Back at Redwall, Sister Ellie silently closed the gatehouse bedroom door. She had finished with her patient. It had been the most serious case she had ever dealt with, but she had confidence that her work was good enough. She had carefully moved the nameless mouse to the back room and onto Barley's bed. She knew the old gatekeeper wouldn't mind. The mouse had not regained consciousness since Skipper had arrived with him. Maybe it was for the best though, Ellie thought. The lingering pain would be bad enough when he awoke. If he ever did wake up.

The Sister sighed. Nothing more could be done except to wait and see if his condition improved. She carefully packed up her healing supplies, washed her paws in the basin by the door, and headed outside. It was now well after midnight, but Ellie could still hear voices emanating from the Abbey the closer she got. As she pushed open the door, she saw that five of her friends were seated around a table in the middle of the main room.

"Ah, Sister Ellie," the Abbess stood. "Any news of our visitor?"

"Well," the squirrel cleared her throat, "I have high hopes he will live. He lost quite a lot of blood though, and I fear he may have lost his left eye; although it was difficult for me to tell at the time. I will have to examine it later to be sure. Also," she paused, "I had to amputate his right arm. The damage was too great, and I feared an infection might have developed. It was for the best."

"Hmm," Skipper scratched his chin. "Well, I suppose havin' one paw is better'n havin' none."

"Your logic is sound, Skipper," Brother Timeaus, a shrew, looked up from the large volume ha was studying. Timeaus, or Tim as he liked to be called, was Redwall's Recorder. He was very adept at finding the exact location in all of Redwall Abbey of any scroll, book volume, or map whenever they were needed. Tim could usually be found wandering aimlessly around the Abbey with his nose buried in some ancient book or scroll.

"Cornelius," Ellie turned to the mouse, "would you mind going out to the gatehouse and just keeping an eye on our friend?"

"Not at all Sister," he stood, bidding them all a good night. "I will let you know if his condition changes."

"Thank you Brother," the Abbess nodded and Cornelius took his leave of them. Ellie sat in the spot that he had vacated, noticing that there was a sword laying at the center of the table.

"Is that -?"

"Indeed Sister," Tim laid the volume he was hold down on the tabletop. "This belongs to the mouse who is currently occupying-I assume-Barley's bed in the gatehouse. This," he indicated the large book, "is Sister Lydia's account of her travels to the kingdom of Southsward. According to this, that blade is what is known as a katana, used by the King's royal guard."

"Wait, Southsward?" Ellie wasn't familiar with the name.

"Oh, yes," Tim sifted through a stack of old yellowing papers that were piled on the floor next to his chair. He handed her a very faded but still legible map. "This is Lydia's map of the route to the Southsward kingdom. As you can see, it is quite a lengthy journey; I would venture to guess at least a half-season's travel at best, possibly more."

Ellie carefully studied the map. It was very detailed, although the terrain was sure to have changed in the many seasons since it had been drawn. She was quite impressed, "this is almost as thorough as something you would do Tim."

The shrew blushed, "thank you Sister."

The small group fell silent for a few moments. Abbess Elizabeth broke the quiet, "Well, I suppose if that is all, we should try to all get some rest."

Ellie, who had been staring at the sword, reached for it, "Tim, may I please see the sword?"

The Recorder passed the blade to her, "It's a very well crafted weapon, but we didn't find any clues in or on it that might have revealed the identity of our mouse friend."

The Sister turned the katana over in her paws. Unsheathing it, she was surprised by its mirror-like surface. Something caught her eye then, "Tim, what's this here?"

She pointed to the bottom of the blade, near the hilt.

"Let me see," He took the sword, studying it closely, squinting. A minute or two passed while Tim continued his examination. His turned the sword this way and that, holding it at different angles in the torchlight.

"Well, what is it?" Barley had grown impatient.

"Oh!" the shrew laid the sword down and quickly started leafing through Sister Lydia's book. He stopped at a page that had strange writing on it, "here! This writing on the katana's blade is old Southswardian script. I don't know how we missed that earlier. Sister Ellie, you must have much better eyes than all the rest of us."

The Sister simply shrugged, "I just had a feeling that if I took a look at it, there would be something there."

"So," the Abbess leaned forward, "what does it say?"

"A moment, if you please," Tim held up a paw. He started scribbling on a small scrap of parchment with a stick of charcoal. "There, finished. I think I have translated the characters as accurately as possible. If I'm correct, the inscription reads, 'Ruka of Clan Swiftpaw – royal warrior'."

"So, our guest finally has a name," Ellie smiled. "Ruka the royal warrior."

Abbess Elizabeth looked at the tired faces of her friends, "I think that we have had our last revelation of the night. Let's all get some sleep and see if we can continue sorting this out in the morning."

They all retired for the remainder of the night, unaware that in Mossflower Wood danger was lurking ever closer.