Disclaimer: I don't own Redwall and I don't want to have to type this at the beginning of every chapter, so this disclaimer counts for every chapter before and after this one. I do own the Silverstar and basically all the characters except the ones that Brian Jacques made up (obviously), such as Martin the Warrior.

Chapter 5

The old mouse with long gray whiskers, clad in a light green habit, strode across the soft bright grass. Dew that clung to the fresh new grass of spring in shimmering, fragile globes brushed off on his bare footpaws. The miniature forest of grass of the abbey lawn radiated the peace and beauty of the fresh, misty morning. The ancient sandstone walls of Redwall Abbey soaked up the warm, welcome sun and glowed with the glory of the new day.
The gray-whiskered mouse, Ivre, chuckled as he saw three pairs of paws hastily scramble into the new foliage of one of the apple trees in the orchard.
Pretending he hadn't seen, Ivre looked around and said loudly, trying hard not to smile, "Hmm, I wonder where those three Dibbuns have got to. Reppen! Fribb! Wurtim! I know you took all those candied chestnuts that were supposed be part of breakfast. Come out!" He looked around the orchard thriving with buds and tiny bright new leaves, carefully not looking at the tree the three miscreants were hiding in. He put on a great show of puzzlement and murmured, "Surely the little scamps can't have vanished into thin air."
There was a loud giggle from the apple tree, followed by a furious shushing. Ivre casually walked over the tree and said, "Of course they couldn't be hiding. here!"
He reached up into the branches and tickled the velvety footpaws he saw hanging down.
"Oh, stoppit zurr, Oi'm turribly afeared of falling from this gurt tree, ho urr!"
The mole Dibbun, Wurtim, stuck his head down from the branches, blinking and chuckling as Ivre stopped tickling his footpaws and stepped back.
"Wurtim," said an annoyed voice. The mousemaid Fribb dropped out of the tree and landed safely in the lush grass next to Ivre. "You weren' asposed to say we were up here." She turned and glared at the ancient mouse. "It was Rep'n's idea."
Giving in to the broad smile he had been restraining, Ivre called up into the tree, "Reppen, come down here, you little rogue. Mother Nelfa wants to speak to the three of you."
With a scowl as big as the smile on Ivre's face, the otter Dibbun, Reppen, the ringleader of the group, slid down the slick, wet surface of the tree trunk. Tiny crystals of sugar from the candied chestnuts stuck in his whiskers. He licked them off frantically as though he wouldn't have a chance to later, which he probably wouldn't, if the imperious badger mother Nelfa had anything to do with it.
"I don' wanna go see Ma Nelfa," Reppen grumbled. "She's gonna make us go to bed wiv no supper."
"Of course she won't," said Ivre kindly, "It's just morning. You wouldn't have to sleep the whole day." He took Reppen's paw and led him over the smooth, wet grass toward the abbey building, with Wurtim and Fribb trailing behind.
Ivre looked around in wonder at the peaceful place. He had been born at the abbey and had lived there all his life, but the beauty and serenity never ceased to amaze him. The calm, silver pond shimmered in the newly risen sun, reflecting the soft beams of light into dancing golden whispers upon its surface. Somewhere within it a fish moved, its sinuous, graceful body slipping smoothly through the glass-clear depths. A solitary song sparrow performed its trilling, whistling, jovial melody in the huge, proud trees that bordered Redwall. The sandstone abbey building and walls reared majestically above lawn, pond, and orchards.
"'Urry oop, zurr, afore us'ns miss brekkist!" Wurtim tugged Ivre's habit sleeve. Apparently the thought of a confrontation with Nelfa hadn't ruined the young mole's appetite.
"You've already had your breakfast, you little band of troublemakers, of candied chestnuts meant for other beasts," Ivre scolded gently.
Looking around guiltily, Fribb reached inside her smock and pulled out a rough sack.
"We didn' eat all the ches'nuts. We was saving them for later. We would have got sick eating alla dem at once."
Ivre peered inside the sack. There were a considerable number of chestnuts left, though fewer than half the original number.
"How do so many chestnuts fit in such tiny creatures?" he asked in mock amazement. "Good thing you didn't eat anymore or you would have exploded!"
"We're likkle, bu' we have big tummies," announced Reppen, proudly puffing out his.
As they entered the abbey, a huge female badger, the matriarch of Redwall, swept down on them.
"So that's where Friar Dahes's candied chestnuts went," she boomed. "Shame on you three. Haven't we taught you to respect others? Why must you take food from other hungry beasts, just to satisfy your own longings?"
The three Dibbuns cowered behind Ivre. An ottermaid, Azure, chuckled as she was walking by them into Cavern Hole.
"Go easy on 'em, Nelfa, they're only little 'uns. They don't know any better, right Reppen?"
The little otter nodded solemnly. "We don' know any better."
Nelfa harrumphed loudly, as though some great fun had been ruined.
"All right, you young rips. You'd better return those candied chestnuts to Friar Dahes right now without eating any or else."
The Dibbuns nodded furiously and scampered off in the direction of the kitchens without bothering to ask what exactly "or else" meant.

Out on the walltops, the mouse Kubrin watched the road, enjoying the peaceful (if rather wet) spring morning like so many other beasts. Kubrin loved the cheer and bustle of the abbey in which he lived, but he was a solitary creature, and enjoyed his time away from all that, up here in the cool morning mist and tranquility of silence, except for the occasional bird call and the rustle of the wind through the trees. Kubrin was the closest the abbey had to a warrior. He was skilled with weapons even though the he didn't posses the sword of Martin the Warrior, as it had been lost for many seasons now, and hated wounding or killing other creatures, he would fight to protect his home.
"Kubrin?"
The mouse turned around, knowing who it would be. The squirrelmaid Zulen stood beside him, holding a tray of honeyed scones and fresh mint tea.
"I brought you breakfast," she told him.
"Thank you," he replied.
This was the morning ritual. Kubrin would wake with the rising of the sun to watch the road and see if any travelers came for Redwall's hospitality. When all the other creatures were awake, Zulen would bring him breakfast.
The squirrel frowned and stared hard into the distant woodland as Kubrin sat down to eat his simple breakfast.
"I think I can see somebeast coming," she said, "Not down the path, but through the woods."
Kubrin stood up and looked in the same direction as Zulen, thoughtfully munching a scone. His eyes were better than hers.
"It's a white squirrel," he exclaimed. "She's clearly heading here. Let's meet her at the gate."
Kubrin and Zulen rushed down the steps of the wall to the main gate.

Maiko stood in front of Redwall, breathless with the beauty of it. She had heard tales of the place, but none could compare with the real thing. The high, rosy walls didn't seem to disturb or interrupt the nature and forest, but on the contrary seemed to be an eternal, essential part of it. Behind the walls Maiko could just barely see the roof of the abbey building and the top of the bell tower. She knew that inside the walls there would be a pond, and orchard, and creatures would be laughing and playing. Such a contrast to the barren, cold hills of her homeland. "Are you going to stand around there all day marm, or do you want to come in?" A voice hailed her from the abbey. Maiko saw that the main gate was open and a mouse and a squirrel were looking out at her. She ran toward them, her swordspear carried at a practiced angle to keep from cutting herself. The mouse grinned at her. "Well miss, you're just in time for breakfast. I'm Kubrin and this is Zulen." He pointed at the squirrel, who smiled. "I'm Maikolar," she replied in kind, "Daughter of Serrinay and Thiradel, ebony-silver in swordspear, warrior of the Silverstar, on my eight-season blademark quest." Both creatures stared at her for a moment. Then Zulen shrugged and said cheerfully, "Save that for Ivre, he's probably the only beast who can understand it. Do you want breakfast, Maikolar?" It was only then that Maiko realized she hadn't eaten for about two days. Breakfast would be a wonderful relief. "Call me Maiko, please," she said. "I'd love breakfast." Kubrin and Zulen led her into the Redwall. Maiko stared about her in wonder at the orchard, pond, belltower, and rich vegetation of the abbey grounds. Inside the main structure she could hear sounds of creatures talking and laughing and eating. "Come on," said Zulen, "I'm hungry, even if your not. Though you look like you haven't eaten in days." "I haven't," Maiko replied ruefully. These creatures were so kind. The Silverstar were generous, to a certain extent, but the tribe had to be cautious. They would give travelers provisions and directions to wherever they were headed, but didn't encourage them to stay for breakfast. The air inside the abbey was pleasantly cool and quiet. Dust motes danced in the shafts of light that filtered through the high stained glass windows, coloring the floor red and blue and green. A huge female badger greeted them. Maiko had never before seen a full grown badger, and suddenly, for the first time in her life, she felt very small and insignificant compared to the giant creature. "Who's this friend you have brought, Zulen?" she asked with a smile. Zulen grinned back. "Kubrin and I saw her heading here through Mossflower. Her name's Maikolar, Maiko for short." "Welcome to Redwall, Maiko," the badger said warmly. "I am Nelfa. This is a place of peace and friendship; you may stay here for as long as you like. I see from your weapon that you must be a warrior of the Silverstar, the squirrel tribe of the Eastern Hills. Our recorder and scholar Ivre would love to speak with you. But enough of my chatter. You can talk to Ivre over breakfast." Breakfast. What a lovely word. As Maiko thought this, her deprived stomach gave a loud rumble. Zulen began to chuckle, then all four dissolved into helpless laughter. Breakfast at Redwall was the most wonderful meal Maiko had ever had. Not just the food, which was the best Maiko had ever tasted, warm oatmeal, crystallized fruits, fresh mint tea, and hot scones dripping honey, a major difference from the roots, edible fungus, stream water, and occasional seeds or berries the squirrel was used to. It was the talk, too, the friendship and good humor. The old mouse gatehouse keeper Ivre sat next to her. "I've heard of the Silverstar," said Ivre, "and their great library. I would love to travel there, but I am too far in my seasons." He sighed. "What is your family and status? From what I've read that's important for Silverstar, though forgive me if I assume wrongly." Maiko smiled at him. "It's fine. I tried to tell Kubrin and Zulen but they didn't understand." She repeated what she had told the mouse and squirrel. Ivre frowned. "Serrinay?" he asked.

At the mention of her mysterious father, Maiko's good cheer faded away. "He disappeared," she said quietly. "Five seasons ago, he should have returned from his blademark quest. Sometimes questers don't return. I just never thought my father would be one of them." Ivre stared at her. "Five seasons ago," he said as quietly as she had. "A Silverstar squirrel who had lost his swordspear came to our abbey. His name was Serrinay."