Author's Note: Part 4 of Chapter 17

Evil is always devising more corrosive misery through man's restless need to exact revenge out of his hate." ~Ralph Steadman.

Half an hour earlier…

Nagrig blinked away the late afternoon shadows that cloaked Mossflower Forest. The flames of the torch he held aloft licked at his right cheek and peripheral vision. He gritted his fangs and let out a bitter growl.

"Sandeyes, you ignorant, shady, entitled dimwits!" He stepped down from a maple log, then turned with his spare paw to help Zakrul do the same. "I told you this wasn't over! Brockhall was just the beginning!"

"Knowing them, they can't have gone too far." Zakrul stepped ahead of his brother down the path, glancing left and right for any sign of the squirrels. "Mossflower is expansive, and it's a labyrinth."

"Labyrinth or not, mark my words." Nagrig came abreast of Zakrul and hoisted the torch up. "When I get my paws on those insolent mongrels, I'll flay them alive! Make all their friends at Redwall and Brockhall watch!"

"My lords!" came Gurutharc's voice from the brush to their right. "Over here!"

They met him on the other side of the bushes. The ermine crouched with one knee on the ground.

"What'd you find, Lieutenant?" Zakrul asked.

"Pawprints, sire," Gurutharc pointed ahead. "Two sets of them!"

"Pawprints!" Nagrig emerged behind Zakrul. He exhaled in relief, but still gritted his teeth. "A stroke of luck! Better than nothing!" He illuminated them with his torch.

"They appear to be heading northwest," Zakrul observed. He followed with his eyes the sets of pawprints deeper into the forest brush. "Past Redwall."

A rustle of brush to their left. Krodnal and a lanky gray-black wearat stepped out from the bushes. Krodnal too held a torch in one paw, and his longsword in the other. The wearat held an iron spear upright like a walking stick.

"Any luck, you two?" inquired Nagrig.

"No dice, my lord," Krodnal sighed in stressed frustration, shaking his head. He twirled then sheathed his longsword. "No sign of Brosk anywhere. I dunno how that hulking behemoth of a monitor lizard managed to cover his tracks. But by Morringtat, he did!"

"Worra these?" The wearat knelt down beside the pawprints indented in the dirt.

"Pawprints, Blackwhisker," Nagrig explained. "Though whether they came from the Sandeyes, or some other beasts entirely, is unclear."

Blackwhisker sniffed each set of pawprints, careful not to ruin their shape. He measured every single one with his thumbs. His tongue stuck out of one side of his mouth and he closed one emotionless black eye. Nagrig and the others watched in silence. He crept along the dirt parallel to the impressions. Glancing towards the northwest, then at them, and back again.

"Dey moved quite slowly. Unrushed. Real creepin'-like, stealthier dan evenin' shadows. Dey weren't in no 'urry. Wot dey were doin', or where dey were goin', though, I can't tell. But fret not. Blackwhisker's got da scen'!"

Nagrig let out a stressed sigh. Facepalming himself, it grew into a growl of frustration. "Why in HellGates is this taking so long?!"

"You forget yourself too easily, brother." A stern but empowering Zakrul turned to his sibling. "You are a hunter! So hunt!"

Nagrig peered out from behind his fingers at Zakrul. He dropped his paw by his side. "Yes! You are right, Zakrul. I must hunt!"

He exhaled, then put his paws on his hips. "If we're going to figure out where our prey went, we must first figure out how they think. What do we know about the Sandeyes?"

"You said it yourself, Nagrig." Zakrul put his paws in his pockets. "Ignorant, shady, entitled dimwits."

"As for Brosk, there's no reason why he couldn't have struck out on his own," Gurutharc commented, standing up.

"Good point." Nagrig rubbed his chin and stared ahead into the brush. "We ought to follow these pawprints, at least. Perhaps we'll find some clues along the way. Look for anything that could indicate which direction they might've gone."

They stepped around the lines of pawprints to dive deep into the forest brush. Nagrig and Krodnal held their torches out in front of themselves. The dancing amber flames illuminated the shadowy forest zigzaggedly lit with milky moonbeams.

"Seems da pawsteps stop 'ere, milords." Blackwhisker again knelt on the ground to examine the continuous trail. "Methinks dey might've started treejumpin' after dat…"

He peered and felt up a walnut tree trunk. "Aye, see 'ere, sires? Dese be marks where dey gripped da bark ta 'elp 'em scale." He tapped the residual claw marks to indicate for the others. "So squirrels fer sure."

"They definitely kept to the trees." Gurutharc gestured at the dense forest encircling them. "To keep out of sight of us as much as possible. If we can't see them, they can't see us, right?"

"Aye, dey 'ad ta' 'ave gone dis way!" Blackwhisker tapped his spear on the ground for emphasis. "Jus' a matta o' fin'in' 'em naow!"

"So we're on the Sandeyes' trail. Good." Nagrig nodded then stared around at the forest.

"Maybe Brosk wandered off in the opposite direction?" suggested Gurutharc. "That would lead him towards St. Ninian's Church, and eventually Brockhall."

"Perhaps he too got sick and tired of waiting for results from the hunt," Zakrul tacked on and shrugged.

"No, not Brosk." Nagrig shook his head, disagreeing. "Not waiting for results. For himself."

"After what you did to him, what you made him do…I'm hardly surprised." Zakrul gave a nod of acknowledgment to the belt of monitor lizard scales fashioned around Nagrig's waist.

"All to ensure his undying loyalty to me." A sadistic chuckle escaped Nagrig. He rubbed his thumb and fingers together in a highly self-confident manner. "Anyway, beyond here is the Flatlands, and then the River Moss. It might not hurt to look there, just to be absolutely sure."

"Nagrig." Zakrul stepped up to him. "Remember it took us two whole days to return to camp from Brockhall. The Sandeyes could be miles away from here by now. I strongly insist that we call it a night, and start our search fresh in the morning."

"Aye, I've a mind to agree with His Grace," Gurutharc nodded and came abreast of Zakrul. "We'll be able to see much more in broad daylight."

"What?! Give up now?" Nagrig gaped back at them, incredulous. "But we can still find them! You heard Blackwhisker, he's got their scent! Who knows how close we are?"

"And who knows how far?" Zakrul countered. "It's nearly sunset, Nagrig, and everyone is getting hungry for dinner. The night isn't helping us at all. We must wait for daytime."

"Then again," Krodnal came up between the two rats and their ermine lieutenant. He held a paw to his grumbling stomach. "If we continue on now, we might catch them unawares. While they're either in the middle of feasting or conked out all sleep-like."

"What think you, Blackwhisker?" Nagrig glanced aside to ask the wearat. "Should we give up the search now and return to camp for slumber? Or continue on until we find our quarry?"

"Methinks it 'twould behoove us little t' quit while we're ahead, milord Deat'blade," Blackwhisker put his free paw to his heart and bowed his head. "We should carry on now dat we've got th' scen'."

"He's right," Nagrig told the others. "We've come too far to stop now. We have to keep going!"

"Aye, lookee here, sires!" Blackwhisker felt around the tree branches. "Claw marks! From where dem squirrels must've gripped da trees from which dey were jumpin'!"

"And here, too, milords," Krodnal illuminated a grouping of vines dangling from the next tree over. "I reckon they might've used these vines to swing, to help get them to their destination faster."

Nagrig ran a hand down a trunk. "Moss." He rubbed his fingers together. "If they were indeed heading northwest," he looked the tree over from its roots to its branches. "Then they followed the moss. But to where? And why?"

"A garden, perhaps?"

Nagrig wheeled around to his brother. "How in Morringtat did you deduce that, Zakrul?"

"Well, Mossflower is a forest, isn't it?" Zakrul stepped up beside his brother. "Which means it's a ripe place for agriculture. Farming and gardening would be the most common occupations here. Creatures living off the land itself. The gang-pressed vermin in our ranks had to have gotten their food somewhere. If not grown themselves, then with others."

"So, we have to look out for a garden?" Krodnal stared down the northwest roads. "But why would the Sandeyes want to go there? Why not to Tinarandel's blacksmith's forge?"

"We already checked his forge, remember?" Zakrul waved a dismissive paw. "He's not there. And Isidith's greenhouse is inside Redwall Abbey's walls. Too risky to try to infiltrate. In an environment like this, a garden is the most logical place to go. But I'm making a wild guess, of course."

"More!" Nagrig peered in between the branches of the trees. "Little scuffs and scratch marks from where they landed. Aye, they were indeed heading this way."

"I see your point, milord." Gurutharc nodded at the tree roots. "The scraped-off bark all landed here on the forest floor."

"So they must've walked a ways on the western paths…" Nagrig followed the patterns in the trees. "...then turned to the trees for fun and to cover more ground in less time. They then used the vines to further increase their speed and adrenaline."

"The pieces are adding up." Zakrul gazed up at the trees and nodded. "Right before our eyes. We have the scent, and the path. Now all we have to do is follow them!"

They continued onwards, keeping their eyes peeled. Scrapes and scuffs in the tree branches. Changes in the vine textures and shapes where paws had grabbed and squeezed them. Nagrig and Krodnal took point with Blackwhisker between them.

At last, they finally arrived at a towering redwood tree. Leaves lay scattered about its roots. The longest vine coiled around the thickest branch sat on the ground. In the distance, the cawing of ravens.

And voices.

"Seasons, I'm beat. What a bountiful harvest!"

"I'll say! We were ridiculously productive. And just with the four of us!"

"That's us Southerners for you, Jared. We work mighty hard."

"And as an Easterner who's dedicated to helping out around his village, that's something I can admire."

"We found them," Nagrig whispered. "Or one of them. That squirrelmaid doesn't sound like Isidith."

"We'll have to make do with one half." Zakrul approached the mahogany gate with Gurutharc in tow.

"We've come too far to quit now," added the Lieutenant, walking abreast of Zakrul. "Let's get Tinarandel now while we still have some sunlight!"

"Aye, let's go!" Blackwhisker thumped his spear on the leaves. "Time's o' da essence, as dey say!"

"Your Lordship should be the first one to pass through." Krodnal bowed with his longsword to his heart. He rustled the bushes. So too did Nagrig shuffle the leaves underfoot.

Silence for a moment, then-

"Hold up, Larina. We're not alone."

"Now's our chance. Go!"

At Nagrig's command, he and Krodnal blew out their torches. Gurutharc took and stowed them away inside his travel pack.

Creeeaak!

Jared stumbled and staggered into the Skeleton Rocks kicking and screaming. Evelyn and Peter tailed close behind.

"How dare you infernal vermin treat us in this manner!" Peter spat in Blackwhisker's face. "Release us this very instant!"

"Let Jared Sandeye go!" Evelyn begged Gurutharc from behind her husband. She could not tear her eyes from the younger captive male squirrel being dragged behind Zakrul. "He's done nothing to wrong you vermin!"

"Nothing?" Nagrig allowed himself a sardonic laugh. "I think you'll find that he's done a great many things to wrong us. And not just him, either; or his sister."

He seated himself on his stool by the fire. Zakrul and Krodnal threw Jared at his feet. The squirrel collapsed on the ground on his side. He lay there laboring for breath, saying nothing. Blackwhisker and Gurutharc sat the Skyleafs at the opening of Nagrig's tent.

"Hah! All in a day's work fer Blackwhisker!" The wearet tucked his spear under one arm. He wiped his paws then put them on his hips, nodding and smiling as though congratulating himself.

"You've performed exceptionally, Blackwhisker!" Nagrig chuckled. "From first to last! I'll be sure to put in a good word about you with Dragel. If I ever need your services again, I'll know where to find you. You're dismissed! Gurutharc, Krodnal, you as well! Thank you all for your help!"

"'Twas der most tremendous honor ter werk fer der great Nagrig Deathblade!" Blackwhisker held a paw to his heart with a low bow. And with that, he turned and left. Gurutharc and Krodnal too bowed, then took off to the mess tent.

Nagrig chuckled and looked down at the pitiful squirrel beneath his feet. He dropped to a kneel in front of Jared, still mute and breathing through his nose.

"Tinar-Andelle." He perched one arm over his raised kneecap. "The deposed, self-exiled, taciturn crown prince. Heir presumptive to Maraul's throne. The prince who abandoned his homeland, his creatures, his kingdom…when they needed him the most."

Jared did not respond; only stared at the rat with narrowed, lowered eyes. A hateful glower. Zakrul sat down opposite Nagrig and helped himself to gin.

"As always, I'm earnestly disappointed in you, Tinarandel," Nagrig went on. "I had so sorely hoped we'd be able to settle this entire conflict without needless violence."

Jared protested in pain as Nagrig seized his bound wrists. "But as our…rather dramatic bout in Brockhall proved, you and the shrews aren't at all interested in settling things diplomatically. Your inclination towards aggression is, I find to be...irritatingly untameable."

He untied and removed the squirrel's gag. Jared gasped and spluttered and coughed.

"Well, Tinarandel? What do you have to say for yourself?"

"Go…" Jared seethed, still glowering. "...to…HellGates…"

"Been there, done that." Nagrig waved a nonchalant paw. He accepted a cup of gin from Zakrul and took a quick sip. "Got any original witticisms?"

When the squirrel did not answer, he scoffed. "Pathetic." Another sip of gin.

"Why do ya keep calling him that?" Evelyn dared to ask. She sat on her ankles beside her husband. "Tinarandel ain't his name!"

"Aye, he is Jared Sandeye!" Peter nodded vigorously. "Where in tarnation do you get that Tinarandel nonsense? Is your brain knocked all cattywampus?"

"Nonsense?" Nagrig turned and scowled at the two adult squirrels. "Far from it, I daresay! You know Jared and Madeline Sandeye by their birth names only. But Tinarandel and Isidith are their names in the East! Their true names!"

Peter's jaw dropped open like dead weight. Evelyn therefore took over the speaking duty. "How is that even possible? That don't make no darn sense! Why, the Sandeye's secrets are as scarce as hen's teeth!"

"Are you sure?" Nagrig raised an eyebrow at her. "I believe his ancestral bloodline would beg to differ."

"Even if you did tell them…" Jared had now pushed himself up into a sitting position. "...they wouldn't understand." He rested on his ankles.

"Understand what?" Evelyn demanded, now glaring at him. "What else are ya hiding, Jared?"

Nagrig adjusted his weight slightly. Then he leaned forward and-"Uurrgh!"-Jared growled when the rat grabbed his headfur. He wrenched the squirrel's head back.

"What else is he hiding, indeed? A father who rejected the throne because he didn't feel adequate for the monarchy. And a mother who had a throne claim through marriage but didn't wish to be separated from her kits. She could choose between being a ruler…or a mere stay-at-home parent and housewife. Yet they both would've prospered under Morringtat's rule had they taken the crown and throne."

"A throne?" repeated Evelyn.

"Morringtat?" wondered Peter.

"His grandfather-his father's father, that is-was Maraul's latest and final ruling Chieftain, Gillamin Sandeye. Which would make Jared and Madeline Sandeye…"

He stood to meet the Skyleafs' horrified eyes, and grinned from ear to ear.

"Royalty."

"Royalty?!" they both blurted out in unison.

"Yes, indeed. But that's hardly the tip of the iceberg." He dropped back down on his seat. "How about a direct descendant of Adam Corbeau? One of the Eight Kuanzai Warriors? Gillamin's forefather? A crying shame your drunken squirrel flutist ancestor wasn't there to protect Log-a-Log Tiraqoo from me." He grinned callously from ear to ear, showing his fangs. A smirk pulled at Zakrul's lips while he added ice to his gin.

"Who in the name of all of Mossflower is Adam Corbeau?" Evelyn barked. Peter said nothing but struggled against his bonds.

"He wouldn't have been afraid of you," Jared growled, still staring daggers at the rat.

"No, but I could make him so." Nagrig snarled back. "And how about Faolis Starwalker? Sister of Katheen Mrae'Elen Starwalker? Your mother's ancestor."

"Aack!" Jared cried and shivered: Nagrig had pressed his iced gin to his larynx.

"Phineas Richings descended from her ancient line. Yes, she and her sister founded that order of noble knights on which the Richings family carried."

He rubbed his gin cup back and forth across the squirrel's neck. Jared shuddered and whimpered. The rat's grip tightened on his bangs.

"Yet for all their strength," Nagrig chuckled, hard as nails. "They couldn't protect Maraul from me and my superior forces. Even your aunts and uncles did their part in the defense, and they still weren't enough."

He threw Jared down onto the ground. "Falmouth and Thaia Ironsun; and Geralt and Dahlian Havson. Yet what good did it do them? What did they leave behind except your orphaned cousins?"

"Oof!" Jared hit the ground facedown. Evelyn and Peter could only watch as Nagrig laid a footpaw on the younger squirrel's back.

"That fateful day when I came for you and your siblings, Tinarandel." Nagrig rubbed his foot along Jared's spine. He took a third sip of gin. The squirrel could only groan and bite back the pain. "Your family fought valiantly, to be sure. Do not get me wrong, their strength was to be admired. Worthy of song and legend. And yet…"

He stopped at Jared's thoracic spine. "...They fell before my greater numbers. Sure, Amida and Dane fought back as well. As any parents would and should do to protect their children. But, tragically, they ended up in much the same position as you two are now, Skyleafs."

He looked up to sneer at them. Evelyn stuck her tongue out while Peter shot him a death stare. He, unfazed, responded with a hollow chuckle.

"Yes, lined up on the shores of Maraul. On their knees, paws tied at the wrists, defenseless. And I? I felt nothing. Nothing but satisfaction. Satisfaction that triumph was nigh at paw."

The claw traced along his chin and cheekbones, up to his eye sockets. "Satisfaction that I was about to thwart the Prophecy from ever being fulfilled. Satisfaction that I was about to stamp out any and all opposition to my rule, present and future. Satisfaction that I was about to utterly crush any possibility…that Morringtat's colonization of the Islands would be undone." Jared shuddered; Nagrig traced his forehead.

"Three centuries of colonization!" He stood up and paced in a circle around Jared. "Since Razzid Wearat attacked Salamandastron and Redwall Abbey! And yet a prophecy dared to be made!"

He kicked Jared hard in the gut. Jared doubled over and instinctively curled up into a fetal position.

"A precognition foretelling the birth of individuals who would one day overthrow the enduring rule of Morringtat!" Nagrig resumed his pacing, gesturing to emphasize his words. "Three centuries of treachery, conspiracy, and so-called revolution! Spurred on by the ancestors of the Sandeyes! Yet how could they think to stand against the mythical might of Morringtat? Not even your original progenitor, Giodorr Adzi de Eolin, managed to succeed against us! Legendary knight and Maraul's first chieftain as he was! And look where that got him: exiled for his daring disloyalty! Mere commoners, impoverished peasants, and even chivalric nobles seeking to overthrow the rule of Dathremac Karthor Nallegam? I think not! I could've thwarted a centuries-long insurgency right then and there!"

"By the four seasons!" Khaimtsu came hurrying up to the campfire with Krodnal at his tail. "We actually got him!"

"Aye, we did, Khaimtsu," Nagrig chuckled, straightening up. Jared hung his head in utter silence. "But he's only one half of the siblings. Still, any progress is better than none at all."

"Oh!" Khaimtsu tapped his temples. "We'll use Tinarandel as bait to lure Isidith here! Then when she shows up to rescue him, we'll be able to trap her, too!"

"An astute observation, Khaimtsu!" Zakrul commended the weasel. "Yes, that is indeed the plan."

"Jared, how could ya?" Evelyn shouted at Jared. "Keeping secrets about yourself, your family, your bloodline! Now look at what you've gotten us in, too!"

"It's not his fault, Evelyn!" Peter reprimanded his wife. "He had no control over any of this!"

"We thought he was just some ordinary squirrel, Peter! I told you he was hiding something! A 'true name'? A murdered family? And royal ancestry? And what's all this about a prophecy?"

"That doesn't matter right now, Lyn! He needs our help!"

"What will we do about them?" Zakrul gestured to the two elder squirrels in front of Nagrig's tent.

"Victims of opportunity." Nagrig stroked his chin, thinking. "I don't want to kill them outright. Let's leave them be; I'll think of something."

He turned to his soldiers. They had all assembled at the central campfire. "Have at him!"

They tied another cloth gag around his mouth. Their sadistic, callous, mocking laughter drowned out his screams of protest, pain, and pleading. They poured entire tankards of water and grog all over his fur and clothes. They kicked and stomped and punched and slapped him from head to toes. They pulled on his tail and his headfur. He writhed and squirmed and thrashed to no avail. Dragel, Gorsespot, and Vadír forced him onto his feet to push him back and forth.

Evelyn and Peter shouted for them to stop. They fought against the ropes binding their wrists and scratching their skin. But the torture continued on and on and on.

"Redwall!"

The doors of the Great Hall burst wide open. Larina came sprinting inside at full speed.

"Larina!" Abbot Curtis turned away from the Tapestry. "What a surprise? How did it go at your parents' garden? Where is Jared-?"

"Father Abbot!" Larina could almost scarcely speak properly from sobbing. "Jared-! Deathblade-! My parents-!"

"Heavens, Larina!" Curtis gently took her by the shoulders. "Slow down, daughter. What happened?"

"Nagrig Deathblade came, that's what happened!" Tears streamed down and stained Larina's face. "He came with his lieutenants and soldiers! They attacked Jared and I, and my parents! We kept to the roads and the sun like you told us to! But they still found us! They tracked us to my parents' home! They-"

Curtis's heart sank when her eyes of abject horror met his.

"They kidnapped Jared! And my parents! They took them away!"

"Oh, no…" Curtis whispered, the gravity of the situation not lost on him. "Oh, dearest Larina…" He took the sobbing, frightened squirrelmaid into his arms. "I'm so, so, so sorry you had to go through that, dear."

"Please!" Larina screamed into Curtis' chest. "Please, they're all I have! I don't have siblings like the Sandeyes do! I-I can't lose my parents! I-I don't know what I'd do without them! Please!"

"We must save Jared an' the Skyleafs righ' away!" Almoner Mack dismounted the platform in front of the Tapestry.

"Aye, we can't afford to waste a second!" agreed Arland. "They're in the most extreme danger in Deathblade's paws!"

"My thoughts precisely." Curtis turned to nod to them. "Gather a rescue party. Madeline will want to come to her brother's aid."

"Already here, Father Abbot." Madeline came running up abreast of the harvest mouse, dressed in her Tuah Mann combat shirt and trousers. "I saw Larina coming from my balcony and got concerned when I didn't see Jared. And I brought some special things."

Larina stared at a pair of familiar wooden sticks in Madeline's paw. Leather wrapped around one end. An Eastern flag emblazoned on the other.

"You brought those, Maddie? What good are a pair of sticks going to do?"

Madeline looked almost offended and disappointed at her fellow squirrelmaid. "All due respect, Rina…These are no ordinary sticks."

"All right, that's enough!"

Nagrig pulled Arvuk and Fleaskin apart from Jared. He also removed the gag from the squirrel's mouth. Jared lay sideways on the ground, panting for breath, soaked in water and gin, bruised and exhausted.

"Leave him be now. And don't waste any more of the grog; it's expensive!"

"Aww, c'mon, it's delicious stuff!" Arvuk chugged back his wooden mug of grog. Fleaskin also left to help himself to it.

"How many mugs have you had by now, Arvuk?" Krodnal raised an eyebrow at him.

"Krodnal's right." Nagrig nodded. He snatched the mug of grog from his sable. "Go about your patrols, Arvuk." He pointed towards the northern borders of the camp. "Keep an eye out for a rescue team from Redwall. Now!"

Arvuk growled and groaned, fists clenched and eyes bulging. But he picked up a lantern and went on his way anyway. Nagrig let out a triumphant chuckle and offered the mug to Blackwhisker. The wearat gladly took it and clinked it with Krodnal's mug, and they both drank deeply.

"Rescue team from Redwall-pah! As if anybeas' would ever be stupid enough ta thin' they can break th' clutches o' th' legendary Nagrig Deathblade!"

Crack. The snapping of twigs underfoot swung him around.

Rustle. A rustle of brush made him face the opposite direction.

"Oy? Who's there? Show yerself!" His free paw flew to the hilt of his saber.

He turned to face due north for a moment-

Whack! A sudden palm slapped him hard on the left ear.

Another paw clamped his throat to paralyze his reactionary scream. It slammed into him with such force that he thought he felt his vocal cords slap against his nape.

A floating punch to his liver knocked all the air out of him. The paw around his throat relinquished to-Wham! crack his left kneecap.

Crrrack! A concluding uppercut knocked his jaws against each other. The sheer impact sent ripples throughout his body. His eyes rolled into the back of his head. He fell backwards flat onto the ground.

Madeline gazed down upon her unconscious foe. Without a word she picked up his lantern and hurried onward.

Jacob leaped out of the bushes in front of her. The arctic wolf drew his fencing sabre. Antonius and Laurel too exited the brush on either side of the wolf. Larina took up the rear.

Behind them followed a solitary figure cloaked and masked in pitch-black…

In the camp, Evelyn cried inconsolably into her husband's shoulder. Peter glared and growled bitterly, and fought against his bonds.

"Your efforts are in vain, Skyleafs!" Nagrig yelled at them. "Tinarandel and Isidith will die here and now! On this night…"

He drew his falchion and stood up, raising the blade skyward. "I shall render the Sandeye bloodline extinct!"

"Oy? What's goin' on' 'ere?"

Ember strutted into the camp from the northeastern side, with Mudclaw and Skullback abreast.

"At last, you three return!" Nagrig wiped his arm across his brow. "You can continue your leisure time. Keep an eye on Jared Sandeye, if you please."

"Well, well, well!" Ember broke into a vicious grin at the sight of the squirrel prisoner. "Nice o' ya t' join us, Jared! I suspect yar sister will be alon' as well? An' yar little girlfrien'?" He broke into helpless wild laughter. Mudclaw and Skullback laughed along with him.

"Remember, Tinarandel." Zakrul turned to him with a ruthless sneer. "You brought this on yourself."

Ember chuckled as he prepared his cot. He put his paws on his hips to admire his work. "There! Just like th' brothels back home! Right, Skullback?"

The smile slipped from his face when no reply came from his compatriot.

"Skullback?" He left his tent. "Hey, where's Skullback?" the fox asked Mudclaw, whose tent stood left of his own.

"Dunno!" the rat shrugged. "He was here a minute ago! Skullback!"

Thump! Between the tents flopped the stunned form of Skullback. Mudclaw yelped and leaped back in fright.

Out from the forest brush leapt a masked and hooded shadow. A sleek obsidian leather cape hung from its shoulders. Barely perceptible between a featureless pitch-shaded cloak and a double-breasted tunic. Beneath its hood, dark eyes glared from within an otherwise expressionless ferret-shaped mask. The shade landed on a horizontal log. It drew a pair of acute steel stiletto daggers from behind its cape. It held them out on either side of itself. Pearly moonlight reflected off the long, slender blades. Hanging moss and inert vines from the inward-curving trees formed the weeping eyes of a ferret-shaped skull.

Frozen in place, Mudclaw raised a quivering pointing finger. "Z-z-z…z-z-z…Zagreb!"

It only stared back in a deathly silence. Starlight glinted off the needlelike points of its blades.

"Zagreb?" Zakrul raised his eyebrows, impressed. "The fabled assassin of seasons past?"

"Hmph! He's a dead legend!" spouted Nagrig. "An outdated relic of seasons of old! He is of no danger to us! I'm certain he died many autumns ago!"

"Oh, he's very much alive," Jared grumbled through clenched teeth. He again knelt on his ankles.

"A hallucination of the night!" Nagrig barked back in his face. "The moon must be affecting everyone's minds, including yours. Face it, Tinarandel: nobeast is coming to save you! So save your breath and shut your mouth while you still can-!"

"Intruders!"

One of Dragel's soldiers, a black-brown fox, came sprinting into the camp. Over one shoulder he carried Arvuk's unconscious form.

"Foun' 'im in 'is patrol route, milord," he explained to Nagrig. He laid Arvuk flat on the grass. "Lantern missin', left ear flattened, throat bruised, kneecap fractured. Sumbeas' musta ambushed 'im, sir! Yar camp borders are compromised!"

"Nazithail!" Dragel hurried up to his vermin. "Whom d'ya thin' ambushed poor Arvuk-?"

Thunk! Before Nazithail could reply, a wooden stick swung into his right temple. The blow knocked him sideways and dazed to the ground. Dragel and Nagrig looked up: out of the night stepped none other than Larina.

"I didn't ambush Arvuk, or whatever you call him." Larina spun her walking stick and assumed a fighting pose. She faced the vermin side-on, one leg pulled back, and the walking stick at an upwards angle. "But I'm fit to be tied and fixing to tear up y'all evil vermin here!"

The two villains only gaped at her for a long moment, dumbfounded.

Larina groaned and rolled her eyes. "I mean I'm angry and about to screw up your lives if you don't give me back Jared and my parents!"

"Ah, that makes sense." Nagrig nodded. "Well, you've stepped right into the danger zone, Larina Skyleaf! There's no going back from here!"

"Wanna bet?! Now!"

Battle cries filled the air. Beasts leaped into the light.

Madeline's falling kick slammed Mudclaw in the cranium. Jacob seized a fleeing Baric and held his dagger to the rat's throat.

Antonius hit Fleaskin in the skull with his Najijiat hilt. Laurel tackled Khaimtsu and forced him into a tight headlock.

Larina ducked beneath Dragel's attempt to grab her. She leaped backwards onto a stump and then upwards into the low branches of a tree. Then she jumped from tree to tree into the camp proper.

"Zagreb" bolted into the fray. Faster than an arrow shot from a bowstring. He threw his cloak upon the low branches of a tree. Adhuxnuo and Darksnout tried to grab him in tandem. But he sidestepped and zigzagged around them both. He waved his cape in Ripspit's face, before tripping and slamming him into the ground. He ducked Stumpback's swinging cutlass. Whump! Two straight unison hits from the pommels of his stilettos to the vermin's stomach knocked him breathless. All of this without saying a word.

It took upwards of ten seconds for Nagrig to process everything that had happened. Then he patted Dragel on the shoulder to turn him around. Dragel picked up the fallen Arvuk to take him to his tent.

"Larina!" Smackpaw waved from one of the armory tents.

"Smackpaw?!" Larina stopped in her tracks. She hurried up to the armored weasel. "Thank the seasons you're all right! Have you seen my parents? Where did Deathblade's vermin take them?"

"Wot in HellGates are ya doin' 'ere, Larina?" Smackpaw asked in disbelief. "Getcha parents an' get outta 'ere!"

"I can do both, Smackpaw!" Larina planted her walking stick on the ground. "Rescue both my parents, you, and everyone else!"

"Larina, it t'ain't safe!" Wuuzir cut her off, practically pleading. "Ya need t' leave now!"

"Not without you, Wuuzir!" Larina stamped her stick in the dirt. "Or anybeast else! Where's Mallgumm Wegendell? And Elrion Hackadale? And Saltface?"

"It's ova fer us, Rina!" Clyde appeared beside Smackpaw. "There's nuthin' ya can do t' free us from Deathblade's bondage! Go!"

"Anybeast who aids and abets these insurrectionists shall starve tonight!" Nagrig's roar drowned out all other sounds in the Skeleton Rocks.

"Anybeast who sets free the prisoners shall be dehydrated!" Zakrul stated further.

"Dat way, Rina!" Delnok Rottail pointed Larina towards the southeast. She dashed off that way.

"Off! Gerroff!" Baric drove his elbows into Jacob's gut. The wolf sucked in his stomach to avoid the air being knocked out of him. Baric took advantage of the wolf's faltering to push his dagger. away. He drew his own sword and stood up.

"Huh, so it's like that, is it?" Jacob snorted. He exchanged his dagger for his fencing sabre. "En garde!" The two engaged in a bout of blades. Metal against metal filled the air.

"Mama! Daddy!" Larina breathed a sigh of relief upon reaching her parents. She put down her walking stick and untied their paws.

"Let's get out while we can!" Peter took his wife's paw and they hurried through the camp, Larina at their heels.

"We can't leave without Jared!" Larina stopped in the dead center.

A pair of paws caught her by the waist and chest, respectively. They pulled her behind the flaps of a tent and threw her to the ground.

Ember leaned over Larina, grinning. "Nice o' ya t' join us, Miss Skyleaf. Interested in being the first member of our little makeshift camp harem?"

"I won't agree to an interview, if that's what you're asking." Larina scowled back at the fox.

"Really?" Ember licked his lips. "We'll arrange one anyway!"

She screamed when he ripped the flower from her headfur. He threw it upon the ground and stomped on it.

"Now, then. Ya're gonna do everythin' I tell ya t' do. Or that pretty little face o' yars gets broken. Got it? Off wit' the sundress! All th' way down t' yar underwear!"

"I'll do nothing of the sort!" Larina spat in his face. "I'm not that kind of maiden!"

"Not t' worry." The ear-to-ear grin did not leave Ember's face. "Yar education starts now! I'll whip ya inta shape!"

"No!" Larina pleaded. But Ember grabbed the collar of her sundress and ripped it asunder. He pulled the hem upwards over her stomach, licking and smacking his lips.

"Rina!" "Let her go!" Evelyn and Peter rushed to stop Ember. But Blackwhisker and a pine marten forced them both to their knees.

"Oy, Ember!" The marten called to the fox. "I want 'er when ya're done!"

"Don't worry, Argthowe, I won't take too lon' wit' her!" Ember drooled as he laid his paws on Larina. "Ya're mine, squirrelmaid!"

Larina shut her eyes tight. Ember's paws coursed all over her. Every touch from him elicited a shudder and a whimper of fear. Tracing the shapes of her covered bust and the outline of her crotch. Over her chest and midriff and then back up again. Reaching around to feel the shape of her rear. She wriggled and squirmed and fidgeted, but he held her still. Every attempt to resist only drew out a moan of pleasure or a heartless chuckle.

"Isidith!" Zakrul noticed Madeline had landed in front of the senseless Mudclaw. "Your timing couldn't have been more impeccable! We'll make this really simple for your teenage mind to understand. Surrender yourself to us…"

"Grrrgh!" Jared grunted and groaned: Zakrul seized him by the scalp and wrenched his head back.

"...or Tinarandel dies!" He pointed the tip of his dagger at the Sandeye brother's neck.

"Don't give in, Isidith!" Jared begged his sister.

"Time grows short, Isidith!" Nagrig demanded. He held Jared by one shoulder, his dagger in the other. "We'd like our armies to be back on our ships and sailing for home before sunrise! Now choose! Vadír! We've got somebeast for you to execute!" He called over his shoulder.

"About bloody time!" The wildcat approached and unsheathed his axe from his back. Jared shuddered from the cold metal blade pressed to his nape.

Madeline shrieked before she could reply. A pair of arms snatched and wrapped around her.

"I suggest ya take their offer," Dragel whispered in Madeline's ear. "Ya an' I 'ave unfinished business." His paws traveled all over her, feeling her up.

"You want him?" Nagrig inched Jared's nape closer to Vadír's axehead. "Come get him!"

Dragel forced the screaming Madeline onto her stomach. He climbed on top to put a paw over her mouth. The wooden sticks flopped down in front of her.

"Aauugh!" Jacob dropped to his knees, cradling his wrist. Baric had struck hard and disarmed him. The rat kicked the wolf onto his side, planting his boot on the canine's chest.

Adhuxnuo and Darksnout clenched and twisted "Zagreb's" arms. The assassin yelled and dropped his daggers. Ripspit's hard punch to the stomach forced him onto his paws and knees. The wearet kicked his stilettos out of reach into the dirt.

Krodnal ripped Laurel free of Khaimtsu. They both held a dagger each at her neck. The recovering Stumpback and Fleaskin pinned Antonius against a tree trunk; Gurutharc held the shrew at bladepoint. At this point, Nazithail stumbled into view, growling and holding his head. Arvuk stirred from his tent, groaning, but did not move. Mudclaw likewise whimpered and climbed onto his paws and feet.

Jared shut his eyes to focus his hearing. Larina screamed and her parents begged. Madeline protested behind Dragel's palm. Jacob choked and coughed under Baric's boot. Stumpback and Fleaskin slapped Antonius in turn. Laurel pleaded for mercy from Khaimtsu and Krodnal. Darksnout, Adhuxnuo, and Ripsit all kicked "Zagreb".

And the ice-cold metal axe pressed against the edge of his nape. Zakrul's dagger tip brushed against his larynx. Shinnng! Nagrig had drawn his falchion. He shuddered: the blade pressed its sharp point against his stomach.

Upon the shores of Maraul, Amida fell dead onto her stomach. Nagrig withdrew his falchion stained with her blood. Dane bawled for his wife. Nagrig running through his gut silenced him.

He fainted dead beside his wife.

Deep in Mossflower, Edoran bled from multiple wounds. Slashes and stabs and slits. He took his younger brother's paw in his own. His eyes were already misting over. He whispered some final words.

Then his paw slipped and sank to the ground.

I couldn't save Mom and Dad…

I couldn't save Edoran…

I can't save Isidith…

I can't save my friends…

I can't save myself…

I promised…

I promised!

To protect her!

To avenge them!

To fulfill the Prophecy!

I can't die here…

Not after I kill them for what they did to my parents…

To Edoran…

To so many others like them…

I'll kill them.

I'LL KILL THEM!

"I'LL KILL YOU ALL!"

His eyes snapped wide open.

"Rrraaaaaaaaaaaaaaaggghhh!"

He swatted Nagrig's and Zakrul's blades aside. Threw out a leg to trip Vadír. Turned and split his bonds on the falling axe. Then smacked the cat with the flat of his own weapon.

He roared and charged forward. Snatched up the wooden sticks from the ground. Flipped to grip them by the leather side. Dragel stood to dual-wield his knife and dagger-

Whack! Jared delivered a forepaw strike from the sable's shoulder to his hip. Dragel shrugged off the pain.

He jabbed at the squirrel's stomach. Jared sidestepped; Dragel's jewel-encrusted knife stabbed empty air.

Jared slapped it down with one stick. The other smacked Dragel in the neck.

The sable had no time to react. Jared grabbed his exposed horizontal arm from underneath. Spun and threw him to the ground. Whack! A disabling blow to the occipital bone.

Fleaskin and Stumpback charged him with raised swords. But Jared darted in between them lightning-fast.

He clenched Gurutharc's sword betwixt his sticks and tossed it aside. Two brutal smacks to the Lieutenant's forehead took him out of the action.

He kicked Fleaskin aside in the stomach. In time to block a backpaw strike from Stumpback. In one movement he threw up an inside block and pulled the vermin to his knees.

"Hrah!" Two furious hits to the shoulder blades. "Hrah!" One after another. Stumpback wailed and dropped his sword.

He ducked under Fleaskin's sword. Brought his right stick into the rat's face.

Crrraaack! The blow shattered the vermin's nose. Fresh blood spurted and dripped onto the stick.

He slammed his left stick into the vermin's mouth for good measure. Fleaskin spat blood from cracked fangs and bruised gums.

"Somebeast stop him!" Nagrig pointed his falchion at the squirrel. "Disarm him!"

"Be careful!" Zakrul advised. "Don't let him get you!" He moved to help Dragel's incapacitated soldiers.

Jared assaulted every vermin in sight. Striking with forepaw and backpaw and circling continuous downward-striking techniques. Slapping and beating and jabbing. Every vermin used their own methods to stop him. But he darted beside and around them all. Flipped over their heads or slid beneath their legs. All while bellowing and shouting and raging with bloodthirst, fury, and unleashed rage.

Baric slumped onto his side holding his aching ears and scalp. Ripspit wept from fractured cheekbones. Darksnout lay against a tree struggling to breathe from cracked ribs. All three bloodied and wheezing.

Both Khaimtsu and Krodnal suffered stabs to their pressure points. The sticks debilitated their necks and chests. They lay immobilized beside each other.

Adhuxnuo countered with Nata Shundua Uft grabs and grapples. But Jared evaded every single one.

The pine marten helmsbeast gasped, yelped, and cried out from each thwack! from the sticks. Every simulated stab and slash and slit.

The same wounds I gave Edoran-He did not complete the thought before Jared deadened his senses.

He forced Nazithail to his knees by attacking his kneecaps. The fox gagged against the thick stick pressing into his neck.

Strikes to the head. Shoulders. Chest. Spine. Torso. Stomach. The crying Terramort fox sagged like dead weight into the dirt.

Evelyn and Peter watched in horror and awe. Jared slapped Blackwhisker's spear out of his paws. Then upside the chin to throw him onto his back.

Argthowe dodged the falling wearat and lunged at Jared, claws bared.

WHAM! "Ooooooooh!"

He doubled over holding his crotch. Jared had struck him in his extremities.

"Aaahhh! No! Lemme alone!"

But Jared pummeled the pine marten with rhythmic rappings to the face and neck and collarbone. Only stopping to trip and stomp on an aiding Mudclaw's diaphragm. Kick and slam Skullback on top of him.

Argthowe winced and cringed and sobbed from the repeated crackings in his arm and elbow bones. Blood jetted from his nose, mouth, and eyes onto the sticks. Every hit beat his head into the ground. His brain knocked against his skull like an arrhythmic drumbeat.

And Jared never stopped shouting. The squirrel's blood-scented breath suffocated him. He wept from the squirrel's voice stabbing through his already throbbing eardrums.

Evelyn and Peter backed up against Ember's tent. They looked on as Jared continued to torture their former torturer.

"Stop fightin' back, ya selfish cur!" Gorsespot stormed him with a dagger. Whump! Two unison slaps to the temples from the wordless squirrel stopped him short.

Ember turned and got to his feet. He had shed his belt and trousers, and now wore only his underwear and tunic. Larina propped herself up one on elbow, her other arm covering her top and chest.

Jared stood there at the tent entrance in a wide stance. Sticks soaked and dripping with the blood of Ember's fellow vermin. Eyebrows and gaze lowered. Eyes squinted. Jaw clenched. Sweating in the moon and starlight.

Ember put up his fists to imitate a guard. Elbows far out from the body. Ribs exposed. He snapped into a side-on stance.

Jared leaped in. Ember flinched.

He's comin' at me. He's comin' at me mad! He's comin' at me with sticks!

"Take this!" He wound up a hook punch. Threw it in a heavy swing. Jared dodged to his left. Ember stumbled forward. Jared took the open split-second envelope. He delivered the fox a disciplinary whack to the cranium.

A swift arcing kick threw his former stance into oblivion. Legs and rear flew into the air for a few fleeting seconds. He hit the tent floor on his cervical spine.

"No! No, please! I beg ye!" His face turned chalk-white. He waved his paws to plead. He kicked at the incoming squirrel. But Jared did not waste a second.

"Mercy, Prince! Mercy!"

"What about Larina?! Did you give her mercy?!"

Blow to the left side of the head!

Blow to the right side!

Blow to the left of the torso!

Blow to the right!

Thrust to the stomach!

Stab to the left pectoral!

Stab to the right pectoral!

Beat to the left lower leg!

Beat to the right lower leg!

Stab to the left eye!

Stab to the right!

Final strike to the crown of the head!

Ember crumpled, broken, beaten, bleeding out. Gasping for breath. Whining and sniveling. Paws to his eyes. Entire body twitching and trembling.

Finally, Jared climbed back up. The infirm fox's blood coated his sticks. He tucked them under his arm. Then he moved to reach out a paw to Larina. She took it without a second of hesitation.

"Did he get your clothes off?" he asked, and Larina caught herself surprised at his genuine empathy.

She shook her head. "No. He didn't remove any of my underwear. Ruined my favorite dress, though. Oh, no…" She bent down to pick up the crushed and frayed peony that Ember had stomped on. With a hopeless sigh, she closed her paw and held it to her heart.

"Don't worry." He turned and took her paw to lead the way out of the tent. "I'm sure Mack can sew up your dress as good as new. As for the flower, well, you'll have to talk to your parents about that."

"Jared…" She stopped him as soon as they got outside. She glanced from the sticks, to him, and back again. "What…style of Wungkan…was that?" Jared bit his lip. But he would not reply.

"Larina!" "Darling!" Her parents took her into their arms in an instant.

"I'm all right!" She hugged them both at the same time. "I'm not hurt! I'll be okay!"

Jared helped and hugged his sister tighter than he'd ever hugged her before. "I'm so sorry, Isidith. I'm so sorry for everything."

"You did what you had to do, Tinarandel. I knew you would have no other choice. That's why I brought your sticks."

They gathered Antonius, Laurel, and Jacob. "Zagreb" helped himself up. Smackpaw fetched the assassin's cloak for him.

"Hurry!" Jared led the way out of the Skeleton Rocks. "We've gotta get out of here! Get back to Redwall Abbey!"

"After them!" Nagrig pointed with his falchion. "Do with the others as you wish! But don't let the Sandeyes get away!"