Yay! PH wrote! I have finished writing Revenge --uproarious cheers from all involved-- so please pester PH ceaselessly so's we can have the whole thing posted in a timely fashion.

Disclaimer: Redwall's not ours (drat) Annalee, Lacie, and Tragg belong to us (cheer!) Karina is a name we stole from a friend who's really quite nice, and Chrysan is ours. No stealing! Sky would bash your head in if you tried anyway --evil laugh--

Jeez Billios.. way to blame it all on me! anywho, enjoy, review to tell us what you think, good things, constructive things, you know the drill.

Annalee looked around in admiration of the red stoned abbey; everywhere she looked there was something green, or water, or flowers, or gentlebeasts playing. It was so different from the rough and rowdy community she was used to. While the company often stuck near to water, most of them preferred to be out in the open, away from trees, which unnerved the squirrel, who had a distinct fondness of the tall plants.

It was especially depressing to her to go through that desert where it was a rare find to see anything green, much less living. Though, she reminded herself, she was a soldier, and soldiers didn't complain. She lived and breathed for one purpose, to serve Lord Chillaxe and work for him until he was satisfied. She knew the others felt the same way, though she glared at Lacie for her sentimentality: getting attached to the enemy, a disgrace.

She looked over to where Lacie was practically hanging off the Mousemaid from breakfast, who Flibb said was Mother Abbess, who ran this place. Looking around she found Tragg and Peter trying to hold a normal enough conversation with the young otter, hard for them after living with vermin for so long.

Deciding to get a better look at the abbey grounds, they young maiden scurried up a tall tree and noted every detail possible about the fort walls and structures inside of it: finding weaknesses and strong points, places that would be good for breaking in, places where it would be impossible. She also took note of the type on beasts who lived there, how many were warrior material, and which were helpless.

Analyzing had become a strong point of hers, and she had good memory, making her vital to missions such as these for the horde.

Done with inspecting, she hopped down from the tree and appeared to be idly walking up and down corridors in the abbey, while she was, in fact, searching for weapons or something to aid them in a sudden war. Pleased at not finding much, she continued up some stairs, but as soon as she got to the top and turned too quickly to the right, she was run into by another squirrel about her size. Being sturdier and having more balance from training, Annalee managed to stay on her paws, while the other maiden fell backwards from the impact.

The squirrelmaid on the ground groaned as she arose from the hard floor, rubbing her tail, then looked up to see what the cause of her fall was. Annalee noted the confused expression on her face when she saw the unfamiliar face.

She watched as the maid's eyes went from her lithe toned arms and legs which were lined with scares from battles fought and training, and up to her face, which held a white leaf on her forehead, to her bright hazel eyes that she shared with her brother. Her bushy tail was relaxed, but ready to go at any moment. The fallen maid reached out her paw and introduced herself.

"Hi, m' name's Karina, sorry if this sounds rude, but, who are you? I've never seen you before?"

Annalee grinned slightly as she responded.

"I'm Annalee, my brother and I, along with two friends just got here this morning, so it's no surprise you don't recognize me."

She felt it weird to be talking to a commoner, someone who most likely didn't even know what a sword was, much less how to use it, but she stumbled on with the conversation, as she was given a more explained tour than the one already taken.

From the diary of Clarence Seymour, historian and recorder of Redwall Abbey in Mossflower country.

My my! Spring has most definitely sprung in our beloved Abbey! The Sparras are swooping about, chattering happily about good food-worms or something of that sort, much to the dibbuns' delight. They get an inordinate amount of pleasure from imitating those birds, ha ha!

For some, it is their first spring, and they are quickly learning the delicate art of daisy chain making and berry picking. Only Maple doesn't join in the joyful fray – she has stayed firmly by her mother's side ever since that fateful day almost six seasons past. She can only just remember her twin siblings, but their absence haunts her terribly. She expects a kidnapper around every corner, no matter how much we tell her the contrary.

Oh, dearie me; such morose subjects on such a glorious day! I shall dwell on little May later, for now I shall concentrate on describing what the occupants of Redwall Abbey are doing. Hm, oh! The ottermaid, Sister Cecelia and the squirreless, Sister Marigold are overlooking the berry picking with the dibbuns, the brave souls. That little rascal, Flibb, has eaten every last berry in his bucket. What a shade of purple his face and paws have become! Now he's off to the lake – to wash off his face and paws by order of Cecelia, no doubt.

He's not the only one eating berries, though; as soon as Cecelia and Marigold turn their backs, all of them sneak a few berries. Ahahahaha! Young Master Flibb has returned with a bucket full of water (face and paws still purple). It looks like snooty Karina is going to get what's coming to her. Her aim in life is to hassle Flibb, I think. Oh, good shot Flibb!

Ah! Run! You got Sister Cecelia too!

"Flibb!" Sister Cecelia yelped, pulling up her skirts and jumping backward as a bucketful of water splashed over a young squirrelmaid in front of her, the deluge clapping the Sister soundly in the face.

The little girl shrieked in surprise and the crafty otter bolted toward the lake, Sister Cecelia hot on his heels.

"Flibb, come here this instant!" she ordered, mopping her dripping face with her apron.

Flibb only laughed and ran faster, intending to dive into the lake, but the Sister caught him a moment before he did.

"Master Flibb," Sister Cecelia began sternly, "you should not have dumped water on Karina, you know that."

"She deserved it!" Flibb insisted shrilly, waving his paws for emphasis. "She told me that she'd tell – someone – I thought she was pretty and I said if she did she'd get it and she did tell her and now she won't even look at me!"

Sister Cecelia hid a smile, retaining her stern pose.

"All the same, you need to apologize."

"Yes ma'am," Flibb muttered darkly.

"And you can spend the rest of the afternoon helping Friar Beauregard prepare dinner."

Flibb's face fell and he was about to protest, but he caught himself mid breath and nodded slowly, then turned to go.

"Wait, Flibb," the Sister said.

Flibb looked gloomily over his shoulder.

"Why did Karina tell – her – that you though she was pretty? Did you do something to her?"

Flibb's face lit up.

"Maybe," he said evasively, then skipped off to the kitchens before Cecelia could call him back.

Sister Cecelia sighed, then laughed as she watched him pass by the others still picking berries. He slyly stuck out his tongue at the furious girl before breaking into a run.

"How's the daily miscreant?" Brother Clar asked, coming up behind Cecelia. " I watched the spectacle from

"The usual," Cecelia replied. "He is a rascal."

"Aye," Clar agreed.

They both stood in silence, appreciating the friendly sunlight as it soaked into their sleek otter fur. Then, Cecelia gasped.

"Oh! I forgot to make him apologize to Karina!" she exclaimed, then laughed again.

Mrs. Berc walked over to them then, May holding unobtrusively onto the worn fold of her mother's skirt.

"I see Flibb gave Karina what-for." she observed, nodding in the direction of the sopping wet squirrel who was being sponge dried by Sister Marigold.

"That he did," Clar chuckled. "How are you today, Mrs. Berc?"

"Very well, thank you," she replied cheerily. "And how is Redwall's reco—oh my!"

Three blurs whooshed past them at top speed, laughing uproariously and carrying a record-length daisy chain precariously between the three of them.

"Come baaaaaaack!" a pitiful little girl mouse shrieked, dashing after them as fast as she could.

She pumped her little legs furiously, but she was no match for the laughing squirrels who danced just ahead of her, waving the chain.

"Muvah Abbess!!"

Bryony was already running from the field where dibbuns were happily assembling daisy chains. She scooped the wailing mousemaid into her arms and tried to soothe her hiccuping cries.

"Brother Clarence, would you—"

"My pleasure," Clar said devilishly, rolling up the long, baggy sleeves of his habit.

With a twitch of his whiskers, the otter was racing across the green to catch up with the gamboling trio.

"That Clarence – he always won the races when we were dibbuns, you remember, Cecelia?" Mrs. Berc said fondly.

Cecelia laughed outright when Clar caught up with Redwall's newest mischief makers (newfound friends of Flibb). The looks on their faces were priceless; clearly they hadn't reckoned on being caught.

"Tragg, Annalee, and Peter," Cecelia said. "Those three will always be remembered in Redwall."

"Why?" Mrs. Berc asked curiously.

"They must have set the record for the most trouble caused since arriving at the Abbey yesterday! They tipped over Lacie's soup bowl at dinner," —Cecelia started ticking off the encounters on her paws— "started a war cry for more pudding at dessert, didn't go to sleep for three hours after bedtime, screamed bloody murder at bathtime, woke all the dibbuns up at sunrise to show them how pretty it was, raided the kitchens when they felt they were served an unsatisfactory breakfast, slipped around on the wet floors they were asked to mop as punishment and knocked over four other people, and now stole Lacie's daisy chain and broke it in four places."

"You've got your paws full, dear," Mrs. Berc said, stifling a laugh.

She patted Cecelia on the shoulder.

"Good luck."

Skyborne and Glaybo walked at a fast clip along the path, hoisting bags heavily laden with food Chrysan had sent with them.

"How much, you think, do these bags weigh?" Glaybo asked with a grunt as he struggled to keep the pack even.

"Dunno," Sky said vaguely, staring down at the path.

"Wonder what she packed," Glaybo mused. "She seemed awful short-tempered, didn't she?"

"Mm."

"Just said g'bye and g'd luck. You'd think she'd at least wave us off or something, but no. She went back inside before we'd taken ten steps. How do you like that?"

"Mmhmm."

Glaybo glanced over at his companion with some amusement.

"The fish are really speckled today too, don't you think?" Glaybo added conversationally.

"Ye—what?"

"Are you thinking about Chrysan?"

Skyborne considered denying it, then decided it wouldn't be worth the hassle.

"Yes," he admitted grudgingly. "I wish she would have come with us..."

Chrysan's soft laugh echoed in his memory, making him smile.

"Me too," Glaybo said, ignoring the look on his friend's face. "I'm going to miss her scoff."

"Thumping good cook," Skyborne agreed. And compassionate. And kind. And rather pretty. And –

"Oy, who's that?" Glaybo said suddenly, skipping a few steps closer to Glaybo as they heard loud footsteps nearing the path.

Skyborne reached for his scythe and dropped his pack, ready to meet whatever it was.

A large furry beast stepped onto the path and looked at him bemusedly.

"Are you really going to chop off the head of your only cook?"

Skyborne dropped the scythe with a clatter.

"You came," he said with disbelief.

"The house was too quiet," she quipped with a grin. "Come one now, pick up your pack. I say, I took a lot of time fitting everything in there and you just dropped it in the dirt. Fine appreciation of my work. Very good."

"Maybe it would've been better with just the two of us," Glaybo muttered, but he smiled anyway.

It was night when the moonlight shown down on four shadowy figures making their way stealthily across the abbey grounds to the wall, where a thin gate was located. Easily they opened it and made several signals to the bushes out on the other side.

Not a leaf was heard as a messenger was sent to retrieve the information that was written down on a scroll for the hordemaster, which included a map of the internal layout of the abbey made by the young squirrelmaid.

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