The gates of Redwall drew open, and there stood Martin the Warrior, in all his splendor and regalia. His armour glittered like a thousand stars. His shield shone with fresh polish. And in his paw he held... a zuchini.
"You're going to need more than a vegetable to defeat me," Harlapple smirked. "Your time has ended old mouse. Step aside, the abbey is mine now."
Wordlessly the warrior stood his ground, the strength of a thousand suns shining behind him.
"Fine then. I'll just take it." The warlord sprung forwards, his blade raised for the killing blow. Yet a single, swift motion parted him of his weapon, which came clattering to the ground a distance away. He blinked and turned with drooping ears to face the zuchini quickly cutting short the space between them.
The warlord woke up with a startled yell, his heart pounding in his chest. He sat up abruptly, just as Dung came rushing in, an identical zuchini held in paw.
You can already imagine what kind of reaction this provoked.
"Boss! Boss! Yer bird wants-"
"What do you think you're doing!?" The warlord shrieked, standing up on the bed, the better to glare at his subordinate eye-to-eye. He was still several inches too short to do so, but the size difference was mitigated... somewhat...
"Er-" the rat blinked in confusion.
"No! No 'er's! What are you doing running around everywhere with th-that thing?"
Dung raised the zuchini to eye-level. "Th-this thing?"
"Yes. That." Harlapple demanded, seething. "What are you doing, running around the camp with it?"
Dung swallowed, a sinking feeling in his prominent gut telling him he was in deep dung now. "W-weell ye know h-how yew beat the army of white squirrels wiv a zuchini? I just thought it'd come in paw t-te have one wiv me at all times."
Which is an even more ridiculous sentence the more you think about it- because I'm fairly certain Dung was present for the entire 'Solo The Horde' fiasco.
"Let me make something crystal clear for you, Dung." Harlapple curled his paws into fists. His face reddening from the force of his anger.
Before he could unleash his righteous tirade of rage and anti-vegetable propaganda-
As I'm sure anybeast dealing with nightmares like mine would have, when faced with the subject of their trauma.
Lackfoot hobbled into the room as fast as his one leg could carry him. "Boss! Boss! Murderbird wants a word! Says it's urgent!"
"Can't you see I am in the middle of something!?" Harlapple demanded. I really need to get a lock on that tentflap...
"S-sorry boss. I-iss just 'e said somethin' about Redwallers." Lackfoot swallowed audibly, beginning to sweat under the fury of Harlapple's furrowed brow.
A short while later Harlapple, still in his night things, stood at the edge of the camp as Ace Murderbird explained the morning events and his machiavellan plot with unabashed joy. "A-an' I thought of it all by myself Mummy!" he concluded, chest swelling with pride.
Harlapple blinked in surprise, as the hawk's words began dawning on him. A sly smile spread across his face. "Oh you've played your part brilliantly. Mummy's very proud of you, Ace. Very proud indeed!"
Disibod made his way through the cave, checking every nook and cranny for the pellet. Nothing, not even the slight traces of a pellet. He spotted a ledge above that sparked a bit of curiosity. Paced around the spot looking for a way to reach it. He found what looked to be a pretty stable formation of rocks and carefully made his way to the top. To his surprise, he found a pellet.
"Barley, I think I found something!" He waved over to her to catch her attention.
The rat nurse carefully made her way up with Dizzy's help. "I sure hope it's what we're looking for. None o' this feels right."
Disibod led her to the clump of partially digested fur and bones. He squatted down and carefully loosened the bundle with a stick.
"See any teeth?" he asked.
Rummaging around almost elbow deep she let out a whoop. Almost oddly happy and pulled out a still slick skull, its wet surface gleaming in the (torch?) Light. She studied it for a moment, turning it over in her hands. "Well it was a vole. The sinew on the jaw is still intact and has it clamped tighter'n'a badger's grip but I think...I...can-" Snap! With a sickening pop the jaw relented and opened. She began studying the teeth, completely oblivious to the morbidity of the situation.
Disibod sat down and watched, completely fascinated.
"If I can say anything about the Abbot, it's that he had meticulous habits in regards to his teeth. Don't know if you know but vole's have to wear down their teeth. Otherwise they'll grow right through their head, er, at least that's what I've heard. At any rate Valentine was no exception. Look here." The rat surgeon held the head right up to dizzy's face, the deathly visage grinning back. "Whoever this poor soul was did too, but look at these marks." She pointed at the long, yellow pincer-like incisors in the front. "It's rough and not even at all. Valentine wouldn't have been caught dead with his teeth in such a state, heh- oh..." She suddenly realized the unintentional irony of her statement.
"Anyway this ain't him Dizzy." Barley gave the dormouse a knowing look as she placed skull back down with some reverence. "We need to get the others fast. I got a bad feelin' about bein' in this cave." She stood and brandished one of her batons. "If we get eaten in here dormouse I'll kill you with my own bare hands,", she warned, poking him in the nose with the business end of the baton.
Disibod looked down at the vole skull for a few seconds, contemplating. "I trust your judgement. I just thought that maybe I could help out a little... Though it seems to be the opposite case," he said before making his descent from the ledge.
"Well i-eh-cain't faultcha fer-eh-tryin'.", she replied, straining as she descended. Finally leaping to the wet floor of the cave she dusted herself off, surveying the several pathways leading from their chamber. "Now which way did they run off to?"
A yelp from Oakwin was heard coming from the left most passage.
"You alright over there?" Disi called over to him.
Barley's grip tightened around the baton she held.
"Y-Yeah, just tripped... Hey, we found a vole pellet and drug it outside. Do you guys want to come and verify that it is Valentine?" Oakwin said.
Barley looked to Dizzy. "Yeah ok. You alright out there? Where's the bird?" She called.
"We are fine and the bird is out here." Oakwin called back.
"Hello again!" the bird called.
Disibod swallowed hard. If Oakwin was lying, that baton was going to get intimate with the dormouse's head.
Barley shrugged and walked around out of the mouth of the cave, the bright sun washing out her vision momentarily.
Allowing me to perfectly time a sweet little callback to our first meeting.
A bar of soap was tossed at her feetpaws. "Sea salt and sailor's lilac." Harlapple grinned, his chin resting on the pommel of his sword. "Just like you wanted."
Barley growled and brandished the baton above her head before it was whisked out of her paw and she was beset by three beasts, held in place as she snarled, kicking the soap back toward the warlord.
Disibod backed up when he saw Harl. But as he was doing so, he bumped into somebeast. He turned around to see another of Harl's horde members.
"Try not to kick so much," Harlapple booted the soap out of sight as it came skidding towards him. "Or you'll find I'm not just a warlord for show." He gestured to where Lackfoot stood, peg-leg pinning Bryn to the ground (as if she was a great beast he had somehow brought down), to Oakwin whom Dung was holding down with a zuchini to the throat and finally Melangell, who had to be restrained from a distance by Skunksnot, Durge and Meadowblossum.
"As you can see," the warlord went on as Footface brought out a long piece of rope. "You have fallen into my trap."
"Im surprised ye had the mind ta come up with somethin' like that on yer own beetlebrains!" Barley snapped.
"Well actually it was all his plan," Harlapple gestured towards the hawk looming behind him. "Does his mummy proud, the Murderbird does."
"It was all my plan!" Ace echoed, puffing out his chest. "And you all fell for it!"
Disibod solemnly hung his head, realizing what he had done.
"Now. My horde are not very good at their job, so be a dear and make this easy for them."
Barley looked around at her party all in different stages of capture. "Where is-"
The dormouse gave her a sharp kick and shook his head as if to say 'don't say it'.
"... Snowbelle.", Barley corrected as she struggled against the grip of her captors.
"She is not making it easy for us," said Slopgut, straining from the effort of holding down the rat.
"Kin I 'it her wiv this, boss?" the weasel who had disarmed her of her baton brandished said baton.
"Can't you see I'm having a conversation?"" Harlapple snapped at the pair. "Snowball, after giving me this fancy new sword and ever-so-foolishly trying to do me in, is currently wasting away in solitary confinement. She is safe and unharmed. You will be too unless you try something heroic and stupid." He frowned. "I'm having a good morning, I'd rather you not ruin it."
The ratnurse spat at the ground in front of her and snapped her head around to the ample hoardbeast holding her baton. "Just try it lardgut, I'll knock you into next season.", she growled.
"I'm Slopgut, lovely weather we're having, right?" the large water rat introduced himself.
"Kin I please hit her? I 'aven't 'it anybeast in ages! 'Snot fair! I missed the last brawl!" the weasel continued to complain as Harlapple began rubbing his forehead. "I didn't even get ter smack Meadowblossum!"
"Yeah, lets fight big guy. Let my paws go an' I can start with mini-mouse over there." She scoffed.
"Don't drag me into this," Harlapple snapped. "And I am not- You know what, fine," he gestured towards the weasel. "You can hit her."
"Lucky me!" the unlucky vermin cried in glee, raising the baton high.
"Um, mummy," the Murderbird tapped Harlapple's shoulder with a long and scary-looking talon more than capable of tearing the mouse assunder (not that he would ever think of doing such a thing) "There were more of them before."
"Not now Ace, mummy's busy," said the mouse dismissively. "Wait, what did you just-"
As if in response to the mouse's interrupted inquiry, Saracen and Waterviolet leapt from opposite side of the clearing, as they had carefully maneuvered around to position. Confusion reigned as all took stock of the situation.
It was only as the brawl began that Harlapple fully registered the hawk's words. "I see... There were more of them."
Saracen let fly a stone from his sling. It hit true, sending Lackfoot tumbling limp to the ground, freeing Bryn.
"Lacky!" screamed Skunksnot- letting go of the ropes holding back Mellangell in his momentary panic.
Dung too, screamed, though it was more of a noise than a name. He was so taken by surprise he dropped his zuchini.
Waterviolet lunged at (okaies captor), shouting (battlecry) as she struck, her blade barely missing its mark. (captor) released their hold of Oakwin, exchanging blows with the warrior otter as he was pushed back.
Oakwin took this opportunity to attack the nearest lacky.
Which just so happened to be the downed Lacky.
Oakwin realizing that the lacky was downed, went after a different lacky.
And I nearly gauged my own eyes out from the appalling display of combat prowess. Clearly all that training hadn't gone anywhere.
Barley, waiting for the last moment for the ferret with her baton to strike, twisted at the last moment, the errent club knocking her first captor out cold. She turned and kicked out at the ferret in retaliation, a sickening crunch heard as her foot connected with his jaw, sending him tumbling and a tooth high into the air. "I am the bone collector!" she shouted as she wrenched herself free.
"Mummy! Mummy! What do we do! What do we do!" Ace was hopping from one talon to the other in panic. "We're losing!"
"We are not losing," said Harl rather crossly. "Calm down Ace, Mummy's got this sorted."
Barley charged and tackled Harl with a shout.
Harlapple had no time to react. No time to go for the sword stuck in the ground in front of him. No time to do anything but realize that 'Mummy most certainly does not have this sorted!' before the ratnurse was upon him.
"I'll shove that soap where the seasons don't change, mouse!"
"Mummy!" screamed Ace, so overwhelmed with fear and panic that he did not even consider entering the fray himself.
As if things weren't chaotic enough already another self-righteous, pompous- and wouldn't you know it, also a squirrel?- character rather like Snowball, decided this was the perfect opportunity to drop in.
A charcoal-colored figure shifted in the tree above the melee. His feet ached as he pivoted around the trunk to gain a better vantage. The ache had been with him for days and he had ignored it for as long. The trail of his quarry had become hot again and he had track them for as many days to this spot. He wasn't sure which of the filthy vermin below was his target. All he had was a name. Harlapple. And that this Harlapple wore a cape. As he surveyed the ambush below he spotted the caped villain. Reaching for his morningstar he paused. "No. I shall want you alive." Taking position over a rat and mouse locked in combat he leapt from the canopy.
A poor dragonfly was caught in the path of the falling squirrel, and killed by a flailing paw.
"Murderer!" wept Durge, who had been following the path of the dragonfly for the duration of the brawl and now raced to catch it's limp, dying form before it hit the ground. "You killed it!"
Meadowblossum saw the dragonfly as well and screamed in rage. Innocent blood had been spilt! He raced to aid his friend.
Taken by surprise, Montgommery blinked, and promptly brought his morningstar into the rat's face.
"That didn't hurt," Durge promptly blew the squirrel a raspberry and went back to nursing the dragonfly.
The mortally wounded dragonfly, with it's last remaining throws as it struggled for life, gazed into the rat's eyes and seemed to say "Avenge me, kind soul." It then quivered it's last, sparkling wings dropped, and gave up it's ghost, gone for all of eternity.
Screaming in rage Durge rose to his feet and swung hard at the squirrel's head.
The black squirrel, with eyes locked on the caped creature beyond the angrily weeping pair deftly maneuvered between them, clunking their heads together as he passed. "You will find retribution at my hand, Harlapple!", he shouted as he shoulder tackled Barley off of the warlord bodily.
"Who in hellsteeth are you!?" shouted the equally confused pair.
Ignoring the mouse, the squirrel shot an accusatory paw at the rat.
Because no pompous, self-righteous squirrel warrior came complete without bigotry!
"Your reign of terror over these good beasts has ended! Where is he? WHERE IS STERLING?!"
Ace Murderbird regained his composure before Barley could reply, he could think clearer now that his mummy was not in mortal peril, and leapt upon the rat, pinning her to the ground beneath his talons. "Leave my mummy alone you wretch!"
Montgommery was taken aback by the hawk's sudden intervention. It was a surprise, but a welcome one. "Th-thank you, fine bird- but if you don't mind I'll take it from here." After a moment of consideration, Ace brought his other set of talons down upon Montgommery. "I had everything under control, you pompous squirrel!" the hawk huffed indigantly.
Harlapple slowly put together what had just come to pass as he got to his feet. "You made a very big mistake there, old fellow," he chuckled. Without further ado, the mouse brought his foot down sharply against the stupified squirrel's nose. "I'm the one they call Harlapple."