Author:
Mossyra of the Irresistible Imps
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Date Posted: 21:10:17 06/15/07 Fri
Quickdash blinked. He saw Salamandastron through a black mist, but he knew he was far away from his beloved home. Vermin appeared out of the mist, marching straight for the mountain. A lone hare was visible on the mountain. The hare was still young, but he had a silver stripe on one paw. The vermin surrounded him. Then, other creatures appeared. An otter with a horrible scar that was a contrast to her youth came out of the fog with a squirrel that had a stone pouch and sling, carrying a bow and arrows instead of the sling that her kind favored. She was followed by a young mouse weilding a beautiful sword that Quickdash recognized as the blade that had once belonged to Martin the Warrior. A badger with stripes like that of the ancient Badger Lord Sunflash the Mace appeared. They killed every one of the vermin, then walked back toward Mossflower. The hare followed them. They were suddenly in the fringes of Mossflower far from either Salamandastron or Redwall. Dead lay scattered carelessly and smoke still came from some of the dwellings that were around the area. A gloating army of vermin didn't see the small group, even as they were cut to pieces. Then the five were in front of Redwall Abbey, destroying another army in moments. A black mist seeped from the ground and began to obscure them, their relieved faces turning to twisted masks of horror, their mouths opening in silent screams . . .
A wildcat kicked his side, instantly waking him from the nightmare. "Get up, we're moving out," the beast told him gruffly before moving on to the next slave. Quickdash held his paw to his wildly beating heart, remembering the agony on the faces of the five young beast as the dark fog consumed them. He was sure it meant something, though he didn't know what.
The army moved at dawn, having found and provisioned an abandoned searat ship. Quickdash rowed with the other slaves, his thoughts far away as he recalled his dream in perfect detail.
Cruelclaw frowned as he remembered the hare they had captured at the mountain. He had seen the creature just before the slaves were herded onto the ship and his expression had been one of thoughtful horror, like a peaceful beast subjected to the aftermath of a vicious battle. The hare had probably been thining about a nightmare, but still . . . Cruelclaw kept a sharp watch on the slaves for the next few days, searching for signs of rebellion or murderous mutterings.
Lord Brockstripe ground his teeth angrily as he stared at the tiny dot on the horizon. The wildcat had kept them bottled up inside Salamandastron, watching all exits without attacking. After he had left, a count had been made and it was discovered that only Quickdash was missing. For nearly all of the fall, winter, and spring he had followed the murderous cat, stopping briefly at Redwall to rest. Now, the cat, his army, and whatever helpless creatures they had captured were gone, taken by the tide only minutes before he and his remaining Long Patrol members arrived. And Quickdash with them.
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