Chapter 14

Martin found himself standing on the deck of a large ship, wearing his armor with his sword in paw. The vessel was deserted, floating serenely in the middle of the ocean under the full moon's light. A door creaked eerily on its hinges behind him. He turned and saw that the stateroom doors had opened by themselves. An icy chill went up his spine, yet something compelled him to enter the candle-lit room. Holding his sword ready, he walked slowly towards the opening; stopping in the doorway to look around warily. The room was empty, except for a blue trunk trimmed with gold plating, sitting on a dais at the opposite end. He stepped inside and immediately the doors slammed shut behind him. He turned and stared at them, bewildered. He touched the handle and immediately drew his paw back like it had bit him. The iron knob was burning hot. He stared at his paw. It had burned him but it didn't leave a mark.

The warriormouse turned towards the trunk again. There was an evil aura about it. Despite this, he sheathed his sword and walked towards it, cautiously. He stopped a tail's length away and inspected it, puzzled.

Why was it here and set up like a shrine?

He was about to open it when a scathing laugh caused him to spin around, unsheathing his sword in the same motion.

The yellow-eyed stoat stood in front of the closed doors, grinning malevolently.

Martin returned the stare. "Who are you?" He challenged, wanting to find out the vermin's name. The stoat replied by launching himself at Martin, claws outstretched on all four feet. The warrior stood his ground and waited for his enemy but the scene shifted before the stoat's claws came in contact with the warriormouse.

Martin was now standing in a dim circle of light, with darkness on all sides. Turning this way and that, he peered into the inky blackness. Unlike the stateroom, the darkness radiated a strange serenity. He was struck dumb with disbelief when Rose stepped out of the obscure space, holding a woven wreath. The pretty mousemaid smiled at him lovingly, her hazel eyes shining. She placed the wreath in his trembling paws. Being shorter than him, she stretched up until her lips were near his ear. Martin breathed in her familiar scent, unable to speak.

"Take care of her for me." She whispered. Like a wisp of wind, she was gone. Martin looked down at the wreath in his paws.

It was made with laurel leaves.

He woke up in his room in the gatehouse. For the first time since his nightmares began, he felt slightly at peace after Rose appeared. But the earlier scene had disturbed him. What was in that trunk?

Another thought chilled him. Or who?

Since it was nearly dawn, he decided that he would get an early start to the day. The sky was barely beginning to lighten when he walked up on the ramparts to look out over Mossflower. He wasn't surprised when Gonff joined him, leaning against the wall next to his friend.

"Had another dream?"

Martin nodded. He told Gonff about it, describing the strange trunk. The mousethief scratched his head thoughtfully.

"Do you like laurel leaves?"

Martin stared at him, almost annoyed. That wasn't the response he was expecting. The inside of his ears turned pink with embarrassment. "I'm more interested in what the trunk on the ship means. Maybe Rose gave me the wreath to-

"Maybe she's telling you something." Gonff cut him off. "You're about to meet someone, a 'she' more specifically." Gonff winked and Martin shook his head, turning back to the rising sun. He knew what his friend was implying.

"I don't think that's it. Besides, I'm too old for that sort of thing."

Gonff scoffed. "You would rather turn into a graying old mouse in a habit, with your paws folded in your sleeves and the same boring, serene look on your face. What kind of life is that, Martin?"

Martin raised an eyebrow. "A peaceful one."

"What happened to your sense of adventure?" Gonff asked him, teasingly.

Before Martin could reply, something on the path caught his eye. Three shrews were jogging up the path towards Redwall's gates.

"It's the Guosim." Gonff observed.

Martin nodded. "Let's see what they're up to." He sped for the stairs, their conversation forgotten.

The two mice met the shrews outside the main gates. The lead shrew smiled and nodded his head in greeting.

"Just the mouse I was looking for. I'll bet you don't remember me?"

Martin smiled. "I'd never forget you, Philo." The warrior looked about him. "Where's the rest of your gang?"

Philo patted him on the back. "That's what we came to tell you." His smile turned into a serious line. "We need your help. Iris is waiting for us at the River Moss."

Gonff nodded to his companions. "You three look like breakfast would do you good."

Philo shook his head. "No. We have to get back there as soon as we can."

Martin was puzzled but he nodded. "Alright Philo, but let's get you something to eat on the way there. You three deserve a meal after a race like that."

Later that morning, the three shrews led their friends through Mossflower. Martin and Gonff walked with Philo while Folgrim, Dinny, the two otter sisters: Mayberry and Catkin, and Trimp walked behind them, weapons at the ready. Since Martin had hidden his sword nearly two seasons ago, he carried a short dagger and a sling in the belt around his waist. Gonff had argued with him about his choice of weapons.

"I don't understand. Why won't you get your sword? You made the vow on your own; it's not like you've promised anyone you were giving it up." He stared at Martin seriously. "I'd feel a little safer if you had that sword in your paws, matey."

Martin shrugged. "I would, but its farther away than you think." He replied, cryptically.

Gonff stopped in his tracks and shook his head, mystified. He still had no idea where Martin had hidden his sword and the retired warrior refused to tell him.

As Philo ate his honey-glazed scone, he told Martin and Gonff about the vermin raft and the little mousemaid imprisoned by them.

"I'm not sure how long she's been captive, but they seem to be caring for her well enough. Usually, foxes are brutal slave masters." Philo took another bite before continuing. "Iris thought we'd stand more of a chance getting her away from them if we had you Redwallers on our side."

"So, what's the plan, Martin?" Trimp asked from the back.

Martin replied without looking back. "I'm still thinking. We're up against trained fighters, it sounds like: rats, martens-

"Don't forget the wolverine, mate." Folgrim reminded him.

"Yes." Martin nodded. "That's the one creature I'm worried about the most."

"Hurr. I don' loike the soun' of 'im great gurt beast." Dinny told Mayberry. The pretty otter lifted her spear, aiming it at an imaginary wolverine expertly.

"Don't worry Din. He won't get so far with this spear through his gut!"

Philo nodded grimly. "We'll 'ave to watch our backs with that one. He's the one guarding the young mouse. One wrong move from us and that little maid will lose her life."

Martin thought for a few moments. "If the wolverine is guarding her, it's going to be harder to get her out of there, safely."

Gonff stared at him, knowingly. "We really need that sword, mate."

Martin ignored him. "When we find Iris, we'll make a plan. I want to see what we're up against first. For now, the mousemaid is safe. We need to keep it that way until we rush in. Understood?"

Heads nodded. Gonff kept his annoyance in check, half-heartedly agreeing.

It was late in the afternoon and Iris was getting nervous. Philo was swift on his feet but she worried he wouldn't be able to pick up their trail to reach them in time.

She and her shrews had followed the slow-moving raft for hours, camouflaging themselves when the vermin came ashore to forage. To her amazement, she had watched the smaller of the vixens care for the young mouse. It was far from the cruelty foxes usually showed, giving her a full ration instead of a crust.

Philo's group met up with his fellow Guosim sometime after darkness had fallen. He had seen their small cooking fire through the trees. Iris shook paws warmly with the Redwallers, pleased with the turnout. They had set up camp far enough away from the river to avoid detection. The vermin raft had been tied down for the night on the banks and posted with sentries.

"Where's that magnificent sword of yours, warrior?" Iris asked as her shrews served their guests supper.

Before Martin could defend himself, Gonff answered for him. "Our warrior here thinks himself retired. Silly, isn't it?" The thief grinned meaningfully at his friend.

Iris was surprised. "Well, I don't begrudge you a little peace in your life, Martin. Forgive me for saying this, but aren't you a little young to be retired?"

Martin kicked Gonff's foot paw stealthily with his own and gave the shrew a wry smile. "I learned long ago from a wise badger lord that a sword doesn't make the warrior."

Iris liked this phrase. She watched approvingly as her friends were served with bowls of stew. "Eat up, friends." Iris said before she dove into her own bowl. "I like having a full belly before starting a fight."

After supper, the rescue party made their plan.

The plan was beautifully simple. The two sentries, both of them dozy pine martens, would be knocked out and dragged away quietly by a few shrews. The otter sisters, Mayberry and Catkin would slip into the river downstream and swim underneath the raft to loosen the bindings and other materials that held it together. From Martin's vantage point, he saw that it had been badly put together. Dinny and Trimp would hide nearby in the bushes, ready to make a quick escape with the little mousemaid while the fighting was going on.

Martin, Gonff and Folgrim were the main war party, along with Iris and Philo and some hand-picked shrews. The rest waited in the trees and bushes as backup. Martin kept his eyes on the small captive, curled in a tiny ball next to the raft's hut. For once, he wished his sword was with him. It would have cut easily through the chain links that kept her imprisoned.

"Off you go, you two." Martin whispered to the two otters. Mayberry and Catkin saluted and slid off into the dark forest to enter the river out of sight of the vermin raft. He watched them go before turning to Trimp and Dinny.

"Ready?"

Trimp nodded. "I believe so."

"Hurr aye! Jus' loike in the old days."

Martin smiled at Dinny's remark. Iris stood next to him and nodded. "I'll send out the boyos."

Eight large shrews stole up behind the two sentries, their footsteps silent as a grave. The others watched from the shadows, ready to move in should anything go wrong.

One of the pine martens scratched his head, leaning on his spear tiredly.

"You're not dozing are ya?" His companion whispered.

He blinked. "Just about." He straightened and yawned. "Those vixens have got us workin' ourselves to the bone. Keepin' watch and foragin' for food while those rats lay back and do nothin' except steer the raft."

His companion gripped his spear tightly. "I know it. No appreciation. And all this for that shrimp of a mouse."

"Huh. Not even a decent mouthful."

They didn't get to finish their conversation. The shrews were on them so fast, they didn't have time to yell out an alarm. They were clubbed into unconsciousness. The lead shrew waved at the others hidden in the undergrowth before helping to drag the two lifeless sentries away.

Martin and Iris exchanged a glance. "Ready warrior?"

Martin nodded. "Ready."

They slipped out of the bushes wraithlike, weapons at the ready. Catkin and Mayberry surfaced quietly and signaled to Martin that their task had been completed. Martin signaled for them to stay where they were before boarding the raft, quietly.

Hearing the boards creaking underneath her ear, Laurel had opened her eye and was startled to see several creatures surround the slumbering vermin on the raft. She lifted her head but it was forced back down gently by a strong looking mouse with pale gray eyes. He gestured for her to be quiet and she nodded, her eyes wide. Folgrim and several shrews had the points of their javelins aimed at Fleak who lay in a deep slumber.

Iris replaced Martin at Laurel's side and quickly set to work on the manacle's lock around her ankle.

Viscinia, having woken from a strange dream, saw the war-like creatures surrounding them and shot up from her makeshift bed, barking a shrill alarm.

It was utter chaos.

Gonff shielded Iris and Laurel while the others joined in battle with the rats and martens. Terrified by their ferocity, Marlo and Viscinia chose to dive into the water instead of face their attackers, being cowardly foxes. Marlo had just placed a paw on the bank before being grabbed by the scruff and dragged away. She hung limply when she saw they had been caught by two rough looking female otters.

Fleak was a force to be reckoned with. The mute wolverine was engaged in battle with Folgrim and Martin on either side of him. With him distracted, Iris saw the opportunity to snatch up the rest of Laurel's chain from him. Gonff took over the lock picking. He winked at Laurel.

"Nice night for an escape, huh?"

All Laurel could do was smile; she was too shocked to say anything.

Savitch urged his rats on before trying to slip away himself. The battle was lost and he wasn't sticking around. He slipped into the water, clinging to the side of the raft.

Because of the otters' destructive work on the raft, the planks began to come apart with the weight of so many battling creatures. With Fleak's gargantuan weight on the one end, he plunged through the planks into the river, taking Folgrim and Martin with him. Laurel and Gonff were taken down as well, the manacle still around her ankle. Iris had tried to get the chain away from Fleak but he had shoved her away. With Fleak in the water, clinging stubbornly to his captive's chain, Laurel was dragged under the water. She clung to Gonff, fighting for breath as she struggled to resurface.

Under water, Fleak struck out at Martin with his claws. Martin somersaulted to avoid it. Folgrim wrapped his muscled arms around the wolverine's neck to pull him away from the mouse warrior. In their fight, Laurel's chain got wrapped around Fleak's leg, pulling her under completely and out of Gonff's grasp. He dove after her, grabbing her small paw. Iris pulled on the chain to slacken it and to relieve Laurel's leg. Gonff resumed work on the lock with difficulty, relying on touch instead of sight.

Martin had seen Gonff and Iris in the water's gloom and resurfaced. "Folgrim!" He yelled above the battle noise.

The otter gave the wolverine a stunning blow on the head.

Martin pointed downwards. "Help me get that chain from around his leg. He's drowning the little one!"

He only half heard Iris who had resurfaced nearby, shouting to him before he went under the water again.

"Hurry Martin! She can't take anymore of this!"

Laurel was half-conscious but kept a tight grip on Gonff. She could feel him touch her foot as he struggled to free her.

Martin began to unwrap the chain from Fleak's huge foot paw, trying to avoid the wolverine's deadly claws with Folgrim forcing Fleak's head under the surface, ignoring the struggling wolverine's flailing paws as he fought for breath.

Finally, just as Laurel lost consciousness, the manacle fell off her foot. Gonff and Iris pulled Laurel to the surface. Martin saw them go. He let go of the chain and swam to the surface.

Lezpa saw Fleak get weaker and weaker as the big otter with the single eye drowned him. The white mink became very afraid. She shoved several shrews out of her way and tried to reach the opposite bank by leaping through the air. She landed on the retreating Savitch instead. He had been hiding under the raft's debris. The rat gave her a heavy blow to the head that sent her into the water before scrambling up the bank. Philo saw him and tossed his dagger expertly through the air. It found its mark in the rat's backside and he went down, never to rise again.

Martin was flung into the river bed as Fleak mustered up another burst of strength to free himself. Fighting water from entering his mouth, Martin felt the discarded chain underneath him. He grabbed a hold of it and shot to the surface. He took a few gasping breaths before tossing the chain above his head and throwing it at the wolverine's neck. It wrapped like a spider's web around it and Martin pulled tight. Folgrim joined him and the two warriors' combined strength squeezed the life from Fleak's body. The wolverine fought against death but eventually, his eyes glazed over and he sunk into the river, dead.

Martin and Folgrim let go of the chain, floating in the gentle current that had been churning with battle seconds earlier. He patted the otter's shoulder, wearily.

"Well done."

Folgrim nodded, too exhausted to speak. A whistle from the bank caused them to turn around.

"What do you want us to do with these two, Martin?" Catkin pointed at Marlo and Viscinia. The two vixens were soaked, standing between the otter sisters, bedraggled and shame-faced. Martin rubbed his eyes, stinging from being open underwater.

"Keep an eye on them, Catkin. I need to see how our little friend is doing." He pulled himself out of the river, Folgrim following.

Philo walked up, holding his arm gingerly. Martin looked at him, concerned. The shrew shrugged him off. "It's nothin'. Just a sprain. But we showed them. Those who didn't get stabbed or drowned took off wailing."

"That rat didn't last very long." Another shrew reported. "The rascal tried to run for it but old Philo here got him!" Philo shrugged him off, though he was pleased with himself.

Gonff and Iris had revived Laurel. She lay on her side, coughing up large amounts of river water. Her leg was bruised and bleeding from the manacle pulling on it.

"We need to get this little one to Redwall and get that leg seen to." Trimp said, pounding Laurel's back.

Catkin and Mayberry had their huge paws on the vixens. "What about these two wretches?" Catkin repeated.

"Yes." Mayberry glared at them. "I'm not taking them anywhere near Redwall."

Martin had knelt down next to Laurel to inspect her leg but now he stood up, paws akimbo and glared at the two quavering foxes.

"What are you doing in Mossflower?" He asked them, his voice hard. "And with a captive?"

Marlo gulped. "Just… just passing through, sir."

Viscinia nodded. "We meant no harm."

Iris glared at them. "I know you two foxes and your slave trade. Don't think for one minute that I'd believe your lies!"

Martin was furious. "You vixens are lucky she's still alive." He walked up and the two vixens cowered before him. "Where did you steal her from?"

Marlo shook her head. "W-we don't know where she came from, sir. We found her on the beach one night-

"Lies!" Iris growled.

"Its true, Sir!" Viscinia knelt at the mouse warrior's feet, pleading for mercy. "Ask her yourself!"

Laurel was sitting up groggily, half listening to the exchange. She saw that Martin and Iris were staring at her and she croaked an answer.

"They really don't know where I'm from. I… I ran away." She replied hoarsely.

Martin and Iris shared a glance. Iris nodded reluctantly and they turned back to the two dripping vixens.

"If I see you in Mossflower again, you won't make it out." Martin warned them.

Marlo was shocked. "You're letting us go?"

Folgrim stepped up, grinning ferociously. "Unless you want to stay longer. I'd be good wit' that." He held Savitch's dagger that had originally belonged to Laurel in his paw.

The two foxes shook their heads vigorously, spraying water droplets everywhere.

"These two will escort you downstream." Martin nodded to Catkin and Mayberry.

Iris pointed her shrew sword at them. "You're lucky Martin is a fair beast. If it were up to me, I'd have you two skinned for kidnapping."

As the otters pulled the defeated foxes away, Marlo glanced back at Laurel. "Will she be alright?"

Iris leaped forward, blocking Laurel from Marlo's view. "For goodness sake, she's fine! Now get out of here, you tramp!"

Without another word, the vixens were escorted away. Folgrim followed as extra backup, waving to his friends as they went. "See you back at Redwall, mates."

Trimp looked down at Laurel, her eyebrow raised. "Funny. She almost seemed worried about you."

Laurel nodded tiredly. "Marlo was okay... for a fox."

"Any casualties?" Iris asked Philo as the rescue party readied themselves to leave. Philo nodded. "A few scratches and bites. It could have been worse. Luckily we had two mighty warriors like Martin and Folgrim to subdue that wolverine."

"Aye." Iris agreed.

Laurel, supported by Trimp and Dinny, stood up shakily, keeping her injured leg off the ground.

"Can you walk?" Martin asked her, gently.

Laurel nodded. "I think so." Her voice cracked.

The warrior gave her a small smile. "We have a lot to talk about, miss."

Laurel returned the smile, albeit sheepishly. "Thank you for saving me, Martin."

Trimp patted her kindly. "What's your name?"

"Laurel."

Gonff and Martin brought up the rear as the large party walked through the moonlit woods, deep in conversation.

Gonff whispered excitedly. "She's the one Rose wants you to take care of. With a name like Laurel, who else could it be?"

Martin was deep in thought and had hardly heard his friend. He was sure Laurel had the information he had been seeking since his dreams began.

"She's from Noonvale." Martin mused almost to himself.

Gonff stared at him. "Do you think so, matey?"

Martin winked. "She's the answer to my dreams. She has to be."