Foeseeker

By Mariposa Gollery

 

Chapter 1

Celeste raced up the trunk of the nearest tree, and peered out over the dense woodland in which she was lost. The squirrel could see woodland, in the distance there were the flatlands, and she could see vague outlines of mountains on the horizon. What was that blot on the border between the flatlands and the woodlands? She would find out.

            Augusta cleared the foothills and peered out across the flatlands. Behind her were the mountains, in the distance, woodlands. What was that blot on the border of the woodlands and the flatlands? She would find out. She was the niece of Salenarie Foeseeker, a mighty warrior. She would find her sister. If Celeste was dead, she would kill the vermin that destroyed the last reminder of where she came from, what she was.

             Augusta started running, not knowing that her twin sister, Celeste, was swinging through the treetops, urged on by the same thoughts.

 

            Constance the badger noticed the small spot racing across the flatlands. She was on the wall tops of Redwall Abbey, watching the spot's speedy progress. If it was a creature meaning harm to Redwall, it was only one, posing no threat. Anyway, it was headed slightly south of Redwall. The great Joseph Bell tolled, calling everybeast in to supper. Constance left the wall top, unconcerned about the spot moving across the flatlands.

 

            Augusta and Celeste were unknowingly heading for the same spot: a birch, not far from the path, but far enough back so nobeast could see them. A fallen elm lay next to it, the ideal hiding spot. It would also provide a shelter to sleep in. They had both decided to survey the abbey and watch whoever lived there. If the creatures were friendly, Celeste would just walk up to the front gates and knock on the door, while Augusta would rather secretly contact somebeast inside and gradually be introduced in.

 

            It was twilight, but in the woods it was already dark. Celeste heard rustling in the grass below. The creature was not showing itself, so it must be trying to hide, so it was probably a vermin. Silently, Celeste dropped from the trees, attacking whatever was beneath her. Augusta was lucky to have heard the slightest rustle before Celeste dropped on her, or she would have been killed, for the element of surprise would still have had her looking down, unprepared for the attack. Celeste was surprised. Whatever the creature was, it knew all her fighting moves, and all the counterattacks. And why could she not see it? Whatever it was, it was black as night, just like her. Suddenly, a voice said, "Truce! I want to talk!"

            Celeste got up. The creature struck flint to tinder and a fire sprang up in the fire pit it had been making before the attack. Augusta stared at Celeste it disbelief. Surely she was seeing a ghost. Her sister would not have been in the same area, it was impossible; not after all the distance she had to travel to get here. No, that was just her disbelief. If she could be here, so could Celeste. " Augusta, is that really you?" Celeste spoke hesitantly.

            "Yes, it's me, but is that really you?" Augusta whispered.

            Tears filled Celeste's eyes as she spoke. "Oh, Augusta, I'm so sorry. I didn't think."

            "It's all right."

            They just sat there staring for a while, then they both started to cry. They cried themselves to sleep, clutching each other like they would never let go.

 

            The next morning the two sisters found a pool of fresh cool water to drink, and some button mushrooms and watercress. Then they went to see Redwall Abbey. They didn't know that it was called Redwall, but they did see that it was built of colossal red sandstone blocks. The massive walls surrounded orchards, fields, and a gigantic inner building with dormitories, two main dining rooms, kitchens, attics, and cellars. There was also a large pond that fish swam in, and young ones played in the shallows.

            There was a slight argument about how they were to enter. In the end they decided to survey the abbey a while longer and not try to hide at all. If they were seen before they decided to knock on the front gate, they would enter - if invited in -before planned. If they were not noticed, they would make themselves known after a few days. They were not noticed. Augusta was nervous about just walking up and knocking. "Can't we contact somebeast and make sure it's okay? They might not be friendly," Augusta said nervously.

            "Augusta, they're farmers, what harm could they do?” Celeste replied calmly. "Anyway, if they do attack, we can just run across the path, jump the ditch, and run out of arrow range on the flatland. Then we could circle around into the woodland and decide what to do from there."

            They stepped into the shade of the gates of Redwall Abbey, and knocked. Celeste and Augusta stepped back onto the path and waited for somebeast to look over the wall tops to answer.

 

Chapter 2     

Poisonpaw was furious. He and his followers had traveled down from the cold, hard northland in ships, half starved, heartless vermin of all kinds. They had come ashore in this warm climate to plunder the coast, then they would go even farther south, stopping frequently for provisions, but the lookout rats had been so eager to get to shore they had not noticed the reef. The ships had run aground the rocks and the hulls had been smashed. Now the entire hoard had to march inland and settle without going any further south. The punishment for the lookouts was to build a litter and carry him inland under the lash and on half rations. Everybeast was staying away from him, even his seer, Alisonde. He called the vixen to him. “Read me the omens” he snarled at her.

            She quickly scurried to the other side of the fire and began tossing her colored stones, bones, and feathers and inspecting the patterns in which they fell. “The omens are good Lord, they get better as we travel inland. Good food and creatures to conquer. But there is a strange mouse in the corner of my Sight. I wouldn’t pay heed to him Lord,” she said.

            “What does it look like?” snapped Poisonpaw, making the seer’s insides squirm.

            “He is in full armor, with a mighty sword. It is pointing north, back the way we came. He does not look very afraid that you are here; I can tell that he is a true warrior. In fact, he looks ready to fight you, or anybeast, and come out the winner. He looks ready to fight the devil himself, single-pawed, and win, too.”

            Poisonpaw laughed. It sent chills down Alisonde’s spine. “A mouse? Fight me? And win? Hahaharr, that’s the best joke I’ve ever heard!”

            Alisonde relaxed. The chief was in a good mood. Poisonpaw’s eyes suddenly went cold. “Get out of my sight, fox,” he snarled.

            The seer happily obeyed the order.

 

            Poisonpaw was a ferret. He came from the far north, farther than any of his followers would ever dare to go. Where he came from, great mountains of ice floated in the ocean. He had traveled over many leagues to get this far south. Poisonpaw had picked arrows as his weapon. He always had a saber at his side in case he ran out of arrows, but that never happened. He had a way with getting creatures to surrender when he wanted them to.

           

            That night Poisonpaw had a nightmare. He was standing in a hall on a platform, watching slaves build something; he didn’t know what it was. They were all carrying heavy stone blocks and shadowy figures were whipping the pitiful creatures to a hard work pace. Poisonpaw recognized some of his enemies. They were all defeated. Even in life, Poisonpaw had no enemies. They were all dead. Suddenly, a figure rose up in the back of the room. It killed the one that was whipping it with a great sword. It started working its way across the hall, setting all the slaves free, and killing the slavers. All the slaves immediately became strangely gartered warriors; they were all wearing green robes. Two of the freed slaves became black squirrels.  If Poisonpaw didn’t see only one of the warrior mouse, he would have thought he was seeing double. The warriors kept coming on, now they were over half of the way across the room. For the first time in his life, Poisonpaw ran. He saw his ruined ships and tried to hide in them, but soon he was running along the deck, deciding to jump over the side. When he did, he was suddenly caught chest-deep in water, when before they had been beached. Then the water started to rise. Poisonpaw panicked. He started to flounder toward the shore, but the warrior mouse and the squirrels blocked his way. He reached for his bow and arrows, but they were not there. He tried his saber. Gone as well. The mouse raised the sword. The mice in green robes watched as if at some ceremony. The mouse brought the sword down for the final strike, he couldn’t miss, he was too close!

            Poisonpaw suddenly felt a searing pain pierce his paw. He had been thrashing around and he had stuck his paw into the glowing embers. He called Alisonde to treat his wound.

            “What were you dreaming about?” the seer asked.

            “None of your business, fox,” growled Poisonpaw.

 

Chapter 3

            Augusta lay in bed, running the day’s events through her head. An old mouse called Methuselah had stuck his head over the wall tops and let them in. they had been introduced to Father Abbot Mortimer and the badger Constance. Several young ones, or Dibbuns, as they are called in Redwall, had played with the twins’ bushy tails and around their footpaws. A great bell suddenly tolled and Celeste jumped almost as high as Constance’s head. The newly made friends went in to dinner teasing Celeste while she was trying to regain her dignity. The food was delicious. It was better than anything Augusta had ever tasted. The salads, puddings, cakes, and pies made a delicious meal. The moles made a deeper n’ ever turnip n’ tater n’ beetroot pie. It was like nothing she had ever tasted. There was a large plum pudding that smelled better than any plum pudding Augusta had ever smelled. Then they were shown to a little room of their own with freshly made beds. Augusta drifted off to sleep with a full stomach and a happy grin on her face.

           

            Poisonpaw was bored. The litter had been made; it had been made comfortable with pillows and blankets. The unfortunate vermin were carrying the litter on their shoulders. Poisonpaw was not one to just lie about and order others around. He was a ferret of action, and he was bored. Slowly, almost lazily, he whipped the nearest rat into a trot. The others quickly followed suit. After a while, Poisonpaw called a halt. He got off the litter and began inspecting his hoard. He picked out what he thought was the fattest, heaviest hordebeast. “Come,” he growled.

            The stoat hastened to obey. “Get into the litter,” he ordered.

            The lucky but confused beast did, gratefully. “March,” growled Poisonpaw.

            The unfortunates set off carrying the fattest, heaviest hordebeast on the litter instead of Poisonpaw. One of the rats groaned. In an instant, Poisonpaw was up front, whipping the rat to a swift canter. From then on, there was silence except for the tramping of footpaws and the groaning wood of the litter.

 

            Celeste woke at dawn, like she always did. Together, she and Augusta explored their room. In the back they found a bowl of water and some fresh green habits identical to those worn by the inhabitants of Redwall. The pair went downstairs to find the abbey deserted. “I guess they don’t wake up as early as we do,” Augusta whispered.

            They followed their noses down to the kitchens. There they met the head cook. “I’m Friar Hugo,” the fat little mouse said. “Would you mind helping me pull these scones out of the oven for breakfast?”

            Celeste took a long oven paddle. “This would make an excellent weapon for paw-to-paw combat,” she said.

            Augusta took a paddle and together they did some of the basic poses. “I don’t care if they can dance and sing, they need to be used for pulling scones right now.” The fat friar mopped his brow with a dock leaf he always carried in his tail.

            Augusta and Celeste laughed, pulled some scones, then they made some breakfast sandwiches and went to walk the grounds. They went up to the wall top to watch the sun rise in the sky. After a while, the Joseph Bell tolled for breakfast. Celeste turned to Augusta. “Do you suppose we could fit more breakfast into us?”

            Augusta smiled. “I could always fit more Redwall food into me.”

            Celeste grinned back. “Me too,”

            Over the day, Augusta and Celeste stayed together less and less. They still saw each other but they didn’t stay always side-by-side. Just before afternoon tea, Celeste found Augusta staring at the tapestry of Martin the Warrior.

It was a marvelous work of art, worked upon by many paws. It was an early chronicle of Redwall history, showing a brave mouse dressed in armor. He was smiling, leaning casually on his mighty sword. Many rats, ferrets, weasels, stoats, and foxes were fleeing in all directions away from the mouse: Martin the warrior. His eyes seemed to be watching everyone in the room. Even though he seemed casual, he looked as if he was ready to start swinging his sword and slaying vermin.

“Why are you staring at the tapestry?” Celeste asked.

      

      Augusta seemed startled, as if broken out of a daze. “Wha-? Oh, Celeste, I just had the most wonderful dream. I found myself staring at the tapestry when suddenly; Martin stepped out of the tapestry. He smiled, and then he put his sword at my footpaws and said: Augusta, I choose you and three others. Then it was just a warm red mist with pleasant sounds and smells until you woke me up.”

            “Sounds like Martin wants you to be important,” said Father Abbot Mortimer, who had been eavesdropping.

            Augusta seemed flustered. “Oh, Father, you really think so? I thought it was just some nice dream.”

            The Father Abbot of Redwall looked serious. “Several times in our history has some young creature, or even an old one, had a dream in which Martin tells them something. Usually, the creature forgets the dream until the time when it’s needed.”

            Celeste laughed. “Oh, Father, you don’t believe that, do you?”

            Mortimer did not laugh. “I’m telling the truth. You’ll want to remember this.”

 

Chapter 4

That night, Poisonpaw had the same nightmare he did the night before, only instead of trying to hide in the ruined ships, he ran on. He found himself confronted by dense woodland. He tried to run through it, but vines tangled and tied him up. The mouse and the squirrels were on him in a flash. He tried to break free of the entangling vines, but they were too tight. He tried to make the vines entangle the warriors’ paws, but the mouse’s sword sliced through the vines and right into his arm!

            Alisonde was there, bandaging the bleeding wound on Poisonpaw’s arm. “What happened?” Poisonpaw gasped.

            “You were sleeping too close to your weapons and you rolled onto an arrow.” Alisonde replied coolly.

            The vixen concocted a potion. “This will help you sleep,” she said, giving him a small bowl.

            “Does it help nightmares?” Poisonpaw asked.

            “It should help you sleep without dreams or mental bothers,” Alisonde said, praying that Poisonpaw would not misinterpret what she said.

            To her relief, Poisonpaw drank the potion without complaint. She left him to sleep.

 

            Celeste and Augusta were having a strange dream, though it was more like a nightmare.

            They were seeing the horrible time when they were first separated. They were no more than Dibbuns, but they were already expert fighters. Then a vermin ship came and started taking captives for oarslaves. Their mother was racing them through the forest on their island while their aunt was holding off the vermin. Two vermin who had seen them run off suddenly overtook her. Their mother grabbed a large piece of bark right off a tree to use as a shield, but they were too fast for her. She and the little ones were hustled off in the direction of the ship. On the shore it showed their aunt Salenarie Foeseeker being held down by most of the vermin crew, trying to break free. Suddenly, the mother of the twins broke free with the little ones. She set them on the piece of bark she still held in her paws and pushed them out into the sea. As the sisters watched their miniature selves float off, a loud voice boomed out: “REMEMBER WHO YOU ARE. YOU HAVE FORGOTTEN AND WANT PEACE, BUT IN ORDER TO SURIVE, YOU MUST KEEP YOUR IDENTITY AND FIGHTING SKILLS.” Suddenly, vermin surrounded them, and they both fought, calling out;

            “Foeseekeeeeeeeerrrrr!”

            They awoke, finding themselves surrounded by Redwallers with questions.

            “Why were you shouting?”

            “What dream were you having?”

            “What were you shouting about?”

            “They must have had a nightmare, poor things.”

            “ENOUGH!”

            The Redwallers stared. The Abbot had never shouted before.  “Friends, please,” Mortimer said in quieter tones. “We all want to find out why our two friends here were shouting, but maybe they aren’t ready to tell us yet. Please, it’s the middle of the night, and we are all tired. Let’s go back to bed and sleep. We won’t get anything done if we stay up all night.”

            Muttering, the Redwallers went back to bed.

            As they lay there, Augusta whispered, “You know, that voice sounded a bit like Martin the Warrior.”

 

The nightmares were still coming to Poisonpaw. As they got further inland, the more panicked Poisonpaw was in his dreams. Tonight after marching ever inland, feeling that he had not yet reached his destination, he lay down to sleep. In his dreams, he raced through the vines that had entangled him the night before. He found himself confronted by flatlands. He ran on for a while, and then he encountered a long red wall. The mouse was there in a flash, swinging the mighty sword. He looked up, and saw the squirrels staring at him intently. The mouse was shouting “Redwaaaaaaaallll!!”

            Poisonpaw woke to misty dawn light shining in his eyes. He sighed. Life was so perfect in the daytime, but horrifying when he was asleep. Soon he was on the march at the head of his hoard. He had long since gotten bored with the lookout rats and gotten rid of them. He marched on, happy to be rid of the nightmares for at least a little bit. He felt like he was getting closer to his destination. Only one of the back stragglers noticed the sign that read: Redwall 5 miles. The stoat couldn’t read, and if he tried to notify the chief, he would probably get whipped, so he went on without telling anybeast.

Chapter 5

            Celeste and Augusta were helping the Redwallers with the daily chores. They helped cook in the kitchens, they toiled in the vegetable crop; they prevented Dibbuns from eating too many strawberries. They were very rarely working in the same area, they made different friends, and they did different duties in different orders. But they both felt that something bad was coming, something evil. Augusta had struck up a strong friendship with the shy mouse Larkspur, the infirmary helper. Celeste and a young mouse named after the ash tree barely left each other. Though Celeste and Augusta didn’t work together, they could still be found sitting together at meals, eating, laughing, and introducing their friends. Ash always wanted to get up and turn some cartwheels, while Larkspur sat quietly and ate her food, though she was quite taken with Ash. Occasionally they could be seen laughing over some private joke, or shooing Dibbuns off the wall tops. Ash loved to entertain Larkspur, and when she usually had a quiet, soft laugh, she laughed heartily and openly with him. Augusta and Celeste didn’t tell anybeast about the feeling they had, for fear of causing a panic, but they woke up early to patrol the wall tops, and stayed up late for the same reason.

           

            Poisonpaw was making good progress. He stopped early and sent two of his best trackers to scout the land. He rested, happy that his hunters had brought in such good meat. Alisonde had seasoned and roasted the fattest woodpigeon killed. The remains lay at his footpaws. He belched happily. “I need another woodpigeon,” he said. “One just wasn’t enough.”

 Alisonde scurried to cook another. Poisonpaw chortled. He started laughing and making jokes. His guards stared at him quizzically. Was the chief drunk? Poisonpaw had never been drunk before. What could possibly be wrong? Poisonpaw stared at his guards who stared back, a little fearfully. He said, “What?  Who says I’m not allowed to have a little fun?”

            The guards smiled, relieved. Then they started to laugh along with their chief. When Alisonde came back with the woodpigeon, Poisonpaw was laughing openly with his guards. He invited them to join him eating the woodpigeon. They took the treat gratefully. It was a rare pleasure to dine on Alisonde's food with the chief. Poisonpaw was secretly putting off going to sleep, as he dreaded the nightmares that came with them.

 

            That night, Augusta, Celeste, Ash, Larkspur, and Poisonpaw all had the same dream. Augusta and Celeste found themselves as slaves. Suddenly, one of the other slaves, a mouse, rose up and took a great sword and killed his slaver. They immediately recognized him as Martin the Warrior. He helped them deal with their slavers. Augusta was deadly dangerous with the javelin. She found herself to be equipped with several javelins. Celeste’s chosen weapon was the throwing dagger. She found several beautiful blades on her once she was free. They both stopped to inspect their weapons. “You will find these exact weapons next to you soon. They are perfect.” Martin said. “Come. We must free the other slaves. “

            Celeste found that the next slave to be freed was her friend, Ash. She rushed to destroy the slaver that was whipping him. Martin handed Ash his sword. Ash took it without question, a little overwhelmed by it all. Next to be freed was Larkspur. Augusta killed her slaver. She suddenly had a strange weapon. It was too short for a sword, yet too long for a dagger. “It’s called a dirk,” Martin said calmly. “Come. We must hurry.”

            They went on, killing slavers and freeing slaves. Then they saw somebeast at the other end of the room start to run. It was a ferret. For some reason, all the young creatures wanted to slay him. They chased after him, freeing slaves as they went. Then they reached the end of the hall they had been in. They saw their prey run past some holed ships. They chased after him. They soon encountered a wood that they immediately identified as Mossflower, the woods that were close to Redwall. Some vines momentarily halted their quarry, but when they reached the wood, the vines recoiled, allowing them to pass. All the freed slaves behind them were mice dressed in green habits, not unlike the habits worn by the Redwallers. The mice circled out, and the hunters soon found out why. Ahead there was a great red wall, not unlike the west wall of Redwall. But this wall was long, and Augusta couldn’t see the end of it. Celeste saw the Redwallers fan out and block the ferret from running along the wall. The four young creatures struck out at the ferret, with Celeste and Augusta shouting, “Foeseekeeeeeeeeeeeerrrrrrrrrrr!”

            Then the four that knew each other in the dream woke, then fell asleep again, worn out by the chase.

 

Chapter 6

            Poisonpaw awoke to one of his guards snoring, sleeping on his back and making a horrendous noise. Poisonpaw waited for the dawn, unhappily wondering what the dreams meant. Once the camp was awake, he would wait for his scouts while ordering foraging parties to search for food. He started planning the upcoming day while he waited for the sun to rise.

            His scouts came while the horde was waking. They told him they went up the path and found an interesting sight. A big red sandstone abbey stood at the edge of the path. Squirrels, mice, hedgehogs, otters, and moles inhabited it. They had a big bell that they rung for meals and special occasions. Over all, they were country bumpkins. “Were there two black squirrels that looked exactly the same? And were their two mice dressed in green robes?” Poisonpaw asked anxiously.

            “All the creatures wore green robes, Lord. As for the black squirrels, yes, there were two strange black squirrels that patrolled the walls after supper, and they nearly saw us as we made camp. We managed to hide, but we think they suspect something,” one of the scouts replied.

            Poisonpaw decided to investigate further later. Today, he would move his horde to a proper camp. “Was there any other settlements further along the road?” Poisonpaw asked.

            “Yes, there was an old church, by the name of St. Ninian’s, Lord.”

            “You did well. Alisonde, cook these beasts a woodpigeon. They deserve it,” Poisonpaw ordered. Alisonde grudgingly did as she was ordered.

            Alisonde was unhappy. She was used more of a cook than a seer nowadays. She grumbled, going to get her poisons. She was really angry and didn’t like the trackers.

 

            As Martin had said, Augusta woke with a set of throwing knifes at her side. Celeste had found the set of javelins on her bedside table. Suddenly, Ash and Larkspur rushed in, babbling to their friends about the strange dream they had had. “I know, I know,” Augusta said. “I had the same dream.”

            Celeste hushed Ash by stifling his mouth with her paw. “I already know the exact details! I had the same dream!”

            “And guess what I found on my bedside table!” Ash said excitedly.

            “He’s not the only one who found something on his bedside table!” Larkspur said with enthusiasm.

            “We know! We had the same dream!” the twins said together.

            Ash’s eyes grew distant. “Just to think, that of all creatures, Martin chose me to carry his sword.”

            “You didn’t seem so dreamy when you first got the sword,” Celeste teased.

            “Did you get your weapons?” Larkspur asked.

            “Yes,” Augusta replied, a little startled that Larkspur, in all the excitement of getting a dream sent to them from Martin and getting her dirk and Ash getting the sword of Martin the Warrior, remembered that the two squirrels had been delivered weapons as well.

            “Can I see them?” the young mouse asked.

            Celeste laughed. “Of course, my little inquisitive one. She has the javelins and I have throwing knives. We’re dangerous with them, too.”

            The sisters let Larkspur and Ash inspect the weapons carefully. Ash pricked his paw on one of Celeste’s daggers. “Ouch! Those are sharp,” he said a little too loud for comfort.

            “Shhh! Yes, and you can still see the scars on my paws from when I was a Dibbun, when I first chose to use daggers in war,” Celeste said in hushed tones.

            “So I am to use the blade in war. And there is going to be a war for Martin doesn’t give creatures his blade just for the creature to show off. He gives it when it is needed for war,” Ash said quietly.

            After that, there was silence as the wise words of the young mouse sunk in.

            “I don’t want to have a war,” Larkspur said quietly. “I want to have peace all my life and never see vermin.”

            “None of us wants a war,” Celeste said comfortingly “But if we have to endure the hardships of it, we will not lay down and die. We will fight!”

 

            Poisonpaw was unhappily marching through the woods. The reason he was unhappy was that it was all too much like the woods that he was captured by in his dreams. The soldiers seemed to mock him, happily marching in the welcome shade of the oaks, elms, beech trees, aspens, and many other trees that inhabited and created Mossflower Woods. Some even struck up a marching song:

“Marching through woods and river flow,

We go we go

Going where our chief tells us to roam,

We go we go”

And so it went. Poisonpaw didn’t stop the creatures singing, though he hated the way they were so cheery, for the soldiers felt better when they could sing. It also kept the soldiers in step. So Poisonpaw endured it and they marched through the silent woods.

            When Poisonpaw reached the little church, he was happy. He wasn’t totally surrounded by woods, and it was just a short march to the abbey. The perfect spot to make plans from. He sent some foragers out to get some food, and started planning his attack on Redwall and its peaceful creatures.

 

Chapter 7

Celeste and Augusta decided to teach the two young mice how to use their weapons in secret. The only creature that they told was the Father Abbot, for he was right about Martin and so he would know that Ash carried Martin’s sword. They also practiced with their own weapons. Augusta taught Ash how to hit a javelin out of the air after he learned the basic sword movements of the squirrel tribe that Augusta and Celeste came from, so the positions were a little different, therefore making it harder for the enemy to anticipate his next move. Celeste taught Larkspur about the dagger and how it is used, for the dirk was not much different than a long dagger. Larkspur also was taught the way the two squirrels were taught. The two young mice also were taught the normal way of fighting. They learned how to use their weapons surprisingly fast for the peaceful life they led. The two twins also taught their friends the use of other weapons besides their own. “You never know when the enemy will disarm you, no matter how good you are. You must learn to use other weapons in case of an emergency,” Celeste said grimly when Larkspur asked why the big heavy stave was handed to her one day.

            So the lessons went. The young mice were also taught how to use paws and other body parts as weapons. “In case of an emergency, you must use your paws to defend yourself,” Augusta said one day. “We have taught you to use as many weapons as we can, but if the need arises, you must learn the martial arts, as that is what it is called.”

            The mice learned their lessons dutifully, knowing their lives might depend on it one day.

 

            Poisonpaw had made his decision. He would take his horde and march early in the morning to Redwall. Then he would take his horde and try to take over Redwall by frightening the creatures inside. If that didn’t work, he would attack and, partly from the weight of numbers and from their fighting skills, he would take over, one way or another. He told his plan to Alisonde who really didn’t approve of it. “The mouse in armor is still there, only he is nearly covering all of my visions. I can only make out one omen: beware the sound of the bell,” she said mysteriously.

            Poisonpaw was unshaken by this, though the warrior mouse sounded like the same one from his dreams.

            That night, he had the same dream, only he tried to scramble slightly up and over the impassive mice that surrounded him. He managed it, but the wall seemed to go on forever. But he was stopped by something holding his legs. He found he was trapped in thick, gooey, sticky, cold mud. His legs couldn’t move; he was trapped. Suddenly, the mouse was upon him, he saw the squirrels behind him, he opened his mouth to scream, the mouse was right on top of him! Bonngg! He found himself in a cot he had set up in one of the church’s rooms. Saved by the bell. He suddenly stiffened, remembering Alisonde’s words; beware the sound of the bell.

 

            Celeste and Augusta were surprised to find Ash and Larkspur waiting for them outside their room. “We couldn’t sleep, and we wanted to talk some,” Ash explained.

            So Augusta and Celeste let their two friends come with them to the wall tops. Immediately they sensed that something was wrong. When the mist cleared, they gasped at what they saw. Poisonpaw had arrived at Redwall!

The Abbot was informed of the incident. He was relieved that they hadn’t been taken by surprise. Ay least they had a warning. The squirrels went off to look for some suitable weapons. Soon all the fit beasts were outfitted with window poles, ash staves, a few spears, a couple bows and arrows, slings, and oven paddles. They lined the wall tops waiting for the vermin to knock. It came suddenly, after the sun was out of the vermin’s eyes.  The Redwallers heads poked up over the battlements, showing that they were not afraid. Poisonpaw was surprised. Instead of an old gatekeeper, he got a whole regiment of mice. But he was not worried. His numbers still outnumbered them ten to one.  He smiled. Life was so perfect. “Who are you and what do you want?” a voice rang out.

For a brief second, Poisonpaw stiffened. It was one of the black squirrels from his dream. From that moment, Poisonpaw vowed to slay the twin squirrels that haunted him in his dreams. “Who am I? You really don’t know?” Poisonpaw laughed. “I am Poisonpaw of the northern coast, terror of the northlands!”

Celeste sniffed. “Never heard of you.” Despite the fact that she was on high walls and it was only brief, she noticed the ferret in her dreams was afraid of her by shuddering. He must have been truly terrified of his nightmares.

Poisonpaw grimaced. “Then will you talk with me?” he asked, a little grateful that the fearsome squirrel had never heard of him, for she was one of the only four that carried a proper weapon. In this creature’s case, it was a set of throwing knives. Her twin had javelins, and some inexperienced looking mice held a sword and a sort of long dagger/ short sword, a dirk he remembered it was called. But it was the sword that caught his attention. It was the same sword that the warrior mouse carried in his dreams.

The mice and the squirrels had a conference with an old mouse that seemed to be in charge. The squirrels seemed to disagree with the mice, but the mice one, after much reasoning. “Then drop your weapons and enter with only one other. Your horde must stay outside. If you disagree, you may not enter.”

 Poisonpaw smiled. This was just too easy. As he and Alisonde entered, he noticed the odd weapons. A few spears, mostly staves, and was that an oven paddle? Soon, Poisonpaw was inside Redwall. One of the mice, the one with the sword, said, “You may go back to the wall tops friends. The Abbot is safe.” The mice obeyed, with a little hesitation. But the sword and daggers that two of the commanders held convinced them it was safe.

The sword carrier seemed quite taken with the young mouse that carried the dirk. The two squirrels stared at him like a bad taste in their mouths, and he wilted a little under their glares. Did they remember him from their dreams? He hoped not, or he was dead. He decided not to attack the old mouse as was planned. Suddenly, he saw an armed badger heading towards them. His eyes widened. She would be hard to get by. “Good morning, Father Abbot,” she said, and then proceeded to the wall tops.

He noticed some young ones playing by a large pond. He waited until he had an opening to get through. Then he bolted for the little ones. He was grabbed by hefty paws and dragged backwards. Even though he couldn’t see where he was going, he knew he was headed for the exit. Those squirrels obviously weren’t brought up in the abbey. He tried to struggle but they clouted him over the head so he was in a daze, right on the border of consciousness and unconsciousness. He felt himself being dragged into a cool place. Then he stopped. There was a brief pause, and he heard voices, then he was being dragged deeper under ground, for it was getting cooler and cooler. He was suddenly thrown into an empty room. He heard the door being closed and locked as he gained control of his body. Strangely, he did not feel any pain. When he scratched an itch on the back of his head, he could feel his claws on his flesh. How did they do that? After a while, he was taken out and led away to the main gates. A blindfold had been placed around his eyes so he couldn’t see any weaknesses. These Redwallers were smarter than they looked. He felt the blindfold being torn off, and he was flung unceremoniously onto the path. He stumbled a little but managed to keep himself from sprawling in the dust. Alisonde wasn’t treated any different. Poisonpaw heard the gates being slammed and he listened to the cry of the badger, who had seen the incident. “You shall not attack when you are in our abbey! Go! And take your thoughts of war with you. Do not bother us again! If you do, you shall die!”

            Poisonpaw regained his dignity and called out, “I will be back! You can count on me coming for you! Surrender when I return, or die!”

            His reply was a hail of sling stones and a mocking voice, “The only way I’d die is of shame! You shall never triumph over Redwall and its creatures still live! Augusta Foeseeker has spoken!”

            At the name of the squirrel, Poisonpaw wilted. He was dealing with the legendary Foeseekers, who lived on an island and were some of the mightiest fighters alive. But Poisonpaw knew a bit of their way of fighting. He had fought them when he was young, working on a ship. He had helped bind the two black squirrels that had fought like madbeasts, but he didn’t think that the two babes that were sent off the island on a piece of bark would live. Apparently, they had, and they had come to Redwall to defend it. He hoped that they weren’t half as good at fighting as their older relatives were. The only way they had gotten the maddened squirrels to surrender was knocking one out and slipping a noose around the others’ neck.

 

Chapter 8

            The abbot was mad at the twins for knocking the ferret over the head and blindfolding him, but it was for the best. When they had dragged the assassin to the cellars, he had agreed to lock him up for a little, while they quickly discussed with Constance over what to do with the vermin. After all, one of them had tried to harm the Dibbuns, and when young ones are involved, you must take desperate measures to protect them. But he was worried about the threat. Celeste and Augusta agreed to teach the Abbeybeasts how to use weapons. They also taught how to make weapons. They hardened and fletched ash sticks to make arrows, and hardened staves to make spears. They also gathered stones for slings. Soon, almost every able-bodied beast was learning the use of a selected weapon. They also were taught the use of slings or arrows so they could fire at the vermin from the wall tops. In the short period of five days all the able bodied creatures could fire arrows or shoot slings at moving targets, and most could do fairly at a sword or spear. But it took almost a fortnight for Poisonpaw to attack, so they had plenty of time. Sentries were posted on the walls, and any vermin within range were to be shot at unless they were carrying a white flag of truce. None were seen. Still, the twins taught the Redwallers the art of war. It was hard to get the Redwallers to hit at them, despite the fact that they held blunt swords and were heavily padded. Constance taught fighting without weapons. Not nearly as many creatures signed up for her class. Still, the Redwallers easily learned the basics. The otters proved a good aim with the javelin and sling. The squirrels were excellent shots with arrows and the moles dug trenches. The hedgehogs could roll up in a ball and could roll around, causing much damage while being untouchable. The mice were good at fighting with staves, swords, spears, and oven paddles. The abbey was built like a fortress, with tall, nearly unclimbable walls, inner lawns, orchards and gardens, with a main building equipped with giant dining rooms, dormitories, kitchens, cellars, and attics. It was one of the easiest places to defend that Celeste had been in. Augusta thought that the peaceful abbey creatures should never even have been brought into this. They had never seen war, and were clearly not ready for it. But they were hardworking, and soon they looked like they were ready for the vermin horde and would win. They probably would never have to fight in open ground, so they were lucky. Augusta sighed. Why did a battle follow her wherever she went? All she wanted was some peace. The Joseph Bell tolled out teatime and all the workers went to Great Hall thankfully. For tea, they had blackberry tarts with meadowcream, mint tea, fresh strawberries, scones, and strawberry cordial. After the grace was said, the hungry creatures of Redwall fell on the good food with a will. After tea, Celeste and Augusta took a stroll around the abbey grounds. They were soon joined by Ash and Larkspur. None spoke; they just walked aimlessly around the grounds. If they had spoken at all, they would have talked about the vermin horde staying somewhere near Redwall and how they would get rid of it.

 

            Poisonpaw had sent out scouts again. They came back sooner than he expected. “Lord, they have posted sentries on the wall tops with bows and slings. We can’t get a proper look at the abbey.”

            “What can you see from afar?” Poisonpaw snarled. Stupid idiots. They can’t even disguise themselves so the Abbeybeasts won’t see them, he thought.

            “Not much. But there seems to be some sort of indentation in the middle of each wall. What shall we do?”

“You shall go back and find out some real information. Wait till the cover of dark if you have to. But don’t come back until you have good information! Now go!”                        Poisonpaw laughed an evil laugh as he watched the sentries scuttle away.

            That night, Poisonpaw slept uneasily. It was not the same nightmare, but a different one. He was in chains, bound to one side of a small room of red stone. He heard the door open and saw the mouse warrior step in. he groaned. There would be no escape for him now. The mouse spoke. “Why do you attack these abbey creatures? You can never win. They have trained warriors on their side, warriors better than you. You can save yourself a lot of trouble, Poisonpaw.”

            Poisonpaw laughed. “Why? Why do I attack these poor abbey creatures? Hah! I attack them because I am Poisonpaw, terror of the north coasts! That abbey is a perfect fortress, and it will serve my needs greatly. And who are the warriors that are better than me? They are all soft bred abbey wimps!”

            The mouse spoke quietly. “There are always Celeste and Augusta Foeseeker, related to Ranguvar Foeseeker, who held off an entire vermin crew while my father Luke the Warrior killed Vilu Daskar, terror of the north seas.”

            Poisonpaw stiffened. “Those two! But I thought they were long dead!”

            “They are,” the mouse said. “But their line isn’t. Or at least, Ranguvar’s isn’t. At Redwall, in your previous nightmares, you have seen two black squirrels. They even clubbed you over the head. They are an odd pair because they are black instead of the usual red or gray. They are the same color as their aunt, who was named Salenarie. Surely you remember her. She fought like a madbeast to save her sister’s children. You got that scar from her, trying to get her aboard your ship.”

            Poisonpaw shuddered. “Don’t remind me,” he groaned. He had a scar from his right ear to his lower back that he had gotten when he went to get some rope to try to bind the crazy squirrel. She had whipped out her head and caught his ear with her tooth. She nearly ripped it out, too. But she had kept her tooth in his back until he was out of reach. It was nearly 3 seasons before it healed completely, and he was swabbing the deck instead of doing any real work until then. It had not been pleasant.

            “You still have a chance to leave and save yourself the trouble. Save us all the trouble,” the strange mouse said.

            “No,” Poisonpaw said softly. “I plan to capture Redwall and rule this country side! I will prevail!”

            “Fine,” the mouse said and turned to leave.

            “Wait! What is your name?” Poisonpaw didn’t know what made him say it, but he did.

            “I am Martin the Warrior of Redwall, founder and champion,” the mouse replied. “I leave you to suffer the rest of the night.”

            The door slammed. Poisonpaw was alone and scared. He saw many horrors that night in his cell. Even the Joseph Bell didn’t wake him. His guards woke him after a while when he started whimpering in his sleep. “You are not to breathe a word to anybeast of this, do you here? If you do you’re all deadbeasts!” he hissed at them while wiping a drop of cold sweat from his brow.

            The guards nodded understandingly. He was promising that they would die if they told anybeast. The chief never broke a promise.

 

Chapter 9

            Celeste and Augusta were on sentry duty for lunch. They ate while staring out at the dusty path. From afar, they saw a dust plume and readied their weapons. “Dust sighted! Likely to be vermin! Ready your weapons!” Augusta called. Soon the sentries all had their weapons ready, but only the sentries on the wall facing the flatlands were allowed to gather up front, and others were called up to assist them. “It might be a decoy, and we don’t want to get attacked from behind and lose just to fight the enemy at the front! Keep your positions!” Celeste called.

            The Redwallers did as they were told, a little reluctantly. Soon, the vermin horde could be seen marching to Redwall. Celeste guessed that Poisonpaw planned to just attack and try to win. Maybe he had a decoy, but she didn’t think so. Then she noticed the white piece of cloth on a pole. “Lower your weapons! They want to talk,” she called.

            Once the vermin horde drew near, she called out, “Lower your weapons vermin! You can see ours are down.”

            Poisonpaw did as he was told and signaled his horde to do the same. “Sit! We want none of your creatures sneaking off while we’re talking,” Augusta called. Poisonpaw cursed under his breath, but obeyed. Now he had to talk and wait till later to carry out his plan. Or… “Attack!!!” he shouted.

            Immediately, all the Redwallers picked up their bows or slings and started firing at the vermin while the vermin were firing back up at them. “Keep your posts!” the twins called out simultaneously. The Redwallers were scared, but they obeyed. After a while, Poisonpaw saw that his plans just weren’t going to work. “Truce!!! I demand a truce! Let us leave in peace!”

            “Hold your fire!” the twins said. “Fire at any vermin that shoot at you or try to sneak away!”

           

The horde beat a quick retreat away from Redwall. Many hoped never to see the place again, but they knew it would be too good to be true. They knew that Poisonpaw would return and they would be brought along. But they didn’t complain. They knew also that Poisonpaw killed any who complained. The thought never occurred to them that there was only one Poisonpaw and several that had complaints and despite the fact that Poisonpaw was a very good fighter, and could easily kill any one who opposed him, the weight of numbers could kill him in less than a minute. For this, Poisonpaw was lucky. But Alisonde was thinking mutinous thoughts. She was getting tired of being ordered around for her cooking instead of her powers as a seer. She also thought that attacking Redwall was not a good idea. Why did he need to? He had conquered many other fortresses that were better than Redwall. For instance, most of them had paved courtyards and barracks made for soldiers. Why Redwall? What was so special about an abbey of mice? They should be left to their farms and fields. That was when Alisonde realized that she didn’t want the mice to lose and she wanted to fight for them. That’s why she started planning to contact the Redwallers. She was going to fight in secret for the Redwall mice against Poisonpaw. And she could use her brains to defeat him. She was no fool. She kept her plans secret.

            Two scouts were reporting to Poisonpaw. He was sending them out by the hour. Right now, he had three pairs of scouts and four pairs of foragers out. The first of the returning scouts reported a little wicker gate in the south wall. The next two pairs of scouts reported similar gates in the north and east walls. Poisonpaw grinned. He had found the weakness of Redwall!

 

Celeste and Augusta laughed at Ash. He had just presented a bouquet of flowers to Larkspur but had toppled ears over tail when she accepted it. He now lay flat on the ground, blushing furiously. They knew that they shouldn’t be laughing, but they were. Ash stood up, brushed himself off, than fell over laughing. Constance the badger was passing by after her sentry duty. She shook her head at the four, holding their sides and rolling around on the grass, tears of mirth running down their cheeks. Well, it’s nice that the young ones have something to laugh about, she thought and continued on her way. After the laughing spurts died down, the four friends went to the pond to paddle in the warm shallows. Some Dibbuns came and shook their heads. “Looka those beasties, splashin inna ponder wiv nobeast watchin ova dem. We should tell the h’abbit,” one of them said. He was a tiny mousebabe, always getting in trouble. His friend, a molebabe, nodded solemnly. “Hurr, theys vury naughty beasts. Boi okey, the’m gonna get baffed an’ sent to bed wi’ no supper.”

            His companion giggled. “Hurry, let’s tell da h’abbit quick, afore they gets out!”

            The two trundled off, chuckling at the thought of the infirmary helper and her friends getting sent to bed like naughty Dibbuns. “Hurr, oi’m gonna look vury sisere an’ say, moi, moi, you’m very naughty creatures, hurr hurr.”

            “Hee hee, theys gonna be scolded an’ baffed an’ sent to bed wiv no supper!”

            They entered the abbey building and met father abbot Mortimer coming out. They told him of the double duo in the pond. Mocking severity, the father abbot said, “Well, we’ll have to see them about this.”

            When he got to the pond, he scolded them with a twinkle in his eye. “Look at you, all wet and giggly. What shall we do with you? I’d never thought I’d live to see the day grown Redwallers playing in the pond like naughty Dibbuns!”

            That brought fresh spurts of laughter from the friends. Larkspur nearly fell back into the pond. “Oh, haha, father, we were hot and decided to dapple our paws in the pond. Heeheehee! Larkspur splashed Ash and he fell in!” Celeste gasped. She was so overtaken with laughter that Augusta had to take over.

            “Hohoho, Larkspur, she, she, oh, hahahaha, she fell in trying to rescue him! Hahahahahaha heeheeheeheeheeheeheehee hohohohohohohohohoh!”

            Larkspur tried to finish. “Hahaha, the two silly buffoons there, they thought we had planned this! Hoho! So instead of fishing us out, they jumped in! Oh, dear!”

            She too was overtaken by laughter. They lay on the ground, rolling in the mud and laughing. Tears tracked through the mud on their cheeks as they lay there, laughing. Together, they made their way up to the abbey to wash and change.

 

Chapter 10

            Poisonpaw had a plan. He snuck up to the rear of the abbey under cover of darkness. They also had the dreaded Mossflower woods and the cover of night to hide them. He snuck up and carefully inspected the locks that held the little wicker gate closed. He selected his tools and got to work.

            After about three hours, Poisonpaw silently swung the gate open. He sneaked in and greased the locks on the other wicker gates. Silently they swung open. His horde started pouring in. Poisonpaw had entered Redwall!

 

            Luckily, the mouse and molebabe were going to join the sentries that night. They decided that they would watch out for vermin better than the grown creatures. The wall top sentries had fallen asleep, for they were not used to staying up late. The two Dibbuns trundled across the lawns when they saw the east wicker gate swing open. They hid in the orchard and watched Poisonpaw open the other wall gates. The mousebabe squeaked just a little in fright, but it was enough. Poisonpaw was on them in a flash. They squealed pitifully. A sentry snuffled in his sleep, but did not wake. Alisonde had had enough. The silly creatures that Poisonpaw was threatening were only young ones. She snuck up on the ramparts and, disguising her voice, she called out, “Attack! Attack! The vermin got in!”

            Immediately, the sentries were alert. Somebeast grabbed the Dibbuns and hurried inside. Alisonde stood in front of the doorway and threw everybeast escaping to the safety of the abbey inside. Then she slammed the door and pretended to pound on it in a fury. No Redwallers were hurt, thanks to Alisonde. She had saved the lives of Friar Hugo, Brother Alf, Brother Rufus, Brother George, and Sister May, just to name a few. They all got inside safe with the Dibbuns; thanks to a fox that they thought was their enemy.

 

Poisonpaw was furious. Some Redwaller had awoken and called the alarm. He had not even injured somebeast. Alisonde had tried to catch some of them, but momentum had carried them indoors. If Alisonde hadn’t started pounding the slammed door in frustration, he would have thought that she had thrown them in and slammed the door. But the look of pure fury on her face had convinced him that she was just unlucky. He ordered slingers to fire at the windows, but most of them

were already barricaded. The ones that weren't he ordered archers to fire through after they were broken but before they were barricaded. This was no easy thing to do. The slingers and archers were accurate, but the feared squirrels were no fools.  He was so angry he started to throttle the nearest hordebeast. The unfortunate was nearly blue in the face before Alisonde pry him from Poisonpaw's grasp. He gasped as his throat was released. Poisonpaw was about to start throttling another when Alisonde smacked him in the face. "How dare you!" he spluttered and stated to kick and punch her so she smacked him again. That brought him back to his senses.

He grumbled and started throwing green apples at the barricades.

One moved a little bit, and the archers and slingers started shooting missiles at it, but the Redwallers behind it quickly moved it back into place. So Poisonpaw started throwing rocks in the pond. Alisonde interrupted him by asking, "What art thou going to do next?" She didn't know why she used the old speech, but she did. Probably because it bugged Poisonpaw.

He paused a moment, then ordered a tent to be set up. He slept to help him clear his mind, but it only befuddled him more. In is dream; his tent was trying to suffocate him. When he escaped, he ordered a fire for Alisonde to read her omens with. Then the smoke tried to suffocate him. He ran for the pond with the smoke pursuing him. He took a deep breath as he ran and jumped in. Immediately, his breath of air whooshed out of his lungs. The water pushed him down; it too was trying to suffocate him. He fought his way to the surface and climbed out. Two squirrel tails enveloped him, he needed breath, and he escaped into the abbey. A great piece of cloth surrounded him; on it was the mouse Martin the Warrior. He needed to breathe, why did everything suffocate him? He awoke in a cold sweat. He had taken over the abbey grounds, therefore cutting off the Redwallers’ access to the bell tower. The bell could not toll and save him from his nightmares now. He was starting to regret taking over Redwall’s outer grounds.

 

Chapter 11

Celeste and Augusta were angry. They had been caught off guard by the oldest trick in the book. They had completely overlooked the little wicker gates when they were securing the abbey’s defenses. They were pacing back and forth angrily. Now they had no source of fresh water or food. They were living off the supplies they had in store. They would have to ration the food if they were going to live out this war. The Redwallers weren’t used to rationed food. They needed to get to the pond somehow. At least they had a larder filled to bursting with food and an entire cellar at their disposal. But what of the vermin? What were they going to do? They needed a contact to Poisonpaw. But he knew his entire horde, if some creature mysteriously popped up, he would notice. They needed to talk with a creature of Poisonpaw’s horde, and they needed to fast. They talked to the ashamed sentries gently. “Did you see anybeast in that horde who we could talk to without them telling Poisonpaw?” they asked.

Most of the sentries shook their heads, but one piped up, “There was a fox, a vixen that stood in the doorway. If I didn’t know better I’d say she was throwing us in and making sure we all got in safe without being harmed.”

            “Did anyone else notice this vixen?” Augusta asked tentatively.

            Slowly, the sentries nodded their heads. So the decision was made. They would try to talk to this vixen.

            Alisonde was planning. She would try to make contact with the Redwallers. They knew of the flag of truce, so maybe she could use that. But how to catch their attention without Poisonpaw noticing? Too many problems, too many problems. She had seen a kitchen window, maybe she could use that.

 

            Poisonpaw was strolling through the grounds. He was happy his dreams were over. His plan was simple. Wait. He would wait until the Redwallers were hungry enough to come to terms. Then he could really take over. Alisonde was near the kitchen window. The cook had set out some pies to cool and they smelled good. She was edging closer and closer to the pies. She saw Poisonpaw headed her way. On a sudden whim, she grabbed a pie, threw it in his face and ran away. He didn’t see her, so he didn’t know who threw it. There was just suddenly a pie in his face, splatted all over. He licked his lips. It tasted REALLY good.

 

            Somebeast had seen a fox by the kitchen window, so Augusta and Celeste waited there for a while. The cooks noticed a pie missing. They laughed when they saw it splatted all over Poisonpaw’s face. The sentries had to wait until after tea to see Alisonde. When they saw her, they called out to her. “Oi, fox, come here!”

            Alisonde was relieved. She didn’t have to call out to the Redwallers. They called out to her. She quickly glanced around. Then she came to the window. “I’ve been trying to contact you all day,” she said. “I’ve decided that I don’t like Poisonpaw. I wanted to team up with you as a spy.”

            Celeste and Augusta glanced at each other warily. This fox was too ready. They lunged at Alisonde who didn’t struggle. They gazed deeply into her eyes and talked in a grim tone. “Tell us what you’re orders are.” Celeste’s voice was menacing and low. They could see the fear in Alisonde’s eyes.

            “N-nothing.”

            They released her. No lie had she spoken.  She hadn’t betrayed it in her gaze. “Alright.” Augusta’s voice was gentler and kinder. But it hardened. “You shall not be allowed inside the abbey until this war is over, though. We cannot take the risk.”

            “All I know is that he doesn’t have any plans that he’s told me,” Alisonde said. “I think he might be playing the waiting game. How shall I contact you when I have the information?”

            Without hesitating, Celeste tore a strip from her habit. She handed it to Alisonde. “Wear this around your head. Come to the kitchen window when the coast is clear. Wear it all day and all night. The next morning, take it off unless you have more information. We will be watching.”

            Alisonde took the cloth dutifully. The three went their separate ways. The Redwallers had a spy very close to Poisonpaw. And they intended to use it and treat it well.

 

Chapter 12

            Poisonpaw was thinking hard. How could he attack the Redwallers when they were inside? What could he do? Well, at least the waiting game would work. It always did. Even if he had to wait until the last Redwaller was dead, he could wait. He had waited for over a season before. With so many mouths to feed, surely the Redwallers would come to terms sooner or later. He chuckled. He’d seen creatures starved out of their homes before. They would be so skinny and hungry. The mere mention of food would make anybeast talk. They would betray, or even kill to get one slice of bread. He would prevail in the end. The hordebeasts were too stupid to cause a mutiny. Alisonde was simply too afraid of him to put ideas into their heads. Anyway, she knew that the Redwallers weren’t fighters. They would lose the war. They had won a battle, but so had he. Now they were trapped inside their precious abbey, with no food except for their stores. He had their food source and their water source under control. They had an entire abbey to feed, and they weren’t used to rationed food. He chuckled. This was going to be fun. They also weren’t used to keeping their mouths shut. This was going to be entertaining. To see their faces when one of them tells all their plans. He would kill the squirrels first. They would never haunt his dreams after they were dead. If they did, he would never have to worry about defeat. Life was good.

 

            A few days later, Alisonde put on the headband. She strolled by the kitchen window and stopped, sniffing the air. The food did smell good, and it was the perfect act that was real. Soon she saw the black squirrels in the window. She waited until she was alone outside the window than strolled over. “Your news?” was her only greeting. Ah, well. She was used to such greetings.

            “I’m sure that he’s playing the waiting game. He is very good at it, too. He’s played it for over a season before. He can wait for a long time. I’ve seen it. He spends weeks without so much as talking and can still outdo the three best fighters in the horde unarmed,” she blabbed. Why was she talking so much? She never talked so much at once before, only when she was reading the omens.

            They nodded. “I see. We’ll have to do something about that.”

            “Alright. But before I go, I would like to know your names,” she asked hopefully.

            “Why do you need to know?” one of them asked.

            “I would just like to know who I’m giving information to,” Alisonde said downheartedly.

            One of the pairs of eyes softened, the pair belonging to the one who didn’t burst out with the question. She whispered something to her sister that seemed to convince her, but then she argued back quietly. While they were talking, Alisonde watched for passersbys. None came. She returned her attention to the sisters when they stopped conversing quietly. One of them looked a little angry but more agreeable. The other looked like she was a mother about to tell a child something nice. “I’m Augusta,” she said. “And this is my sister Celeste.”

            Alisonde nearly fainted. While she was still only recently employed to Poisonpaw she had had a vision of two squirrels. She couldn’t quite make out any details about them, they were only silhouettes, but this same kind voice had said, “I’m Augusta and this is my sister Celeste.”

            A concerned voice brought her back to the real world. “Are you alright? Can you hear me? Hello? Does she look alright to you?”

            “I’m fine, I’m fine.” She said convincingly. She was still a little shocked.

            “Are you sure? You didn’t look at all like you were ready to endure Poisonpaw a few seconds ago. Do you need help? I am very good at quick disguises. I could escort you back,” the kind squirrel Augusta said.

            “No. I’m fine,” she said, and walked off.

            “Are you sure she looked alright? I mean, for a second there, she looked like she was going to pass out,” Augusta asked her sister.

            “It looked like she was in shock for a second I agree, but then, she’s a seer, and they have visions. She could have had a vision suddenly or remembered a vision that included something about us. If that’s the case, it was probably our names. You mentioned them, and she fell against the wall. Maybe she heard our names in a vision long ago and just remembered it. Who knows?” Celeste replied.

            “Maybe she’ll tell us when the war is over,” Augusta thought out loud.

            “Maybe,” Celeste said. She didn’t have to finish her sentence. Unless Poisonpaw wins and we are both killed.

 

Chapter 13

            Poisonpaw was puzzled. Alisonde was wearing a strange green headband. If he didn’t know better, he would say it was a part of the funny green robes the Redwallers wore. He decided that the Redwallers would be so mad at him and his horde that they would kill anybeast that wasn’t a Redwaller if they could, so it couldn’t be that. Still, he decided to see if Alisonde was comfortable with him. He called her to his tent. “Yes Lord?” she asked.

            So far she was normal enough. “With all this Redwall stuff going on, I haven’t had you read me the omens in a while.”

            She looked a little surprised. Well, that was understandable. He hadn’t had her do that since the first night on land after the lookouts had crashed the ships. She had studied the omens on her own, but not recently. The only omen was the mouse. But that was a while ago. Perhaps Martin would leave Alisonde alone.

            Alisonde went to the fire. She did all her strange chanting and shuffling dances while Poisonpaw watched. Then she got to it. She cast her stones and bones and feathers, and looked at the results. She shook her head and cast them again. She looked like she was getting angry, as they had fallen in similar patterns. She cast them again and again, as if hoping for a pattern change. There was none. Then she went into a stupor. Poisonpaw had seen such things before, and he waited. After a while, Alisonde shuddered and returned to real life. “What did you see?” Poisonpaw asked.

            She shuddered again, and spoke. “Lord, the vision is blocked. I see the mouse in armor; he doesn’t let me see the rest of the omen. He just stands there staring,”

            “Damn you, Martin the warrior,” Poisonpaw muttered under his breath.

            “What did you say Lord?” Alisonde asked.

            “I saw the mouse in a dream once,” he said carefully. “He talked to me, saying that I should leave or I would die. He told me his name was Martin the Warrior. I was cursing him for blocking the omens and haunting my dreams.”

            “Interesting,” she replied. Why was she staring at him like that? What was so interesting in him that she saw?

            “What did you see in your vision?” he asked.

            She looked indifferent. “It was just your Martin telling me to leave the abbey alone.” She didn’t tell him that Martin told her to keep on lying to Poisonpaw. 

            There was something she wasn’t telling him. He asked for it. But she had fallen into an agitated sleep and couldn’t answer.

            Alisonde didn’t like lying to Poisonpaw, even though he was her enemy. It was just that she had never lied to Poisonpaw before and she used to serve him. She had only become a spy recently and wasn’t used to lying to Poisonpaw. But lie she did, and he didn’t notice. After she had read the omens and slept he called a conference with her. He admitted he was a little nervous about the Redwallers. They weren’t attacking or calling a truce or anything. They weren’t even keeping a very close watch on Poisonpaw. Why not? She lied to him by saying they were probably too scared of him to acknowledge him. It was probably their way of avoiding a war. He seemed happy with that. She wore the headband again the next day. She told Augusta and Celeste of Poisonpaw’s confessions. They laughed at the thought. She also told him of her false explanation. They nodded their approval. It was true that they were scared, but they were just waiting. They weren’t ignoring him to soothe themselves. They were planning. “Actually, we were planning to send him a message soon. Should we send it by shooting an arrow with a message on it instead of our other plan?” Celeste said with a twinkle in her eye. “You know, just to scare him?”

            Augusta laughed. “That would be funny. Yes, let’s do that.”

            “What was your other plan?” Alisonde asked inquiringly.

            “We were going to give it to you and have you tell Poisonpaw that you just found it,” Augusta said.

            “I agree, it would be funny to see you shoot an arrow at him but deliberately miss him,” Alisonde admitted. “You should do that.”

            “We will,” Celeste assured.

            Alisonde left full of anticipation of the event.

            There was a slight argument between Augusta and Celeste over how close they should fire the arrow to Poisonpaw. Celeste wanted to fire it close to him so he would jump higher. Augusta wanted to fire it farther away from him so he didn’t fire back. Celeste won. They prepared the message. Now all they had to do was wait until Poisonpaw walked by the window they were going to fire it from. He did sooner than they thought. But then again, he was walking with Alisonde. She had probably persuaded him to walk all around the abbey so they could fire it at him without a big wait. She suddenly went back as if she had lost something. Poisonpaw was waiting for her. She went into the rushes to watch and have a quiet laugh without him noticing. They had Constance call out, “Poisonpaw,” In her deep voice.

            He turned to look. The arrow whistled by, clipping off a few of his whiskers. He yowled and got an archer to fire back, but the window was barricaded too soon. He looked at the arrow. He saw the message in it and picked it up. The twins’ work was done. Now they just had to wait for his answer.

 

            Poisonpaw was furious. They had embarrassed him in front of his horde. He would have to get them back sometime. Well, at least they were sending some sort of message to him instead of just keeping quiet. He read over the message. It read;

            Poisonpaw,

            We want to talk. Send an arrow back and stick it in one of the barricades with when we should talk. You must talk under the flag of truce or we will keep silent.

            Celeste and Augusta Foeseeker

He could meet their terms. They would talk when he wanted to. That was good. He had Alisonde write a reply;

           

Foeseekers,

            I will talk. We will meet in three days time under the flag of truce.

            Poisonpaw

What he didn’t know was that Alisonde wrote more. She wrote;

            I hope all will be well. Meet at our usual spot tomorrow.

            Alisonde

The archer fired it at the same window that the first message came from. After a small wait, the barricade was shifted and the arrow taken out by a pair of black paws. Poisonpaw’s message had been delivered. Another message arrow was fired. It only read;

The time is set.

They would meet in three day’s time. The war was reaching its second and perhaps final stage.

 

Chapter 14

            Alisonde met with the squirrels the next day. She was nervous. “What are you going to do?” she asked.

            The squirrels looked at each other. Augusta nodded slightly. Celeste nodded back. Augusta cleared her throat. “We are planning to ask for a battle on the flatlands. Then we won’t have to wait. Some creatures are going mad without something to do, for their duties were outside. We wanted to get it over with, but we are hoping for him to disagree. We’d prefer to just end up having what we call a missile battle. A missile battle is when both sides just fire bows and arrows, throw slingstones and shoot other missiles at each other. We really don’t want an open war, not yet.”

            Alisonde saw the truth in her ally’s eyes. She too, didn’t want an open war. “What am I to do if it comes to an open war?” she asked quietly.

            “If it comes to that,” Celeste replied, “You are to put on your green headband when he sends out his best fighters so we will be ready. Do you understand?”

            Alisonde nodded. If it came to open war, she would play a role of most importance to the Redwallers. “I’m afraid,” she whispered quietly.

            “Me too,” Augusta said. “But even if we’re afraid, we must be brave, for no war is won by hiding in cubbyholes and safe places.”

            Alisonde saw the truth in her words, and agreed to carry out the plan. But she also had some plans of her own.

            She went to the captains. It was best to start with the stupidest ones first. She went to a stoat called Scarnose. Alisonde was disguised as a ferret, and she wore the better clothes of a beast with higher rank. “Huh,” she said. “I don’t understand why we have to attack the Abbey. We’ve conquered and even found better fortresses than this before. Why guard a bunch of country bumpkins? What’s the point?”

            Scarnose nodded. “Ya, why do we have to hang around here? There’s nothing to take. Like you said, we’ve conquered better coves than this.”

            A few surrounding hordebeasts were nodding and speaking their complaints about Poisonpaw. Alisonde was getting excited. Her plan was working! “And why aren’t we attacking? We’re just waiting around to talk with a few woodlanders! We could overcome them easily! Yet still we wait for them to come and talk! I dunno ‘bout you mates, but I’m getting sick of waiting,” she said.

            Murmurs of agreement were going around the group of vermin listening. She knew they wouldn’t talk to others about this because Poisonpaw would hear, and they would be dealt with. And when Poisonpaw dealt with his horde, it was fatal.

            Alisonde did similar things in various disguises around the abbey grounds. Soon, a good part of the horde had some complaint that they had told her. She went around, rousing suspicions about Poisonpaw, making mischief. But she never let slip what her name was. She always just appeared as a vermin who was sick of Poisonpaw’s rule. That night she had a good thought. Maybe, if she played her part right, the Redwallers wouldn’t have to go to open war. She might be able to get a great amount of the vermin to turn against him and attack, leaving the Redwallers free to come out of the main abbey building. Or, she thought, shivering at the idea. I could slip one of the squirrels’ weapons between his ribs while he was asleep and draw the suspicion away from her and get rid of Poisonpaw. But she wasn’t a murderer. She would find a way. If she didn’t, she could slip away now, live in Mossflower and never be heard of again. But the squirrels would find her. She slept with a troubled mind, and sleep brought no help.

            The next morning, she had an idea. That night, she brought out the grog. It was an old favorite of the vermin, seaweed grog. And very good for making them ignorant. She started a fire and the grog was passed around. The vermin were soon drunk. Her plan was working well! She could swear that Poisonpaw’s best fighters were drinking extra grog just for her plan to work!

            Soon they had her singing. She was a very good singer and did a song that included a dance. As she strutted back and forth in front of the horde, she slipped a little bit of poison into each of the best fighters’ drinks. Just enough to kill them, not too much. She had divided her poison up so that she could share it out between as many vermin as possible, and she shared it out between the better fighters. Soon the entire vermin camp was snoring, and some would not wake up.

 

Chapter 15

            Well after the horde was snoring on their backs, there came a knock on the abbey gate. Poisonpaw went to see who it was. He found himself staring at a vermin leader, with several at his back. Not quite so many as to make a horde, but plenty new recruits. “We want to talk to Poisonpaw,” the leading stoat called out.

            “Then talk on, stoat, for you are staring at the one and only Poisonpaw of the north coasts,” Poisonpaw replied.

            “I would like to join your horde. If I may, I would like you to please open the gates and let me in,” the stoat answered.

            Poisonpaw roused some hordebeasts and opened the gate, then strode out to meet the stoat.

            “I am Poisonclaw, and I was named after you. I would have been Poisonpaw, but my wise mother had heard of one who named himself that who was killed by you, and therefore made my name a bit different, the stoat said.

            “Your mother was indeed wise, for if I had learned that you had my name you would be dead. But if I find out that you have been lying to me, Poisonclaw, you will die so slowly that you will curse your stupid mother for birthing you,” was Poisonpaw’s cold reply.

            Poisonclaw gulped. He hadn’t really believed that Poisonpaw was as dangerous and bloodthirsty as he was described in the tales, but it turned out he was more deadly than many said he was. “I have brought something that might be useful when we fight,” Poisonclaw said, trying hard to disguise the trembling in his voice. “Bring them forward!”

            A bunch of pitiful creatures in chains were dragged forward. “Slaves,” growled Poisonpaw. He hadn’t had time to take captives, so Poisonclaw got a warmer welcome than any other beast had ever gotten from Poisonpaw.

            As he led Poisonclaw into Redwall, he began devising a plan to get rid of Poisonclaw.

 

Augusta saw a green headband the day before the Redwallers were to parley with Poisonpaw. When Alisonde saw that the coast was clear and could finally move over, Celeste had arrived. “Poisonpaw has gotten recruits,” she said fearfully. “And they have prisoners!”

            The twin sisters looked at each other. They hadn’t prepared for captives, not yet. But there was always a way. If they had to go to war so soon, they needed to think fast. But they most likely didn’t need to think quickly. They had a lot of time if Poisonpaw was agreeable. But would he be agreeable?

            The next day Alisonde didn’t need the green headband. Poisonpaw would tell all the Redwallers needed to know the next day. But Augusta and Celeste needed inspiration. What were they going to say? They would let him talk first and go from there. Poisonpaw started talking right after lunch.

            “Are you ready to surrender yet?” he called up in a mocking tone.

            “No. Are you?” asked Celeste in reply.

            “As a matter of fact, no. Who do you think I am, a baby mouse?” shouted Poisonpaw.

            “Of course not!” Augusta said scornfully. “A baby mouse has more backbone than you’ll ever dream of having, lumpnose!”

            Poisonpaw gritted his teeth. These Redwallers were being difficult. “Well, why did you ask for a conference?” he asked.

            “To get you to surrender,” was the reply.

            “As a matter of fact, I was thinking of having a real battle, an open war,” Poisonpaw said. Augusta shivered. This was what they were afraid of.

            Celeste called out the terms that she and her sister had decided upon. “Then you must agree to these things. You must go out first and let us come out second. We swear on our oath as warriors not to just capture the abbey back while you wait for us. You will be allowed to leave sentries but not too many. We will fight on the plains beyond Redwall. You will wait until we are across the ditch to attack. Whoever wins will be the owner of Redwall. Agreed?”

            Poisonpaw snarled. There had been no glitches in their plan. Ah, well. He would still win. “Agreed,” was his reply.

            They discussed the time. The battle was to take place in one week, plenty of time for both sides to prepare. The final battle would take place in one week. Alisonde prepared herself to betray Poisonpaw for what would perhaps be the last time.

 

Chapter 16

            Poisonpaw was a little frustrated that the Redwallers thought up a seamless plan. At least he had some advantages. He was allowed to leave sentries. But the Redwallers had probably been preparing for a while. He wanted to talk with them a little more about what they would do. He called out to the abbey. “Hello in there! I want to discuss something!”

            “Speak your piece and go, ferret!” was the reply.

            “About what we will do in 6 days, I have been thinking. We should wait for you on the path and both sides will cross the ditch together. Then if there are suspicions, either side cannot cross and just stay there. That way, neither side will have much of an advantage. Agreed?” he asked.

            “Agreed,” replied the voice. There was no more parleying between the sides ever again.

            That night, Poisonpaw had a strange dream. His tent was trying to suffocate him. He escaped from it and ordered a fire for Alisonde. The smoke got thick around him and he started to choke. He ran. The smoke chased him. He took a huge breath and jumped into the pond. His breath was lost as he watched a frightening spectacle. Martin the Warrior took his sword and shattered it into many pieces. They arranged themselves like teeth in a jaw and came towards Poisonpaw like they were going to eat him!

 

            Celeste and Augusta had escaped! They had waited, and waited, and waited until the time was right. Finally, when there were no vermin around, they leaped to the closest wall and scrambled to the other side. Then, they started to head toward the legendary Salamandastron. They had planned their trip carefully. They would go at double speed to Salamandastron and try to get help. Then, they would return to Redwall and try to arrive before the war started. They spent their first night in a long time outside of Redwall. In the shadows, they heard a rustling noise. Swiftly and silently, they attacked!

            “Stop! We are NOT from Poisonpaw!” cried a familiar voice.

            Celeste sat down wearily. “Ash, Larkspur, do you know what danger you put yourself in?”

            Larkspur pouted. “Right after you went, we swung across on a rope. It was very easy. We want to see the badgers and fighting hares!”

            Augusta chided her gently. “But we will be able to travel faster and lighter without you. And anyway, we don’t have any rations for you. Don’t pout, you’ll stick like that.”

            Larkspur threw herself at Ash, scolding him. “I knew we were leaving something out! I knew it! But oh no, we had to go right after them, without checking our supplies! Now we will starve to death, or worse! We might come back to find the abbey captured, and we would have to run away, leaving our lives behind!”

            Augusta rescued Ash. She held down a struggling Larkspur while Ash brushed himself off. When Larkspur finally resided her ferocious attack, Augusta released her. “Now, now, belay that kind of talk, missy,” Celeste told her. “You can split the rations with us, we’ll live. I don’t know about Augusta, but I’ve faced worse than starvation.”

            Augusta nodded. “And anyway, Mossflower has plenty of food to supply us. I’ve survived for a week in the desert, so the plentiful forest won’t pose a problem.”

            Ash looked relieved, but it was hard to tell why he looked relieved: was he relieved that they wouldn’t starve? Or was he relieved Larkspur wasn’t attacking him? Or both?

 

            Poisonpaw plotted. He decided that he and Poisonclaw would go on a walk on the ramparts and he would come back after seeing Poisonclaw have a fatal fall. And the Redwallers stood no chance to defeat him, so everything was good. He prowled around the grounds, startling the inhabitants of Redwall’s outer grounds. What would he call this place? Poisonpaw’s Palace, he liked that. He would pass on his reign to somebeast worthy, perhaps a son that he didn’t have yet. Yes, he would have children, and if he didn’t, he would give it to some other creature. And if he didn’t win? He would escape; gather the remains of his horde and rebuild it, take one of the other places he had already conquered, rebuild his ships, attack Redwall later. Then he would destroy it. But that was unlikely. He prowled on, plotting his maddened schemes and scaring the creatures under his command.

 

Chapter 17

            Timiny wasn’t born in captivity. He was born in a cozy tent.   He was three weeks old when   his tribe of squirrels was taken over. He had an older sister who was five seasons older than him and was barely even out of dibbunhood when captured by Poisonpaw’s father, Armoll the Evil. Timiny grew up in slavery, so he developed big muscles. It was lucky for him that his father was the best fisherman in the tribe, and his mother the best cook. He was brought up on scraps stolen from Armoll, and later, Poisonclaw.

That changed when Poisonclaw joined with Poisonpaw. Poisonpaw knew that everyone, even slaves, must eat properly, or they will lose strength. If slaves need to work hard, they need to eat and be treated properly.

When he entered Redwall, he saw their problem. He also noticed things others didn’t. For instance, he noticed the vixen conversing with the black squirrels, and later, the black squirrels leaving. He hoped that they brought back reinforcements or stayed away. His reputation was a troublemaker. Even though he still lived on worse rations than the soldiers, he grew stronger on the better food. Silently he thanked Poisonpaw for his new strength. Silently, he made a plan to escape.

            As Timiny planned, the squirrel twins and their mice companions sat down for something to eat. It wasn’t much, but it was a relief to take a break from wandering. Then they curled up under the underbrush and went to sleep. Augusta and Celeste took turns pretending to be asleep but secretly keeping watch. Celeste took the first watch. When the night was halfway up, she gently kicked Augusta’s paw three times. When she felt three return kicks, she settled back and went to sleep. The next morning, they gently woke their friends at dawn. Grumbling, Larkspur uncurled, and then she shook Ash. Then they started walking through the forest again. As they walked they ate their breakfast. As they ate they talked. “So, where are we going exactly?” asked Ash.

            “Recruits,” said Celeste simply, saving her breath.

            Augusta explained more thoroughly. “We’re going to see if we can get some of the hares from Salamandastron to help us win the war.”

            A voice came from right next to Ash. “Can’t see why you need to travel that far when you’ve got one right here.”

            Augusta reeled around. There was no one there. “Over here, doncha know,” said the voice from behind her.

            Celeste peered in that direction. “Show yourself,” she ordered to thin air.

            A hare appeared right beside her. “Don’t need to get all touchy, all you needed to do was ask.”

            She immediately turned to face him. He was a sandy color with a green tunic that blended in with his surroundings. Augusta asked politely, “Do you know any badgers living around here? We were looking to ask some for help to win the war we’re fighting.”

            The hare looked almost excited. “If it’s a war you want won, you’ve come to the right chap! Basil Stag Hare’s the name, and footfightin’s the game! Lead me to the bally vermin! I’ll chop off their tails to serve at tea! Take me to those wonky weasels, those rancid rats, those scurvy stoats, those flabby ferrets, those, those…”

            Ash waved a paw impatiently. “Yes, yes, now let’s get back to Redwall.”

            They set off back through Mossflower Wood, ready for Poisonpaw.

            Timiny was causing trouble. The captives were kept tied to wooden stakes for the night, and he tried and tried to get the guards to move him for the night. He moaned, he tossed and turned; he caused trouble among the others. Eventually, the vermin guards grew tired of his troublemaking and moved him away. To his delight and luck, they moved him right next to the kitchen window. When they were gone, Timiny kept an eye on the window. As he knew would happen, a cook came to finish for the night. As loudly as he dared, Timiny called out to the cook. The cook perked up her ears. It was a molemaid, and so it was more likely that she would not have as many suspicions. Suddenly, the vixen appeared out of the dark. The molemaid told her something and hurried off. She stood there and waited. Timiny took the chance. “Alisonde,” he called.

            She looked at him. “What do you want?” she hissed.

            “Freedom,” he said simply.

            A big otter came into the kitchen. He talked to Alisonde, and she pointed to Timiny. The big otter thought for a bit, then handed her something. She came over and cut his bonds. “Thank you,” he whispered, and strode over to the window.

            “I’m Skipper of otters,” the big otter said.

            “Timiny of the southern tribes,” he replied, and climbed through the window to freedom.

 

Chapter 18

            Poisonpaw was angry. No, he was furious. During the night one of his slaves had escaped. The guards said that he had been causing trouble and so they moved him around the abbey building a little to quiet him down. He had quieted down after that. When they had checked on him in the morning, he was gone. He executed the guards angrily. Then he calmed down. He prepared himself to propose to go on the walk with Poisonclaw. He prepared for a killing.

            Poisonclaw was unhappy. Poisonpaw had completely taken over. He was just as good off as any hordebeast. Poisonpaw was probably even planning to kill him. So he took action. He left. But before he did, he took with him a few trusted creatures. When he left, a score accompanied him. He would rebuild his horde and then come back at Poisonpaw for revenge. Off into the woods he went. Little did he know whom he would run into.

 

            Alisonde was making plans worthy of Poisonpaw. She conversed with the horde again, putting thoughts into their heads that would never come to them if it weren’t for her. She said to three quarters of the horde (only a few at a time) that the best thing to do would be to kill Poisonpaw because a) he was ruthlessly driving them on without cease, and b) if he were going to have a fortress why didn’t he take one of the bigger and better ones that they had already conquered? Anyway, these woodlanders were tougher than they seemed so why bother? She devised a plan. Next time one of her carefully chosen beasts was put on sentry watch over Poisonpaw’s tent, they would wait until he was asleep then stab him. If they were killed, she would raise the horde against Poisonpaw and try to stop the open war. It was the least she could do.

            Augusta and Celeste, along with Ash, Larkspur, and Basil Stag Hare, were walking in the direction of Redwall when they heard noises. They fell back into the underbrush, Ash and Larkspur letting the more experienced creatures going ahead, this being their first real fight. When Poisonclaw and his minions walked forward, they all stiffened, ready for them. Once they were surrounding the vermin, Basil signaled for them to attack. They went to it with a will. Poisonclaw was taken completely by surprise. Soon he was ready to fight, but the small advantage that the others had was enough. Basil used his hind paws to kick at the vermin, while the others used their weapons. The vermin put up a good fight, but the others won. Soon the woodlands were quiet again. Larkspur looked at the carnage around her. She was pale and she sat down hard. Augusta was over in a flash. “Are you all right? You’re not wounded, are you?” she asked worriedly.

            Larkspur shook her head. The same sort of thing was happening with Ash and Celeste. Larkspur spoke quietly, looking at the dead rat beside her. “He was alive, a living breathing creature, but then I got him with my dirk, and now he’s dead, and I killed him!”

            Augusta lifted Larkspur’s chin and spoke gently.

            “I know you don’t want to kill. No one does really. I don’t. But you have to understand that if you hadn’t killed him he would have killed you. This is war. You’ll have to kill. Why else would Martin have given you that dirk? Weapons aren’t for show. They’re for use, and if you don’t use them, somebeast else will. And that beast may not use them for good. They might use them to kill needlessly, and killing is never good. Not even to defend yourself. It isn’t good, but in war, it’s either life or death, or possibly enslavement. That is worse than anything else. Now, let’s just forget this and go to a different clearing. Leave the vermin for the bugs.”

            Larkspur was a little frightened at the tone of voice Augusta used while saying that last line. It was a tone of pure hatred.

 

Chapter 19

            Poisonpaw was furious again. Poisonclaw was gone. So were a score of his horde. Now he wouldn’t be able to rent his fury on Poisonclaw. Life really stank right now. He knew! He would beat up some slaves. That always made him feel better. He’d beat that insolent squirrel the most. For some reason, Poisonpaw hated that one more than any of the others. He went to where the slaves were kept. He kicked some tails, boxed some ears, and caused a small fuss. Then he generally went to searching for his least favorite. He wasn’t there. Why was he not there? He should be there, this could not be happening! His favorite slave to beat up was missing! He would kill the guards for this! Then he remembered. He had already killed the guards. The squirrel must have been the one to escape. He started beating the slaves harder, not bothering with a whip, he went at it tooth and claw. He wanted nothing more than to kill, to destroy. He went over to the vegetable garden and started throwing cabbages. One hit an unlucky soldier, who was splatted with cabbage and thoroughly annoyed. “Aw, chief, what was that for?” he whined.

            He immediately regretted it. Poisonpaw whirled on him, beating him worse than the slaves. As he did he roared in fury. “What? You were lying about in the cabbage patch, stuffing yourself like a rabbit who has gotten too fat? Slimy, worthless, insolent brute! You no-good excuse for a soldier! Why don’t you totter off to your Redwall friends and ask for some pie! If you don’t eat it you could maybe through it in my face! It was you all along who did that wasn’t it? You think you’re so clever, throwin’ pies at me while I’m in a good mood and runnin’ away to the cabbage patch to stuff your face! I should kill you now! But no, I won’t, you know what I’ll do? I’ll tie you up with the slaves, make you serve the lowliest of the horde, do the dirtiest of the jobs! See how you like that!”

            The unlucky stoat yelped in pain. “Owow! Please stoppit chief, I’ll work for you! Ouch! Just let me go, I’ll fight, I’ll kill, I’ll so anythin’ just don’t kill me!”

            After about five minutes of beatings, the stoat was bruised and battered enough to last him for a year. Poisonpaw, however, felt better, he no longer was steaming mad. He left the unfortunate one to round up his horde, and had them stand in front of the building, and since there wasn’t enough room for all of them, some stood all around the abbey. Peering out, Timiny had quite a fright. He saw the entire horde in full gear, their packs on their backs, their weapons at the ready, and any extra space in pockets or packs or pouches was filled with rocks. Poisonpaw shouted a message up.

            “Hey you! All you in the abbey! Listen to me!”

            Timiny’s scornful voice answered back. “Speak your piece ferret, I’ve had enough to do with you, so just talk and get it over with.”

            Poisonpaw was boiling at the impudence of the escaped slave, but he didn’t show it. “Look at my army! See the size of it! See what you will fight! You still have time to give up! Surly you country bumpkins have never seen such an army! You useless rabble, up against an army more than twice your number and trained warriors all! Can you really stand up to this?”

            A bored voice answered. “If you’re done, you will leave us. We’re bored with your useless prattle. You cannot triumph over good if you are evil. You have already seen that. If you had truly been better than us, you would have taken over the abbey with one go, yet you only own the outer grounds. You are the one who should give up, Poisontrousers. You’re the not the one fighting for something. If you really wanted Redwall, you would have it. But you don’t, you just want to kill. Leave while you still can.”

            Poisonpaw was fuming. He noticed some of his horde snickering at the name Poisontrousers, but he quickly silenced them. He shouted back, “Then die, scum! You represent no threat. I will overpower you easily!”

            There was no answer. Poisonpaw waited for an answer. There was none. Then something flew out of a window. Poisonpaw caught it right before it hit him. It was a little cloth wrapped around something. Just as he started to unwrap it, another hit him on the nose and burst. He whooped and jumped around. His eyes watered. He sneezed violently. Members of his horde soon found out why. The packages were filled with hotroot pepper, a favorite among the otters, seeing as it was strong, stronger than any pepper, and delicious in soup. Only a small amount was used in each bowl, but it still made it fiery hot. If a small amount was sprinkled near the nose or the eyes, the nose and eyes would run, and the creature who it was sprinkled on would submit to violent sneezes. This was exactly what happened to the horde of Poisonpaw. Soon the vermin were in total disarray, some of the more sensible ones jumped into the pond, others ran around in circles screaming, others tried eating fruit and hoping that the juice would make it go away.

            This made Poisonpaw even angrier. After the pepper bombs had stopped, Poisonpaw was ferocious. He shook an angry paw at the laughing building. “You’ll regret that! I’ll make you crawl on your knees and beg for death, but will I grant it? Oh, no, I’ll whip you and make you serve me! It’ll come to pass, you’ll see!”

            He received nothing but laughter at his remarks. His horde eventually calmed down, and so did Poisonpaw. He had an idea that would make him happy. He rounded up his horde again, but this time in front of the main gate. He opened it, and strode outside. Then he turned and roared out his proposition. “You all may have heard of Poisonclaw. Well, he left not too long ago. He and about a score of vermin up and left. I bet a lot of you would like to as well. Well, now’s your chance. You just have to come up here and say goodbye to me, and once you’re across the threshold you will be out of my horde. Well?”

            An especially eager rat ran forward and saluted. “So long! I’ll never have to call you chief again, will I? Well, I’m off to the nor-”

            It was over in an instant. The unlucky rat was cut off by a swift chop of Poisonpaw’s saber. It cleaved his head in half from top to bottom. Those who had started forward froze, and a few beat a swift retreat. Finally, Poisonpaw was happy again.

 

Chapter 20

            While the incident at the front gate was happening, The Foeseekers and their friends snuck back into Redwall. They scampered across the grounds and through the kitchen window. The cooks were startled but glad that their friends were back safe. After dragging Basil Stag Hare away from the food, they met with the abbot, Constance, Timiny, and a few others. After being introduced to Timiny, they all put their heads together to think of a plan. After a while a young mouse ran up and said, “Father, the fox is here to talk to you.”

            Celeste and Augusta ran back to the kitchens while the Abbot explained to Basil who Alisonde was.

            Alisonde was also glad that the sisters were back. She had some frightening news for the squirrels. “Poisonpaw is bored, and he is planning to burn the front doors three days before the planned war! He’s getting bored!”

            Celeste and Augusta looked at each other. It was five days before the supposed war. “Well,” said Celeste, “We’ll have to be prepared.”

 

            The next day was used for preparing on both sides. The vermin prepared to light a bonfire in front of the doors that they planned to burn. They would have a fire in front of the doors, and then throw burning sticks at the doors. It was more fun that way. That night the Redwallers carefully poured water on the gates and the pile of wood. Both sides were ready for the next day.

 

            The day of the battle dawned cloudy and gray. Poisonpaw cursed it. The Redwallers rejoiced. Poisonpaw was startled to see that once the bonfire had gotten started, (which took longer than he thought,) the front doors swung open, and he found himself staring at an army of Redwallers, armed with window poles, oven paddles, a few home made spears, clubs, oven paddles, and various other home made weapons. They charged, taking the barely armed vermin by surprise. Blades crashed, pepper bombs flew, oven paddles thwacked, voices roared. The Redwallers used their time-honored battlecry, “Redwaaaaaaaaaaaallll!!” while the vermin chanted their leader’s name, “Poisonpaw, Poisonpaw, kill kill kill!”

            The Redwallers had luck and the element of surprise on their side. Some of the vermin were unarmed. A few had been hunched over, getting the fire going. About a score of vermin had been preparing to throw a bunch of cabbages at Poisonpaw, and proceeded to do so, therefore making it easier for the Redwallers to attack. Poisonpaw was about to threaten a slave to make the Redwallers stop when a particularly hard cabbage hit him in the back of the head, nearly knocking him senseless. Basil kicked out with his long legs, agitating vermin with his remarks. “I say, jolly good, you bally stoat! Just chuck that cabbage at you leader thingy, and I’ll give you a flower for an award. Good show, you hit him right in the back, he’s almost conked out! Here, take this lavender soap for your bath, it’ll make you smell lovely!” the stoat snarled, and Basil disposed of him neatly. “Should have chucked that cabbage harder, that Poisonthingy is getting back up!”

            Augusta was in her element, whirling and stabbing with her javelins, throwing them and rolling to retrieve them, knocking over several vermin as she did so. Ash was performing some amazing sword tricks with the sword of Martin the Warrior. He twirled it and feinted, he swept and drove it, he thrust and parried, all the time back-to-back with Larkspur whose blade was like a silver blur. Celeste had three daggers out at once, but all of hers had blood on them. She stealthily slipped through legs, stabbing at times, at other times giving aid to those wounded. The plan for the Redwallers was that they would use the element of surprise and when you got hurt you would fight your way inside (or have somebeast help you) to get fixed. The vermin had more tactics, but the Redwallers had the strength of fear, fear that their abbey might get taken over, fear of enslavement, fear of death.

            After a while the vermin had the strength of fear too, fear for their lives. These Redwallers weren’t the country bumpkins they seemed to be. They were fierce fighters, using weapons that, when at first laughed at, they became fearsome. The vermin were disbanded; each fighting by himself while the Redwallers got in groups and surrounded them. It was a dirty trick, worthy of vermin, but Augusta and Celeste agreed that it would have to be their fighting style. The vermin began trying to get into groups, but the Redwallers did as they were told and stopped that as soon as possible. There were severe casualties on both sides, but the element of surprise and special fighting training helped those wearing green habits. Then Augusta saw Alisonde wave her headband in her direction. It was the signal. Alisonde would keep her eye on the best fighters and wave her headband in that direction. The gang, (as everybeast in the horde called them) had caught on to some of the tricks the Redwallers were using, and banded together, collecting as many vermin as they could together. Right now they were unknowingly making a beeline for Augusta. She dropped into a readying crouch. One big weasel came up to her. She drew a javelin. He surprised her by kicking out with his footpaws and hitting her jaw. Alisonde hurried over, cutting down vermin as she went. It was clear to Poisonpaw whose side she was on. Alisonde got to the gang just as the big weasel kicked out and Augusta rammed her javelin into the pad of his foot. He screamed in agony, and Augusta whipped her javelin out of his paw and into his heart. Alisonde swiftly started getting rid of the rest of the gang. She whipped around, whirling a bone knife that the entire horde including Poisonpaw feared. The milky white was stained with red as she whipped it around. A rat tried to sneak up on her but she stifled him with her tail until she had time to turn around and slay him. His last look was one of disgust from the taste of fox fur. Slowly, five creatures made their way to Poisonpaw. But Skipper of otters got there first. He ran to Poisonpaw, shoved the vole he was about to kill to safety, and started thwacking him with a loaded sling. Poisonpaw was startled at the ferocity of the attack, but retaliated quickly with his saber. The two inflicted powerful wounds on each other, but Poisonpaw was slowly being forced backwards. The end of and oven paddle swooped down, making Poisonpaw trip. He fell head-on into the bonfire, which by now was blazing merrily. Poisonpaw was on fire. He leaped up, screaming, and ran to the pond he jumped, diving into the deep end. He relaxed. He wasn’t on fire anymore. Then he started struggling again. He had forgotten to take a breath! He didn’t have any air in his lungs! He stopped writhing, water flooding his lungs. The last thing he saw was a large shadow blocking out the sunlight.

 

            The large grayling was happy and full. He had drifted up to the surface, looking for a snack, when one jumped on right in front of him. He had eaten it quickly, and sank back below the surface.

 

            Thus ended the life of Poisonpaw, warlord of the coasts, terror of the north seas, and almost conqueror of Redwall Abbey in Mossflower country.

 

Chapter 21

            The celebratory feast was one to remember. Fresh cheeses, spring salads, fresh baked bread and blueberry scones with meadowcream, and soups, followed by apple tarts, blueberry crumbles, trifles, cakes, pies, and all manner of preserved fruits and candied chestnuts. Celeste, Augusta, Timiny, and Alisonde were surprised by the different aromas that wafted around, spicy from the watershrimp n’ hotroot soup, sweet from preserved fruits, savory from the breads, and all manner of smells and scents. There were also entertainments, friends and strangers that you meet, but the best was the eating contests. Basil Stag Hare said that he should be the judge so it would be fair.

            The feast lasted for three days. By the fourth day not many belts were to be seen. The creatures of Redwall started tidying up the mess that the vermin had left behind. They also tidied up the vermin left behind. They were leaderless, unused to the land, and terrified. They were cleaned in the pond, given supplies for one day and sent off. If they came back, they’d die. Simple as that. Alisonde, Augusta, Celeste, and Timiny were given the chance to stay, but only Timiny accepted. He and the other slaves would live at Redwall. Alisonde wouldn’t like it, after traveling her whole life, and the Foeseekers thought it was too peaceful. They all promised to try to come back on special occasions, so hopefully they would all see each other again.

 

Epilogue

 

            Celeste and Augusta met Alisonde at the same birch where the two sisters first met. They spent the night there and got to Redwall early that morning. They were greeted with open arms. They helped with the last few preparations and then more guests started arriving. After the feast, the friends caught up on old times during a stroll around the walltops. They heard a small noise at the gate, and they looked down. They couldn’t see much, so they decided to investigate. Squirrels first, they walked down the stairs to the main gate. They unbarred it together and peeked out. It was a tiny mouse, barely old enough to walk, and probably an orphan. Larkspur immediately picked it up. “Aw, he’s so cute!” she crooned.

            “Let’s take him to the abbey,” suggested Alisonde.

            They walked through the grounds to the abbey. They walked through the door and immediately had a crowd around them. Exclamations rang out.

            “It’s a mousebabe!”

            “Hurr, he’m be a roight cutey!”

            “Look at his little paws!”

            “Glory be! He’s so thin! We should feed him!”

            “What do we name him?”

            The last remark brought a hush of thought in which everyone could hear the young mouse’s tiny, frail voice:

            “Please. I only wan’ some foo’ an’ water.”

            Then a cascade of names came pouring from every creature.

            “Sam!”

            “George!”

            “Let Larkspur decide!”

            “Fred!”

            Alisonde whispered something in Larkspur’s ear. Larkspur brightened up.

            “Matthias!”

            At that word, all other names ceased. The abbot worked his way through the crowd to Larkspur’s shoulder. “Matthias is a fine name, Alisonde. A fine name indeed.”

            Then, Celeste surprised everyone by crooning, “Hey there little Matthias, you hungry? Are you hungry? Let’s get you some food then. How does that sound?”

            There was a procession down to the kitchens as the mouse was led down to get some ‘foo’.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The End

           

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