"Redwaaaaaaallll! Blood'n'vinegaaaaaar!"

Marlfox axes slashed the air and spears bristled in the night as the vermin pressed in. Anybeast unfortunate enough to fall was trampled flat in the melee. Though they were heavily outnumbered, the Noonvale Troupe were giving a splendid account of themselves. Florian had formed them into a tight circle. Standing at its center wielding a long grass rake, dealing out devastating blows over the heads of his companions to the rats who pressed them in on all sides, the lanky hare boomed out his challenge. "C'mon, babe-stealers, try me for size, wot! I'm the son of the rip-snortin' rat-tippin' Wilffachop, try stealin' me away in a sack an' I'll peel your hides to th'bone an' feed y'to each other!"

As soon as he heard the war cry of Redwall being shouted over by the southwest corner, Log a Log drew his rapier and roared out the battle call of the Guosim shrews.

"Logalogalogalogaloooooog! Chaaaaarge!"

The shrews took off at a dead run across the open land, whirling slings and slashing the air with their short rapiers. Gripped by the heat of the charge, Log a Log sped past Fenno, who had conveniently stumbled and tripped. The brave shrew Chieftain had made a fatal error, and the coward seized his chance. Jumping up, he threw his rapier like a spear, straight into the unprotected back of his Chief.

Log a Log staggered on a few paces then fell, unnoticed in the night by the other shrews who were running eagerly into battle. Sudden panic at the ruthless murder he had committed gripped Fenno. Turning, he fled back into the cover of Mossflower Wood.

Meanwhile, Skipper pounded on the main Abbey wallgate, calling urgently to the gatekeepers. "Open up, mates, we got the liddle 'un. Hurry now, Cregga marm's wounded!"

It took a moment or two for Butty and Nutwing to lift the heavy crossbeam out of its holders, then the gates creaked open. Skipper pushed Cregga and Dwopple inside, baring his teeth in a ferocious grin at the two elders. "Take care of 'em. I'm off back to the fightin'!"

Mokkan knew that his side had the upper paw. Triumphantly he was shouting orders to his Marlfoxes. "Predak, keep 'em pinned to the wall! Gelltor, attack those two squirrel warriors, keep them busy. Ziral, take more rats, stop that hare and his creatures breaking through the cordon!" Swinging his double-headed ax, Mokkan pressed forward savagely, fully intent on inflicting total retribution on the Redwallers, whose courageous but foolish ruse had gone awry.

Chapter 12.

The water rat, Beelu, stood on the lawn at the back of Redwall Abbey. His keen eyes soon spotted what he was after, a small dormitory window, below which was a protuberance in the shape of a gargoyle head carved onto a thick spur of sandstone. Beelu unwound a plaited hide rope from around his waist, freeing the three-pronged grapnel hook hanging from it. The water rat gave the tough thin rope a few swings, paying it out as he whirled the grapnel in a wide circle. When he was ready, he released the rope at the crucial point, allowing the hook to soar upward and latch over the gargoyle with a dull clank of metal striking stone. Beelu stood stock-still and waited for several moments, listening intently. When he was sure nobeast had heard the noise he began to climb swiftly, hauling himself up, paw over paw, with both footpaws braced firmly against the wall. Once up to the window he chose a tiny pane. Opening his belt pouch, he drew forth a piece of bark, plastered with a thick compound of honey and soil, which he stuck to the windowpane. There was virtually no sound as he dealt the bark a sharp tap with his dagger handle, but still he paused and waited. After a short time he peeled the bark from the thin glass, shards of broken window sticking to it like crystal. Cautiously the rat loosened more broken pieces from the pane, dropping them to the grass below. When he had enough space to work, Beelu put his paw through the hole he had made and undid the catch. A moment later he was inside the Abbey and on the dormitory staircase.

Dippler sat in the big ornate chair that had been used by all the Abbots and Abbesses of Redwall. The young shrew impudently placed both footpaws on the table and leaned back, lifting the visor of his heavy crested helmet. "Wonder 'ow 'tis goin' out at the southwest corner?"

Dann had his old copper helmet full of hazelnuts, which he was lining up on the floorstones and cracking with light taps of his spearbutt. He winked confidently at the shrew. "I'll wager those Marlfoxes an' their water rats are sorry they ever captured Dwopple. Our side'll be givin' 'em blood'n'vinegar an' their own tails for supper. What d'you think, Song?"

The young squirrel was standing in front of the tapestry, admiring the heroic figure of Martin the Warrior. "Oh, there's no doubt that the vermin are on to a good hiding and a lesson they won't forget. With warriors like your father an' mine, an' Skipper, we can't lose. Just look at this picture of Martin. I'll wager he could have cleared the lot up single-pawed!"

Dann stooped to gather the hazelnuts. "Nobeast could stand against Martin. D'you know, his sword hangs in Cregga Badgermum's room? Funny, though. The elders say that he often appears in dreams to Redwallers, to give advice and warn us if the Abbey's in danger. Wonder why he never appeared this time?"

Dippler tried unsuccessfully to straighten the rusty fold of his chain mail as he sprawled in the big chair. "Oh, I suppose Martin knows we can take care of ourselves. Don't forget, besides yore fathers there's my Chieftain Log a Log an' a fewscore o' Guosim fighters t'deal with. What's that?"

Song turned from the tapestry. "What's the matter, Dipp?"

"Did you 'ear a noise?"

Dann tossed a hazelnut and caught it in his mouth. "No. What sort o' noise was it?"

Dippler struggled out of the big chair. "Sort of like a clanky sound."

Song stole a pawful of Dann's hazelnut kernels. "Hahaha! That'd be yourself, Dipp. You make clanky sounds every time y'move in all that old armor!"

Beelu passed by the three young friends, hugging the shadows at the north end of Great Hall. When he reached the Abbey door he stood still awhile. Song and her companions had their backs to him, but there was no sense in taking chances. Pulling a small flask of vegetable oil from his pouch, he dripped it onto the bolts and hinges, and then, ever cautious, he gave it another couple of moments, listening to the gossip and laughter of the three youngsters out at the hall's center. The locks slid back smoothly, with scarce a sound or scrape. Beelu held his breath as he swung the door slowly open to admit the two Marlfoxes, Ascrod and Vannan, who had been waiting outside with the other rat Dakkle. Beelu placed a paw on his lips, indicating the three youngsters who had been left to guard the Abbey. Dakkle nodded, but Ascrod and Vannan were not paying any attention to Beelu. Their eyes were riveted on the wondrous tapestry that graced the west wall.

Friar Butty inspected the ugly gashes that had slashed through Cregga's paws when she had been grabbing sword and spearblades. He dabbed at them with a cloth that he was dipping in a water pail. "Be still now, marm, please. You'll have to stay here in the gatehouse awhile yet. There's no question of moving you, I'm afraid."

Nutwing spread a curtain across the mousebabe Dwopple, who was still snoring in the armchair. "Hmm mm. Been given lots of motherwort and a smidgen of valerian, I suspect. He'll probably sleep a good while. Mm, nasty! It looks like our badger has lost an ear."

Friar Butty took a peek, drawing in his breath sharply. "Great seasons, so she has, and will you look at this broken arrowhead sunk into her shoulder near the neck? Gracious me, Cregga marm, didn't it hurt you at the time?"

Spread out on the couch the huge badger snorted wearily. "I never felt a thing. In the old days, when I could see, they called me Cregga Rose Eyes, you know. My rage was so great in battle that nothing could stop me. I was possessed by a thing called the Bloodwrath, like most badger Warriors."

The Friar shook his head worriedly. "I'll have to go up to the Abbey. 'Twill take Sister Sloey's herb satchel, sewing twine and clean dressings to patch you up right. Now stay there and don't move!"

Nutwing ambled out of the gatehouse, muttering as he went. "I'll go, hmm, mm, I can still flap these stiff old wings a bit. You stay here, Butty, in case anybeast of ours comes knocking on the gate. I won't be long!"

The old owl hopped and flapped, sometimes touching the ground, other times with the grasstops brushing his talons. Faintly upon the night air he could hear the sounds of conflict from over the outer wall at the southwest corner. Surprised to find the main Abbey door half open, he shuffled in, blinking his eyes against the lantern and candle lights, and walked straight into the backs of Dakkle and Beelu. Still blinking, he called out, "Hmm mm, who's there? Is that Melilot?"

"Nutwing! Look out! Get away!"

At the sound of the owl's voice Song had looked up. She saw the four vermin in plain view, creeping toward them. Ascrod grabbed Nutwing. Using the flapping owl as a shield, he and his cohorts rushed the three young guards.

Song was dashing toward the Marlfoxes, her greenstone stick raised. Dann and Dippler seized their spears and charged after her. Dippler's helmet fell over his eyes, and the monstrous halberd he was lugging slipped sideways. Both he and Dann tripped on the shaft and went sprawling on the floor. Song was almost upon the Marlfoxes, her eyes glinting with the light of battle. Ascrod swung his double-headed ax, slaying Nutwing with a single blow. He pushed the owl's still flapping body at Song, bringing her down. The young squirrel's scream of horror was cut short as the ax handle cracked down on her head. Vannan and the two rats were upon Dann and Dippler before they could rise. Vannan's ax crashed down on the young shrew's helmet, leaving a long dent in it. Dann struggled to get up, but both rats jumped on him, cracking his head back hard upon the floorstones.

Ascrod sped across to the tapestry and began pulling it from the wall. A hubbub came from somewhere below, and the Marlfoxes heard the sounds of Redwallers on the wine cellar stairs. Vannan glanced about at the three fallen friends. "What about these? Shall I finish 'em off?"

Ascrod had pulled a chair across to the tapestry so he could reach the top hooks that held it to the wall. He snarled at his sister. "Idiot, what concern are they to us? This is the most valuable thing we've come on in many a season. Help me with it. Beelu, get outside and open the small east wallgate. Dakkle, lend a paw over here. Move, you fools, those Abbeybeasts will be on our heels in a moment. Hurry!"

At the southwest corner the fortunes of war had changed. Mokkan fought his way back through his own ranks until he was close to the ditch. It was the Guosim shrews who had saved the day. Charging wildly in at the rear of their foes' left flank, they swept all before them. As the enemy turned to intercept the Guosim attack, Skipper, Janglur and Rusvul led a push away from the wall into the ranks of the water rats. Mokkan was shouting now, realizing he had lost. "Retreat! Get across the ditch onto the flatlands! Retreat!"

Rusvul went down with a spear in his side, but Janglur stood over him, swinging his loaded sling. Rusvul was half up when he cried out, "Behind yer, mate, quick!"

Janglur spun like lightning, his whirling sling wrapping itself around the handle of the killing ax that the vixen Ziral was swinging at his head. He pulled sharply, dragging the short double-headed ax from her paws. Quick as a flash, the warrior squirrel caught the ax and swung at Ziral with all his might. That single blow finished the battle completely. The water rats who saw the beheaded Ziral lying on the path set up a wailing scream.

"A Marlfox is slain! A Marlfox is slaaaaaaiiiiinnn!"

In the blink of an eye the remaining Marlfoxes and water rats had abandoned the fight, leaping over the ditch and dashing headlong across the flatlands. Florian Dugglewoof Wilffachop waved his garden rake and started after the routed enemy, haranguing loudly. "Villains! Fiends! Pollywogglin' babe-snatchers! You shall feel our wrath, we will pursue you to the very cracks of doom! Come on, you chaps. Chaaaaaarge!"

Skipper grabbed Florian's frock-coat tails and hauled him back. "Leave it, matey, they still outnumber us two t'one. Let 'em go. We got our own to tend back 'ere."

Victory over the foebeast had been won, but at a terrible price. The Noonvale otter Borrakul sat wounded, cradling Elachim's head in his lap, repeating over and over, "My brother won't wake up. Wake up, Elachim, please!"

Runktipp took the slain otter gently from his grieving brother. "He ain't goin' t'wake up, friend Borrakul. Leave 'im t'me."

Janglur hauled Rusvul upright and supported him. "You all right, cully? That's a spear you got growin' out o' yore side!"

Rusvul gasped and winced as Janglur removed the weapon. "Never went in too deep. I'll live, mate. But that's more'n I can say for some who weren't so lucky!"

Skipper stooped over Tragglo Spearback, patting the Cellarhog's face and talking gently to him. "Tragg, come on, ole lad, don't go sleepin' there. We'll get y'back 'ome to a nice soft bed. Wake up now."

The old hedgehog's eyes fluttered open and he smiled weakly. "Slingshot. Must o' been a bit o' metal. It's still stuck in my 'ead."

A heart-piercing cry came from out on the open ground to the south.

"Logalogalogalogalog! Our Chieftain's doooooown!"

Florian, who was helping Runktipp to carry Elachim's body, looked around at the sound of the voice. "Wot'n the name o' seasons is that?"

The Guosim shrew Mayon strode up, ashen-faced. "'Tis the Guosim death cry. Log a Log is slain. Bargle found 'im."

Surprisingly enough it was Florian who restored order and got things moving. "Now there's been terrible battle done here this night, y'know, chaps, but we must attend the livin' first. Right, pick up the wounded an' let's get 'em inside the Abbey. When that's taken jolly good care of I'll organize a party to return for our fallen comrades. Come on now, please, can't sit about here weepin' all night, wot?"

Skipper shouldered Tragglo Spearback, regardless of his spikes. "Mister Florian's right, mates. Come on, let's git inside. There'll be elders an' young 'uns waitin' t'hear whether we won or not."

Emerging from the cloud shadow, a pale moon cast its soft radiance over the dusty path at Redwall's southwest corner, where so much had been won and lost that night.

Chapter 13.

Song felt a cool damp cloth bathing her brow as Grandma Ellayo soothed away at the red-hot hammers of pain pounding inside her temples. From somewhere above she could hear her mother's worried voice calling her back to consciousness.

Gradually her eyelids flickered open. She was lying on the floor of Great Hall with her head resting on Rimrose's lap. Janglur hovered anxiously in the background, pacing to and fro. When she spoke, Song's voice came from far off, as if it belonged to some other creature. "Unnhhh! Marlfoxes .. . where are they . . . Nutwing!"

Janglur breathed a sigh of relief. He knelt by his daughter. "My liddle Songbreeze, thank the seasons you got a head as 'ard as yore ole dad's!"

Groggily Song allowed herself to be led to a chair. She sipped a potion which Sister Sloey pressed upon her, gazing over the beaker rim at her two friends. Dippler's head was swathed in bandages, and Foremole Gubbio was showing the dazed Guosim shrew a massive dent in the big helmet he had been wearing.

"Hurr hurr, maister, you'm lucky yon 'emlet saved ee. Yore 'ead was loik to 'ave bin sliced in two. Burr aye!"

Dippler touched his bandaged pate gingerly. "Ooh! It feels like this 'ere lump is another 'ead growin' atop my own. Aye aye, Song, you awake at last? Where's Dann?"

The young squirrel was sitting hunched on a form, bent forward as Brother Melilot tended an ugly swelling at the back of his head. He winced silently as a compress was applied. The good Brother finished binding the damp herbs and patted Dann. "Pity 'tisn't winter. Ice would have worked well on that bump, but there you are, Dann, good as new. You'll live, young 'un!"

Dann stood shakily and stared about, seemingly unable to remember. "Phew! I feel terrible. What happened?"

Rusvul pushed aside two helpers who were dressing the wound in his side. Pulling himself upright on his javelin, the warrior squirrel glared contemptuously at his son. "What happened? I'll tell yer wot happened! You were left to guard the Abbey an' you let yoreself get knocked silly by a couple o' vermin! Nutwing was slain, aye, an' the great Redwall tapestry was stolen from the wall, that's wot happened! Were you playin' more games, solvin' puzzles, was it? No, 'twas crackin' nuts, I see by the shells all over the floor. Well, while you were doin' that the foebeast got in 'ere, cracked yore nut, murdered an Abbeybird an' robbed the very symbol of Redwall. Call yoreself a Reguba. Hah!" Quivering with rage, Rusvul snapped his javelin in two pieces and flung them from him, tears of anger glittering in his eyes. "I wish that spear'd gone right through an' slain me, rather than stand 'ere an' see the Reguba blood shamed by a son o' mine. Coward!" Turning his face from Dann, Rusvul limped off, out to the orchard to sit and brood while he tended his own injury.

Brother Melilot put a paw about Dann, shaking his head in disgust at Rusvul's outburst. "How could a creature say that about his own son?"

Dann tried to keep his face straight as tears poured unchecked down his cheeks. Janglur hurried across and threw a comforting paw around the young squirrel's shoulder.

"Shush now, Dann mate, yore dad didn't mean it. You couldn't 'ave done any more'n you did, all three of yer!"

The Guosim shrew Mayon marched in and threw a salute to Bargle, who was acting as temporary Log a Log. "They left by the east wallgate, Chief. I made shore it was all locked an' secure. Ahoy there, Dipp! Still alive, eh, mate?"

Dippler smiled sheepishly and held up his battered headgear. "Aye, but they killed this 'elmet. Was there any sign of 'em, Mayon?"

The shrew poured himself a beaker of October Ale and blew off the froth before drinking. "No, not a hair. They're long gone. All's quiet out there now, 'cept for mister Florian an' the others. They're puttin' our lost ones t'rest all together, just by the sou'west wallcorner inside the Abbey grounds. 'Tis a sad business, mates, very sad!"

Dippler looked away, scrubbing at his eyes with a spare bandage. "Ah, poor Nutwing. If only we'd been faster..."

"You mustn't blame yourself," said Mayon. "Three young ones against that evil scumyou didn't stand a chance. And you've heard that Log a Log is gone?"

"The Log a Log was like a father t'me. That ole shrew'll live fer ever in my memory. Wish I could get me paws on the vermin who slayed 'im. I'd make the scum pay, matey!"

Bargle looked up, surprised that Dippler did not know the truth. "'Tweren't no vermin that killed Log a Log. He never made it as far as the battle, Dipp. The scum that murdered 'im was Fenno. We found that'n's rapier buried in the Chief's back!"

Despite his injury the young shrew's teeth ground together hard. "Fenno, that big bully, where is 'e?"

Bargle accepted the beaker from Mayon and took a swig. "Nobeast knows. Fenno ran off like the slime that he is."

Dippler drew his rapier and licked the blade as a true Guosim warrior does before making a solemn oath. "Then I'll find Fenno someday, an' when I do this blade'll be wetted with somethin' else. My name is Dippler an' my word is as true as my sword!"

Gurrbowl Cellarmole came bustling down from the dormitories, shaking her head as she counted off bedspaces for the wounded on both paws. "You young 'uns, Dannflo', Dippler an' miz Songer, you'm all in marm Cregga's room whoile she'm a-layin' in ee gate'ouse. Though, dearie oi, oi doan't know 'ow she's goin' to go on when she yurrs about poor Nutwing."

Song's mother took charge. "Right. Come on, you three, upstairs with you and rest those heads."

Janglur took a stroll out to the orchard, where he seated himself beneath a pear tree, next to Rusvul. "So, me ole mate, you reckon yore son shamed the name Reguba?"

Rusvul stared straight ahead into the moonshadowed stillness. "Well, what d'you think?"

Reaching up, Janglur plucked a pear and rubbed it on his jerkin. "For wot 'tis worth, I think yore a great warrior, strong in paw an' brave in war. We carved a few paths in our younger seasons, you'n'me; we're still good pals an' always will be. But let me say this t'you, Rusvul Reguba. I never knew you was a foolish beast until tonight. Our young 'uns are the hope o' the future. They need t'be 'elped, not 'umiliated. It took no bravery to call Dann a cowardbe loves you too much to answer back. So all you did was to bring shame on yoreself by the way you talked to Dann. No, don't answer or argue, jus' think about it, matey. An' that's the advice of a friend." Without further comment Janglur Swifteye arose and walked off, leaving Rusvul to wrestle with the problems of his own stubbornness.

The three friends lay on Cregga Badgermum's big sofa. All three felt terrible about Nutwing. Dann felt it most. It was clear his father's onslaught had hurt him deeply. They sat awhile in silence, heads still throbbing, unable to sleep. Dann's eyes wandered to the sword of Martin the Warrior hanging upon the wall, and suddenly he sat bolt upright.

"Yes! Now I remember!"

Dippler cringed, putting paws to his ears. "Well, you don't 'ave t'shout about it, mate. Wot d'you remember?"

Dann got up and went to the sword, as if drawn to it by a magnet. "When I was knocked senseless, he spoke to me, Martin the Warrior!"

Song was curious. She watched Dann attentively. "Well, don't stand there gawping at the sword, tell us. What did he say to you?"

Dann automatically spoke the words triggered by the sight of the marvelous blade that Martin had once wielded.

"Four Chieftains going forth, To bring back Redwall's heart, Vengeance, honor, friendship, Each will play their part.

The flower bears my blade, And greenstick, Warrior's daughter, Join with the shortsword bearer, And one who lives by water.

Before the herald lark, Ere night's last teardrop falls, With none to bid you fond farewell, Go! Leave these old red walls."

Dippler stared at his two friends. "Sounds great, but what does it mean?"

Song shook her head in despair at the young shrew. "Honestly, Dipp, you're the blinkin' limit. It means we three are going to go out there and bring back the tapestry!"

Dippler thought about this a moment. "But we're not four Chieftains?"

The pretty squirrelmaid shrugged. "Well, I can't help that. If Martin has spoken we must obey. Though you're right, Dipp, there are one or two things about the verse that puzzle me. For instance, Dann said, the flower bears my blade. Who in the name of acorns is the flower?"