It was a crisp late summer's night, and all were sleeping. At Redwall Abbey, the Dibbuns snored softly in their beds, with one hedgehog babe hogging the breeze (no pun intended) coming in from the window. In the Gatehouse, the hedgehog and otter pair Morgan and Brin, Recorder and Gatekeeper, were up late for beasts of their age. Not to say they were very advanced in their seasons, but they certainly weren't wet behind the ears anymore.

"It's nice and cozy in here, ain't it, Brin?" Morgan asked.

"It sure is, matey. I ne'er, in all me born days, could 'ave ever wish fer a better place to be livin' in than Redwall."

"But don't you sometimes wish we could have kept on journeying, you know, adventuring and finding new lands, saving fair maidens, making new friends, singing travelling songs, don't you sometimes wish we hadn't stopped here, those many seasons ago, and made this Abbey our home?"

The otter smiled at his companion. "Naw, I don't think we could 'ave kept it up fer much longer. I mean, we wasn't spring geeses anymore."

Morgan laughed. "Don't you mean geese?"

"No, 'cos there was two o' us, an' that's plurer, an' two geese makes geeses. I may not 'ave been born in a Abbey, but I ain't no trout-fer-brains."

Morgan was going to comment on his friend's poor grammar, but kept them stored up in his mind.

000000000000000000

Just then, they heard a knock on their gates. It was more of a vicious pounding than knocking, but nonetheless, it startled the two. Brin was about to go to sleep when the knocking had happened. He jumped from a couch. Morgan was already wakened. "Who could that possibly be at this hour?" the hedgehog asked no one in particular.

Opening the doors leading out to the lawns, they had noticed that several other beasts had also been woken by the noise. Sister Bella, Brother Shem, Prudence the Badger Mother, Doc Hawthorn and his daughter Maria, the Abbey's resident hares, Ferdinand Tizzy, the Cellarhog, the golden, yet aging squirrel Einzel, and Abbot Aldric were there. Prudence held a lantern in her huge paw.

"We need to get those gates open, and fast." Brother Shem, the squirrel Beekeeper, clapped his paws together. "I'll scale the wall and see who it is. It sounds like one beast, but vermin can also be tricky." Not even taking the stairs, the limber young squirrel just climbed up the wall and onto the parapet.

"It's somebeast in a cloak." he whispered back down as he jumped, quite dangerously, back onto the lawns.

Opening the gates cautiously, the beast in a cloak unhooded himself, revealing an aging silver squirrel. Hawthorn, who was menacing a spear, pointed it down immediately.

Abbot Aldric motioned for the beast to come in. "Please, come in, it's cold out there. You never know what would happen out there."

The silver squirrel smiled, nodding at the group. "I thank you for your hospitality, but my visit is of a different matter. I have very important news to tell you. I would like every beast of authority in whatever meeting place you use here at Redwall."

Aldric was surprised. Nobeast had ever come here this late in the night during all of his days as Abbot, nor before he was Abbot. Of course, he hadn't grown up at Redwall, and was the only of his kind at Redwall. He was a Jerbilrat, originally named Kydoa, a very common name, which he shared with seventeen other male Jerbilrats, eight of whom were his brothers. So, when Abbess Willow had visited the area, she had bought Kydoa away from his father for a little copper trinket, which the female mouse said was "gold of the highest degree". Since, he had been taught Loamscript, Molescript, Riftguard Script, had no Jerbilrat accent, and was given spectacles for reading and overall seeing. He also had become Abbey Gardener.

"Shem, get together Mycroft, Foremole Wadd, Skipper Elma, and Queen Hazelwing Sparra. Tell them we have a very important meeting."

"I'll get them immediately." with that, the squirrel was off.

0000000000000000

In the Gatehouse, which had been thought of as the best meeting place where they could not disturb nor wake anyone, Abbot Aldric had set tea and small cucumber sandwiches, which had been not for them, but mainly for the visitor, who seemed to have traveled a long way and had not eaten in a long time.

Once everybeast was settled, Aldric was about to speak, when the visitor spoke first. Not wanting to sound rude, he kept his mouth shut.

"Thank you, thank you all. My name is Birchfoot, I come from Peace Island, and my master has sent me to bring this news of terrible terror, death, and destruction."

Prudence gulped. It was not like her to show fear, but when she did, it was no laughing matter.

"Well, carry on. You came here all this way to tell us, didn't you?" she growled, but it was a false growl that showed not aggression, but betrayed fear.

The silver squirrel blinked and continued. "Very well then, as you know, in the Western Sea, there has and for a long time will be corsairs. Of course, there have also been corsair lords and Searat Kings, but as of now there is somebeast called King Draco. He is claiming himself to be the Searat King, and has amassed a fleet consisting of forty-three ships or more."

Mycroft, a kestrel and friend of Aldric's, cleared his throat and spoke. "Does that mean you have only seen forty-three ships?"

"Indeed it does. Now, Draco is allying himself with one they call the Queen of Death, Queen Scelesta of Crohm. She herself is a Greatrat-searat hybrid. Daughter of Scrallgan Deathspear and Captain Navita, she is technically Firstblade and the inheritor of her mother and father's fleets. Now, with thirty and forty-three, we get seventy-three, which is the amount of ships combined in this alliance. Despite all other attempts to attack either, the other always comes in to aid their ally. That is why my master has come up with a plan to annihilate them both."

Doc Hawthorn stood up. "And, who, old bean, might this master be?"

"Lord Inesco. He used to be from a place where villainy seems to have originated: the Far East. He knows what they're like, and can predict their next move. He has a plan to save Redwall, Mossflower, and beyond. But if, and only if, you follow the instructions he gives you through me."

"Well, why doesn't he just give us a piece of parchment that states what we're supposed to do?" Aldric asked, seeing the sun rising in the East.

"Well, if he told you all of his master plan, then there is a slight chance of the plans being accidentally given out to the wrong beast. The less who know of Inesco's plans, the better."

"Do we'm be havin' any insteructions currintlay, maister?" Foremole asked.

"Well, there is just one, which is easy. Prepare. Make weapons, train beasts, forage the forests, stock up on food, that sort of thing. Oh, and also make sure every bird in the Abbey is fit and ready to fly. I have already given the news to Salamandastron, Fort Redwood, Bat Mountpit, and Castle Floret. That way, if anything goes wrong, send a bird or two to any one of those locations." the silver squirrel looked to Mycroft for a moment, as if trying to imply something humorous, but all emotional depth from this strange old beast seemed to disappear as he slowly walked over to the door.

0000000000

For Aldric and the others, it was a struggle to get everyone to understand how a visitor came into the Abbey in the middle of the night.

Friar Gato, who got up very early, had been the first to assume and figure out what was going on. The wildcat had prepared some hotcakes and honey for the guest and Abbeybeasts, as well as some tea and cool apple cider. Birchfoot guzzled down his cider and wolfed down half his hotcakes before three-fourths of the Abbeybeasts had gotten up.

Aldric sat down with some sliced apples, redcurrants, raspberries, and strawberries with some birch syrup tea next to his old friends Mycroft, his wife, Thira, Einzel, Avia, and Nack.

Nack, the blue jay, walked along the bench, leaving very tiny clawmarks on the wood. She then picked up an almond, broke it in her beak, and swallowed. "If'n ye be knowin' what's good fer ye, ye'd 'ave not let that old brushtail have so much food. 'E seems not t' pay much heed t' every other beast. It's just plain an' simply no respect f'r other beasts."

"He's never lived in an environment like Redwall, so he doesn't know how to behave here."

Thira spoke now. "Och, thah little varmint has bin tah a place lah' Redwall afore. If'n whah 'e says 'tis true, then 'e's been tah Castle Flahret an' Sahlamandastrohn. Those be places jus' lah' Redwall. 'E should 'ave learned bah nah." though the female kestrel spoke with a thick Highlands accent, it was clear what she was getting across.

Mycroft patted his mate gently on the shoulder. "That may be true, my dear, but he may not have stayed long at those places. He also has been spending most of his time lately on the road, walking, swimming, climbing, and bounding his way here. I say we send him off with some food and drink before he goes." he picked up his pretty little teacup and brought it to his beak. Despite being born with a Highland accent, he had since grown out of it, and had become very civilized, and Aldric often had very intelligent converstions with him. Mycroft could also write in Loamscript, having been taught so by Aldric. In fact, being able to write in Loamscript had become mandatory in Abbey school.

"Nonetheless," Avia spoke in her usual manner-of-factly tone. "He still hasn't explained to us who Lord Inesco is." the Tawny Owl spoke with doubt of their new visitor.

"I have had enough of this! Birchfoot is our guest, and we shall treat him as such, no matter his habits, background, or personality!" Aldric hissed quietly. Seeing as though the silver squirrel was a matter of pawsteps away, the Abbot didn't want to draw attention from him.

"On another note, our world definitely is changing. I mean, with this great war ahead, following a leader who's face only few have seen, and seeing as though all throughout Mossflower Country will have to work together, it certainly can't go back to the way it once was." Mycroft spoke now, getting ready to fly off with Thira back up into the Attic.

"In that you are right, my friend. We are entering an entirely new world, one of which the founders never could have seen coming." Aldric agreed.

The times are changing, he thought. For better or for worse, they are changing.