"A person who does not remember where they came from will never reach their destination." ~Filipino proverb.

"Jared. Madeline." Tipuka approached the Sandeyes after they had broken their hugs. "You two have some explaining to do."

"Yes, we do, Log-a-Log," Jared held one arm around his sister's waist. "But you do just as much." The teenage squirrel sounded oddly out of character and assertive.

"Mark well how you speak to me, boy," Tipuka clenched his fists and puffed out his chest, his voice rising. "You are in the domain of the Guosim! As Log-a-Log, I am the prime authority here!"

"I am the Crown Prince of Maraul!"

A reactionary silence fell across the shrews. All eyes stared at Jared. None could deny the anger and disappointment painted on his face.

"Crown Prince?" Tiraqoo dared shatter the silence, approaching the Sandeyes abreast of Tipuka. "What-what do you mean?"

"Look, it's all very logistical," Madeline held her cloth-wrapped palms up to pacify everyone. "All you need to understand right now is that we've tried to get your attention to help us against this conflict."

"But all you cared about were your Wungkan fights!" Jared shouted, raising his other arm in protest. "Don't get us wrong, we've enjoyed every minute of fighting as much as you have. We've had fun, and we learned a ton from all of you. We even got some great exercise in!"

He flexed a bicep as if to prove his words. "But this, what you witnessed and experienced just now…"

He jerked his thumb over his shoulder in the direction that Nagrig Deathblade and his soldiers had fled. "That is the real conflict! Out there! You ignored it in favor of your own indulgences. Maddie and I wanted to get your help against Nagrig Deathblade. But you didn't listen to us!"

"Now look!" Jacob interjected, his face a painting of cold fury. "The threat came right to your door and caught you unawares!"

"What if one of you had died today at Deathblade's paws?" Larina tapped her walking stick on the ground with fearless assertion. "What if Deathblade had decided to kill you, Log-a-Log Tipuka? Or Tiraqoo? Or Ruth? Or Remy? What would you have done then?" Jared stared sideways at Larina, impressed by her insistence.

Tipuka and Tiraqoo looked at each other, stammering, speechless.

"That's what I thought," Jared growled, clenching his fists. "Look, all this that Deathblade said about the Prophecy, the Eastern Islands, why he called us Tinarandel and Isidith; all of that can wait. I promise you. We will explain it as soon as we return to Redwall Abbey. But right now…"

He stood to his fullest height. "Redwall needs your help. Nagrig Deathblade is threatening to put our beloved sacred Abbey under siege. We need all the numbers we can get to stand up to him."

"Log-a-Logs, please," Madeline put her paws together, pleading. "Please see reason. We cannot fight Nagrig and his forces alone."

"Deathblade is building an army, made up of the combined forces of Morringtat, Sampetra, and Terramort Isle, and who knows how many others," Jacob counted off on his fingers. "Redwall's numbers will be powerless against his. It will fall under the might of the Scornful Tyrant if we don't do something about it."

"This…" Tipuka finally spoke up, looking back at the squirrels and wolf. "This is a lot to wrap my head around…"

"I know this is a lot to take in," Larina stepped up to place a paw of comfort on the Guosim's shoulder. "But do you really think we would tell you anything less than the truth?"

"No," Tiraqoo answered at length. "You wouldn't. You're right. They're right, Tipuka." He nodded at his fellow Log-a-Log. "We must help them. We didn't go to the threat, so the threat came to us. We must rise up and fight back."

"A threat to Redwall Abbey is a threat to all of Mossflower Woods," Gavlin stepped out of the crowd. "All these past seasons of peace have been shattered by Nagrig Deathblade's coming. I say we rise and come to Redwall's defense!"

He lifted a fist in the air. "Who's with me?!"

All the Guosim and Guoraf clamored as one. Tipuka nodded and punched his fist into his palm.

"All right," he told the Sandeyes, Jacob, and Larina. The latter removed her paw from his shoulder. "You've made your cases. We're on your side. I know it may take time for you to forgive us for our shortsightedness. But rest assured…"

He too lifted his fist in the air. His Githinsteel rings shook noisily on his wrist. "You will have the backing of the Guosim against this deadly threat! To Redwall and to Mossflower!"

"And the Guoraf, as well!" Tiraqoo lifted his beer mug beside Tipuka's fist. "Our numbers and skills in Wungkan are yours!"

"Seconded!" Tillie pumped her fist.

"Hoy!" The Guoraf declared in unison.

The Guosim and Guoraf erupted in deafening cheers. Jared and Madeline turned to Jacob and Larina.

"We haven't got a moment to lose. We need to get back to Redwall before Deathblade does. If today was any indication, he could launch his assault at any time."

"We'd better hurry, then," Jacob nodded. "I'll go get our bags from the changing room." He dashed off into the hallway.

Jared and Madeline changed out of their uniforms and back into their everyday clothes. All the shrews came to see the woodlanders off.

"I know you all can more than take care of yourselves," Tipuka advised, nodding at each of them in turn. "Jared, Madeline, Jacob. You've each proven your adeptness in Wungkan in turn. Miss Larina, you've especially proven that you can be an inspiring cheerleader. Know that we appreciate all you've done for the Guosim, the Guoraf, and especially, your friends."

"That being said," Tiraqoo stepped up abreast of the Guosim Log-a-Log. "I believe it would be best for you to travel back with allies. We can never be too careful, considering this new conflict in the form of Nagrig Deathblade. I propose we send some of our numbers to accompany you back to Redwall. Does that sound fair to you?"

"One Guosim and one Guoraf, I think," Tipuka nodded. He turned to face his shrews, and Tiraqoo did the same. "Laurel, how about you?"

"I'd be honored, Log-a-Log," Laurel put both hands to her waist and bowed graciously.

"Propose we send Antonius with the Sandeyes?" Tiraqoo posed to his Guoraf.

"Seconded!"

"Hoy!"

Antonius tailed Laurel across the hall to the Sandeyes. Laurel stood beside Larina, and Antonius with Madeline.

Jared suppressed a snicker at the blushes creeping up on the two teenagers' faces. Madeline averted her gaze from the shrew, rubbing the back of her head. Antonius too stared off to one side, clearing his throat and trying to appear dignified.

"Please give our very best to your Father Abbot," Tipuka told the foursome. "We'll join you back at Redwall before you know it."

"We'll be sure to let him know you're coming," Jared hefted his walking stick. His other paw laced with his sister's. "Come on, guys. Let's go."

He led the way back into the brush of the forest. The shrews waved until they were little more than shapeless specks in the distance.

"Isidith?" Jared stepped over a fallen log and came abreast of his sister. "Are you okay?"

Madeline turned at her brother's paw on her shoulder. She saw the concern in his eyes and heaved a painful sigh. They were now one day from Brockhall. Antonius and Laurel had shown them a number of useful shortcuts that significantly cut down the travel time.

"I mean after what…" Jared turned his words over and over in his mind. "Dragel…almost did to you."

They stopped within the brush. Jared led her back to the log that he'd stepped over, where they sat down together. Madeline shook her head and leaned into her brother. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

"He's a depraved, perverted, immoral monster," Madeline laid her head on her brother's shoulder. Jared felt the tangible anger in her voice, but said nothing. "I hope he gets what he deserves for what he tried to do to me."

"It's natural for you to want to feel angry, Maddie," Jared stroked his sister's face. "I know you want him to face justice. But wishing for revenge is only hurting yourself."

"Don't you want to get revenge on Deathblade for what he did to Mom and Dad?" Madeline lifted her head and furrowed her brow at her brother in angered confusion. "Or Adhuxnuo for murdering Edoran?"

"I didn't say that, Isidith," Jared did not raise his voice, nor did he stop stroking Madeline's face. "I want Deathblade to face justice as much as you do. I want to see Adhuxnuo punished, too. But…"

He sighed and held Madeline close to him. "But I want to do it in a way that doesn't require violence."

"Doesn't require violence?" Madeline, taken aback, sat up straight. Jared removed his arm from her shoulders with genuine surprise. "What do you think all those Wungkan fights were for? Or did you forget that you're Martin's Champion? The chosen defender of Redwall Abbey?"

She picked up his paws, interlacing her fingers in his own. "You, Tinar-Andelle of Maraul. You are the one to wield the Sword of Martin for the defense of Redwall and Mossflower. Did you think all that Wungkan fighting was for fun? Or were you training to prepare yourself to take up the mantle of Abbey Warrior?"

"Maddie…" Jared closed his eyes and exhaled in resignation. "Bunso, we're getting off topic. I asked if you're okay after how Dragel treated you."

Madeline scrunched up her face as if biting back words. Then she too closed her eyes and exhaled. "Right, right. I'm sorry. I'm just…I'm just so angry, Tinarandel…"

"You have every right to be angry, kapatid," Jared reassured her. "Dragel's a predator. He has no morality, no restraint, no compunction about who he hurts. You see how he went after Saffron? He would've gotten her if she didn't have her powerful gong. We both saw how hard the sound hit him."

He dropped one paw to rub her stomach. "Remember that one red fox, too? He was with Deathblade when they first came to the Abbey. Did you see the way he looked at Larina? How uncomfortable he made her? You could see the hormones in his eyes."

"I can't believe it took us this long to figure it out," Madeline seethed, looking off into the brush. A yard or two away dwelt a hexagonal-shaped clearing of trees, tan sand and dirt, and rings of emerald grass. A campfire ringed by rocks and stones rose from the center. There the others sat together.

"Deathblade wants us dead. His soldiers want us as slaves."

She looked back at her brother. Seeing his silence, she quickly added, "At least that's my working theory."

"No, I think it's a solid theory," Jared nodded to reassure her. "I think you're onto something, Maddie."

"Look, there's only one boy who's allowed to see my body in this way," Madeline leaned into his paws, drawing closer to him. "That's you, Jared."

"Just me?" Jared risked a teasing smirk. "Not even…Divan Tonaka?"

"Watch it, Tinarandel," Madeline jabbed a finger at his nose. Jared snickered and adjusted his weight on the log.

"Dragel won't get away with what he's done to you." Jared stroked her facefur with his thumb. "I'll make sure of that. As for Adhuxnuo, he'll face justice for murdering Edoran. Deathblade, too. We'll won't let them get away with their crimes. We'll put the spirits of their victims at peace."

"I hope sooner rather than later," Madeline thought out loud, relaxing from her brother's soothing touches. "Before anybeast else becomes their next victims."

1 day later…

"Akret Branch: Kōnōtash, Hoskinyuk, Rtuyoshi, Gōryjūn, and Hayisōkū."

Jared's ears twitched at the sudden wind carrying Larina's low whispers to him. He pulled his gaze from the enchantment of the forest. The trees and their leaves had already begun changing into autumn shades of amber, gold, and taupe.

"Tuah Mann. Timakwo. Domnal…"

Jared picked up his pace to catch up to her. He hefted his messenger bag and clothes pack over his shoulders. Larina walked ahead of him half a yard away.

"Ganguen Huk. Kuanzai. Halichit."

He leaped clean over a fallen log which Larina had only stepped over, rather absentminded.

Could this be it? Is this my chance? Can I can finally tell her how I feel about her?!

"Inijashi. Lonxai. Lunkuthwo."

He stopped to shake dirt from the insides of his sandals, one at a time.

"Shonjin. Akhdap. Nata Shundua Uft—"

"Everything all right, Larina?"

Larina flinched when Jared's voice interrupted her thoughts. He came up from behind her, hefting his pack over one shoulder.

"Oh! Jared…You startled me!"

"Sorry!" Jared put his paws in apology. "I didn't mean to scare you. I heard you saying the names of Wungkan styles out loud." He rubbed the back of his head, bashful. "I wondered if you were feeling okay."

"Oh," Larina chuckled and held a paw to her heart in relief. "I was only recalling as many as I could, reflecting on what I saw and learned there at Brockhall. It's all so very fascinating. Did I get every one of them?"

Jared held a paw to his mouth, stroking his chin. He stared down at the ground in thought as he wracked his brains. "Yeah, I think you got them all."

He looked back up at Larina and grinned. "Great job, Larina. Your memory is impressive."

Larina exhaled in relief and chuckled again. "Whew…Thank you, Jared."

"Anything you have questions about in Wungkan?" Jared asked as they resumed walking down the dirt road. Ahead of them, the others walked side-by-side. Madeline and Antonius were paw-in-paw together. Jacob stood in the center beside Madeline, talking and laughing with Laurel.

"That style that Adhuxnuo used," Larina stared off into the distance, reflecting. "Nata Shundua Uft. It didn't look like an Eastern style."

"It isn't," Jared fell into step beside the squirrelmaid. "Nata Shundua Uft finds its roots in ancient Morringtat. Far to the northwest, beyond Sampetra and the Terramort Isle. It wasn't created in the Islands, or Senshan. Nor anywhere else on the Eastern Seaboard. Heavily aggressive, and dangerous in the wrong paws."

He averted his eyes and stared down at his walking feet. "Erm…It saw…a lot of use…when Deathblade and his forces invaded Maraul…seasons ago…"

"And Akhdap?" Larina asked, trying to ease Jared's mood. "Dragel's style? Where does that come from?"

"A wrestling and grappling style exclusive to Terramort," Jared brought his eyes back up again. He lengthened his strides to a slight degree to keep up with the others. "Much more modern. It's only been developed within the last decade or so."

Rubbing the back of his head again, he added, "I've heard the philosophy of Akhdap is to overcome oneself, instead of cultivating violence or aggression."

He dropped his paw by his side and shook his head with a gruff exhale. "But clearly Dragel didn't get that memo."

"I still can't believe he would treat Madeline like that," Larina looked over at Madeline, who was interlacing her fingers with Antonius'. The faintest hint of a blush crept up on the shrew's cheeks. Madeline's other paw was held in Jacob's dainty embrace. "If he had gone any farther…" She shuddered. "It's too horrifying to imagine."

She glanced over at Jared, who was staring straight back at her. "How did you do it?"

Jared blinked once. "Do what?"

"Get the strength to fight back? Even through all your exhaustion from doing three fights back-to-back with each other. You stood up, sprinted towards Dragel, jumped up, and kicked him in the jaw. How did you do it?"

Jared turned his gaze and stared off into the horizon above the others. "Martin. He spoke to me. Called me by name. My Eastern name. Tinarandel. He gave me that strength to fight back. If it wasn't for him, Deathblade would've won. Dragel would've…"

He cleared his throat and met Larina's eyes again. "It was Martin, Larina. And now I'm...well, I'm starting to believe that…him choosing me to be his Champion, the Warrior of Redwall Abbey…Maybe it wasn't a coincidence after all."

"I understand that it feels so overwhelming," Larina took his paw in hers. A mild red blush colored both their cheeks. "It's an awful lot to think about. But I'm sure all the answers will come to you in time. When Martin is ready to reveal them."

Jared nodded in understanding. He swung their paws back and forth while they continued to walk. "Any other Wungkan styles you wanted to know about?"

"That one style that Madeline used against Adhuxnuo," Larina mentioned, adjusting the straps of her travel pack around her shoulders. "What was that? The Log-a-Logs called it 'Lun-kuth-wo'?"

"Great pronunciation, Rina!" Jared smiled and nodded, and Larina let out a sigh of relief. "You got it. The Southern Maraulian Water-Dragon style."

He shaped his other paw like a bared dragon's claw. "It's said to imitate the combat movements and techniques of the ancient water-dragon Slothunog. Hence why most of its moves are named after him."

"Slothunog," Larina nodded, understanding. "He was said to have inhabited the Deeplough of the Green Isle in past seasons."

"The very same," Jared confirmed with another nod. "Our brother, Edoran…" His voice faded into a silence, and he gulped. Larina did not say a word; Jared spoke up again at length.

"Edoran practiced Lunkuthwo," Jared's voice had turned low and soft. "Then Madeline picked it up after he…he…"

"It's all right, Jared," Larina pressed a finger to his mouth. His blush deepened to a crimson red. "You don't need to say anything. I know. Everyone knows."

Jared responded with a slight nod. Larina removed her finger from his lips.

"What about your parents? What Wungkan styles did they practice?"

"Well…" Jared thought back to his late parents. "My father, Dane, used a style called Wahtengwu. The Maraulian Brown Heron."

"Sounds like a very flexible style to me," Larina thought out loud, nodding. "Acrobatic and agile. Perfect for us squirrels. And your mother?"

"A combination of Wungkan styles, actually," Jared explained, and Larina blushed when he began stroking his thumb along her the back of her paw.

"We call it 'Pag-ka-ka-i-sa'." He pronounced the word slowly for her so she would understand. "In our tongue, it means 'fusion'. Not so much its own style, but made up of smaller styles from across all the Eastern Islands. All combined into this one greater synthesis."

"Fascinating!" Larina's eyes shone in the afternoon sunlight, and Jared knew her intrigue was genuine. "All of this is truly intriguing, Jared. I'd love to learn more about Wungkan whenever you and Madeline find the time to talk to me about it."

"Even better," Jared lifted a finger to encourage her. "We can even teach you some more if you want! Halichit has more than just meditative benefits. It can even be used as a combat style, as you saw from Antonius and Ruth."

A bashful laugh escaped Larina, and she rubbed the back of her head. "Er…No, thank you. I think I'd be best sticking with meditation. If that's okay, Jared. Perhaps there's more you can teach me about that?"

"Absolutely," Jared winked, and her blush deepened to match his. "I have just the one in mind."

"Oy!" Laurel called back to them from ahead. They immediately turned to regard her. "Heads up! Somebeast's coming!"

"Hey…" Antonius's ears twitched. He stood up on his tiptoes, senses poised to the northwest. "D'ya guys 'ear that?"

A sudden full-throated scream pierced the air and their ears. They hurried into the brush, where they crouched and peered out from behind a cluster of flower bushes.

A humble, four-walled, straw-roofed, wooden hut sat with its door ajar in a large grassy clearing. Carpentry tools, logs in a variety of woods, and simple metal workbenches leaned against its east-facing wall. Voices could be heard from within the wide-open door.

"Move it, weasel! Ye're comin' wit' us!"

"Ye're one'a Deathblade's draftees now! Ah-hahahahahaha!"

"No! No, please!"

A rat and a stoat bolted out the door. The rat dragged a portly bearded weasel behind him. The quintet could see a thick rope tied tight around the weasel's wrists.

"Oh, no…" Madeline's face went chalk-white. "That's Malgumm Wegendell!"

"Who?" Jacob asked, unable to tear his eyes away from the sight.

The weasel tripped over his own feet. He fell flat onto his stomach in the dirt. The rat yanked on the rope, pulling Malgumm back up.

"Bloody muddle'ead, can't do nuthin' righ'!" The stoat seized the rope from the rat and forced the weasel towards him. "On yer feet, weasel!"

"Malgumm Wegendell," Jared explained to Jacob and the others. "I've done smithing work for him before. See those tools in front of his house? I made those for him."

Malgumm had fallen for the second time, now onto his back.

"Gettup, antbrain!" Skullback ordered and gestured at the weasel to stand. "Dat's an order from yer commander!"

"Blasted potbellied slip-footed numbbrain!" Mudclaw snarled and advanced on the frightened Malgumm, who tried to crawl backwards. "Do ya 'ave wood shavin's in yar ears?! Gettup, ya tail-twisted lazy-pawed scumbag!"

Mudclaw and Skullback grabbed each of his armpits and wrenched him back up. Skullback took the rope. They marched off towards the north, dragging the poor weasel behind them.

"No!" Malgumm protested through tears of desperation and fear. "No, no, no! Please!" He clung onto an old oak tree trunk for dear life.

"Shaddup, weasel!" Skullback's words stabbed at his heart like sharpened daggers. "Ye belon' t' th' Scornful Tyrant now! Ye'll learn t' obey orders an' not question yer superiors! Now c'mon!"

Mudclaw jerked half of the rope. Skullback continued walking, pulling with all his might.

"No! No! No!" Malgumm's claws scratched away the bark of the oak tree. He broke free and flopped onto his side, eliciting a sharp yelp of pain from him. Visible scratch marks were left in the wake of his despairing grip on the tree.

"For th' last time!" Skullback threw his face to the skies and palmed himself. "I swear, if'n we've gotta drag yar clumsy tail all th' way back t' the Skeleton Rocks…"

"If ya make us late fer dinner an' grog," Mudclaw seethed, grabbing Malgumm by the wrists and standing him up straight. "Ya'll be sorry!"

"Please, sirs!" Malgumm begged, falling into rank. "Please! Have mercy!"

"We've gotta help him!" Madeline leaped to her feet. "Mal! Wait!"

"No, Isidith!" Jared grabbed the hem of Madeline's dress and forced her back down onto her knees. "We can't risk discovery! Deathblade wants us, remember?"

"But we can't let him take away our vermin friends!" Madeline cried out to her brother. Her eyes had grown round and wide with terror. "Deathblade will make them fight for him against Redwall!"

"That monster!" Antonius hit his fist into his palm.

Jared said nothing in reply, but looked up at the clearing again. He caught a glimpse of Mudclaw and Skullback just before they vanished under the cover of the trees. Malgumm staggered and stumbled at the rear, hauled along by the imprisoning rope.

"Malgumm…" Jared choked, his breath catching in his throat. "No…"

"Now look!" Madeline gestured in the direction the vermin had disappeared. "He's gone! Deathblade's vermin got him! We should've helped him while we had the chance, Tinarandel!"

"That rat and stoat," Larina thought aloud, her brow furrowed with worry. "They're part of Deathblade's crew?"

"What business do they have, forcing vermin from all over Mossflower out of their homes?" Laurel asked, gritting her teeth and clenching her fists.

Jared's eyes went wide. "Deathblade's gang-pressing good vermin into his crew. He's trying to build an army! Like Cluny the Scourge before him!"

"An army with the purpose of bringing down Redwall!" Madeline realized in horror. She clapped a paw to her mouth to stifle a scream and pointed at the vermin.

"I had no idea there were good vermin in Mossflower," Jacob, confused, rubbed his chin. "Great seasons, this is making me completely reevaluate everything I've ever known."

"There've been good vermin livin' in Mossflower fer decades," Antonius explained, cupping his chin. "But what righ' does Nagrig Deathblade 'ave t' conscript them inta 'is army?"

"Malgumm's a carpenter," Madeline pointed out. She clutched at her brother, who took her into his arms. "He's no fighter. He would never hurt anybeast, ever in his life."

"Are not all vermin in the world evil, then?" Jacob asked, and the others sensed his tone was earnest and sincere.

"Of course not!" Jared protested, staring at the canine over his shoulder in disbelief. "How could you even think that?! About half of my customers and patrons of my forge are vermin! Sometimes even more than woodlanders!"

"Artisans, farmers, craftsbeasts," Madeline added, laying her head on her brother's chest. She wrapped her arms around him. "These are vermin of high moral standing. But it seems Deathblade wants to turn them into monsters and killers!"

"I don't know what to think of all of these good vermin," Jacob growled from deep in his throat, his wolf eyes flaring. "But turning them into heartless murderers sounds so sick!"

"Wait a minute," Jared gasped out loud. "Maddie, if Deathblade's rounding up vermin from all over Mossflower Woods into his army, then…"

Madeline also gasped and removed her face from her brother's chest. She stared up at him, eyes widening.

"Fernleaf must be in danger, too!"

"Fernleaf?" Jacob asked, staring at the two squirrels, suspicious now.

"No time to explain, Jake," Jared hurried to his feet, as did Madeline. "But Madeline and I need to pay a visit to a friend of ours. You need to hurry back to Redwall."

"What's going on?" Jacob jumped to his feet and towered over the two squirrels. "Who's Fernleaf? What are you two not telling me?!"

The squirrels did not reply, only staring at him in silence. He dropped his voice to a threatening growl.

"How many more secrets are you two hiding?!"

"We'll tell you later, Jake!" Madeline hefted her bag over her shoulder and passed Jared his own. "Can you get back to Redwall on your own?"

Jacob narrowed his eyes at the squirrels for a long moment. Then he closed his eyes and let out a deflating sigh.

"Fine." He put up his palms in surrender. "All right. Whatever. I'll get Larina back to Redwall safe and sound." He wrapped a careful arm around Larina's shoulders. "Don't worry; I know this neck of the woods like the backs of my paws."

"We know a shortcut around these parts," Laurel stepped forward, a knowing finger in the air. "Save ourselves a couple of days and get back to Redwall in the blink of an eye."

"Good. Take that." Jared nodded to show his trust in the two shrews. "I know this sounds suspicious, Jake," he addressed the wolf. He stood to his fullest height and puffed out his chest. "You don't need to trust Maddie and I right now. Let us go do what we need to do."

"I trust you, Jared," Larina nodded, taking up her walking stick in both hands.

"Thanks, Rina," Jared nodded back and took Madeline's paw in his own. "I appreciate that."

"Me, too. Now let's go!" Madeline and Jared dashed off towards the northeast, opposite of where they had come.

"This way!" Antonius bounded off into the brush, due west. Laurel ran abreast of him. Jacob and Larina, though reluctant, tailed directly behind them. "We'll getcha both t' Redwall in less than a 'alf a jiffy!"

"Last chance, ferret! Come wit' us or else! This is yar final warnin'!"

Darksnout waved his dagger under Fernleaf's nose. On either side, Baric and Ripspit raised their paws, ready to grab Fernleaf at a moment's notice.

The herbalist ferret stood eerily calm and composed before the hostile vermin. "I will never bow to or bend my knee to evil. I am Fernleaf, herbalist and healer of Mossflower. I gave up the trade of murder and bloodshed long ago." He never once glanced down at the sharp dagger wafting under his nostrils.

"Well, ain't no better time than now to revisit it, eh?" Baric sneered at the ferret. Beside him, Ripsit narrowed his eyes and growled. "Rediscover the joy of shedding innocent blood and snuffing out another's life for the fun of it?"

"Oh, don't tell us that's never crossed yer min' once or twice!" Ripspit jived, a not-so-subtle hungry grin stretching across his face.

"No," Fernleaf snarled, his lip curling. "I left that behind me in the past seasons upon seasons ago. I intend to let it stay there for the rest of my life."

"An 'erbalist, ya said, eh?" Darksnout lowered his dagger and furrowed his brow in thought. "Ya know, 'is Lordship Deathblade could use a 'ealer o' some sort. 'Elp fix up our troops an' yar fellow vermin after a big figh' or a little skirmish. Whaddaya say? That interest ya?"

"Why?" Fernleaf countered, now standing up straight. "Why would I want to help bloodthirsty vermin who prey on innocent woodlanders? Who delight in shedding the blood of virtuous goodbeasts? Why should I return to my old self? My old ways? Regress back into the monster I once was, to serve and care for other monsters? Just so they can bring more harm onto more innocents?"

He curled his paws into fists and stood firm, resolute. "No. I think I'd rather not."

"Then yore a deadbeast!" Darksnout raised his dagger again for an attacking blow. Fernleaf hardly flinched.

Meanwhile, Jared and Madeline ducked down behind a berry bush. They peeked out from behind at the clearing. Madeline gasped seeing the herbalist ferret's hut door completely ajar. Three beasts stood inside it, their voices issuing into the clearing.

"That's Ripspit," Jared told her, pointing at the corpulent wearet. "He was the welcoming party when I went to negotiate with Deathblade. I could've sworn he would eat me on the spot. Charming beast. And that rat in the leather armor is Baric; supposed to be some big shot master swordsbeast in Terramort. Not sure who that stoat is, though."

"He's raising his dagger!" Madeline clapped a paw to her mouth, riveted. "He's going to hurt Fernleaf!"

"No more waiting around!" Jared leaped to his feet and stepped out from behind the bush. "Time to intervene!"

"Tuah Mann or Southern Water-Dragon?"

"Whatever gets the job done, c'mon!"

Fernleaf sidestepped the incoming dagger and clamped his hand around Darksnout's wrist. He twisted it around until the arm bent under the pressure.

"Yaaahhh!" the stoat screamed. Baric and Ripspit hurled in to intercept.

But Fernleaf's leg whipped out into the pit of Ripspit's obese stomach. The wheezing wearet flinched and recoiled, holding his aching overgrown belly.

Fernleaf ducked under Baric's swinging sword. He spun around again in the other direction.

His other leg tripped the rat's feet out from underneath him. Baric fell flat on his stomach and chin on the hard wooden floor of the hut.

His grip never wavered on Darksnout. He seized the stoat by the throat and bent his paw backwards. The dagger's thin iron blade pointed right at the bridge of the mustelid's nose.

"I'm only going to say this once," Fernleaf hissed, his eyes blazing brighter than the hut's fireplace. "No means no!"

With that, he pushed Darksnout backwards with all his might. The stoat stumbled backwards onto the recovering Baric.

The two of them rolled head over tails towards Ripspit. The wearet stumbled aside, the other two bowled clear out of the open door. They landed together in a heap on the grass.

Ripspit wheeled back to Fernleaf— "Hurk!" The ferret's thumb and index finger clenched around his larynx. His other fist slammed into Ripspit's jaw.

"Yooo-hoo-hoo-hooo!" the wearet bawled, stinging hot tears streaming down his face. Two final jabs to his eyes and temples sent him reeling out of the hut.

Baric and Darksnout protested. But the drooling dizzy wearet flopped on top of them. Cursing, the rat and stoat wriggled free of the overgrown Ripspit's crushing weight.

"We'll getchu fer this!" Darksnout fetched his dagger and shook the dagger with threatening gestures. He bolted into the brush of the forest.

"You ain't seen the last of us!" Baric spat in the ferret's direction. He too sprinted after Darksnout.

"Oh-hoy! Wait fer me!" Ripspit too hobbled away, holding his throat and head and staggering dizzily into the shadows.

Fernleaf brushed dust and dirt from his paws. "Good riddance to bad rubbish."

"Fernleaf!"

Jared and Madeline sprang into the clearing. Fernleaf raised his eyebrows in genuine surprise.

Jared had assumed a typical combat ready pose, ankles together and fists up at eye level. Madeline had one paw curled into a fist; the other hovered over it with claws bared.

"We saw everything!" Jared dropped the pose and hurried up to Fernleaf. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," Fernleaf replied with a nod and a warm smile. Madeline sidled up abreast of her brother. "They didn't get a scratch on me. It's good to see you two, Jared and Madeline. Those beasts have been in my house for the past half hour, trying to get me to join Deathblade's numbers."

"We know," Madeline nodded, shaking with anxiety. "We passed by Malgumm Wegendell's house a few minutes ago. They took him, too!"

"Malgumm?" Fernleaf's face turned chalk-white at the mention of the name. "How could they do that? Malgumm's a peaceful weasel. He'd never raise a blade against another beast, not in a dozen lifetimes!"

He turned over his shoulder and retreated inside his hut. "You had better come inside. Tell me everything you know." Jared and Madeline followed the ferret without hesitation.

"You know Malgumm Wegendell?" Jared asked, obeying as Fernleaf bade the siblings sit at a square mahogany table.

"Aye, we've known each other for half a dozen seasons, actually," Fernleaf removed a tea kettle from its hook above the fire. He poured out three cups of peppermint tea, serving the siblings first, then himself. "Ever since I first moved into Mossflower. Had him over this past weekend for this very tea, as a matter of fact. He even built me that brand-new table." He ran an admiring paw over the polished table.

"Deathblade's building an army," Madeline explained, cradling her tea between her paws. She shifted her weight in her seat, nervous. "He's sent out scouts to gang-press good vermin across every corner of Mossflower. Jared and I believe that he plans to bring down Redwall – just to get to us."

"Because of this strange Prophecy of yours, I assume?" Fernleaf sat on Jared's right across from Madeline. "Is that why?"

He shook his head and let out a bitter sigh. "That villain. He will truly go to any lengths he can to get what he wants. Seems Deathblade doesn't care who gets stepped on or sacrificed along the way. As long as he achieves his goals."

"How did you do that?" Jared gestured with his eyes at the door. "Throw those vermin out! We could've helped you, but you handled it all by yourself."

"Yeah, like Jared said, we saw everything!" Madeline's fear turned to abrupt excitement and eagerness. "That's Soy Tayuay, the Assassin's style!"

"Assassin's style—what?!" Fernleaf furrowed his brow, looking back and forth between the squirrel siblings. "Begging your pardons, but what are you on about?"

"It's a long story," Jared held out a paw to pacify the ferret. "What we mean is, how did you take care of those three vermin with your own two paws?"

At this, Fernleaf fell silent and stared down at his cup. He did not speak for a long moment. Instead, he stood up and turned his back on the squirrels, leaning on the counter in front of him.

"I wasn't always an herbalist or a healer," he explained at length. His voice came low, regretful, and uncharacteristically serious. "In fact, I wasn't always a goodbeast to begin with."

"What do you mean, Fernleaf?" Madeline asked, her eyes locked on the ferret. Jared too leaned forward in interest, one paw steadying his teacup.

"Seasons and seasons ago," Fernleaf began, his back still turned to them. "Long before you and most of your generation were born, I'm sure…I bore a different name."

He stared up at the wall. His gaze trailed off into the depths of memory.

"Zagreb the Assassin. A coldhearted, bloodthirsty, merciless killer for hire. I killed only for money and contracts. Not for fame or reverence. I preyed on woodlander and vermin alike, never caring for the trails of blood I left in my wake. Adult, teenager, child. It never mattered to me whom the victims were. They all met the cold steel ends of my knives."

He glanced down at his paw. It trembled, and he curled it into a fist.

"I practiced the arts of stealth, espionage, and assassination. I learned how to fight both up-close and from afar. Killing was an art to me. Knives and bows were my paintbrushes. The crimson blood of my enemies, the ink. The ground or the floor, my canvases."

He looked at his other paw and rubbed his fingers and thumb together. Grasping at a feeling long forgotten.

"Quick kills in pure silence. Get in, slay the mark, get out. Retrieve my pay at the drop point. Next contract. A never-ending pattern of contracts and murders. A never-ending stream of blood formed behind and drawn before me. Over and over and over again. Kill after kill. No remorse, no guilt, no shame."

The Sandeyes did not reply. He heard not even an intake of breath from them. After a minute, he turned around to meet their compelled and captivated eyes again.

"It happened about thirty seasons ago. I got my contract as usual. A vermin warlord in some faraway land. I've forgotten the name now. But I'll never forget how the contract happened."

He walked over to behind Jared's chair and leaned down over the squirrel. Madeline gasped when Fernleaf grabbed the back of Jared's neck, his other paw at his throat. The teenage squirrel did not flinch.

"I snuck into the vermin camp, like I do. But something went wrong that night. I killed the wrong beast."

He grazed his claw straight across Jared's throat. Madeline flinched in her seat.

"The vermin warlord raised the alarm on me. Whether my contract had secretly sold me out, if I was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time, or the night watch had decided to shift at the worst possible moment…I will never know. More questions than answers."

He released Jared and straightened up. "Either way, the damage had been done. The wrong vermin lay dead. The warlord lived. And for the very first time in my career…"

He hung his head and stared down at his feet, ashamed. "…I had failed a contract."

Crestfallen and humiliated, he walked timidly back to his seat. He took a quick sip of tea to moisten his mouth and throat.

"In an instant, the entire vermin horde fell upon me. I remember being attacked by claws and fists and blades of many kinds. By some miracle, I managed to flee the scene, disappearing into the shadows."

He took a long thoughtful moment to fold his arms. Fingers drummed on his elbows.

"I fled that faraway land altogether. Stole aboard a law-abiding sailor's ship," he put his teacup back atop its saucer. "Where they were bound, I did not know. It didn't matter to me. I just needed to get away."

He sat back down again, taking his tea in his paws. Out of respect, the Sandeyes likewise sipped their tea. Their exhales of satisfaction seemed to brighten the ferret's spirits a little.

"The next morning, I noticed that the sailors had made a stop at Salamandastron, the great fire mountain. I eavesdropped on the captain talking with his crew. This was only a temporary stop, and the sailors were halfway to their true destination of Ruddaring. Either way, I took that opportunity to sneak out of the ship and land in Salamandastron."

He stood up again to gather a modest assembly of tea enhancements. Milk, lemon, honey, nectar, cinnamon sticks, agave leaves, sugar cubes, and maple syrup. These he placed in the center of the table.

"It wasn't long before the Long Patrol discovered my presence," Fernleaf placed the cinnamon sticks and a glass container of maple syrup side-by-side with each other. "By then, the sailors had long gone. The hares noticed my weakness, my starvation and dehydration; sickness and fatigue settling in. Yet…"

He drummed his fingers on the table, slowly sitting back down again.

"To put it simply, they decided not to kill me on the spot. Instead, they took me straight to their leader."

Here he sat up straight, puffing out his chest. "Badger Lord Tokal. The mightiest, boldest, and greatest badger I had ever laid eyes on in my life."

"What did he say?" Madeline asked, wide-eyed. Jared helped himself to the honey. "What did he do, Fernleaf?"

At this, Fernleaf smiled warmly at the squirrelmaid. "Exactly the opposite of what you'd expect, my dear Madeline. He let me live."

"Whoa…" Jared turned his eyes, round as the afternoon sun. Fernleaf flashed him the same smile, chuckling.

"The Long Patrol tended to my wounds. They healed, bathed, and reclothed me. Gave me food and drink, a place to stay."

His smile shrank into a somber, introspective look. He stared down into the depths of his tea, only a few sips less. Jared and Madeline watched and waited in silence.

"Such generosity and openness and genuine warmth and care they showed me…that one day, I had a revelation. An epiphany of sorts." He swirled his tea around in his cup. Beckoning with one paw for the sugar cubes, Jared passed them to him.

"I came to realize that the beasts of Salamandastron had welcomed me to their land with open arms." He picked up a single sugar cube with a pair of tongs and dropped it into his tea. "They had shown me no hostility, no hatred, and especially no prejudice." The ferret picked up his spoon to stir the sugar into the peppermint.

"Perhaps it was by Lord Tokal's decree." He lightly tapped his spoon on the rim of his cup and placed it back on his saucer. "Or the Long Patrol had somehow known of my coming in advance. Maybe Tokal saw it in a dream-vision of some kind. Nevertheless…"

The Sandeyes enhanced their tea while Fernleaf took a long and thoughtful sip from his.

"After a week, I appeared before Lord Tokal once more. I had had a change of heart."

He stood up and dropped to one knee beside his chair. The siblings leaned to one side to see him.

"That fateful day, I made a solemn oath." He clasped his paws together, interlacing his fingers. "Never again would I raise my blade to steal the life of any beast, woodlander or vermin. Never again would I shed the blood of the innocent or guilty. Never would a love of money and the artistry of murder be the central driving purpose of my existence."

He gazed downward until his forehead touched his knees. "I would retire to a life of peace and simplicity, free of greed and the thrill of assassination. I'd live out the rest of my days in the quiet life. I would give up my blades and forsake everything they've done. Put my past as an assassin behind me. Work my hardest to spend the rest of my days making amends. Retire to become a hermit."

He stared up at the Sandeyes, who'd been hanging on his every word.

"'Vermin No More', I called myself. Lord Tokal accepted my oath. Then, I was no longer an assassin. I buried all my daggers in a pit in Salamandastron, where no other beast will ever find and use them, ever again."

A touched smile spread across his face when gasps of awe escaped the squirrels.

"After another week at Salamandastron," he stood back up and returned to his chair. "Tokal commanded that the Long Patrol escort me to Mossflower. There I discovered Redwall Abbey. At the time, one Abbess Starfire governed it, a squirrel just like yourselves. She too welcomed me in and offered me sanctuary."

He added a second sugar cube to his tea. "I found myself especially drawn to the Infirmary, kept by the mouse Brother Josiah. Perhaps it was some inkling of destiny or fate. But I found myself particularly intrigued by the various herbs and plants and the like that Josiah used in his healing practices. At that moment, I felt I had found my calling."

The ferret gestured round at his hut. "I would take on the trade of an herbalist and healer."

"That's incredible, Fernleaf," whispered the wonderstruck Madeline. Jared nodded in silent agreement, sipping his tea.

"Indeed, it is, Madeline," Fernleaf nodded as well. "So, less than a week later, I finished building this very same hut and took on learning the herbalist's trade. Josiah was my mentor. At that time, I also met the Badger Mother, Snowpaw. Believe it or not, she happened to be the daughter of none other than Badger Lord Tokal. She watched over the Dibbuns."

He pressed a gentle and humble paw to his heart. "Impressed and fascinated by my choice to become an apothecary, they coined a new name for me. Fernleaf."

The Sandeyes' eyes twinkled in the firelight. Fernleaf rested his paw down by his side. "In that instance, Zagreb the Assassin was no more. I embraced my new name, my new title. Fernleaf the Hermit."

He patted the surface of his table. "Here in Mossflower have I lived ever since. Finding other good vermin like myself. Helping all those who come to my door for aid, woodlander and vermin alike. The opposite of my former days as Zagreb the killer."

"Helping us, too," Jared remembered, sharing a reminiscent glance with Madeline. Fernleaf smiled from ear to ear.

"That is my tale. I understand this is a lot to think about. But…at this time, I must know. As I have always wondered…"

Fernleaf leaned forward to peer at the two squirrels, curious.

"Why did you two trust me so readily? Why did you take to me as swiftly as you did in your hour of need? You could've raised an alarm; fought back against me. I would not have defended myself. Why did you do neither of those things?"

He waited while the siblings shared a knowing glance.

"Fernleaf," Jared began, also leaning in. Madeline returned to her tea. "My sister, and our family come from a land where woodlanders and vermin coexist and live together in peace and harmony. In the Eastern Islands, it doesn't matter if you're a ferret or a squirrel; a hedgehog or a stoat. A fox or an otter. You're part of the Islands."

"All are welcome in our homeland, Fernleaf," Madeline added, placing a cinnamon stick in her half-finished tea.

"All are?" Fernleaf asked, glancing between the two. "Anybeast can live there? Adopt those lands as their own home?"

"Yes," Jared nodded. He took a brief sip of tea, and then, "But here's the thing. You don't adopt the Islands. The Islands adopt you."

"I suppose that makes…some sense." The ferret leaned back in his chair, still thinking and gripping his tea. "So vermin and woodlanders live in harmony, you said?"

"Yep!" Madeline nodded, now enthusiastic and proud. "There are vermin in central positions in the royal courts. They can always speak up in council, and have their opinions heard, considered, and validated." She sipped her cinnamon-laced tea.

"You wanted to know why we trusted you as readily as we did, Fernleaf?" Jared asked, leaning in Fernleaf's direction. He placed one paw on the ferret's. "It's just instinct. We knew we could trust you. Something we read in your eyes; the spirit you had. Your selfless willingness to help us in our time of desperation. We knew we could trust you from the beginning."

"Then perhaps…" Fernleaf's eyes widened with realization. Jared withdrew his paw. "Perhaps I've been right all this time. This is my calling, the healer's art."

He stared down into his tea before drinking the rest of it.

"First you two appear in my area," Fernleaf thought aloud. "Then I lead you to Redwall Abbey. Abbot Curtis extends an invitation to me to join your Nameday Feast. The next morning, this Nagrig Deathblade shows up and tries to kidnap you. He mentions a Prophecy of some kind, calls you by the strangest names. Tinarandel and Isidith. Now…all this."

He curled one paw into a tight fist. "Gang-pressing my fellow vermin brethren all over Mossflower. Even trying to rope me into the madness, the chaos. Now you two reappear again."

He shook his head and planted both paws upon the table. "I can't understand what it all means."

At this moment, Madeline leaned forward and took Fernleaf's paw in her own. "Fernleaf. Why don't you come with us to Redwall? You'll be safer there from Deathblade's soldiers than you are here."

Fernleaf mulled over her words for a moment. "Yes, Madeline. I do believe you are right. I doubt Deathblade will try to reach me if he knows I'm under Redwall's protection. I agree. I will go with you."

He leaped straight up, taking his teacup and saucer with him. "We'd best leave now. No telling if those brutes will come back here. The sooner, the better. I'd hate to be late for lunch."

Madeline gave him hers and Jared's teacups. Fernleaf washed them while Jared cleared the table.

They emerged into the golden early afternoon sunlight. Fernleaf closed the windows and locked the door of his hut.

"Don't worry about this place. Only I have the key." He showed them a silver key which he hung on his waist.

"Let's make haste." He led the way in the direction of Redwall Abbey. "There is a great deal that your beloved family of Redwall needs to know."