A/N: This the is FINAL version of Chapter Three

Condemned to a self-imposed exile from Redwall Abbey, Dann Reguba wanders south where he discovers woodlanders held in slavery by wicked pine martens. However, the pine marten Regolith's cruel green eyes are not only focused on his Castle, he also yearns to venture into Mossflower Country. Dann is forced to venture back to a home he swore never to return and to embroil his friend Thalweg, a ferret, into a nail-biting cat and mouse game with the devil himself. Immerse yourself in Dann's fantastic adventures together with a group of Long Patrol Hares lead by Major Peony Laminar, an otter named Cinnabar Shellhound and the ferret Thalweg as they all discover the true meaning of duty and loyalty.

From the South

A Redwall Fanfiction

By Lady Eowyn of Ithilien

Book One

The Castle

"You shouldn't have come so far south. There's

nothing but suffering and slavery here now."

Chapter Three

Writings from the records of Recorder Rimrose Swifteye:

The whole abbey is aquiver with excitement. We are swiftly nearing the anniversary of my daughter Abbess Songbreeze's tenth year as Abbess. She is always loath to have celebrations in her honor, our modest Abbess, so we are organizing a surprise feast!

All of the chefs in the kitchen have been baking and cooking up a storm! Brother Jerome, our jolly cook, is in his element, ordering his helpers around to organize a grand feast. Song's good friend, Log-a-Log Dippler, as well as Chief Burble of the Rivervoles will be joining us in the festivities with their tribes. Our Badger Mother Cregga's former protégé, Lord Russano the Wise, is also visiting with a very small contingent of his Long Patrol, lead by Colonel Basil Nymium. It's suffice to say that all the hares are eagerly anticipating the upcoming feast. Although Brother Jerome bemoans the extra "famine faced gobs" of the hares that he will have to feed, secretly you can tell he is flattered by their near worship of his culinary skills.

My daughter is visiting our friends Hawthorne and Cypress who live in Mossflower Glade; they will also be coming to the great feast. We didn't know what to make of them, a pine marten and a vixen, at first when they arrived in Redwall and in the ensuing tension several seasons later when they decided to build their homes outside the Abbey. However, when we got to know them better, we realized their kind hearts. Our Abbey Warrior himself suggested a site for their little paradise in a pleasant copse of trees a little more than a day's march from Redwall.

They have settled down to a peaceful and plentiful life in the shadow of our abbey, Hawthorne, Cypress, and the vixen's twin sons. We are very fond them, our Badgermum Cregga especially. She gets along with the old vixen Cypress surprisingly well.

The squirrel Sinon is accompanying the Abbess to Mossflower Glade to visit with our two friends. We've taken this event as the opportunity for us to prepare the feast for the Abbess. Though there are fewer hostile vermin bands lately, Sinon is bringing the sword of Martin the Warrior with him just in case. To our knowledge, it is the first time a creature who is not the Warrior of Redwall has carried the blade. However, seeing him hold it with such reverence puts no doubt in our minds that he will treat it with the utmost care and respect.

Indeed, it is the first time is had been carried, since Dann Reguba relinquished it. It's now almost four seasons to the day he left us. I fear that we may never know the true reason for his departure. Rusval was very saddened to see him go. He moped around for a full season before Cregga spoke some sense to him. She tells anyone who speaks ill of our champion that many warriors are wanders by nature and fate deals them strange destinies. She is sure that if he is ever needed, Martin will guide him home to our beloved abbey.

My daughter is also very sad that Dann left, though she tries not to let any beast see. I can tell by the look in her eyes whenever she sees the sword hanging above the tapestry. They were such good friends who went on such grand adventures together.

Well I must be going to wash this ink from my paws before I go to help Brother Jerome in the kitchens! Please visit us at Redwall anytime! Any travelers on the North Path are always welcome to cool their heels with us before continuing their journeys. And of course "to scoff as many mouthwaterin' munchies they can bally well get their paws on," as says Colonel Basil Nymium.

Rimrose pushed her chair back and stretched her arms over her head, the sleeves of her summer habit falling down past her elbows. She sneezed again and rubbed a paw over her eyes. The afternoon light had not yet penetrated the small high windows of the gatehouse. It was still content to light the upper shelves of the bookcases, teasing the tomes and scrolls in a soft golden light.

She jumped slightly when there was a knock on the door. "Come in," she called.

Her husband poked his head around the door. Unlike his wife, he had never taken to donning the Redwall habit. He preferred to wear a green and brown traveling tunic as he had in his younger years. He sidled in and gave her a quick peck on the cheek and looked at her last entry. "Goin' to the kitchens, eh? Do ya mind if a handsome young warrior accompanies you, my fair young maiden?"

Rimrose swatted at her husband playfully. "You know as well as I do that neither of us are 'young' anymore. You can come with me to the kitchens if you promise not to eat too much food from under poor Jerome's nose. The beast must be at 'is wits end with all those ravenous wolves on his threshold."

"I thought hares were bad enough, mates. Now poor Jerome needs to fight off wolves," said a voice from behind them. Janglur turned and winked at his friend Skipper. The otter was leaning casually in the threshold. His red tunic nearly dry from his dip in the pond.

"Aye," said Janglur, resting his paws on his belt buckle. "Come with us to help fight 'em off. Mayhap Brother Jerome will reward us with some vittles."

Skipper's dark eyes lit up dreamily. "Maybe 'e'll even make a great ole' pot of hotroot soup for a brave otter, matey."

"Hello, Rimrose, Janglur, Skipper," said a little white mouse as she skipped by with a few large tomes held against her chest.

"Doin' some more studyin' I see, Sister Bianca," said Janglur as the little Sister ran by.

She halted and jumped from one footpaw to the other in excitement, almost tripping on her light green habit. "Yes, Mother Cregga gave me this book she found in her room. She had it supporting the uneven leg of a desk, can you believe it! What a waste of a beautiful book! It describes Abbot Arven's Battle at the Ridge of a Thousand. I can't wait to finish it. Isn't our history fascinating? Arven seems like such an interesting fellow. I wish I was alive when he was Abbot all those years ago. Have you ever heard of a beast being both Abbey Warrior and Abbot? Amazing!" And even more amazing was the fact that she'd said all that in one breath- at least, it caught Skipper's attention

"Yer lung capacity's amazing, marm. Have you ever thought 'bout bein' one of my divers?" asked Skipper.

Bianca blushed and shook him away with an ink stained paw.

"Nothin' more 'bout Martin the Warrior, eh?" asked Janglur. It was well known by all that Bianca had a fascination with the Abbey founder, possibly bordering on an unhealthy obsession.

The little sister pouted. "Unfortunately not, I haven't been able to find any more books. I want to have a peek in the lower attics. I've been meaning to ask the Abbess for permission. Perhaps she or Sinon could help me up there and root around a bit." She paused wide-eyed for a moment. "Mister Swifteye, you're a squirrel as well! Would you like to help me?"

Janglur was about to promise the sky to the mousemaid, but Rimrose proclaimed sadly, "Alas, Bianca. We aren't as young as we used to be and I'm afraid Janglur might not be able to squeeze through some of those tight places as well as he might have in his earlier seasons." She patted her husband's stomach with a paw. "Well we must be off," Rimrose said pulling her husband past Skipper and out the door with her.

The mouse waved goodbye with one arm, the other paw holding the books tight to her chest.

Skipper shook his head. "Wot a funny gel, eh Janglur."

Janglur looked down at his stomach in dismay. "Yer right of course."

"Shall we head off those hares?" said Rimrose. She picked up her skirts and harried off, calling behind her. "I'll race you."

"Sink my rudder and call me a frog, your wife sure is quick, mate. Let's catch 'er up and make her regret callin' a freebooter like you chubby, eh?"

"Sounds good to me, Skip. Though she might have a point."

The otter and the squirrel raced across the grounds. Some of the Long Patrol hares that were helping Skipper's otters set up tables for the feast among the trees in the orchard paused to watch the otter chieftain and his squirrel friend try to catch Rimrose.

"I say, they have the right idea, wot," said one of the hares starting to drift towards the kitchen.

"Not yet, mate," said a big otter putting a paw on the hare's shoulder and effectively tripping with his rudder another hare racing to the kitchen. "Yer not finished with the tables."

The unfortunate hare, brushing grass stains off his formal red jacket, muttered to himself, "Steady on, you pirate. S'nothin' wrong with a chap stealin' a bit o' sustenance."