I honestly don't know what's happened to my writing in the past few months. A one week break turned into three months. It happens, I guess. Ninety days surely feels like a long time. I'll post a quick summery of the story at the end of this chapter for those wanting to 'catch up'. Perhaps my returning readers... if I have any... should read that first. Just scroll to the end.

888

Martin left early the next morning, his energy filled to a cauldron's bubbling brim, not having slept a wink after the previous nights quarrel with Mattimeo. He had too much to do, too much to think about before he ever slept, so a morning's walk would suffice.

The rain had begun to wane, causing a black puffy overcast and glossy grass. The storm had been benign, giving the little ones some puddles to play with when they woke shortly.

Martin paced himself on the cool granite cement, collecting his thoughts. By now he had calmed down from the argument earlier.

It was the tension he felt here, confined between the four red sandstone walls. So many memories, so many friends of the past who had been dead to him just a few days before. Choice, fate... whatever had governed him to this point, it didn't matter.

His gaze strayed over to the great abbey entrance. Something pervaded in the back of his mind. There was someone he had to see, some beast he had to visit in Mossflower, so the tension would dissapate. Absently, he wandered over to the gate until it stood over him like a great colossus, and all he had to do was give it little push and he'd be a step closer.

"Leaving so soon?"

Martin jumped, head spinning around to face Matthias, who sported a kind grin. Martin stuttered, searching for some sort of rebuttal. "I-I just wanted to go visit some beast in Mossflower. Uh... um what are you doing up so early?"

"I'm always up this early... to check on Cornflower." The abbot walked up to Martin and procured an emerald habit from behind him. "And I had the feeling you'd be leaving today. Don't want you to catch a cold or anything in this dreadful weather, you know. It might rain later." Matthias pressed the habit into Martin's paws, who in turn gratefully put it on. Though, to his dismay, he found it didn't quite fit all the way, its bottom fringe ending at his calves.

"It doesn't quite fit."

Matthias chuckled. "That's because it's your old one, the one you left in the mud the last time you left. Seems like you've grown a bit too much. I'll ask Cornflower to make a bigger one... for when you return. When you do get back though, Cornflower's been wanting to um... see you." Matthias's jovial attitude suddenly seemed to damped.

Martin nodded. "Well it's good that she's moving around. I'll stop by when I come back."

"Yes..." Matthias's attention seemed to stray and he turned around, waving the back of his paw in a silent farewell.

Martin pushed open the gate, and headed down the south path, and then curtly east, toward the heart of Mossflower.

888

He had walked for an hour until he finally came to the 'landmark' as Lance had put it, a big stalagmite crab, protruding from the earth like a giant claw. All he had to do was go in the direction the claw was pointing, and he'd arrive at his destination. He did this, galloping down a grassy hill, and running against his habit which followed the uphill wind.

The dark clouds had retreated beyond the horizon by now, and the sun had become the sky's overseer, warming Martin's fur. In the distance he saw a group of trees, clustered together curiously. To any vagabond, it would appear, at least on the outside, like an ordinary bunch of trees situated only by chance. But Martin knew what it really was.

He approached the cluster's anterior, a little grove, at first sight impassible due to the thick trunks that stood in his way, unwavering. A strange lifelessness drew about this front row of trees. Their bark appeared darker than normal, and it's leaves still trickles of water from last night's deluge.

He whistled. A long, drawn out whistle.

Then, suddenly, the feeling of being watched by dozens of little crimson eyes came over him life a wave, his spine tingling a bit. He pushed aside his instincts, just in time for the hidden voice from behind the obscure foliage to pipe up. It was a strong voice, but with a rather youthful tint. Martin guessed that it emanated from a squirrel, as it had come from above. "Who goes there, friend or Foe? What is your business?"

"I am Martin of Redwall, a friend. I have come to visit a friend of mine. Her name is Ezmeralda."

For a moment, nothing stirred. The feeling of being watched by many still hung over him. He could feel their presence, each one laden with spear. There were six, each hidden at different lengths at the apex of the dead wood. His instinct held strong as he tried his hardest to thrust it aside, since for any other time than this, such a scenario would spell death for him.

The instinct, usually his friend, screamed at him to run. A shadowy vision of them danced about his mind. Red eyes. Bronze fur. Tattoos of skulls, swords, spears, and conquered foes akin. Iron tipped spears dipped lightly in poison at daybreak, meant to last throughout the day. He bit his lip, staring straight ahead, trying to appear as stolid as ever despite his acute senses.

Then without warning, the tree trunks began to lift into the air vertically and with adherence, as if they were all attached. Martin took a step closer as they continued to climb. Their lifelessness then rang true when he saw the underside of the trunks. Where the synthetic foliage ended, a layer of steel began. His eyes followed the wonder until it reached it's full height above his head, the front being the dead trunks, and all it's interior composed of metal. Thick wires hung from the trees, bathed in dense foliage, and tightened from the immense weight of the gate. The straw like foliage continued down, until it hung in front of him, obscuring his vision of the inside. Martin whistled again, though this time softly. They had gone through many new counter measures since he had last left.

The voice piped up again, this time a bit more sternly. "Approach."

And, a bit wearily, Martin took toward the overhanging vegetation, still aware of the eyes that watched him.

Well, I'm cutting this chapter short. Why you ask? It's an attempt to get my readers back. This will be my shortest chapter yet, as I've managed to climb to 3-4k words previously a few times in the story. It will be part 1 of 2. It was originally meant to be a whole chapter. (I have a notebook outlining a good portion of the story, possible endings, and like the next seven chapters... something I did over the hurricane I believe... a few months back. )

Anyway, spelling errors thrust aside, here's the very vague story outline:

It is about Martin, an outlaw to Redwall. His nickname is Martin the Incubus, as it was rumored around Mossflower, and surrounding areas that he killed neigh forty or so beasts 'at night', hence Incubus. He is being hunted fervently by 'bounty hunters' something I've sort of capitalized on with Orion, another character of vermin species who wants to see his people prosperous and whatnot.

Orion captures Martin, and then later Icarus, a flying squirrel from Redwall. Icarus was a charater I had wanted to capitalize on more in the first chapters, but since they (Martin and Icarus) are saved from the grip of Orion, he hasn't really been or done too many things. Hopefully that'll soon changed.

Anyway, they're saved, but Martin is hated and confined to the Cellars at first, where his grandfather Matthias, now the Abbot of Redwall, comes to 'help him escape'. It is advocated that the 'mood' of the Redwallers had since changed, as Matthias, "fears the worst from them." E.G. they might kill Martin for his deeds (something they would have let Slagar or Sela slide for in Matthias's youth.

Later Martin is brought up to the Belltower, away from the Abbot's help (showing distrust in their Abbot). Martin advocates sleep, but when he sees an Ermine within Redwall(Orion has sense made plans to go into Redwall, and take by force the reward put on Martin's head), his plans immediately change and he rushes to their aid. He fights the Ermine

After the Ermine's scream rents the air, Orion's plans come to an immediate halt. He wishes to proceed further with the plans without hurting anyone. His group suddenly turns on him, and knocks him unconscious leaving his fate up to the Redwallers.

They try to escape, but are countered by a now aware Redwall resistance, at the contingent's head lies and older Mattimeo, equipped in the armor of Martin the Warrior. They fight, and the new Martin intervenes, saving Mattimeo's life, and fighting back resistance all under the influence of Bloodwrath.

For this, Martin is 'forgiven' and realization comes to place that Martin's brother might be the killer instead of him. Though these ideas conflict with Martin himself as he claims he had been awake the night of the murders, but cannot remember it well at all. Mattimeo remembers an incident that happened between Lance (Martin's brother) and Martin, where Lance is scarred from the furious claw marks from Martin.... something he doesn't remember(and something I've yet to conclude). Martin fights with himself, knowing that he has the bloodwrath, and that he just might be the killer after all. After Mattimeo and Martin fight (Mattimeo going 'for' Martin, and Martin questioning him), Martin goes out for a stroll.. and this is where the chapter resumes.