The battle was not in the Long Patrol's favour. The vermin band outnumbered them almost three to one, and some had tried to circle around the tent and hit them in the rear. Lugger was rolling on the ground, two weasels and the ferretmaid were stabbing him with little knives. Cornelius Tufthurry was duelling three at once. Threeclaw and Fleetfoot were at the center of it, their steel ringing as it met time and time again. The hare had discarded his halberd in favour of a cutlass, and he swung it so quickly that it seemed he had four blades in paw instead of one. Threeclaw was slower, but with two blades he was easily able to keep up with the hare's furious blows.
Deathglare undid the final knot, Gulash lingering impatiently outside of the tent. Momchillo struck fast, headbutting the pine marten with vicious savagery. Taken by surprise the marten stumbled backwards, and before he could make a noise the mouse and Tibbers and Jack-is-Lucky pounced on him, fists raised and brought them down in quick succession.
Matiya sliced the rope off of him, the other young ones were quick to follow his example. Momchillo held a paw for silence, and in a furious whisper spoke.
"If we all rush out that way, we can make for the woods. Then we rush for Redwall. Jack, can you help Tibbers?"
The hare nodded and picked up the shrew, hoisting him up to his shoulders.
"Right. On three. Two-"
"Wait! What about Fret?" Matiya whispered suddenly.
"What about him? He tried to kill me!" Momchillo whispered back. "Anyhow who cares. Let's go home, the other vermin will look after him."
Matiya looked around at the faces. Grollo, Roseheart and Hawthorn looked like they shared the same sentiment. Jack and Tibbers were irresolute.
"You said anyone's worth risking your life for!" He hissed.
"Well..." He looked sheepish.
Matiya felt defeated. But guilt pressed him further. "Do you hate him?" He whispered at them. "I mean..." The looks on their faces were that of anger. "Before all this..."
"Fret just sold us to slavery."
Words were not Matiya's strong point. A warrior, a true warrior would have been able to convey his meaning to them. That he felt guilty of Fret's predicament. 'Liar! Liar liar liar liar!' "Well... We were never really nice to him."
"Nice? What do you mean we weren't nice to him?"
I didn't understand him either, only that something rubbed him the wrong way. "We called him vermin." Matiya refused to look any of them in the eye.
"This isn't all about the bally soup, is it?" Jack sounded thunderstruck and guilty.
"I mean... Sitting on him... Rubbed him the wrong way..." The looks he got were either confused or dumbstruck. "And we locked him in the latrines that one time."
"That was a joke!" Momchillo hissed angrily. "Does this look like a joke to you?"
"What about that time we hung him over the walls!"
"If you want to discuss every joke we've ever pulled on him can that wait till we get back!"
"What if Grollo had dropped him!" There, he had it. He had them convinced.
"Then none of us would be here!" The mouse snapped. "Maybe we pushed it a little, but we were playing a game! Does this look like a game to you!? Forget Fret and let's go h-"
He turned to leave and saw a very angry Deathglare staring at them. His eyes were spinning, and the world under Matiya spun.
"Run to the boat." Deathglare's voice said in dull monotone. The children did so, except for Momchillo.
"No! He's controlling you! Listen to-" The pine marten brought his fist down onto the mouse's head. Then Momchillo's world was black.
"You overgrowing rabbit!" Threeclaw swung at Captain Fleetfoot's feet. The hare hopped back to avoid the blow, and went in for a strike to the head.
"You stinkin' bogdweller." Threeclaw parried and lunged.
"Mangy cur!" Fleetfoot blocked and slashed.
"Poxy gnat!" Threeclaw ducked and jabbed.
"Fish-fingered yellowbelly!" Fleetfoot diverted the attack and made one of his own.
"Raving lunatic!" Threeclaw flattened himself and slashed.
"Madbeast!" Fleetfoot dived away, and swung.
"Slow-footed fiend!" Threeclaw rolled and slashed.
"Long-eared fool!" Fleetfoot parried and chopped.
"Lanky lackwit!" Threeclaw parried, and their blades held.
"Captain, the vermin are fleeing sah! Should we give chase?" Corporal Higgins was holding up the bleeding Lugger, and was barely standing himself. The other hares were dazed and bloody, but the vermin had more injuries, and judging from the bloody footprints, more injured.
Threeclaw stabbed suddenly, aiming for Fleetfoot's foot. The hare was taken by surprise and slashed wildly. The stoat turned tails and raced away, laughing madly. The Captain ignored the Corporal's dazed 'sah?' and gave chase.
The spell was broken once they were on board. Jack's first move was to pounce on Gulash, and sink his teeth into the rat's shoulder.
The big rat yelled and stumbled to the ground. Overcome with battle mania Grollo slapped at a weasel with a wounded shoulder. Hawthorn chose a small rat as her target (well small compared to the other rats). He turned to her just as she pounced, shoving him to the deck, before slamming a fist into his unprotected nose. Desperate she raised a fist once more, only for a weasel to pounce on her.
Jack did not fare well against the battle hardened rat, who reached him off and shoved him onto the deck, bringing a footpaw down onto the lagomorph's nose in quick succession.
Grollo was choking the weasel, who's face was purple as she tried to scratch at both his paws with one of her own.
The weasel had taken her by surprise, and now the two were rolling on the deck, clawing and kicking at one another. Sharpfur tried to tear at her ear, but her kicks kept pushing him away.
"Stop!" Thornflame yelled. Grollo stopped, and let go of Heartrip, the injured weasel gasping for breath. Gulash stopped mid-swing and Sharpfur stopped biting, but Hawthorn's footpaw connected with his nose.
"Why you-" He clutched his nose in pain, muttering mutinously in anger.
"Gulash tie them to the mast, all of you on your feetpaws! We're moving now!"
The command was like a spell, and the vermin set to the work, pulling the sail open and raising the anchor.
"No!" Captain Fleetfoot bellowed in rage. Threeclaw pounced and caught the anchor by the edge, cackling madly.
"Stay alive hare, I still owe you some fingers!" The albino stoat laughed, then shrieked as one paw was crushed against the boat.
The ship was moving fast down the river. Fleetfoot chased after it on the riverbank.
"Kids! We're coming kids! Keep your chins up we'll save you! Just... Stay alive!"
The vermin jeered from the deck of the ship, and the old hare growled hatefully. He would get them back... And those vermin had better be ready for when he did.
"This is all your fault!" Momchillo snapped at Matiya.
"My fault?" The squirrel looked stricken.
"If we had just ran away when I said so!"
"B-but Fret-"
"Is one of them!"
Fret's ears drooped. Grey Claw on the other paw, looked ecstatic.
"You're staying?" Fret looked at his happy face and felt more lost than ever before.
Sharpfur grinned and stepped between them. "What did I tell you Grey! He'd come around."
The rat hugged Fret and by extent Sharpfur, who was now pinned between them. "So, are you my brother now?"
Fret slumped low, still in Grey's grip. He had no choice. He never had a choice.
A few hours later...
Gulash walked up to the mast and smacked Momchillo across the face. The children screamed, and the mouse went limp. Gulash undid the knot and pulled him loose. He pointed at the ferret and grunted. Fret understood, his fur tingling nervously, he rose and followed the large rat into rhe cabin.
Thornflame was smiling in that way that made Fret shiver. It was almost as bad as Deathglare's vacant expression. Threeclaw was smiling from the shadows, one paw on the hilt of his rapier, the other cocooned in bandages. Gulash closed the door behind them both, still dragging Momchillo by the tail. Fret suddenly felt very nervous.
"Ah, Frettie, that's your name right?" Thornflame's voice made his furs stand on end.
"Y-yes." He stuttered, his claws fretfully twiddling with each other.
"And do you 'fret' much?"
"N-no. Not really."
"That's excellent. Ferrets fretting, Silvertongue would make a song of that." The others laughed.
"Haha, yeah..." He trailed off as the laughter died out.
"Now, Fret. Threeclaw said something about you. You hate this mouse?" She pointed at Momchillo. Fret stumbled backwards.
"N-yes! Yes I-I do! I hate him very much!" He said, nodding feverishly, hoping the lie would be enough to placate them.
Thornflame smiled and drew a dagger. Fret tried to take a step backwards, but Gulash stood in place, preventing the ferret from backing out. "Excellent. Now, you said you wanted to kill him? Was this true?"
"Yes!" He snapped desperately. The walls of the cabin seemed to be closing in on him. "I hate him, he's always been cruel to me!"
"Of course." She tossed the dagger and caught it by the blade, holding the handle in his direction. "Take it."
The approaching panic made Fret accept the dagger in a shaking paw. Deathglare was impassive, Gulash still held Momchillo, Threeclaw's lazy smile. It all made Fret shiver.
"Now. Kill him." And she pointed at Momchillo.
"Wh-what?" Fret gulped. "N-no-"
"But you hate him, don't you?"
"I do! B-but you need him!" He said, grabbing at the first excuse he could think of.
"I don't care about one mouse. You hate him. Kill him."
"I-I-I-" His paw was shaking madly, he was sure the others could see. He doubted he could kill the mouse, even if he wanted to.
"You. You. You. Kill him. Go on. You'd have done it before."
Fret dropped the knife. "I-I can't-"
"But you'd have done it before, surely it should be easier now." They were playing with him, he realized, and he let out a whimper.
"I lied! I lied! I lied!" He gulped audibly. "I was going to free them... T-t-to bring them back t-to R-Redwall." Thoughts of Redwall were painful. He tried desperately to stop shaking.
Gulash placed a strong paw on the back of his neck. He wondered whether death would be a relief.
"Fret, thank you for your honesty. Now, you have nothing to fear. Your friends are our guests. We will not harm them. They are hostages, to allow us safe passage past Salamandastron. We will sell them to woodlanders for food and drink. As for you? Mayhaps we'll sell you too. Or mayhaps you'll join us." She shrugged. "It's your choice. You ought to think about it."
Gulash's grip tightened.
"But... If you are ever inclined to betray me again..." She smiled her dark little smile. "We'll see how strong Gulash's grip is. Understood?"
Fret nodded weakly. "I-I-I-"
"You. You. You. Get out."
"Bloody blighters. We'll catch up to them fast though, never fear. Take care of Lugger, it's all we ask, wot. They'll be travelling south Moss River, the current can take 'em fast, but they'll have to stop at night or sink their boat."
"We are good with boats. And if they have as few as you say we can go doublequick." The Log-a-log stepped forwards with a score of shrews. Fleetfoot smiled a little.
"Well chaps, it's Mattimeo all over again, if I may say so myself."
"I'm coming too." Connington's voice brokered no argument. He was clad in an old chain suit, with some signs of rust, a round, wooden shield was strapped to his back. A sword dangled from his hip. He had failed them all, but if Fret was out there then he'd live up to his promise to the Abbot. He'd go to the Dark Forest and back and drag his nephew home if he had to.
Bella smiled wrily. "Good luck friends, may the fates beut she left that unsaid.
Constance was sleeping when he entered. Good, she'd probably strangle him.
"Constance... I'm not going to fail this time. I... Failed you, and Rowland and your babes," his voice cracked weakly, but he found his resolve. "But there's a chance to save Fret, and I won't fail him... I can't fail him." Jon found that he regretted coming to say goodbye. "I'll be back... See you soon."
And with that he left.
Footnote: Haha! Adventures here we come my mateys!