unless you're willin' to put up your bow 'n quiver an' surrender 'em to me now - which I'd not ask, since nobeast with a brain in its head would go up against Urthblood unarmed - you might find yourself twangin' your bowstring against that badger's creatures after all. An' that could prove tricky - for all of us."

Alex considered these words. "You know, this could all be academic anyway. Traveller might surprise you and abide by Vanessa's orders after all. Or, if he does go ahead and send out more hares, they'd still have to get through that line of shrews that's formed behind us. Either way, those reinforcements might never come - which would render any decision on our part quite moot."

"Oh, they'll come, Abbess's ban or no - you don't know the Long Patrol like I do. An' as for those sawed-off ruffians lookin' to stop my chaps, weren't you there at our Salamandastron Dance earlier this season? There's no defensive line we'd not be able to run clear around, one way or the other - or, for that matter, those ill-mannered runts're short 'nuff we'd be able t' vault right over their scraggly heads, with room to spare for their raised frogstickers too. Naw, I can't see us us hares bein' stopped by Abbey mouse or Northland shrew. They'll come, you can bet your bally bush on it."

"I hope you're right, Colonel. For Latura's sake." Alex continued to debate with himself. "I'm sticking with this," he finally decided. "If your fellow Long Patrol come as you predict they will, we'll figure out what to do then. Until such time, we can at least keep shadowing Matowick, and keep tabs on him that way."

"Right-ho, chap. Kinda thought that'd be your pick, an' truth to tell, I'm glad to have a beast like you at my side in this. So I guess the question now becomes, will we still have any cover from the air?" Clewiston turned to the waiting Binch. "Do you Sparra plan on obeyin' Vanessa's edict an' all flyin' back to Redwall, or might we be able to count on some of you stayin' with this too?"

Binch cocked his head from side to side several times, brights eyes blinking, clearly perplexed by this conflict presented to him. At last he said, "Highwing make alla Sparrachoice, giveorders from WarbeakLoft. Willtell him, letchief decided forall!"

"Hmm - then this could go either way," Alex surmised. "Nessa and Highwing share a special bond going back to their youth, and I suspect that bird will think long and hard about disobeying an order from her - especially if he thinks her newly-restored state of recovery might be fragile. Then again, the Sparra often conduct themselves and their affairs independently of Redwall's furred populace. In that sense, they're perhaps even more autonomous than the Long Patrol, and having them engage Urthblood's forces would not necessarily reflect back on the Abbey leaders."

Alex looked to Binch. "Please fly back to Warbeak Loft and let Highwing know we intend to continue our pursuit of the Gawtrybe, and would welcome any assistance you can render. You'll know before we do whether the Long Patrol are on their way, so if you see them leave the Abbey, you'll know that we still mean to try to rescue Latura, and then we'll need all the help we can get!"

"Flyback, flyback, willtell, willtell!" Already, the skies immediately overhead were growing emptier, as most of the Sparra escorts had turned east and flown homeward in response to the recall summons, never imagining that the two landbeasts might consider pressing on in violation of a direct edict from the Abbess. "Highwing decide, thenmaybe wecome back, rescueratty!"

Alex and Clewiston stood for some moments watching Binch ascend into the sky to join his fellow sparrows on their way back to Redwall. Then the Colonel said, "Well, chappie, the day's not gettin' any younger, and those bushtails aren't gettin' any closer while we're just standin' here lettin' the grass grow under our paws. So let's be on our way, and see wot comes of this, wot?"