They Thought Redwall was Safe! (Is Redwall as Safe as they Say it is? Part 3!)

[LT Sandpaw]

OOC: Hey, sorry for my sporadic posting. Chalk it up to me being busy, or lazy, or both. Anyway I promise to try and be more consistent, try very hard and probably wont be all that successful. Ahem.

IC:

   Something wasn't quite right about Maxy's answer, but Bracklew couldn't put on a claw on what. The younger squirrel's nervous glance towards Fastooth, the rat's quick interjection, and the disquiet Bracklew felt at his eerily familiar voice. He knew this rat, and that didn't sit well as Bracklew couldn't recall many rats he didn't want to slay from his past, excluding Fang of course. He'd have to keep a closer eye and an ear on this Fastooth.
   "Once we've gathered enough volunteers to join us we'll need a guide there.  Maxy, that'll be your job. Consider it, your first mission as prospect Abbey Warrior." Bracklew gave a tiny shake of his red fur. He couldn't help it, the words left a sour taste in his mouth. "For armaments we'll make use of the horde's captured gear stored in the bell tower. It'll be rusty, but serviceable. The real issue is willing troops. Duncan how many fighters do you think we can rustle up in a quick notice?"

   Ranye looked up from the book she was writing in, peering at the abbot through her crystal spectacles. "Oh hello Father Abbot, I was just finishing up my thirteenth chapter. Hm, I wonder if that's unlucky?" She blew on the wet ink to dry it, setting the large, half-filled tome in a beam of red light streaming from the stain glass windows. "What are those young'un's planning now? Seems to me like Bracklew's got something grandiose up his sleeve."

[Ashleg]

"We could send a messenger out to the Guosim, or involve Skipper and his otters." Duncan said, catching the look on Bracklew's face when the squirrel looked at Fastooth and nodding skeptically. They'd have to talk about that later.
"I admit there's been...issues to deal with...some of the times, and I've been practicing daily, but I haven't been in a large fight like this is going to be in years. The more soldiers we can get, the better."

Maxy could only nod, feeling a rush of things--excitement, and nervousness, and gnawing, bitter guilt. He could still speak up in time to stop whatever needless bloodshed might occur, but Fastooth seemed so set on his answer that surely interjecting would put the rat in a bad sort of limelight in front of his father and brother...something Maxy did not want to happen. The young squirrel blew air from his nostrils and fidgeted his paws.

--

"That's calming," Grant muttered sarcastically, wringing his paws together and blowing on them.
"Bracklew and Duncan are organizing an attack on Mossflower's tree rats, as they have pinpointed them as the ones who killed Stumbly." he tucked his brown paws into his habit sleeves. "I, for one, am not too happy with the idea. But there's no stopping warriors once they've set their mind--especially Duncan and Bracklew."

He shut his eyes.

"So, what are you reading? I was going to ask if you could take some leftovers up to Rappy when you go up for the night, but I may come with you. I have still been feeling...feverish."

[LT Sandpaw]

   "Good idea, though I'm not sure we have any sure way to find and contact the Guosim, at least not within a moment's notice." Bracklew caught Duncan's silent recognition of his qualms. Setting his claws into the table's oaken wood the squirrel felt better for the seasoned hare's support. Despite their flared tempers earlier out in Mossflower wood, Bracklew did not doubt for a second he could trust Duncan with his life, and so much more. He needed to know about Maxy's vison. Bracklew resolved to tell him whenever they were alone again.

   "Certainly Duncan, if you don't mind finding somebeast competent enough to take a message to the River Moss to hopefully find the Guosim. We can rendezvous with them near the tree rat's hideout. They'll need a guide..." Tapping his claws Bracklew suddenly switched his gaze to Fastooth. "Oi rat."

   "Oi treemouse?"

   Bracklew's red ears twitched, but he didn't rise to the bait. "How would you like to give us a paw here? If you could accompany whomever Duncan decides to go ask for the Guosim's aid, then guide them all to the tree-rat's hideout."

   Fastooth gave an involuntary jerk, looking and feeling distinctly uncomfortable about this proposal. He gave Maxy an imploring glance, while squirming under Bracklew's hot-eyed stare. "Erm, er, I mean, shrews innt th' most understandin' o' critters. I'd rather keep me neck n' shoulders attached thank ye much. Tho', if'n Maxy thinks it's a good plan... Heh, do ye Maxy?"

~*~*~

   "Not reading," the healer corrected, giving the pages a few more waves from her paws. "Writing. It's my herbalist glossary, and medical journal. I figured I might as well add something to our dwindling library. Do you recall how all those books were destroyed and used as fire kindling during the occupation?" Wiping her inky paws on her habit Rayne jumped from her chair, leaving the book where it sat. "We certainly can, Rappy could use a decent meal in him, he's not been looking so good. And I can give you some tonics for you fever. Tell me, is it a head cold, clammy paws, a sore throat, or just chills?"

[Ashleg]

"Oh?" Maxy jerked his head up. "Think it's a good plan? You going to find the Guosim, I mean?" Fastooth was smart, and the young squirrel trusted his father to make a good choice of the beast that would be accompanying the rat. He dared a reassuring smile.
"I do. You're my friend--and whoever Dad picks will make sure the shrews don't do anything bad to you."

Duncan thrummed his big paws on the table.
"It's settled then, wot! I'll ask Petu if he would like to be the one who goes with him."

--

"A conjunction of each of those things," whispered Grant, shepherding Rayne towards the door. "Along with intense tiredness and some coughing. Please, keep this knowledge from the others. I don't need them to worry about me."

The mouse glanced about, then wiped his brow and gestured towards the ajar kitchen doors.
"The food we did not eat is in some piles on one of the tables."

[LT Sandpaw]

   "Thas' reassurin' Maxy." Fastooth said, though he didn't sound fully convinced. "An' who's this Petu feller I'll be goin' wit'?"

   "A rabbit friend of ours." Bracklew nodded in approval, liking Duncan's choice. Petu was both swift and sensible, holding a decent relationship with the Guosim and possessing a respectable knowledge of Mossflower. "While you're doing that Maxy and I will gather whatever weapons we can, along with some volunteers and begin preparing for battle. Fastooth, we'll be meeting about a kilometer out from the rat's hideout at dawn tomorrow, any place you know of that'd serve as a decent staging point?"

   The big rat though for a moment, stroking his scraggly whiskers. "Uh, jus' along th' river ought to do it. Maxy could show ye. If ye stay on th' north bank we couldn' miss each other. We' ad' to cross it twice actually, an' tha's when we met up wit' ol' Afagon an' Oriff. It leads close to them varmints' tree grove."

`
~*~*~*~

   "Hm, well my yarrow and ginger root tonic should clear it up right quick. I'm sure there's no need to be concerned Grant, beasts fall ill all the time. You're probably just exhausted from our ordeal, and then with poor Stumbly... Some of my medicines combined with ample rest and good food shall clear it up like that." She clicked her claws before bustling into the kitchen to make up a plate for Rapshade. Ladling cooled oatmeal and a few rolls onto a platter. Then she poured a wooden cup full of water finishing off the makeshift meal with an apple and plumb before returning to Grant. "This ought to tide him over for the morning." The little mouse healer then led the way up the stairs talking good naturedly, while pressing the Abbot about the upcoming battle.

   "Should I pack away some basic salves and bandages for them? I'd want to make up plenty for any potential wounds. How many days did you say they'd be gone again?"

[Ashleg]

"I didn't."
The stairs behind them, Grant paused by the door to the infirmary, shooting a sidelong look at Rayne out of tired brown eyes. His words left his tongue without a thought--and rising frustration boiled inside him, making him warm.
"Why do they have to do it? Vermin in primitive tribes are loud and rarely travel alone. It makes no sense for one to...to wind up here, of all places, and murder one of ours without anybeast noticing!"
He put his fist to his forehead and leaned on the wall.
"It feels so terribly wrong, Rayne, and yet I know they would still do it if I told them they ought not to. The ravings of an old mouse do not hold up to the judgement of warriors."

--

"It's set," said Duncan smartly, rising from his seat.
"Fastooth, if you'd like to come with me, I'll introduce you to each other."

[LT Sandpaw]

 
         Patting the old mouse's paw Rayne stopped suddenly, obliging Grant to stand and watch with her. They were overlooking the Abbey grounds leading away from the infirmary window. Down below dibbuns played in the grass, the morning dew damping their fur as they jumped and rolled, giggling in their games. A few elders strolled by, conversing something unknown, carrying fishing rods in their paws, most likely off to battle some fish or another at the pond. It was a beautiful sight, and Grant's question posed a problem she could not justify, not really. Their home was beautiful, perfect from a certain point of view. Her point of view. And would she not be opposed to any Redwall being forced from their home, for any reason? Further along the wall a small group of creatures headed by Bracklew marched past, heading towards the bell tower and the weaponry stored within. A stark reminder of the looming conflict to come. "I don't know." She said at last, turning away from the window.

           "I don't think anybeast really understands the minds of vermin, not fully anyway. Maybe they thought she would have something worth stealing, or maybe they wanted to do other acts to her, or maybe even they had no reason. They just saw a lone, helpless mouse and acted as they pleased. I can't speak for what they did, only that it was wrong. Bracklew, Duncan, and all the rest. They are proud creatures, and to see such blatant evil wrought, right there on our doorstep, done to a lass they are sworn to protect no less. They cannot let such things rest. It feels wrong, you are right. To march upon another's home and drive them out, putting those who resist to the sword. Vengeance is a fickle concept. Perhaps they are wrong in doing so, or perhaps they are right. I do not know for certain.

           "Though I do know one thing. Your word carries more weight than you think. If you marched down there and commanded that they remain, demanding they sheath their weapons and spare those they wish to slay, I think they will listen. They might not like it, they'll argue and rave but you are their Abbot, and they will obey you. I think." She glanced once more out at the grounds, where a score of volunteers had assembled, arms and armor glimmering in the soft light. Two broke off from the score, shown out the small wicker gate, heading east, a cotton tail and scraggly ears the last thing she saw before the gate was close and bolted behind them. "Most of them at least."


        Several Hours Past (Or Six months, I'm so Sorry Ash)


   The going was easy enough at first. The dusty path proved as always a simple thing to traverse, with no foe or trouble waylaying their progress. It was when the duo abandoned the path that the journey began to stall. Nevertheless both rat and rabbit pressed on resolutely. For his part Fastooth was a skilled scout, knowing how to pick and piece his way through even the thickest underbrush and tangles. Petu was less capable in his woodcraft, but he refused to show any weakness to this strange new ally. He kept pace, but was rewarded for his efforts with thorns and scrapes aplenty. They'd been introduced by Duncan, who'd explained their mission in detail, even providing a general idea of where the Guosim might be. Besides a few curt greetings, and the occasional necessary word the spoke little, holding their silence in the light of their slightly awkward company. By midday they spotted smoke columns rising above the trees, and Petu's sensitive ears detected the sound of flowing water, they were getting close. Another few minutes found them emerging from the brush into a clear patch of tall grass, the ground spongy and wet underpaw. They rested for a moment beneath a twisted willow, discussing their plans on approaching the Guosim shrews.

   "I'll take point here." Petu was saying while picking at a briar stuck in his fur. "We don't want anybeast spotting you approach and thinking they're being attacked. The Guosim are tough warriors, and fiercely protective. They might stick ye first and ask question later if they see your ugly mug coming at them. On that note, better pass me that blade as well, I'll keep it until the situation is explain. We don't want our friends getting the, wrong idea."

   Fastooth laid a protective claw on his sword, donated to him from the Abbey's armory. "ant off rabbit. There be no way I'm approaching those damn half-mice wit' nothin' to protect meself with. I know shrews purty well y'know. An' I ain't fond o' em, jus' as they ain't fond o' rats. You walk in front, aye, but I keep me sword, and a paw on the hilt as well."

   Petu's brow furrowed, but he made no further argument, simply shrugging and standing up. "Be on you then." With that they were off again, striding boldly across the open marsh grounds bordering the river. When they came in sight of the shrew encampment Petu raised a paw, calling out to the sentries picketed around the borders.  "Ahoy Guosim! Redwallers and allies approach, we've come seeking counsel with Log-a-log Gruddil. Is he here by chance?"


OOC: We're back, or at least I am!

I figured you'd want to start off Bracklew, Duncan, Max, and the other volunteers arriving at the rendezvous point whenever you feel its prudent.

[Ashleg]

OOC.
You're good, but a warning would've sufficed, haharr. Wahoo!
IC.
Nighttime crickets created a gentle serenade for the oncoming attackers.
Duncan crept up behind Maxy and Bracklew, drawing his blade. "Are we there?" he whispered.
Maxy stuck out a paw, and the group halted. His nose and ears twitched while he analyzed the area in silence, and then gave a short bob of the head. "Yes." His conscience screamed at him. This is wrong. Why hasn't Fastooth joined us yet? These rats didn't kill Stumbly...
The white squirrel's mouth felt parched.
It's too late to turn back now. You'll just have to attack them.
"Dad...?"
"Yes, Maxy?"
"What if... what if the rats did nothing wrong?"
Duncan was silent.

--

Rapshade was startled awake when Rayne returned to the infirmary, much too late for his liking.
He lifted his head and lurched forward, the chain around his wrist clinking.
"Ma'am.. Why is it so quiet?"

[LT Sandpaw]

   The long grass tickled Bracklew's nose, making him screw up his face to keep himself from sneezing. They were in an unfamiliar area, deep into Mossflower with less than thirty armed creatures, and a plan to drive out an entire tribe. The doubt and fear that plagued Bracklew before every inevitable battle began to grow, taking root and spreading like some foul weed throughout his mind. Gritting his teeth Bracklew ignored the sense of dread, it would pass, it always did. Straightening up he pressed his back against a tree, keeping his voice low as the Redwallers settled in all around them, making themselves comfortable until the shrew reinforcements arrived.

   "I wouldn't call murdering Stumbly, and kidnapping you 'not doing anything wrong' Max." Bracklew breathed. Digging around in his pockets he produced a whetstone, bouncing small metal rock in his paw. "You're getting jittery most likely, your nerves are starting to act up and you can smell the fear all around you. We stink of it. It happens to everyone, even me and your da. Look, see." Bracklew showed Maxy his paw, an unmistakable tremor running down the warrior's one good limb. "It's the battle terror, I can't really explain it. But, it makes you think strange, and wonder if you'll die, or if you'll have to kill. Can you kill, can you die? All those thoughts, and doubts, and fears. It's best not to dwell on them. Keep your paws busy and you mind focused, I find the whetstone the best way to do that. Martin's sword doesn't need sharpening, but these blades..." Bracklew drew his dagger, laying the weapon so that it rested propped against his knee, the metal casing on his left arm pressing down so that the blade wouldn't slide. "I'll show you, if you want. A warrior should know how to put a proper edge on his sword."

~*~*~*~

   "Quiet? What do you mean Rappy?" Rayne padded over to Rapshade's space, pressing him back into the bed. For a moment she glared at the chains restraining him but made no comment. Instead she checked the ferret's temperature, drawing back his collar to eye the furless balding patches hidden by the clothing. Her customary inspection done she gathered up his empty tray and silverware, dumping it by the door. "Are you feeling alright? Do you need more of your medicine?"

[Ashleg]

Maxy took a breath and watched Bracklew hone his sword. He would like to learn it, and he watched with interest, but he couldn't keep his mouth shut no matter how timid his words may be.
"What if they didn't kidnap me or kill Stumbly?" the white squirrel whispered, eyeing his brother.

Duncan was busy getting the others in formation and ready to attack. Maxy felt sweat run down his face.

--

"I mean... it's not as it normally is. It sounds like there's hardly anybeast here. No voices from below..." Rapshade ran his tongue over his teeth and let Rayne examine him without a remark.
"It's as if most of them went away."

When she asked if he wanted his medicine, his eyes flicked and he nodded.

[LT Sandpaw]

   Bracklew blinked, stopping mid stroke to look up at Maxy. "Didn't they?" Concerned Bracklew slipped his dagger back into its sheath, taking ahold of Maxy's arm. Turning Maxy's arm so that he could see it in the dim light Bracklew traced the many lines of scratches with his eyes, the dull red clear against the white of Maxy's fur.

   "If they didn't, who else could have made these? Scratches like those, they're from a rat's claws. There is an assumption of guilt when somebeast attacks you, and the evidence is good. They'll run, or they'll die, there's no other way to ensure they won't hurt you or anyone else from Redwall again, other than that. You need to be brave, don't let your fear control your thoughts." Bracklew's face softened and his silently chided himself. Of course Maxy was being brave, hadn't he returned on his own to save that rat Fastooth? But rescuing ones friend, and outright attacking another beast with the intention to kill were two very different things.

   "Everyone here will understand..." Bracklew began, slowly. "If you want to stay here. If you don't want to kill."

   At that moment three logboats drifted around a bend in the river, their sleek chiseled bobbing silently upon the waves. Muted paddles raised and lowered, creating no splashes and avoiding scraping the boats' sides. At the prow of the lead boat was Petu, and a rather sick looking Fastooth, and the tough old shrew Gruddil. The rabbit raised a paw in greeting as the three logs boats nosed gently into the riverbank, him and two dozen shrew warriors leaping ashore.

   "We've got another twenty six fighters here including me, the rat, and Gruddil." He told Duncan as the shrews scurried about, beaching and disguising their log boats beneath the foliage. "We could have brought more, but Gruddil insisted only volunteers would have to join us."

   "Aye," Gruddil grunted, defending his decision. "A lass who thinks she knows the law better'n me, reminded me plenty O' times. I can't force Union members to fight for anybeast if us shrews ain't directly affected, an' plenty didn't like th' idea O' fighting alongside a rat. So these few are all we could rustle up on short notice. Lot of em are young, an' hot blooded. But they know how to twirl a sling, and stab with a rapier. They'll get th' job done."

~*~*~*~

    Rayne viewed Rapshade with a great deal more respect then she had previously. He was very observant to have noticed the difference. Fetching a bottle of potion from her cabinet she poured him a dose, diluting it with water before handing it to him. She considered whether it would be wise to tell Rapshade what was happening. Seeing no way he might act badly upon possessing the knowledge she shrugged, pointing out the window towards Mossflower.

     "You are right, of course. A great many Redwallers left not so long ago. Marched out to go fight these villainous tee-rats who murdered one of ours. Anyone who was willing hold a spear, or shoot an arrow. Bracklew and Duncan didn't want to take any chances, and I supplied them. Not that it concerns you much. Drink that now, all of it."

[Ashleg]

"They are from a rat's claws, but it's not because they attacked me, Fastooth and I attacked them because he--"
Maxy caught his breath as the boats pulled up in the river, and he noticed Fastooth and Petu and the Log-a-Log as the shrew went to talk to his dad. Hurriedly, he turned back to Bracklew, grabbing him by the arm.
"Listen to me, this is wrong, we can't do this!" he begged. "You can't massacre those rats!"

"Sounds good to me," said Duncan to Gruddil, raising his sword to the moon. The large trees loomed up all around them, and the hare was prepared to lure the rats to the ground. "Are your creatures ready? We attack on the count of ten. Any archers you have will be most useful if they aim their fire at the trees-- we're going to drive them to us."

--

"...Is that what Maxy was upset about?" Villainous tree-rats?
Rapshade gulped down his medicine, glad to have it watered down rather than straight like it had been for the majority of his life. He hadn't thought that vermin clans could be out there in Mossflower right at this minute, still killing. Something about it sent a stab through him. Grief for his past life, embarrassment, disgust... he wasn't sure.

When the medicine was drained, the ferret offered the empty cup back to Rayne, though he kept his eyes down.
"It's getting worse as I get older, y' know," he muttered sorely. "Every day I find less an' less fur. I worry about it."

[LT Sandpaw]

   "It is to be expected..." Rayne murmured, taking the vessel from Rapshade and rolling it in her paws. There'd always been a look of defeat about the ferret that went beyond his physical chains. He was ensnared mentally, locked behind the psychological iron bars of his own creation. Pity stirred in Rayne's heart for him despite herself. She knew of his evil, his wicked deeds perhaps better than most, having been so close to the physical devastation his acts inflicted on beasts. The names of the fallen she could utter without fail, and the many wounds were still burnt into her mind. But it didn't change the fact that a once proud creature was now reduced to this pale imitation of himself. Pathetic, enchained, and without purpose.

   "There is no cure, not that I know of. Your affliction can only be curbed, not stopped. And as we age our bodies break down, become weaker by the day." Rayne frowned, setting the empty cup on Rapshade's nightstand. "I might try and strengthen the dose... I would have to increase the nightshade, and valerian though, and it would make you drowsier than usual. I can't promise much, but it might slow the spread."

~*~*~*~

   Nodding Gruddil flicked his paws and a group of shrews gathered behind Duncan, nocking arrows to strings. The rest of their small army spread out, loading slings and readying spears. "Give the order, and we'll let our bows sing." A shrew said in a load whisper, nodding to Duncan that they were ready.

   Behind them Bracklew drew his sword, but he stayed beside Maxy, a confusion spreading across his face. "I don't understand...? You said they did. Why would you lie to all of us?" Fastooth having heard Maxy limped over, laying a one paw on the white-furred squirrel's shoulder, the other resting on his sword hilt. Bracklew stiffened visibly.

   "Yer botherin me good matey, ye cad. Th' poor lad's a'twitchin' like a leaf." Fastooth growled, his voice noticeably loud in the quiet woodland. A worried Redwall mouse cast them a nervous glance, pressing a claw to his lips, clearly disturbed by the sudden volume threatening their ambush. Fastooth lowered his voice, squeezing Maxy's shoulder comfortingly. "Wot th' lad is tryin' to say is that we ought not to murder 'em all. That's th' idea right? Scare 'em off let 'em run. Me cully here has a good heart, and he's afraid ye'll slaughter innocents. Not every one of these rats killed yer lass, wotever her name was."

   "Unhand him," Bracklew hissed, his hackles rising.

   "Ha," Fastooth scoffed, drawing his sword partway from its sheath. "Tryin' to change th' subject eh? Well hear me good warrior. This 'ere is my matey, an' he saved me life so I c'n trust him, and he c'n trust me. Now yew on th' other paw? I suspect you'd wanna come out here'n slaughter rats whether ye had reason to or not. Yer out here like a fox amongst th' chickens, hellgates, I bet'cha if'n I turned me back in th' fight you'd try'n murder me."

   "That's not true!" Bracklew advanced forward, his sword held out, the razor keen tip a fraction of an inch away from Fastooth's throat. Quick as a fish the rat jumped away, releasing Maxy and drawing his own blade.

   "I'll 'ave to keep me eye on you, squirrel." Fastooth grinned, spreading his arms wide to show he was backing down, he had no desire to actually face the Redwall champion, but he'd intervened, hopefully for just long enough...

[Ashleg]

Rapshade shuddered as if a ghost passed through him and bent over slightly, his eyes misty again, much to his aversion.
"You're too kind... far too kind..." The ferret's voice faded off with an uneasy cough and he sucked air through his teeth, trying very hard to build up confidence for what he was about to ask.
Oh, how wrong he felt about it. His remorse crushed down on him like the heaviest of stones-- fear, perhaps heavier, tied his tongue, urging his heart to race, and it seemed that nothing could bring him back down.
"Drowsiness... I can take," he murmured, biting his teeth in desperation. Terrified, he looked at Rayne, his reluctant words slipping past his tongue. "But please, I can't go on. I can't have my rib heal an' go back to how things were. You don't 'ave an assistant. Let me help you."

He could hardly believe his ears when he was done and pulled back, appalled with himself, cowering like he expected her to seize him by the collar and shake.

--

Maxy watched Fastooth go, almost unable to process what had happened, but he knew that what he'd been fearing occurred again. Fastooth was not going to allow the battle not to commence, and now Maxy was painted as delusional in the eyes of his brother, and perhaps a traitor in those of his friend.

He inserted himself in front of Bracklew before the red squirrel could say anything more. "I don't think my friend understood what I meant. What I'm trying to say is--"

"...Ten!" Duncan's loud whisper cut through the air like Martin's Sword itself.

The blade-carrying creatures all rushed forward at once, and the archers fired their first volleys into the trees. A young shrew with a sword shoved past Maxy and knocked him on his tail, unable to see Bracklew through the attackers.
"No!"

--

Syccidth's jarring red eyes popped open without a moment's hesitation, just as Inyoni came racing towards him, screaming.
"Three dead! ... Arrows!" She dove into his arms.
Snarling, the chief booted her off him with a hefty kick, scrambling to his own paws on the branch. Hurriedly, he grabbed his sword and waved it about overhead. "Chah, ya schyoopid, KILL alla them! Blowpipes, yikkyik, get blowpipes! Poison! Everybeast, wake now, else die!"

[LT Sandpaw]

   Battle erupted all around as the sanctimonious Redwallers fell upon the unsuspecting tree-rats with a vengeance. A few animals tussled in the underbrush, punching and kicking and biting in an attempt to slay each other. The rats were outmatched, but more seemed to be approaching through the trees.

        Bracklew had dropped his sword, trying to catch Maxy as he fell, knocked over by the charging shrew. Cursing as his younger brother was lost amongst the crowd Bracklew scrambled to find his sword, something buzzing out from the trees and striking him in the throat. Grunting he brushed at the spot, a small dart coming loose in his paw. Glaring at the tiny projectile in partial amusement Bracklew tossed it away, bending over to retrieve his weapon.

   "Maxy!" He yelled over the clamor. "Max, get over to me!" He cast about, observing how a few other Redwallers and Guosim were brushing off darts that had hit them. One mouse was studying it, a perplexed look on his face. "They just sting a little," Bracklew yelled, shouldering the mouse. "Loose some sling stones back at them." While pushing the creature back into battle Bracklew spotted a flash of white fur in the dim light. "Max!" He cried, shoving his way over to the spot.

   Fastooth reached him first, holding a paw out to help the fallen squirrel up. "Y'right Max mate?" The big rat asked, a bloodied sword in his off paw and a grin on his lips. "Nothin' like a fight to get th' blood pumpin', ay?"

   "YOU!"

   Fastooth jerked around, his eyes skittering from the fallen Maxy he stood over, to Bracklew's furious face, and lastly to the bloodstained sword in his paws. "Oh fates. No wait!"

   The warrior of Redwall surged forward like an unstoppable red-furred demon, his sword flashing as it whistled through the air, colliding in a flurry of sparks with Fastooth's cutlass. In a heartbeat the two were exchanging blows faster than the eye could follow, swords clashing again and again, Fastooth defending, desperately, Bracklew attacking, his teeth gritted in an angry snarl.

~*~*~*~

   Surprised at this unexpected request Rayne was about to snap a firm 'no'. Rapshade, the pirate as her assistant healer? What foolishness. What would he know of healing, and caring for the ill and infirm? But she held her tongue, studying the ferret carefully. His near constant presence in the infirmary over the last thirteen seasons might have lent him at least a basic understanding of her work, and she could always use an extra set of capable paws. Perhaps not for full duties, but as an assistant. He could fetch, and carry, and gather ingredients, couldn't he?

   "I – I don't know about that Rappy..." She said hesitantly at last. "Most of what I do, its treating dibbuns scratches or elders coughs. Would you be willing to help me, with that? Would you be able to?"