Abbot Valentine was now pacing the wall, the wait for the messenger was almost too much for him. It was now late afternoon and he had not seen anything stir outside of the walls of the Abbey. Finally, he saw a ferret emerge. "Who goes there?" he shouted down.

Covered head to toe in bits and pieces of the horde's best armour (he had borrowed Dung's old breastplate, Durge's pauldrons and Footface's full-face helmet) Rotjaw made slow progress towards the red walls of Redwall Abbey. Armed with Bill's crossbow (he hadn't bothered to ask permission for it) in case he faced any opposition… and in case any adders were about… he shouted up at the walltops, eager to get this over with. "I, ROTJAW AM HERE FOR YOUR REPLY TO OUR GENEROUS AND FAIR TERMS OF SURRENDER!"

The Abbot smiled, about time he thought. Behind him, Phyllis was silently approaching. "On behalf of every beast here we surAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA."

The abbot had no chance to finish as Phyllis picked him up and threw him over the wall at a tree. The sound of him hitting the tree was enough to tell any near him that he was going to be very, very sore if not dead. To make matters worse a hawk promptly swooped by and picked up the Abbot's prone form.

A bunch of boring stuff happened in the abbey afterwards but we're gonna skip right over that, because like I said- it was all super boring and irrelevant to my tale.

The hawk spent a brief, but enjoyable flight tossing the helpless vole high into the air, only to effortlessly and expertly catch him again. His vision was superb! His reflexes, excellent! The abbot likely, was having significantly less fun than he was, but Ace Murderbird didn't care about the petty complaints of a preything. So with very little gravitas and insultingly little care the hawk flew low and unceremoniously dumped him at the feet of his mother.

"I take it you won't be surrendering then?" Harlapple said, leaning against a tree and taking a casual chomp out of an apple.

"Please, if you are going to end me, do it now…... I am is so much pain." Valentine replied with a groan. "I was going to surrender, but that temperamental squirrel threw me over the wall and declared no surrender."

Death would have come as a great consolation prize for the old Abbot...

"I can eat!" Ace Murderbird announced, his beak spreading into a wide grin.

"Have this then," Harlapple tossed the apple high, watching with some pride as the hawk hopped up to catch it in his beak. The mouse frowned down at the abbot. "Killing you might serve me better in the long term, but you're no good to me dead."

"Oh, joy." The abbot said sarcastically.

"Oh get up you old crone," Harlapple prodded the prone vole with the sharp point of his tail spike. "Or do I have to fetch somebeast from the camp to carry you?"

"With the way my back is, the latter. You try walking away after being thrown at a tree." Valentine groaned. He had no will to move from that spot.

"I'll pass." Harlapple shook his head. "You seemed so in control the last time we spoke. Guess you couldn't keep your riff-raff in line." The mouse sighed. "This makes things more difficult, but it's sad to say I'm not really surprised. Ace? Get Dung, will you?"

The hawk, having finished his snack, spread his wings wide.

"And please refrain from eating my hordebeasts. Lackfoot's foot never grew back."

Cowed, the avian set off with a great flap of his wings.

A short while later, an intact Dung came screaming down to meet them. Harlapple stepped out of the way of the falling shadow, unwilling to let the morning's incident repeat itself. It was Valentine who broke the fat rat's fall.

Oblivious to the vole he'd slammed into, Dung shot to his feetpaws, his eyes wide and shaking with terror. "B-b-boss! D-der's a b-bird!"

Ace landed behind the warlord, promptly saluting. "Ace Murderbird has brought you Dung, Mummy! And didn't eat anyone!"

"No way, a bird. Who would have thought there to be a bird in a forest?" Val quipped.

"I know there's a bird," Harlapple frowned. "Dung, meet Ace Murderbird. Ace Murderbird, Dung." Noting his subordinate's continued look of terror, the mouse went on. "Don't worry I'm not going to feed you to him. I just need you to carry the vole." He reached out a paw to stroke the trilling hawk, who bent forwards to recieve his daily dose of parental affection. "You've done well Ace. Mummy's proud of you."

Valentine groaned, his back was even worse than it was before.

"Right." Dung swallowed. "Carry the vole. I-I can do that boss!" With very little care for comfort he grabbed Abbot Valentine by the tail and slung him over his shoulder. "T-t-te the c-camp, right?"

"Of course," Harlapple said absent-mindedly scratching the large avian's neck. "I'll be with you in a moment." He smiled down at the bird. "Now, you know how my mother gets around you. Stay out of sight, behave yourself and I'll bring you dinner in a few hours, alright?"

A quick 'Yes Mummy!' later, Ace shot into the treeline and Harlapple followed along in the path Dung's feet had forged through the forest floor.

Dung arrived in the camp a short while later, still shell-shocked from his impromptu flight. Skunksnot pattered towards him, his eyes bulging as sweat dribbled down his face. "D-Dung! D-didjer see the bird?"

The rat nodded vigorously. "A-aye! Snatched me up an' everythin'." Dung swallowed. "But 'is okay, is okay! It's de boss's bird."

"De boss got a bird?" Skunksnot cocked his head to the side.

"Oh, aye. Ace Murderbird." Lackfoot swallowed, and eyed his new peg-leg. "He's nice."

"The important thing is that my mother doesn't find out." Harlapple snapped, appearing behind them and making the vermin trio jump. "So. Not a word of this to anybeast, or I feed you to him. Understood?"

The trio nodded. "Good." Harlapple clapped his paws together. "Good news and bad news my friends. Redwall will not be surrendering." The three gave a collective groan. "But. We have their abbot!" A ragged cheer as Dung lifted the groaning Valentine by the tail for all present to see.

Mama Apple, who had heard the commotion and was passing by, promptly dropped the teapot she was carrying. "Valentine?"

He looked up at her "Basilea?"

Harlapple blinked. "Mother? Y-you know the abbot?"

"Put him down this instant!" Basilea roared, storming over in one of her rare tempers.

Dung, fearing for his life, promptly let go of the vole and stepped backwards.

He hit the ground and groaned "I guess I deserve this… sigh… So, This boy is yours?" he said cocking his head in the direction of Harlapple.

Mama Apple allowed herself to smile. "Why yes, he is. The apple of my eye." She promptly snatched the confused Harlapple by the ear and twisted sharply. "What were you doing to him?"

"OW! Mother! N-nothing!" Harl winced as she twisted still more tightly still. "The Redwallers threw him out and I brought him here! That's all!"

"More like a squirrel threw me over a wall, at a tree. Your boy 'picked' me up and then dropped a fat rat on me." Valentine scowled. "Don't worry, Basilea, the last part was probably an accident."

"Be glad you're still alive!" Harlapple snarled, only for Basilea to twist harder still. The warlord winced, effectively silenced.

"Well, well, well," the old mouse chuckled. "It's been a while!"

"Indeed it has! How have you been, my dear? The last time I saw you, you were young and restless; searching for adventure."

"Oh adventure, that was such a long time ago. I see you succeeded in becoming Abbot!"

Metaphorically scratching the top of his head, Harlapple made his way over to Snowbelle's tent. He burst in without fanfare. "Did you know mother was from Redwall?" He was still reeling from the shock, and with nobeast else to confide into he turned, yet again, to Snowball. "B-because I didn't!"

The squirrelmaid, face blank with confusion, sat up, paws still covered in charcoal. "Your mum…is from Redwall?" she furrowed her brow. "Of course I dinnae know, how could I? I only arrived there five seasons back!"

"Yes, yes, I know that. But I was just wondering i-if she told you." The mouse began to pace the room. "She didn't tell me, and she usually tells me everything, you know? But your Abbot's here now and all of a sudden they know each other? I-it just doesn't make any sense!" He rubbed at his face. "And her name is Basilea?"

"Perhaps she dinnae tell ye because ye were so dead-set on takin' the place over," she offered, pulling her knees to her chest and resting her chin on them. "Dinnae want tae crush your dreams or something like that."

"This was her idea!" Harlapple spluttered, tugging at his ears.

Snow''s face hardened. "Dinnae expect tae hear that…"

"If it's any consolation I think she'd think twice if she knew you were here." He frowned, pausing to contemplate the squirrel. "She always did prefer you."

Barking out a bitter laugh, Snowbelle flicked her brush. "As if. Ye were the one who got whatever ye wanted." Sorrow weighed heavy on the young healer's shoulders. "Now what? I feel like…everything I know has been nothing but lies and fabrication. I…I canne even trust my own memories anymore."

"How do you think I feel? Redwall, Redwall, Redwall. Why did she never tell me she was from Redwall!"

"Why are ye asking me?! Ask her! She's your mum after all!" Snow replied as though speaking to a Dibbun. "Maybe try communicating with her…I canne read minds, ye ken."

"Well I already tried that," Harlapple snapped. "And all she did was twist my ear!"

She snorted, covering her mouth with a sooty paw. "Well about time somebeast did!"

"Not funny Snowball! My ear still hurts. She's got a mean pinch." He rubbed absent-mindedly at the ear. "But still… Redwall. I-I think I need a nap."

"Of course ye do, ye giant Dibbun," she huffed.

Harlapple scowled. "Well forgive me for venting, but I just realized my whole life was a lie thank you very much! Why do I even bother with you?"

"Because no other beast will listen tae ye?" she quipped impishly. "Because ye dinnae have any friends?"

Harlapple was rendered momentarily speechless by her words. They cut far too deep for his liking… A sudden thought occured to him, however, and Harlapple smiled. "Maybe not, but I have a son. Would you like to meet him?"

"Oh? Milo?" she snapped. "Did ye brainwash the poor babe already?"

"Well, two if you count Milo." Harlapple shrugged. "I have an older boy. Very big. Very strong. Interested?"

"Definitely not your child then," she snorted, flopping onto her back and gazing at the ceiling. "Where'd ye kidnap this one from? Oh, dinnae tell me…...ye took him from his parents as they screamed for mercy, their town burning around them, but hey, at least ye saved the babe! What a hero ye are!"

"I think you would very much like to meet him." Harlapple's grin was impish. "Now, you can walk with me, or I can have Slopgut drag you by the tail. He's a bit shy. Doesn't like to socialize with the rest of the horde."

"I'd like tae walk around bit," Snow sighed, rolling over and pushing herself upright. "No risk of me running, my footpaw's still badly hurt."

"Well then!" Harlapple removed her bindings and swept the tent flap aside. "Ladies first."

She narrowed her eyes. "I'm not stupid enough tae let ye walk behind me, Apple."

The mouse shrugged. "Suit yourself then. Just know that if I ever stab you it will be from the front." And with that he lead the way out the tent.

"There, I think we're far enough now." Harlapple whistled shrilly, before jabbing his snout at the bouquet. "He loves flowers. Ace! There's somebeast I'd like you to meet!"

The cry of a raptor echoed through the empty woodland.

The sharp cry sent a twinge of fear through her, her eyes widening. "Is that…a hawk?"

"Sounds like one." Harlapple replied, not at all concerned.

Her paws began to tremble, nearly causing her to drop the bouquet. "W-why is there a hawk?" she asked shrilly, as the shadow overhead grew ever closer.

"Well, birds do live in forests." Harlapple pointed out.

"Stop it!" her voice broke as she pressed herself against a tree to hide. "Stop it, this isn't funny!" Memories flashed before her eyes as she collapsed in panic, her body shuddering with terror. Again, the bird circled. She had been fleeing it for days now, through the desert and to the snow-capped mountain where she was now. Though her white fur helped her to blend in, the cold was inhospitable. The frightened maid could no longer feel her footpaws– they were too frozen, and her paws had turned purplish with the weather. The wind battered her mercilessly, sending her flying down the mountainside. With a shriek, Snowbelle scrambled for something– anything– that would give her some form of purchase. Finally, she found a rocky outcrop and clung to it, sobbing, her tears freezing as they were blown from her fur. So tired…so exhausted. She could only stare up at the huge bird as it swooped upon her. The scream of terror that ripped from her throat was drown out by the unforgiving howling of the wind.

"Calm down," Harlapple insisted, sharing a look of confusion with his avian offspring. "He's not going to hurt you. Ace here is the creature I was telling you about." A sly grin spread across the mouse's features. "My big, strong son."

"Ace Murderbird!" The hawk grinned, thrusting a set of talons at the squirrelmaid in hope for a pawshake. "Pleased to meet'cha!"

Snow scrambled back, her breath coming in hoarse gasps. "What?!"

"Don't you remember anything?" Harlapple shook his head in exxasperation. "That egg we found?" The mouse gestured at the still-grinning hawk. "All grown up now."

"It was a hawk egg?!" she exclaimed in fright. "I-I thought it was a-a sparrow…or a songbird!"

"Nope! Though he does love a good lullaby." Harlapple reached up on tip-paw to scratch the hawk's chin. "Don't you my lil' Floofball?"

"Yes! Oh yesyesyes!" The hawk nodded enthusiastically. "I love it when mummy sings!"

She blinked, shaken from her fear at the sheer notion of Harl singing. "I forgot ye could sing…"

"Well," Harlapple felt himself go pink. A sensation he hadn't felt in seasons. "Most warlords didn't sing their horde to victory. I-it's not something I do often. B-but Ace liked it. Couldn't sleep without a song or two, the rascal."

The hawk gave the warlord an affectionate nip. "Mummy sings like angel mouse."

Somehow even more puzzled, Snow stood shakily, reaching out to gently touch the bird's feathers. "Bet I could out-sing him in a heartbeat," she joked softly, steering clear of the hawk's wickedly curved beak.

"Snowball, nobeast takes bets they can't win," Harlapple teased. He jabbed at her with his tailspike. "Singing is for girls anyways."

"That thing is actually sharp y'know."

"Just like my beak!" Ace Murderbird giggled, clacking it.

The warmonger in question was delighted by the way his afternoon was going so far. Yes, there was still the sting of his pulled ear, and yes, he had a lot of questions for his mother. But the rosy tint of nostalgia was clouding his vision now. It had been so long since the squirrel had left... he had forgotten how much he had missed her. A sudden thought occured to him that would no doubt make the afternoon even more memorable. "Would you like to go for a flight?" He asked, offering Snow a smile.

The squirrelmaid stumbled back, eyes wide in fright. "A-are ye mad? No!"

"Yes you would!" Harlapple's smile spread into a grin. "You have no idea what you're missing!" The mouse had made up his mind now and clambered onto the hawk's awaiting shoulders.

"I will fly slowly," Ace Murderbird promised, wearing a grin as wide as his mummy's!

Snow turned swiftly and started to run, her heart pounding. No way was she going up there! Her footpaws belonged on the ground or in the trees, not in the sky!

"You really shouldn't run!" Harlapple rubbed at his forehead. Why doesn't she ever play along? "You'll only hurt your footpaw more!"

Ace Murderbird looked crestfallen. "Why's she scared Mummy?"

"She spooks easy." The mouse replied with a sigh. "Be a good boy and catch her, will you?"

With a might caw the hawk shot into air, the comparatively tiny mouse clinging on for dear life as the raptor sped off in the direction fo the fleeing squirrel.

Seeing the shadow of the raptor over her, Snow fell to the ground, freezing up in fear. She covered her head with her paws, trembling. No, no, please, just let me go!

With a well-practiced, delicate touch, Ace Murderbird snatched the squirrel up by the tail and tossed her high into the air. He circled the spot, until a soft thump and a minor increase in weight told him she had landed safely on his back. The hawk slowed down after that, gliding through the treeline as gently as he could.

Harlapple gave the squirrel a grin, turning to face her. "You really don't make things easier for yourself, do you?"

Snow buried her face in the bird's feathers, gripping them in a death grip of sheer panic. "I told ye no! This is why I dinnae like spending time with ye as a babe! Ye never listened tae me when I said no!"

"And aren't you glad?" Harlapple gestured towards the waning sun. "Look at the view, Snow. Isn't this amazing? You can see the whole of Mossflower from up here!" He scowled a little, noting her fear. "Come on Snow, there's nothing to be afraid of."

"No!" she sobbed, her voice muffled. "Let me down! Stop it! Ye've had your fun, please, I hate heights!"

"It was meant to be your fun, but fine." The mouse scoffed.

That didn't go very well...

"Ace, bring us down please." The hawk did as he was bid, and slunk back down under the treeline. He landed softly, clacking his beak as he did so.

"Ride over! Please fly with Ace Murderbird again!"

Harlapple slid off with practiced ease. "If it's any consolation Snow, you screamed a lot less than I did the first time."

"Mummy screamed a LOT", the hawk nodded vigorously.

Snow clambered off the bird's back, her face soaked in tears. "I hate ye, Harl! I hate ye, I hate ye!" Her entire body was trembling violently. "I said no, does that mean nothing tae ye?! And ye wonder why I ran away!"

Ace Murderbird glanced from one small woodlander to the other, not sure what he was supposed to do.

"Well sorry, I just thought it would do you some good!" He jabbed his tail-spike in her direction. "This is a once in a lifetime kind of thing Snowball, not many hawks will let you ride them, y'know. Unless it's from the inside, anyways." He rubbed his face in his paws. "Okay, fine then. I'm sorry, and it won't happen again. Happy?"

"You're such...you're such a prat!" she shouted, her legs giving way under her. "The only true apology is changed behavior! Which ye'll never do! Because ye dinnae have the capacity tae change because ye dinnae care enough about other beasts tae do it! Ye'd likely have tae lose ever single memory ye ever had tae ever be anybeast else but a selfish, manipulative git!"

"Hey!" Ace Murderbird snapped. "That's my mummy you're talking to!" The hawk wrapped his wings around the warlord and squeezed Harl tight against his cheek. "And my Mummy is the nicest, kindest, sweetest thing in the whooooole world!"

"I hate tae tell ye, Ace, but your mummy is a horrible mouse , horrible mouse! Ye and his mum are the only beasts he's ever been a little nice tae and it's because he's using ye both!" With that, Snow pushed herself upright and stormed back towards the camp.

Ace blinked, his eyes narrowing at the squirrel's hurtful words. "I don't like her Mummy. She's got a mean streak." He blinked again, slightly concerned. "Y-you're not just using me right?"

"Of course not," Harlapple patted the wings still holding him in place. "Mummy loves you Ace and he'll be back tommorow." The mouse sighed, his ears drooping in misery. "It's late, I should head back to camp. Sleep well Floof."

"Will do, you too Mummy!" And with a great flap of his wings the hawk took off, leaving the warlord to forge the lonely path back to his camp alone.