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-Eight
The wall sconces flickered in the darkness of Redwall's Great Hall as well as a tall candle sitting at the head table in a metal basin. This was called the Candle of the Hours. It had several nails slipped into it to tell the passing of the hours. The nail, which read midnight, fell down with a clatter onto the metal basin as the burning wax no longer supported it.
Midnight, the witching hour.
This was the only sound to accompany the soft tread of footsteps into the great hall. The creature passed by the tapestry of Martin the Warrior before stopping in front of the head table. The creature took a small candle in its holder and used the flame from the Candle of the Hours to light his own little candle.
Then he slid silent as a wraith in his black cloak over to the beautiful antic secretary desk. Drawing an assassin's knife from within his dark cloak, the creature leaned closely with his candle and tried to pick the lock of the thing.
His knife scratched the beautiful antique beyond repair, but eventually the locking mechanism clicked and the desk flap fell open with a dusty crash.
Looking up in worry to see that the noise had not disturbed any of the Abbey Dwellers, the creature went back to his business.
"A cure for madness? Could it be possible?" he whispered excitedly to himself. "This could be the key. Maybe I could convince Regolith to change his mind."
He held his candle close to the desk and tried to make out the beautiful script. A smudge of wax dripped onto the desk as he leaned closer to the words inlaid into the wood. He hardly dared to breathe in his excitement. There was a poem written along the back of the desk!
THE creation of this Abbey will, Oh what a brave deed,
Hopefully ensure that no creature should suffer as I did.
You wish to learn a REMEDY for my disease?
Any beast should have an ear, pay heed to my words.
FOR too many seasons I was lost in the darkness of my own
MADNESS, but finally I was brought to the blinding light of truth.
The answer IS so simple, it was almost lost in my stubbornness.
For I learned that THE cure is not something that can be bought
or stolen, indeed cannot the same be said for LOVE?
And OF it's nature, it is not a thing to be achieved by ONE'S own power.
The Remedy for Madness is the Love of one's FRIENDS.
He finished reading the words with a sob. The love of one's friends? For yet another time the Redwallers, even unintentionally, had brought the key to his chains to his paws, only to snatch then away with some excuse or other.
They were all the same. Their obsession with love and forgiveness would be their undoing.
But wait! Pawsteps! Pawsteps on the stairs.
After being startled near out of his wits, the creature blew out the candle and hardly dared to breathe as he watched the stairway from behind the Abbess' Germaine's large writing desk.
After a moment, another creature glided down the steps. 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 … " to herself.
She closed the front door slightly, but it swung open again with a creek. Stepping out from behind the desk, he went to the door and slipped through the open door and went down the promenade. The vixen, standing in the grass of the front yard looked back at the door swinging open.
With faltering steps and uneasy glances, she made her way to the door to the Great Hall and closed it tightly. She glanced around again. The fur on the nape of her neck was standing up. As if some beast was watching her.
But all that she could see was darkness. Utter consuming darkness.
She stepped off the promenade and went to the right. Her strides were slow as she meandered towards one of the small rows of plants that the sisters and brothers had planted in preparation for the fall harvest. Puffing on her pipe, she watched the smoke swirl upwards in patterns only a seer could understand.
Walking through the piles of dirt, tossed up by the plow, she looked behind her again. The prickling of the fur on her neck had stopped. She no longer felt as if some creature was following her.
Shaking her head at her perhaps overactive imagination, she continued at a slower pace towards the small wicker gate on the Northern part of the walls. She had barely reached the small wicker gate when a figure stepped from the shadows of the wallstairs and into her path.
"I've known for quite awhile now that it was you," the vixen whispered.
"Then you won't begrudge me this? Consider it an act of self-defense."
The vixen spit at him. "I'll consider it a further way for you to cover your tracks. I've looked into your future and I've seen great suff…"
Her final words were lost as he plunged the assassin's knife into her heart.
CCC
Willow wiped a tired paw across her forehead. The morning sun overhead was high and very hot. Even though the autumn was swiftly come, the summer's heat was reluctant to relinquish its hold.
With a sigh, she asked, "Are we ever gonna get to Redwall?"
Major Peony and Captain Turnsol peered back at her from where they were peering at a spot of moss on a tree. Jonquil, the other tracker, was standing by his friends Toby and Alma and the three of them were looking at the swift river flowing west towards the sea.
Major Peony patted Turnsol on the back and walked over the squirrelmaid. "We should be at Redwall Abbey in just a matter of days, Willow. We're at the southern bend of the River Moss. Turnsol and Jonquil have picked out our heading so we'll just head due north until we bump into the Abbey."
"We're also at least a day ahead of the pine marten," added Turnsol.
"So we should arrive at Redwall with plenty of time to warn them. If we hurry and travel longer into the night, we might even arrive at the Abbey a day early," amended Peony.
Sergeant Saxifrage rubbed his growling stomach. "I can't wait to taste those Redwall vittles."
"I'm with Sergeant Saxophone on this one," chuckled Jekker Diamond.
Peony laughed and patted his stomach as well. "Sooner than you think, Sax!"
Lieutenant Oswego glanced meaningfully at Jekker Diamond before proclaiming loudly. "But will it be enough?"
Saxifrage turned to him perplexed. "I'd bally well hope so. I'm famished."
Major Peony looked at Oswego in confusion as well. Could it be that Oswego had finally developed a sense of humor. "I think even Redwall's kitchens should more than suffice to feed Sergeant Saxifrage's legendary appetite, Oswego."
Jekker Diamond chuckled.
Oswego rolled his eyes. "That's not what I meant, you simpletons."
Major Peony gave him a pained smile in her attempts to be professional. "Then do let us know what it is that you are thinking, Oswego."
"Yeah, spit it out, you bounder!" Turnsol fussed.
"This pine marten tyrant is bringing five hundred blinkin' vermin to Redwall Abbey. Even with the Abbey's defenses bolstered by the… seventeen of us, we won't stand a chance against his horde!"
Turnsol snorted. "Are you scared, Oswego? And by now Regolith has less than four hundred soldiers after all of our guerilla attacks. You might want to check your arithmetic."
Oswego narrowed his eyes at Turnsol. "I don't need arithmetic to see that we're heavily outnumbered!"
Dann Reguba had heard enough. He stepped forward between the two arguing hares. "I am the Warrior of Redwall Abbey. I know our defenses better than anybeast. And I tell you that the Redwallers will be able to stand and fight against this horde. Redwall Abbey has been besieged by forces much greater than this. Not only that, it has also been defended by many fewer creatures than currently reside there, creatures with much less training that we will have this time. After we arrive at Redwall, we will be bursting at the seams with capable military warriors. Regolith will realize the hard way that he has bitten off more than he can chew, charging at us blindly in the middle of the harvest season. We won't even have to worry a bit about provisions for a siege!"
Jekker Diamond clapped his paws, "A beautiful soliloquy Mr. Rutabaga."
"Reguba," Dann corrected.
"Quite," Jekker responded.
"But imagine how much surer victory would be if the thousand or so battle ready hares of the Long Patrol marched to our aid?" said Oswego. "Surely we should send somebeast back to Salamandastron!"
"It's unnecessary at best, Oswego," Sergeant Saxifrage countered. "It would take at least a season for news to travel to Salamandastron and forces to come to our aid, if creatures can even be spared. It would be a fool's errand."
"But we are late with our report," Major Peony muttered to herself.
"Did you say something, darling?" Jekker asked, sidling up to her and pushing Turnsol out of the way. He put a paw around her shoulders and whispered into her ear, "Could you bless us again with those words of wisdom that came from yer ruby red lips?"
"Er?" stuttered Peony.
"Did you say something about the report for the patrol?" asked Lieutenant Tobias.
Lorica scratched her head with an ear, "Is there some sort of due date for that, Major?"
"Typically," said Borage. "Is it coming up soon, Peony?"
Peony pulled out the small book from a pocket in her forest green tunic. "It was last week."
"Last week!" roared Oswego in outrage. "You're a bloody Long Patrol Major! How can you so blatantly disregard the rules of your office! I don't believe this. I propose that…"
"Stuff it, Oswego." Saxifrage rolled his eyes when he started to feel a disturbing sense of déjà vu with what had happened in the swamp. "I'm sure the Major had a perfectly good reason for disobeying orders."
"Quite," Peony said, looking at Oswego disapprovingly. Taking out a folded piece of paper with a wax stamp from the same pocket that the small book had come, she waved it in Oswego's face. "My orders are clear and as your commanding officer, you should show the proper respect for my decisions for this patrol. My orders for this mission were very clear and I have followed them to a tee. The deadline for our return to Salamandastron was last week. But that was while we were a scouting party. Our purpose has changed drastically. Now our mission is not to find this slave compound – a mission we have completed above and beyond the call of duty – but to hasten to Redwall with the news of their eminent siege."
Having taken a moment to draw breath, Peony was interrupted by the irrepressible Jekker Diamond. "By the fur, you gave me chills, my love. How I do love a beautiful haremaid givin' the orders," he said with a lascivious wink.
"Shut up, Jerker," growled Turnsol.
"Can it, Turnstyle," countered Jekker.
"Enough of the name calling, you two," said Peony. "You looked like you wanted to say something, Borage."
"Well I…"
"I'm not done speaking my piece!" interrupted Oswego.
"Hey, Ozzie, give Porridge here a chance to speak his piece."
"Thank you?" Borage stuttered. "Well what I was gonna say was that, I don't see any harm in Lieutenant Oswego's suggestion. It might turn out to be the best thing we can do, bringing reinforcements from Salamandastron."
"And if some of us return to Salamandastron, we could return your report as well Major. Better late than never," added Lieutenant Tobias.
Oswego grinned. He couldn't believe that finally creatures were appreciating his guidance and leadership, even though it was cruelly meant. He wouldn't be leading anyone to Salamandastron. He would be leading them to the slaughter.
"I suppose it's not a terrible idea," Peony amended. "You see, my main reservation for Oswego's idea is that well, we have four hundred vermin hot on our tail! Even though we're hopefully a day ahead of them, it doesn't mean they won't catch up to us or catch sight of us. It's really a miracle we've made it this far unharmed. There's strength in numbers. We might end up needing the whole of this patrol to make it to Redwall for somebeast to give them the warning. If we send a smaller force to ask for reinforcements from Salamandastron, there is a great probability that they might be caught by the pine marten's creatures."
"But I believe that the reward is more than enough to justify the risk," said Oswego.
"Then again, it couldn't hurt to let the Lord Russano aware of the proceedings. Alright then, Oswego." Peony took a deep breath and stood up straighter. "I'll leave you in charge of the Salamandastron group. You are to bring the creatures with you to Salamandastron and give the Lord Russano a full report. I will keep my notebook to finish the report myself, but you can tell the badgerlord what has happened so far."
"Thank you, Major," said Oswego beaming with pride.
Peony put a paw under her chin and considered the other members of her group. "I'm loath to part with any of you, but I suppose I'll have to. I want to go as well, Lieutenant Tobias, you can help Oswego with the report when you get back home. Jonquil, you will go with them as well to help with tracking and finding your way back to Salamadastron. Fleetpaw, you'll be going of course being the galloper. And Oswego of course."
The four hares looked at each other. Oswego's smile was brightening. This would be cake.
A creature behind the major cleared her throat. "Major Peony, I would like to request to join Lieutenant Oswego's group as well."
Peony turned to stare at the haremaid who had tried to get her attention. "Are you sure, Alma?"
"Yes, mam. If you'll give your approval. I'd like to go as well."
"Well," said Peony with hesitation. At the young 'uns pleading gaze, she smiled and said, "All right then, my dear. You can join the group going to Salamadastron as well."
"Thank you very much, Major Peony!" exclaimed Alma!
The haremaid scurried over to stand next to her four companions. They all looked over at the remaining members of the patrol with excited yet bittersweet expressions.
The group which would continue on to Redwall, said their goodbyes to the five companions. Some not realizing it would be their last.
"Happy hunting, Major!"
"Thanks, Toby. A swift journey for you as well."
"Give me love to my mater and pater, Alma."
"Of course, Lorica. Be sure to scoff plenty of Redwall vittles in our honor."
"You don't need to tell us twice," chuckled Blackberry.
"We knew I could count on you, Blackberry," Fleetpaw chuckled.
Turnsol took Jonquil aside and whispered. "Be careful, mate, and keep a close eye on Oswego. I think he's up to something. You saw what happened in the swamp."
"We all saw a side of him we didn't like," agreed Jonquil.
"If anything goes wrong, just run. Run as fast as you can."
The hare looked at the Long Patrol Captain in surprise. "I don't understand. You want me to continue to Salamandastron no matter what?"
"Use your own discretion, ole chap. To Salamandastron or to Redwall, whichever seems the better course of action. You're one of the best trackers I've ever seen. You'll be able to pick up our trail and avoid Regolith's if you need to return our way."
"Yes, sir."
"And look out for the young ones, Jon. Fleetpaw and Alma don't realize it, but they're getting in way over their heads."
"I promise. And be careful yerself, Turnsol. I don't like the look of that Jekker Diamond fellow. He's bad news."
"I will. Thank you. Swift journey."
Two other creatures were having a whispered conference at the same time as the Long Patrol Captain.
Jekker Diamond patted Lieutenant Oswego on the back rather harder than necessary and inquired, "Up for the task, matey?"
There was no doubt in the Long Patrol Lieutenant's eyes, only determination. "I know what I must do."
"Then happy hunting, Major Oswego," were Jekker's parting words, his smile devilish.