4.

Northland Lament

"Phew matey, scorcher today. Aren't you glad I told you not to wear your armor to that feast?"

Martin rolled his eyes at his fun loving friend and played along.

"Aye, twisted my paw you did after all my begging and pleading to wear that lot. I am truly blessed to have such a wise and caring thief as a friend."

"So you should be," chuckled Gonff. They had returned to Redwall after Log-a-Log's feast three days ago. The same unyielding spring had matured into an unbelievably hot early summer at Redwall. The skies showed no hint of moisture and the Abbey was starting to feel the effects of its first major drought. The crops were still growing under the tender care of the abbey beasts, but only just. Abbess Germaine had declared that water was only to be used for essential cooking and farming needs. The Dibbuns had immediately rejoiced with the prospects of bath time put on hold. Still, even with water rationing the crops were beginning to take on a decidedly unhealthy wilted look to them. Martin's eyes were full of concern as he inspected a stunted strawberry bush.

"We need rain Gonff. Foremole hasn't the crews to continue with the construction. With Dinny out at the quarry overseeing that project we just don't have the beasts needed to dig trenches from the pond to the orchards. All other beasts are either sick from the heat or assisting in construction somehow. We could be faced with a full sick tent before the infirmary is even built."

"Oh nonsense," said Gonff off-handedly. "As long as everybeast keeps on that work, swim, relax, and repeat routine you've drilled into us all we'll be fine." Gonff skipped around his warrior friend playing a few playful measures on his flute. Martin only grunted as he continued his inspection of the grounds. Seeing his friend not responding to the merry voice of his flute Gonff skipped off in search of his wife. He found her just finishing putting away the remains of lunch. Sneaking up behind her, the Mousethief swept her off her footpaws and started singing as he twirled her around, much to Columbine's delight.

"The summer's here,

The wind is hot,

But do not fear,

Oh worry not.

The Prince of Thieves

Has told the sun,

Go down, oh please,

At least the moon is made of cheese."

"Silly mouse, the moon's not made of cheese," said Columbine, laughing at her husband.

"And how would you know that oh flower of my eye? It looks like cheese; I'll bet it would taste wonderful with a nice strawberry cordial."

"Put me down this instant you silly beast, or try finding tea time scones on your own."

Gonff gave her a final twirl and gently set Columbine back down. "That's better," she said.

"Scone's for tea you say m'dear? And you won't tell an honest thief where they're hidden? Oh woe is me; I shall perish for lack of sustenance this day!" Gonff put on a fine show of playacting his distress. "Ahoy Skipper, you have seen the last of this one. The scones are hidden from all; we shall surely starve for lack of food."

Skipper of Otters and his crew were just passing. The burly otter chief was busy directing the placement of a stack of floorboards soon to be sent to the half-finished dormitories when he heard Gonff call out. "What are you talking about matey? I just saw a huge pile 'o scones sittin' in the far back kitchen cupboard with a special 'For Tea' tag on 'em." Seeing Columbine's horrified expression he turned beet red. "Oh I'm sorry Miss Columbine, per'aps I shouldn'ta said that."

Columbine quickly grabbed hold of her husbands paw as he had started moving towards the Abbey door. "That's quite alright Skip. I have a whole host of chores to keep this one busy. Please carry on with those floorboards."

Laughing at Gonff trying, and failing, to escape his wife Skipper turned back to his otter crew. "Right you are marm. Good luck with that 'un."

"Chores? What do you mean by chores m'darling?" Gonff was still trying to make a break for the kitchens.

"You can tell me what has gotten into Martin since we all came back from Log-a-Log's feast. He's been acting very strange."

Gonff gave up struggling and turned to his pretty wife. "Oh it's just this infernal heat. It's got us all acting odd. Why just now I saw a pretty mouse keep another roguishly handsome and valued member of the Abbey from a decent afternoon tea. Imagine that, a beast not been fed in this place. Hardly seems fair now, doesn't it."

"Yes this drought has been affecting us all. But as for you sir, you have a job to do. The lunch dishes need scrubbing and it's your turn. Now hop to it."

Gonff took one last look at the Abbey door before he started picking up the lunch dishes and, bringing them to the side of the pond, began to scrub out with sand. Columbine joined him shortly to help. She couldn't help but think it wasn't the heat but something else that was troubling the mind of Martin.

Emalet flew high over the parched woods. Beginning her search from what used to be Pollekin's tree, the good molewife having gone to her peaceful rest long before trouble plagued the north, she flew straight south. Stopping only to east, rest, and ask after Martin with any creature she came across. Owing to her gift of flight she was able to cover distances much faster than anybeast could walk. Three days after she left Noonvale she reached the far northern edges of Mossflower. Sensing the tell tale odor of a cook fire she winged her way to a small group of voles who squeaked in fright at her sudden appearance.

"Please do not be afraid. I will not harm you," she said. "I seek a mouse called Martin the Warrior, son of Luke. Have you heard of him?"

The old grizzled leader of the vole tribe stepped forward. "That we 'ave owl. Who 'asn't heard 'o Martin."

Emalet immediately pressed for further details. "Oh please sir, tell me where I can find him."

"Go straight south down the path. Twill lead ye to the Abbey of Redwall. I'm sure…"

Emalet did hear the rest of the words of the vole. She took off flying as fast as she could for Redwall.

Martin the Warrior lay dreaming. Sine his battle with Tsarmina he had lost many memories of time before coming to Mossflower. Images that were almost familiar to him filled his dreams, surrounded by grey mist. A fallen sycamore tree, a tunnel through a great lone mountain, the spray of plunging down a raging waterfall, the tune of a song but no lyrics, and a single red rose all filed past his mind.

Martin woke in a cold sweat breathing hard. Looking about he saw only the plain red walls of his small room in the gatehouse. Rubbing his eyes he tried but failed to remember the dream that had caused him to wake so suddenly. It had vanished like some on the wind, except for the image of the single red rose. Looking into the depths of his heart, Martin found the memory of one no battle wound could ever tear from him. As it always had, the memory of the love he had lost threatened to overwhelm him. Only by concentrating on the life Martin knew she would have wanted him to live and the happiness she had brought him, in their short time together, was he able to recompose himself.

Leaving the gatehouse Martin walked over to the Abbey pond. The night air was cool and gentle on his sweat drenched brow. The moon cast its silver reflection on the wavelets that lapped against the shore. Taking the smallest possible pawful of water he could Martin washed the sweat from his fur. Emalet landed silently behind him.

"Excuse me sir. Could you please tell me where I might find Redwall Abbey and a mouse called Martin the Warrior, son of Luke?" Martin turned around quick as a flash. While the bird was powerfully built Martin sensed no danger from the owl and greeted her warmly.

"You have found Redwall marm. I am Martin. How may I help…," Martin's voice trailed off as he looked at the owl. The sight of her had caused his dream to come back to him. Martin began to stagger as he shook his head, trying to clear his mind of the avalanche of misty images.

"You may not remember me, but I remember you Martin. I am Emalet, daughter of Boldred the Mapmaker, who once led you to Noonvale."

At the mention of the hidden valley the memories did overwhelm Martin. He fell to the ground as wave after wave of images from the past returned to him. Martin clenched his head between his paws as he relived the events of that summer so long ago. Finally his considerable self control won out. Looking up at the owl from his knees, and panting slightly, he addressed the owl.

"By the fur you know how to rile a beast's mind Emalet."

"Not my intention I assure you. But I do bring dire news. You must return to Noonvale."

"Never!" shouted the Warrior. "I can never show my face in that valley again!" Martin shocked himself at the hostility of his words. New waves of grief swept through him as he imagined the reception that would await him if he did return. The pain he had caused that peaceful land was almost as great as the pain of loss he felt himself, Martin was sure of it.

"I cannot say I was not expecting such a reaction. But I must insist we are in great need of…."

Emalet was cut off from renewed shouts from Martin. "Noonvale has no need of me! One who only brought death and pain to that place! Leave this place Emalet. Noonvale has no place for me." Martin then turned and ran back to the gatehouse and slammed the door behind him.

Emalet stared after the mouse as he ran off. She was just about to fly off to deliver the sad news when a gentle voice from behind called to her.

"You certainly have a way of upsetting our Warrior." Emalet turned and found herself face to face with Columbine who had woken at the sounds of Martin's shouts. "In all the season's I've known him I have never seen Martin act in such a way? What's wrong?"

Emalet bowed to the kindly mouse. "My good lady it is not my place to tell any secrets that that Warrior might be carrying. Still I will let you know this. Where I come from Martin is a hero, a mouse remembered as the bravest of the brave and champion to all. We are in dire need of his help. If there is anything you can do, please help me. Take this, it might help." Emalet gave Columbine the token she had been given and then flew off to roost for a much needed rest.

Martin slammed the door shut behind him and flung himself on his bed. Hot tears rolled down his face as he relived that moment in Marshank over and over again. The hollow thunk as Rose hit the wall, his wild scream as he flung himself from the battlements at Badrang, the pure hatred coursing through him as he plunged the sword of Luke into his foe's heart, the shame that had made him pass out as he realized he had broken the code of the warrior and taken another's life not in defense of others, but in vengeance for his own selfish reasons. A knock at the door made him look up.

"Martin it's Columbine. May I come in please?" Martin didn't answer her so she knocked harder and this time tried the door. Martin was glad he had locked it. "Of you don't open this door I'll open it myself. You know as well as I Gonff has taught me how to pick a lock." Martin groaned and got up. Wiping the tear stains from his face he opened the door.

"Columbine, please I wish no one with me right now."

"Martin if you were to see a beast look as you do right now, you would be at their side in an instant trying to help them. Let others extend you the same friendship."

Martin couldn't help but feel warmly at the kindness of Columbine. He opened the door and let her in. Martin lay back down on his bed staring at the ceiling as Columbine found a small stool and sat down. "Martin, you and I have known each other for a long time. I can tell there's something bothering you. I've seen it since you got back from Log-a-Log's feast, and now you start shouting at strangers to the Abbey. It's not like you at all. Please, what's wrong?"

Closing his eyes, the Warrior took a deep breath but stayed silent. Columbine tried again. "Martin I'm not leaving until you tell me what's wrong. If it's something you did, you can tell me. We all have done things we're not proud of. But it doesn't change who we are. We learn from our mistakes so we don't make them again."

"Columbine it's not a matter of mistake I made. It's a matter of honor and a vow I made long ago, to protect certain ones from harm" said Martin still with his eyes closed.

"Martin, your honesty and sense of what's right are what I admire most about you. But anybeast can see that whatever this is, is tearing you up. You need not fear any Redwaller harming anybeast you have sworn to protect."

Columbine's words washed over Martin like a dockleaf on a hornet sting. Martin sensed it was time to tell her of his true past. He sat up and looked at her for the first time since she had come in. "Columbine, you may have heard that I came from the far north and only journeyed south to Mossflower after I felt my father would not return from his war against the searats. That is not the whole truth of the matter. When I was young, just barely able to hold my father's sword, I was captured by a stoat called Badrang the Tyrant. When he captured me he stole my father's sword." Martin went on to tell Columbine the truth of his past.

When he was finished Columbine couldn't help but feel for her Warrior friend. "Martin, if we only ever knew we would have...," but she couldn't finish her sentence as she could not think of what she and the other Redwallers would have done had they known. She was too shocked at hearing Martin's words.

"Now, so long after that summer from out of nowhere Emalet arrives and asks me to return to that place. I could never return to the place where Rose lays buried. Her family must hate me for taking her to her death. I don't know which would be more painful, their shame in me for not protecting her, or losing her myself." Martin hung he head and tears fell down his face as once more his emotions overcame him.

Columbine placed a gentle paw on his shoulder. "Martin you must not blame yourself for Rose. It was not your fault she died. It was Badrang's. She died as much a warrior as you are. I know you would gladly lay down your life for those of us here at Redwall. She was doing the same that day at Marshank. And so much good came out of her sacrifice. Because of her you came here to Mossflower, defeated Kotir, and now Redwall is a lasting tribute to the peace that has been achieved. I'm sure she would have wanted you to lead a happy life, not morn so long because of a choice she made of her own free will."

Columbines words sparked something in Martin. The pain he had felt for so long was slowly lessening. His guilt melted away as he pondered what Columbine had said. She wasn't done speaking though. "Martin your friends from the north have honored your request for solitude for so long. I'm sure they wouldn't call for you unless there was good reason for it. Would you at least go back outside and talk to Emalet again." Martin nodded and followed Columbine outside.

While they had been talking the grey false dawn had come. The sky was beginning to brighten as the new day approached. Emalet had just woken when she heard the door to the gatehouse open and saw the two mice emerge. She heard Martin call her name and glided swiftly down to where he stood. Martin looked at her with new eyes as he addressed her.

"Emalet, I apologize for shouting at you earlier. It was rude and inconsiderate of me."

The owl bowed to the mouse and responded, "Not at all Martin. As I said I was expecting a similar reaction."

"You said you came here because Noonvale needs me. It has been many seasons since I left the north. Why does Urran Voh call me now? He must have heard of my vow to never return or speak of Noonvale again for fear of causing trouble to come there."

Emalet let out her breath as she replied. "Your vow has not been broken Warrior. Noonvale has never been troubled by anybeast looking for you. But we are still in need of a champion. Urran Voh has left us for Dark Forest. His last wish was to send for you and to say he bears you no ill will. Noonvale is under threat from a fox said to be dressed in black armor. This Rassk the Mask, as he is said to be called, never speaks and leads a horde so skilled in battle that although they number only thirty, they have never been defeated. Rassk is also rumored to be a master of the sword. He enslaves those he doesn't kill. You must remember the character of those at Noonvale. We could never stand against such an enemy.

"You are our only hope. In Noonvale you are not remembered as one who sent some of our best young friends to their deaths, but as the hero and champion who made sure none of our other creatures would fall under the heel of a cruel tyrant. We need the strength of such a champion again. You must understand we would not have called you unless we were absolutely certain of our need."

Martin stared at the ground upon hearing the new information. His relief that his vow had not been broken was tempered only his concern on hearing of the slavers. Suddenly his old sense of a warrior's duty leapt out at him. He looked up; eye's clear and on fire, as he spoke to Emalet.

"I will return to Noonvale Emalet. Fly back and tell them to keep a vigil for me. I leave as soon as I am able."

"Then I think you'll need this," said Columbine and she gave Martin the token from Noonvale.

A/N; So that was a nice long chapter. Took me over three hours to type and proofread. No mean feat when you do that at 1:30 in the morning let me tell you. To let you all know, yes all three of my stories so far have dealt with Martin, and two of them Martin/Rose. My previous two stories were written on impulse and were just typed out as I thought them up. I didn't really think about the plot line before I started writing and didn't do too much editing after I had written the words.

This story is different in that I am trying to think out the plot and characters before I put anything down. Hopefully it's making for a more interesting read. It's also the reason this chapter alone is longer than my other two stories. Comments are always welcome and thank you for reading.