User blog:AlexanderWiki2002/Siege over Mossflower Country

THE SEIGE OVER MOSSFLOWER Country

By: ALderjack the Treescamp

CHAPTER 1

A warm summer breeze blew through the tall trees of Mossflower Woods as little birds twittered and flittered about. Big, fluffy clouds like giant cottonballs ever so slowly meandered across the brilliant blue sky. Then, there was a split in the trees. A traveler would breach beyond the trees, to suddenly be gazing upon a humongous red sandstone building, an abbey, to be exact. Redwall was a peaceful and caring place, filled with happiness and friendship. The mice, squirrels, moles, hedgehogs, and otters that lived there always treated any wanderers, visitors, and travelers with hospitality. On this particular gorgeous summer day, the Redwallers were planning a Feast of Jubilee and everyone was working hard, each doing their part. In the kitchens, wondrous dishes were being concocted. All sorts of candied fruits and nuts, round colorful cheeses, soups of all sorts, puddings, trifles, flans, pasties, pies, scones, breads, and even a colossal Abbot Cake planned to be as tall as 2 mice! Friar Blumself, the fat jolly old mouse cook, bustled around the abbey kitchens, stirring, encouraging, tasting, gathering, and all-around cooking. “Whoa there, Tibbles get away from that stove, or you’ll burn your paws! Skipper, is this enough hotroot? Sister Hildra, could you help me find those candied chestnuts?” Out on the orchard, squirrels were climbing up fruit and nut trees, dropping the goodies into the waiting baskets of mice and hedgehogs. Moles were in the garden or digging the fire pit, communicating with their gruff, homely voices. “Hurr, hurr oi goots sum owd scrumpteeush luckin’ karrets ‘n parsnippers fer ee Foremole zur.” Otters were in the pond, hunting for watershrimp for Friar Blumself to make the otters’ favorite dish, shrimp and hotroot soup. “Aye, Slimbrook, me ould girl, we have got to get a boatful of badgers’ worth ‘o watershrimp to make a bowl ‘o hotroot soup big enough for us!” said Skipper of otters to his niece, as he dove into the water. Meanwhile, back in the kitchens, the good Friar received horrible news for any chef. “Hares are coming!?!? Oh- No! They’ll eat us out of house and home! Double time, everyone!” he shouted. Abbot Arstead, the wise old mouse who was leader of Redwall supervised his fellow Redwallers and helped with the organization of the festivities. As the peaceful creatures of Redwall Abbey bustled about, they were totally unaware of the dangers that were so soon to come. Syzran the Cunning was a fox with a plan. As he stroked his long, bushy, orange tail, he sized up his army. Right now, his large but disorganized army of rats, weasels, stoats, ferrets, and foxes could definitely not be able to complete his grand scheme. Alone, that is. “Okay ye miserable old grannies! Gather ‘round now, I’m about to make us as rich as you lot are stupid. I’ve got a plan…” Syzran began. “Uuuggggghh!” groaned a rat a bit too loudly. “What is it, Warthead?” inquired the fox softly. “I, uh…I have a tummy ache, sir.” Said the rat. “Well, mate, you should always lie down and take a long rest. Liar!!!” The army cringed as Syzran unsheathed his double scimitars and ran Warthead through, slaying him instantly. The crew flinched, nervous. Syzran turned to the remaining vermin, smiling toothily. “Well, where was I? Oh yes, the plan! So, I’m a fox, the smartest creature ‘round, and I say to meself, what if we could live in that great big ‘ol Redwall place? Vittles, slaves, protection, comfort, the lot of it! But every time somebody tries to take over that Redwall place, those peaceable forest bumpkins always have those fightin’ rabbets that come to their rescue.” Said Syzran. “But, sir they can still fight, countless others have tried it. It’s the same results every time. Cluny the Scourge, Slagar the Cruel, the Marlfoxes, Greypatch the searat, Ironbeak…” interrupted Jegru, the fox warlord’s advisor. “Good point, good point. But I’m better than all ‘o ‘em. And by the way, I have a way to get them rabbets and the Redwallers. Listen close me hearties… Alderjack the squirrel swung through the leafy boughs of Mossflower Woods with as much ease as a mole digs though dirt. His dark golden-blond fur was quite a rarity for his kind. With him was his good friend, Treescamper, or Treescamp for short. “Treescamp kinda rolls off the tongue,” he often said. The two young squirrels were playing tag, bounding through the treetops, laughing and joking. “Haha! C’mon slowpoke! Why can’t you catch me, you old branch bender?” Alderjack cried teasingly at his pursuer. Then, he stopped and climbed down the tree. “Treescamp??” he called. Suddenly, his chaser lunged at him out from the trees. “Aaaaaahh!” the blond squirrel yelped. “Gotcha!” said Treescamp as he started laughing. Alderjack joined in his friend’s merriment. “Heeheehee! You shoulda seen yourself! I could’ve looked down your throat and saw what you had for dinner last night!” Then, a crunch and a series of rough, unfriendly voices ended their noise-making. “Hurry, go up this here oak an’ let’s spy on ‘em.” Muttered Alderjack, serious now. “Ok” said his companion. The crunching became louder and a rat and a weasel emerged. “Uggh. ‘Ese stupid lit’l gnats are driving me nuts. When’d ye think we’re gonna get to dis Redwall place, mate?” asked the rat, Rizzo. “I dunno, mate, but I ‘ope it’s soon. Wit dis Syzran, I think ‘at taking over it ‘ill be easy wit ‘is plan he gots. I ‘ope it has as many vittles as Syzran says. I look forward to ‘avin all those woodlander slaves, the ones we don’t destroy. Haha!” said Bloodtooth the weasel. Once they had passed, Alderjack asked rhetorically, “Did you here all that?” Treescamp nodded. “What are we waiting for? Let’s go!”

Chapter 2

Syzran had just finished giving out his grand scheme out on the beach. The fox warlord strode over to one of his horde’s magpies, Karaahk. “Go report to Voskriss, and tell him to bring reinforcements. They may be stupid, but I’ll need those big, brutish lizards to devour any of my rebellious subjects.” Said Syzran. “Karaahk! This bird will get monitors. Karaahk!” The magpie flew off to the oceans. Meanwhile, at the mountain fortress of Salamandastron, a group of the fighting hares of the Long Patrol were all lined up to march to Redwall’s Jubilee Feast, to present a gift from the badger lord, Stonestripe the Magnificent. Horlington Bradshaw Vittlescoff III was definitely the most happy, hoppy hare of the whole Long Patrol. “Oh, absolutely spiffing! C’mon chappies, off to jolly old Redwall, wot! I heard their scoff is tremendously top-hole! On the double, wot!” the ecstatic young hare babbled. “Put a lid on it, young blighter. Stiffen up and all that, wot!” snapped the tough old hare in command, Brigadier Elton Harringworthy. The strict, old-fashioned Long Patroller prowled through the ranks of hares, grimacing sharply at each one. “H’AAtteeennnTION!” he suddenly blurted. “About…FACE! Chaps, steady in the ranks, and onward to Redwall, wot!” Abbot Arstead was ascending down the stairs into the cellars. “How is it going with the drinks, Josiah?” he queried. “Jus’ fine, Father. I’ve made probably enough October ale to go into next season!” replied the burly hedgehog cellarkeeper, Josiah Longspike. “You can try some, Arstead.” He added “Thank-you, I absolutely love October Ale, even in midsummer!” The friends both laughed. “Wait a minute, I just had a big ‘ol beaker of it…” Then the large hedgehog heard squeaky little giggles from behind a barrel. He peered behind to find Tibbles the mousebabe, Bolo the molebabe, and Slippy the otterbabe, Skipper’s nephew, all sipping from a giant beaker of October ale. “By my spikes, little scallywags in my cellars!” cried Longspike in mock horror. “Wes jus h’infants, Mista ‘Ongspik. We sarry.” said Tibbles. “Nah, it’s OK, dibbuns. Ye can all stay ‘ere if you want to.” Said the cellarkeeper. Arstead said; “Let’s all go up to the lawn to see how everyone else is doing! But first, let’s all enjoy the wonderful drinks that Mr. Longspike has brewed. “Zur, thoit is defernelly yoonaminuss!” chortled Bolo. Arstead scooped up the dibbuns as they all went outside. Alderjack and Treescamp were silently following the two vermin, trying to gather enough information to help the Redwallers. “Hmmm…They’re silent now. I think we’re near the Abbey.” Whispered Alderjack. “Should we jump ‘em, or keep on following them?” inquired Treescamp. “Na, they’re pretty well armed.” They climbed down stealthily, and began to tiptoe towards another side of Redwall. But, Unfortunately, Alderjack stepped on a twig. CRACK! The normally quiet noise was well audible to the silent soldiers. “Oh, nuts and acorns! Let’s get ready to defend ourselves. Get ready to ambush.” Said Treescamp. “Ye ‘ear that? Probably sum woodlanders spyin’ on us. Get ready to ambush.” Said Rizzo. Alderjack’s golden fur blended in with the yellow flowers and grasses. As the weasel stepped past him, Alderjack pulled his leg, tripping him, and he dug his sharp teeth into the vermin’s leg. Bloodtooth screamed in pain as Rizzo duked it out with Treescamp. They both got to their feet, Bloodtooth brandishing a spear. Alderjack thought quickly, diving aside as the weasel stabbed at him. The squirrel jumped upon the spear shaft and kicked Bloodtooth in the chest. The weasel quickly recovered, and started raking at Alderjack’s face with his sharp claws. Bloodtooth regained his spear. Jabbing at him, the squirrel twisted the spear away and bonked Bloodtooth in the head. Meanwhile, Treescamp was not doing as well. Rizzo had him by the neck! Alderjack seized the spear, and, not intent on killing, knocked out the rat with one swift blow of the spear. “Wow, I had no idea I could fight like that!” said Alderjack. “I didn’t either. Thank goodness you don’t wrestle with me like that!” chuckled Treescamp. “Well, they can’t be the only ones. We have an Abbey to warn!” Chapter 3

Jegru entered Syzran’s tent, saluting. “Sir, shall we initiate part one of your master plan?” The fox answered immediately. “No. The monitor lizards must arrive first. While you’re here, get me a nice, juicy woodpigeon and send Gritsnout the stoat over here. Oh, and one more thing, ferret, start calling me your majesty, because as soon as we stamp out these woodlanders, I will be the king of all Mossflower!!!” “Yes, your majesty.” Replied Jegru, totally overwhelmed. Syzran chuckled. “Huh, Jegru is already sort of my slave, but the more the merrier. Ha!” Syzran ceased talking to himself as Gritsnout, another one of his captains walked through the tent. “You needed me, your majesty?” he asked, nervous. “Oh yes, go throughout Mossflower and defeat other, smaller, vermin bands. We must make my army larger. Get a considerable amount of soldiers to go with you.” Said Syzran lazily. Gritsnout left and Jegru came back with the roasted woodpigeon. “Here you go, your majesty.” Syzran shooed him off and chomped into the bird. This was the life! A huge ship was coming towards Mossflower. The waves parted as the giant strode its way through the sea. Out on the beach, a fox, a ferret, and a weasel were standing, waiting. As the boat docked, swarms of large green, slithering creatures piled onto the beach. A particularly large lizard named Voskriss clad in a red cape strode up to Syzran. “Greetingzzz, furbeastzzz, we are ready to eat!” The weasel, Scraggle, and Jegru shuddered at the monitors. Scraggle looked at his companion. “I can’t believe ‘e would work with those monsters.” Whispered the weasel. Then, they stood back to attention. “Do you like rabbits?” smiled Syzran. “Yezzz!” The small faction of the Long Patrol marched through Mossflower. Suddenly, a tall male hare named Sergeant Swiftbuck stopped. “I do say, chaps, what is that blinkin’ crunching noise all about, wot?” He said. Harringworthy stopped the marching hares. “Yes, good ear, young chap, but probably just a blinkin’ bird. My bally old ears went numb ‘bout 7 seasons ago, wot!” The hares continued marching. “Sah! That t’aint any bird. That’s a bally old lizard chappy, wot! Big too,” observed Horlington, pulling out his pike. Although hares sound silly in speech, they could be tough, perilous fighters. Soon, more monitor lizards appeared out of the trees. “We’re surrounded, chaps! Let’s give ‘em blood ‘n vinegar! Eeeuuulllaaallliiiaaaaaaaaaaa!!!!” As the hares charged, the monitor general, Voskriss hissed. “Itzzz been a while sinzzz I’ve had rabbetzzz. Charge!” The two forces clashed in terrible combat, screaming war cries as they fought; tooth and claw verses weapon and paw. “Kill! Kill! Kill!” “Eulalia! Give ‘em blood ‘n vinegar!” Brother Forhill, the Abbey recorder was out strolling with Abbot Arstead, Josiah Longspike, and the dibbuns. “Well, father, the planning is almost all done. We did it all quite quickly, but it’s still just nice not having to do at the moment.” Said Brother Forhill. “Yes, brother we sure did! Having nothing to do is especially nice when you’re an old mouse like me.” Answered the good Abbot. “Ahoy, mateys ‘oo wansta go ‘mimmin’ wit ma good old Unky Skip, mates?” Slippy the otterbabe asked. “Hurr, this ‘ere moler babby aren’t vurry good oit ‘mimmin’ Slippers. Oi doan’t noow.” Bolo answered bashfully. “Dat ok, matey, ma Unky Skip ‘an Slimbrook can teach ya. C’mon!” The three dibbuns bustled off to the Abbey pond. Arstead chuckled as he watched them go. Suddenly, he heard a shout. “Hey, open up! We have somethin’ to tell you!” Josiah hurried over to the gates. “I’ll see ‘oo it is Father.” The large hedgehog opened up the gates to reveal two squirrels. “Why, hello there, Alderjack, and to you too, Treescamp. What have you two young rouges been doing around?” greeted the old mouse. “Hello, Father, just the usual. You know, spyin’, beatin’ up vermin…” answered Alderjack. “Spying? What vermin?” asked the confused hedgehog cellarkeeper. “That’s what we are gonna tell you. We were just frolicn’ around ‘and then a weasel and a rat just came out of the bushes and started talking about capturing Redwall, a fox named Syzran, master plans, etcetera. Then, we went down on the ground and fight them.” Explained Treescamp. “I’m sure there’s more of ‘em.” The Abbot looked grave. “Thank-you, young squirrels. It appears that we will have to cease with the preparations and gear up for a fight.” Brother Forhill nodded. “I will warn everyone else.” The recorder mouse hurried off. Alderjack turned to Josiah Longspike. “Say, Jo, do ya have any strawberry cordial on you?”

Chapter 4

The small but vicious battle between hares and lizards raged on. A monitor soldier slithered for cover behind a bush beside his general. “Zzzir, the rabbetzzz have gotten uzzz pinned down.” He hissed. “Getzzz back out there, coward!” Voskriss said as he pushed the other lizard away. Seconds later, he was silenced by an arrow. “Well, at leazzzt that wazzzn’t me.” Voskriss muttered. Suddenly, all the remaining monitors were rushing past his bush. “Letzzz get out of here!” “G’bye, old chappies, come back to play again tomorrer, wot! Hohoho!” Corporal Fleetwood shouted. Horlington turned to Harringworthy. “Sah, mind if I go scout ‘an see where the blinkin’ blighters went?” Voskriss chuckled. A nice, juicy rabbit all to himself! The big monitor prepared to pounce as the young hare bounded his way. 3…2…1… Pounce! Horlington saw him coming and barely dodged out of the way. He was now out of sight from the rest of the Long Patrol, so help could not come. Like the hare really needed it. “Jolly bad form, me old blighter, hidin’ in bushes and sprinin’ out at a chap. Bad way to make a livin’, wot. If me old mater was here, she’d tell you to get a good job and a reasonable h’education, so she would. Wot, wot!” Horlington yammered as he dodged each hefty swipe from the giant lizard. “I will have rabbetzzz for zzzupper!” roared Voskriss. The hare’s face suddenly was a mask of mock disapproval. “Sah, you gotta stop eating other folks, wot. Wot you need is a good supply of fruits and vegs.” Voskriss was really mad. Suddenly, the hare shot up into the air like a spring. “What???” shrieked the monitor lizard. The irrepressible young hare landed right on the reptile’s head. Once Voskriss was the floor, Horlington continually battered his legs into his chest. Voskriss’s once green and grey scaly body was now blue, purple and lumpy. “Hizzz! Yew rabbetzzz would be too chewy anywayzzz.” He got up and disappeared into the bushes before the hare could finish him off. The tough hare just shrugged. “G’bye, chappy! Good thing it t’aint was old Brig. Elton Harringworthy who dealt with you. He would of shortened yore vittles supply and made you be on blinkin’ night watch for a season, wot!” Rizzo and Bloodtooth were very nervous. Syzran stalked around his tent, contemplating their life and death. Suddenly, he shot out his paw and dug his overgrown claws into the rat’s and the weasel’s shoulders. The two former “spies” screamed and writhed in agony as blood gushed down their arms while the fox growled in their faces. “Listen here, you stupid mudbrains, if I wuzzn’t so busy today, I’d have yore pelts hanging from my walls, or maybe make you fight them ikkle acorn-crunchers again, morons!” the fox threw them to the ground. “Get out of my sights immediately, blundering imbeciles!” Syzran spat. “I need a real spy. They were only test dummies. I’ll kill them later.” Suddenly, Gritsnout and his troop of vermin stepped inside, along with another, large, conquered, vermin gang. “Good stoat, Gritsnout. Where is their leader?” he inquired almost politely. The captured vermin parted to reveal a huge male stoat named Bonesnap. “Set ‘im free so he can fight me.” Said Syzran. The big stoat chuckled stupidly. “Hurr, hurr, I tink I’ll have some fun.” Syzran smiled as he sized up the stoat. “Give him his weapon back.” “Yes, your majesty.” Said Gritsnout. “Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight!” roared the vermin as the two vermin leaders circled around the “ring”. “Aaaaarrrrgggggg!!” Bonesnap charged brutishly at the fox, ax held high. Almost bored, all Syzran did was nimbly step aside and promptly tripped the brute. Unsheathing his double scimitars, the fox strode up to the stoat and beheaded him as he tried to get up. The captured vermin groaned and cringed at the gruesome sight. “Ok, you lot all belong to me now! You hear, vermin?!” he roared. He picked up the headless Bonesnap’s battle ax and examined it, licking the blood off. “Harr, harr, cullies, now that’s how you deal with them big dumb ‘uns.” The newcomers were now scared into Syzran’s loyalty. “Snaketail the rat, get me the Wisp. I mean business now. Syzran continued. “Yes, your majesty.” As the rat turned to do his commander’s bidding, he stood facing a tall cloaked figure. Snaketail jumped back, surprised. The Wisp, the shadowed creature almost glided through the soldiers. When he got to Syzran, he nodded once. The mysterious, deadly Wisp never spoke, and his species was unknown by all, except himself. Syzran leaned over to the shadowy creature. “Ok, here’s wot to do…” Skipper, Slimbrook, and the three dibbuns were all happily splashing around in the pond. Even Bolo had begun to like the water. “Hurr merster hotter, zur, cood you ploise take oi for ‘nother whoilebook roide?” the molebabe chortled. “’An me too, mista Skip?” added the mousemaid, Tibbles. “Sure, mateys, one whale right here, waitin’ to be ridden.” But before the dibbuns could go for another whaleback ride, Abbot Arstead hurried over. “Skipper of otters, Slimbrook, there are vermin about Mossflower! We must prepare for an invasion.” he announced. “Yes, Father. Sorry dibbuns, you have to get out now, little mateys.” As the otters left, Slippy said: “There is vurrmun reddy too h’invade Redwall, mateys. Let’s get dem!” The three infants toddled out of the gates, unseen by anyone.

Chapter 5

Abbot Arstead, Skipper, Foremole, Josiah Longspike, Brother Forhill and Sister Selvia the infirmary keeper all sat around a large oak table, discussing as a council of war. “Me ‘an my otter crew will be the wall guards. What all vermin need is a good rock to their stems.” The muscular otter chief said, clutching his sling. “But where will all the rest of us peaceable Redwallers get weapons? You otters are strong, but you’ll still need help.” Said the squirrel, Sister Selvia. “Erksusse oi, but you’m can all use stavfes, kitthen noiffes, roolerning pins, froin’ pons, anything that coomes to thoi paws as weppins.” Rumbled the mole chief. “Yes, Foremole. But staffs, kitchen, knives, rolling pins and frying pans probably won’t be useful against the weaponry these vermin will have.” Said Brother Forhill. “Then we gotta fight like madbeasts. They might not be actual weaponry, but kitchen utensils will work.” Subjected Josiah. “Hurr, ‘ave any woon ‘ere gortten hittened by yon froin’ pan? Et dearly hurtted oi.” Added the mole. Everyone nodded; you couldn’t deny mole logic. “And in the meantime, mateys, me, my niece, and our squirrel friends will make bows and slings and teach everyone how to use ‘em.” Concluded Skipper. “In fact, I’m gonna get to it right now, mateys.” “Looks like its unanimous, brothers and sister, we Redwallers are peaceable, but have proven worthy opponents in the past. Let’s not be the group to let this fox take over Redwall!” Concluded Abbot Arstead. “RRRREEEEEDDDDWWWAAAAALLLLL!!!” Disappointed at the cancelling of the Jubilee Feast, everyone was now even busier than ever. Alderjack and Treescamp were teaching the Abbey dwellers how to shoot bows and sling slings. “Ok, mates, slings are not supposed to be very accu- whoa! –Rate weapons, but when you all slin- ack! –Sling at the same ti- not at me! Time, the vermin will not be ab- waa! Able to dodge all those- eek! Rocks.” Treescamp hurriedly explained. He was not in their line of fire, it was just that the slingers-in-training were letting go of their spinning slings too late, accidently flinging the missiles in all directions, including at their instructor. “Uhh… Maybe we should try archery. AJ, are things going well for you?” Treescamp asked tiredly to Alderjack. “Yeah, they’re pretty accurate, but they just can’t shoot that far. Our recruits are getting there, though.” Treescamp dodged a flying pebble. “Ack! But maybe I should teach them to be accurate slingers…” Slippy, Tibbles, and Bolo were now far into Mossflower Woods, and it was getting late. Tibbles slouched on a large rock. “Sippy, dis notta good idea. I wanna go ‘ome back at Redwall H’abbey.” She squeaked moodily. “Boot mateys, dis oor chance ta beet up dem vermits ‘an save Redwall!” Protested Slippy. “Wot d’you say, Bolo? Bolo?” called out the otter dibbuns. The mousemaid quivered with fright. “Sippy, mebbe da swoomp moonsta ettted ‘im oop! Poor, Poor Bolo. Waaaaaa!” Suddenly, the babes saw a large frightening shadow zoom through the trees. “Wotta dat?” “I don’t noow matey, but I don’t tink itsa swoomp- AAAAAAAAAAA!!!!” said Slippy as the shadow popped out in front of them. He made not a noise, but his pale eyes flashed malevolently. The dibbuns screamed as the shadowy creature pulled a huge black bag over their heads. There, the infants were once again rejoined with Bolo. “Burr, hurr, hurr! Oi do woints ter goot ‘way foom dis boid kreetshurr. Woir is ‘ee takin uzzuns?” The Wisp shot through the dark underbrush, strangely enough, towards… Redwall! But definitely not to bring the abbeybabes back. It was a dark, cloudy night, just the way the Wisp liked it. He slunk over to the Abbey with the captured infants.

Chapter 6

The Wisp placed his bag with the dibbuns in a tall tree so they could not escape. He scoured for guards as he stood under a tall oak. Then, he started scaling the walls, catlike until he got onto the walltops. A mouse guard walked over to investigate. Crouched low, the Wisp jumped on him and knocked him out with one swift punch to the chin. More guards gathered over, but by that time, the shadowy intruder was gone! As he searched for an ajar window to enter through, he fingered his weapons to make sure they were still there. The Wisp slid serpentine-like through the opening as soon as the guards had descended the walls. “What was that?” “Brother Partlow?” “Partlow’s been knocked out!” “I thought I saw something over there!” This was easier than the Wisp thought. How come no one else had ever taken over this place? He was quiet to not wake the sleeping squirrel in the bed beside him. He slunk into the Great Hall, and there it was! An amazing double-handed sword placed under a large beautiful tapestry of a mouse. The Wisp rubbed his hands together greedily. Not one, but two treasures for Syzran! The shadowy thief strode boldly over to the Sword of Martin and the Tapestry of Martin. Grabbing the ancient warrior mouse’s sword, the Wisp cut through the tapestry’s bindings. As he began slinking off, the metal pole that had held up the tapestry fell! The Wisp fled as the metal pole crashed against the stone floor. As he dashed around looking for an exit, he suddenly came face to face with the golden squirrel that he snuck past. “Intruder! There’s a vermin inside the abbey!” yelped Alderjack. The Wisp pulled out Martin’s sword and struck at the young squirrel. Only Alderjack’s amazing quickness saved him, and he dove over to the fallen pole. Pole and sword clashed stroke after stroke, but the squirrel’s weapon could not hold together forever. The thief finally cleaved the pole in two, and grinned wolfishly at Alderjack beneath his cloak. Before the Wisp could react, Alderjack punched him in the face and tackled him. Discarding their weapons, they rolled about on the floor and fought like madbeasts. The Wisp came out on top and kicked the young squirrel in the chest, sending him sprawling. The vermin was about to finish him off until a group of guards appeared. The shadowy creature gathered the stolen treasures and dashed off, with the 6 guards in tow. Sister Hildra and Sister Selvia hurried over to him. “Alder, do you feel alright? You’re pretty bruised. Would you like me and Selvia to take you to the infirmary?” twittered the good mouse sister, Hildra. “No! That weasel…or stoat… or rat… or whatever, has got our tapestry and Martin’s sword!!! Thanks for thinking of me, but I must get them. They’re symbols of our abbey, and those rotten vermin are going to use it for evil!” Alderjack fumed. “I’m going out there!” and with that, he broke from the sisters and dashed outside. The Wisp chuckled snake-like. He had fooled all those stupid bumpkins; the sneaky villain had juked out the guards, and all the creatures were now awake. Even still, they would never catch him. They were out searching on the lawns and woods, but he was on the belltower. His normally desolate eyes finally showed emotion. It was evil joy, but still an emotion. Once he gave the sword to Syzran, he would get promoted, the fox would take over Redwall, Syzran would become king, then he; the Wisp would kill the fox warlord, blame it on the second-in-command, kill the second-in-command, and then become king of all Mossflower. It was the perfect plan! But he first had to get out of the abbey. As he scooted smoothly down the belltower roof, he was abruptly jolted by a sudden tremendous noise. The Wisp started rolling very unspylike down the roof, but he managed to catch himself. As he pulled himself up, he yet again came-to-face with…The squirrel!!! Didn’t this ignorant young scamp ever have enough? “He should be sleeping. I’ll make him sleep forever.” Thought the thief darkly. And with that, the Wisp jumped over the railing, landing behind the squirrel. Alderjack spun around and faced the Wisp. Quick as a flash, Alderjack jumped on the vermin and wrestled the dagger from the thief’s belt. The Wisp kicked him hard, and he squirrel went flying, dazed. But the young squirrel was never out of action for too long. Just as the Wisp was about to make his getaway, Alderjack bit into the Wisp’s cloak, impairing his escape. Even as the squirrel was getting dragged and kicked, he managed to stab the dagger into the Wisp’s leg. The Wisp winced and paused for a moment, but right when Alderjack lunged at him, the Wisp dove over the side of the belltower! The young squirrel couldn’t believe his eyes and could only stand there helplessly. The thief spread out the great tapestry like a parachute, and floated to the ground, like an autumn leaf making its way to the forest floor. Unfortunately, there were no guards out to stop him as he dashed out of the gates. Alderjack’s ears and tail drooped. The tired, beat, young squirrel trudged sadly back to his bed. He had let down Martin the Warrior!

Chapter 7

Alderjack was asleep. Then, a cloudy spirit appeared to him. As the spirit came into closer view, Alderjack could see he was a powerful, able, and kind looking mouse in armor. The squirrel knew him by the tapestry in Great Hall. It was Martin the Warrior! The mouse warrior looked at him. “Hello, young squirrel. You are the creature I will trust in saving these ancient treasures of our Abbey. Redwall and I need good, strong beasts like you to keep this abbey alive. Do not let the fox use my sword for evil. While your friends defend the abbey, I need you and a few friends to retrieve not only the sword and tapestry, but the babes that the awful fox has stolen. This will stick with you: You, a golden warrior, take your best friend Fellow squirrel that was with you beginning to end A tough young long-eared glutton comes to aid A stolen babe’s sister: an otter maid Embark through the darkest parts of Mossflower Wood There are so many perils, but survive, I know you could Vermin, snakes, rapids, toads, big birds and muck Tough it out, because you are my champion. Good luck!”

Alderjack woke with a jolt and newfound energy. He and Treescamp zipped downstairs to where Friar Blumself was sitting with Slimbrook and Sister Hildra. They all looked forlorn, and Slimbrook was crying. “Have you heard? That evil…thing has gotten Tibbles, Bolo and Slippy, my brother. Waaah!” Sobbed Slimbrook. “Treescamp looked shocked, but Alderjack just sighed sadly. “Yes. Martin the Warrior has visited me in a dream and told me everything. I’m going to get them back if it’s the last thing I do. C’mon!” But the plump mouse cook stopped them. “No. I saw lots of weasels ‘an stoats ‘an the like, swarming around the fringes of Mossflower Woods.” Said Friar Blumself wisely. “Yes, and we must make plans and eat first.” Seconded Sister Hildra mother-like. Alderjack sighed again as Treescamp patted him on the back. At breakfast, the food was delicious, as all Redwall food is, but the whole Great Hall was unusually silent except for a scattering of worrying murmurs. Then, Abbot Arstead, flanked by Skipper and Foremole cleared his throat. Everybeast turned his or her head and listened. “Good creatures of Redwall, I am not a fighter, nor do I wish for war, but in troubled times we must stick up for our abbey and fight the forces of evil. Only when the forces of evil are absent in Mossflower there is peace, and that is what we need. We are not going to ever get our poor dibbuns, or our tapestry, or Martin’s sword back if we just lie about mourning. If I were not so old and creaky, I would be out there, defending the abbey from these awful vermin. Are you with me, fellow children of Redwall?!?” The whole mood of the abbey suddenly flipped. “Hoorah!” “Oi aren’t goona gurve oop Redwall!” “Let’s get our dibbuns back!” “Yeah!” “RRRRREEEEEEDDDDWWWAAAALLLLLL!” The whole Great Hall erupted in cheers with their newfound spirit as all the good creatures bustled about, ready to defend Redwall. “Uurr, Farther Hoobet, zurr oi bets ee that yon harrs that bees coomin’ ‘ere will be a gurt ‘elp.” Suggested Foremole. Alderjack and Treescamp walked over to Arstead and explained Alderjack’s dream. “Aaa, of course… In times of need Martin choses an able creature to protect Redwall and become Abbey Warrior.” Smiled Arstead warmly. “Wow! AJ! Yer Abbey Warrior!” exclaimed Treescamp. Alderjack embraced him and got giddy with excitement. “Waaaahhoooooooo! This is just amazing! Let’s go get those dibbuns!” “Wait young warriors. We must comprise a plan to battle the vermin first, and get you out of the Abbey. The title of Abbey Warrior must be earned.” Subjected Arstead calmly. “Well, what are we waitin’ for, mates. We have a war to win!” said Skipper. “RRRRREEEEEDDDWWWAAAAAALLLLLLLL!”

Chapter 8

Scraggle the weasel peeked out from behind a tall birch tree. “Sir! I see the H’abbey!” The huge assaulting faction of Syzran’s horde followed him, led by Gritsnout. “Get ready for a fight, mates. We got this place right in our paws. Those monitors should be coming any minute now…” Announced Gritsnout the stoat. Suddenly, a huge, green, scaly head erupted out of the bushes. “Eeek!” shrilled Snaketail. Gritsnout cuffed him in the chin. “Shaddap, scaredy rat! Its jus’ the lizards!” But he too was a little afraid of those big monitors. “Lizzzen, zoat, I command the azzzualt now.” Hissed Voskriss. “Heh, heh. O’course yew will.” Gritsnout chuckled nervously. “Sir, dey ‘ave wallguards. Can we jus’ charge now?” asked a fat weasel named Gromp. “Whaddya waitin’ for?! Chaaaaarrrgggge!” roared Gritsnout. But just as the vermin where about to charge, Rizzo, who with Bloodtooth, had been demoted five ranks, noticed a small group of about 20 hares dashing towards the Abbey. “Wait! Look, sir! Itsa bunch ‘o them fightin’ rabbets!” he said. “Stop ‘em before they get to the Abbey! Resume the chaaaaarrrggggee!” Although the hares were far more superior in fighting skill, the 600 vermin and monitors charging them would most certainly destroy the little hare band. For just that one time, Brigadier Elton Harrington called a retreat. They gained some protection from Skipper and Brother Partlow from the walltops, slinging stones. Hares are extremely fast creatures and most of the Long Patrol made it to the gates; dodging the stones, arrows, and spears that bombarded them. The first to get there was the wiry hare galloper, Lepwold. “’Ello, Redwall chappies! It’s the Long Patrol at the door, not those blinkin’ vermin!” howled Lepwold as he banged on the doors hurriedly. Foremole quickly trundled over and opened the gates as fast as he could. “’Urry in, zurrs ‘n marms.” The mole chieftain urged. After the last hare had gone inside, they helped Foremole close the gates as soon as a speedy ferret managed to get there. A small group of Redwallers guided the hares into the Great Hall. Abbot Arstead walked over to Harringworthy. “Thank-you for attending our Redwall feast, but if you may have noticed, it was unfortunately canceled due to this siege.” The old mouse said. “Naw, ‘tis ok, Father H’abbot. We hares love a good battle almost as much as a blinkin’ feast, wot!” shrugged the Brigadier. “Wot d’ya mean no feast, sah?” inquired Horlington shakily. Harringworthy cuffed him in the cheek “Quit yore whinin’ young Horlingthingy ‘an be thankful! All Redwall scoff is tophole, even if it t’aint a jolly old feast, wot!” “Sorry, sah.” Apologized Horlington, ashamed. “Its fine, I’m sad too! But we have some vermin to battle first.” Replied Arstead warmly. At the word of battle, the young hare immediately sprang up. “Well, that’s just sooper dooper, wot! Nuttin’ as good as a bally fight then eatin’ vittles while fightin’, wot! I’ve gotta give ‘em all blood ‘n vinegar if my name t’aint Horlington Bradshaw Vittlescoff III! Forward the buffs! Eulalia!” he cried as he bounced off happily. The young Long Patroller soon stopped near Alderjack and Treescamp, who were only a little younger than him. “I do say now, squirrel chappies! Tis’ mighty grand to be in a blinkin’ battle, wot, wot! The name’s Horlington Bradshaw Vittlescoff III. Pleased to meet you!” the hare blurted as he clenched their paws and shook vigorously. Even as they tended to their squeezed paws, the two squirrels took a liking to the hare immediately. “Well, my name is Alderjack, an’ this is my friend Treescamp. Pleased to meet you too, mate.” Smiled the blond squirrel. “Are you two laddie bucks fightin’ to defend your blinkin’ Abbey, wot?” inquired the hare. “Only for a little. Then we’re going to save some stolen Abbeybabes, a price sword, and a tapestry. Those disgusting vermin will think twice about stealing Redwall’s treasures, especially the babies.” Replied Treescamp. Horlington gritted his teeth angrily. “Why those blinkin’ atrocious, slimy, absotootly revoltin’ fiends! I’m coming with you, wot, wot!” As the three friends walked out onto the walltops, Horlington suddenly shoved Treescamp over as an arrow zipped right past him. “Watch out there, chappie. Some flippin’ archer nearly got you there, wot.” Said the Long Patroller “Whoa! That was close. Thank-you so much! But now we have to see what this ugly snot head wants.” Said Treescamp. Voskriss stared up at the walltops. “I don’t want to zee zome zupid zquirrels or a fancy talking rabbit. Where’s the Father Abbot?” he hissed. As if on cue, the wise mouse appeared up on the walltops. “Right here, my child. What do you want with our Abbey? If is not hospitality from the goodbeasts that live here, I cannot give much else. Redwall is a peaceful place, so if you want to make trouble, you might as well give us the babes and leave, or be defeated.” Answered Abbot Arstead. By now, all the fighting beasts had gathered along the walltops, including Alderjack and his friends. “No! You have to earn your zilly infantzzz. We will kill every one of you that fightzzz or doezn’t. Thizzz izzz war! Chaaarrrrrgggggeeee!” the monitor howled. The normally peaceful Abbot shook his head. “I give you no choice. Rrrreeeeedddddwwwwwaaaaalllll!!!”

Chapter 9

Syzran was pacing around his tent, chatting with himself. “Woodlanders are so predictable! While my soldiers are fending off the Redwallers they are going to send out a small group of heroes to get their precious babies, catch the bad guy off guard, kill him, end evil in Mossflower, and gain a whole lifetime of peace and eternal happiness until the next cocky leader comes up and tries to take it over. Then the whole process restarts all over again with a different warlord. But I’m not just some other warlord. Ha! I have those stupid bumpkins this time!” the fox suddenly turned to see Foggle staring at him strangely. “Urr…You ok, chief?” questioned the stupid fat ferret. The tall orange fox gritted his teeth and slapped Foggle. “O’ course I am, ferret. Remember, once we slay the rescuers, we move on to Redwall.” Syzran said. “Make yerself useful and gimme Jegru some of that grog that we got from when we killed all those searats. Wonderful stuff, but it was the last time any of those little rats had any! Harhar!” he chuckled. “Yessir!” replied Foggle as he lumbered off towards Jegru’s tent. The ferret advisor/captain and Foggle returned with the grog. “Ferret, yer excused.” Once the soldier was away, the fox and the ferret had begun reviewing battle plans. “You see, I told the lizard to tell the Abbot mouse that they would have to take their babies back themselves, so when they send out their little heroes, there will be another, smaller army behind them. The rescuers will be trapped and killed, and the woodlanders will not even know, thus letting their guard down. The invaders will pretend to retreat, come back with heavy reinforcements, and then defeat the Abbey.” Grinned Syzran maliciously. The ferret looked impressed. “Wow, chief…” Suddenly, he was whacked across the face. “Call me your majesty, pondscum!” Dozens of Abbeydwellers and Long Patrollers were out on the walltops, slinging stones, throwing spears and shooting bows, which the Long Patrol hares had obtained. Meanwhile, another group was down outside the walls, Alderjack, Treescamp and Horlington among them, all with supply packs. “Whoooohahaha! Nuttin’ like a blinkin’ battle to get the jolly old blood pumpin’, wot!” yelled Horlington, twirling through enemies like a gale. Alderjack slashed through a weasel, armed with a stolen sabre. “C’mon, mates! I’d really hate to leave the Abbey behind, but we have a job to do.” The three young creatures plowed their way through the vermin, knowing that the soldiers would not realize two squirrels and a hare slip from the bunch. A stoat ran over to intercept them, but Treescamp slew him with one swift thrust of his long dagger. The adventurers dashed into the trees, seen by no one else. Now that they were within the leafy shelter of Mossflower, Treescamp grinned giddily. “Yay! We made it into the woods!” Alderjack shook his head. “Yeah, but there are still many dangers. I already knew there would be, but Martin mentioned vermin bands, toads, rapids, snakes, big birds and muck.” Horlington looked into his pack. “Well, what is there to eat in here for a starvin’ handsome hare, wot?” Treescamp looked Alderjack. “Knowing Friar Blumself, probably really good stuff. If you’re hungry already though, maybe I should hold the food, Mr. Ten-Bellies!” The hare looked offended. “ME? Rats and phooey, old lad. If I had 10 flippin’ bellies, it would ruin my h’absotootly h’exquisite complexion, doncha know! Scoffing’s an important part of the day. All 7 times a day, wot, wot!” Alderjack biffed him slightly with his bushy tail. “You flop-eared glutton! You may have 1 belly, but the other 9 are inside it.” Even so, the golden squirrel pulled out warm oatcakes. “Good ‘ol Blumself. He must have known you were with us, or he wouldn’t have packed so much! Here, friends, there’s more than enough.” Horlington beamed. “Oh, tophole old lad! I knew you would see this famishin’ creature’s point of view!” They dug into the bags and talked as they walked along. “I hope the defenders are doing fine.” Said Treescamp. “Oh, they’ll be fine! Redwall’s tough. The good ‘ol Abbey’s been around since the times of Martin the Warrior.” Replied Alderjack. Horlington looked up at the sky. “Well, chaps, I guess it’s getting time for us to get some jolly old shuteye, wot.” The two squirrels looked at him strangely. “What do you mean? It’s not that late. Horly! Horly?” The hare was fast asleep. Suddenly, Treescamp yawned and promptly fell flat on his face and started snoring. Alderjack sniffed the air. It smelled like lavender and honey, just like in his home in Mossflower. “Go to sleeeeppp, Alderjack. Shut your eyyyyessss.” Said the remaining conscious squirrel’s brain. Alderjack was soon on the floor, hugging his fluffy tail, dreaming like a babe. Four skinny creatures covered with shrubbery and war paint trundled out of their hiding spots. “Heeheehee! Lotsa cappives for da chief Mangarooka. “Flitchaye! Flitchaye! Flitchaye!” the weird little creatures chattered as they bore the friends off to their camp.

Chapter 9

“C’mon mates! Redwall!!!” howled Skipper over the fray. “Eulalia!” “Give ‘em blood ‘n vinegar!” The hares and a couple able-bodied Redwallers were out on the ground. The burly otter was tough, but he had a stoat and two weasels all on him at once. Luckily, the hare Blademaster, Sergeant Swiftbuck was there to help. He was an amazing sword fighter and cut down all three vermin. “What ho, laddie buck looks like you were in a spot of trouble, wot!” The otter got up, clutching his javelin. “Thanks, mate. Let’s give ‘em blood ‘n vinegar!” They returned to the fray, roaring warcries. What they made up for small numbers was skill, even though they were getting pushed away.” Up on the walltops, the ground loving mole leader did not like the looks of things. “Hurr, they’m bees gurt foiturs, but they’m bees getten pushed bark h’away froom thee H’abbey, zurr.” Foremole informed the Abbot. Abbot Arstead and his mole friend trundled down from the walls. The old mouse’s face broke into a grin. “Foremole, remember those catapults I the cellars?” Foremole started smiling too. “Yes oi do Farther Hoobit. ‘An oi think oi’m thinkin the sarm thing!” Brother Partlow, a sturdy young mouse and some of Foremole’s crew dragged out the great weapon onto the Abbey Lawn. “Lookit oot, zurrs! Cattypoolter coomin’ through!” Yelled Foremole. The Redwallers on the walltops ran out of the way. “Ets all yurrs, Roobil!” Roobil the mole took out his knife and sliced the rope! “Push forward, chaps! There’s a load of babies and old ‘uns in that Abbey!” yelled Brigadier Elton Harringworthy. The vermin had ceased attacking the fighters and were now going to the weaker Abbey! But before the defenders could chase them, a barrage of earth clods, rocks and dirt rained upon the vermin force! There was a cheer from inside the Abbey walls as the missiles struck down the vermin like flies in a hurricane. Even though they still vastly outnumbered them, all the soldiers heard Gritsnout shout, “Retreat, horde! Into the woods!” Syzran’s horde was gone for now, but everybeast knew they would be back. “Good show, chaps straighten up and on to jolly old Redwall! Time for a spot ‘o sup, wot, wot!” bellowed the Brigadier.