Prologue
An old mouse sat in an old armchair, gazing out over the Abbey grounds. Overhead, flocks of birds sang and swooped through the air. "Pleasant night, Douglas. What are you doing up here on the battlements?" Friar Douglas turned in his chair to face Ruby, grandottermaiden of Skipper. "Ah, Ruby, I was going to look for you, but it seems as though you have come to me." The old mouse smiled. "I've heard that you like stories." Ruby nodded. "I do Friar." "Well, you're in luck tonight. Recorder Grewal let me borrow his record book for this evening, and would you know it-the last warrior that was at Redwall was fed by me?" Ruby's face lit up. "Really?" Douglas chuckled and opened the great book, shifting though it's many pages. "Ah. Here it is…The Tale of Link." "…May I ask Friar, but who was Link, and why isn't he here?" Other beasts had joined Ruby by this point, including Skipper himself. The otter clamped a paw on his grandmaiden's shoulder. "He's not here because he had to go somewhere else. Far away. His country might even be across the sea to the west, past Salamandastron, even. As to who Link was, he was the same age as you, sixteen seasons, and I Swear, no one ever wielded the Sword of Martin like him." Douglas squinted at the some-what faded writing on the page before him. "…Hmm…whoever wrote this, the beast did not write very well…maybe you can make it out, Skip?" Skipper held out his grayed paw. "Let me see the book, Douglas." The book passed from paw to paw and Skipper looked at it, musing silently. "…I can read it…alright. Everybeast, gather around. I'll tell you about the Abbey's darkest days, and the young mouse who took up Martin's sword and set out to rid the land of a great evil…." As the otter began to read from the yellowed pages, it seemed as if the very air stopped to listen.
