Summary: 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 yearns to venture into Mossflower Country. Dann is forced to venture back to a home he swore never to return and to evaluate the true meaning of good and evil. 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 a ferret named Thalweg.

Book Two

A History Better Forgotten

"I don't like discussin' the troubled pasts of others.

The past will be revealed at our own discretion."

Chapter Thirty-Seven

"Did you bring the longbow, matey?" Jekker asking turning with a pleasant smile towards the other hare who stepped into the glade with him.

"Yeah, Jekker. Here it is," said Oswego putting the longbow into Jekker's outstretched paw.

Jekker squinted into the blue sky. "And not a moment too soon."

"And I brought a blunt like you asked."

"The others are scouting for Regolith's troops. What is all this for again?" Oswego scratched his head with an ear.

The mountain hare grinned. "You'll see," was his enigmatic reply.

The mountain hare pulled the string back and tilted the bow back at the sky, aiming very carefully. He grunted as the full draw weight rested on his two fingers for a moment before letting the blunted arrow fly into the seemingly empty blue sky.

"Krah!" came an outraged cry from above them and then Oswego saw a black blob fall from the sky in a rapid descent towards them.

Jekker drew his saber and glanced over at the Salamandastron hare who was gaping at the dark shape swiftly winging towards them. Rolling his eyes, the mountain hare groused out, "Well hold yer lance at the ready, Major. The birdbag doesn't know we came here to parlay."

"Oh right, sorry," stuttered Oswego.

The raven fell upon them like a shroud. Oswego, in his fright, was swept off his feet, his lance tossed from his trembling paws.

"Pruuk! Pruuk! I've always wanted to taste hare meat!" the death bird threatened.

What then followed was a fierce contest between the two creatures still standing. The tempest storm of lightening fast paw and wing movements were echoed by hollow resounding of steel on the raven's beak.

Oswego closed his eyes in fear, unable to bear the slight for a moment longer. A few tense moments followed, but when the scuffling stopped, Oswego dared to open his eyes and saw both adversaries breathing heavily, Jekker standing tall with his claymore at the bird's breast.

Oswego grabbed his lance and went to stand by the other hare.

The raven peered at the claymore pointed at his heart and yelled, "Toc, Toc, Toc! Well you've got me, ya villains. Make it quick."

Jekker laughed and said, "We don't want ta kill you, mate. We just wanted to have a little chat. Fancy a brief banter with a couple o' hares? A little repartee?"

The raven was not put at ease. "What is it that you want, longears."

"The name's Jekker, Jekker Diamond."

The raven scratched his breast feathers with a wing. "Well alright then, Jekker. I see nothing wrong with a quick conversation. You can call me… Death."

Oswego paled.

Jekker put a paw under his chin and peered at the raven curiously. "Well I heard from a pair of crows that you prefer to go by Mortys."

"It does roll better off the beak. Well I heard from a ferret that you prefer not to go by Dudley Montmorency."

"Can you blame me?"

The raven seemed to shrug. "Not at all. It's a terrible name."

"What on earth were the mater and pater thinking?"

"Krah!" chuckled the raven.

Oswego whipped his head back and forth, not following the conversation at all.

"Well you seem like a nice enough, fella, all things considered," said the raven.

"I could say the same fer you," quipped Jekker.

The raven folded his wings behind his back. "Well what can I do for you, Dudley?"

Jekker tried not to let his annoyance show at being called his birth name. How on earth had this raven heard the story? "I'd like to make a proposition for you. I want you to tell your friend Regolith that he and I can help each other. We have similar aims."

"What makes you think that? How can you be so sure?"

"You'll see," was Jekker's enigmatic reply. "I want you to send a message to your master. My friend and I will be in this glade again at midnight. We hope to see you there."

"Midnight it is then," said the raven with a wink of his obsidian eye. Then with a rush of his powerful wings he was back into the sky and winging towards the pine marten's camp.

Oswego felt a chill down his spine at Jekker's smirk. He had a feeling that the other hare had done this sort of thing before.

CCC

"Toc-Toc-Toc!" Mortys called out as he landed in the middle of the lines on Regolith's troops.

The black fox eased his grip on his longbow and glared at his hated rival as the raven winked teasingly at him on his way to the pine marten tyrant. They had finally dug themselves out of the thrice accursed mountain pass and were making their way towards the foot of the mountainside. It was all pleasant countryside from here on: gently rolling hills and vast verdant woodlands as far as the eye could see. The beautiful countryside and the cooler weather – autumn was fast approaching – had a wonderfully beneficial impact on the troops morale.

A pair of stoats had even taken to singing a pleasant marching song, under the encouragement of Thalweg the ferret captain. He was in fine form this morning, the smile etched on his face was pleasant even in spite of his terrible facial scars. His paws were tossed back to support his head as he reclined perfectly at ease in the Lady Vermilion's palanquin. This afternoon the velum walls of her litter were opened wide, with ornate knots tied onto the wooden frame with a crimson scarf from her vast wardrobe. She was giggling helplessly at the lyrics the stoats had composed extemporaneously.

Gather 'round mates, I'll tell you a tale of a stoat

Who was wicked and cruel, the ole goat!

Clodd, the ole fool, lived in the mountains up north

Three o' 'is brothers got scoffed by eagles, an' 'e didn't wanna be fourth.

But the old clodd woke up one morn, hungry fer eagle eggs,

Fer all that was left 'o 'is scoff was the dregs,

So 'e decided to climb the ole mountain, peg leg an' all!

O climb you ole Clodd you,

O climb you ole fool

O climb you ole Clodd you

But be sure not to fall!

Old, Clodd gets to the nest an' wot does 'e see,

Nothing but eagle eggs, he must be 'ome free.

But look to the sky, Clodd, you're sure out o' luck

Cuz wingin' towards you ain't no eagle, but it's a duck!

So 'e climbs, t' get away, peg leg an' all!

O climb you ole Clodd you,

O climb you ole fool

O climb you ole Clodd you

But be sure not to fall!

Climb 'e did high and climb 'e did fast,

But, Clodd, yer good luck, it ain't gonna last.

To be sure to next sight will turn yer fur ta chalk!

In this distance! That must be a hawk!

So 'e climbs faster still, peg leg an' all!

O climb you ole Clodd you,

O climb you ole fool

O climb you ole Clodd you

But be sure not to fall!

Finally, poor Cldod reaches the mountain peek

And sees the very creature 'e was loathe to meet!

Though the eagle was happy in 'is heart oh so black

Fer tis nothin' wrong with a midmorning snack!

Regolith had glanced back at them occasionally, delighting in his mate's uninhibited laughter. A jolly grin was even making its way to his normally ruthless and unemotional face. The pine marten couldn't remember a time that he had been happier than this summer of conquest. His mate was in almost a perpetual state of good humor – a truly unusual event – and he himself seemed more at ease than he had in the longest time. Those nagging little voices in the back of his head had almost seemed to have quieted.

"You'll never be as happy as him."

"She doesn't love you. You're fool for ever thinking you could please her."

"Madness! Yer sanity is fleeting. Why else would you be hearing voices, Lord Regolith? Lord of Nothing! Yer not even lord of yer own mate!"

But he hadn't heard those voices for awhile now, and he hadn't missed them in the least. Not for a little while, at least not since Captain Thalweg had come up from the ranks.

It seemed as if a light poured out from inside the ferret, driving away his bad dreams and bad humor. The ferret had someone brought about good humor in everybeast: his mate, his troops, even himself. Although, Zigor still didn't like him. Then again, Zigor was infamous in his inability to be pleased by anything or anyone. Regolith smirked. It was this quality of the black fox that amused him so much and had gained his respect in the first place. Zigor couldn't be seduced or hoodwinked by anthing.

Zigor also had noticed the troops' merriment from where he was marching beside his Lord. The black fox glanced back at the ferret king as well. But he saw the ferret in a much different light. To him it seemed as if the Captain Thalweg was lying in the litter with the Lady Vermilion like a king among his subjects. Tt made the fox bristle with an uncomfortable emotion, something he wasn't accustomed to feeling, something like envy.

The ferret had always rubbed him the wrong way and he was going to figure out the ferret's secrets. Everyone always had secrets and the Captain Thalweg seemed to have more secrets than most creatures.

The black fox knew from the moment he met his fellow captain that there was something very wrong about the ferret. It was said that they eyes were windows to the soul, and although the black fox had not detected lies in the ferret's eyes, he had detected a certain disingenuous air about the ferret. Thalweg may not have lied to them about himself, but he hadn't revealed everything. Sometimes a creature's careful omissions are more telling than their lies.

Of course that swine Louse-something or other, wasn't to be trusted. The rat was disingenuous to the extreme. He may not have realized it, but Zigor had been watching him as carefully and earnestly as the rat had been watching Thalweg. Naturally they had come to similar conclusions; Zigor had even been impressed for a moment at how much the rat had noticed about the ferret captain. But that louse had an agenda of his own, Zigor knew this of course. The rat's primary motivation for discrediting Thalweg was because he coveted the other's position.

The rat could have been an ally for the fox in his information gathering, but Zigor had always preferred to work alone, not trusting in anyone's information other than his own. Besides, the other creatures in the horde had no more love for the rat than they did for Zigor himself, so the rat couldn't be any use to him really. Zigor had already noticed that the other horde members were accustomed to giving the louse a wide berth. They hadn't trusted him any farther than they could throw him.

And Zigor didn't want to put Thalweg on his guard. The ferret would be even more careful at what he said.

They feared Zigor liked the shadow of death that he was sometimes even reputed to be, but they respected him.

Mortys, whose name meant Death, walked up to Regolith finally and gave the pine marten a jaunty salute with his wing. "Krah! Beautiful day innit, milord?"

"Yes it is, Mortys," answered Regolith. "I feel like we're getting very close to Redwall Abbey. Wouldn't you say?"

"How perceptive you are, milord," chuckled the raven.

Regolith chuckled at the compliment.

With his huge obsidian eyes, the raven peered curiously at the black fox frowning next to them. The bird's black orbs lit up in amusement as he said, "Prruk-Prruk-Prruk! Might I have a private word with you, yer majesty. I have made a very interesting discovery, that you might like to know of."

Zigor bristled at being spoken of in such away and was about to bite back with a similar reply, when Regolith spoke before he could. "ZIgor wouldn't mind, I'm sure. Why don't you, I dunno," said the pine marten distractedly waving his paw at Zigor, "go in the back of the column and sniff out some mutiny or other."

"Sir!" said Zigor indignantly.

"Goodbye, Zigor," replied Regolith impatiently. "I'll see you in a few moments after I've spoken with Mortys."

The black fox slipped away after giving the raven one last glare. Regolith chuckled and turned to Mortys with his eyebrows raised.

"I just made a most interesting acquaintance, Milord," said the raven.

"Did you know," Regolith sighed impatiently. "What manner of creature was it, Mortys."

"A woodlander."

"Fascinating, I'm sure," quipped Regolith dryly.

"Fascinating indeed," countered the raven. "It's a beast we've learned about recently, but assumed was merely fiction."

"Really? A creature from one of Thalweg's stories then? I wonder who it could be. Not that mountain hare we heard about last night? What was the fellow's name?"

"The one and the same. Prruk! A mountain hare who goes by the name of Jekker Diamond."

"By the fur! I couldn't be the same creature!" gasped the pine marten.

"I believe it to be so. I tried to put him off guard by telling him I knew his birth name, and he seemed taken aback by that fact. Though not enough put off to counter that he knew my name as well."

The pine marten scratched his chin with a claw as he ruminated over the raven's words. "Vulpuz' aze! What on earth did the harebeast want?"

The raven beckoned him in closer with a wing and glanced around for prying eyes before going further. "Prruk! You won't believe me when I tell you, but he's bamboozled some ole fool from those longears with the fancy uniforms into mutiny or something or other. He didn't give me very many details, but he told me that," then the raven spoke in a different voice, a voice Regolith assumed to be that of the hare Jekker Diamond, "'I want you to tell your friend Regolith that he and I can help each other. We have similar aims.'"

Regolith couldn't help the grin that was spreading across his face. "This is quite a fascinating development, Mortys."

The raven chuckled. "I thought you'd be entertained by it, sire."

"I am. Immensely."

"I thought it would be equally entertaining if we had Captain Zigor go and speak to the hares tonight."

"You never do tire of teasing him do you, Mortys." Regolith smiled.

"Never," was the amused reply.

"This is just the sort of thing that would rub him the wrong way. If there's one thing he hates it's the idea of a mutiny," said Regolith with the air of a philosopher. "Then again he'll put the fear of Vulpuz into the hares and make them think twice about double crossing us. And his scorn for mutineers will make him sure to strike a deal with them that's beneficial to us."

"Excellent, can I tell him?" asked Mortys eagerly.

"I think you'd better not. I'll let him know about his latest duty to me. You're a wonderful fellow, Mortys, but you're sometimes a little lacking in…tact? delicacy? … when dealing with Zigor. Not that I mind, of course. It amuses me."

CCC

Everybeast was excited to be off the mountain, out of the swamps and into woodland country. Turnsol peered backwards again towards the end of the column where Jekker was chatting amicably with Oswego.

He turned to Peony marching beside him. "It doesn't feel right."

Peony raised an eyebrow as she looked at him. "Wot do you mean?"

"Jekker and Oswego being so chummy. I can feel it in my bones…they're up to something."

Peony burst out laughing. "I'm surprised at you, Turnsol. I'll grant you that Jekker is a bit strange and anything he does seems suspect at best. But I don't see anything sinister in the fact that Oswego has befriended him. It's actually quite nice, because Oswego doesn't seem to get along as well with the others in the patrol. I'm glad he has a friend."

"How does that saying go? Evil deeds attract other bad deeds."

"I haven't heard any sayings like that."

"That's beside the point. Just think about it, Peony."

Major Peony frowned.

CCC

There was barely even a sliver of a moon to light the way back to the glade for the two hares. Jekker walked with a purpose, accustomed to business that could only be conducted after dark. Oswego, on the other paw, stumbled through brambles and tripped over tree roots. He supposed that this was his way of running gauntlet. After all he was about to betray his patrol. He hesitated for a moment in fear and anticipation.

"Come on, matey, we're almost there."

Jekker's smile seemed to gleam in the darkness and his outstretched paw beckoned him. "The glade's just up ahead."

They walked a bit further until they reached the trees gave way to a little glade. The same glade that they had stood that afternoon and shot at the raven, Mortys.

"He's not here, maybe we should," Oswego whispered.

"Your not gonna anywhere, longears," whispered a silky voice behind his back, emphasized with the knife held dangerously at his back.

The creature let him go and in the blink of an eye was standing in front of them. Oswego could barely make out the outline of a fox in the darkness, because of the foxes dark fur.

"I'm here on behalf of Lord Regolith. Speak your piece, longears, and I'll determine if the pair of you are worth our time."

"Er…" stuttered Oswego. "We want to make a deal with your master."

The black fox bristled at the use of the word. With a whirling of his cloak, the fox distracted with hare for a moment. He only needed a moment to place his skinning knife at Oswego's throat. "I am no slave," he growled.

"Indeed you are not, my friend," said Oswego's companion. He put a heavy paw on the foxes' back and tugged away the foxes' arm from Oswego's neck. "Give the chap a moment to speak his piece."

The black fox glared at the other hare. "I'll deal with you later, Jekker Diamond. Or should I say, Dudley."

"I'd prefer if you didn't. Dudley's a terrible name. Go on, Ozzie. Tell the chap our proposal."

Oswego stuttered, "I….I think that we can…can help eachother. You see, we want...we want the same thing."

The black fox sneered at him. "And what's that?"

"The long patrol dead," whispered Jekker.

The black fox turned to him. "Do you make it a habit, betraying your kind?"

Oswego looked at Jekker perplexed. "What does he mean, mate."

"He's just being cruel," Jekker pronounced looking straight at the fox.

"No more than you are," the black fox corrected.

"We don't need the entire patrol to be dead, just a couple of them, the officers," Jekker further corrected. "That way you'll rob Redwall of some warrior leadership and at the same time secure my friend a promotion."

The black fox raised an eyebrow. "Promotion, eh?"

"Er…" Oswego stuttered. Fear had robbed him of speech.

Jekker rolled his eyes and went on, clearly seeing the Salamandastron hare would not be much help anymore. "Well lead them into some sort of trap for you than then yer creatures can go to it and deal with the hares as they see fit. But not all of the hares, that is. There's one I'd like you to keep alive. She's a female hare, petite and dark-furred. The Major, the leader of the Patrol."

Zigor looked at Jekker dumbfounded. "A maid is the leader of the patrol? Inconceivable! What do you want me to keep her alive for?"

"You can learn all you want from her and then I'll take her off yer hands. She's a pretty thing, she'll make a good wife if she's of the mind for it. A slave, if she's not," Jekker grinned.

"Yore a monster, Jekker Diamond," the black fox said with condemnation.

"Thank you," he quipped. "The second part of my payment will be the black diamond on the pine marten lady's paw."

"You want Vermilion's diamond."

"Yes."

"Starting a collection are you?" the black fox.

"Perhaps," quipped Jekker.

"We'd also like the slaves that escaped from Lord Regolith's Castle returned. Especially the squirrelmaid, before we ambush the others"

"I will see to that personally," said Jekker. He went on the explain their intentions, "Oswego and I will be splitting up the patrol tomorrow, he will take a small group westward towards their fire mountain for "reinforcements" and I will be with the remainder of the patrol heading towards Redwall. The Long Patrol Major will be in my group and all the escaped slaves. Oswego and I will see that campfires are lit for you to locate out positions."

"Very good," said the black fox. He turned and pointed to Oswego. "Your cost is not so heavy for us, hare. But you do not bring as much to the table as your friend. So your cost to us for our good behavior will be heavier than your companion's cost."

"What…what is it that you want then, vermin," Oswego tried to say bravely.

"You must kill all the creatures in your party. We will not help you with it. If not, we will not kill the officers in our companion's group."

Oswego looked troubled.

"This will not be a problem for you will it, longears?"

"N…no, sir," said Oswego quietly.

"Very good. Everything seems to be in order then," said the fox.

"I like knowing a creature's name before I make a deal with them. Especially because you seem to know my birth name," said Jekker holding out a paw.

The black fox looked at the hare's paw disgustedly. "Zigor."

Oswego looked over the two creatures shaking paws.

Sneak Peak of Chapter 38:

Through the shadows and the flickering light, he was able to make out the figure. It was the vixen. The light from the pipe she was smoking lit up her face in the darkness. The seer herself had stepped into the Great Hall and out the main door onto the Abbey grounds muttering, "The one sent before will betray, to preserve a familial bond, he poses like one of us but he's still obedient … "

…

"I've known for quite awhile now that it was you," the vixen whispered.

…

A creature behind the major cleared her throat. "Major Peony, I would like to request to join Lieutenant Oswego's group as well."