Prologue

It was early Summer of the Fallen Oak. Southwards wavered in the shimmering heat, the green fields waving in the relieving breeze, and the warm nights following the soft twilight that arrived late in the day. Past the south border of Mossflower country, the sun stood tall over the battlefield. Vermin laid in heaps, dead, their weapons strewn everywhere. The few vermin that did not lay fallen quickly fled into the surrounding sparse woods. Woodlanders stood silent amidst it, breathing heavily until one spoke.

"Cadoc is dead! His army's defeated!" Cheers erupted then, otters, mice, hedgehogs, squirrels all joined in one mighty voice! Creatures dropped their weapons, embraced and wept.

Aredel the Axe stood with her back to the crowd, over the trembling figure of a pine marten. The squirrel's eyes were cold. Her axe shimmered in the heat. The broken body of Cadoc laid next to her, the deep cut of an axe in the warlords back.

She did not say anything as the pine marten fled. She did not give chase as Mardr ran into the woodlands amidst the cheers.

"Cadoc is dead! Cadoc is dead!"

The words ingrained themselves onto Mardr's mind, "Cadoc is dead! Cadoc is dead!"


Book One

The Scout and the Maiden


1

There was a storm in Mossflower Country. It was late summer, the leaves soon to be turning into rich shades of red and carpet the forest floor. A thick cloak of black clouds swept over the countryside, hiding the pale sliver of moon hung in the sky. It was to be the last storm of the season, an end to the warm, festive nights and pleasant lazy afternoons. Harsh, hissing winds forced the woodland to sway violently. Rain, heavy as iron seeds, poured down onto the sleeping forms of forest and fields below; so thick and heavy that a creature could hardly see another in front of them.

It howled over the countryside like a wild beast, over the gentle jewel of red sandstone that hid near the south border, over Mossflower forest, and over the great River Moss which split the countryside in two. Every creature of a sound mind had sought shelter earlier that day as soon as the first dark clouds appeared on the horizon. However, not every creature had found it.

Deep within Mossflower, a squirrelmaid was lost, beset upon by nature's wrath. Dark clouds blocked the moonlight and the rain blinded her. further. She pushed rainwater out of her eyes, mixed with tears.

Her paws were caked in mud and her fur was tangled in briars and burrs. Her wet fur felt heavy on her back. The squirrelmaid's thin figure trembled, exhausted. What a night it was, amidst storm!

She carefully picked herself through the dark, blind to what roots or thorns awaited within to trip or maim. Her tail was held close around her waist, as young squirrels tend to do when they're frightened. Underneath it her satchel lay hidden. She was anxious to keep it dry. It contained parchments, a bottle of elderberry ink, and hard scones amidst other trinkets.

The squirrelmaid had been traveling south, from along the north shore. She was joyful to be coming south again, missing the warmth of Mossflower. However, it seemed the violent weather of the north had followed her as wind hissed in her ear. It plastered cold rain against her back, soaking her fur to the roots. Now she tramped across the woodland, with no sense of direction except forward.

BOOM!

Thunder crashed above her, sending chills down her spine as she anxiously felt her way. Her fur would be standing on end if it wasn't sopping wet. CRAAACK! The forest was then suddenly outlined in a silvery white as lighting rent across the darkened sky! Startled, she felt her foot slip, catching mud then a root as she tripped and tumbled. Thud! Thud! Thud! The ground caught her multiple times, throwing her back into the air as she went downhill. She went head over tail over and over! Squirrels are known as expert climbers, easily recovering from falls but natural instincts failed to save her!

Her whole body stopped suddenly with a dull thud. The squirrelmaid's senses abandoned her, the world a haze of sensations. Everything outside was a dull hum to her now. The rain seemed a world away now, as her exhaustion finally overtook her.


Rain danced down the sides of the great fire mountain Salamandastron. Even this mystical place was not free from the wrath of storm. It stood strong in the tempest, like a slumbering giant. Within the fortress, a few beasts from the nearby forest and shore milled about the main banquet hall of Salmandastron. It was an impressive hall, with large wooden tables made of pine and a warm fire that crackled within a large stone fireplace. The mantle was decorated with carvings of hares and badgers and victories of battles long past. The hall was connected to the main hall, which was even more massive and contained the great anvil of the badgerlords, and the kitchens (A much more impressive place to hares).

As soon as the line of dark clouds appeared on the horizon line many of them had come seeking shelter. Not a sound of the storm outside could be heard, save the dull hum of rain. The hares of the mountain zipped in between various creatures, from moles to mice to hedgehogs (of which the hares were partially careful around) to shrews. Everything felt safe within the embrace of Salmandastron.

In the north part of the room, Badgerlord Pinebuck Wippskit sat in a large armchair made for his great size, dibbuns gathered around him in awe and bemusement. After all, Badgers were rare and few between to most, some even believing them to be fables to scare vermin. In truth, Pinebuck was a fair member of his species, large with black fur and a striped white muzzle. His limbs were strong and robust, contrasted by his belly that bulged outward ever so slightly. However, the thing everybeast noticed of him was his eyes, they were oddly gentle for a badgerlord. The faintest hint of sapphire hid within there, sparkling when the light caught them nicely. They were the eyes of a babe, curious and joyous about life's wonders.

The badger moved his large stripped head exaggeratedly around and wide-eyed in the same manner as the dibbuns, as if the young creatures had just appeared out of thin air and were just as rare, if not more-so. His voice was loud, uproarious, as if everything was secretly a game he was playing.

"Oh ho ho! Who do we have here? Now I've never seen a jolly beast of your kind before!" He playfully touched a young hares' ears, seemingly amazed by their length. "My, my, If only I had ears like these. Nary a thing would escape me."

The young child giggled, imagining the badger with long, long ears. She pushed away his large paw, "Yore lyin'! You got hares all around ye flippin' biggun!" Pinebuck looked stunned at this revelation,

"Oh, so I have, gel! What a lucky beast am I!"

The badger leaned close to another dibbun, a small fat rat with spots on his forehead, loudly whispering so the others could still hear him. "Or unlucky, depending on how much you like tah' eat!" The young hare's face soured, while the other children giggled loudly. Pinebuck's buoyant laughter joined theirs, only further making every beasts mind drift away from thoughts of the storm outside.


In the upper levels of Salmandastron, Pinebuck's laughter echoed through the halls and rooms as hares trounced about with errands to do and doings to errand. Maggery was idling at one of the few uncovered windows, watching the rain drip, drip, drip onto the ledge. The only other sounds within the room was the crackle of the fire slumbering within the small red sandstone fireplace and the impatient soft Thud, thud, thud of Maggery's footpaw. She was a young hare, fit and able in body and wildly ambitious in mind, and, like other young creatures, unable to sit still while it was raining outside.

The boredom hung heavy on her. The haremaid let out a long, exaggerated sigh, her ears drooping. A strong wind blew into her face from outside, as if in response, brushing her whiskers into her face. Half of them were singed, from a mistake in the forge that she swore wasn't her doing. Maggery sputtered, huffing and glaring out the window as if any creature was there. From across the room, a stern voice pulled the haremaid's back straight.

"Maggery McHathery Meadowcream! Stop pouting like a babe at the windowsill and get on yor' paws!" A much older hare marched up to her, his whiskers curled flamboyantly upward. What a child she still was. "I need you to help the kitchens, gel."

Maggery met her father's gaze, "With what?"

Major Marder Maxwell Meadowcream eyes wandered to her whiskers before he spoke, "I need you to count the number of creatures down there in the Banquet hall. Make sure you double check I don't any beast left out!" The copper medal on his chest shone in the firelight. It was an errand, at best, to keep her from moping like she always does while it rains. "Understand Maggery?"

Maggery saluted smartly to her father. "Aye sir!" The haremaid had a robust frame, with brown grey fur. She stood a bit shorter than the older hare, ears included of course.

"Good." He looked back at her before he left the room. "Oh, and Maggery?"

"Don't go into the forge again, at least without someone else, wot." He left mumbling to himself, she had to learn to be a bit more careful if she was going to be a long patrol hare. Maggery paid no mind to the last remark. She was eagerly thinking about the task, allowing it to take her mind off the endless storm outside and the coming dawn.


In the banquet hall, dibbuns and adults alike gathered around the chair of Badgerlord Pinebuck. They listened as his words began to thread together into tales of warrior squirrels, cruel slavers, and days of war, unknown to the young that lived in relative peace. Maggery listened intently, barely remembering to count the number of woodlanders present.

The Badgerlords voice echoed, boisterous and deep.

"Long ago, several seasons after our era of peace had begun; even though the likes of the Dryditch fever had disappeared from the thoughts of Mossflower it still struck at the north.

The Jukka, a long-lived tribe of squirrel warriors, now but a few, fell ill. They put their hopes onto one, a mighty squirrelmaid, fierce in battle and known for her quickness, Aredel the Falling Axe!"

The haremaid was enthralled, tales of heroes long past always did so. Salamandastron was not the busiest place at the time, few vermin dared to come to the shores of Mossflower. Pinebuck had since been focusing on the surrounding countryside, aiding those close to Salamandastron and frequent visits to Redwall Abbey. He was known as Pinebuck the Kind. Just as Boar was the Fighter, and Urthwyte was Mighty.

However, times of peace made young creatures long to wander. Even the scouting the haremaid did was not enough to sate it.

"Don't you dare think of going out in this storm, Maggery." An aging haremum, named Regan, stood beside her, a stained wooden spoon in her paw. She pointed it at Maggery. "I know that look in yore eye!" She shook her head, "That Pinebuck o' mine keeps filling yore head with flamin' stories of nonsense, wot!"

Maggery responded quick, "They're not nonsense!" Thump! Her ears drooped as she was tapped between them "…marm."

"They are when they make young beasts run off from their mothers!" The haremum huffed, "But that's neither hare nor there right now, young'in. Have you counted our guests?"

Maggery blinked, she had completely forgotten! She looked around, hurriedly counting mouse, shrew, hedgehog, and any creature nearby. "Erm…Yes marm, fifteen including the dibbuns." Maggery hoped.

Regan nodded, satisfied. "Thank yah' Maggery. Now, could a strong young leveret like yourself help me carry the plates out?" She smiled softly at the haremaiden. "We've got yore and Pinebuck's favorite desert tonight, raspberry turnovers!"

Maggery grinned widely, the first time that night. The compliment from the haremum made her feel so proud! She puffed out her chest. "Of course, I will marm!"

Regan chuckled at the young Maggery's excitement, the haremaid running into the kitchens ahead of her. She watched Pinebuck for a minute longer, still enveloped in telling his story, before she followed suite.

What a night it was going to be! Full of friends, food, and tales of adventure!