User blog:Rhulasunwave101/Tonngrian - The Courage of a Sunwave

*NOTE: THIS IS THE SAME STORY AS 'RHULA THE SWORD BEARER'. I JUST CHANGED THE NAME SO IT'S ON A NEW DOCUMENT. PLEASE READ THIS ONE BECAUSE THIS IS THE STORY I WILL BE UPDATING!*
'''TONN GRIAN MEANS SUN WAVE IN IRISH. [:'''

Prologue
My old dad is always saying that each winter is worse than the last. I think it may just be the strength easing away from his old bones, making him colder more easily. Of course, I wouldn't say that to his face, if'n I didn't want to get slapped into next season. Sometimes I wish I could've seen him in his fightin' days. Oh, what a sight that wouldn've been! Hah! But for now we rest and wait for Brother Ruber and his trainee cooks to prepare our annual winter feast. Many of us have already done our duties around the Abbey, such as puttting up banners, cleaning tables and furniture, sprucing up the decorations, and what not. Abbess Bree took it upon herself to head out with yours truly and catch our grayling. And by the fur, that beast was a fighter! We pulled it around, or it pulled us around, for who knows how long until we finally got it under control. What a feast it will be with that fish as our main dish! Ruber was ecstatic when we brought the grayling in. He loves something big to cook, as always. For now however, as it gets dark, we all wait for the signal that supper is ready! Then it'll really begin. There will be games and races and eating and drinking and merriment all around. How I love Redwall's feasts. Considering I am Recorder of the Abbey, I have been compiling and searching for tales to add the the already growing story of our newest Abbeybeast, Rhula Sunwave. The otter came to us a while ago, around when my parents married. Well, I suppose considering I am already nearly finished, would you like to come read what I have composed about Rhula? It's a great tale if I do say so myself. Mother Abbess Bree read it first and said it was marvelous. It's a bit long, but believe me, it's very captivating and romantic and adventurous and...wait. I think I should end here before I babble on too much, and run out of ink.

Skye Smoothstream,

Recorder of Redwall Abbey

Chapter One
Terrified screams rent the air as the ship pulled alongside the otter holt’s vessel. Any beast with eyes could see they were corsairs. The vermin lined the decks, covered from head to tail in weapons, with eager, bloodthirsty smiles on their torn, ugly faces. A pretty, young ottermaid gritted her teeth and ran to the tiller where her father, Novva Sunwave stood barking out orders to the otter crew, his face taut with anger. Novva was something to behold. He was larger than most sea otters, with half an ear missing and dangerous dark eyes. Yet, he could be the gentlest creature in the world, but this was not one of those times. He beckoned the maid over and pushed one of his long, sharpened swords he kept strapped to either side of his belt into her trembling hands.

“'Ere Rhula, take this.” He ordered with a pleading look in his dark eyes. “Find your mother an’ take ‘er an’ the others into the longboat. Get them out o’ here!”

Rhula looked down at the shining weapon and looked back up at him, squinting when the sun hurt her eyes. “But Dad, what ‘bout you? An’ the crew?” She couldn’t bear to leave him behind with a full ship of pirates. His eyes softened for a moment as he stroked his daughter’s head.

“My Rhula. You’ll do your ol’ dad proud, ye will. Now go! Go!!!” He pushed her backwards and grabbed the tiller, continuing to bellow out to the crew encouragement into battle. The realization of what was happening hit the maid. She turned to run and gasped when a knife flew a hairsbreadth from her head.

The corsairs had boarded.

Racing toward the cabin where her mother and the others of her family were hiding, Rhula bowled over a rat and hit another with the flat of the blade in her wild dash to the other side of the ship. Years of experience on the open sea gave Rhula easy passage through the sea of vermin as she fought her way to the cabin. A skinny stoat came running up to her, yelling wildly. He swung the rapier he was carrying down to the ottermaid, but she ducked and sidestepped, and he fell into the path of a weasel, who was coming at her from behind. Both fell, speared by each other’s weapons. Rhula continued on, dodging and defending whenever she needed a small gash now on her forehead. Finally, she thrust open the door and nearly fell into the arms of her mother, Ferrgale Sunwave. Rhula breathlessly explained the situation to her mother and she and the others of their holt made their way behind Rhula back out into the chaos. Outside, Novva and the other fighting otters had driven a good portion of the corsairs back toward their ship. Rhula brightened up somewhat. They were winning! Then she saw him.

He stood on the railing of his own ship, watching the fight through one wild, black eye, even darker than her father’s. He was a fox, and every inch a corsair. From the patch over his right eye and the ragged clothing, to the curved cutlass that hung at his side and the muscles that rippled under his sleeves. This was not a beast to mess with. Still, Rhula couldn’t help but hate him. She pulled her gaze away from the fox to lead the more helpless otters and her mother to the longboat that hung at the side of the ship. Rhula herded them along; keeping up the back so none would get hurt if some vermin happened to escape the crew’s grasp.

Rhula watched the first two climb down the side and into the boat when she heard a rough shout behind her. The maid turned and gasped. There was the fox pirate, sword out and pointing straight at her. Rhula backed up, urging the others on in a low voice. Her mother heard her and helped hasten the escape. A few of the otter crew turned to look at Rhula, like her father. His eyes were worried. The ottermaid had never seen him look scared of anything. Now however, he was truly afraid. A few of the corsairs, seizing the chance, attacked the crew and made their own escape.

She heard a scream and realized it was her own as she watched her father and the other otters go down in a flurry of claws and swords, fighting for their lives. The fox jumped down from the railing and onto the otters' ship, his eyes boring into Rhula, like they could reach her very soul. Knowing the element of secrecy was long passed, the ottermaid whirled and starting barking out orders, much like Novva, urging her family into the longboat. Rhula hastily pushed her mother in and was about to cut the boat loose when a small squeal broke through the commotion. Then, much like it had a moment before, everything stopped. Rhula didn’t need to turn around to see who had made the noise, but she did anyways, dreading what she would see.

Sure enough, the sight that awaited her made her feel faint, and she grasped the railing for balance. Rhula heard Ferrgale scream behind her, and the others in the boat also shared their surprise. There, in the clawed grasp of the fox pirate, was her little baby cousin Durbarr. He was dangling by the collar of his homespun tunic, giggling and swinging back in forth in the air, oblivious to the point of the cutlass just inches from his throat.

The fox saw the otters’ expressions, and grinned darkly. “Ah,” he hissed in a smooth voice, “I see you know this little one, hmm?”

“Let him go you scum of darkfire!” Rhula heard her father’s cry from behind the fox. However, Novva took one step forward, and the corsair brought the sword closer to Durbarr’s neck. The fox laughed and spoke again, his eyes never leaving Rhula.

“Now, now, what’s with that language in front of the children? We wouldn’t want anything to happen to them, now would we?” He held the tiny otter tighter and closer to him. Rhula growled under her breath, gripping the handle of the long sword tighter until her knuckles ached. She decided to speak, since it seemed no one else would.

“Who are you? Why are you attacking our ship?” Rhula tried to make her voice sound brave and fearless, but seeing her little cousin in his situation made it quiver. She held the sword up to her chest and straightened up, hoping to make herself look more powerful. The fox eyed Ferrgale and the others in the boat behind Rhula, then glanced over to where her father and the crew were standing, some with their hands still wrapped around the vermin. He sighed deeply as if very bored, then looked back at the ottermaid, his voice strong.

“I am Oltar Fireblade. Your ship is mine now, seadog. Either you and you little family here surrender the vessel to me, or Squeaky here will have squeaked his last!” He held up Durbarr higher, the cutlass tickling his throat.

Rhula heard Durbarr's mother sobbing softly in the boat. They were in a dangerous situation. There was no way her father or she would give away their ship to the vermin, but Durbarr’s life was on the line, and a very thin one too. Rhula’s mind raced to think of an idea, when suddenly she noticed something. In the tense situation, no one, not even she had noticed Briggol Shoreflight, her father’s second in command, sneaking up behind the fox with his sharp dirk, as silent as the breeze that floated by on the cool air. Rhula tried not to make herself too aware, as to give away his position, when all of a sudden, Briggol jumped. He landed on Oltar Fireblade’s back and tried to find the dirk purchase in the fox’s fur. When he did, the corsair captain howled in pain.

Dropping Durbarr, he whirled on Briggol, and the fight started again. Novva and the crew began attacking again with greater ferocity, as did the rats, stoats, and other vermin under Oltar’s command. However, Rhula’s eyes were fixed on Briggol as he struggled to grab the dirk that had fallen when he’d been shaken off. She watched in horror as the fox slashed at the otter with his cutlass. But Briggol was small and sleek and avoided all of the fox’s maneuvers with ease.

Suddenly, the ship shuddered and groaned, throwing everybeast flat on their backs. They all stood up quickly and Rhula looked around frantically. Had they run aground? Were there sharks in the waters? Then she saw Oltar grinning and she felt her blood run cold. Briggol was lying on the ground, and the maid turned her head so as not to see where the fox’s cutlass was. The poor otter had been run through when the sword flew out of Oltar’s hands as the ship rocked. Then, Rhula felt something, a burning ferocity rising within her. A rapid burst of revulsion was centered at the fox captain. She picked her father's sword and growled fiercely, but before anything could happen, the ship shuddered again.

Ferrgale confirmed her daughter’s worst fears when she cried that there were holes in the ship’s side. Holes from sharp rocks under the water. No! They had been too distracted by the corsairs that nobeats noticed the ship had drifted toward the dreaded Dead Rocks - a large group of rocks both under and above the water - and into the current.

They were sinking, and not only that, but they were being pulled by the current toward the huge rocks above the water, and fast. However, Novva and the crew seemed to take no hold of the situation. Instead they threw themselves into the bunches of corsairs and the battle resumed, this time, Oltar resuming his place on the railing, encouraging his vermin to fight. Rhula immediately started untying the longboat from the ship and placed Durbarr next to his mother, but the waves were roughening. They splashed over the sides of the lurching, doomed vessel, and Rhula was almost thrown under by a monster swell that threatened to flip the entire longboat.

The ottermaid looked around wildly and decided to use the sword to chop the rope. It came apart with a loud snap and the longboat was flung at her by another wave. It hit with tremendous force, and Rhula immediately came up for breath. Then, she saw the rocks more clearly. They were gigantic things, sticking up out of the sea like jagged teeth. She saw her father hacking away at oncoming vermin as the deck filled with water, ignoring his own deep wounds. Within seconds the ship would be ripped apart by the rocks. Rhula threw herself at the longboat, pushing it as best she could out to sea. She heard her mother’s cries to her daughter to get on the boat, but Rhula ignored her. Then, the longboat was pulled away from her grasp by the current, in the same direction as the ship…to the rocks.

Rhula grabbed at the rigging on the snapping mast of the vessel and tried to steady herself as best she could. For a moment, she looked at Novva and they locked eyes, his pleading into hers, telling his beloved daughter to get away if she still could. Then, a massive, resounding moan ran through the ship, followed by an earsplitting crash, and Rhula was thrown off the rigging and into the rough waves. Seawater filled her ears, her nose, and she struggled to get to the surface. Rhula gasped for breath when she broke through and quickly shoved her dad’s sword through her belt. Then another swell pulled her under.

Rhula felt the shooting pain as she was thrashed against something, and everything began to go dark. The light from above the water grew dimmer, and she fought with the last strength she had to reach the top, but her limbs felt limp, useless. She heard the sound of rushing water, like waves pounding on the shore, and then, nothing.



'''One week later... '''

The sky was a black and starless, and the waves broke on the shore with a vengeance. A lone ottermaid stood on the sea cliff, her deep green tunic blowing in the sharp wind, her eyes shining. Her gaze was fixed on a huge fox on the sand below her. He was laughing maniacally and waving his sword at the maid. The sword glowed a bloody red, the same color as he. Suddenly, a longboat appeared on the waves, its occupants unseen but shouting to the ottermaid, begging her to join them. She leapt to the shore and tried to follow, but was blocked by the evil fox, his voice beckoning her to battle him. Then, a crash reverberated from out on the sea, and the longboat was lost from view. The ottermaid fell to the ground, unconscious, and the fox disappeared completely, only his glowing blade left on the dark sand, and a voice was heard on the wind, whispering softly, “Sunwave…Sunwave…”

Skipper of Otters sat up so quickly in his bead that his head spun. He tried to catch his breath and slow his fleeting heart. What a strange dream he’d had. Skipper tried to gather his thoughts and stood up slowly, looking toward the window in his room where the first faint rays of dawn were peeking over the trees of Mossflower Woods. He wasn’t normally up this early, but there was no chance of falling asleep again, and he certainly didn’t want to look upon that wicked fox. However, the ottermaid’s face was locked in his mind. Dream or no dream, something in him longed to know who she was. He stepped out of his room, wrapping the warm brown tunic around him, and made his way down the stairs to Great Hall. Perhaps Martin could help.

The great tapestry of Martin the Warrior hung silent and watchful in the empty Hall, almost as if it were waiting for someone to come to it. Skipper sighed and looked up at the woven picture of Redwall’s great warrior. The mouse had a carefree smile upon his face, but his eyes shone with wisdom and kindness. “So Martin,” Skipper whispered halfheartedly, “any advice?”

He stared at the face of the ancient mouse, but nothing happened. Skipper shook his head and sat down on the cold stone floor, but suddenly, a single ray from the rising sun pierced through a window in the hall and illuminated the sword, which Martin had by his side, in a bright golden shine. Skipper was taken aback. Surely, this was Martin saying something, but what?

The large otter stood and chuckled. “Oh Martin. You either say something in a riddle, or nothing at all.”

“But if he just gave you a straight answer, there would be no adventure now would there?” The voice behind Skipper startled him into whirling and tripping over his own tunic. It was Badgermum Misera ambling into Great Hall, a soft smile on her hard, battle scared features. Misera had fought many a war while serving as Badger Lady in the great mountain fortress of Salamandastron, but now she had retired to the Abbey to protect and guide for the Abbeybeasts.

Skipper grinned sheepishly. “Now milady. Don’t you know it’s bad to scare a beast right out of his half awake hide?” She strode up to him, and he felt dwarfed by Misera’s immense presence. She laughed and patted the otter’s back.

“I am sorry Skip, but I couldn’t help but overhear you whispering to our friend Martin there.” She gestured to the now lit up tapestry.

Skipper shook his head. “It was a dream Misera. I couldn’t see the purpose of it, so I’d thought it’d be best to ask the Warrior for a little recommendation.”

The badger shook her grizzled head too. “Dreams are not for me. You would need to ask Abbot Ivan about that. He’s the master of dreams.” She chuckled and led Skipper to the kitchens. “I can smell Friar Rikk’s cooking already. You know, that trainee he’s got, little Ruber? I can tell that young rip will become an excellent cook when the time comes.”

Skipper immediately reverted to a good mood. “Hah! If his hotroot soup is as half as good as Friar Rikk’s, then I’ll have to give him a gold medal myself!”

The two friends laughed and joked and exited Great Hall to follow their noses into the kitchens of Redwall Abbey. All the while, the tapestry of Martin the Warrior watched them, the great mouse's eyes softening as they left, and the smile on his face seemed to grow slightly. All was nice and quiet as morning snuck its way in, but all things would soon change, beginning with a visitor.



The hot sun was now beginning to set over Redwall Abbey, its rays lighting up the red stone walls to a brilliant bright scarlet. Abbeybeasts dozed by the pond under the great oaks, while some bustled around, getting the feast ready. Abbot Ivan had proposed the night before that there would be a feast that night, to celebrate they times of happiness and peace that the Abbey had sustained for so long. There was going to be food galore, and although the usual grayling wouldn't be present this time, Friar Rikk had prepared a delicious, and enormous, pumpkin pie that made beasts drool at the thought of it. The decorations in Great Hall were marvelous and set up nicely, and the tables had been straightened and cleaned. The stone floors shone with a beauty, and the windows cast a soft light into the Hall, making it the perfect setting for a banquet of any kind.

Father Abbot Ivan sat with his back against an oak, watching two bright green dragonflies twirl and dance across the surface of the otherwise still Abbey pond. His companion was the short, chubby little gatehouse keeper, Sister Ella. The sister had lived nearly as long as the Abbot himself, maybe longer, and in her old age loved nothing more than dozing on the green grasses of the abbey courtyard and sneaking out scones from the kitchens when Friar Rikk isn't looking. The two had been friends since they were Dibbuns, and knew everything about one another. Ivan watched his sleeping cohort, he knew perfectly well not to disturb her. Instead, he propped Ella up against the oak as she snored lightly, and tiptoed lightly toward the stairs up to the battlements. He loved walking along the top around the Abbey, gazing over Mossflower Woods and down at the Abbeybeasts peacefully going about their duties. In fact, he was so endorsed in his own happiness that he didn't notice the large male otter standing in front of him until they collided, both tumbling to the ground.

Abbot Ivan shook his head violently, almost knocking off his glasses, trying to regain his senses. he was pulled onto his feet by Skipper of Otters. Skipper brushed the Abbot of dust, apologizing over and over. Ivan smiled and patted Skipper on his broad shoulder.

"Hah, do not worry my young friend. Wasn't your fault. How can your Abbot see over the Abbey's duties if he cannot see in front of him, eh?" The two friends laughed and began walking. Although he was smiling, Ivan noticed a troubled look in Skipper's eyes. He placed his hand on the otter's shoulder and asked with concern, "What is troubling you, Skip? I have noticed it all day. Something in your eyes."

Skipper sighed. "In all honesty Father Abbot, I don't know. I had a dream last night with a fox and an ottermaid on the shore of the ocean and voices calling from a longboat. I know it sounds like muddle, but I can't get the maid's face out of my head. If she's real, I want to know who she is, and that fox too. Lady Misera told me to ask you about it, since I asked Martin, but all I got was a sun ray on his sword." Skipper sat down on the rampart. "I'm confused Father. It's been bothering me all day long."

The Abbot sat down beside his friend, eyes full of sympathy. He looked Skipper in the eyes and called the otter by his real name. "Tavish, my boy, you are young and inexperienced when it comes to understanding visions and dreams. However, you are smart enough to try to. I cannot decipher this for you, but trust me, I am more than willing to help. If Martin has sent you a sign in some form or another, it must be gravely important."

Tavish, preferably called Tav, grinned at the Abbot and stood up, helping the wise old mouse up with him. "Thank you Father. Perhaps I can get Badgermum Misera to help too. She is, after all, just as old and wise as you are."

Ivan gasped in mock astonishment as the two made their way across the rampart. "Old? Now who are you calling old you great rudderwhalloper?"

Tav gave the Abbot a playful shove. "I'm calling you old, you chubby excuse for an Abbot."

"Now you've gone to far, me boy. Move along before I push you over the wall!" Skipper laughed as Ivan pushed him forward, and ran off, not hearing the Abbot mumble, "Excuse for an Abbot my whiskers!" However, now that he was alone, he was left to ponder with what Tav had said. The ottemaid had seemed of great importance to him. Perhaps she was real. Perhaps Martin was sending him a sign. What did any of this mean? Abbot Ivan shook his weary head and cleared his mind, focusing solely with anticipation for the events later on in the evening.

Chapter Two
"Heehee! I be faster'n Mumma Mis'ra!" The little squirrelbabe Tim shrieked as he scampered across the stone floors of Great Hall. Badgermum Misera, for all her power, could not weave through the Abbeybeasts to catch the little one. She slowly walked to her seat beside the larger chair where Father Abbot Ivan sat, a sympathetic look on his old features as the badger approached and sat down. She laughed and smiled at the Abbot.

"I tell you Ivan, it is getting harder and harder every time to play games with these little rascals." Ivan laughed and looked to where the babe was approaching. He eyed Tim with mock seriousness.

"Now, young Timothy, just look what you've done to your poor Badgermum. She's tired and famished from that great chase you have her."

Tim immediately looked sorry for his actions. He shuffled his tiny paws on the floor and looked up at Misera with solemn eyes. "I be very surry Mumma Mis'ra. Me won't do it again!" He then turned and walked off slowly to join some of his fellow Dibbuns at the end of the largest table.

Misera smiled and glanced at the Abbot. "Father, I do think you shouldn't have been so hard on him. I do not think the little chap knew you were kidding around with him."

Ivan looked truly sorry and sighed. "I suppose you're right. Maybe we can cheer him up with some food, eh?"

As if on cue, the bells out in the belltower rang with a high song throughout the Abbey, sounding the beginning of the feast. Everywhere, Abbeybeasts sat with forks upraised and grins plastered on their hungry, eager faces. The first whiffs of food hit them, and then out from the kitchen hall came the plump little Friar Rikk, beaming with pride as his assistants wheeled out the dishes. And so the Feast of Peace began. Grace was said, and the residents of Redwall dug in to the precious entrees that sat before them. They passed around food and chatted amiably with one another.

"Why Foremole, would you like some damselberry pie along with your ale?"

"Boi okey moi stomach be oiken for durmselburry pie."

"My compliments to the Friar on this exquisite dark tea!"

"Father Abbot, I'm believin' you'd like some o' this salad?"

"Salad! Thank you Sister Ella."

Pass down this bowl of hotroot soup to Brecken please."

Brecken, the ottermaid second in command to Skipper of Otters, accepted the bowl of soup almost greedily. Then, she looked around at the otter crew seated around her, a puzzled look on her face. "Where's Skip?" She asked in a high voice?

At that moment, almost everyone became silent, and Great Hall was like a tomb until the Abbot spoke. "He may just be a little late, possibly getting some fresh night air. Our Skipper has had a bit of a trying day."

Most beasts went back to their meals and conversations, believing what their Abbot spoke, but Misera and the crew looked at him with slight worry on their faces. Ivan spoke in a low voice to the badger, "Brecken and I will go find Tav. Can you stay here and keep order for me my friend?"

Misera smiled. "Of course Father. I would not leave my tart unattended anyway."

The Abbot laughed and silently go down from his chair, motioned for the ottermaid to follow him, and quietly exited Great Hall through it's wooden front doors. Once they were outside, they immediately began searching. The Abbot shook his head and spoke in worry to Brecken.

"I am worried Brecken. Skipper is never like this. Now, over the course of a matter of hours, his whole persona has changed and he hides from us at the time of feasting and merriment. I do not understand it, save that it must of been that dream of his."

Brecken nodded. "He hasn't spoken to the crew all day, so I took over. I agree Father Abbot. I'm worried for him too." The otter's eyes flashed as she walked toward the gatehouse, the Abbot behind her. "It's the maid in his dream, that's what it is. Why, if I get ahold of the creature that's causing Skip to feel so distressed, I'll -"

Ivan put a strong hand on Brecken's shoulder. "Now now, missie. We've promised to help him, not bring revenge of some dream beast into the matter. Calm yourself."

Brecken smiled weakly and nodded. "Yes Father Abbot. I'm sorry."

Before she could speak any further though, noises were heard by the Abbey gates. The two headed to investigate. At the huge front gates, speaking in hushed tones, were three figures shrouded in the darkness. Brecken drew out a short knife slowly from her belt, sure they were intruders, and motioned for the Abbot to stay behind her. She poised to pounce at the figures, till one of them turned into the moonlight, and Brecken was surprised to see herself staring into the eyes of Tav. Her jaw dropped along with the knife, and Abbot Ivan laughed and gently pushed the maid aside.

"Well, Brecken, it appears we have been mistaken! Now, Skipper, what was with scaring us like that? Half of the Abbey had the mind to think you had run off!"

Tav immediately stopped grinning. "I'm sorry Father. It's just, Brother Verne here wanted me to come see a new visitor, and apparently he knows Badgermum Misera."

The big otter stepped aside to reveal an old, cloaked, male squirrel standing next to Brother Verne, the Abbey's hedgehog gatehouse keeper. Verne smiled and put a spiky arm around the frail creature.

"Father Abbot, Brecken, I would like you to meet a friend of our own Badgermum's, and a traveling fiddler, Rinje Quickbreeze. he has come here to bring us news from Salamandastron."

Brecken's eyes widened at the sound of the great seaside fortress. "Salamandastron! Somebeast must go get Misera!" When no one moved, Brother Verne sighed and ambled off toward Great Hall, mumbling to himself.

"Well, I supose if everyone is too lazy to move their stumps, I'll do it myself! Too much tart I'd say..."

The others left behind laughed at the gatehouse keeper's mutterings, before turning to their guest.

The Abbot looked Rinje Quickbreeze up and down, his soft eyes calculating the squirrel's appearance. He was not one to judge quickly, but Misera had said that after so much peace at Redwall, someone or something could come along and mess everything up.

"Welcome to Redwall Abbey, friend. May I say that it is such a feat for you to come all this way from Salamandastron to bring us news. Why did Lord Southstar not send on of his Long Patrol hares here instead?"

The old squirrel grinned, showing a mouth of surprisingly sharp, white teeth in the moonlight. "I have one thing that those hares would never even come close to...stealth. Southstar always sends me on important, prompt-tu missions because he knows I am the only one who could get to Redwall without causing some sort of commotion. I am sorry Father Abbot, but I must wait to find Misera, then I may tell both of you of our predicament."

"Predicament?" Brecken injected, curiosity dripping from her voice.

Tav, Skipper of Otters, looked very interested as well, but Ivan stepped in. "We must wait until Brother Verne returns with our Badgermum before our friend here can tell us the news. Please be patient."

Brecken crossed her arms and sighed. She ventured a glance at Tav, who was looking around the shadowy Abbey grounds, listening and watching. She couldn't help but notice the brawny strength of the otter, the way his dark eyes brimmed with confidence and spirit, the huskiness of his voice when he spoke...Brecken shook her head. She mustn't be thinking like that. Skipper was her friend and leader. She didn't deserve someone like him, but just maybe...

Before long, the awkward silence was broken and the gatehouse keeper ambled out of the Abbey with Badgermum Misera beside him. When Misera approached, her eyes widened at the sight of the old squirrel, and she rushed to him, Rinje's frail hand embraced in the badger's enormous paws.

"By the fur! Rinje Quickbreeze, you old treewhiffler! I haven't seen he likes of you in half my years! What brings you to Redwall this time of year?" Misera shook the paw of her old friend so hard, the squirrel looked shaken when he spoke.

"Heehee. Well, it's nice to see you to, me beauty." Rinje rubbed his now sore paw. "But I am afraid I am not all too happy to see any of you, not with the news I carry."

Everyone present looked at the fiddler with grim faces as he spoke again. "There are vermin, searats, that have landed north of Salamandastron who have heard of your Abbey. They want it, and they are destroying anything and anybeast in their paths to get here."

Misera's eyes immediately turned hard as stone, Brecken patted Abbot Ivan's paw in reassurance, who had his paw on Brother Verne's shoulder, and Tav stood alone, his face a picture of anger and defiance.

"Thank you for the information my friend, but I would suggest us talking over this in other quarters." She turned to the hedgehog. "Perhaps in the gatehouse where we can fetch some food and water for our friend here, Brother Verne?"

The keeper smiled and nodded. "Right away marm. I suppose the old Friar wouldn't mind giving up some vittles for a weary traveler." And once again, the loyal little gatehouse keeper moseyed off to the kitchens.

Misera smiled as she watched him go. "What a good Redwaller our Verne is, eh Father?"

Ivan smiled too. "Yes, Misera. Now, let us go to the gatehouse. This one looks bound to faint any moment." He motioned to Rinje Quickbreeze, who was indeed very tired, and the five friends headed off to the gatehouse in the dark, eager to hear more information on this suddenly ominous threat to their beloved Abbey.



Far beyond the safe confines of Redwall Abbey, on the shores north of the great mountain fortress Salamandastron, a young ottermaid about Tav's age was waking up. Her body was bruised and battered from the waves. She stood up slowly, groaning when her limbs protested. The shore was dark and the stars were her only light. The maid looked around, confused. Where was she? What had happened to her. The ottermaid collapsed back onto the sand, her eyes fluttering from exhaustion. Suddenly, she heard screams, shouts, and clanging swords in her head, and the images of a ship crashing into rocks sprang vividly in front of her sight. The maid screamed as the haunting sounds and pictures took over her mind.

Just as quickly as they came, the chaos faded from the ottermaid's mind, and she curled up on the sand, crying as the images took their effect. And there she lay for the remainder of the night, helpless and exhausted, waiting for sleep to come. Little did she know she was being watched, by a pair of soft eyes, watching and waiting to help.

Chapter Three
The sky was a black and starless, and the waves broke on the shore with a vengeance. A lone otter stood on the sea cliff, his warm brown tunic blowing in the sharp wind, his eyes shining. The otter's gaze was fixed on a huge fox on the sand below him. He was laughing maniacally and waving his sword at the otter. The sword glowed a bloody red, the same color as he. Suddenly, a longboat appeared on the waves, its occupants unseen but shouting to the otter, begging him to join them. He leapt to the shore and tried to follow, but was blocked by the evil fox, his voice beckoning the otter to battle him. Then, a crash reverberated from out on the sea, and the longboat was lost from view. The otter fell to the ground, unconscious, and the fox disappeared completely, only his glowing blade left on the dark sand, and a voice was heard on the wind, whispering softly, “Sunwave…Sunwave…” Then the voice changed to a higher, more mouse-like voice. It was strange, not soothing, dangerous maybe...

The ottermaid leapt out of the bed, pinning a stunned mousemaid to the ground, the otter's sword at her throat. Before she knew what was happening, the poor mouse was pleading, begging for her life.

"Oh! Please, d-don't hurt me miss! Y-you can have my tart, the cordial, a-anything! Just p-please don't h-hurt me!" The mousemaid, who turned out to be much older than the otter, was shaking uncontrollably under the ottermaid's fierce stare. Realizing what she was doing, the ottermaid stood up quickly and helped up the frightened mouse, who had spilt the strawberry cordial all over the floor of the small house the two were in. The ottermaid brushed off the little mousemaid, who was still recovering from her near-death experience.

At the sound of the mousemaid's scream, her husband, a just as small, chubby little thing, came rushing in, covered in dirt and smelling like flowers. He surveyed the situation and saw his wife, her eyes wide and cordial all over her smock, and next to her the ottermaid they had rescued, sword in paw, and an equally surprised expresion on her face.

"What happened?" He asked, completely clueless.

The ottermaid was about to apologize when the mousemaid spoke up. "It was nothing, my dear. Only a bit of a misunderstanding." She tried hard to keep her voice from shaking.

Her husband nodded, looked at the ottermaid, and smiled. "Well, I see our little warrior here is awake. Do you know it's been two days since we found you on the shore? Well of course you wouldn't, you've been asleep! Silly me..."

The ottermaid couldn't help but smile at the mouse's ramblings. "I'm sorry if I caused any alarm." Then she looked around, suddenly looking confused and skeptical. "Where am I?"

The mousemaid, now very warm to the young otter, patted her shoulder. "Why dearie, this is our home. We live in the foret just off the ocean shore. Last night we found you on the beach, all curled up and shivering, and brought you here." The motherly mouse motioned to the curved sword the ottermaid still had clutched in her paw. "I think, however, we would both appreciate it if you put the sword down, for safety reasons is all."

The ottermaid gently set the sword on the bed. The mousemaid's husband put an arm around his wife and motioned for the otter to sit. She did, and the other two pulled up chairs. Clearly they were in for a long conversation. The male mouse spoke first.

"I am Boqved, and this is my wife Evy. We are peaceful woodlanders who do not see many creatures other than mice like ourselves around here, until we met you. You are free to stay as long as you please, but first we must know who you are."

Nodding, the ottermaid looked at Boqved and his wife, and spoke. "My name is...is...." She trailed off, then her eyes widened.

Evy gasped. The maid didn't remember who she was. How was she supposed to remember anything else if not her own name? The mouse looked at her husband. "Boqved! She doesn't remember! The poor dear, what do we do?"

Boqved knelt down in front of the ottermaid, looking her straight in the eyes. "Miss, do you know your name? Do you know anything?"

The maid slowly shook her head, tears coming to her eyes. She couldn't remember a thing, and she was scared. Evy could clearly see that, and embraced the maid out of maternal instincts. "It's okay dearie. Everything will be okay." As she patted the maid's head, Evy felt the bandage that ran around one ear and along the back of the ottermaid's head. She had been bleeding from a head wound when they had found her.

Evy looked at Boqved. "The bandage! Boqved, when she hit her head, she must have lost her memory!"

Boqved nodded solemnly. Now that it was gone, it could be hard for the maid to get her memory back, if it came back at all. The mouse forced himself not to think like that, but it was better to prepare for the worst. He left to fetch some new cordial and a few freshly baked rolls for their visitor. Meanwhile, Evy decided to give the ottermaid a name herself. She wore a deep green tunic that was ripped and dirtied. Her belt held a long sheath for the strangely beautiful curved sword that lay on the bed, but what fascinated Evy the most was the gold band around the maid's right arm. It was intricately carved with suns and waves below them, no doubt a sign of her heritage. She bore nothing else but a small Freesia flower tucked into her belt. How it stayed there through all the tossing and battering she must have recieved in those waves Evy did not know, but she did know a name for her, at least until she hopefully recovered her memory.

"Freesia!" She said enthusiastically.

The ottermaid looked at the mouse like she had two heads. "Pardon me marm?"

Evy smiled warmly. "It's your new name, dearie. Of course, if you're alright with it."

"Yeah, I am." The ottermaid nodded. "For now though. Freesia. It's pretty." Suddenly, she looked down at the flower on her belt, her eyes lighting up. "Freesia! That's the flower my mother gave me on my birthday a week ago..."

The maid looked up at Evy and they both locked eyes. "You remembered." Evy whispered.

The ottermaid, now called Freesia, nodded, and Boqved entered the room. He looked at the two of them and asked, "What happened?" for the second time that day.

Freesia laughed. "I remembered where I got the flower from. My mother. A week ago..." She trailed off again. Her mother. There was something she longed to remember, but it just wouldn't come. Boqved saw the maid was troubled, and held out the tray of cordial and rolls.

"Here. You look famished, and this'll probably help. Please, enjoy."

Freesia took the offered vittles and ate and drank furiously. It had been days since she had eaten, and the only drink she'd had was the bitter saltwater swallowed in the waves. To get even a semi-decent meal was plenty good for her. When the maid had eaten her fill, she looked up to see the two mice staring at her. Never had they seen a beast with such a voracious appetite, save for the hares, but that was their nature.

"Um, thank ye kindly." Freesia stuttered, embarrassed. "I haven't eaten in a while."

Evy beamed like a mother watching her little child. "I understand dearie. Now you rest and I will go prepare dinner. The sun's almost setting you know!"

With that ending note, the little motherly mousemaid left the room. Boqved sat beside Freesia, fascinated by the curved blade. The ottermaid saw his longing and smiled. "You can look at it if you want, but please be careful."

Boqved nodded and picked up the sword slowly, almost reverently. He examined it in front of him, his eyes narrowing, trying to decipher the intricate writing on the blade. "This...why this looks like it was written in the old Northern tongue. There are very few beasts who can read this nowadays!"

Freesia bent down to examine the writing as well, interested in the mystery of it. "Really? I never did know what that was." She stroked the writing lightly, suddenly amazed by it, how beautifully it was carved, the way it shone in the rays of the setting sun shining through the window. Boqved looked up at the ottermaid, his eyes kind.

"I can tell you want answers young one. I may be able to help."

Freesia met his eyes and nodded. Any good advice would help right now. Boqved continued. "There is an Abbey, Redwall Abbey if I got the name correct, southeast of here. There are many wise and helpful creatures there, and probably a few otters like yourself. They could help you find your memory and whatever else you need, as I am afraid my wife and I are no help to you save for food and shelter." The mouse chuckled at his statement, but Freesia looked at him solemnly and placed a paw on his.

"No, you're more than that. You rescued me and gave me sanctuary when I was alone and helpless. You're every bit as good as those Abbeybeasts." She smiled at it, a smile of true thankfulness.

Boqved smiled back. "Why thank ye kindly miss. I do suggest you make your way to the Abbey. There are plenty of woodlanders around here who will help you on your way." The ottermaid nodded quickly, still smiling.

The happy moment was shattered when a shout was heard in the distance. Freesia and Boqved stood quickly. Evy ran into the room, her eyes wide with fright.

"Quick! We must get to the cellar! They're coming!"

Freesia was confused by what was happening, but found herself running with the two mice into the trees. There she found a well hidden wooden door that led to a cellar in the roots of a huge oak tree. Evy climbed down into the drafty, yet roomy space in the ground, then Boqved, but Freesia stopped.

"Freesia! Hurry in dearie!" Evy cried, but the ottermaid turned and bolted toward the house.

"The sword!" was the only thing the mouse couple heard before she was lost from their sight.

Freesia darted into the room where the sword lay. However, she was shocked to see two rats standing in the doorway across from her. They stared at her, neither expecting the other to be there. More vermin joined them and Freesia dove onto the bed, grabbed the curved sword, and turned to see the rats charging at her. She launched herself off the bed and on top of the tatooed vermin. They screeched in pain as Freesia sliced through the fray, taking down three in one long stroke of the powerful blade. The sight of the crazed, sword-bearing ottermaid wasn't enough to frighten the quartet of weasels who invaded the room as well, and they ran over their fallen comrades to get to the maid.

Freesia saw them and charged, whirling the blade like she had done so all her life. Within seconds, three were dead, and a fourth lay on the floor, gasping for air and trying to cover up his mutilated side. No more vermin came, and Freesia dropped the sword, her sudden bloodlust gone. Her legs gave out and she fell to the floor beside the dying weasel. He glanced over at her and, despite his condition, started laughing maniacally.

"You think you've one, don't you waterdog? You think you're so powerful, eh?"

Freesia eyed him oddly, then narrowed her eyes. "What're you saying, vermin?"

He laughed again, more choked up this time as the injury was getting to him. "Don't act like you don't know. The great Fireblade will kill you and all woodlanders like he did your little family up north."

Suddenly, something struck home. Freesia's eyes widened. The screams, the crashing blades, the ship against the rocks, it all came back to her in a tumbling mass of horror, crashing through the barriers of her memory. The ottermaid screamed and whirled her blade at the weasel. No more would he talk and say such terrible things.

Freesia ran out of the little house, fresh tears lining her eyes, threatening to fall. Those terrifying images she'd seen that night on the beach were back, but she still couldn't remember anything else. It was so frustrating not to remember! The ottermaid shook her head, trying to rid herself of the pictures and sounds in her head. She half stumbled back to where the cellar was, but upon reaching it, she found no one. The doors were flung open, but neither of the mice were there. The stench that had reeked from the vermin in the house reached her again, and Freesia fell to her knees.

"Why?" She whispered brokenly. "Why did those innocent beasts get taken and I'm left here?" She looked up at the darkening sky. "What did they do?" Freesia asked in a now harsh whisper. There she was again, alone in the dark, with nothing but her broken memory and the sword with the carven words to accompany her.

Freesia thought carefully of her next move. It was obvious that there were more vermin where those had come from. She couldn't go on a one beast rescue mission. What about that Abbey Boqved had told her about? Yes! The good beasts at Redwall would certainly want to help rescue her two captured friends. Freesia stood and looked back up at the starry sky, her eyes hard and determined as she walked off into the woods.

Chapter Four
Tavish stood on the rampart of Redwall Abbey's west wall, the early morning breeze cool and cleansing on his tired body. Rinje Quickbreeze's information about the oncoming horde led by the so called 'Oltar Fireblade' had completely ruined what was supposed to be a celebratory night. Badgermum Misera and Abbot Ivan had gone back to Great Hall to finish the feast along with Brother Verne, but the old squirrel had insisted on leaving that night, so he had not joined them. Tav heard Brecken's footsteps as she climbed the stairs to the walltop before he saw her. He sighed. The maid was a good companion and a loyal fighter, but Tav had the feeling she felt more for him than he did for her. By no means was he trying to be rude, but it just wasn't meant to be that way, and Brecken was hard to dissuade.

"Skipper? You okay up here?" He heard Brecken whisper softly behind him. Oh dear, he thought, this isn't going to be good. He sighed and turned, and saw that Brecken had changed into a pretty, dark blue tunic that reflected her dark eyes in the moonlight. Tav had to stop himself from groaning with frustration.

"Yeah. I'm fine. Just a little tired." Tav leaned against the wall. Brecken nodded and moved to stand next to him, a little too close. She sighed and looked up at the crescent moon.

"It's been an odd day, ain't it Skip?" She laughed softly, and Tav laughed halfheartedly with her. The ottermaid continued. "What about that old squirrel, Quickbreeze? And that news..." She shivered at the thought of it and drew closer to Tav, who was becoming increasingly uncomfortable.

"Eh, yeah...not the kind of news you want to hear everyday mate." Tav saw Brecken wince when he called her 'mate'. She clearly didn't want to be regarded as his friend, his comrade, his second in command. He continue carefully. "But, you nearly had me scared to death sneaking up on us earlier. You're a mighty good fighter, Brecken."

The compliment seemed to just make the ottermaid angry. She sighed heavily and moved away from her Skipper. "Thanks Skip. I think I'll just head down to the kitchens and see if'n old Rikk has anymore hotroot soup." With that, Brecken was gone, down the stairs and off to Great Hall.

Tav sighed and sunk down to the bricks, leaning his head back and gazing up at the moon. What am I going to do with her? He thought. Now, though, Skipper of Otters had more important things on his mind. Although they had agreed to hold a Warriors' Council tomorrow in Cavern Hole, Tav couldn't stop thinking about Quickbreeze's ominent news. And that Fireblade...could it really be the fox from his dream? Was the horde Quickbreeze said was as large as that of Ungatt Trunn's actually heading to Redwall?

Tav shook his tired head and made his way down the stairs himself, hungry and needing some company, other than that of Brecken. The breeze was strengthening, and Tav shivered as he jogged across the Abbey grounds. Autumn was coming to and end soon, and no doubt about that. They needed to have the fall harvest within the next two weeks before the snows came. When would the fox's horde reach Redwall? Before or during the snows? No one had any answers, and as Tav entered the dimly lit Great Hall, he saw the Abbeybeasts who still hung about were tired and in no modd to think of approaching vermin.

He saw Misera Badgermum helping a half asleep Brother Rikk up the stairs to the dormitories. Abbot Ivan was chatting Misera and the squirrel Kayra Redleaf in low voices. Tav didn't have to guess what they were talking about. A few other Abbeybeasts hung about, putting away the remains of the apparently successful feast, but no others were there. Cavern Hall was now a place of solitude and seriousness.

Tav approached the Abbot, who bore a very serious look on his face. Kayra was shaking her head, no doubt she knew the story now. Skipper put a comforting paw on the squirrel's shoulder. "Don't you worry marm. We'll get through this somehow."

Abbot Ivan smiled half-heartedly. "I don't think you feel as sure as you sound, Skip."

Kayra laughed. "Don't worry Father Abbot, he's just trying to be optimistic. You can't blame him for that." Tav grinned comically, and Ivan couldn't help but laugh too.

"I suppose not. We all should be getting some rest though. Tomorrow we can talk about war and such things."

With that, he was up to his room, followed by Kayra Redleaf. Tav sighed. Once again, he was the only one up with too much on his mind to go to sleep. Tav sat tiredly down on a bench and looked out one of the windows of Great Hall, his mind thinking back to what the old squirrel had said about the vermin horde. Rinje had said that they were the "most bloodthirsty, ragged rabble of vermin I had ever had the displeasure to slap my poor eyes on."

Tav smiled at the memory of the little creature's words, despite the meaning of them. The horde was huge and dangerous, as all searats were. Skipper of Otters had been in little battles, mere run-ins with vermin, but never all out war. How was he, inexperienced in the art of large-scale battles, supposed to protect the Abbey against that fox's might? He knew it.

Help. Redwall needed help, and Tav knew just where they would find it.



Oltar Fireblade, fox corsair leader of the seavermin horde, stood tall and proud on a hilltop, surveying his hordebeasts as they bumbled around, clearing spots to sleep, warming their paws over fires, or scrabbling over a hunk of meat. Oltar was a sight to behold. A long scar across his face and the many scratches all over his body showed that he had been fighting, and winning, for a long time. His black eyes were piercing and unmerciful, as he always was. The corsair bore three daggers on a strap across his back, a long rapier on a strap going the opposite way, and his favorite weapon, a sharp curved cutlass he kept in a sheath at his side. Oltar gripped the cutlass impatiently. Where were the scouts he'd sent out earlier? They should be back by now!

A small, hunched figure approached him from behind and limped to the side of the fox lord. She was a fox, just like himself, and a herbalist, the only one Oltar confided in, although he did not completely trust her. She looked up at him, her eyes glowing strangely red in the moonlight. Her voice was quiet and raspy.

"My lord. The scouts. They have not yet returned?"

The corsair rolled his eyes. "Yes Rutera, I can see that. What news do you have of that otter we captured from the raid?"

Rutera stiffened. If she told her master the wounded otter escaped, she was dead. Then, if she lied, the torture would be worse than death. Thankfully, her hide was saved when Oltar spotted the scouts he'd sent come out from the cover of the trees.

"Ah! There they are. You can tell me later my healer. I must go greet them."

The vixen exhaled loudly. Thank goodness for the interruption. It wasn't the first time her life had been spared. She watched as the corsair strode down the hill and through the camp, rats standing straight to attention as he passed by.

Oltar approached three vermin dragging along two fat little mice, hugging each other and shaking in fear. The fox looked the two rats and a ferret over, quickly becoming annoyed again. "Three? I sent ten of you worthless creatures out to scout, and three return?" the scouts started getting nervous as the Fireblade's voice rose.

"Did you run into a bunch of bally badger lords!?! You are trained soldiers, corsairs! What, did these things manage to kill off seven of you?" He thrust a paw toward the mice, his eyes seering into the vermin as one of the rats made his report in a shaky, uncertain voice.

"Your mightiness...w-we scouted, as you asked, a-and found th-these two up near the c-c-coast." Oltar shook his head and closed his dark eyes in exasperation and motioned for the rat to continue. "B-but there was a-a-an otter sire..."

The fox's eyes snapped open and he leaned toward the rat, a leering grin on his scarred features. "Please, tell me more..." he hissed. The rat, named Fligg gulped audibly and quickly nodded.

"S-she came out of nowhere, o Dark One. S-six of ours went in, but she slayed them within seconds sire. I managed to get away and found the mice hiding in a cellar. We caught them and brought them back to you! I swear upon Dark Forest, that otter had the Bloodwrath my lord! The Bloodwrath it was as she killed them in one stroke of her mighty..." Fligg's frightened tirade shriveled under Oltar's gaze.

The corsair stood up straight and examined the three who had made it back to camp. More vermin were gathering, interested in the tale of the berzerk otter. Fireblade spoke, his voice reeking with sarcasm.

"So...let me get this straight...seven of you were slain by a wild ottermaid. You escaped with those two and brought me back mice. Mice...and no otter." Fligg and the others stood stock still, The Fireblade was mad, and Fligg knew what he would ask next.

"There were ten of you. Why didn't you get the otter?" Oltar's voice was light and innocent, but Fligg was rooted to the spot, unable to speak. Dringe, the ferret in the trio, and not a very bright one at that, pointed his index claw up in a matter-of-fact manner, and answered.

"'Cause you'm didn't tell us too, your might'ness."

There were audible gasps from the crowd that had gathered, and Fligg felt ready to pass out. The other rat who had accompanied them, Redskull, groaned under his breath. The fox corsair bristled at Dringe's comment. He relaxed quickly into a sly grin, and gave the ferret a sympathetic look.

"Dringe, me old mate, let me tell you something. When I sent you out, I sent you to scout, to find things of importance, to find places of importance, to find beasts of importance. The otter, my friend, was a beast of importance." No beast saw Oltar draw the cutlass, but he did, and with frightening speed. Fligg winced, sweat rolling down his brow, as the body of Dringe fell to the ground. Oltar looked at the two rats with a terrifying glare.

"Fligg, I spare your life because you gave a report, and you Redskull because you were smart enough to say nothing." The fox turned to the horde of vermin who stood in silence, and spoke in a fearsome voice. "Clearly if this idiot does not know what a beast of importance is, then he is of no importance to me!" Oltar kicked the dead ferret aside. "Let this go for all of you. When I give instructions, I expect them to be followed! Those who disobey me or fail to complete my demands with answer to me, Oltar Fireblade, Commander of Land and Sea!"

The horde chanted back to their leader in unison, the mass of voices seeming to shake the very stars from the sky.

"Oltar Fireblade, Commander of Land and Sea!"

"AHAHAHAHAHAAAAA!!!"

Tav sat bolt upright in his bed, eyes wide and breath coming fast. The otter sighed deeply and put his head in his paws wearily. The dream had come again, and this time there was more. The ottermaid had called his name, a beautiful yet pleading voice. Tav loved the way she said his name...

The Skipper shook his head and climbed out of the bed, all thoughts of sleep gone. Why was he thinking like that? What if this maid wasn't even real. But that wasn't the most troubling part. It sent goosebumps down Tav's spine thinking about the fox. The fox with the flaming blade had struck down the maid, looked at Tav, and laughed, laughed maniacally. The thought of the poor ottermaid got Tav angry, and he had to calm himself before the dream completely took control.

Tav sighed again and went to sit on the windowseat, gazing up at the gorgeous night sky, dotted with stars and a waning moon. His mind began to wander, thinking about a lullaby his mother used to tell him when he was a babe:


 * Sleep my little baby, 
 * don't you fear. 
 * The stars are watching you, 
 * from far or near. 
 * When you can't find your way home, 
 * look up above. 
 * The stars are my eyes, 
 * filled with love. 
 * Think of me, darling, 
 * think of me dear. 
 * And I will be with you, 
 * no need to fear. 
 * Sleep my little baby, 
 * as I sing to you with love. 
 * The stars are my eyes, 
 * from above. 

Tav felt a tear run down his cheek, and he quickly wiped it away, though no one was watching. The last time he had seen his beloved mother was far back when he was only a mere otter kit. Now she was dead to his best knowledge, poisoned by some unknown scum. His father had run off to find the vermin who killed her, and he had been brought to the Abbey by Iva, Father Ivan's mother. The tears now were from anger as Tav thought of the fateful night to which he had few memories, yet it stuck in his mind as something to torture him every now and then. He smiled ruefully as he thought of a comment made by Kayra just a few days before...

"You have a great life Skip. You're luckier than most!"

Ha! She had no idea of the life he'd had. Tav leaned his head against the window and quietly shed his tears, the beautiful lullaby repeating itself over and over in the poor otter's mind.



The Council of War as under way. Misera Badgermum, Abbot Ivan, Skipper of Otters, Kayra Redleaf, Foremole Bunkel, Tav's crew, and a few assorted others who were educated in the art of battle were gathered in Cavern Hole. They were sitting around the huge wooden table Foremole had officially dubbed as the Table of Warriors. The Father Abbot spoke first.

"Welcome my children, friends. As you know, we have been targeted by one called Oltar Fireblade and his horde, and from the mouth of Rinje Quickbreeze, they are marching here, or are going to."

The Abbot let the message sink in. Foremole was shaking his velvety head, Kayra's eyes were gleaming with hate, Misera was sitting quietly, pondering, and Brecken was watching her Skipper's reaction. Tav remained quiet, however he looked as if he wanted to say something. Ivan continued.

"Since it has come to our fronts, this council has been brought together, and considering we are too few to counter this should the horde decide to attack, it is only obvious that we need outside assistance. Does anyone have anything they would like to present?"

Misera Badgermum cleared her throat, and the Abbot's eyes shifted to her.

"We may ask of help from Salamandastron, Father Abbot."

Tav's eyes widened, and a smile began to form on his lips. She'd taken the words right from his mouth! Without second thought, he blurted out, "I second that decision, Father!"

Abbot Ivan glanced back at Tav. He sighed. "Salamandastron may be a good idea, but it is so far away! The troops may not come in time! Plus whoever we send to them may be at risk of running into the horde themselves!"

Misera saw the light go out of Tav's eyes. She to lost some of the vigor that had been there moments ago. Foremole Bunkel held up a huge digging claw. "If'n oi moight bee ursistoince. Wot about if'n Roidwall gott'm cloiser urmy oind Soilomandoistrun?"

Riverleap Smoothstream, an otter in Tav's crew, laughed at the clueless look on her Abbot's face. "Steady on mate. He's sayin' wot about gettin' help from around the Abbey, and from the ol' mountain too."

Misera laughed as Ivan understood. The Abbot spoke again. "Good thinking Foremole, very good thinking actually. Hmm...we could rally some help from Mossflower to protect the Abbey, while-"

"-a group goes off to Salamandastron to bring troops!" Tav finished for him, excited once again.

Father Abbot eyed the otter with a smile. "And I suppose you'd be the first on the waiting list to go, Skip?"

Tav grinned so hugely, Abbot Ivan was forced to the laugh. "All right, all right. I give you my permission to recruit a party to go to the mountain." The Abbot became more serious. "But you must stay here until we get others to help protect Redwall. I do not want our whole procession of otters roaming off and leaving us defenseless."

Kayra snickered and everyone turned to her. Ivan gave her a quizzical look and she started to laugh. "Father, I think you just hurt our Badgermum's feelings."

The Abbot turned to Misera, who was sitting with a look of mock rejection on her face, and the whole council burst into laughter.



There it was. Just beyond the trees was the Redwall Abbey Boqved had told her about. Freesia grinned and strode forward through the brush. She was one step closer to saving her friends, and completely oblivious to the pair of weasels just beyond her range of hearing.



"Bet'cha me can toss this'ere sword tae the end o' that cleering there!" the dark-furred weasel, Cdurf, bragged to his sandy colored companion, Svilt. Svilt snickered and prodded him with the flat of her dagger. "Bet'cha can't!" She hissed playfully.

Cdurf scoffed and exaggeratedly prepared himself to throw the short sword. He threw the blade with surprising accuracy, just as Freesia was walking through the clearing. The ottermaid had no time to see what the noise was, and the pommel of the blade smacked into the side of her head, knocking her into unconsciousness mere yards from the Abbey.

The two weasels stared at each other, and Svilt jabbed a finger into her companion's arm. "You kilt it! Now what're we gunna do?"

Cdurf looked scared. "We run! Thata be a wat'rdog. They'm wander in groops. The rest o' them be 'round here somwh're!"

Svilt understood. If that otter was in a group, then they didn't want to stick around when the rest of them came back. They would be deadbeasts. With that, the two weasels took off deep into the underbrush of Mossflower, not knowing that, by a stroke of luck, the young ottermaid was alive.



Up on the front rampart of Redwall Abbey, oblivious to the sudden turn of events, a young mousemaid named Oera was skipping down the walltop, singing to herself.

"I once met a vole, who looked like a mole. He lived in a hole, and, and...ran with the Long Patrol!" Oera rambled on, making up the lyrics as she went along. She twirled her blue homespun dress, spinning and spinning until dizziness got the best of her, and she was forced to lean against the brick of the wall. Oera glanced over to see her friend Bree Redleaf, Kayra's daughter, running toward her. The squirrelmaid did a flying cartwheel and landed in a heap beside her friend.

"Oera! What're ye doing up here by yonself?"

The mousemaid smiled and shrugged. "I don't know Bree. Just having an afternoon stroll I suppose."

Bree laughed and looked over the wall. "Gorgeous day to take a stroll. I say, just look at Mossflower, so lively on an afternoon like thi-" She stopped short and gasped. "Oera! Look!"

The two friends looked down over the wall. Oera gasped as well. There, at the edge of the trees, lay an otter.

Bree jumped up and grabbed Oera's paw. "Come! We must tell the Abbot and Misera!" The afternoon had suddenly taken a serious turn.



Father Abbot Ivan and Misera Badgermum stood alongside Tav as the prone form of the ottermaid was brought it on a stretcher. The Abbot's eyes were filled with worry. He hated seeing another creature so helpless. Misera had a comforting paw on his shoulder.

"Do not worry, Father. Sister Neiva is the pride of Redwall for her skill with herbs. She will have this maid up and at 'em in no time." the Badgermum looked down at Bree Redleaf, who stood on Ivan's other side. "That was a responsible thing you did coming to us, Bree."

The squirrelmaid smiled weakly. "Thank ye Misera, but I'm worried for that ottermaid. She's so pretty. I would hate to think the worst for somebeast like her."

Misera chuckled sympathetically. "She will be fine young one, isn't that right Skip? Skipper?"

Tav was not listening to the badger. He was staring at the maid as she was carried into Great Hall. It can't be, he thought. But it was. The maid from his dream was real, and she was at Redwall Abbey.

Chapter Six
Skipper of Otters was fast asleep next to the bed of the strange ottermaid who had come to the Abbey about four hours before. She too was sleeping preacefully, deemed in stable condition by Sister Neiva. It took plenty to convince the stubborn sister, but Tav was eventually allowed in to the infirmary to see the maid. He had watched her as she slept, enraptured by the fact that she was, most definitely, the ottermaid from his dream. Now he was out cold, and was being watched by a curious Sister Ella in the doorway, who was soon joined by Misera Badgermum. Ella smiled when she saw Tav and the maid.

"Now, won't ya look'm at that! I'm say our Skipper be'm smitten." The old mouse said with a grin. Misera laughed.

"I think you're right, Ella. Just wait until the maid's awake!"

The two friends walked off laughing just as Sister Neiva came bumbling to Tav's side, another batch of physick in her paws. She gently shook the otter and he jolted awake.

"Whu-, huh?"

The Sister smiled sympathetically. "You are in the infirmary Skipper. Remember? You had to stay at the maid's side, and you would not take no for an answer."

Tav's cheeks turned a deep red and he stood. "Uh, you're right Sister. I'll just check on, uh, dinner..." With that he was gone. Neiva watched him go, chuckling.

"It is not even lunchtime you lovestruck waterdog."

"I'm not lovestruck..." a sleepy voiced said behind her. Sister Neiva turned in surprise, dropping the physick, to see the ottermaid sitting up crookedly in the bed, her eyes heavy with sleep. The Sister smiled and began cleaning up the sudden mess.

"Not you my dear. Now, while I clean this up...how was your nap?"

The ottermaid looked at the happy old hedgehog strangely. "Wh-where am I?"

Neiva stopped cleaning and looked up, her face motherly. "Why, you are at Redwall Abbey dearie. You were unconscious when we found you and you've been here for a few hours."

"Redwall? Redwall Abbey?" The maid's voice was almost delirious. Sister Neiva realized this and quickly sweeped away the remnants of the physick. She bumbled to the maid's side and placed a cool cloth on her forehead.

"You were hit hard on the side of the head. Do not plague your mind with questions. Just rest and I will have Friar Rikk bring you up some warm vegetable soup. It always clears the mind." Neiva glanced at the maid. "If you do not mind me asking, what is your name, pray?"

"Freesia..." The ottermaid whispered before falling back onto the pillows, pulled back into unconsciousness. The infirmary keeper dabbed her patient's face lightly.

"Freesia. Well, welcome to our Abbey, Freesia." Neiva said gently.


 * The sun was setting over Redwall, and everybeast was buzzing about the arrival of their newest arrival. Freesia's name was mentioned in every room, and frankly, Abbot Ivan was sick of it. He came bustling into the gatehouse where Misera Badgermum and Brecken sat deep in discussion. The old badger smiled sympathetically and offered the mouse some grapes, a biscuit, and the rest of a glass of cordial.

"Here Father Abbot, please take these. You look hungry."

Ivan laughed weakly as he sat down beside the two. "Thank you Misera. I suppose I have been thinking to much and completely forgotten about eating."

Brecken glared at the floor. "Thinkin' about that stupid maid that everybeast is talkin' about, no doubt." She mumbled.

Misera and Ivan looked at the ottermaid. The Badgermum's eyes widened. "Now Brecken, what's with this kind of talk? It sounds to me like you object to our new arrival. You don't even know her!"

Brecken stood quickly, still glaring. "Well apparently Skipper does." With that, she turned on her heel and stalked out of the gatehouse, all thoughts of conversation blown away.

Abbot Ivan sighed. "Clearly we do not know our friend Brecken as well as we thought we did, Misera." He ate a grape and leaned back on a bookcase. Misera nodded.

"I agree. Do you suppose we should tell the Skipper about this?"

The Abbot chuckled. "Somehow I think Tav already has an idea of what Brecken thinks of him and the maid." He decided to change the subject. "Now, tell me, what were you and the ottermaid speaking about in such serious tones?"

Misera nodded. "I meant to tell you, Ivan. Very early in the morning, I walked out to the Abbey pond for I could not sleep, and a bird, a falcon in fact, landed in the courtyard. He told me he had news from Salamandastron."

"News? What kind of news, Misera?" The Abbot leaned forward in sudden anticipation.

"It is from Lord Southstar. He requests a Council of Mossflower."

"Council of Mossflower?" The mouse was taken aback. "But, but there has not been one since the CORIM in the days of Martin the Warrior! Is the threat of this Oltar Fireblade so horrible that a Badger Lord would call upon those circumstances?"

Misera shrugged. "I don't know Father. However, I see this as an opportunity for Tavish. He was begging to go to Salamandastron. Now that there is an even better reason to go, I say we send him."

"Yes, but it isn't like we can send the entire otter crew with him. We need plenty of protection, Misera."

The badger understood. "Brecken stays behind." She stated simply.

The Abbot nodded. "She will not like it, but she is Skipper's second in command, and therefore must be here with the crew in his absence. Now, we just need a crew of our own to go with him."

Misera smiled. "I'm glad you took this so lightly, Father Abbot. Now, we must go see if the maid they call Freesia is awake. I don't think she has had a proper introduction to the Abbot of Redwall yet, eh?"

Ivan laughed. "Come, my old friend. Let's pay her a visit."

The two friends exited the gatehouse, laughing uncontrollably as the Abbot burped in the most impolite manner, probably from too much cordial. Little did they know someone had been listening. Brecken stood behind a large oak near the gatehouse. She had heard everything, and was not happy about it at all.


 * Abbot Ivan and Misera Badgermum poked their heads into the doorway of the infirmary. The badger chuckled as she glanced around for signs of Sister Neiva.

"Look at us Ivan. Sneaking about like a couple of Dibbuns. Now, where is our little guest?"

"Freesia's not to be seeing vistor's now, that's where." A firm voice came from behind them. The two jumped and whirled to see Sister Neiva standing, hands on hips, a glare on her sharp features.

Ivan smiled sweetly. "I'm so very sorry Sister. It's just, we never had a proper introduction to, um, Freesia."

"Hmph! She's in no state for proper introductions Father, thank you anyways." Sister shuffled in the infirmary and over to where the ottermaid lay, two empty soup bowls and a nearly completely eaten loaf of bread on the nightstand. Misera's eyes widened.

"Goodness! That maid has the appetite of a hare!"

The Abbot laughed. "She surely does. I wonder if it's because she has gone too many days without food. I'm so very curious to know more about her, yet with Neiva around, I do not think that's going to happen soon."

Misera nodded and patted her friend on the back and turned to leave. "Yes. Come Father Abbot. We need to focus on more important issues at hand. War is soon to be on our front."

The ottermaid, Freesia, who was now awake again, watched the two leave and glanced at Sister Neiva. "Who're they?" She asked sleepily. Neiva smiled and gently pushed the maid back onto the pillows.

"That was our Abbot and Badgermum. They just came by to see you, but you're much too tired for introductions right now. Rest, Freesia. Soon you can go about the Abbey and meet whom you'd like to."

Freesia lay back down but was eager to go after the two figures who had left just seconds ago. Boqved had said they had answers, and an Abbot was sure to be wise enough to help. But under the mouse nurse's watchful eyes, she wasn't going anywhere for now. Sleep had evaded her, and now Freesia was confined to the bed, unable to do anything without the Sister noticing. She sighed and propped herself up on the bed. However, when the maid tried to sit up quickly, a sharp pain ran through her head, and she fell back onto the pillows with a groan.

"That is why I told you to lay down missie! You have an injury, and you need to take it slow!" Neiva rushed to Freesia's side, applying more of the cold cloth to the side of her head.

"Thanks." The ottermaid mumbled, then winced when the cloth touched her temple. "You were right."

Sister Neiva smiled and rolled her eyes. "Of course I was, you young rogue."

The nurse's smile faded as she looked the tired ottermaid over. "Now, time to get down to more serious topics. Do you know anything about where you're from, Freesia? Anything like that?"

The maid stared wide-eyed at the mouse, then after a long period of silence, slowly shook her head. Still, there was nothing. Little blips of things here and there, but beside her name, Freesia remembered nothing.

Neiva sighed. "Just as I feared. Perhaps we will need the Abbot to see you sooner than I expected. Stay here, and I will go get him." The little mouse bumbled out of the infirmary. Freesia saw her chance. She snuck to the doorway, slower movements not triggering the sudden headaches. She peeked out and crept down the hall unknowingly toward Great Hall, her brown eyes shining.

Freesia tip-toed down the hallway, now dimly lit in the early evening. Suddenly, the hall opened up to a staircase and led down to Great Hall. The maid stood, frozen, her eyes probing the scene before here. Large wooden tables were scattered here and there, as were Abbeybeasts. A huge arch in one end led to the kitchens, while on another wall hung a large tapestry with a mouse woven on it, carrying a magnificent sword. But it was not the arhcitecture of the room that made her stop.

Sitting on the tables chatting was Skipper and his crew, as well as Abbot Ivan, Misera Badgermum, and Sister Neiva. Freesia was about to turn and run back when she locked eyes with a handsome, burly young otter sitting next to the bagder. Tav's own eyes widened when he saw the maid standing at the top of the staircase. It was her again, the one from his dream. And she was beautiful. Suddenly, she whirled and ran back down the hall.

"Wait!" Tav cried out, to everybeast's surprise. He bounded off the table and up the stairs after the ottermaid. Brecken watched him go and gritted her teeth. No, not again. She ran after him, ignoring the calls from her Abbot and Misera. That maid was stealing Skip from her, and she wasn't having any of it.

Freesia's breath came fast as she skidded into the infirmary. She glanced around wildly, then, on a whim, dived into her bed and snuggled deep under the sheets. She barely heard the other otter entering the room over her heartbeat. Boy am I stupid, she thought. He'll think I'm a looney.

However, once she heard pawsteps, she held her breath and stayed as still as possible.

Tav saw the maid hidden under the bedcovers and smiled. She was acting just like a Dibbun who had been caught raiding the pastry cabinets. He strode over to the bed and bent over, bringing his face close to the ottermaid's head under the sheet.

"You know you're not foolin' anyone, right?" He whispered, trying not to laugh.

"I'm not?" A light, questioning reply came from under the covers.

Tav grinned. "Not really."

Freesia was thinking of what to do next. Reveal herself or stay hidden till Sister Neiva returned. Before she could make a decision, she heard another pair of paws making their way into the room.

Brecken stood in the doorway, breathing hard. Tav whirled to see his first mate standing in front of him, looking madder than a nest of hornets.

"Breck? What is it?"

Chapter Seven
Freesia dared a peek out from the covers and saw an ottermaid standing in the doorway and staring at her with a malicious glare. Freesia wanted to duck back under the sheets, but something told her not to.

Tav slowly walked toward Brecken, his voice soothing. "Brecken, calm down. What's wrong?" He asked in a lingering voice, almost afraid for an answer. Brecken's eyes were fixed on the maid hidden under the bed. It was her! She forced to keep herself calm when suddenly footsteps were heard. Abbot Ivan, Misera, and Sister Neiva appeared behind Brecken, all looking flustered and surprised.

"Now now, what is all this?" the Abbot asked, quickly pulling himself together. "Isn't it a little too late in the daytime for such ruckus? Skipper?" He laid a fatherly eye on Tav, who stood still in between Brecken and the bed where Freesia still lay, wide eyes peeking out from the white sheet.

"Um, well, you see..." Tav struggled for the right words.

"It was my fault Abbot." A voice was heard behind the the otter. Everybeast's attention turned to Freesia, who had gotten out of bed without a sound. "I, I snuck out o' this place and he caught me." She nodded to Tav.

Misera beamed. "Well, it seems we have a sensible, truthful beast in our Abbey. You say your name is Freesia, young one?"

"As far as I know." Freesia tried to sound confident, but something in her mind was screaming it was wrong. Misera could sense her uncertainty, but ignored it for the moment. She turned to Brecken.

"Now, what was your part in this, missie?" The badger asked almost accusingly, at least, as Brecken saw it. The ottermaid's eyes hardened and she turned to walk back down the hall without a word. Misera sighed. What was wrong with that maid? Ever since their guest's arrival, she had been so, so impossible. Ivan and Neiva saw it too, but set about other duties.

The infirmary keeper bustled in and set about making Freesia's bed. "Since apparently you are up and at 'em now miss, I suppose I'll get to business." She winked at the ottermaid.

The Abbot came is as well and examined the two otters standing in the room. His eyes were still on Tav. "Well then, I see you and Freesia got to know one another." He saw the maid make no move, but Skipper's cheeks reddened immediately. Ivan smiled. "I will take that as a yes." He looked over at Sister Neiva. "Come Sister. You can rest from your duties for a moment and join us for dinner."

The Sister laughed. "My work is never finished Father Abbot. Don't you worry, I will be down in a moment." And so she started sweeping.

Misera smiled at the sight of the motherly Sister humming to herself, sweeping here and there in places where there wasn't a speck of dust. She beckoned the maid, Freesia she said her name was, out to follow them to Great Hall for suppertime. I wonder if she's ever had a meal like Redwall's? The Badgermum thought.

Freesia followed the Abbot, the badger, and the otter they called Tav back down the hall to the huge room from whence she had just come. Now that she was in good hands, Freesia allowed herself to look around the room as they made their way down the staircase, marveling at the mere architecture of the place. She didn't happen to notice Tav looking at her every few moments. For some reason even he could not desire, he was enraptured by her, something the Skipper had never felt before. The closest he had ever felt to this was in the foggy memories of his mother...

Tav forced himself not to think of her. It would only lead to pain. Pain...was that what Brecken was experiencing. He looked back up the stairs, expecting her to come running down them. Nothing. There was something serious going on with her, and he had a strong sense it had to do with the new maid, Freesia.

Foremole Bunkel approached the group, a huge grin on his velvety face. "Oi be reckognin' zuppur's bein' surv'd soon!"

Abbot Ivan laughed. "Yes Bunkel. I can smell it too. It isn't even feast night and Friar Rikk prepares us a famine dinner. What a great Abbeybeast he is."

Misera nudged the old mouse. "Admit it Father, you only like him for his pudding!"

"Now Misera!" Ivan tried to say more, but he, Misera, and Foremole dissolved into laughter. Freesia, however, had found herself drawn to the huge tapestry she had seen earlier. It bore that herioc looking mouse with a shining sword at his side, a soft, yet roguish smile on his wise face. The same sword was hanging above the tapestry, glowing in the soft light of Great Hall. Tav noticed the maid staring up at Martin the Warrior and smiled. No matter who came to Redwall, they were always caught up in the legendary mouse's aura. He went to stand by Freesia, watching her face as he spoke.

"He's pretty amazing, ain't he miss?"

"What?" The maid started at the sight of Tav next to her. "Oh, yeah. Amazing. Wh-, who is he anyway?"

Tav grinned. "I figured you'd ask that. That's Martin the Warrior, our Abbey's founder and great warrior. Tis far too long a story to tell, but he's a great figure 'round here and is even said ta appear in dreams of those destined to be th' next Abbey warrior."

Freesia felt a shiver go down her spine at the otter's words, which were lingering in her head. "Wow. Sounds...interesting." She glanced at Tav, not knowing what else to say. He was smiling, a smile that was brighter than a sunset, and just as warm. She couldn't help but smile too.

The two turned at the call of Misera. It was time for dinner, and Abbeybeasts were already crowding Great Hall, eager for a good supper. Some saw Freesia and whispered to their friend, and others saw her and were curious. Many ignored her, to Freesia's great relief. The last thing she wanted in this unknown place was to be the center of attention.


 * Tulia Braefleet McScuttie looked back at the mountain of Salamandastron, dark in the early morning, the stronghold that had once been her home. No longer though. Now she was a free hare; free of the rules of her parents; free of whatever rule said she couldn't join the Long Patrol. Too young, hmph! She would show them, all of them. Tulia looked forward to where the mountains rose like jagged teeth piercing the sky, and sighed. Now began her trek.

Lord Southstar had said he needed a hare at Redwall Abbey to help protect the Abbeybeasts, and she was plenty up for the job. Leaving only a letter and her precious brooch given by her mother, Tulia had run away from Salamandastron, on a mission to show everybeast they were wrong about her. She fondled the pommel of her longsword set securely in its scabbard, and felt the daggar on her other side, just making sure they were there. Without looking back, Tulia made her way down the hill and toward the east, to Mossflower.



"Mayflaird! Mayflaird McScuttie!" A frantic cry echoed down the halls of Salamandastron. Mayflaird Braefleet McScuttie sat bolt upright in his bed, his keen ears picking up the shout. The hare leapt to the door of his room in a single bound and ran to the source of the sound, his heart racing. His wife, Brena, was standing in the hallway, fresh tears streaming down her motherly face. Mayflaird embraced her tightly, deeply worried.

"Wot's wrong, Brena? Wot is it?" He asked in a low, rushed voice.

"It's Tu-Tu-Tulia..." She whispered brokenly.

Brena's burly husband ran into their daughter's room. Nothing. Mayflaird was stunned. He could only stand their as more hares gathered into the room, awakened by Brena's cries. They knew what had happened immediately as they entered. Tulia was gone. One of the hares, Finolleap Spurwood, who was a very close friend of Tulia, happened to have heard the news, and was just as shocked. Why did she run away? Salamandastron was her home. There couldn't be a good reason for her to just, go.

The sun was slowly rising over the Western Sea as the news of Tulia's departure milled around throughout the mountain. It was breakfast time, and the hares of the Long Patrol were assembled at the huge table where they ate with the Badger Lord of Salamandastron, Lord Southstar. All of the young hares were bright and hungry, but a sort of solemness hung about the room. The thought of one of their hares suddenly missing with only a letter to giude them was...different. Never had this happened at the fortress. Finolleap, normally called Fin, sat silently, surrounded by his Patrol comrades. Suddenly, all fell silent.

The Badger Lord had arrived. A picture of power, splendor, and judiciousness, nobeast knew how to rule, or fight, like Lord Southstar. His sinewy arms and chest were covered by a simple maroon tunic. The broad, black sabre Southstar used hung by his side, where it always was. His eyes were huge and dark blue, rare for a badger, and shone with a light of a warrior, but also held the patience and respect of a true leader.

The hares stood smartly and saluted him with their swords. Southstar nodded in approval and everybeast sat, the food now brought out. Nobeast spoke, for all knew the matter at hand, especially the Badger Lord. He looked around at every one of his trusted fighting hares and spoke, his voice deep and strong.

"My friends, morning to you all. It is not a good one, I'm afraid, due to the sudden departure of one of our own. Now, most of you already know of Tulia's absence, but I would like to address the subject in a more dire manner. As we all know well, the fox Fireblade's troops are out there, in or near Mossflower, and now so is Tulia." He watched as eyes hardened and teeth clenched at the sound of the corsair's name.

"Therefore I have decided that somebeast, one of you, will leave the mountain and find her. She may be a good fighter, but young and inexperienced as well, and needs to be brought back for her own safety." Southstar did not say, but he already knew why the haremaid was gone. She wanted to prove herself worthy of the Long Patrol. And by leaving to fight for Redwall was how she intended to do so. Before he could say anything else, a paw shot up in the air, and Finolleap was on his feet.

"Me! I'll do it, sah!"

Southstar smiled fondly at the young hare. Finolleap Spurwood was the son of Hartleap Spurwood and grandson of Buckleap Spurwood, both legendary runners. They could outrun the very wind, and so could he. The hare was a newer recruit of the Patrol, but Southstar seriously considered sending him. If anyone could bring back Tulia, it was him.

"Well done Spurwood.":He began carefully, though still smiling. "I'll have to consult Brigadier Flytblade and Talia's father, the Captain about sending recruits, but thank you for your volunteering."

His spirit a bit dampened, but excited none the less, Fin nodded and sat back down. The hare next to him, Sage, seemed just as enthusiastic. "Just think Fin, ol' boy! Your first bally assignment! Congrajubilations!" The pretty haremaid complimented in the hares' normal entertaining language.

Fin shook a paw at her. "Nah-ah-ah! Not yet Sage me beauty. The Lordie himself's gotta approve me right to go. Way it works doncha know."

Sage laughed, and the two friends dug in to their breakfast. Down the hall from the main dining room was a snug alcove known to the hares as "The Office". It was where the higher ranks of the Long Patrol dined and gathered. Snoring away in a chair near the window with a dusty book on his lap was the old Major Copsleton Hadwill Silistra. He had served the Patrol longer than most of the hares on the mountain, and had been at Salamandastron longer than Southstar himself. Now, he spent most of the time eating and reading, and had gained quite a belly doing so, but couldn't resist a good fight when it came along.

Next to him, scanning the bookshelf with a monocled eye, was Lieutenant Dorothea Duckfontein Dillworthy. Completely named after her ancestor, she was known as Dotti to those ranked above her, and was probably the most feminine leader of the Patrol, very beautiful and clever. However, an injury in battle caused her to lose sight in her left eye. the monocle was neccesary, but certainly threw off some of her attractiveness.

She turned at the sound of somebeast enetering the room. Dotti did a quick salute as Brigadier Flytblade entered the room. She was the most experienced and dangerous fighter among the hares, and therefore had earned her rank, along with her uncanny diligence and fairness toward the recruits she led. Flytblade smiled at the Lieutenant and nodded toward their sleeping comrade.

"I see ol' Copsleton's getting an entra wink or two. Lovely mornin' for it, eh Dotti?"

Dotti laughed at the sight of the Major. "Indeed, Brig. I say though, did ye hear the news of our own little Tulia?"

Flytblade nodded solemnly. "'M afraid I did. Her mum's a mess and 'er poppa's not much better either. Fledge is down there comfortin' the two o' them. Sad day for the mountain, 'tis." A slow grin suddenly appeared on the Brigadier's face. "I've heard ol' Southstar's hatching a bally plan to get her back. An' guess what beast be wantin' tae go?"

"Eh...ye got me beat, Brig. The flippin' brain's jumbled."

"It be the new recruit, young mista Spurwood!"

"Finolleap? I say! Good show, the Lordie's givin' the little chap a chance!" Dotti was comletely hooked.

Flytblade laughed. "He is indeed. I 'eard him say he's got to talk with us 'bout it. Heehee! We've already got an answer for him, and guess who's goin' with old Fin?"

Dotti grinned as she understood, and the two hares looked at Major Copsleton, dozing in the warm sun rays drifting into the mountain of Salamandastron.


 * Finolleap Spurwood stood bouncing with anticipation on his tip-paws, waiting for the meeting to be adjourned. Rumor had spread like lightening that Fin, a new recruit, was going to be sent after the missing haremaid, Tulia. For now though, Lord Southstar, Brigadier Flytblade, and Captain Mayflaird McScuttie were discussing the arrangements. It was vital that all went smoothly, and with the imminent Mossflower Council with Redwall concerning the threat of the corsairs just around the corner, Southstar had a lot on his shoulders.

The door opened and Fin nearly leapt into Mayflaird's arms. The Captain laughed at the young hare's expression, surprising himself considering the matters at hand.

"Wot's the matter Spurwood? A bit antsy aren't we?" He settled Fin and the two stood aside as Flytblade and Southstar walked out. The Badger Lord smiled. "Well, well. Finolleap Spurwood. Just the hare we wanted to see. Learn anything?" Fin's cheeks turned red when he realized Southstar was talking about him eavesdropping.

"No, sah! Nobeast droppin' eaves here, sah!" He answered diligently. "Didn't hear a ballyflippin' thing, sah! And now the old tummy's rumblin'. Ought to go get some grub, eh? Toodaloo!" With that, Fin was gone, speeding down the hall to the kitchens in the lower floors. Flytblade shook her head and laughed as she watched the young leveret run.

"He's a good 'un, Fin is. I think ye've made the good decision my lord." She looked up at Southstar. He was watching the young hare go as well. The badger nodded, smiling.

"I have a good feeling about that one, Flyt. I think we have made the right choice." He turned to Mayflaird. "While I am thinking about it, have any of your runners returned yet, Captain?"

The Captain shook his head. "Not yet, m'lord. In fact, I'ma startin' tae get worried 'bout them."

Suddenly, a voice echoed from down the hall.

"They're back! M'lud, m'lud! They're back!"

The three friends stood wide-eyed as a young hare came sprinting towad them, remnants of breakfast still on his mouth. It was Katlyn, the cook Willtup's new assistant. Southstar steadied the haremaid with his huge paws, his voice calming.

"Steady there miss! Now, report to me what's happening."

Katlyn understood quickly. She stood straight and saluted the badger. "The runners 're back, sah! One o' them injured, sah! Rain's are comin', sah! End o' report, sah!" With that Katlyn was gone, back down the halls. Lord Southstar and the two hares looked at one another, then followed where the haremaid had gone, the sound of an approaching storm now loud in the distance.

Chapter Eight
That very storm had unleashed it's full power on the camp of Oltar Fireblade. The hordebeasts were arguing over spaces under trees or spots in makeshift tents to escape the drenching rain and seething cold wind. A few looked up at the hill where their Captain was nice and warm in his tent. One weasel, Girgeback, growled to his companions as he brought his food out of the rain.

"'Course ol' Fireblade gits ta be all warm 'n snuggly in his high an' mighty tent. We're down 'ere freezin' our tails off in tha pourin' rain!" Girgeback looked around as some of the vermin next to him nodded their agreement. One rat, a smart beast by the name of Lutgro, scoffed at the weasel's complaints.

"Hah! I bet ye wouldn't say that tae the Captain's face, ye lily-livered whiner!" Lutgro jabbed the weasel's footpaw with his shortsword. Girgeback growled and stood up, spitting in the rat's as he spoke, his blade menacing.

"So, you've got ta nerve ta chall'ge me, eh?:

Lutgro rolled his eyes. "Wouldn't be no chall'ge mate. I'd have ye beat in'a hummin'bird's wingbeat!"

Girgeback, infuriated by the insult, charged the rat, yelling manically. Before he could even take a slash, Lutgro sidestepped and struck in the same motion. He stood over the fallen weasel, the shortsword poking Girgeback's throat. Girgeback looked up at surprise at Lutgro, whose eyes were blazing as he spoke.

"Ev'r try an' cross me again, Girgeback, and I'll yer guts for garters!"

Lutgro walked off, leaving the defeated weasel sitting in the rain, rubbing his head, his eyes seething as he watched his new enemy disappear in the pouring rain. The vermin who had seen it happened went back to whatever they were doing. These kinds of things happened nearly everyday. It was only a matter of time before the Fireblade found out about the fights in the camp, and punished them all.

Meanwhile, however, Oltar Fireblade was troubled, and in no modd ot think of petty things like his hordebeasts fighting. His black eyes burned into those of his seer, Rutera. "I need answers, Rutera. You tell me we cannot move on. Why? I need answers, Rutera!!"

The vixen cast some herbs into the small fire which cast a spooky glow around the tent, her low chanting never stopping despite her master's anger. Rutera finally stopped and walked around to hand the corsair a glass of dark ale.

"Be calm, my master. I cannot see further, as I have told ye. My visions have told me to stop our quest for the redstone Abbey until 'tis safe again. I do not know when that time will come, but we must be patient so-"

She was cut off as Oltar grabbed the vixen by the throat, his voice a ferocious growl. "Patient!?! I have no patience left, vixen!!! All my life I have wanted this Abbey, and now when I am so close you tell me we can't take it!?!?!"

Rutera struggled against the fox, his grip strangling her into gurgles and choking wails. He dropped her, and she fell to the ground with a thud. The vixen stood quickly and limped to the other side of the fire. She spoke no more to her master, resuming the chants as the storm raged on outside. Seeing that conversation was no longer an option, the corsair captain groaned exaggeratedly and swept out of the tent into the sheeting rain. Rutera watched him go, nursing her throat



The storm that was drenching the camp of Oltar Fireblade was a misty drizzle on Redwall Abbey. The Abbeybeasts were confined indoors until the rain stopped. Dibbuns ran amok, complaning about not being able to go outside and play in the rain. The older beasts, however, were grateful for the rain, their chance to cease from outdoor chores and a chance to relax. For Bree Redleaf, however, this was a time for her favorite chore of all - storytelling. For such a young beast, she had a knack for storytelling, whether they be true or some tale spun up in her mind. Dibbuns who had managed to calm down sat in a semicircle around the squirrelmaid, their eager faces shining. Misera Badgermum, Abbot Ivan, and Oera were only a few of the older Abbeybeasts sitting behind the younger ones.

Bree began to weave a tale of a heroic tale of an otter on a quest to find a magic sword. Tav, Skipper of Otters, saw what was going on, and rushed to find Freesia. She'd had a rough time since first arriving, and he felt she needed a good story to cheer her up. He wa surprised to find her gorging away on a huge bowl of pudding under the gleeful eye of Friar Rikk, who was certainly pleased with the ottermaid's love for his dessert. The Friar saw Tav coming and laughed, beckoning him over.

"Got a lovely appetite, that'n does. Don't ye think so, Skip?"

At the notion the two were no longer alone, Freesia stopped eating and looked up to see the big otter looking at her, grinning. When Tav started laughing, she started to get embarrassed. Freesia glanced Friar Rikk. "Wh-what is it? Friar? What's he laughin' about?"

The plump little mouse started laughing too and he and Tav were leaning on each other, trying to catch their breath as the chortled away. Finally, Tav was able to speak. He tried to explain to the perplexed ottermaid in between laughs.

"Y'ye've got, ahaha, a little somethin', heeheehee, on your mouth miss, ahahahaha!" He fell into another batch of giggles.

Freesia quickly grabbed a nearby cloth and wiped away the beard of pudding around her mouth, her cheeks deep red. She stood, watching mouse and otter laughing. Freesia rolled her eyes at the silly beasts and walked off out into Great Hall. Tav happened to see her go, and slowly stood up, helping Friar Rikk. He wiped his eyes and looked at the beaming old Friar.

"Whoo, that was a good laugh, but I think we've offended her. I'll help you clean up and then go and-"

The good Friar cut him off and shook his head, still grinning. "No, no. Go an' accompany the miss. I'll stay an' clean up this 'ere mess. Go on, ye young rip!" Rikk playfully chased the otter off with his ladle. Tav brightened up even more and ran to catch up with Freesia. The Friar watched him go, smiling softly.

"Go and be with 'er Skip. Let her know ye love 'er."

Freesia heard the otter approaching behind her and stopped. She turned to see him running toward her. Tav saw her stop, and unable to stop himself, barreled straight into her, both of them toppling to the ground. Freesia stared, surprised, into Tav's brown eyes inches from her face. Tav immediately stood up, embarrassed, and helped the ottemaid up too.

"I'm sorry miss. I, uh, was goin' a little too fast I guess."

Freesia couldn't help but laugh at his awkward comment. "You think?"

Tav grinned, and took her paw. "C'mon. I want to show you somethin'."

The ottermaid, confused by trusting, followed the Skipper over to where a small crowd had gathered. Bree was deep into her story, and everybeast was mesmerized. Tav brought Freesia to a small table next to where the Abbot and Misera were sitting, and beckoned her to sit beside him.

"Bree's got a knack for storytellin'. I think you'll enjoy this 'un."

Freesia shrugged at sat next to the smiling otter. "I guess it couldn't hurt." However, within minutes, she too found herself enraptured by the squirrelmaid's tale of the otter named Riverfall who finds and magic sword and wins the love of the princess of a peaceful kingdom. It was a simple story, but everybeast was in love with the adventure and romance in beheld. When Bree was finished, she was met with a roar of applause and approval from her audience. She blushed and bowed, and walked down from the makeshift 'stage' that had been created.

As the crowd dispersed - some herding the Dibbuns off to wash up for dinner, Friar Rikk's assistants rushing off to the kitchens, and others going off to do their own duties - Tav and Freesia were met by Abbot Ivan and Misera Badgermum. The Abbot smiled approvingly at the Skipper.

"Well Skipper, I see you have been keeping our new guest company." He turned his attention to Freesia. "What did you think of our Bree's storytelling, eh?"

Freesia shook her head in awe. "It was amazing, Father Abbot. You must be proud of someone with such a gift."

Misera nodded. "Indeed we are, miss Freesia." Suddenly, a thought struck the bagder. She glanced at Ivan, her face worried.

"Have you seen any sign of Brecken today?"

The Abbot sighed and shook his grizzled head. "Indeed not, Misera. I'm becoming increasingly worried about the ottermaid every since-" He stopped and looked up at Freesia, as did Misera, and the maid's eyes widened. Misera spoke slowly.

"Ever since...the news of war was among us. Yes, that must be it."

Abbot Ivan nodded quickly. "Yes, most Abbeybeasts are bothered by the prospect of war. She is no different."

With that, the two old friends bid the otters goodbye and walked off. Once Freesia was out of earshot, the Abbot spoke again. "I am a fool, Misera. To think of speaking like that when Freesia was right there. Oh, I am a fool."

Misera patted her friend's shoulder with a huge paw. "Tis not your fault, Father Abbot. We do not know if that is even the reason. War could be why Brecken's so distressed. Nobeast knows but her. Hopefully, she will be better by the time supper comes around."

Ivan nodded. "I agree. Thank you, Misera, for your wise words."

Freesia and Tav watched them go. The maid was still stricken. She stared after them, her voice a whisper. "It was me they were talking about, wasn't it? I'm the reason your friend is so angry."

Tav watched her sympathetically, and squeezed her paw softly. "No, no, that can't be it. Why would Breck not like somebeast like yourself? She's got no reason."

The ottermaid broke away from his paw and shook her head. She needed to get away by herself for a little while. "I-I left something up in the infirmary." Freesia said, immediately remembering her sword. "I'll see you at supper."

Freesia made her way up the winding stairs, not looking back. Tav watched her go, his heart sinking. Was she right? Was Freesia really the reason why Brecken was acting so...strange? Skipper of Otter sighed and rubbed the back of his neck with a paw. There was definitely something he didn't know. Oh well. Something would hopefully be revealed by supper, if his first mate showed up anyway.


 * Brecken sat on a bed of the empty infirmary, admiring the curved sword that lay on her lap. A small lantern was the only light in the long room, casting soft shadows as the drizzling rain fell outside. The ottermaid ran a paw over the strange markings carved on one side of the blade. It looked like some type of language, but she couldn't tell. Brecken stroked the markings absentmindedly as she thought about the events over the past days. First the knowledge of possible war, then the arrival of her...the ottermaid's mind seethed at the thought of the Abbey's new guest.

There was nothing wrong with the maid they called Freesia herself. It was reactions to her that made Brecken's blood boil. Skipper was obviously smitten with her, yet after all these years had failed to notice Brecken as more than "mate" or "a mighty good fighter". She sighed at the thought of it, but was startled out of her thoughts by footsteps in the hall. There was nowhere to go, and on a strange impusle, Brecken dropped the sword with a loug clatter and dove under the bed.

Freesia entered the dimly lit room, an odd feeling that she was not alone. Dismissing it, the ottermaid searched around for her sword. She found it lying on the floor. ''That's odd. ''She thought. ''I'd left it on the bed and-oh well, at least it's here. ''

Brecken breathed a huge sigh of relief once the maid left. She felt completely idiotic though, hiding under the bed like a Dibbun. She eased herself out from underthe bed and walked into the hall. The ottermaid smelt the fresh, mouthwatering scent of dinner from Great Hall. It was time to eat, but how she would face Skipper with Freesia she had no idea. She groaned and shook her head wearily, heading toward the smell anyway.

Chapter Nine
"Skippa! Skippa! Me wanna get stawbewies!" The little hedgehog maid, Daisy Cellarhog, ran up to Tav, her chubby paws outstretched. Tav laughed and picked up the Dibbun, careful of her spikes.

"You can't go out there, ye little rogue! It's pourin' waterfalls outside!" Skipper set Daisy onto the ground gently, and she ran to her mother, Opal Cellarhog. The kindly hedgehog mother picked up her daughter, and Daisy started yelling again.

"Mama! Mama! Me wanna get stawbewies!"

Opal shook her head, laughing, and looked over at Tav. "Didn't you just hear Skipper? It's pouring outdoors! It is suppertime anyway. Come along, Daisy." Opal winked at Tav and walked to a table beside her husband, where she sat down the squirmish little hedgehog Dibbun.

Tav chuckled and glanced out of one of the windows of Great Hall. It was even darker now, and the rain was still coming down. He sighed and looked around Great Hall. It was the perfect scene of merriment. Young ones ran about, laughing and playing. His crew was joking around, and the others sat at the tables, chatting amiably with one another. Tav happened to glance up at the stairs when he saw a familiar sight. There was Brecken, making her way slowly down the steps. He grinned, happy to finally see her again

Brecken saw Skipper coming toward her, and she brightened up. He patted Brecken's shoulder, still grinning.

"Well, aren't you a sight for sore eyes Brecken! Thought I'd never see ye again."

Brecken smiled weakly and walked with Skipper back to the tables. "Uh, yeah. Nice to see ye too, Skip." Tav glanced at her worriedly.

"Somethin' wrong, Breck?"

The ottermaid shook her head, the flickering smile still there. "Nah, I'm fine. Just a bit sleepy is all."

Tav eyed her. There was something Brecken wasn't telling him, something she wasn't going to tell, at least not now. He gave in to his first mate's answer and walked with her to where the rest of his crew sat, faces bright and hungry. Riverleap saw them coming and grinned, her warm hazel eyes lit up.

"Now lookee here, mates! Ol' Breck's decided tae join us again!" Brecken couldn't help but smile at her companion's rustic otter speech. The crew welcomed her warmly, as if she'd been gone a lifetime. Within minutes the food was passed out - it was more of a subtle dinner, without the grand dishes - and Redwallers were chatting and eating happily. Instead of eating with Tav and the otter crew, Freesia was having an interesting time eating with a group of Dibbuns who were absolutely fascinated by the new ottermaid.

"Do yoo hava swowd, miz Fweesa?"

"Wot's that thingy on ya arm?"

"Can yoo tell Joee a stowie?"

"I wanna sit next ta miss Fweesia!"

"Noo, I wanna!"

"Me too!!"

Misera Badgermum rushed over to the overpowered ottermaid, scattering the enthusiastic Dibbuns left and right, scolding them in the process. "You all should be ashamed of yourselves! Attacking poor Freesia with all your silly questions and requests, what were you thinking? Get out of here, you little pests. Back to your parents, the lot of you!"

The badger sighed and sat down beside Freesia, watching the little rascals run about giggling. She turned to the ottermaid, who had a humorous grin on her face."I'm sorry for that, miss. You know how young beasts are. They always want more."

Misera looked weary, and Freesia put a paw on the badger's huge shoulder.

"Ain't your fault, marm. In fact, I liked the company of those little ones." The maid grinned. "But it's nice to get away from them ev'ry once in a while."

The Badgermum lightened up and stood, offering Freesia her paw. "Wise words, miss. Please, come join the Abbot and I for dinner."

Freesia accepted and was sat down next to Misera, where she had a full view of Great Hall. For the first time in a long time, she was actually enjoying herself. The whole atmosphere of the Abbey, the creatures there, the food, everything just made her feel genuinely happy. Her unexplainable loss of memory was no big deal right now. Now, Freesia could relax.

Supper was finished quickly. The rain had finally ceased, and the Redwallers, full as they were, immediately went outdoors into the crisp evening air to romp and play. Those who were too tired for any sort of playing cleaned tables and went up to the dormitories, ready for a good night's rest. However, Abbot Ivan was wide awake, and thinking. He stared up at the tapestry of Martin the Warrior, contemplating.

''A Council of Mossflower. Is this really that necessary?'' He thought. The Abbot tried to steer clear away from war whenever possible. Now that it was so close to their fronts, he wondered if there was any possible way to avoid it.

Perhaps Lord Southstar is mistaken. The horde could ust be traveling through our parts. It doesn't mean they are coming for us. Does it?

"It most likely does, Father Abbot." A voice came from behind him. He jumped and saw Kayra Redleaf walk around to stand in front of him. She had a grave look on her face.

Ivan slowed his pounding heart and sighed. "In all my years as an Abbot, I have faced small groups of vermin, looters trying to infiltrate the Abbey, but nothing like this. What if our Council is in vain? Do you suppose the Abbey could really fall?"

Kayra's green eyes widened. "Father Abbot! I'm surprised at you. Saying such things like that. You sound like some crazed old weasel, talking in such terms!"

"I-I am sorry, Kayra. I don't know what came over me. Maybe the whole aspect of war is making me paranoid." His old face turned hard and determined. "We need to start the Council. We need volunteers."

"I do not think volunteering is an option Ivan!" Both mouse and squirrel turned to see Misera running toward them, a piece of parchment in her paw. She knelt down beside the Abbot and handed it to him. "I found this lying on my bed in the dormitory. I asked every creature who was up there with me, but nobeast knows where or who it came from. I would not read it without consulting you first."

Abbot Ivan squinted trying to read the scraggly written words. He sighed and handed it to Kayra. "Your young eyes are better than mine. See what this old thing says, my friend."

Kayra took the paper and began to read the text as best she could.


 * "To start the Council, four must leave
 * On the night of winter's eve
 * Perilous journies along the way
 * Only three must return one day
 * A runaway who would like to stay
 * Yet only she knows the way
 * A newcomer, forgotten days of old
 * Know's how to winter the frosty cold
 * A burly leader, a swimmer gay
 * With his dagger, vermin will pay
 * A weaver of tales, a friend indeed
 * Her words of wisdom you shall heed
 * Only three must return one day
 * Perilous journies along the way
 * On the night of winter's eve
 * To start the Council, four must leave."

Abbot Ivan, Misera, and Kayra Redleaf stared at one another, their minds reeling with thoughts. The Abbot spoke first, slowly, almost cautiously.

"Well then. I suppose we have our travelers?"

Misera couldn't help but laugh at her Abbot's confusion. "I'm not sure Father Abbot. First, we must decipher what this means. But I suggest we go and round up those young ones who've made a break out into the grounds. Tis too dark for that, and if we are to get any answers, our minds must be fresh and ready."

Kayra nodded. "Wise words, my friend. I will get Skipper's crew to help gather them. You two should go and get some rest. Something tells me tomorrow will be a long day." "Bless you, Kayra. Have a good night's rest!" Abbot Ivan smiled gratefully at the squirrel, then he and the Badgermum made their way up the staircase of Great Hall and to the dormitories.

The hallway was dimly lit, but the two old friends paid no attention to the light. Misera was fumbling with the parchment, all thoughts of sleep had fled from her mind.

"It's interesting, Ivan. I do not agree at all with my own words. I think I could be up all night trying to decipher this. My mind just won't give me rest."

Father Abbot nodded. "It's true, my friend. Not everyday is a riddle like this found in Redwall. But we must try and sleep. Perhaps our dreams will tell us something."

Misera patted her friend's grizzled brown head as they reached their rooms. "Perhaps. Goodnight Father Abbot."

"Goodnight Misera."

The moonlight shone over the unconscious figure on the beach. The otter had lain there for days, the pain never ceasing, the dreams repeating. Now, however, he was waking up. His eyes opened sleepily, staring blankly up into the starry darkness. The storm had left behind a wonderous vista in the sky. The otter groaned and tried to sit up, but the shooting pain from his chest was too much. A pained scream escaped him, and he collapsed back onto the sand.

That fox's blade had pierced his skin, but not his heart. He would survive. He had to. For his captain and the crew. For the holt, he had to make it. He moaned again as the seething pain crept through his weakened body. The otter was helpless. The wound was far too deep for movement, but it was healing. At least it was healing. He felt for the dirk in his belt...it was still there. Good. When he was stronger, he would need it. He would find that corsair, by Dark Forest he would find that fox. The otter stared up at the moon, the painful sleepiness pulling him under again, and he thought of the fox's dark, evil eyes.

''By my blade, you will pay for the death of Holt Sunwave. You will... ''

Chapter Ten
Oltar Fireblade stood, seething, inside his tent. He stared blankly, the dark, fiery eyes blazing into nothing. The fox was furious. Couldn't go to the redstone castle, could he? Oltar howled his anger, causing any nearby vermin to jump in suprise. Why did Rutera always have to be right? The Fireblade straightened up, hoping to look a bit more presentable, and sauntered out of the tent, a growl on the tip of his teeth, the foul mood hanging over him like a curtain.

The storm had left an aftermath of muddy and heinous proportions. Hordebeasts everywhere were moaning and mumbling, trying to clean off their weapons or salvage the remains of food swept away by the rain. Just seeing this made the fox corsair more vexed than ever. He grabbed a rat closest to him, pulling the unfortunate creature face to face with his malicious features. Oltar hissed at him with clenched teeth.

"Why is my camp such a WRECK?" he screamed the last word. The rat, Jinqi, wilted under his leader's onslaught.

"I-I d-don't kn-kn-know.." Jinqi was barely able to whisper. That was a bad move. Not being able to provide a supportable answer, Olatr saw the rat of no use to him anymore. He held the doomed Jinqi close and drew the cutlass, slaying the rat in one quick slit of his throat. The fox threw Jinqi's twitching body on the soaked ground, scoffed, and walked into the camp, muttering to himself.

"Useless rat. These idiots are too stupid to serve me. I don't know how I put up with this nonsense."

Left and right, vermin saluted their leader as he passed by, showing off the best possible respect toward him. They knew the Fireblade was mad, and nobeast wanted to get on his bad side. Oltar strode through the field to a grove of pine trees on the far side of the camp, where the two captured mice were tied.

Boqved saw the corsair approach and instinctively shuffled in front of a sleeping Evy, ready to take whatever the fox would throw at him. He growled when Oltar approached, the round little mouse's voice surprisingly dark.

"I swear, if you touch her, or even look at her the wrong way, I will kill you with your own cutlass and hang your dead carcass for the crows and ravens!"

The Fireblade put up his paws in a gesture of peace, the velvety smoothness of his voice saturating. "Calm yourself, mouse. I am not going to harm you. However, if you do not answer these questions truthfully, I may have to go back on my word. Understood?"

Boqved's glare hardened. "Ask away, vermin."

Tulia Braefleet McScuttie sat, shivering, under a gigantic tree, her sleepy eyes probing the vast, wet plain. Some beast was following the haremaid, and she knew it very well. From the smells to the strange noises at night, Tulia knew she was not alone. Part of her wanted to keep going and forget about it, but most of her was scared. The afternoon was still cloudy and gloomy, reflecting fully on Tulia's mood. She scooted further into the hole inside the pine and pulled two rolls out of her knapsack, along with a canteen of water, and couldn't help but grin when she took a bite of a still fresh roll.

"Nothin' like some vittles tae calm your tummy." She mumbled in between bites.

"I say! Wise word's ol' gel, wot!"

Tulia screamed, dropping the rolls, and hit her head against the wood in her reaction to the voice outside. Before she could get her thoughts straight and investigate, a cheery face poked inside the hole. Tulia sighed and rubbed her head when she saw who it was. Out of all beasts.

"Finolleap Spurwood! What in blue blazes're you doin' here?" The haremaid glared at her friend. He held up his paws innocently, the grin still plastered on his face. He twirled his long ears and plopped down beside Tulia.

"Sent on a daring mission from the ol' Lordie, doncha know! To bring you back to the bally mountain, Toodles."

Tulia cringed at the sound of her nickname. She stared at Fin, thinking. "To bring me back, eh? Well, you can tell ol' Southstar and every other beast that I'm headin' to Redwall, and there ain't no way to stop me."

Fin became serious, a very unusual thing for him. "Tulia, there's vermin out yonder, a whole blinkin' horde o' them. If'n you don't come home, they could find ye. I'd ne'er be able tae live it down." Tulia glanced up at Fin, and down to the wet ground. He had a point, but if she didn't go to the Abbey, nobeast would.

"'M sorry Finny, but I can't." Tulia whispered, still staring at the chocolate covered dirt.

Oltar Fireblade was in a slightly better mood. Though the mouse had failed to tell him where the ottermaid had gone, his wife had paid for it dearly. After questioning the husband, he'd had a ferret named Volleg wake the wife, and had asked her the same questions. When neither of them could provide an answer, Oltar had had Volleg stab the wife in the stomach, to teach the male mouse a lesson.

The corsair grinned as he thought of the mouse's heartbroken expression as his wife lay dying. They got what they deserved. Failure to complete mycommands means death, Oltar thought savagely. Clearly, though, the husband knew where the Abbey of Redwall was, and once that stupid vixen said they could move on, that mouse would be in the front lines leading them. If he led them off track, his death would be painful. Nice and slow...

Tav and Freesia stood side by side, staring at Misera Badgermum, who had just told them the meaning of the strange riddle found the night before. Bree Redleaf stood next to the ottermaid, even more taken aback than they were. Abbot Ivan was sitting on his bed in the little, candlelit room where everyone had gathered. Night had come, and for some reason, Misera had decided until then to tell the creatures present of the dream she'd had the night before. Bree glanced around with wide eyes, her frantic glance resting on the huge badger.

"Misera? Why must I go? I love this old Abbey. I could never leave the safety and comfort inside these walls. Surely, there must be sombeast else ye be thinking of!"

Misera patted the young squirrelmaid's shoulder reassuringly, her voice a bit sad. "A weaver of tales, that is your nickname young miss. You're a friend to all, and amaze us with your wise words everyday. It must be you."

Freesia stood staring out the window into the dark purple-ish, blue-ish sky. The riddle had said she was one to go too. Could she? After all, she'd first come here to rescue her friends and hopefully gain her memory, and now she was being sent to some far away, fantasy mountain of badgers and hares? Was this all real?

Tav, however, was ectastic. He had been waiting patiently for word to head to Salamandastron. Now that the time had come, he was so excited, he could barely think. The Abbot saw the Skipper's eager face and placed a placating paw on the otter's shaking one. "Calm down, me boy. We still need to find the one who knows the way. Without her, this mission is as dead as a rat in a sinkhole, if you'll pardon my reference."

Tav smiled at the old mouse. He couldn't help but be averted away from death or violence, even when using a simile. "I know, Father Abbot. I know. But how do we know where to find her, or even who she is?"

Misera shook her head. "I'm not sure, but I thin-" She stopped and looked over at Bree, who was mumbling to herself on the Abbot's bed, deep in thought. Everybeast looked at her as well, and they all jumped when she yelled out in triumph.

"Aha!! Of course! Why didn't we think of that before?" Bree grabbed Freesia's paws, her soft eyes lit up and dancing.

Freesia laughed. "Think o' what, Miss Bree?"

The squirrelmaid whirled and took hold of the Abbot's paw as she answered. "'A runaway who would like to stay, yet only she knows the way.' Don't you get it?"

Ivan shook his greying head, a smile playing on his face.

"A runaway from Salamandastron, no doubt! She'll want to stay here, yet only she knows the way to her home!"

Misera steadied Bree. "Now, now. Just where did this elaborate idea come from, miss?"

The excited maid shrugged. "I'm not sure, Misera. It just came to me. Makes sense though, eh?"

Tav joined in Bree's excitement. He grabbed her small paws and twirled her around the room. "Great job, miss! Now the ol' mission can get underway!" Bree could say nothing for she was laughing too hard, but the Abbot stood, laughing himself, and tried to put on a more serious face.

"Now Tavish. You must listen to the riddle. It says, On the night of winter's eve, to start the Council, four must leave. We must follow the riddle's instructions, and this runaway has not even appeared to us yet! We must be patient."

Tav stopped to listen to the Abbot, sending Bree crashing into him. The two went down laughing. Freesia found herself in tears from giggling too hard. Even Misera, who saw this as a serious matter, was grinning hugely. She nudged Abbot Ivan and nodded to the three chortling young Abbeybeasts.

"Look at them, Ivan. More chipper than blue jays on a spring breeze, I would say. Let us leave this for the night. Tomorrow we will find more answers. Leave them to their happiness."

The Father Abbot smiled too and took his old friend's advice. "I agree, Misera." He waved his frail arms to get the laughing creatures' attentions and said, "Alright, alright. We'll leave it at this for the night. Now you all run along and get ready for bed, before you laugh yourselves to death."

For some reason, that made the three friends laugh even harder, and they walked out of the room, followed by Misera and Ivan. Freesia and Tav leaned on one another, supporting Bree between them, and the three stumbled and fell down the hall, waterfalls of tears running down their faces. The night had ended on a happy, comforting note. Little did any of the creatures at Redwall know that the last piece of the riddle was approaching faster than they thought.

Chapter Eleven
The sun was rising, fiery and brilliant, over the fringes of Mossflower Woods. Tulia Braefleet McScuttie squinted against the glare of the strengthening rays.