Chapter Four

'Redwall'

Anera looked up in her dream. There, before her, was a well-built mouse. She instantly recognized him as Martin the Warrior. The mousemaid let out a small gasp.

"Anera," said Martin. "Redwall is in tremendous danger. Maybe greater danger than ever before. The only way to stop it is to find the secret of the past, and find the one that can save us. I must tell you...

Find the Enemy's Friend

Find the Betrayed

The lost prince of the south

To help save the day

Go to Salamandastron

Bring him my Sword

The rightful heir to the south

Help save the lands."

Anera woke with a start. She was in front of the legendary tapestry of Martin the Warrior. Martin had appeared in her dream and given her a message.

She became slightly excited. The abbey was definitely in trouble, and she had received a message from Martin the Warrior, as she read about in the archives.

She decided to find Abbess Fern. She started asking around.

"Do you know where the abbess is?" she asked the nearest creature to her.

Mervo the young fox nodded, and indicated the pile of books in his paws. "Abbess is with Uggo. They let me have these books."

As the young fox walked away to read, Anera sped toward the Gatehouse and burst through the door. Abbess was talking to Uggo about the horde incoming, and Posy was training the assistant recorder, her daughter, Willow.

"Abbess! Uggo! I think I just got a message from Martin the Warrior!"

Uggo nodded, he had learned from experience to trust Martin's word. Anera told the riddle and Uggo recorded.

"Hmm... Well if we had some more knowledge from the south... huh," said a confused Uggo.

"Anera, go get a mole you can trust, their logic is always good. And find Erzvin the fox. He in the south," commanded Fern.

Anera nodded and sped off. A couple minutes later she returned, breathless, followed by a stout mole called Billo and Erzvin the fox. Fern showed them Uggo's recording of the riddle.

"Hurr, dat be a gurt 'ead scrasher, no moistake," reported Bungle in his molespeech. "Oi thinken Marthen wanted us to get 'is sword to oo'ever 'ee be talkin' 'bout."

Fern smiled and said, "Classic mole logic. But who is Martin talking about?"

Erzvin grinned. "That's where I come in. Before Silvertung came into power the south was ruled by the weaker force of the wildcats, and the stronger force of the goodbeasts at castle Floret, ruled by King Truffet IX, his wife, queen Karina, and their children. The princesses, Viola, Triana, Mina, and the Princes, Truffet XII, Regulon, and Tharius. Silvertung came and killed all of them, except young Tharius. The squirrel was put to go to the dungeons, never to be seen again. After torture, of course. Had something against the squirrel, I believe. Imagine surviving after your whole family was slaughtered, then your tortured and sent to the dungeons, forever."

"Hurr, Tharius must 'ee the lost prince, oi believe."

The others nodded. "So I think I need to go, alone, to Salamandastron," clarified Anera.

Even though the others nodded, Abbess Fern shook her head. "No. Skipper's daughter and a whole platoon of otters will be going already to get help. We'll send the sword with them."

"Abbess, Martin was pretty clear–" began Uggo, but was cut off.

"No! Why should we endanger her?" Anera was an orphan that came to the abbey. Fern, who lost her husband and dibbun child to a sickness, thought of the young mousemaid as her own daughter, and was very overprotective. "Skipper's platoon will leave tomorrow. We will send the sword with them. That is final."

Everybody disagreed, but the Abbess would not change her mind.

oooooooooooooooo

Uggo found Anera sitting on the wall, gazing at the stars.

"You must go. If Martin wanted others, he would say. And if there's anything I learned from being the Archive Master, it's that Martin's always right.

"So I already made preparations. I will give you a copy of yer riddle, the sword, some rations, and I have made a boat. The design was by a good rat called Blaggut; a dibbun could control it. Come."

He took out of the abbey to the Great South Stream. He gave her the copy, a bag of rations, and the sword, and she boarded and sailed away after saying her thanks.

Uggo felt he had done something great. Finally.

The Great South Stream

Dethfur, Foulpaw, and four others from the crew, all searats, Crabtooth, Ripjaw, Earfang, and Oiltail, sat swigging wine and doing one one of their favorite activities: Plotting Vafír's death.

"'E thinks 'e be sooo smart. Huh. I'll show 'im," said Earfang in his scratchy voice.

"What if we set fire to his boat?" said Oiltail, indicating the longboat in the very far back.

"How will we reach the boat without being noticed," asked Foulpaw.

A small paper floated from a nearby tree and landed on Ripjaw's head. The rat picked it off his head and unfolded it, then began to read; "Once we conquer Salamandastron, Vafír 'ill 'ave a nice feast. All we gotta do is poison 'is food or drink."

They all grinned at the idea, including Tharius, whom was hiding in the trees. Even if Vafír conquered the fortress, the fox would still die. He deserved it.

Jumping a couple trees to catch up to boats, he took aim with his bow that Eric had given him. Taking aim, he fired at Vafír. It was a good shot, but Vafír ducked, and it hit a water rat behind him. The fox remained completely phlegmatic, as usual. The water rats, however, shouted and quickened their pace, forcing Tharius to jump from trees faster.

Cursing, he took aim with another arrow. Just before he shot, a stone shot from a sling, knocking him senseless.

ooooooooooooo

Vafir passed a piece of bark parchment to another logboat. It made it's way to the pine marten, General Zaev.

The Pine Marten read it, his mouth spreading to a villainous grin. He looked ahead to one of the logboats in the front, where Dethfur and his crew were scheming. He laughed. They had no idea what was coming for them.

Southsward, Slave Compound

Bluenose the weasel was not one to miss something. And when Vafír and his horde left, he definitely noticed.

After Vafír had caught him, Bluenose had endured hard slavery. He had no joy He now sat in one of the slave compounds that belonged to Vafír, and was talking to a young otter, named Streampaw about plans of escape.

"This is our chance, with Silvertung gone," said Bluenose.

"Yes. But how?"

"We wait till we work in the woods. Then we climb the trees to escape."

"We're not squirrels, matey."

Bluenose nodded. "I know. But what if we find other ideas? Otters could wait till they're near the river. Moles could grab a chance and dig away. Squirrels could climb trees."

"What about you? And the mice, and hedgehogs, and voles, and shrews, and old ones, and young 'uns?"

Bluenose nodded. "The otters, squirrels, and moles will go across to the other compounds and give them the plan. Once you have an army of otters, squirrels, and moles you can raid the compounds to free the others."

"You really thought of everything."

The weasel shook his head. "You can never think of everything."