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Description
Snowflake tossed and turned in bed during a fitful sleep. It had been many seasons since she’d had a nightmare. But now she was having the worst one ever. It was night and she was being chased by dark shape in the air with large, round eyes. Her chest burning and her legs aching, she ran to the Abbey as fast she possibly could. But when she got there she saw a horrific site.

Redwall Abbey lay in ruins. Some parts of it lay broken while others were on fire. The lawn was scattered with dead beasts while vermin ran amuck. One of them, a fearsome looking catlike creature, glared at her with eyes like yellow fire. A shadow fell over her. She turned, but instead of the bird, it was a large fox wearing a cloak and crown.

“NO, NOT YOU!!!” she screamed.

She shot up in bed, a forepaw on her chest. She got out of bed and threw open the shades to let in the early morning sunlight. She saw that the Abbey was intact and in peace. She sighed in great relief and relaxed. She took a moment to catch her breath before leaving her room to see the Abbot. She knocked quietly. She was surprised when he answered, sounding fully awake.

“Come in…ah, Snow, my child. What can I do for you so early?”

“Father Abbot…I had the most terrible dream…”

She sat down and told him.

“I haven’t seen had a nightmare about Salazar since I was a dibbun,” she said when she was finished. “And I don’t know what the rest means. I think the dream may’ve been trying to tell me something, as such dreams do here at Redwall…but I have no idea what any of it could mean…”

He put a paw on hers. “Don’t let it get to you. The fact we were warned will help us be prepared for when something happens. The spirit of Martin watches over the Abbey. Even when vermin to enter here and do damage, they are still defeated in the end. I will talk to the elders later so we can keep watch and be prepared. Thank you very much for telling me this.”

Snow sighed in relief, feeling better already. “Thank you, Father,” she told him with a smile before leaving. Now wide awake, she felt like doing some more work on her painting. She was making good progress and seeing her heroes should cheer her up.

***

Alphonse sighed after Snow left. He hadn’t told her, but he too had had a dream. Martin the Warrior had appeared before him and spoke a rhyme as a circle-one side white and the
other black—spun behind him.

“Night and Day/ Earth and Sky

Two creatures will lead the way

White and Black/ Caring and Brave

They shall save Redwall from the greatest attack

Two creatures not alike at all/

Shall be my most unlikely champions of all.”

Now thanks to Snowflake, Alphonse knew another crisis was coming at long last. He didn’t know when or how, but knew it would in involve an attack by Salazar the Wicked, a wildcat or something close, and what sounded like a bird of prey, even though every hawk and owl ever encountered by Redwallers had been allies. He would call a meeting of abbey elders and leaders to discuss this and prepare for whatever may come shortly.

***

The shrews Bringal and Armus were patrolling the wall top alongside Sammen.

“Don’t do much ta be a guard,” the otter told them. “Some days it’s jes’ walkin’ ‘round looking at the scenery for trouble that just ain’t there.”

“Well,” Armus told him, “we Gusiom are used to encountering enemies a lot more than you Redwallers.”

“There’s probably some scum out there planning to murder, plunder and enslave even as speak,” Bringal added, looking out over the landscape with a scowl.

They hadn’t been up there long when they heard a high, reedy sound. It was faint, but getting closer.

“What’s that?” Armus asked.

“Sounds a little like a fiddle,” Sammen remarked, eyes closed and head cocked to listen. “But with a higher sound and, I dunno…stronger. Like somebeast is playing it harder.”

“It’s getting closer,” Bringal said as the music got louder. “Whoever’s playing it is coming toward the main gate!”

They ran to the main gate to see a figure playing a stringed instrument with a bow. It looked like a fiddle, but sounded different. The music was a beautiful, stirring sound. But then Armus saw what was playing it.

“What the—that’s a weasel!”

“Hey!” Sammen called down to the creature at the gates. “Hey, you! Stop that playing so we can talk!”

The weasel stopped at the sound of being called. He smiled at them.

“Hallo!” he called up to them. “Would you be so kind as to give a poor, tired beast some food and shelter?”

“We would,” Bingal replied. “But all we see is a vermin making noise.”

“You’ve got a minute to start leaving before we get out arrows and javelins,” Armus said.

“Come now, come now,” the weasel said. “If I were a common thug, would I be standing here in the open at the main gate?”

“How do we know there isn’t a bunch of other vermin in hiding waiting to charge the moment the gate is open?” Sammen asked in concern.

“Because I am no horde or gang member. I want nothing to do with a group. And quite frankly, they don’t anything to do with me either. I am completely unarmed. The only thing I have on me is my precious violin and a flute.” With that he played some more sweet notes on his instrument.

Sammen looked at the shrews.

“Go get the Abbot. He’ll want to hear about this.”

“You mean you’re actually thinking of letting a vermin in?” Armus asked with great surprise.

“When was the last time you heard of a vermin approaching the Abbey gates and asking to be let in? They come to the gate with big hordes and big demands, not by themselves and askin’ nicely. Though bring some squirrels, more otters and the hares too just in case.”

Redwallers were aroused to the news that a lone weasel was at the main gate, asking to be let in and playing an instrument. Even as the main gate was open and he was surrounded by hares, otters, squirrels and a big hedgehog, he casually strolled through, never missing a beat on his violin. He stood there calmly playing his violin until Armus snapped, “Would you stop playing that?!”

He did. “Sorry. I thought it would help pass the time and keep everybeast calm while we waited.”

“That is surprisingly good music coming from a vermin,” Ichabod remarked.

“Why thank you!” the weasel replied. “I’ve been practicing long and hard.”

“I didn’t know vermin had a good ear for music,” Sommer said.

“They usually don’t,” the weasel said with a sniff. “My talents are wasted on tone deaf barbarians who want to listen to obnoxious joke songs or ballads that glorify the criminal life.”

“And what, pray tell, makes you so different?” Fleming asked.

“I shall explain that to the Abbot. He well ask questions every beast is thinking and I do so rather dislike having to repeat myself.”

“Then wait no longer,” Alphonse said as he arrived. He looked over the weasel and his instrument intently. “What brings you here?”

“I,” the weasel said as he slid the bow across his violin, “am Zachariah. Minstrel, cook, and cleaner, at your service. I have long heard stories about Redwall Abbey and have come to ask to stay here in exchange for room and board.”

“And why should we let a weasel of all beasts live here?” a squirrel asked with a frown.
Zachariah gave a dejected look. “Must you judge me based solely on my kind? Can’t a beast prove his worth through his actions?”

“Aye,” Sammen said in agreement. “Problem is that most vermin would rather rob or kill ya just as soon say hello.”

“…too true,” Zachariah said with a nod of agreement.

“Oh?” several Redwallers asked, surprised an argument didn’t start.

“I never knew my father,” the weasel told them. “He died in battle when I was but a babe, and mother told me he cared for neither of us. In fact, I my birth was unplanned and unwanted. My mother wanted me to grow up into a gentlebeast so I wouldn’t suffer my father’s fate. And to be brutally honest, I’m a lazy coward. If I will do anything to avoid battle. Why, I wouldn’t know what to do with a weapon if I had one!”

The others studied him.

“He certainly don’t look like a fighter, do he?” Armus commented.

“If he tried to hold a sword the weight would make him fall,” Bingal added contemptuously.

“I’d most likely injure myself before I injured any foebeast,” Zachariah remarked.

“But I still don’t like it,” Armus continued. “Who ever heard of a GOOD vermin?”

“I have,” a voice said.

Everybeast looked to see Snowflake step forward as she looked at Zachariah in fascination.

“It has happen few times and far in between,” she said, “but there have been vermin who aided Redwallers. Like Gingevire, a wild cat who helped Martin and the Corim free Mossflower from his sister, the wicked Queen Tsarmina. Romsca the corsair and Veil Sixclaw were ferrets who sacrificed themselves to protect am Abbot and future Abbess, respectively. Blaggut was a sea rat who avenged a slain badgermum and befriended Dibbuns while learning his skill as a boatbuilder. Grubbage was another rat who aided Champion Triss and her companions after the defeat of his crew and was well liked by the Abbey dwellers of the time. There was even an entire island of rats who became peaceful farmers after their masters, the Marlfoxes, were defeated.”

Everybeast in attendance stared at her in amazement.

“It should also be noted,” she added, “that not all woodlanders are always good. There have been shrews, voles, and even squirrels who tried to harm or even kill good beasts.” She smiled at the weasel. “So I say let him stay. We can just keep a close watch on him. Besides, Redwall could always use a bard.”

Zachariah gave a sigh of relief. “Thank you, sweet maid,” he told her gratefully as he played a note on his violin. “I shall do my utmost best to earn this honor.”

“Ya better,” Armus told him. “We’ll be keepin’ an eye on you. Makes me glad the Logalog made us stay here.”

“Fair enough,” the weasel replied with a shrug. “Though you’ll never find a more honest weasel.”

“Not that will take much…” Bringal said dismissively.

“Could be worse. You should’ve seen the unsavory bunch I saw in the forest on the way here.”

“Really?” Sammen asked.

Zachariah nodded. “A sorry little lot if I ever saw one. A group of several rats, two ferrets, a stoat and a magpie. Obnoxious creatures, magpies. And the way they talked there might be more.”

Sammen and the Abbot exchanged a concerned look. Vermin in Mossflower always meant trouble sooner or later, no matter how big or small.

“You can stay,” Alphonse told Zachariah. “But you will be under close watch.”

“Understandable,” the weasel replied with a bow.

Snow and Abbot Alphonse led Zachariah inside with a group following while another group got together to search for the vermin. The weasel looked around wide-eyed.

“Hmm, nice,” he remarked. “Very nice indeed. Not as opulent as the stories say, but still rather homey.”

“Don’t get any ideas, laddy buck” Ichabod told him, scowling. “If we even see you lean towards something the wrong way, it’ll be a hard time for you!”

“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of trying anything with a group of fine Long Patrol hares around,”
Zachariah told him congenially.

“You know of the Long Patrol?” Harriet asked.

“Only a complete fool wouldn’t! Anybeast who has never heard of the fighting hares of Salamandastron would have to have spent much of his life with his head in the ground. Though most vermin do seem to have rocks in their heads, don’t they?”

The three hares looked at him wide-eyed, as he’d spoken the remark just before any of them could.

“Now would you please be so kind as to spare a bite or two for a poor beast who hasn’t had a truly good meal in quite some time?”

“Of course,” Snow replied before anybeast could say anything, the hares and Bringal looking at her with great surprise.

***

Not far from the main gate, Lanara and Salazar watched as the group left the Abbey.

“Ah good,” Salazar remarked, “they’ve taken the bait!”

The plan had been to watch the Abbey. If no beast came out after a while, it would mean that Zachariah had been slain. But if some came out, that meant he’d told them enough about the gang to throw take attention away from him. What’s more, it would give Salazar and Lanara to learn at least some information about their enemies.

“Let’s see…otters, some squirrels, a shrew—” Salazar frowned. “Ugh, hares.” His frown grew. “Long Patrol hares…”

“I’ll deal with them,” Lanara told him. “Hares are good fighters. And I’ve always wanted to fight the Long Patrol.”

“When the time comes,” the fox told her. His eyes widened as he looked back to the group. “By the fang!”

“What is it?”

“I believe I know one of those long eared bastards…”

Description
Snowflake tossed and turned in bed during a fitful sleep. It had been many seasons since she’d had a nightmare. But now she was having the worst one ever. It was night and she was being chased by dark shape in the air with large, round eyes. Her chest burning and her legs aching, she ran to the Abbey as fast she possibly could. But when she got there she saw a horrific site.

Redwall Abbey lay in ruins. Some parts of it lay broken while others were on fire. The lawn was scattered with dead beasts while vermin ran amuck. One of them, a fearsome looking catlike creature, glared at her with eyes like yellow fire. A shadow fell over her. She turned, but instead of the bird, it was a large fox wearing a cloak and crown.

“NO, NOT YOU!!!” she screamed.

She shot up in bed, a forepaw on her chest. She got out of bed and threw open the shades to let in the early morning sunlight. She saw that the Abbey was intact and in peace. She sighed in great relief and relaxed. She took a moment to catch her breath before leaving her room to see the Abbot. She knocked quietly. She was surprised when he answered, sounding fully awake.

“Come in…ah, Snow, my child. What can I do for you so early?”

“Father Abbot…I had the most terrible dream…”

She sat down and told him.

“I haven’t seen had a nightmare about Salazar since I was a dibbun,” she said when she was finished. “And I don’t know what the rest means. I think the dream may’ve been trying to tell me something, as such dreams do here at Redwall…but I have no idea what any of it could mean…”

He put a paw on hers. “Don’t let it get to you. The fact we were warned will help us be prepared for when something happens. The spirit of Martin watches over the Abbey. Even when vermin to enter here and do damage, they are still defeated in the end. I will talk to the elders later so we can keep watch and be prepared. Thank you very much for telling me this.”

Snow sighed in relief, feeling better already. “Thank you, Father,” she told him with a smile before leaving. Now wide awake, she felt like doing some more work on her painting. She was making good progress and seeing her heroes should cheer her up.

***

Alphonse sighed after Snow left. He hadn’t told her, but he too had had a dream. Martin the Warrior had appeared before him and spoke a rhyme as a circle-one side white and the
other black—spun behind him.

“Night and Day/ Earth and Sky

Two creatures will lead the way

White and Black/ Caring and Brave

They shall save Redwall from the greatest attack

Two creatures not alike at all/

Shall be my most unlikely champions of all.”

Now thanks to Snowflake, Alphonse knew another crisis was coming at long last. He didn’t know when or how, but knew it would in involve an attack by Salazar the Wicked, a wildcat or something close, and what sounded like a bird of prey, even though every hawk and owl ever encountered by Redwallers had been allies. He would call a meeting of abbey elders and leaders to discuss this and prepare for whatever may come shortly.

***

The shrews Bringal and Armus were patrolling the wall top alongside Sammen.

“Don’t do much ta be a guard,” the otter told them. “Some days it’s jes’ walkin’ ‘round looking at the scenery for trouble that just ain’t there.”

“Well,” Armus told him, “we Gusiom are used to encountering enemies a lot more than you Redwallers.”

“There’s probably some scum out there planning to murder, plunder and enslave even as speak,” Bringal added, looking out over the landscape with a scowl.

They hadn’t been up there long when they heard a high, reedy sound. It was faint, but getting closer.

“What’s that?” Armus asked.

“Sounds a little like a fiddle,” Sammen remarked, eyes closed and head cocked to listen. “But with a higher sound and, I dunno…stronger. Like somebeast is playing it harder.”

“It’s getting closer,” Bringal said as the music got louder. “Whoever’s playing it is coming toward the main gate!”

They ran to the main gate to see a figure playing a stringed instrument with a bow. It looked like a fiddle, but sounded different. The music was a beautiful, stirring sound. But then Armus saw what was playing it.

“What the—that’s a weasel!”

“Hey!” Sammen called down to the creature at the gates. “Hey, you! Stop that playing so we can talk!”

The weasel stopped at the sound of being called. He smiled at them.

“Hallo!” he called up to them. “Would you be so kind as to give a poor, tired beast some food and shelter?”

“We would,” Bingal replied. “But all we see is a vermin making noise.”

“You’ve got a minute to start leaving before we get out arrows and javelins,” Armus said.

“Come now, come now,” the weasel said. “If I were a common thug, would I be standing here in the open at the main gate?”

“How do we know there isn’t a bunch of other vermin in hiding waiting to charge the moment the gate is open?” Sammen asked in concern.

“Because I am no horde or gang member. I want nothing to do with a group. And quite frankly, they don’t anything to do with me either. I am completely unarmed. The only thing I have on me is my precious violin and a flute.” With that he played some more sweet notes on his instrument.

Sammen looked at the shrews.

“Go get the Abbot. He’ll want to hear about this.”

“You mean you’re actually thinking of letting a vermin in?” Armus asked with great surprise.

“When was the last time you heard of a vermin approaching the Abbey gates and asking to be let in? They come to the gate with big hordes and big demands, not by themselves and askin’ nicely. Though bring some squirrels, more otters and the hares too just in case.”

Redwallers were aroused to the news that a lone weasel was at the main gate, asking to be let in and playing an instrument. Even as the main gate was open and he was surrounded by hares, otters, squirrels and a big hedgehog, he casually strolled through, never missing a beat on his violin. He stood there calmly playing his violin until Armus snapped, “Would you stop playing that?!”

He did. “Sorry. I thought it would help pass the time and keep everybeast calm while we waited.”

“That is surprisingly good music coming from a vermin,” Ichabod remarked.

“Why thank you!” the weasel replied. “I’ve been practicing long and hard.”

“I didn’t know vermin had a good ear for music,” Sommer said.

“They usually don’t,” the weasel said with a sniff. “My talents are wasted on tone deaf barbarians who want to listen to obnoxious joke songs or ballads that glorify the criminal life.”

“And what, pray tell, makes you so different?” Fleming asked.

“I shall explain that to the Abbot. He well ask questions every beast is thinking and I do so rather dislike having to repeat myself.”

“Then wait no longer,” Alphonse said as he arrived. He looked over the weasel and his instrument intently. “What brings you here?”

“I,” the weasel said as he slid the bow across his violin, “am Zachariah. Minstrel, cook, and cleaner, at your service. I have long heard stories about Redwall Abbey and have come to ask to stay here in exchange for room and board.”

“And why should we let a weasel of all beasts live here?” a squirrel asked with a frown.
Zachariah gave a dejected look. “Must you judge me based solely on my kind? Can’t a beast prove his worth through his actions?”

“Aye,” Sammen said in agreement. “Problem is that most vermin would rather rob or kill ya just as soon say hello.”

“…too true,” Zachariah said with a nod of agreement.

“Oh?” several Redwallers asked, surprised an argument didn’t start.

“I never knew my father,” the weasel told them. “He died in battle when I was but a babe, and mother told me he cared for neither of us. In fact, I my birth was unplanned and unwanted. My mother wanted me to grow up into a gentlebeast so I wouldn’t suffer my father’s fate. And to be brutally honest, I’m a lazy coward. If I will do anything to avoid battle. Why, I wouldn’t know what to do with a weapon if I had one!”

The others studied him.

“He certainly don’t look like a fighter, do he?” Armus commented.

“If he tried to hold a sword the weight would make him fall,” Bingal added contemptuously.

“I’d most likely injure myself before I injured any foebeast,” Zachariah remarked.

“But I still don’t like it,” Armus continued. “Who ever heard of a GOOD vermin?”

“I have,” a voice said.

Everybeast looked to see Snowflake step forward as she looked at Zachariah in fascination.

“It has happen few times and far in between,” she said, “but there have been vermin who aided Redwallers. Like Gingevire, a wild cat who helped Martin and the Corim free Mossflower from his sister, the wicked Queen Tsarmina. Romsca the corsair and Veil Sixclaw were ferrets who sacrificed themselves to protect am Abbot and future Abbess, respectively. Blaggut was a sea rat who avenged a slain badgermum and befriended Dibbuns while learning his skill as a boatbuilder. Grubbage was another rat who aided Champion Triss and her companions after the defeat of his crew and was well liked by the Abbey dwellers of the time. There was even an entire island of rats who became peaceful farmers after their masters, the Marlfoxes, were defeated.”

Everybeast in attendance stared at her in amazement.

“It should also be noted,” she added, “that not all woodlanders are always good. There have been shrews, voles, and even squirrels who tried to harm or even kill good beasts.” She smiled at the weasel. “So I say let him stay. We can just keep a close watch on him. Besides, Redwall could always use a bard.”

Zachariah gave a sigh of relief. “Thank you, sweet maid,” he told her gratefully as he played a note on his violin. “I shall do my utmost best to earn this honor.”

“Ya better,” Armus told him. “We’ll be keepin’ an eye on you. Makes me glad the Logalog made us stay here.”

“Fair enough,” the weasel replied with a shrug. “Though you’ll never find a more honest weasel.”

“Not that will take much…” Bringal said dismissively.

“Could be worse. You should’ve seen the unsavory bunch I saw in the forest on the way here.”

“Really?” Sammen asked.

Zachariah nodded. “A sorry little lot if I ever saw one. A group of several rats, two ferrets, a stoat and a magpie. Obnoxious creatures, magpies. And the way they talked there might be more.”

Sammen and the Abbot exchanged a concerned look. Vermin in Mossflower always meant trouble sooner or later, no matter how big or small.

“You can stay,” Alphonse told Zachariah. “But you will be under close watch.”

“Understandable,” the weasel replied with a bow.

Snow and Abbot Alphonse led Zachariah inside with a group following while another group got together to search for the vermin. The weasel looked around wide-eyed.

“Hmm, nice,” he remarked. “Very nice indeed. Not as opulent as the stories say, but still rather homey.”

“Don’t get any ideas, laddy buck” Ichabod told him, scowling. “If we even see you lean towards something the wrong way, it’ll be a hard time for you!”

“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of trying anything with a group of fine Long Patrol hares around,”
Zachariah told him congenially.

“You know of the Long Patrol?” Harriet asked.

“Only a complete fool wouldn’t! Anybeast who has never heard of the fighting hares of Salamandastron would have to have spent much of his life with his head in the ground. Though most vermin do seem to have rocks in their heads, don’t they?”

The three hares looked at him wide-eyed, as he’d spoken the remark just before any of them could.

“Now would you please be so kind as to spare a bite or two for a poor beast who hasn’t had a truly good meal in quite some time?”

“Of course,” Snow replied before anybeast could say anything, the hares and Bringal looking at her with great surprise.

***

Not far from the main gate, Lanara and Salazar watched as the group left the Abbey.

“Ah good,” Salazar remarked, “they’ve taken the bait!”

The plan had been to watch the Abbey. If no beast came out after a while, it would mean that Zachariah had been slain. But if some came out, that meant he’d told them enough about the gang to throw take attention away from him. What’s more, it would give Salazar and Lanara to learn at least some information about their enemies.

“Let’s see…otters, some squirrels, a shrew—” Salazar frowned. “Ugh, hares.” His frown grew. “Long Patrol hares…”

“I’ll deal with them,” Lanara told him. “Hares are good fighters. And I’ve always wanted to fight the Long Patrol.”

“When the time comes,” the fox told her. His eyes widened as he looked back to the group. “By the fang!”

“What is it?”

“I believe I know one of those long eared bastards…”