Martin thought long and hard about his dream. It drifted out of his memory, until it was simply a fuzzy battle that had taken place. Perhaps he was remembering past battles? At Marshank? In Mossflower? At the northshores? He heard singing drift into his ears ...

"The death of an Abbey
Sweed-sounding to me
The downfall of war'ors
Due to mine and yours ..."

Martin raced out of his bed chamber to find the singer-- but the only creature he saw was Perigold.

Perigold.

"Who are you?" Martin asked. His whiskers were twitching; his ears stood erect; even his paws were rigid and straight.

"What do you mean, Martin?" Perigold giggled. But it wasn't a giggle that Martin found inviting. She smiled, but Martin didn't feel drawn in by it. Her eyes twinkled, but not with the goodness he had first seen in her.

"Who are you?!" he repeated, practically shouting into her face. Gonff had been walking to Cavern Hole and was now in the corridor with Perigold and Martin.

"I think it's about time you answered that question, 'Perigold Lubior'," Gonff said from behind Martin. The warrior did not turn to see his friend, but stood there, continuing to fume.

"I don't understand ..."

"I think you understand very well, mouse," Gonff's chest was heaving by now, his breath exerted by anger.

"Perigold." Martin's statement sounded more of a question. "I think you have overstayed your welcome."

"You were never welcome here."

"Un-welcome? Are you sending me away? Do you, as an Abbey, refuse shelter and food to a poor mouse?" Perigold's eye burned with anger and disbelief.

"Go," said Martin shortly. "Go." Perigold turned and walked down the corridor. Martin followed. As she left the Abbey grounds she turned around and her eyes burned into his.

"You shall pay."