This story takes place between MATTIMEO and THE PEARLS OF LUTRA
I am Ikkit Claw, Master of the Eshin Celestial Realm and ruler of five hundred thousand subjects.
My empire stretches from horizon to horizon.
To the east of me is an island kingdom with a long and proud warrior heritage.
My army of wearets and Stormvermin are undefeatable,
and these warriors, these Samurai, have the gall to challenge me?
Let them come and they will soon learn to resist my will is a grave mistake.
THE OUTLANDER - A REDWALL FANFICTION STORY
Prologue
It was dusk and the bright orange sun had now started to turn blood red as it all but disappeared below the horizon bathing the stones of Redwall Abbey with the last remnants of sunlight. Rollo Bankvole, the abbey's recorder, was hard at work teaching his new apprentice how to organize the assorted jumble of dust covered books and manuscripts. The young mole Borrlo held up a lantern as Rollo busied himself with the various piles trying to sort them out in chronological order, just as his mentor Tim Churchmouse had shown him many seasons ago.
As he moved each document great swirls of dust danced in the air. With dust motes intruding up his nose, Burrlo arched forward with eyes shut tightly as his nasal passages went into spasm, "Aaaachoooo!" Rollo hardly looked up from his stack of books as he addressed the young mole. "You've got a cold coming?" asked Rollo.
Borrlo sniffed and wiped his snout with his heavy digging claws, "Nay zurr Rollyo, it'm be all this dust get'm roight up moi nose." Rollo stood up from the pile he was kneeling over and clapped the mole heartily on the back, "Ah, when you become abbey recorder you get used to it. Now where was I? Ah yes! Autumn of the Late Chestnut... Winter of Mourning... What's this doing here?" Rollo produced a thick black leather bound book. He opened the cover and, adjusting his spectacles, read the title page aloud. "Ahem, An observation of the language and culture of the island kingdom of Jima by Tim Churchmouse. Sourced by Sandokhan, based on his great grandfather's memoirs."
Rollo's voice trailed off to a light murmur as the name sparked memories in his mind. Burrlo placed the lantern on the study table as he attended to his friend whom had gone into a trance. "Zurr? Zurr Rollyo?"
"I wonder if it's here somewhere," the old recorder mused as he bussied himself with the various piles. "You can help me here Burrlo. Look through those stacks over by the window and look for anything dated from the Summer of the Orange Buttercup onwards." The mole simply returned a nod and set himself to his task. Burrlo was halfway through the first stack of papers and books before Rollo found the literature he was seeking. "Never mind, I've found them," he called.
The mole scratched his head puzzlingly, "Wot's ee Sandy koon Zurr?"
"Well, that in itself is a long story my apprentice. Tell you what, we'll go down to the kitchens and see if the cooks will allow us to have a few mushroom and onion pasties. Then I think we shall ask old Jube Stump for his best October Ale and I'll tell all."
The abbey itself was still bustling with some activity, Badgermum Auma was shooing the dibbuns off to their beds while others were finishing their supper in Cavern Hole. The coolness of the cellars was refreshing compared to the hot humid air of the abbey kitchens combined with the warmth of a midsummer's night. Jube Stump was sampling his latest batch of herbal tea when he spied the two visitors with a plate of mushroom and onion pasties dripping with vegetable gravy. "Evenin'," the cellarhog said. "What can I do ye for?"
"Ah Jube. A couple of tankards of October Ale please."
As Jube tendered to a huge wooden barrel he conversed with the recorder, "So what 'ave you two got there?" Rollo toyed with the thick book under his arm. "Well when I was sorting out my study today, look what I found." Jube took the book from his friend and read the title page with curiousity. He glanced up before handing the book to Burrlo and filling a tankard of ale for himself he sat down on his stool. "Sandokhan... now there's a name I 'aven't heard in many a season." Burrlo sipped his tankard of October ale before enquiring further. "You'm knowed 'im too?"
"Well young one, I did promise you a story," said Rollo as he pulled up a stool alongside the hedgehog. "Now pin back yur lugs, 'cause this story's a good un," said Jube as the recorder took up a narrative posture. "I suppose it all truly began with the Autumn of the Late Chestnut, for it was a very sad time for the abbey. Our warrior Matthias was dying from a long illness and made his son Mattimeo warrior of Redwall. After his father's death, Mattimeo became very withdrawn from those all around him; other abbeydwellers, his friends and even his own wife and son. A few season's later, from the silk lands of the far east, came a fox. Now foxes have a reputation around here for being very dishonest creatures. But Sandokhan was different, for he was a fox who was bound by a word seemingly forgotten by his kind; honour."