The Untold Story Of A Ravager Spy

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== A/N ==
Ok. This is the first fanfic I've actually posted for other people to read. So I'm pretty nervous about it, but I've had this idea in the back of my head for a while now and I decided to just run with it. 
Anyway, this story is based off of The Sable Quean, which is the 21st novel in the Redwall series. While my plot line is fairly similar to the original book, I tend to put my own spin on things and altered the storyline a bit. 
Umm... just a heads up, since this is the Redwall universe we're dealing with here, there will be battle scenes. Nothing too graphic, but just prepare yourself. 
== Chapter 1 Please Don’t Let Me Fall Asleep ==
Fire. He opened his eyes and saw nothing but fire. The air around him was thick with the cent of burning flesh, and scorched foliage. The only other sensation he could make sense of was his ears burdened with the continual sound of falling debris and shouting. A cursory glance about the premises confirmed his suspicions of bodies being burned. They were everywhere. Some of them the enemy, some of them good soldiers and former comrades. In short, the once peaceful quarry had turned into Hellgates themselves. 
His eyes settled on a particularly disturbing sight. It was a young rat, no more than fifteen seasons old, who had been impaled through the chest by a spear. The creature’s blood colored the naturally red stone even more crimson, and it’s lifeless eyes still portrayed terror as they stared straight ahead. The observer looked at the fallen soldier with a sigh. 
Surely the families of these creatures are going to want an explanation as to why their loved ones did not return. But how to explain something like this… 
The creature was torn from his thoughts as a loud growl rang out, followed by an all too familiar voice. He turned just in time to see a massive badger in a duel to the death with a smaller creature. A closer look betrayed the latter to be a silver colored sable in a dark red cloak. He watched the sable skillfully leap down from a high rock and slash the badger across the face with his broadsword in mid air, before landing gracefully on the quarry floor below. However, the badger made a quick recovery, and it was only a fraction of a second later that the sable had to leap to the left to avoid being crushed by the badger’s giant paw. 
The spectator watched with a hopeful smile. Perhaps they could pull through the carnage and win the day after all. 
A sudden chill ran down the onlooker’s spine as he felt a rough paw grab his shoulder. He didn’t really want to turn around and look at his assailant, but he knew he must. 
The creature's eyes widened as a large, muscular hare held a broadsword above his head, poised to plunge the blade into his skull at any moment. 
The hare spoke in a cruel teasing manner as he waved his blade dangerously close to his victim’s face. “Ah, wot’s wrong old chap? I’m sure all your other pals are just raring to have you join them in Hellgates!”
At this very moment, the creature's paws were tied. This hare obviously meant business, and had superior strength to back him up. Even if he could escape the hare, there was nowhere to run. Resigned to his fate, the creature tensed, preparing for the split second pain of the blade entering his skull and to succumb to sudden darkness. 
But by some miracle, the hare let go with a gurgle of pain. Confused, the creature looked up to find the silver sable pinning the hare to the ground. The hare’s look of smugness was replaced with one of utter terror as the sable held the blade of his broadsword against his throat. 
“P.... please. Spare me!” Was the hare’s pathetic response. 
The sable now adopted the look of smugness as he teased his victim cruelly, pressing on the hare’s throat with the blade just hard enough to draw a thin stream of blood. “What’s the matter? Afraid you won’t get accepted into Dark Forest and have to settle for Hellgates instead? Well I’ve got a couple old friends there, tell them their good pal Armuk Rinn says hello if you run into them!”
The hare’s former victim stood by and smiled as Armuk Rinn raised his blade above the beast’s throat, preparing to behead it. 
However, a sudden crash caused the observer to look up. He felt his blood run cold as the massive badger came into view. Up close, he could see the badger’s eyes were blood red and had a crazed look about them. The mad creature was headed straight toward Armuk Rinn. 
Without thinking, the bystander yelled, “Uncle look out!”
The silver sable released the hare and lunged for the badger. Knowing there was no way to defeat the beast with strength, Armuk Rinn tried a different tactic. 
Making sure the badger was still following him, Armuk Rinn ran up the cliff side. He was heading for a pile of loose rock with the badger right on his heels. While the far more agile sable was able to jump over these rocks without incident, his assailant was not so lucky. With a loud crash, the weak cliff side gave way under the badger’s weight and the mad beast got swept down to the quarry floor by the avalanche. 
Armuk Rinn leapt down the cliff side and landed on a large stone beside where the badger lay trapped under rubble on the quarry floor.  
Pleased with his quick thinking, the silver sable drew his broadsword and pointed the blade at the badger’s throat. “Your days are numbered bloodwrather.” 
“Eulalia!” All eyes turned to the hare, who had picked himself up and was now running down the center of the quarry, his own broadsword in paw. 
He had to do something. Right now. Or his uncle would die. 
But it was already too late. The hare moved like lightning, and no power in this world could have stopped him. 
The bystander could do absolutely nothing but watch his uncle get skewered by the hare’s blade. And just like that, the great Armuk Rinn lay slain in a pool of his own blood, broadsword blade plunged into his back up to the handle. 
The battle of the Blademasters had been fought, with the hare claiming victory. 
He awoke with a jolt, sitting bolt upright and frantically looking about the room. To his relief, there were no killer hares or crazed badgers. Just a room that he shared with no one save for the darkness and the unforgiving ghosts of his past. A dull ache in the side of his head informed him that he had scratched his face in his sleep again, and a quick look at his blood stained paws was all he needed as proof.  
Deciding there was no point in laying around, the creature got up. He lit a lantern and cleaned the blood from his paws and face in a wash basin. 
Stretching, he walked over to his desk and bent over the map of Mossflower that was spread out neatly across it. 
“Perhaps I should go check on the patrols, make sure no beast is slacking off at their post.” These were the words he spoke out loud to himself. Not really because he needed to but because he had to. If nothing was said, the thoughts eating away at the back of his mind would be free to enter the world. That was never a good thing. 
Just then, the creature jumped as there was a sharp knock at his door. “Lord Zwilt? Permission ta enter?” 
Zwilt relaxed a little and rubbed a paw across his forehead, “Permission granted Sargent Kylo.”
The beast in question opened the door that led to his leader’s chambers. Kylo was a rather short fox with a thin frame, though he looked strong for his stature. His orange fur and amber eyes contrasted with the plain dark blue tunic he and the other Ravager soldiers wore. 
The young fox entered the room energetically and dipped his head respectfully to Zwilt, waiting for his lord to address him. 
Zwilt however waved a dismissive paw impatiently.  “Never mind formalities Sargent. You've obviously come here to tell me something of importance, so make your report.”
Kylo cleared his throat and brushed his red hair out of his eyes before speaking. “Uh, right. Her Majesty requests yer presence as soon as possible Milord.” 
Zwilt scowled inwardly. What frivolous plans did Vilaya need his help with now? 
But Zwilt kept his expression stoic and simply stated, “Very well. You may return to your post now Sargent.”
Kylo stood in the doorway, a roguish grin plastered on his face. “About that Milord, see me ‘an Fallug made a bet and the loser had ta take the winner’s shift fer a week. An’ I won!”
Zwilt groaned. “I don’t care who does the job. Just get it done. Now are you giving Fallug your pay because he’s doing your job for a week?”
The fox chuckled, yelling over his shoulder as he left, “Nah I scammed him outta that too!” 
When Kylo was gone, Zwilt adorned his dark purple cloak and clipped on his belt. He grabbed his broadsword from the desk it lay on and inspected the weapon carefully. He ran a paw across the hilt, on it was engraved the name Armuk Rinn. If he looked really closely, Zwilt could have sworn  there was still a hue of red on the blade from the badger’s blood. 
The sable Commander shuddered and buckled his sword onto his belt and turned to go. Before he did however, he took one last glance at his cot in the corner  
of the room. 
Everyone said that I would one day die on the battlefield. That is… if the nightmares don’t get me first.   
== Chapter 2: Plans Written In Poison Ink ==
Zwilt ambled down the dismal tunnels of Althier, in no particular hurry to reach Vilaya’s throne room. As he walked, Zwilt scowled at the moss-covered stone walls and places where the wood floor was splintering. 
He’d told Vilaya countless times that the place needed to be remodeled and cleaned. But did she listen? Of course not. 
With a growl Zwilt forced himself to train his keen black eyes away from the crumbling scenery around him, not wanting to look at it anymore. Instead, he fixed his harsh gaze on the soldiers who passed him in the hall. 
How he relished their nervous glances and yelps of fear whenever he looked at them. He’d always had an uncanny ability to strike fear into the hearts of creatures in his presence. And he loved it. 
With his mood improving, Zwilt continued his journey until he was in front of the massive wooden double doors that lead into the throne room. He entered confidently, his long cloak trailing behind him as he crossed the long stretch of floor that lay between the doors and Vilaya’s throne. 
At least this room was cleaner than the rest. 
All the while, nearby guards stepped back and flattened themselves against the walls. Even they could tell that their Commander was in a treacherous mood, and thought it wise to stay out of his path. 
There, standing in front of the throne, Zwilt couldn’t help but feel the slightest bit intimidated. He knew he had the upper paw on Vilaya when it came to true fighting, but the Queen was not as bold as he was. She would sooner poison someone’s wine, or stab them in the back, before she’d face them in a clean fight. 
Besides that, the throne she sat upon was just as imperious as the Queen herself. The cushions were made of fine dark red silks, and the throne’s frame and steps were solid gold. The elegant piece of furniture gave Vilaya an air of majesty stronger than the one she usually held when outside of her throne room. 
The whole sight might have been striking, if not for the old rat glaring at Zwilt from where she sat on the throne steps. 
Dirva she was called, and Zwilt had all he could do not to bare his teeth at her in a malicious growl. But he was above that, and above her. 
The rat smirked at him, breaking the tense silence. “Well don’t just stand there Milord, address your Queen.”
With a sigh, Zwilt bit his lip slightly and dropped into an elegant bow. “What may I assist you with, Majesty?”
Vilaya nodded approvingly, sitting up straight and shooing her guards out of the room. When she finally spoke, her voice was grave. “We have problems, Zwilt.” 
The Commander felt a wave of dread wash over him. 
Great, just what I needed. 
However, he kept his composure, and met Vilaya’s eyes calmly. “What has happened?”
Dirva broke in then, flashing one of her snaggletoothed grins. “What hasn’t happened?”
Vilaya cuffed the rat over the ears with an unamused sigh. “Honestly?”
The old counselor looked up at her leader shrugging. “He asked Milady.”
It was then that Vilaya stood, descending the throne steps and ignoring any further comments from Dirva. The queen walked around Zwilt in a slow circle, her low cut purple gown flowing behind her as she did so. 
“Captain Grakk made a rather informative report to me a few hours ago. He said that a group of otters and shrews launched an attack on our camp in the cover of nightfall when the soldiers were asleep. By the time the guards noticed the woodlanders, it was too late.” 
As if reading the question written in Zwilt’s eyes, Dirva picked up the conversation. 
“Over one forth of our force was slaughtered, as they attacked our biggest camp.”
Zwilt looked... rather shocked, honestly, turning to Vilaya with a furrowed brow. 
She met his eyes, a patronizing smile on her face. “What amazes me is that I had to be the one to tell you, O Great Commander. If you cannot be bothered to look after your own army, then what exactly are you good for?” 
The scrutinizing stares of Vilaya and Dirva fell upon him like an ice storm, seeming to cut into his very soul with its ferocity. 
“Majesty. If this attack took place only hours ago, I would have no way of knowing beforehand. I wasn’t at the camps, and besides...”
Vilaya cut him off before he could say more, finishing his thought for him. “You were asleep.”
She stopped pacing, turning around slowly to face him. Vilaya was staring intently at his face, and Zwilt did his best to ignore the burning scratches still present on the side of his head. 
To his relief, however, Vilaya did not press the issue. She merely gave an amused smirk and continued her tirade. 
“You were not so incompetent as to make it obvious that our army is rising again, were you?” She fixed him with a hard look. 
Zwilt did his best to keep his expression devoid of emotion, though he could not help his fist clenching tightly at his side. 
“No, Milady. I took care to make sure that my soldiers were spread out among different camps around the woods. That would’ve eliminated any suspicion of alliance between them. Also, I specifically gave them orders to keep their heads low and not attack to protect their cover.”
He rubbed his temples. “Surely my Captains enforced my commands. They knew full well that we weren't strong enough to move in on any woodland settlements yet.”
Dirva chimed in again, this time with a loud cackle. “Then why, Milord, are we in this situation? Because if we weren’t strong enough then, we’re even weaker now.”
Zwilt ignored the old rat and turned to face Vilaya. “They have no way of knowing about our uprising.”
The Queen crossed her arms and tapped the sleeves of her cloak thoughtfully with her claws. “if that is so, why would they attack us?”
“It is the age old story, Majesty. Our camp must’ve been too close to Redwall and the beasts who lived there perceived our soldiers as a threat. Just another vermin band come to make a nuisance of themselves.” The Commander laid a paw on his sword hilt, a thin smile spreading across his face. “How wrong they are.”
Vilaya gave him a look that one would usually reserve for a petulant child. “Zwilt. You have no merit to your words. Frankly, we are at a disadvantage seeing as a crew of woodlanders were able to get the better of a whole camp of us.”
Zwilt glanced about the room, the smallest flicker of irritation shining in his otherwise dead eyes. “Then I will have to do some recruiting to make up for those we’ve lost. But after that Majesty, we need to expand our territory.” 
The Commander paced up and down the fairly disheveled corridor. “This fortress served well as a hide out after...” 
He paused momentarily, giving his next words much thought. “Ahem. After our previous setbacks and while we were rebuilding our forces. But that time has passed, and now we must rise to power once more.”
Zwilt heaved a sigh, the waning torch light making him look even more ominous. “Besides, this place is too small for all of our soldiers to shelter here. And with Winter approaching...”
He looked up at Vilaya, and they both shuddered slightly at the memory of last year’s winter. The storms were bad, and many of the troops who lived in the camps died from sickness. 
“I can get us the numbers we need, but we must stop wasting time. We can’t afford that if you ever want to get back to the top.” 
The Queen simply nodded. “Right. Negotiations with the woodlanders have proved useless, and they were the ones who put us down here in the first place.”
She made her way back onto her throne, looking down at Zwilt imperiously. “Now, get out of my sight and do what’s asked of you. I’ll do the hard part and actually think of a plan.”
As Zwilt spun on his heel to make his exit, he saw something that made him smirk. Underneath the snideness and purple silks, Zwilt could have sworn he saw a twinge of fear flash in Vilaya’s eyes. A look that would have been missed by most creatures, but easily recognizable between cousins.
><>< 
“Wot can ya hear?” Kylo stood on tip paw, his ear pressed against the throne room door. His companion, a small rat with dark brown fur, paced excitedly. 
“Wot do ya hear, huh?” She chirped again. 
Kylo became impatient, turning his head to snap at her. “Emery, would ya just pipe down ‘afore Capt’n Grakk comes after our hides?”
The fox tore his ear from the door and dropped his voice to a whisper as he looked around. “Hey, ain’t ya supposed ta be on guard duty instead a right here compromisin’ our cover?”
The young rat grinned sheepishly at him. “Wull yeah. But it’s boring.” 
Kylo opened his mouth… most likely to scold her for leaving her post, when he heard footsteps from behind the door heading in their direction. 
“Go.” He said this through clenched teeth, grabbing Emery’s arm and barreling as silently as they could down the dark hall. 
Kylo chanced a look back over his shoulder to ensure they hadn’t been seen. “Alright. I think we’re good.”
No sooner had the words left his mouth, when Emery tripped over her own boots and sent the two sprawling into a storage rack containing armor. 
Kylo sat up amidst the wreckage, sputtering. He put his paws over his head to protect himself from the heavy metal armor pieces that fell down around him with a loud clatter. 
He turned to Emery with a sigh. “Way ta go.”
Both creatures suddenly scrambled back against the wall, the sight before them a pair of polished black boots and the stern face of a weasel glaring down at them. 
Kylo waved a paw in greeting and chuckled nervously. “Hey Capt’n Grakk. Fancy seein’ ya ‘ere.”
== Chapter 3: Misconceptions ==