A pair of, for lack of a better word, despicable characters were on guard duty, chattering about the latest horde gossip. One was a stoat who's most defining feature was a peg-leg. The other, a rather chubby ferret who's most defining feature was his stench.
"I almost got her meself," Lackfoot bragged. "Got this close," he showed the ferret with two claws how close he'd come.
"Nah ye didn't Lack ye great rump, yew was snivellin' from that nasty gash she gave yer bad leg." The stoat scoffed.
"Was not! I was right in the thick of it, I was! Woulda taken her down too if the boss hadn't told me not to."
The ferret gave him a derisive snort. "Well I actually woz near 'er. An' I didn't see yew doin' nothin'."
"I think I'd have remembered smellin' yew, iffen ye had gotten anywhere near the squirrel. Which yew didn't!"
"Did too! I woz the one that brought her down!"
"No ye didn't, de Boss diddit! Even after she cut his axe te splinters!"
"That were a wee bit impressive," the ferret agreed, deciding to change the subject before Lackfoot could find definitive proof of his absence. He had been nowhere near the squirrel attack.
"It woz, weren't it! The way he moved round her like a, like a, like a snake or sommat!"
For the record, neither of these two saw the fight or were anywhere near it.
"He moved like the mouse he is," came the soft drawl of the horde's latest member, a. A fox that went by Bill.
Backstab Bill.
The ferret and the stoat shared a look of surprise. Being new to horde life they were unfamiliar with mutinous talks.
"Well… aye. But it still were impressive." Lackfoot finally said.
Skunksnot the ferret nodded in agreement. "Mice are just small rats anyhow."
"Aye! An' bein' a mouse has never stopped de boss from doin' us good. Skunky was thin as a twig before he joined uz, now lookit 'im!" Lackfoot poked the ferret rather roughly in the tummy.
The ferret growled, and gave the stoat his own not-so-gentle jab. The two quickly devolved into a flurry of fists and paws.
Bill went on, ignoring their scuffle. "I know you told me he was different. But a mouse, really? Leading vermin? It isn't natural."
"Neither's the way ye talk," Lackfoot pointed out.
"Or soap," said Skunky, rubbing a blackened eye. "But we puts up with it anyways."
Bill rubbed at his forehead. I am surrounded by idiots…
Me too Bill... me too...
"We did tell yew we did things funny round 'ere." Lackfoot piped up, when the pause became awkward.
"Yes. Funny. Good wording, that." Bill scowled. "This horde is the biggest joke I've ever seen. Your warlord is a mouse in warlord's clothing- doesn't even have the decency to put armour on- you are all untrained, undisciplined arrow-fodder, the lot of you don't even have a name!"
The two vermin shared a look, their ears drooping in shame.
"W-we can allus give ourselves a name?" Snotskunk offered.
"Yes. A stupid name, no doubt. A woodlander one. The Apple Basket? The Soap Opera? Harl's Horde? The Mouse-following Morons? Nursery For Vermin?"
"Wot in Hellgates is a noosery?" Lackfoot asked, scratching the top of his head.
Bill shook his head. "Why do I even bother? Everybeast here is as dumb as a brick. You're all so thick you have no idea you're being had. But no worries. I'll take matters into my own paws now. Once this place has had a change in leadership we'll be worth bragging about." Bill left, leaving the stoat and ferret to roll their eyes.
"Anover day," said Skunksnot. "Anover Sulan."
"Ye can say that again mucker, brushtail over there got a deathwish."
Bill might have found more ears willing to listen to his 'mice can't lead vermin' tirades were the camp not as busy as it were. The frantic assault of one desperate white squirrel had turned to rumour, and now the panicking vermin were preparing for a legion of bright white, armed to the teeth squirrel warriors- who's blades made their own look like zucchini. The fact that the number of casualties was unclear and that one slavemaster was missing entirely only helped fuel the fires of paranoia. Armour was put on. The slaves were locked in their pens. Weapons were handed out and held in shaking paws. It was time to put their training to the test and Harl's horde were not exactly enthusiastic about the opportunity.
Bill shook his head in disgust. In desperate need of leadership. Scared of a buncha woodlanders. Pathetic. And this lot plan on taking Redwall?
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Darkness had long since descended. Tensions were high and only heightened by the quiet of the night.
Suddenly, the cry of a wolf rung out. It started softly, but seemed to be coming closer... and closer...
"We're all goin' te die!" Skunksnot hollered, doing a Milo as his pike slipped from his grip and clattered to the floor.
Then, the howl was deafeningly and there was a bright explosion of fire at the end of camp. It swallowed the 'Soap Opera' and continued to crawl closer to the guards.
"Bloody Hellgates!" Lackfoot swore, leaping a foot in the air at the sight of the sudden flames. "I-i-it's one of 'em fire-demons! It's attackin' us!"
Then, it sounded like an entire pack of wolves were approaching the camp.
"No!" Bill snapped, loud enough for the nearby vermin to hear. His own eyes were wide, the flames reflecting on them. "Nononono! It's a lot worse than a demon! It's her!
The roar of the flames sounded queerly like the chirping of crickets.
"Who?" Slopgut felt compelled to ask, cocking his head to the side.
"The hell squirrel!" Bill hollered, as suddenly, the barrels of food barrels were set ablaze.
"THE VITTLES!" Skunksnot and Lackfoot cried out in unison.
There came the sound of laughter from somewhere above them. "I'm coming for you, Billiam."
"THAT IS NOT MY NAME!" snarled Bill, brandishing a crossbow.
A lit hellhound came rolling out of the darkness and tapped the fox's toe.
"FU-" It exploded.
Harlapple found himself the only beast in the camp capable of doing anything. As usual. "Put that fire out!" he ordered, giving the stunned fox a hard kick in the shins to get them moving. "Form a chain! You! You! You! No- not you you! Make sure mother and her guests are safe! Dung! Durge! Follow me!"
Of course, my hordebeasts were never all that good at following orders.
"It's hellfire! We have te put it out by prayin' te it!" gasped Lackfoot, falling to his knees and screaming words in a foreign tongue while all around him the panicked vermin scrambled around in search of buckets/ and or water.
"Don't worry vittles!" Skunksnot yelled, pushing a flaming barrel towards the stream. "Skunky will save ye!"
"The end is near!" Slopgut cried, hopelessly unloading a bucket of water onto the loudest fire. Which promptly roared in great delight and singed off the tip of his whiskers.
"WHAT DID YOU DO SLOPGUT!?" A nearby vixen, wearing a bandage round her footpaw, hollered.
"I don't know," the rat whimpered, fanning his whiskers.
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Taking advantage of the chaos, Snowbelle leapt into action. She bundled the sleeping Milo up in her cloak and slipped out of the tent. Whatever had happened was some sort of serendipity, a twist of fate that would allow her to complete her mission. Sticking to the shadows, she fled through the camp, using the chaos for cover. The only beast she knew that could fling fire like that was Phyllis. Taking a chance that her fellow Redwallers were here, she howled into the wind. "Reeeeeedwaaaaaaall!"
"Bit of advice. The next time you run away, try not to shout about it."
Snow froze, spinning around with a snarl to face the warlord mouse. "I'm going tae save my home."
"Save it from what?" Harlapple pointed at himself. "Me, right? And how exactly do you plan on doing that?"
"I… I don't know," she admitted, protecting little Milo with her body. "But I will. I'm not scared of ye anymore!"
"You never were," he sighed. "It's why I liked you." He whistled into the darkness, and no sooner had he done so than Dung and Durge had slunk out of it, now standing behind the squirrel. "Tie her up," the mouse commanded. "But be gentle this time." He grinned at the squirrel. "Now be a nice Snowball and put the kid down. He needs his sleep."
Eyes wide, the squirrelmaid backed away a few feet before making a break for the treeline.
Harlapple face-pawed. "You two… just let her walk right past you?"
"T-te be fair boss, yew didn't stop her either," Dung spluttered out.
"What did you say?"
"N-nothin'!" The two squeaked in unison. "W-we'll go catch her right away boss!"
Stumbling over each other in their race to regain their warlord's approval the two shot off in the direction of Snowbelle. Harlapple shook his head, and followed after at less frantic pace.
Her heart pounding in her chest, Snowbelle ran, now on all fours. She ran and she ran until her breath grew ragged and she could run no more. Smiling sadly, the squirrelmaid brushed back Milo's head fur and ruffled his ears gently. "Stay here Milo, I'll see ye soon, and ye'll be home and safe."
Hearing the vermin in pursuit, she shoved the snoozing babe into a pile of foliage before launching off to another branch, this time being as loud as possible. "Come get me, ye addle brained twits!" she yelled back at the rats huffing and puffing in her wake. "Reeedwaaaall!"
"There she is boss!"
"Yeah! I 'eard her too! She's goin' that way!"
"Thank you, for informing me." Harl frowned. This makes no sense. Why give up now Snow? Why make your presence known? Unless… "You two, follow and catch her. She should be easy pickings now."
Dung saluted smartly and shot off in the direction of the white squirrel.
Durge hesitated. "What're yew gonna do boss?"
"None of your business." The mouse snapped. "Now hurry up and get her."
There was a violent crack as the branch Snow had jumped onto snapped under her weight, sending her plummeting to the forest floor... and right into Dung's stretched-out paws.
"Hey boss!" Dung yelled excitedly. "I caught her!"
"Will you keep it down!" Harl hissed at them from above. Stunned, the pair looked up to find the mouse glaring down at them from atop a tree branch. In his paws he cradled the sleeping form of Milo. "Like I said before. This child is trying to sleep."
"Sorry boss," they said in unison, their twisted faces turning towards the ground.
"Just tie her up," the warlord grunted with an irritable twitch of his tail.
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While I was busy playing Hide and Seek with Snowball, my camp was left entirely at the mercy of my enemies.
Barley's face lit up amongst the foliage momentarily as the first of the explosions flared up. "Tides take ya Phyllis, I think I'm beginnin' to like ya." She turned to Mel and signaled for silence from here on and to follow. Carefully she crept along the tree line and down to the pallisade which had been momentarily abandoned in the chaos.
As literal hell broke loose on one end of the camp, the infiltration contingency crept from shadow to shadow. As they sidled up to a barrel, Barley whispered to the mouse besides her. "Ok, this is our chance. There's only one guard left and he's distracted. You spring the slaves QUIETLY. I'll take care of him. I've got something special for him. When you see him drop, that's when you go. Got it?"
I don't think I introduced these side characters before, did I? Well, better late than never. Melangell is a particularly violent mouse.
Phyllis began throwing color changing chemicals into the fire, making some red, others purple. She watched two guards run straight into each other in the midst of the chaos. The hellsquirrel opened a little pouch she wore on her belt. Oh, how she loved this little pouch! She had items in it that made loud noises when thrown into fire. She also had some oils and alcohols that she was spreading to make the fires last longer.
Phyllis is a particularly violent squirrel.
Barley watched Mel creep up to a cart situated at the edge of the mouth of the pit. Signaling for silence from the captives staring right at her, the little mouse turned and signaled with an ok.
Barley closed one eye and moved her head side to side, gauging the distance of her prey as she loaded one of the cotton tipped quills into one end of her hollow reed. "Don't put it in backwards like ya did last time ya silly rat." She warned herself with a whisper. She took a deep breath and held it, bringing the reed up to her lips. She paused, sighting her prey and with a burst of released air she shot the dart directly into the guard's haunch. Before the creature could even shout he fell limp, knocked unconcious by the nettle concentrate coating the quill. As Barley made her way over to her immobilized quarry, Melangell got to work freeing the slaves.
A tired-looking hare with patchy fur grinned. "Well played chappesses!"
A hedgehog who'd had her quills filed down shushed the eager hare harshly. "Ssssshhhhush cotton brains! You want to alert the whole camp? This is a rescue, shut yer gob!"
A pair of middle aged squirrels pushed their way to the front of the pen: the male a burly fellow (incidentally the same beast whom Disibod had bribed into preparing a special meal for his captor) and the female a thin, beautiful squirrelwife with large almond eyes.
"Are ye here tae help us escape, pretty one?"
"Of course they are, darling! Who else would they come for?"
"Keep quiet!" the hedgehog insisted, giving both squirrels a light smack.
In silence, the liberation party reached the edge of the tree line. Barley handed the guard off to a pair of otters. She cupped her muzzle toward the far side of the camp and let out a quick succession of three trilling shrill whistles, the signal to fall back "Take 'em and follow Young Mel here. We have a safe place not far. Yer all freebeasts an' y'all c'n make your way as ye please if you've places ta go. The rest of ye can make yer way back to Redwall with us when we go. If there be any willing, we could use your help here."
She turned to Mel. "Good job Mellie. Take them to our meeting spot where we stashed the weapons. Go quickly and quietly." She rummaged in her pack and feeling what she was searching for grinned impishly. "I'll catch up soon. I have something I need to give back to our friend Lenny."
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The vermin were still fighting back the fires by the time Harlapple returned to camp. "Lackfoot!" he bellowed, spying the peg-legged stoat ferverently praying on the ground. "Get to work before I set you on fire!" Useless, useless, useless! You're all useless! Setting the sleeping Milo down on a nearby barrel, the warlord got to work bringing streamwater up himself. The fires were half-way out by the time a nervous looking rat informed him that all the slaves were missing.
"Escaped. You can use the word 'escaped', can't you? They aren't missing! I know exactly where they are!" Damned abbeybeasts. He stomped over to survey the damage. Empty chains, empty sleeping quarters, empty ropes and empty collars were all that greeted him there. Even the guard was missing. Harlapple gritted his teeth, his eyes falling upon the pitiful remains of Lenny's mask, hanging limpy from a wooden spoon he vaguely remembered trading soap for.
Damn you Barley Mae.
Footnote: Another super fun battle scene I have very fond memories of working on! The actual order of things was super messy so it took a lot of work to get things straightened out and lined up in a coherent fashion. Loooooots of editting blargh. I hope things are coherent at least X3