Kitar was looking around the abbey in awe, not watching where she was going, so she bumped into a young mousemaid. "I'm so sorry," Kitar apologized at once, helping the young mouse pick up the stuff that she had dropped when Kitar bumped into her. "I'm new here, and this place," Kitar found herself at a loss for words.

"I know," the mousemaid smiled as she took her stuff back from Kitar, "it's hard to get used to this place. I'm Meadow, what's your name?"

"I'm Kitar, I think," she said the last two words softly, but Meadow heard her.

"What do you mean?" the young mouse asked, looking at her new friend.

"I don't remember who I am, or where I come from. All I have is a locket and a note," she sighed. "The note was addressed to Kitar, it was in the locket, and the locket was around my neck. It said to go to Redwall, so I came here," she looked to her new friend, who looked back with eyes that were filled with respect and sorrow.

"You don't know who you are?" Meadow asked.

"No, I don't," Kitar sighed. "So," she said, trying to change the subject, "Could you show me around?"

"Sure!" Meadow said, leaping to her feet right away. She led Kitar through the abbey, pointing out several things, and the tour ended at the Great Hall.

"I know him," Kitar whispered, looking up at the tapestry that hung on the wall. Meadow looked at her friend, seeing the sunlight that passed through the stained glass windows reflect off Kitar's golden fur. Meadow now followed Kitar's gaze, looking up at the tapestry as well. Yes, the mouse it depicted had an aura about him, one of benevolent power. Meadow had felt as if she had known him for all her life when she came to the abbey five seasons before. He was a warrior mouse, his brown fur was covered by a green habit like those that the brothers and sisters of Redwall wore, but he leaned on a sword, something that no Redwaller would carry with ease, the Redwallers only took up arms in times of war, when their lives depended on it.

The Warrior's name was embroidered onto the tapestry by mice whose memories had faded from all but the recorder's writings. Evil beasts of all sorts were shown fleeing from the great warrior: wildcats, ferrets, stoats, polecats, and rats. Meadow's breath caught in her throat, realizing that her new friend was really a young rat. Suddenly, everything grew misty. The Warrior emerged from the mists, looking straight at Meadow. Once more her breath caught, but this time it was because no one at the abbey had ever had Martin himself speak to them. The great warrior spoke. "Kitar is not evil, Meadow, she is lost and confused. There will come a time of need where she will prove herself, but until then, she needs a friend, like I once did," Martin began to recite something.

"War will rise against Redwall, But the abbey will not fall. When the warlord wishes power, The Golden One will save Mossflower," Martin retreated into the mists, which followed suit soon after. Meadow found herself looking at the great tapestry of Martin the Warrior once more. She had no memory of what had happened.

"Meadow," Kitar was asking, "Who is that?" she pointed with a finger to the picture of Martin woven into the cloth above her.

"That," Meadow explained, "Is Martin the Warrior. He founded our order in ages long past. In a way, he is the symbol of our order, brave when he needed to be, but he was a kind soul, the records say. Not much is known about his past, but that he freed Mossflower from a family of insane wildcats," Meadow loved the story of Martin, the way he was so brave, but he could be the kindest mouse anyone ever knew.

"He looks like he was a wonderful mouse," Kitar said in awe, still gazing at the tapestry.

"I know," Meadow whispered, gazing at the Warrior as well, trying to figure out why she felt like she forgot something.