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The damp leaves on the forest floor squished softly under his paw as Seabane quickly snaked his way through the woods. He was careful to remember his path back suppose he became lost. The forest around him was a strange sort of quiet as if everything was holding its breath. It was the late afternoon and there was still daylight left, but the clouds and the spindly limbs of the trees around him darkened the forest floor below. His fur stood on the back of his neck, Seabane was wary of what he would find when he arrived at the source of the smoke. The howling cries of the woodlanders hunting for Sathe just nights ago still echoed in his ears. He wasn't sure how they had been able to flee. It had seemed as though woodlanders had been on top of the deserters. He continued moving towards the smoke, wary of the shadows and movement in the trees. His superstition and caution had kept him alive until this point, no need to lower his guard now. Even when the prospect of warmth, shelter, and vittles presented itself.
Seabane remembered surviving an ambush in only his first few months of being a member of Zidar's horde. He was walking along with half a score of other vermin through the forest. It was summer and there was much more shrubbery present. The patchworks of shadows from the trees above rained down on the dirt path Seabane and the other vermin were traveling on. The vermin were to attack a small settlement of squirrels who had been a nuisance to the then less infamous vermin horde. It was his first raid since he joined the horde and although skeptical at first the confidence of his vermin companions eased any fears Seabane once had. They had made it to where a great cluster of oaks sandwiched their path. Seabane had thought he saw something duck out of the shadows. He stopped walking staring in confusion. Things didn't just vanish on the deck of a ship, did they in the forest? He paused just long enough for another vermin; a rat named Fleabreath to pass him. As the rat turned to curse Seabane for getting in his way, an arrow found its way to his throat. Suddenly the world around Seabane came crashing down. The squirrels and their javelins, arrows, and stones came flying from the trees and impacted the vermin below with devastating effect. All but Seabane and one other vermin weren't killed in the initial attack. Hacking and slashing Seabane made it free from the surrounding attackers and raced as fast as he could back to the horde. The only reason Seabane had made it out alive was that he could outrun the poor ferret who was struck in the leg by a javelin. Seabane wasn't left unscathed from the battle. He had broken his arm from a stone that had found its mark. Luckily for him, it wasn't his sword arm. He also received quite a few cuts and scrapes which wouldn't lead to anything more permanent than a scar, of which he already had many. It was Seabane's first taste of what his life was to become.
Hardly making a sound and blending into the dead leaves underfoot Muckfur traversed the forest like a shadow on a moonless night. Seabane was far out of sight of the rest of the vermin when Muckfur caught up with him. He could see that Muckfur was as eager to find the source of the smoke as he was. "There be a light in the clearing ahead." That was all the weasel said before slowing his racing pace to a brisk, yet quiet walk. As the two vermin slowly approached the trees at the edge of the clearing Seabane could see the light as well. It was muffled as though it were behind a dirty sheet of glass, and he could smell the aroma of freshly baked bread among other scents which made his mouth water.
The two vermin reached the edge of the clearing and quickly identified the source of the smoke. It was a sturdy two-floor wood cottage. A stone chimney snaked up the side of the cottage to the slanted thatched roof where smoke lazily poured out the top. Firewood was stacked next to the chimney, enough to last a whole winter. There was also a window on that side of the house which was slightly ajar releasing steam from what one could only assume to be the kitchen due to the mouthwatering aromas coming from it. They could hear a multitude of voices but couldn't determine what kind of beast was making them. Silently the two vermin moved around the perimeter of the clearing.
Seabane could see that the cottage was well built. The main foundation of the house was constructed from the same stone as the chimney. The cottage's exterior was made of planks of wood from the various trees surrounding the clearing. The main door was smaller than he expected but was made from sturdy oak. It was painted a bright red and had a brass knocker in the center. On the opposite side of the house was a trail that led from a heavily traveled road to the cottage. There was also a small creek that wound its way to within a stone's throw of the cottage with a footbridge spanning it when it intersected the road. Taking a few steps onto the well-worn dirt road they could see that the path intersected another road where there was a signpost pointing in all different directions. Between the creek and the cottage, there was a fenced-off empty garden and a small, locked shed that Seabane believed held simple farming tools. Besides the shed was a pull wagon, large enough to carry two fully grown otters if they were sitting side to side. Seabane guessed whoever lived here worked in the fields somewhere nearby. There was also a door that led directly to the kitchen from the garden. There were rafters and shutters on all sides of the cottage that could be opened or closed to keep the heat in or let it out.
Seabane couldn't believe his luck, the cottage was perfect for the vermin. It wasn't a stone castle, and they might be living on top of one another, but it was far better than the way they've been living since they've deserted. By all means, it was better than the tents they were living in with the horde! Seabane guessed that whoever lived in the cottage must have plenty of food. He and Muckfur had been drooling when they drew close to the open window. The growling of their stomachs had been enough for the two vermin to charge headfirst into the house and lay waste to its inhabitants regardless of the dangers that lay inside.
By the time the two vermin completed their scouting around the perimeter Muckfur's hunger had gotten the best of him. "I can feel my stomach eatin' itself why can't we just take some vittles for the trip back." Muckfur wanted to attack the cottage before getting the rest of the deserters. Seabane disagreed.
"We don't know who's living in the cottage. Don't be stupid an rush in with just me to save ye." Seabane told Muckfur who was stepping out from the protection of the trees on the edge of the clearing. "Yar! Who do ye think could build a home like that? Certainly no vermin. Probably a couple of ole badgers or a family of puffed-up hares!"
"If there's a badger or hare in there, I'm sure he wouldn't want to give some of 'is vittles to a bunch of starving vermin. Most of which wouldn't hesitate to slay him while he slept!" Retorted Muckfur his dirk already pulled free. Although the weasel had stopped moving towards the cottage, he was clear of the cover of the woods. Any creature could see the two vermin from the window if they knew where to look. "Vermin wouldn't care to share with their kind if they don't know ye, much less half a score that just showed up at their door. Yer just asking for trouble if we don't kill whatever beasts live in there." Muckfur snarled at Seabane, a wild look in his eyes.
Something in Seabane knew deeply that Muckfur was right, but he didn't want to believe it. The chances to find vermin or woodlanders who would give up all they had without a fight was slim to none, even if half a score of starving horde beasts showed up at their door. It was a death sentence for the residents either way. Starve or fight to the death, most would choose to go out fighting. Seabane knew that Muckfur along with all the other deserters wanted to be out of the cold and have vittles in their stomachs. But Seabane also knew that was a nearsighted decision. He was reminded of an adage he learned when he was on The Damnation. 'Give a rat a fish and you will feed him for a day, force an otter to fish and you will be fed for a lifetime.'
Seabane didn't want to attract attention and killing whoever lived in the clearing would certainly draw unneeded ire. But Seabane had the inkling of a plan that would provide for his fellow vermin and garner less attention than killing woodlanders. Albeit it wouldn't be easy.
"Naw, come back. We need the rest of the lot here with us before we can make our move."
"They'll see us coming through the forest and will hear us if Silvertoungs kits start wail'n. By the time we get back whoever lives in there, will 'ave turned the house into a fort!"
"But they won't attack us if we make ourselves look like less than we actually are." Seabane smiled coolly. He knew how he could get the vittles and supplies they needed. If he could only get the fools he was surrounded with to trust him. "Go back to the others and bring them here quietly. We don't need whoever's inside to know where we are. I'll finish my plan while yer gone." To Seabanes surprise Muckfur sheathed his dirk and did what he was told with no further complaint.
"What'ya mean we can't just storm the house; the vittles are begging to be eaten!" Seabane turned almost drawing his cutlass, surprised by the sudden noise behind him. Crooksnout was almost shouting, his mate had to pinch his ear to quiet him down lest they lose the element of surprise that they desperately needed. He winced in pain and then slapped his mate's claw away from his ear which earned him a withering glare. "I don't care whose home it is I can't spend another night in this cold!" Crooksnout continued with a lowered voice to avoid his mate's wrath. His crooked muzzle was a whiskers length from Seabane.
Seabane stared towards the clearing, he could see the fogged window of the cottage through the low-hanging branches. After scouting around the perimeter of the cottage and checking the nearby roads once more Seabane retreated farther into the forest and concocted a plan. The vermin were further back from the clearing out of direct sight of the house, but Seabane still worried about fools like Crooksnout who couldn't keep his mouth shut. "We don't know who's inside and rushing in-" Seabane was cut off. "Who cares what's inside!" Crooksnout roared, rushing around to meet Seabanes eyes. "We were promised food an shelter once we were south and here we are with the best chance we've had since we left the horde!" Spittle flew from his mouth as he spoke. "Silvertoung can't go any further and my kits are starting to come down with a cold! Everybeast here hasn't had a proper meal in over a fortnight, and we don't have any shelter or clothing to survive the snow when it comes!" Bellowed Crooksnout. His hot and heavy breaths came out in puffs of greyish-white smoke. Seabane had finally had enough and cuffed Crooksnout hard enough to knock him to his rear. He lept on top of him and held the weasel's mouth shut. "Shut your trap, yew stupid oaf! Don't you think it would be smart to not let them know where we are!" Crooksnout couldn't meet his gaze. Seabane kept his grip on the weasel and turned to the other vermin. He tried to sound benevolent, but his hushed voice was thick with anger.
"Don't you think I don't know all of that! We're not leaving here without vittles! How we get them is the question you fools are too stupid to stop and ask! We're too weak and tired to storm the cottage and if there's a badger inside then he'll be having vermin stew for the rest of the winter!" The thought of a badger seemed to scare a few of them, namely Herrik and Crooksnout, who had recovered some of his senses when Seabane struck him.
"Then send Marrow in, he can deal with any woodlander!" Said Ruddy. His eyes shone ready to fight but he looked haggard. His orange fur had lost its luster and seemed to hang to him.
"No, not unless he wants to die, and I don't want to have a furious badger hunting us." Seabane said looking at Marrow. The rat's red eyes stared the fox into submission.
"An what if there isn't a badger an just an old shrew? Would we have risked freezing to death for nothing?" Asked Silvertoung, she was more emaciated than the rest of them and her eyes begged for help. Seabane could understand her mate's urgency.
"That's what my plan intends to find out," Seabane said with confidence, finally releasing his hold on Crooksnout. "We know that whoever lives inside is most likely a woodlander by the size and make of the cottage. From the voices, Muckfur and I heard there are plenty of beasts dwelling in it. If we were to peek in the window and see who's there, they might see us and attack. If we barge in, they will attack us, and we run the risk of getting slaughtered." Seabane could see looks of understanding among the assembled vermin. If outright attacking wouldn't work then what would? Now came the part Seabane knew they wouldn't want to hear. "Aye, the best thing we can do is just knock and see if they have vittles and supplies they could spare." The deserters were quick to voice their displeasure.
"We're starving and without a horde because of these woodlanders and now you want us to beg them for help!" Cried Crooksnout almost in Seabanes face once more. "We were horde beasts and now yer saying we're just gonna ask for help like lost babes!" Spat Sathe, her pride having been pierced by an arrow from such an idea. "Never! I'll slay all tha woodlanders myself before I beg them for anything!" Snarled Ruddy who looked at Seabane with a mixture of anger and pain. Even Herrik who had remained quiet for much of the journey was shaking his head in disagreement and madly repeating "No". Seabane struggled to quiet down the vermin who were ignoring him in their furious frenzy. He was sure whoever was in the cottage could hear them by now. Thankfully Marrow stepped in and silenced the vermin by slamming his hammer into the ground with a resounding thud. The trees around them shook with the force of the impact.
The following silence was broken by a sniffle from little Twinetail who was hiding behind his mother's torn green skirt. Muckfur haughtily chimed in. "We're slowly starving and freezing to death because you promised us a better life in the Southlands. Now you're telling us to beg for help from the same beasts that want us dead! I'm starting to believe that yer pre-mo-nitions are proof that you're a mad old searat!" Seabane glared at Muckfur. He was certain the weasel had told some lie about the cottage to the deserters. Leave it to him to twist Seabane's intentions and pit all the vermin against him. Seabane should have gone back to the deserters with him and explained everything there not a stone's throw from the cottage.
Seabanes lack of answer emboldened the weasel, and he continued all the while smirking at the searat. "Now if I were the lot of you, I would have already taken the cottage, an we'd be inside cozying up for the winter. But instead, we's listening to an old searat wanting us to beg the woodlanders for help! Bah! What a disgrace! We're wasting our time outside when we don't have a fire and the night is almost here." Muckfur was treading into dangerous waters, yet he continued. "The cottage has plenty of space for all of us and plenty 'o vittles as well. There's enough firewood that we'd never need to go out during the snowiest parts of the winter and there's a garden and a creek where we can gather food and water when spring comes." Muckfur continued to the amazed eyes of the other vermin. "There's even a road and a bridge where we can raid unsuspecting travelers for their goods. We could start our lives over here!" That got a shout of triumph from a few of the travel-weary deserters.
Muckfur continued. "But Seabane doesn't even trust me, the most elusive vermin in the horde, to peek in the windows of the stupid woodlander's cottage and see what's inside. He's a coward to do so in my opinion! He doesn't think that we're capable enough to slay whatever beasts inside! A mad fool is what 'e is!" Seabane was having trouble controlling his anger and was just about to unsheathe his blade to silence Muckfur once and for all when he remembered something crucial.
Seabane relaxed and smiled to Muckfur's surprise. "Why Muckfur me matey. Why should I have any trust in you after what happened with Scabpatch?" Muckfur's eyes burned dark with hate and his face turned into a snarl. Seabane could see the confusion in all the other vermin save Sathe whose eyes widened.
"What's Scabbpatch?" Asked Ruddy.
"He was a fool! A bottom-dwelling rat like Seabane! A scum-brained idiot whose stupid choices-" Muckfur stopped himself before he could say anymore. Seabane continued for him.
"That's a wonderful question Bloodclaw." Seabane began sweetly. "Scabbpatch was one of Zidar's officers. He was a searat like myself and as Sathe and I could tell you he was one of the better officers in the horde." Sathe continued for Seabane. "He was one of Zidar's best hordebeasts and was appointed to The Claws, a group of the hordes finest warriors personally selected by the Mauler himself." Seabane could see that Sathe knew the story he was about to tell and was enjoying seeing Muckfur squirm. "He was different than officers like Bileguts in that he wasn't a fool. He once slew almost four score of the guosim shrews on the shores of the Broadstream." He received a gasp of amazement from the vermin save Muckfur. "Scabbpatch commandeered one of the logboats with their chief's mate tied up inside. When the shrews all gave chase, he had his troops lying in wait on the cliffsides of the river where it bottlenecked. Once he made it through the bottleneck his vermin dropped stones and arrows on the heads of the shrews. Those that weren't killed immediately drowned or were slain when they washed up on the shore. He returned to the shrew's camp and slew the rest and didn't lose a single of the vermin under his command while he was at it." Ruddy stared at him mouth agape. Seabane felt like he was in front of the fire at the horde, he held everybeasts undivided attention in his claw and it felt wonderful.
"But what happened to him?" Ruddy desperately asked.
Seabane sighed. "Alas, even Scabbpatch wasn't invincible. One fateful day he and his vermin were tasked with taking control of a bluff to the southwest. There was a single small cabin at the top. Before they could control the hill Scabbpatch needed to control the cabin. He sent ol' Muckfur to snoop on the cabin and see who inhabited it, a wise decision that would turn out to be his undoing." Seabane held the vermin in his claws like wet clay. He could see Muckfur seething and Sathe smiling wildly under her hood. "When Muckfur had finished his scouting, he had reported seeing only an otter a squirrel, and a few mice. What he forgot to notice was half a score of Long Patrol hares and the Badgerlord of Salamandraston who were sleeping in the basement of the cabin. Some will say that Muckfur wanted to see Scabbpatch fall, others will argue it was an honest mistake. But it was a mistake that cost the lives of all but a handful of Scabbpatch's troops."
Muckfur could be quiet no longer. "Liar!" He shouted at Seabane before being hushed by the surrounding vermin. "I told that idiot exactly what I saw! It was his fault that we waited until after dark to attack, we could have taken the cabin then we wouldn't have fought with that stripedog and his long-eared monsters." Muckfur was furious at an attack on his honest character, of which there was very little.
"Whatever the case, all but three of Scabbpatch's beasts made it back to the horde alive." He looked at Ruddy. It was apparent that the fox had never heard this story, as was the same with Crooksnout and Silvertoung.
"We were close to the badger's mountain, Salamandraston! He could have come from anywhere! But what does that have to do with the cottage in the clearing?" Muckfur tried pleading his case. Seabane relished seeing him squirm. It didn't matter if whoever in the cottage could see or hear them, Seabane would make a fool of the weasel.
"Now I am not blaming you for what happened mate." Seabane grinned wickedly, he was coming to the most important point. "I trust that you are the best sleuth and do have the keenest eyes, but you would agree that you were in dangerous territory being so close to Salamandraston?" Muckfur nodded his head vigorously. "Yes, there were woodlanders crawling out from every hole in the ground. But was my skill that brought us there safely!"
"Of course, the lands surrounding that mountain are not friendly to us vermin. But there lies the problem we are currently having mate. If you hadn't noticed there was a sign down the road from that bridge ye were talking about raiding from. A sign that doesn't point us to Salamandraston but one that points to somewhere just a bad, Redwall!" The vermin that had sucked in their breath let out a gasp of astonished fear.
Redwall wasn't as bad as Salamandraston by any means, but it wasn't any better for the deserters either. The stories of countless fearsome warlords and massive hordes finding their untimely end at the abbey were as widespread amongst the vermin as it was with the woodlanders. There was something about the abbey that gave the simple woodlanders the great strength, cunning, courage, and luck to have them defeat so many of the vermin's ancestors as easily as they did. Whether it was the flaming sword of the mouse warrior Martin. Or, as it was rumored, the abbey's walls were cursed. Colored from the blood of the vermin who had dared threaten her gates. Redwall was a death sentence for either the bravest or the maddest of vermin.
"If we attack that cottage" Seabane continued, now taking a commanding tone. "Then we risk running into a mad badger or some other woodlander. But even worse would be having the beasts of that bloody abbey hunting us to the end of our days!" Muckfur had gone silent, and fear was on the faces of the other vermin. "They won't attack us if we don't attack them which is why we need to ask them for help." Seabane spat. "It's disgusting but it's the only way I know we can survive the winter." It was difficult for Seabane to say this and his words hung in the air. Seabane hated asking for help from the woodlanders and he knew that it would be as difficult for the others to stoop to that level. But if they wanted to survive, they didn't have much of a choice.
"I have a plan, but I need all ye to follow my lead and do what I tell ye ta do. Lest you want a sword in yer belly or an arrow in yar eye." The vermin sullenly nodded. The greatest offense to vermin was an attack on one's pride and they were going to do just that to themselves.
"But what if they attack us?" Asked Ruddy.
Ruddy's question scared Seabane as most likely death would find them either way. "Then we slay them, take what we can, and run far from here." Seabanes face was hard against the darkening sky.