User blog:Segalia/Segalia Riverstorm's voyage

Chapter 1
The ottermaid hefted the loaded sling in her paw. The weight was nice, comfortable. She raised it above her head and swung. Swish-wish-swish-swish, now! She released a strap and the stone flew. Bam! It hit the tree to the left of her target. As she reloaded her sling she considered. It wasn’t the target, but it was close. Pretty good.

She was about to raise her sling and start twirling when she heard a rustling in the bushes.

She turned. The sound came from near her bow and quiver. She had dropped them to come practice slinging. The young otter felt her waist. She didn’t have her dagger either. Oh no! What should she do? She could sneak inconspicuously to her weapons until she could grab them and use them. Or she could use the sling. Since she wasn’t accurate she would have to use it loaded.

The rustling suddenly stopped. The light brown maid turned quickly, moving closer to the bushes.

She saw a form. It could be a rat or a mouse or even a ferret, weasel or stoat. She edged closer when… Whoosh! She was tackled by a flying strong form from the opposite direction. She immediately kicked it off, when she hit the ground, with her strong hardened muscles. She swung her sling when she realized what the form was.

The Abbess sighed. A dibbun badger, very unusual, crawled on her lap. “Wot’is it, Mudder Abbess?”

Abbess Fern smiled wearily at the dibbun, Maben.

“Well nothing really. It’s just that it was such a bad harvest and winter is early and oh, I don’t know.” The young squirrel straightened up. “Well, we have to save as much possible from the harvest.” She headed to the orchard. Maben shivered in the gust of cold wind that came through the door. Then he turned around and headed for the dormitories to his sleeping companions.

Outside the Abbess ran into a young hedgehog maid named Korla. “Oops, sorry ma’am. Di’nt realize youse was there.” She backed away towards the frosted fruit trees.

“It’s alright. Well, what are we doing down…”

She was cut off mid-sentence. The bell ringer, a hefty male otter ran up shouting. “Ma’am, there’s a big thing out dere, of a bunch o’ creatures. I can’t tell what dey are!”

Abbess Fern struggled to remain calm. “So it could be a band of vermin, or just a bunch of hungry hares or other woodlanders.”

“Well yes ma’am.” He let out a small chuckle of relief, “but you better come see anyways. You might 'ave sharper eyes den me.” He led her away to the wall. The harvesters kept salvaging what was left in the bare orchard.



The prone figure of an otter lay nearby. A squirrel emerged from the bushes.

“Segalia! What did you do to him?” The squirrelmaid hurried to his side.

The squirrel didn’t see the otter, Lijel, cautiously open one eye and glance around, then close it again. Segalia moved her bow and quiver closer to her and put her dagger on her. She then put another stone in her sling and started swinging.

“Oh don’t worry, Ampanna. 'E’s just fakin’ it. 'E’ll be alright soon ‘nough.”

“Ok, whatever then. So how’s the slinging practice going?” The pale brown squirrel turned to watch Segalia.

“It’s ok. I’m definitely no expert.” She proved her words, by accidentally letting go at the wrong time and sending it towards Lijel. “Oops! Hee hee.” She giggled.

“Hey! What’cha do that for!?” The dark brown otter jerked upright.

“See, he’s fine.” Segalia whispered to Ampanna. To Lijel she said, “It was an accident. Now, can you get up, or do we haf’ta carry ya?”

Groaning, he stood up and stretched. “Hey Segalia! You shoulda seen yo face. Youse was so scared! Hee hee hee”

“Yeah right, Lijel. Now why're you guys here at all?”

“Well, I wanted to come see you practice. Yore mom wants ye to come 'ome, and Lijel came h'along so we could ambush ya.” Ampanna hung out with the otters a lot and was picking up some of their speech.

“Ok then.” Segalia picked up all her stuff. “Race ya home!” She shot off, Lijel right behind her. Ampanna started running after her friends, back to the holt.

Chapter 2
-11 years ago-

A stoat shivered as cold winds blew around him into his ragged tent. He heard a call. Grumbling, he got to his feet. He forced himself out of the tent and over to another. “T’ain’t right! I shouldn’t hafta move in the middle of da snowstorm. What does he want now!?”

In a well furnished tent with plush pillows and chairs and even a fire, there sat Grovelum the Malevolent, a fox. He controlled a band of mixed vermin, sea and land, and he had a small family as well. His wife sat next to him petting his head. The stoat entered.

“Ah, Captain Dir. Come in. Sit down.” Captain Dir found a pillow next to the fire and sat down.

“So why’d you call me here, Grovelum?” Grovelum ignored the informality and got right into it, speaking in his neat, proper voice.

“We need a kingdom. I have learned of many other vermin kings and queens who tried to take, the shore mountain,Salamandastron, or the abbey with red walls, Redwall I believe. They couldn’t and failed. But I have learned of another place: it is a grand inland lake, with an island. From there we could rule all of Mossflower Woods. As far as I know, no one lives there but some pikes who could help guard the lake. What do you think?”

The captain was a bit slow in taking this all in, “So, you don’t want the Sa-,Sal-, moun’ain,” Grovelum shook his head, “or da Wadrell place. And you want a lake?”

Grovelum sighed. Captain Dir stiffened. When Grovelum sighed you knew trouble was coming. “No, Dir. There is a big island on the lake, where we could rule. You would be second in command in all of Mossflower. My wife and I would be king and queen. You would have great power, or since you can’t understand that shall we demote you?!!” His voice suddenly rose.

“Nnno, I-I understand p-p-pperfectl-lly.” The stoat bowed so low, shaking, that his head fur was singed in the fire. He jerked upright nodding.

“Very well then. You are dismissed. We break camp in the morning.”

The fox turned to his wife then said something hard to hear. Dir left the tent. Grovelum’s wife, Oxos nodded and pointed in the direction of the corner. He went to the corner of the tent and picked up two baby foxes. They were a boy and girl and slumbered peacefully. He gently rocked them back and forth murmuring to them. He went and sat next to his wife who licked his cheek. The fox family sat lovingly together midst the grand roaring storm.


 * Forward in time again**

Chapter 3
Ampanna raced into the camp, panting after her friends. They had entered and were leaning against some trees.

Ampanna came up to them, "Segalia, don't forget to talk to yore mom."

"Oh yeah." She straightened up from the tree and headed to the huts.

Ampanna and her mom lived with the otter holt. They set up huts made of grass and branches-secure and easy to put up. They were traveling, every few weeks, closer to Redwall Abbey.

Every week they had one big community dinner and the rest of the nights were at home.

Lijel usually hang out with other kids not Ampanna and Segalia.

Segalia exited from the huts. "Okay mom, see ya tonight!"

"Well, what shall we do, should we play a game, get otherbeasts together to play one, climb this here tree, or go swimming?"

"This tree!? This tree has no branches till ten feet up! How're we supposed to climb that?" Lijel exclaimed.

Segalia laughed, "We stand on yore head and shoulders, and stretch and jump..."

"And kill me in the process." Lijel mumbled.

Ampanna said "Swimming sounds good."

Lijel said, "Nah, I don't wanna swim. I think I'm gonna go."

Segalia and Ampanna fell in step wtih him, "Where?"

"Away from you two. Augh!" He took a step back and they followed.

"Stop it! He started chasing them and they ran laughing.

Grovelum, now a king, had accomplished his plan and conquered the island. There had been a few pathetic birds and rats but they had been thrown to the Teeth of the Deeps or submitted to his army. Some, though, he kept as farmers and collected some harvest each year. He didn't own slaves because he knew that that would be just leading to his destruction. His wife owned maids but they had a small(very small) pay. He had also taken a while traveling from the foothills of the Northern Mountains to the Great Inland Lake and also getting to the island through the Teeth of the Deeps and the ospreys.

He sat happily on his comfy padded chair that served as a throne. He had been ruling the island for, let's see, about nine years now. He, unlike most vermin lords, had patience, so he took his time asserting his power over the island. Soon he would start conquering Redwall Abbey from his island stronghold. His ears pricked at the sound of pattering footpaws and soon his daughter, closely followed by his son, appeared around the corner into the throne room.

Hi dad!" shouted his thirteen-season old daughter, Selra, who was ducking and avoiding her brother, Riplar, who was flailing his wet arm at her. Riplar was about the same height as his sister and the same age. That was about all that was similar. Riplar was a black fox with green eyes. Selra was an orange/gray/red fox with brilliant blue eyes.

"Selra, Riplar, what is it? Selra, why is he trying to hit you?" Grovelum asked them patiently.

Riplar answered for his sister, "She!" he pointed a quivering paw at his sister, "Threw me in the lake and the Teeth of the Deep nearly ate me!"

He tried to tackle his sister who evaded him. "Why, Riplar, I'm surprised she caught you. How did she manaage that?" He looked at his fighting kids with loving amusement in his eyes.

"She tricked me! She pushed me in after she tricked me into looking at a "sea monster"." Selra was laughing so hard she was nearly crying. She doubled over with laughter, enabling Riplar to tackle her, sending her crashing to the stone floor. She laughed breathlessly. Grovelum was just rising out of his seat, when in gracefully floated his wife, Oxos. She a blue/gray speckled fox, separated the quarreling cubs. She scolded them, though not severely. Soon the cubs scampered off again.

Oxos strode up to her husband. They talked of business and other random things. All in all, it was a peaceful lighthearted environment.

Abbess Fern looked out from the battlements to the "form". She frowned slightly and the bellringer, Wraltor looked at her anxiously.

"What is it? Can you tell? I 'ope it's not vermin. I don't be good at battling vermin. Don't wanna actually kill a beast." He started rambling. Abbess Fern's tail suddenly stood straight up. Wraltor looked nervously at her and she broke out in a laugh.

"It's nobeast bad; it's just the Guosim. Let them in." She started scurrying down the steps. Wraltor raced after her, nearly setting the young squirrel off her footpaws. As soon as she was in hearing distance of the salvaging group, she started barking out orders.

"Who's the fastest beast here?" A small squirrel shot up her paw at the same time as a young mole shot up his.

"Go and tell the chefs and Sister Paldra to prepare a feast. Guosim are coming!"

"Race ya!" the squirrelmaid shot off quickly followed by the mole who moved surprisingly fast. That taken care of, Fern cast an eye over the orchards. "That's good for now. Bring it in to the kitchens and somebeast arrange the Dibbuns into some presentable order."

Wraltor creaked the gates open and soon short, spiky furred creatures poured in. A very long-snouted shrew came up to the Abbess and saluted.

"Hello! I am Log-a-log Lior. We Guosim came here to bring you this here beast," Some shrews shoved forward a brown beast. It was hard to tell what it was. He was so covered with scabbards, daggers, vambraces, stilletos and swords that you could scarcely see his tattered tunic underneath. On his back there was a bow and a quiver as well. There were spikes embedded in his tail. He was strong looking and the five shrews could barely hold him.

"Well, who are you?" Abbess Fern's voice quivered a bit as she spoke, but she stood strong.

"I...I be's an otter! But these 'ere beasts can't tell th'difference 'tween friend and foe and captured me." The beast growled at the shrews.

"Log-a-log Lior!" Fern reprimanded. "Why did you capture him?"

"Look, could you tell 'e was an otter when you first laid eye on 'im?" He retorted.

"No, but that is no reason to capture him. Release him!" The shrews obeyed and Abbess Fern started questioning the otter.

"What is your name, otter, and how were you captured?"

"Me name be Silverfalcon Pikehawk. H'I was on me ship, the Daggerhawk, when these 'ere beasts boarded me ship, claimin' Ah was a vermin and overwhelmed me."

They continued talking as she led him gently into the Abbey.

Chapter 4
Segalia leaped and did a flip, landing in the water. Bubbles swirled around, tickling her and catching in her fur. As soon as her footpaws touched the floor of the river, she leaped into the air, twisting, and landed, hitting the water with her paw, making a big splash. She did this again and again, leaping and hitting. Finally she stopped and surveyed her surroundings.

She was in the River Moss, framed by tall trees. The holt had stopped here for just a bit of grub and rest. They had been traveling all morning and now the elders were deciding how to get across the River with the young'uns. The young'uns and the older kids had gone swimming in the river.

As Segalia surveyed the confusing, yet fun, scene, she spotted a good climbing tree. An idea flashed through her mind and she swam smoothly to the shore. The tree was a flamboyant, a rare tree in these parts. It was a very good climbing tree and had bright red flowers when in bloom. At the moment, it had beautiful green leaves. It had branches that were easily in reach.

Segalia pulled her dripping form out of the water onto the bank. She stole quietly to the tree and quickly clambered up it. She climbed up a ways then found a sturdy branch that stretched out over the river. She made sure there was no one directly underneath, then she jumped.

"Riverstorm!" She yelled cannonballing into the water. Ampanna was standing on the opposite bank tending to a young otter. Segalia plunged into the water creating a humongous splash. She whooped with joy while Ampanna shook herself madly, dripping wet.

Segalia emerged from the water and saw Ampanna soaking wet; as she was helping the elders she did not want to get wet. She burst out laughing and so did Lijel.

"Sorry, Ampanna. I didn't mean to." Segalia tried to apologize but then collapsed in a burst of giggles. Some of the other otters were laughing too. Soon the elders called them in. It was time to eat, then they were moving on.

Captain, now General Dir sighed contentedly and took another swig of grog. None of the crew had minded moving super slowly from the Northern Mountains. They liked the island where they had free roam. None of the soldiers complained. The fish was easy to catch, there was plenty of room, no need to fight and lots of food. General Dir remembered that snowy night when he had heard the plans to take over this island and then over Mossflower. Soon some of the soldiers would start wanting to fight. He would tell King Grovelum and then plans would commence to attack the Wedrall place or the mountain. At least so he hoped.

The strange otter had been given a hot supper and a bed in the dormitories. Abbess Fern pondered what he had told her. He had been raised by a Juska tribe. He had somehow escaped from them and made his way into Mossflower as a good unequaled warrior. When he was going around the Great Inland Lake with his ship, the Daggerhawk, he had spotted something very unsettling. The abandoned castle, from the time period of the Marlfoxes, was not abandoned any more. A fox family had taken over it. Apparently the warlord had a huge mixed army.

Abbess Fern knew that there was a possibility that he could easily take over Redwall Abbey if he wanted to, or Salamandastron for that matter. Their attack capabilities were limited so they should settle for defense; but winter had come early and they had hardly anything from their orchard harvest. The pond was frozen so they was no fish and only water that was broken out and melted. Maybe they had a lot stored up in the Cellar.

She leaped to her feet. She would ask Cellarkeeper Jagjo how much was stored up. She walked efficiently across Cavern Hole and went down the steps into the cellar. As her eyes adjusted to the dim light, she heard scurrying and whispering. She spotted Maben in the light of a small, dusty window, being held up by some of his dibbun friends, trying to get into a barrel of dandelion fizz.

"Dibbuns!" her voice rang out sharply and clearly. The startled dibbuns crashed to the ground in a big heap. "What are you doing in here, alone, trying to steal precious drink?!"

"Sowwy Mudder Abbess." They said, heads bowed. Maben's shoulders started shaking. Abbess Fern started to think she was a bit too harsh and that Maben was crying. His companions were the molebabe and the squirrelmaid, as well as a baby hedgehog. The hedgehog had gotten stuck to the wooden barrel when they fell and she was stranded in the middle of the air. She had fallen on the back side of the barrel and though the abbess couldn't see her, her friends could. She was Korla's little sister and they were the Cellarkeeper's daughters.

"Maben, are you crying?" The abbess asked sounding more tenderly. The other dibbuns started laughing as well, their whole bodies shaking. Soon great hiccuping laughter came.

"Why, what are you all laughing like that at? And where's Katya, isn't she normally with you?"

Finally the molebabe got enough breath back to explain to the squirrel abbess, who was getting madder by the second, in his quaint molebabe speech. "Well marm, you stoitled us gurtly and Katya fell and she'm be stoick to the bawwel, boi her spoikes."

"Oh." Her anger vanished quickly but not totally. She strode to the barrel and saw Katya. She was wriggling and wriggling but her "spoikes" were stuck firmly in. The abbess leaned down and gently, being careful to avoid her spikes, pulled her out. The dibbun sank wearily to the floor and straightened her blue dress.

"Thankee kindly, Mudder Abbess."

"Now, Maben, what mischief were you performing? Why were you stealing from the Cellars?" She crossed her arms and stared at Maben, tapping her footpaw.

"Wewl, we's was thiwsty Mudder." He looked pleadingly up at her.

"You could have gone to the kitchens."

"Sista Paldwa chased us out."

"And why did she do that? Sister Paldra is a sensible head cook. She wouldn't chase you out for no reason."

"We...weren't doin' nuthin'." Maben stared at the floor, scuffing his footpaws.

She turned her gaze towards the squirrelmaid, the molebabe and Katya. Katya bent wearily under the pressure. "We's was steawing pies from de windowsill. Den when we came for a dwink, she said no. So Maben said we should come here for a dwink. Jagjo was teachin' Korwa about bein' Cewwarhog, den dey weft, so we came to get a dwink."

"Okay, Katya, you can go. So can you two" She motioned to the mole and squirrel babes who slunk after Katya. Maben started to slink after them when Abbess Fern stopped him.

"You stay. I think I'll put you on Abbot's Report."

"Bud why, Mudder Abbess? I was just 'ungwy and tirsty and Sista Padwa was bein' mean! Dat's an unfair weason te put me on weport!" He cried indignantly.

Abbess Fern was firm. There was an early winter, an enemy coming and hardly any supplies and this dibbun thought he could get away with stealing supplies. She grabbed him and they left the Cellars.

Chapter 5
The youngest otters were getting tired of being in the wagons that carried them, the weak, the old and the supplies. Bickering started.

"Don't touch me!"

"I din't! I was h'over 'ere!" The accused squealed indignantly.

"Then who could h'it 'ave been?! Yore the cwosest one!"

"It was Ema! She touched ye wiv dat stick!"

The angry young'un, who was nearly old enough to walk instead of ride, was sick of the other infants and turned on Ema. "Why'd ye 'it me!"

The simpering Ema fluttered her eyelashes innocently. "'it ye? Why would Ah want to do dat?"

"Then," Danuk, the oldest, was nearly boiling now, "who was it?!"

Ema shrugged. "H'I don't know, maybe it was Lijel."

Danuk shrank at the prospect. Lijel was a bigger boy. What would happen if he accused him? Plus who cared about being touched with a stick. He lay back against some sacks and crossed his arms.

Lijel heard the whole argument and grinned. Spying Segalia, he ran up to her.

"Remember when we used to fight like that?"

She turned to him, a questioning look, though smiling, on her face. "Used to? What'er you talking about? We still do. Ye're still the same annoying kid ye were when ye were that age." She gestured vaguely at the wagon, pulled alternatingly by grownups and the older kids.

"Annoying?! I'll show you annoying!" He took a gourd from a pouch around his waist and sprayed water at her. Shouting, she ducked and charged him.



Oxos came into the room that was used for clothes: the making of, the washing of and the drying of. She sighed. Half of the clothes that she had sent in this morning were not done.

"MAIDS!" She yelled. It echoed through the dusty halls and soon a flurry of paws could be heard. The last one there would have to do the job, and if they didn't do it well...they shuddered to think of it. Nails scraped against the stone ramps that were everywhere in the castle and shoving commenced as the ragged maids forced their way to the clothes room.

They gathered themselves into a semblance of a line and saluted. A few others straggled in. Oxos counted carefully. Two were missing. More patting was heard and then a bird of prey flew past a vole, who consequently tripped and somersaulted to the queen's feet.

The unfortunate vole, named Lavinia, crouched, in a threadbare blue tunic, at the pedicured footpaws. One of the footpaws started tapping up and down.

Finally Oxos spoke. “Well I would say that,” she took a look at her nails on her paw, “that you, what’s your name? Oh yes, Lavender or something. Well, I would guess that you are the maid to do my duty. You may go,“ she gestured with her pink manicured paws at the other maids then turned back to Lavinia.

“Next time you land on my feet and enter that ungracefully again, I’ll have you whipped forty times. Now,” the vole had started shaking all over; she bit her tongue hard to stop from crying out. “You have been called here to do the laundry which should have been done when it was taken this morning. Do it well...or else!” The queen’s voice escalated until it ended in a screech. Calming herself, she turned to leave. “Oh and one last thing, if it’s not done in say around thirty-two minutes, I’ll have you flogged anyways.” With that she left Lavinia to the task of washing, drying and folding the humungous pile of laundry.



Abbess Fern had elected a Council that helped with different dealings. She decided to kill two birds with one stone and discuss the war and Maben’s punishment. Sister Paldra (the head cook), Jagjo (the cellarhog) and several other abbey members made up the council. The role of Skipper was filled by whichever holt was in the Abbey at the time. Soon the Weasprears would be here and their Skipper could help with war plans, if needed.

She went to Cavern Hole dragging Maben behind her. The rest of the council knew to meet her there and was already there. She sat Maben down next to the recorder, a female boxing hare named Howlia.

Howlia winked at the Dibbun, “Don’t move a blooming inch and ye’ll get a bally candied chestnut later. Would ye like that?”

Maben smiled. “H’I greatwy wike candy chesknutters.”

“Well if ye behave ye can get one, wot!” She said.

Maben tried to sit up as straight and serious as he could. Howlia nodded approvingly and got ready to record the meeting.

Abbess Fern observed this and smiled. She had a soft spot for the dibbuns; she just had to be stern with them sometimes. She spoke in a voice that was full of commanding and kindness, a good combination for an Abbess. “We are gathered here today to discuss the punishment of a certain Dibbun,” She glared at Maben who smiled innocently at her, “and a warning we heard from a passing otter. First we should discuss the punishment so he won’t have to sit through the Council meeting.”

“What’d he do?” Howlia wanted to know.

“He was pinching pies from my kitchen!” cried the indignant mouse chef.

“And I hear ‘e was stealing me drinks.” Jagjo glared suspiciously at the badger babe.

“’E be a good Dibbun. Do nut be too hard on ‘im, burr.” said Goodwife Burna, a mole who was the infirmary keeper and took care of the Dibbuns.

Abbess Fern put up her paw for silence. “I’m not quite sure you understand the seriousness of the situation. The winter came early. We have barely any supplies. Silverfalcon Pikehawk came to tell us that there is a big vermin army waiting to seize Redwall Abbey. If they laid siege on us, we could scarcely defend ourselves, much less, survive the winter. This is no time to be stealing supplies.” She glared at Maben.

“Marm, ‘ow was ‘e supposed to bally know that? We didn’t even know that." Howlia pointed out. "You should let ‘im off lightly.”

“He shouldn’t be stealin’ in the first place.” Sister Paldra said.

“Well, yes ‘e should be punished for that, wot, but ‘e didn’t know there was a blooming shortage of the supplies.” The recorder defended him.

“Then,” the Abbess said the word with force, “We are all agreed that he should have a medium to light punishment. Any suggestions?”

Ideas rang out.

“Scrub all the pots and pans!”

“Clean the pond!”

Howlia raised her paw quietly. “How ‘bout we give a bath and early bedtime tonight and tomorrer ‘e can help me in the Gatehouse, sorting records?” There were grunts of agreement all around.

“Then that’s what we shall do. Maben, you are dismissed.” The squirrel leader waited as the Dibbun scampered off, unsure of what to think about his punishment. “Now about the war and possible threat. This is what I know…”

Chapter 6
A shimmering red dragonfly skimmed the River Moss, which was green from the reflection of nature. Gnarled oaks were framed by willowy birches, maples and acachias. Weeping willows spread long branches and shadowed the shrubbery, which was made up of nettles and wildflowers, standing side by side. Segalia sat in a canoe, with her paddle on her lap, resting in a slower part of the river. She thought back to the recent occurrences.

She had charged at Lijel and he had flown backwards, startled, right into the wagon. She had clapped a paw over her mouth in astonishment and decided to make herself scarce. An ottermum had started to make her way after her when a shout had stopped her. “We’re ‘ere! We’ve reached th’olt!”

Cheers had risen all around. Finally the otters could revert to their natural habitat, the water. They had arrived at Skipper Rosethorn’s holt. She led the Aquafaura holt, a holt that typically stayed at a dock in the River Moss. Other holts could use their dock, like Segalia’s holt, the Weasprears. The Weasprears kept their ships and boats alike at the dock, like the ship that Segalia had helped to make and was practically her own, the Silver Falcon. The Aquafaura otters started running out to greet them. Having arrived, Segalia had quickly scouted about for her dad. “Pa? Kin we ride the river in the Silver Falcon’s canoes?”

"Shure thing, ‘oney. Ye know what to do.”

A sudden bump, made of bumping into the bank and a sudden thrust from Ampanna, jolted Segalia back to the present.

“Lookit what yore doing, Seg!” Ampanna yelled from behind her. Segalia rolled her eyes and used her paddle to push off from the bank. Soon they were speeding along, with the aid of the current and their paddles. At another jolt, Segalia turned. There were Lijel and one of his good friends Josham in a canoe of their own.

“Wanna race?” They asked with big grins on their face.

Segalia turned to Ampanna. “I don’t h’even know why they ask. They know they’ll lose.”

“So sure ‘bout that?” Josham asked threateningly.

“Bring it.” Ampanna responded. With a shout and a splash, the race was on.



Screams echoed around the slanting ramps as the whip slashed across Lavinia’s scarred and tender back. She bit her lip to try to stop from releasing another scream. The whip cracked and fell back on her back again. A whimper escaped the clenched mouth and resonated in the ears of Grovelum who was out in the grounds.

“Dir!” he called out, ignoring the pained vole’s cries. The stoat commander strode majestically up, his black and purple cape flapping behind him.

“Yes, yore majestae?”

“Put your soldiers through some maneuvers. I want to see how good they are.” The stoat started leaving.

“Wait!” The king held up his paw. “Tell my…” He put his paw to his mouth in concentration. “ My statistician to come to me.” He waved Dir away and was left to his thoughts. Why did he want Redwall, when he had this nice big fortress here? So that he could control all the land from different strategic points and that would be one of them. But all the warlords failed miserably when they tried. The statistician had valuable information for him that could lead to success. How was he going to start his campaign? By sending scouts out and making the soldiers battle ready. But so many warlords went insane when they tried. He had a calm head and would not do that.

As he was having this mental battle, his statistician, a small female loyal wolverine came up, her long aqua-blue tunic floating about her thin form. She held in her arms, a big stack of papers, parchments, scrolls, books and various scribblings. She waited patiently for King Grovelum to notice her. She organized her thoughts and her stack. The fox turned to her. “So, my faithful Malrua, what do you have for me?”

She smiled, an evil glimmer in her eyes. “Ah think ye’ll like it. Ken we go someplace where dere’s a table?”

He nodded and turned on his footpaw, his dark blue cloak swirling about him. She trotted after him, explaining some of the information in her light Higlander accent. “Ah’ve got a wee bit about Salamandastron, and a couple maps of the area. Ah’ve got lots of maps of th’rest of Mossflower and Ah think ye’ll like this.” She held up a piece of paper. "It's the account of the Marlfox, yore wive's ancesta's, when they attacked Redwall. They managed to get in. 'N dis one is about two hordes dat got in, Badredd an' Raga Bol. Dis will 'elp us get in. The scouts kin fill in da rest." Now it was his turn to smile wickedly.

Segalia was glad to have finally arrived at the Abbey. Standing in the orchard she gazed at the big reddish building, graced by trees and walls. She looked around and spotted an otter that she didn’t recognize. She hadn’t been here in a few seasons so it was logical that she wouldn’t know everybeast. She decided to introduce herself to him. She walked over.

“Hi! I’m Segalia. Who’re you?”

The male otter looked to be bit older than her, was very tattoed and carried a lot of weapons. He turned towards her voice. “’I! H’I’m Silverfalcon.”

A sudden change came over Segalia’s face. “What’d you say yore name was?”

Now he was getting puzzled. He repeated himself slowly. “Silver...falcon…Pike...hawk.” Segalia was stunned. “Why?” He asked.

“You see, I ‘ave me a ship. It’s name is Silver Falcon as well.”

Now it was his jaw’s turn to drop open. “Seriously?”

“Yeah…I called it dat because I’ve always h’admired falcons. Ye know they’re so strong and fierce…and I’ve always liked the color silver. So h’I named it the Silver Falcon. Why were ye named dat?”

“Well me parents saw dat h’I ‘ad dese silver wings on da back o’ me paws and dat h’I was brown like a falcon.”

Segalia nodded, understanding. Lijel bounded over.

“Who’s this?”

“Get this, ‘is name’s Silverfalcon!” Segalia exclaimed.

Lijel nodded thoughtfully. “Cool. 'ey, ‘ow’d ye get all those tattoos?”

Silverfalcon was starting to feel embarrassed and was happy to explain his unique tattoos. “See, when h’I was younger, me ‘olt was slain and h’I was captured by the Juskasie t’be their Taggurung.”

Lijel’s eyes widened. “Cool! Like Deyna?”

“Yeah, ‘e’s one o’ me ancestors, by the way.”

“Sweet! H’I don’t know iffen I got any cool ancestors like that.”

“Yeah. So why’re you two ‘ere?”

Segalia welcomed the chance to talk again. “ Our ‘olt, the Weasprears, comes ‘ere every few seasons. Oh and by the way, ‘is name is Lijel.” Silverfalcon nodded thoughtfully, when another otter ran up. To Segalia’s dismay it was another boy, not a girl. She decided she could still be friendly to him.

“Ahoy! Wot’s yore name?”

He tossed his head and the fur that had grown over his eyes. “I’m Wraltor, bellringer of the Abbey, at yore service.” He did a little bow then asked, “Who are you?”

“I’m Segalia Riverstorm of Holt Weasprear and this is Lijel.” Lijel was smiling at the newcomer. Two new boy otters in one day! Josham had departed somewhere, when he had spotted a pretty flirty otter named Galiram who resided at the Abbey. It would be nice to have new friends.

Chapter 7
A proud chickadee fluffed his new colorful feathers and twittered and trilled a few bars. Suddenly he stopped and peered down at an unusual sight. A young female badger, not very big, was walking fairly gracefully down the path through Mossflower Woods. Every once in a while she would stop and cut a herb with her knife and put it in her basket. Carma (pronounced S-R-muh), as she was called, had lost her parents at a young age. They were not dead, maybe, but she had no idea where they were. She had been raised by her aunt and uncle with her cousins. Some of her cousins were alright, but the others were brats. Her guardians had grown tired of her and decided to let her go off on her own into the world. She was fine with that.

Up ahead the peace and quiet was abruptly shattered, when she heard a thin reedy voice cry out, “No! Please, don’t hurt me! I have no money! Please leave us alone!” Carma, curious though frightened, came cautiously towards the sound.

A harsh voice interrupted the cry, “Us? Oh ho ho, so dere’re more o’ ye?” “Oh no,” the thin stammering voice corrected, “There’s just me alone in this poor hut by the river. All alone.”

Carma peeked through some leaves to the source of the voices. A small group of vermin were bothering a poor young female vole. She was crying, or so it seemed into a pair of thin bony hands. A pine marten, who seemed to be the leader and the owner of the other voice, was poking her in her ribs with his sword.

“Come, come now.” He snarled through a toothy smile, “Ah know ye got someting of worth on ye.” Carma looked at herself. What could she use to defend this poor vole? She only had a stiletto to defend herself with, and it was dull from cutting plants. It was all she had though and she would make the most of it. She took a deep breath, yelled and charged.

“Yaarrrgh! Rooosehiiip!” She didn’t think about what she was yelling, but just charged, waving her dagger. Half of the vermin, having had an occasional clash with a badger, ran, tripping over themselves.

“Fools! You mangy smelly scoundrels! You slack-gutted, mop-pawed foolish nuisances! Get back ‘ere!” The pine marten yelled angrily. “You’re the scouts of King Grovelum! You don’t run!”

Carma barely heard this and registered it for later. She did not feel like stabbing him in the back while he was turned, so instead she took the nearest ferret and in the way she knew best(cutting herbs), held him with one paw and chopped off his head. She stood, as if in a dream, watching his head roll slowly down his body, which in turn slumped to the ground, spurting blood everywhere.

The pine marten turned back, and saw the wild badger standing in a daze. This would be a perfect time to kill him…or her? As his sword went for her head, a spear shot in front of his face, blocking the thrust. Who could that be? He glanced wildly around then his eyes landed on the pathetic vole. She didn’t look pathetic any more, wildly brandishing a spear…that was aimed… for his heart. He was so shocked he had not time to react before he died. The rest of the vermin saw and ran.

The clang of sword on spear had been enough to dull the raw edges of Carma’s shock. She stared blearily at the volewife. The vole threw away the spear. “As you can see I took care of myself.”

Insulted, but not surprised Carma replied, “Yes I can tell by your shrieking and pleading earlier.” Her slightly incoherent words tripped over each other.

The vole ran her eyes over the young badger, noting the shock, age and weariness of long travel. Her heart softened. “Come, come. My name is Nottenc O’Chubbacutch. Come in.” She entered the den as if nothing had happened.

The badgermaid trudged after her, fighting shock and tiredness. She forgot to duck as she entered and nearly fell. Nottenc steadied her.

“You better lie down.” She said, steering her over to a rock couch, covered in moss. “I’ll make ye some soup.” The vole bustled happily around the small den preparing the food.

Carma was hunched over, shivering, reliving the gruesome fall of the head from body. Nottenc finished the soup and picked up a bottle and put some of the soup in it.

Half unconscious but still indignant Carma muttered, “I no need bottle.”

Nottenc chuckled. “No, but if you keep talking like that, you’ll sound like who it’s for.” She went over to a hidden alcove and pulled out a bin. She reached down and pulled out a baby vole. It started whimpering. She gave it the bottle and bounced up and down, whistling a tune.

Carma’s ears perked up and she stopped trembling as much. She ate some more soup and cheered up some more. “M-m-my mom used to sing that to me. How does it go again?” With pauses in between stanzas for repeats Nottenc sang,

Flee!

Fleefly!

 Fleeflyflow!

Vista!

Cumalaw, cumalaw, cumalaw vista!

Oh no, no, no not the vista.

Eeniemeaniedecimeanieooalawalameanieeeniemeaniedecimeanieooalawa!

Ababasquat now what a chow!

A beepbodiobobabodibo shh.

(A/N:I did not make up this song, I learnt it at a camp)

Carma had now recovered and she came over.

“So cute! What’s their name? Where’s the dad?”

Nottenc laughed. “So many questions! I assume you feel better. Her dad was taken by the same vermin as who just attacked me.” She frowned unhappily. “But anyway, what’s your name?”

“Oh Carma, ma’am.”

“Okay then, Carma meet Mumzillia O'Chubbacutch. Mumzy meet Carma.”

“Can I hold her?” Carma asked tentatively.

“Of course dearie!” She handed over the squirming babe to Carma.

As Carma rocked the volebabe back and forth she commented, “You know, yore one of the nicest voles I’ve ever met.”

“Well, did ever notice that vole is an anagram of love? I know, it’s surprising. Voles have a naturally stubborn attitude and some resist the notion of being love as much as possible.”

Carma grunted in agreement, remembering some of the voles she’d met on her travels.

“My name is an anagram of content. So I try to act like ‘content love’, though sometimes my vole side takes the better of me.” Nottenc chuckled. “So why is someone as young as yourself wandering around the woods alone?” Carma related her tale to the sleeping Mumzy and her mom as night fell.

King Grovelum had surveyed, examined, pored over documents, analyzed details and finally decided with the aid of a small piece of paper he now had in his paw as he sat on his throne that doubled as a desk. It (the paper) came from a document called The Warlord Guide, What and What NOT To Do For the Aspiring Conqueror (Thanks Hyena42!). Malrua had somehow dug it up somewhere, but it had been dreadfully burned so that all that was left was: Kill the Skipper, Log-a-log and all Squirrels, followed by the reasons.

He had decided that his soldiers (especially his snipers) were in good enough condition to try an attack. His scouts had informed him that there were lots of squirrels, the Skipper and the Log-a-log at Redwall (and a nasty volewife and badger out in the woods). Even if it failed he would hopefully have picked off a decent amount of squirrels and possibly the Log-a-log (what kind of name was that?) or the Skipper. It was basically a win-win situation. And besides, while they were doing that, some scouts could go check if the accounts were right in telling how you got past the gates.

“Dir!” His voice echoed through the island. His general marched up.

“Yes?”

“Prepare your soldiers, especially your sniping units.”

“Snipin’ units?”

“Yes, artillery, you know slingers, spearbeasts, archers etc. The whole bologna! Tell the cook to make supplies for a, say, a week or so for the unit. We leave at dawn.” With that, he put away the desk table, rose and went to inform his wife of the newest arrangements.

Dir stood there a few moments. Now that he understood, he could put his strategic mind to work. He mentally started picking the best “snipers”. Finally action. He went to the fairly spacious rooms (not just because the army was slightly small) for the archers first.

“Rongear, Niceun, and um, yes you, wot’s yore name ‘gain?”

The small wiry weasel he pointed at, stood and stretched. “Ungbar’s me name, shootin’s me game, and h’am I glad t’get back t’fightin’!”

“Yeah! Yay! Aye!” The other chosen agreed heartily while the ones not chosen grumbled jealously.

“’O ever said we was fightin’?” Dir barked. The clamor died down with puzzled looks. Dir stood with his paws on his hips, stern. Then he cackled and grinned toothily. “We leave fo’ Redwall at dawn! We’ll be shootin’ down sum Abbeybeasts!”

The shouts resumed with all force, along with slapping each other on the backs and high-fiving.

Dir smirked in agreement and went to the next hut.

It was a few days later and Paldra hummed as she moseyed around the kitchen, completing different tasks and aiding her kitchen apprentices. Naraudo(N-uh-raw-doe), a young reddish handsome squirrel was busy cutting nuts for an almond pear flan. She watched him critically for a few seconds then said, “They need to be cut a bit thinner. Otherwise you’re doing well. Do you think we should have lunch outside today?” Naraudo looked up from his work, out the window to the yard considering. “Well, seems to be a pretty nice day. Not too much sun, but it don’t look like snow or rain, though it’ll probably be cold. D’ye want me t’help bring the tables out with me big muscles?” He winked while flexing his average to small sized biceps.

She laughed and shooed him with her apron. “Ahh, sure go. Anything to get away with ye.”

He smiled, quickly dropping his apron and knife, happy to be out of the hot kitchens. Enlisting aid from Jagjo and the skipper of the Weasprears, Joncho (J-on-ko) and a few of the otters and some squirrels, they set to work moving tables out to the grounds. They chattered back and forth happily between grunts.

Blissfully crouched in a tree out of sight from the grounds, Ungbar carefully chose an arrow to nock. The first target seemed to be the red squirrel, since he couldn’t quite remember the other targets. Now, if only he would get into his range.

Ampanna emerged from the orchards, closely followed by Segalia with baskets somewhat full of frost-bitten fruits. They conversed happily, despite the slightly dismal place from whence they came. Ungbar regarded this new squirrel with interest. She could probably do some harm and she seemed to be closer in range. He drew back his arrow. Naraudo couldn’t seem to shake the feeling that they were being watched. Maybe it was something to do with new threat. He doubted the threat would come to anything. Abbess Fern was probably just being paranoid. He shook himself to try and clear his head, attempting to concentrate on the cheerful banter surrounding him.

The weasel archer took careful aim and fired. The goose feather-fletched arrow seemed to move in slow motion. Naraudo’s head whipped up and with a cry he dropped his end of the table and charged slowly towards Ampanna. Ampanna seem confused as to what was happening. Segalia heard a strange sound and looked up. “Noooo!” The sound tore from her lips into the cold air. The arrow seemed to be getting closer all the time. Naraudo couldn’t let this pretty young squirrel get hurt so he leaped and braced himself.

Suddenly it was all over. Ampanna was safe, knocked out of the arrow’s path by this brave red squirrel. Naraudo, on the other paw, was bleeding from a shoulder wound. The squirrelmaid tried to regain her breath. Segalia, stunned as she was, rushed to her friend’s side. Checking that she was okay, she looked over at her friend’s rescuer.

“Thank you,” she said, then started as she realized he was wounded. “Somebeast run and get Goodwife Burna!”

As all this commotion was accuring, Ungbar was nocking another arrow. Though he hadn’t gotten his original goal, he had still shot a squirrel, and there were plenty more chances. He signaled to his companions, who were crouched in nearby trees. They nodded and passed on the message: Attack at all force.

In a few seconds the grounds were bombarded with slingshots, javelins and arrows. Maids shrieked, males shouted, beasts ran and chaos reigned. Ampanna shoved Naraudo out of the way of another arrow.

He smiled up at her. “Thanks”.

“No problem. ‘Sides, you saved me.” Together they helped each other limp over to the red-tinged building, dodging screaming Abbeybeasts.

Chapter 8
Carma’s eyes blinked open, shut, then flickered open again. She examined her surroundings slowly, taking them all in. She seemed to be in a small earthen hut somewhere. Her forehead creased. Oh yes! Memories of the previous day suddenly flooded back in: fighting and meeting the vole. Where was Nottenc anyways?

She slowly sat up and stretched. She heard a noise and turned. There was Nottenc standing over an earthen oven stirring something. Carma rose and went over to her. The vole’s right ear twitched but that was it.

“Good morning ma’am.” Nottenc grunted a greeting.

Carma thought that she may have offended her yesterday and started to apologize. “Sorry if I came off as rude yesterday. I’ve been traveling a lot so I’m not quite used to being around others. And I was in shock so I may have not said the kindest things.”

A smile broke the vole’s face. She patted the badger’s arm. “Well maybe but it’s okay. I reckon I’m not the nicest beast either.”

Carma nodded pensively. “Then is something wrong?” She asked slowly.

Mrs. Chubbacutch waited a bit before responded. “Not necessarily. Wait while I finish getting this ready and I’ll tell you.” Carma agreed, though confused and went to make the bed that she’d slept in. She smoothed out the light purple bedspread, tucking in the corners. Then she sat on it, wondering what the vole had to say. She was a lot less talkative then yesterday and seemed almost…concerned.

The aforementioned creature plopped down beside her. “I have some…let’s just say advice for you. You have a long journey ahead of you.”

Carma raised an eyebrow but stayed silent.

“You will come across a war where the sides seem uneven. You will cause either joy or destruction. You will bring peace or rule. You could become many things.” She paused for a second then continued. “Don’t let your brother’s death affect you. “

Carma gasped. She hadn’t told Nottenc anything about her brother’s death yesterday. “How’d you…what the…how?” She stammered.

“Let’s just say I have a gift or friend that told me these things. Remember this well. It will help you. I hope you do well on your journey.” Her thin paw momentarily clasped the huge striped one then let it go as she rose. “So do you have any plans? I’ll make you a pack of food if you need to leave. If not you can stay here as long as you like.”

“I should probably get going.” She stood pondering everything.

“Okay.” The volewife scurried around packing. “We’d love to have you stay though. You could help me take care of Mumzy and it’d help you rest up. Because, as I said, you have a long journey ahead of you. And you were in shock yesterday.”

Carma laughed, a beautiful deep clear sound. “Fine. I’ll stay. But I’ll help cook and stuff. I don’t wanna be a hindrance.”

“Nonsense.” Nottenc grinned. “However, there is one thing that you could do for me.”

“What’s that?”

“You can eat all this food for me!” With that she tossed the half-packed bag of food over to the laughing Carma.

“Happily, ma’am, happily.”

Redwall Abbey was still recovering from the sudden attack. Ampanna was hospitalized so as a result Segalia hung out with Lijel and Wraltor. Sometimes Silverfalcon would be rounded up for their mischief but sometimes he’d just wander around the Abbey or practice with his many weapons. Today, the boys had decided to steal some pies from the Kitchen windows.

“Steal? Shall I refresh yore memory, Lijel? We have an otter code…and on it it says do not steal!”

Lijel shrugged as if to say ‘What of it?’

“It’s okay, Seg.” Wraltor said smiling. “We do it all the time and it’s okay!”

Segalia still wasn’t convinced. “Isn’t Redwall in trouble right now? You know, th’attack, food shortages?”

“How ‘bout we take the pies and deliver ‘em to the beasts in the Infirmary? That way we’re sorta like Robin Hood.” Lijel suggested.

“Who’s Robin ‘ood?” Wraltor asked confused.

“’E was a fox who stole from the rich and gave to the poor way back when." Explained Segalia. "I don’t know ‘bout that idea.”

“C’mon, it’ll be fun!” Lijel insisted.

“Fine, but be careful.” The light of adventure started to gleam in Segalia’s eyes.

They huddled together and thought out a simple plan, mischievous smiles on their faces. A few minutes later there were three grubby otters in the Infirmary presenting a hot blueberry pie to a smiling Ampanna.

The hairy tip of the ear flicked as a fly landed on it. The see-through crystal-like wings sped it around in a circle back to buzz around the head that accompanied the ear. A paw fluttered impatiently but almost unconsciously at it. The fly took the hint soon enough and sped off. The owner of the head, ear and paw didn’t notice. She was too busy trying to listen in to the war council behind the thick door.

“I can’t ‘ear anything!” Her brother stamped his paw on the ground impatiently.

Selra chewed her lip with one of her bottom protruding fangs. Only jumbled words were getting received by her ears. Still, she had to keep trying. For some strange reason that she herself didn’t quite understand she had to know what was going on in the meeting.

“Quiet, Riplar!”

He tchiiiped annoyed then joined her at the door. A few words filtered through: Kill, all, destroy, plunder, aim well, woodlanders. This was accompanied with a few cheers. Riplar and Selra shared confused looks and pressed their ears back to the door. A few more words were exchanged and then the sounds of chairs scraping came to them. A quick worried look flashed between the fox cubs and they raced off, their calloused footpaws slapping on the stone floor.

A few minutes later found them reclining in a tree a bit away from the castle. Only a few falling leaves would reveal to a passerby that they were there. Riplar was completely relaxed, his eyes closed and his chest heaving slower. The little sunlight that filtered in through the thick foliage dappled on his content face. Selra’s face however, wore a slightly confused and concerned look.

“Rip?” She asked after a few minutes.

“Hm?”

“What’d you think about the war council?”

He shrugged, raining some tree dust down on his sister. “What is there to think about?”

Selra shrugged in turn. “I don’t know.” The thought was still unformed in her mind; it was just a feeling at the moment.

“Father is a war lord after all.”

“That is true I suppose. Still, we weren’t really alive the last time he warred someone.”

“We were alive when we took over this island.”

“Yeah, but we were only two or so. We didn’t really notice that much. This however, is different. We will probably see a real war and killing.” She shuddered slightly.

Riplar sat up. “You really think we’ll get to see part of the war?”

“It’s not a thing to get excited about.”

“Well...in a way.” Now Riplar ported a confused look. It soon vanished and was replaced by an anticipatory look. “Ya think he’ll let us fight some?”

Selra’s eyes widened in excitement. “Now that would be cool. Maybe I could get a bow.” Still, as she settled back in the tree she couldn’t deny the gnawing feeling in her gut.

Chapter 9
Things had fallen into a simple rhythm: Rise, help Nottenc in the kitchen, watch Mumzy for a bit, go out for a while, return, do a workout that may consist of battling Nottenc then sleep. These events were often punctuated by eating and sometimes moments of boredom.

During one of these moments of boredom Nottenc had noticed. “Honey? Don’t you have something to do?”

Carma heaved her beginning to broaden shoulders up and down. “Beats me. Do you want me to help you do something?” She moved to sit up but the volewife placed a comforting but restraining paw on her shoulder.

“It’s okay. You know what? I have something for you. Wait right here.” With that she turned and moved surprisingly sprightly across the dwelling. She disappeared behind a cleft for a few moments and the badger heard rustling sounds. Nottenc soon appeared holding something in her thin paws and blowing dust off of it.

“There now. Here.” She handing the strange square-like thing to Carma who stared at it. Not wanting to appear rude but not wanting to appear ignorant she stared at it a few minutes longer.

Finally Nottenc broke the silence. “It’s a book, dear.”

That sparked a few links. She remembered seeing some similar things back where she’d used to live. She could read though her writing was sparse and her spelling worse. It hadn’t exactly been her strong point. She frowned slightly, not exactly thrilled with the gift.

“Come on. Take a little time to look through it. I think you’ll enjoy it. It’s about Badger Lady and Mother Cregga Rose Eyes.” Seeing Carma’s brown eyes light up at that she continued. “It’s not like you have much else to do. Now go enjoy yourself.”

With a little prodding she took the tome to a quiet place and started slowly devouring it. Reading proved much easier when you had something interesting to read. Carma’s new goal in life was to become like Cregga. She didn’t want to be blinded and she wasn’t quite sure if she’d rather be Badger Lady or Badger Mother but this was enough for now.

Following this, she spent many hours wandering the woods working on different skills necessary. On one such trip she came upon to unlikely characters.

His arm was nearly jerked out of his socket as Segalia turned and sped to the left. Maben next to him was practically lifted into the air by him and Korla. Another twist and they came closer to their quarry. He squeezed Segalia’s paw because the sweat was making his paws slippery. He put on a burst of speed and Korla’s paw brushed Wraltor’s back. They had done it.

“Is that it?” Segalia asked searching the vast Abbey lawns.

“I don’t know.” Korla gasped. “Who else…is playing?”

Maben scrunched up his nose. “Katya was pwayin’ inside wiv de oders. Maybe she’ll come pway.”

Segalia’s eyebrow rose skeptically. “Didn’t ye already ask her iffen she wanted t’play?”

He shrugged. “Maybe she’ll wanna pway now.”

“I doubt it. If we’ve caught everyone…” Her grip on his paw slackened.

A hesitating voice caught their attention. “Kin…kin h’I play?”

They turned to face Silverfalcon. He had placed some of his weapons in the room in which he was staying and still others on the grass beside the wall. He was left with vambraces and two daggers.

“You wanna play?” Korla asked doubtfully.

He shrugged. “H’I ‘aven’t played much since h’I was a kid. H’even then, the Juskasie weren’t big on playin’ iffen ye know Ah mean.”

“Well then do you know the rules to Amoeba or Blob or Chain?” Segalia asked the new potential prey.

“Not really.”

“Lessee, we,” She gestured to the others, “are it. When yore caught you join paws with us and continue catchin’ beasts. You don’t ever split up and you can’t catch somebeast if yore not holding paws. Get it?” She tightened her grip on his paw again.

He slowly bowed and raised his head. “H’I think so.”

She grinned maliciously. “Hold paws! Five, four, three…”

Silver started backing up then turned and ran.

“Two, one! C’mon!” She ran after him, dodging a passerby. Lijel ran fast, keeping even with her, so his arm wouldn’t be wrenched out of socket again.

The passerby smiled and stepped back a bit as the last beast, Wraltor, raced past. She turned to Skipper Joncho. “Isn’t it so nice to see them playing so cheerfully?”

He nodded grimly. “As long as they don’t get killed.”

“Why,” the Abbess swatted at him playfully, “don’t say such things.” Her face grew a bit dour. “Still, I hope they don’t come back and attack us. I don’t know if we could stand another attack.”

“Do you want me to start whippin’ some h’Abbeybeasts into fightin’ shape?”

“I hate to but…”

“H’it’s the only way we’ll be shure t’live.”

“I hate it but if it’s the only way then go ahead. I’ll let you take care of the war plans. Consult me only when necessary.” Fern turned to leave but he stopped her.

“Segalia’s gettin’ to be a great archer and Lijel’s not bad with a sword.”

“What are you saying?”

He looked straight into her eyes. “H’I’m sayin’, h’I’ll ‘afta use the young’uns.”

She stared at the ground a long moment. She murmured something along the lines of them being so young then pulled her head up, her eyes full of grief. “If it’s absolutely necessary…do it. Just please, try to keep them alive.”

“H’I’ll do wot Ah kin miss, H’I’ll do wot Ah kin.”

Grovelum paced in the throne room, back and forth and back again. He was making many plans against Redwall Abbey and had executed several of them. The problem was they didn’t seem to be taking effect. They had wounded several Redwallers, effectively putting them out of action, that much was true. The problem, he figured, was that he was making a big and powerful enough impact on them. What would help would be a bigger army, more help. He sighed. He still wasn’t closer to solving this problem then he had been beforehand.

A tapping interrupted him. “Go away!” He called. Was peace and quiet too much to ask for? The tapping continued becoming louder. He raised his paw, clenched his fist and whirled around, his cape flapping dramatically. “Please! Leave me…”

His voice trailed off as his eyes examined the strange creature in front of him. It was a coyote, who carried himself with a royal manner but his eyes declared otherwise. His eyes pronounced him crazy and mad with Bloodwrath. His cape had not recovered from his many fights and was tattered and blood-stained, the blue hard to see. The tapping had come from his gold-topped cane, some more evidence of his fighting state.

“Slashclaw! It’s so good to see you again!” With a few steps, Grovelum traversed the space between them and was greeting Slashclaw the Mad. They shook paws then pulled each other into a hug, hitting each other on the back.

“So, what have you been up to lately? I haven’t seen you forever!”

Slashclaw cackled. “Oh this and that you know. Going here, fighting there.” He shrugged. “The usual. What have you been doing?”

“Slashclaw old matey, you came just in time. I have been working constantly for a while to take over the infamous Redwall Abbey. It’s not working. I need more beasts, I need a bigger impact, I need…I need help.”

“Well then I’m your beast!” He cackled again, this time accompanied with a snort.

“I would be forever grateful if you did. Do we have arrangements for your stay?” He started towards the door then turned back. “You are staying I presume?”

“Yes, yes. Don’t worry about it, Rori’s taking care of it.”

“How’s Rori these days?”

“Loyal as ever. He’s getting good with an axe too. Now, about those war plans. What do you have so far?”

The two friends chatted and worked deviously hard, oblivious to the coming night.

(A/N: Credit goes to Sale(m) for Slashclaw the Mad and Rori. Thanks!)

Chapter 10
With her newfound skills of reading and writing, Carma had started a journal. One entry went like this:

Dear Diary,

''It’s been two days since it happened and I can’t stop thinking about it. I don’t know if something’s wrong with me or not. It was just so mind-boggling. And he was just so…Let me start at the beginning.''

''You know how I’ve been taking walks acting like Lady Cregga Rose Eyes? (*See Entry Cregga Rose Eyes is Awesome for further detail) Well the other day ago I was taking a walk and I heard some strange noises. I hid behind a tree to see what it was.''

''First out came the strangest creature. It was like a fox but grayer and almost scrawnier. He was ragged and looked quite mad. I got ready to attack him if needed.''

''But then who should come along but another badger! He looked to be around my age and he was indeed handsome. He was pretty buff too. I wanted to get to know him better. Imagine my shock when he went up to the weird creature and said “Master Slashclaw, how much farther is it?”''

''Master? That strange thing was his master! Since then I’ve been in an absolute tumult of emotions. The more I saw of the young boar, the more I wanted to get to know him. But I was repulsed by his master. Maybe the master was good. He just looks too much like a vermin.''

''They had a small banter and Slashclaw turned out to be insane like I thought. The badger went right along with it. He was just so loyal to that crazy thing. Maybe that means that the master was really good so that means that the badger was. Oh and I believe Slashclaw called him Rori.''

''Rori, such a nice name. It almost seems familiar. I just don’t know what to do about this. Maybe I could find them again and ask him about himself. Two things are for certain, I don’t know what to do and I may be in love for the very first time.''

''P.S. Nottenc helped me out with the vocabulary and spelling. Isn’t she so nice?''

Carma rose from the table and looked out the window into the distance, as if by wishing hard enough she could see Rori again.

With a resounding crack, the two weapons crashed and came away. One swung back surprisingly quickly.

“Take that back!” The cry came from Segalia, whose eyes were cloudeded with a rosy red, her weapon swinging crazily. If you watched closely, you could tell there was a slight pattern to her strikes but it was well concealed.

If her opponent was thinking, he would be thanking anybeast, probably Mother Nature, that they weren’t using real swords. He was however, hard-pressed to think of anything besides defending himself. His stave was wobbling, weakly blocking most or some of the strikes. Naraudo was wishing that he really had muscles as buff as he always bragged. For that matter, he wished he hadn’t said anything in the first place.

“Now! Say sorry! Take it back!” The words were punctuated with hard blows to the stick and the squirrel’s body; trembling, the makeshift sword slipped from his sweaty paws. His breaths came in sobs and he collapsed to the ground.

“S-so-sor…” The word refused to come out. It wouldn’t matter if it had. Segalia continued to rain blows on him, then seeing that he was down, raised her stick for the killing blow. Paws grasped her, their owners having finally reached her, and she turned ferociously on them. She landed at least one blow before two beasts grabbed the sword and two others pinned her down. She struggled fiercely, her eyes a bright red.

“Lemme at ‘im!”

“Seg! Seg! Segalia Riverstorm!”

The words pervaded her mental red block. She shook herself and growled, “What?!”

“Segalia, it’s me, Ampanna. Stop. Calm down. It’s okay.”

Segalia’s sweaty body trembled then relaxed, her chest heaving. Ampanna and the Skipper tentatively released her shoulders. She jerked over to where Naraudo lay whimpering and punched him in the side. Her elbow was caught before she could continue. This time they forced to the ground on her stomach and Lijel, who had helped catch her sword, sat on her lower legs, Ampanna on her back and Skipper held her arms. Wraltor, who had helped catch the sword, helped wherever needed.

They waited until struggling wore her out. They waited until they were sure that every trace of red was gone from her eyes. They waited until they decided it was safe to let her up. Then they freed her to sit in a protective circle around her. Segalia flopped over and breathed wearily. Then, with slight trembling, she sat up. She crossed her legs and put her elbows on her knees, resting her head in her paws.

“Now,” Skipper Joncho’s voice was firm, “Do ye want t’ tell me wot that ‘twas all ‘bout?”

Ampanna raised a cautious paw.

“Wot is it?”

“Should we get Goodwife Burna t’look at Naraudo?”

“Yes, run and do that.” He waved her off, not turning his attention from the tan ottermaid.

“Well?”

“I…he…He started it.”

Her interrogator’s eyebrow rose. “Yore ‘ow old, Segalia, and that’s yore ‘scuse?”

“Lemme ‘splain.” The request was slightly muffled and her voice showed signs of exhaustion.

Joncho’s blunt nod, felt more than seen, was all she needed. “Y’see, we came out here to start weapons trainin’ like y’told us to. You assigned us partners for a mock swordfight.” She sighed heavily. “I got Naraudo. It started off nicely enough, bit of sparring, a few darting at sides, y’know, the usual. While we were fightin’, we were talkin’. He asked me wot me primary weapon was. I said, of course, ‘Bow and arrows.’ He laughed and said that of course I would do that. That females often did archery because it was safer because you didn’t have t’be in the battle. That they were sissies and of course I wouldn’t take a more manly weapon like him.”

They totally ignored the moles who came and carried Naraudo to the infirmary. Ampanna looked after them, back at her friend then back at the red squirrel. She scampered after him.

Segalia raised her head for the first time. “Y’know wot me temper’s like. It just snapped. He was provoking me and he deserved it.” Her tone changed from pleading to defensive. She shook and dropped her head. “Still, I don’t know why I beat ‘im up as viciously as I did. Generally it’s just one blow and I feel pretty justified. He just started talking and my temper started flaring up, so I started fighting harder. When he finished I was just seeing red. It’s like I couldn’t stop myself.” She sounded more perplexed then scared but Lijel heard the tremor that escaped into her voice.

She opened her mouth as if she was going to continue but then closed her jaw and continued examining the ground. Skipper Joncho took a deep breath and the boys simply gazed at their friend.

“Segalia,” the skipper started then paused to rub his forehead, “H’I’ve known ye since ye were a wee little thing. Always runnin’ ‘round wild, doin’ crazy darin’ stuff.” She poked a curious eye at him, not quite understanding what baby stories had to do with anything. “H’I guess, Ah always ‘spected this would ‘appen. Yore ma has too. Didn’t want ye to, so Ah told ‘er h’I’d watch out for ye.”

They all gazed at him, wondering where his rambling was headed. He sighed then continued steering doggedly, albeit crookedly, to his point. “Y’see we ‘ad our suspicions that you were a Bloodwrather.”

They merely gaped at him, mouths open, eyes staring. Segalia’s mouth moved, trying to form words, but gave up. Lijel was the first to break the silence by slapping his thigh. “Well, that ‘splains a lot. Yore temper, always so angry and violent…yore a Bloodwrathy otter!”

Wraltor smiled, but his forehead was creased. “H’I thought that only ‘flicted badgers. ‘N’ last Ah checked, Seg’s an h’otter.”

Joncho chuckled. “True, true. ‘Owever, it ‘as been known to ‘fect otherbeasts like our Seg here.” He turned to her. “So, ‘ow do you feel ‘bout all this?”

“Shocked, surprised, a little happy, a bit relieved, some confused, then part of me totally ‘spected it.”

He laughed again and hit her on the back. “That’s t’be ‘spected. These things don’t come easy. Why, h’I ‘member when yore aunt found out she was one.” The blue eyes, now clear of all red besides blood channels, snapped over to him.

“Wot?”

“Not yore aunt Korbermna. No, yore aunt Lisya. Y’know, the one ‘o’s always off travelin’ t’some distant place or h’another.”

“Makes sense.”

Segalia nodded in agreement with Lijel. “H’I wish, she was ‘ere. Maybe she could ‘elp me with it.”

“Or ye could go to Salama-wot’sit ‘n’ see if the Badger Lord ‘as Bloodwrath and kin ‘elp ye.” Wraltor’s suggestion brought a smile to her face which hadn’t been seen since the start of the discussion.

“It’s okay, Seg. Being a warrior and skipper meself, Ah’ve got a bit of ‘sperience in that area. Plus, Ah’m sure there ‘re books ‘bout it. We’ll be fine. We’ll work on it durin’ our lessons.” Skipper Joncho rose to his footpaws.

So did Wraltor and Lijel, who offered to help Segalia up. She stared at it, intending to disregard as she normally did when anybeast offered, but her exhaustion got the better of her. Calloused paw met calloused paw, as they had when they played Amoeba, and biceps contracted. Lijel stumbled momentarily as Segalia put on more strength than he had originally planned on but he hefted and soon they were both standing.

“Come, that’s ‘nough for the day.” The skipper’s proclamation made them shout with glee. “We should see ‘ow your wounded ‘ponent’s doin’.” This was not, but they trooped merrily into the formidable redstone building nonetheless.

Riplar yawned as the shining blade flashed closer and closer with each swing. The growing muscles bulged and contracted. The blade went towards his throat, stopping just a hair’s-breadth away.

“Dead.”

The word was accompanied with applause from a nearby tree where two footpaws swung back and forth. Riplar reached down and pushed Rori’s axeblade away.

“Yeah, that was cool.” The twins were watching Rori practice his weapon with the hope of, that their father had eagerly informed them of, starting to be able to learn their own weapon in a few weeks.

Selra dropped from the tree, a small dust cloud rising around her. “So, are you nearly done?”

“Why? What’s up?”

The foxmaid darted her eyes about, not meeting his. “Oh nothing, I just wanted to ask you something.”

Rori arched his black eyebrow. “Shoot.”

“Um, does it ever, like, annoy you when Slashclaw, I mean Mr. Slashclaw, I don’t know, hurts beasts?” The hazel eyes taking in the fidgeting girl hardened. Rori turned away.

Riplar groaned. “She’s been going on about this for a while now. Ignore her.” He didn’t want to admit how deeply it resonated with him.

Rori shook his massive head. “No, no, it’s alright. That’s just a touchy subject.”

Now it was their turn to raise their eyebrows. The badger sighed. “Okay, let’s look at this for a second. Or just look at me for that matter. I am a,” He waited for their answers.

“Badger?” Their reply was simultaneous.

“Yes. That means I’m a typical,” He made quotation marks with his thick fingers, “woodlander, right? But Slashclaw doesn’t think that. He knows that once I killed another woodlander so he assumes I’m good with it, especially since I kill vermin.” He made quotation marks again.

The twins stared at him, not quite knowing where he was going.

Rori continued, “Slashclaw also believes that I’m a valuable, loyal servant. If he believed I was of no use to him, in his state he may dispose of me. But in my position, sometimes I can try and alter the poor fate of some woodlander.”

“Vermin too?”

Selra’s question caught him off guard. “I guess.”

“I mean, being around typical or atypical vermin a lot would mean that you weren’t prejudiced against all of us like most woodlanders, right?”

“Well, yeah.” He cocked his head to the side in assent and confusion.

“I think, for example, what she’s trying to ask is that if we were in an unfair position, you would try to save us?”

“Or other vermin.”

The questions that were hard to answer were almost harder to contemplate. Rori experienced a lot of prejudice from being a woodlander under “control” of a “vermin”. He had never really considered that the prejudice went many ways. “Woodlanders”, of course, didn’t like him at first because they thought him a traitor. “Vermin” didn’t know if they could trust him then congratulated Slashclaw for “taming” him. But now, the foxes presented him with the simple fact that “woodlanders” were prejudiced against all “vermin” assuming they were here to hurt them and therefore hurting them first.

This was too much to think about. Rori flopped onto the ground.

“Well?”

“I think so. I mean, yeah, for you two definitely, for others, I don’t know.”

Selra’s eyes hardened in a way which her brother would become accustomed to seeing. “Of course.”

Riplar shook off the complicated thinking and leaped onto his friend. With many sounds and cries the two wrestled on the ground and a smile eventually came to Selra’s face. The conversation had gone a bit off the course that she had wanted it to follow but she had learned some things that she could sort out later.

She leaped into the fray and pulled the badger’s ear.

“Hey, not fair! Two against one!”

“You’re a badger!”

“You’re bigger!”

“Ah!” The playful cries brought a smile to Oxos’s face as she worked on “business” with her husband and Slashclaw the Mad.

Chapter 11
A cry split the air. Carma’s mind snapped back to the present from its extensive wanderings. Extensive wanderings that had involved complicated stuff that she was starting to think she should stop thinking about. She put this into effect by examining the source of the cry.

Her brown eyes instantly shot to where she had last seen the water vole child. Nope, the now tottering Mumzy had teetered away from there. Ah, there she was. The cries, which had stopped for a hiccupping second, crescendoed. Her care keeper rushed over to find the cause of her cries so that she could stop them.

The water vole looked over with wide eyes full of pain and tears, some which had already cascaded down. “Ahma!”

The toddler’s name for her made her smile but only shortly as Mumzy started crying again.

“Mumzy, what’s wrong?” Her big, rough paws enfolded the shaking babe. In answer, a small paw was held up. At first Carma still did not see what was wrong and was about to ask when the light caught on some small shafts sticking out of the miniature appendage. Her mind whirled between several possibilities.

“Mumzy, calm down. What were you doing when this happened?”

The non-afflicted paw pointed quiveringly at a nearby bush. This confirmed Carma’s suspicions. “Okay, I’m gonna need you to hold still. Can you do that for me?”

She kept her voice calm and controlled so as not to scare the girl and slowly pulled out her stiletto. Mumzy sniffled and nodded. The badgermaid gripped the small chubby paw gently but firmly. She then carefully scraped the blade of the knife across the paw until the stinging nettle barbs were all gone. Mumzy’s sobs and sniffs quieted until she was almost silent.

Carma slowly stood. “D’you wanna go home now?”

Mumzy sniffed and nodded.

“Okay.” Her babysitter gently took her uninjured paw to start walking back to the bankside home.

“Ahma?”

“Yes?”

“Iggyack ide?”

Carma looked at the slightly bleary soft eyes and softened immediately. “Sure.”

The vole was all glee now as she scrambled up on the badger’s broad back. Carma smiled, hefted the light weight once and took off for the abode through the darkening woods. Giggles filled the air setting a light mood to the night. The dark added a nice touch to everything, especially the colorful leaves that covered the ground yet still graced the trees. It was indeed a beautiful night. Normally, this beauty would not have been missed by Nottenc. The volewife was many things, one of which included a lover of beauty and nature. Tonight however, her mind was distracted from the late fall display of splendor. So, when the young females returned she was not in the mood for amusement.

Carma and Mumzy rolled about on the grass still breathless from the long jog. Mumzy leaped onto Carma’s stomach who responded with an “oof!” They continued to laugh tiredly as their energy waned. Nottenc had been busily working about the house and now came out hearing the noise. A small smile brushed across her tired features. Carma noticed just how old and tired her friend looked so she came over to her.

“Nottenc?” The volewife had insisted on a first-name basis against Carma’s deferential background which in the end worked against her.

“Hm?” accompanied by a slight ascent of her head was the only acknowledgement Carma’s inquiry got.

She pushed on and got straight to the point. “What is it?”

The sigh that escaped the thin lips was care-worn and heavy. “I saw some vermin today.”

“We see a few fairly often. Why is this unusual?” She kept an even tone trying not to probe.

Nottenc finally looked over at her. “It wasn’t a few. It was an attack force. I’m worried, Carma. I want to protect Mumzy.” They both glanced over the girl who had curled up in the grass and fallen asleep. “I’ve been thinking, maybe we should head to Redwall Abbey.”

“You haven’t just been thinking about it.” Nottenc didn’t object. “You’ve been doing something about it. But it sounds like a good idea. What do you need help with?”

The volewife realized just how much the badgermaid had matured since she had gotten to know her. Another smile flickered across her mouth.

“Not much. I was nearly done when you came.”

Carma nodded. “We should probably travel at night so that we can be a bit safer against potential attacks.”

Nottenc nodded in return then turned to finish packing up the necessary essentials. A striped paw stopped her.

“Rest with her.” Carma jerked her thumb towards Mumzy. “I’ll finish up.”

This time the smile was broader, truer. “Thank you, Carma. You’ve truly grown up.”

The badger’s grown up facade was broken with the blush that spread across her wide cheeks. She hurried the tired lady over to her daughter and entered the humble dwelling to pack. Feeling slightly overwhelmed by memories, she did the job quickly.

Soon she emerged and the packs were dealt out. Mumzy rested in a pack on Carma’s back, her head gently thumping against the black and white expanse. Nottenc took a last melancholy look at her boarded up home then faced the direction of their prospective shelter. Carma gave her a compassionate glance and they headed off with the darkness spreading, the sun long set.

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Polls
What do you think of the Abbess? Mary Sue! Super strict Confusing Complex A good Abbess Serious moodswing issues I like her!

What do you think of Carma? Mary Sue! Complex Kind and not powerful She has issues A good potential Badger Lady I like her!

What do you think of the whole story so far? Interesting Good writing Good writing, but no plot No plot and not very interesting It stinks! I like it!

What do you think is going to happen between Rori and Carma? They're going to fall in love, get married, have kids and become the Badger family at Salamandastron Do the same as in number one but reside at Redwall Do the same as in number one but go into hermitude or live in Mossflower Woods They're going to find out that they're cousins and become great friends One of them is going to die saving the other They're never going to see each other again I don't know but it's going to be important I have absolutely no idea