Hello everybody!

First of all, thank you for your reviews, FerretWARLORD, Ireland Ranger, Lord Vrel, Whisper of Song and Lady Cosmic Brownie! I really appreciate it.

Disclaimer: I do not own Redwall (though that would be cool), but all characters in this chapter are mine!

Please read and review!

Sultana of North

II. Chapter I

Secrets, Rage, and Doubt

Visgar Fyre stormed across the campsite, roaring at the archers and troops, who, at the moment, were too frightened to complain over their splitting headaches. "You let her get away! Now who knows what she will do, eh? We are known as the Phantom Swords. And do you know why?"

He turned suddenly to one of his Captains, a wiry-looking fox named Risvall. The Captain, caught half asleep, stammered. " B-because, er, er, um, I-I-I er, we-" Fyre cut him short with a glare. "Listen, you brainless idiots! We are the Phantom Swords because we use cunning and guile to conquer and plunder. We are secrecy. We do not openly challenge them. In the night, we strike! And who is behind all this? I am! Nobody knows who we are. Nobody knows when we will attack. Nobody! I said, nobody! Now, what will that vixen do? She will spill our secrets to everyone who will give her something in exchange. She will, or I am not a fox, and much less Visgar Fyre!" He snarled demonically.

After a few moments, his demeanor altered. A fire burned in his eyes, and his shoulders sagged. " And also - things no creature - should know - the things I did - never-" He muttered incoherently. Fyre raised his head. "Where is my second in command? Yes, Gralvine. Now, out with you, everybeast! I need to speak to him alone!" All of the mercenaries rushed away to a second smaller campfire. Fyre grabbed Gralvine's shoulders and whispered, "Listen. We need to get that vixen, Sultana, back. And soon." Gralvine whispered back. "What shall we do then, Sir?" He asked, half nervous and sincerely glad not to be the object of Fyre' burning and determined rage. Fyre bared his teeth, as the fire rose in his eyes again. "We will hunt her down."

Sultana stirred. Where was she? Was she dead? That couldn't be. Somehow, dead wouldn't feel like this. She could hear what sounded like a heated argument a short distance away, and a rather distressed shouting. "Please, Prudence, Oak, Mr. Spike, break it up, or you will wake her. If you must quarrel, carry on somewhere else. But not in the Great Hall, it will echo throughout the abbey." A door slammed, and the quarreling grew more faint. A bitter tasting liquid was poured into her mouth, making her cough, but she managed to swallow it. Sultana opened her eyes. An old mouse with a kindly expression was standing over her. "I see you have come around. Good, good. Here, just a little more medicine " he gave her another spoonful of the dark liquid, while she took in her surroundings. She was in a spotlessly clean room, homey and comfortable, with clear morning sunlight pouring in through a window.

And… she was in a bed. She couldn't remember the last time she was in one. If she ever had been. To the fox clan, beds were a luxury unquestionably wrong to bring on their travels. Every night they slept where ever they could. In trees, on the dirt, on rocks, and even fresh, green grass was a luxury. In snow, in rain, in storms and in hail. And always, in freezing weather. They came from the cold north where sleepless nights were not unusual. This was a clean bed with soft white sheets faintly smelling of lavender.

She watched the mouse as he peered into a cabinet, muttering. "Hmm, perhaps I had better ask Prudence and the others to bring me some more horehound and St. John's wort, too. And dried mint from the cellars." He turned to Sultana. "You are safe and beyond harm now. This is Redwall Abbey."

Sultana nodded her head. Of course. She was in Redwall Abbey. Where else would she be? The mouse said, "My name is Brother Juniper. I am the Infirmary Keeper." Sultana smiled. " And my name is Sultana. It is nice meeting you, Brother." Juniper nodded. "Yes, same here. Well, I promised to tell the Abbot once you awoke." He shuffled out of the Infirmary.

He returned a few moments later with an elderly mouse in a dark green habit and spectacles. The Brother exited the room and closed the door carefully behind him, leaving the Abbot and Sultana alone. The Abbot seated himself in a chair beside the bed, and introduced himself. " Welcome to our Abbey, child. I am Abbot Bartholomew, but you may address me as Father. I must say, it is quite a mouthful. And what, may I ask, is your name?" Sultana answered, " Sultana. Just Sultana." The Abbot nodded, "Sultana, Brother Juniper will take you down to the Great Hall tonight for dinner. And please stay to speak with us after the meal. Juniper will explain. It is nice to see you in good health. I must go now." He left the Infirmary, and Juniper came in and shut the door behind him. Sultana gave him an inquisitive look. "Brother, why did the Abbot ask me to stay late after dinner?" She asked, slightly suspicious.

Were they really this kind to her? All her life, she was used to deceit and trickery. She rarely took part in it. Sultana despised sneaking up on innocent and peaceful creatures to rob and plunder. Killing without a rightful reason was beyond her. But she had grown up with that, and she had been taught that.

The Brother sighed. "Behind both questions lies the same explanation. Twice we have let a fox in out of kindness, and twice we have been met with thankless consequences. " He proceeded to tell of the times they let the fox in, with heartless results. Sultana nodded. They had met with the same cruel creatures that she had grown up with.

Juniper finished his tale. " And, Sultana, you are to stay late in the Great Hall, because they are debating whether or not to trust you or not. Now that you are strong and well, you could do considerable damage. Tonight we will decide if we will let you stay until you want to leave, or, have you leave." Sultana blurted out a question she could not hold back." B-Brother, do you trust me?" Juniper gave her a small smile. "I think I do, Sultana. I think I do."

Later that day, she arrived at the Great Hall with Juniper leading the way. It was the largest room she had ever seen. And the table, for her, was beyond words. The Phantom Swords clan almost never encountered any. The Abbot's chair stood at the head of the table. There appeared to be no specific order in which everyone sat. And the food looked truly delicious.

The rations she had known all her life were meager, whatever they could salvage from plundered homes or could pick off a plant. Or the occasional fish. Even if every stream and river they encountered were swollen with fish, they would most likely only come up with two or three, not only because of the clumsiness of the fisher, but also once the fish was caught, they would fight over the ownership of it, losing it in the squabble and frightening off every fish within thirty miles of the camp. After they had managed to lose the fish in the fight, Fyre would bang their heads together with an outraged curse, thereby scaring every fish within hearing range out of ten seasons of growth. She was an expert in edible plants and poisonous plants, and because of that, she was invaluable to the clan.

The food was spectacular. Long white baguettes, brown rye loaves and soft golden rolls with glazed crusts were just a few of the various breads. A number of different salads and a large black pot of steaming shrimp and hotroot soup in the center of the table completed the their fare.

Sultana was aware of the stares that followed her as she made her way to the table. Juniper guided her over to an empty seat next to the cook, Friar Thyme. The Brother lowered his voice." Here, Sultana, the Friar is a good creature, and does not have a short temper. " Next to the Friar was a large, lanky tan and white hare with rather large ears. One of them dipped comically as he spoke. "What ho, Thyme me old Friar chappy, would y'be so good as t' pass 'round some o' those scrumptious lookin' flippin' small round thingies ter a starvin' ol' regimental hare?" The Friar glared at him. " Those are not flipping small thingies, they are fresh baked honey rolls, and you are not a starving old hare! You have eaten four bags of candied chestnuts, and, lastly, no, I am not passing the rolls, the Abbot has yet to say grace!" Juniper gave a small laugh, which he managed to turn into an unconvincing cough.

After the Abbot said grace, they began dinner. The hare was passed his rolls, but not by the Friar; a small field mouse handed him the basket. Juniper said to her in a low tone, " That rabbit, or hare, as he prefers to be called is Colonel Terrin de Smythewhyte, is, er, very particular about his name. Only 'y' in the last name, not the first." Sultana nodded. " Colonel of the Long Patrol? Yes, I have heard of him." Juniper gave her a questioning look. " Where?" Sultana answered. " A clan I traveled with used to speak of him." The Colonel turned at the sound of her voice, and glared at her frostily. "Hmm. Young fox gel. Y'don' go foolin' us w' any bally great flippin' lies, vixen." Sultana responded," Oh, but I did not say I was going to, rabbit." Terrin de Smythewhyte flared up. " it's hare, and y' jolly well know tha' y'great bush-tailed red bounder! And Colonel t'y', nice and respectful like. An' Smythewhyte is spelled with y and not i." Juniper gave her a meaningful look as Terrin huffed indignantly through his whiskers.

Friar Thyme noticed Sultana for the first time, and watched her curiously as she helped herself to a bowl of soup. " That's all you are having? We have plenty more where it came from. Besides, you are so thin." He commented, pushing the bowl of hotroot soup towards her. "Here, take more, please…

By the time dinner was finished, Sultana had become friends with the Friar, who was continually encouraging her to take more. She felt better than she ever had. With the clan, she never had enough to eat her fill, and she never had a friend. The foxes and mercenaries where quite solitary, keeping mostly to themselves, and she had not wanted a friend from the clan. So she made it on her own. But here was different. Everyone respected their fellow creatures, and everyone was honest and hardworking. Very much unlike the Phantom Swords, who seemed to live for napping and fighting over possessions. She knew that most of the Abbey dwellers did not trust her. And she could see why. But maybe somehow she could convince them she was different, that she was trustworthy…

Then dessert was served. A blackberry tart was brought out, along with a meadowcream and cherry flan. The Friar, who had left to bring out the dessert along with his assistants, was beaming as he pushed the cart holding the tart over to the table.

Sultana stared. Somehow, to the Phantom Swords, sweets and pastries were almost unheard of. Occasionally, there were mint leaves to chew, or the plunder of a well-stocked home, that was all. And Fyre did not usually like to bring easily perishable food with them, but if he was in a good mood, perhaps they might add pastries to their stock. Fruit was not easy to come by in the north, because of the cold climate. Eventually, one winter, because of the complaints and inevitable death by starvation, Fyre moved the clan to better climate and more fruitful robbery expeditions. That was how they came to Mossflower country.

Thyme sat down beside Sultana, and told her, " That tart is actually a recipe from my great-grandmother. She loved cooking, and baking in particular. And the flan is a secret recipe of Waterweed, that young otter across from Colonel Smythewhyte. I am surprised she tolerates that feedbag. Always trying to coax an extra serving of anything from the cooks." Sultana glanced at Terrin. "… a helpin' o' tha' jolly good flan from a charmin' otter gel? Couldn't bally well say no…" Stifling her laughter, she turned to the tart in front of her. The Friar was muttering as he helped himself to more flan. " Quite good, if I do say so myself. Personally, I'm surprised that it does not contain hotroot pepper… I thought almost any food had to have that pepper in it to be enjoyed by otters… but there are many things to be learned in this world…"

When dessert was over, the dishes and desserts cleared from the table, and the Dibbuns sent to bed, the comfortable, easy air about the room vanished, and the talk died down. Many of the creatures in the room fiddled with their whiskers or paws, avoiding glancing at the Abbot or Sultana. Others, such as Terrin de Smythewhyte, watched the Abbot expectantly. Finally the Abbot stood and cleared his throat. "Good creatures of Redwall Abbey, we are now gathered here on the account of a certain fox here, who goes by the name Sultana."

He glanced at Sultana, and the other creatures shifted in their seats to stare at her. She fidgeted with the sleeves of her borrowed habit, to avoid meeting their gaze. The Abbot continued. "As we are hospitable to everybeast who comes our way, we cannot deny her a place, if only temporary, at our abbey. Almost nobeast will harm the ones who wear the habit of our Order. Unfortunately, I say almost. Some who are heartless and cruel will indeed harm us. As was with a certain fox, whom we had taken in and cared for out of kindness, not even dreaming of harming him in any way, not wishing for any reward. But we were met with thankless consequences. The same fox's mother was a double agent. "

"So that is why we meet here. Anybeast who wants do speak, please do so."

Unsurprisingly, it was Terrin de Smythewhyte who stood up first. " Y'Abbotship, I b'lieve I will give a word or two. "

Juniper snorted. " More like a speech, no doubt about that. "

"Please do, Terrin de Smythewhyte. As an old friend of Redwall and Colonel of the Long Patrol, your opinion will be valued."

" Thankee, y' Abbotship Barty. Havin' dealt wi' th' bally creatures me very own self a few times, they 'ave a tendency t' be cunning and tricky. Never known a jolly individual ter be kind, but that never means there ain't a bally nice 'un, wot? But they c'n lie smoothly, too true. B'careful with the vixen, that is all I'll say now, wot, wot?" He waved his ears about in a ceremonious manner, then settled down in his chair.

A hedgehog stood up and banged a clenched fist upon the tabletop. " I don't b'lieve in a fox stayin' at our Abbey. They aren't to be trusted. Foxes are sly, cruel and heartless. This was demonstrated years ago, afore mentioned by Father Bartholomew.

" So, why should we trust this fox? Only 'cause she claims t' be trustworthy doesn't truly mean she is, eh? I'll stick with my beliefs. There shouldn't any foxes here, and – Hey!"

A young mouse was holding his arm and shaking it. " Oooh, you old spikedog! Merely because there was one fox out to trick us does not mean every fox is! And the fox you are complaining against can hear every word you say!"

Juniper let out a loud laugh, which he immediately turned into a cough as everybeast turned to stare. He nudged Sultana and whispered. " That hedgehog, he likes being addressed as ' Mr. Spike', and the mouse is Prudence. Haha, she's a good one, hehehoho!" he stifled his laughter quickly.

Prudence sat back down, pulling Mr. Spike with her. Abbot Bartholomew took advantage of the short silence to address Sultana. " Is there anything you would like to say for yourself, Sultana? " She nodded and rose. All eyes were trained on her, with varying expressions. Some faces held the expression of doubt, some with loathing, like Mr. Spike, others were nervous or grim, some of them almost frightened.

"Good friends, you have shown me more kindness and hospitality than I have ever known. I wish to thank you for it.

"I have lived with a traveling clan of foxes all my life, for all I know. However, even if you allowed me to stay for as long as I wanted, I would have to leave."

A murmur of surprise arose from the listeners. She continued.

" The clan ruler is cruel and rules by making his mercenaries spend their waking hours in terror of their chief. Nobeast ever dared rebel; it meant certain death. I ran away from the clan. The plan had been quite secure. I always serve the mercenaries at mealtimes, which gave me a good plan. Put a compound of different sleeping herbs in their food while serving them. Nobody suspected anything, for the troops had an especially long day of marching, and had been complaining about weariness a while before their dinner.

"Unfortunately, the night watch did not take the required amount of herbs, for in a fit of temper he had thrown his food in another's face-"

More than one derisive snort escaped from the Abbey dwellers.

" - and at the time I was too preoccupied with another's serving to drug his next plate of food that the cook served him. And early that morning, before dawn, he witnessed me escape. The night watch alerted the ruler and awoke the troops. I did manage to get away, but now the clan chief will try to hunt me down. Dangerous for me to even tell you about this. What I have just related to you is my recent history."

The Abbot stood. "I see, Sultana. But how do we know this is true? How do we know the clan you speak of does exist? How do we know that the arrow in your shoulder was not from a woodlander protecting his home?"

Sultana blinked. How could she prove that the Phantom Swords were real? And that every word she said was true? Fyre was good at keeping the clan's secrecy. Too good.

But she had an answer. " Juniper, do you still have the arrow I was shot with?"

The Brother started, surprised at being added to the discussion so suddenly. "Er, why yes, I do, I'll go get it-" he left his seat and went to the Infirmary. Sultana sat back down to await his arrival.

When he returned with the arrow, she stood up again. Sultana held the arrow aloft. " This is an arrow from the fox clan. I can prove this. " She strode over to the Abbot's chair and handed it to him. " Father, please read the writing at the feathered end of this arrow." The Abbot obliged, putting on his spectacles and peering down at the shaft.

There, written along the white-feathered end of the arrow were the three words:

the Phantom Swords

The Abbot read the words aloud to the listeners. There was a collective gasp, then silence. Complete silence. The Abbot looked up. "Is this the clan you traveled with, Sultana?" Wordlessly, she nodded, her mind racing. What would happen next? Would they trust her now? Now that she had proved the clan had shot her? Would they find another place where the evidence was faulty? What next? No righteous fighters would name their band 'the Phantom Swords', would they?

A young field mouse rose, and broke the heavily hanging silence. " I-I-I d-do not see anything, erm, er, am-amiss w-with her t-t-tale, th-then." He stammered, appearing very unnerved at the fact that everybeast, even the Abbot, was giving him their full attention. " There is n-nothing we c-can say, er, er, against her, um, now. What I mean is-" he took a deep breath, his speech becoming steadier. " I mean that, ' the Phantom Swords' does not sound like a name belonging to any good creature's band. I am sure Sultana will be able to explain the name's meaning." he sat back down.

Sultana arose again. " I am. 'the Phantom Swords' are called such because of the secrecy they deal in. The ruler devises a secure plan, careful and without any loopholes. No outright attacks or loud challenges. He then acts upon it…"

She trailed off, and the Abbot stood. "Sultana, I believe you may leave now, and Brother Juniper will show you to your dormitory. We will make our final decision, and now I will wish you good night." He said kindly. Sultana felt relieved. They were not throwing her out this night. Fyre would definitely be out on the hunt tonight…

She was disrupted from her reverie when Juniper took her arm. "Come, Sultana. You must be tired. She nodded, and allowed herself to be led upstairs, but not before she had thanked the Abbot and wished him good night.

She lay awake for a while, memories swirling around in her mind, then in her dreams. Fyre roaring his troops on, a house on fire, herself coughing and choking from the smoke billowing in her direction, an otter running, and then…

She was back in the northlands. A corsair ship looming not very far off, Fyre and his best archers scattered, crouching behind rocks on a cliff over a rocky beach, the arrows fitted in their bows, bowstrings taut, then an arrow accidentally flew from a bow… the whole place exploding into uproar…a corsair spear flying over her head, shouts, roars, arrows and spears alike whistling through the air…then…the corsair ship was sinking…. Deeper…water filling it, up to the decks…screams split the air…Fyre laughing…

She started awake, shaking, with cold sweat beading on her forehead. Sunlight poured through her window, dappling the floors, and the sun rose among softly hued pink, orange and gold clouds. It was too early for the birds to begin to awake, so the Mossflower forest was silent. The tranquil pond was tinged with gold. She was in Redwall. For now, she was safe. For now. She dressed herself in the habit, then went downstairs.

Brother Juniper greeted her, and as she waved back to him, she felt light and glad.

There was one more day of peace.

Chapter II

One Last Day of Peace

Coming April 18, 2012!

Author's Note: Next chapter will be a bit shorter than this one, and Fyre starts his hunt. the 3rd chapter is when all the action starts to come in!

Once again, please read and review!