Disclaimer: I don't own the world of Redwall. The island of Traug, Traug the ferret, Upago, and other characters not found in the novels are my own creation. The Redwall world is the intellectual property of Brian Jacques, writer of books in the Redwall series. Characters/places including (but not limited to), the Long Patrol, Badger Lord(s), Salamandastron, Marshank, Redwall, and Martin the Warrior are said author's property.

Chapter One: Clouded Horizons

The moon rose over the horizon, shedding a dim light onto the island of Traug. Long abandoned and undiscovered in the western seas. Many had visited its sister, to the far east, but only one had stumbled upon this desolate rock. That ferret had never come back to his island again, by fate or fault. The seas pounded upon the sheer cliffs that were the island's shores. Sand was whipped into the foaming depths, victims of the never ending winds.

The sparse trees swayed in the wind, welcoming the moon. But something was troubling the island. The rocks could feel it. So could the bushes and the dried grasses. Something was coming; and that something, could not be good.

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Upago gazed out at the waves, hoping to catch a glimpse of land. He and his crew of seafaring mice had been on the Whiplash for too long. Repairs needed to be made, and supplies were running low. Morale had suffered after they had sighted Marshank The fortress of slavery was still under construction, but they all knew it was just as well protected now as it would be when it was finished.

And who better to finish the warlord's palace than enslaved creatures of all kinds. Most regrettably, Martin, who was taken from the Whiplash's own tribe. He had been a kind but strong mouse, especially for one abandoned by his father so early in life. The poor thing would have been a great leader, had he been left at the caves. But who knew if the mouse was still living? Upago shook such thoughts from his mind. Of course young Martin was alive! He hadn't been the kind to give up. No, thought the mouse, wiping spray from his eyes, he would not be surprised if Martin was going to lead a rebellion.

Upago sighed. Now if only he could get the other members of his crew to think like that. Spirits had been low these last few weeks, and the recent storms did little to lift them. Leag, Bruqu, Dale, and even Trevor considered the Whiplash lost. But they were a hardy bunch of mice; loyal to the death, all of them. Though it seemed they would be free from earthly bonds soon, the mice worked as hard as ever. Maybe hope drove them. Or the certainty of death. It didn't matter. They would make it out alive; this Upago promised himself.

Leag wrapped himself in a blanket, covering as much of his black fur as possible against the cold. On his way out of the warm cabin, the mouse took an extra for Upago. "You could probably use something to warm you up. Don't want you dying on the job, eh?" he joked.

The gray-furred mouse turned around. "Of course not. Then who'd cook your next meal?"

They laughed at this, and Leag tossed the old creature a blanket. "Here. This should help against the spray at least. Seen any land yet?" he asked hopefully.

"Not yet, friend. The clouds don't help, either," Upago answered. "But I've had my eye on one cloud in particular. See it over by the horizon?"

Leag nodded. "Awful close to the ground for a cloud though, eh?"

He sighed. "Exactly my thoughts. It has been getting bigger, but moving from side to side. I want to call it land, but everything tells me it isn't!"

"Well, I'll go adjust the tiller," the black mouse said, turning to leave "Don't know which way land is, so what harm can it do?"