Authors Note: See previous Author's Notes. Martin the Warrior has just come out over here, but I haven't managed to get my hands on a copy yet. Thanks for all the reviews, I really appreciate the kind words :)

Disclaimer: The world of Redwall and historical characters like Matthias and Martin belong to the genius know as Brian Jacques. The rest of the characters are mine, to the best of my knowledge.

Before I begin the next part, I would like to answer some questions I have received from Mariel Gullwacker and Dara via reviews:

Answer: Actually, I took the name Bleys from one of the Nine Princes of Roger Zelany's Amber-books (which are complex but really good books for the little older readers). It is most probably so that Mr Zelany took the name from the old wizard of Arthurian Legend, seeing as one of the more important characters is actually named "Merlin", and another was called "Oberon" (Shakespeare's "A Midsummernight Dream")

Answer: Last time I checked I was Swedish. I always had a talent for English, though, too much American TV, I guess.

Answer: I honestly don't know. You see, Thomas (or Tom, as he was named until recently) Tilldrum have been around for a long, long while. First he was a Hexcat, a sort of feline mage in a story I wrote as a child. He was then the King of Cats, but he has morphed allot over the years and is now a warrior prince. The name was originally "Tim Tolldrum", which was somehow warped into Tom Tilldrum and Thomas Tilldrum. I read the name in an old RPG-magazine of my brother's, but I'm not sure where they got it. What is that story? It sounds very interesting!

If anyone of you have more questions, simply e-mail me them and I'll do my best to answer them. Now let's get it on!

Or

The mouse knew he did not have much time. He held on to the letter in one paw as hard as he could, fearing he might drop it in his panic. He held his primitive spear in the other hand, with the head away from him so that he would not accidentally hurt himself. They were after him, he knew that, but how far behind he did not know. Tears burnt in his eyes as he stumbled his way forward. The village was destroyed. Bloodcomb and his hordes had attacked without warning. They never stood a fighting chance.

Finally he arrived to his goal. A small cliff not far from the village, covered with shrubbery. He quickly climbed up the cliffside and met with a large sparrowhawk that was hiding in the bushes.

"Kriii! Me waited as Friar said, friend David!" it greeted him. "How is the village?"

"The village is doomed," the mouse sighed. "Flight, listen to me! You need to take this message to Redwall Abbey immediately!"

Her reached the letter to the hawk. Flight violently shook his head. "Kicki! No! Me stay and fight! Me fight with you, David! Me kill!"

"They are to many!" David said and forced the latter in among Flight's claws. "Take it now! You are the only one fast enough to reach Redwall in time to warn them! If you die Redwall is doomed!"

Suddenly they heard the screams from the vermin soldiers that had followed the young mouse. They were close now.

"Listen!" David hissed. "They will soon be here! You must take the friar's message to Redwall now!"

"Hey! I've found him!" a weasel who was just sticking his head up the cliff shouted. David twirled around and sent a rock flying with the sling he now had in his hand. The rock hit the weasel in the forehead and he fell backwards with a scream.

"Go!" David shouted and grabbed his spear as rats, weasels and ermines advanced up the cliffside waving their clubs, swords and pikes. He rushed them in spite of their size and number, well knowing that it would be his final stand. "What are you waiting for! GO!"

Flight only hesitated for a moment, and then threw himself from the cliff. As he ascended to the sky arrows whistled past him. One of them made a deep scratch in his left wing. He cried out, more out of anger and hate then pain.

"SKRIIIIIII!!! VENGEANCE! Me will warn Redwall! Me will not let you down, friend David! Me will go to Redwall, and then we will kill! KRIII!!!"

Over at Redwall Abbey, everyone had settled down for some supper before going to bed. Bleys and Snowflake were getting along as well as anyone could hope. Bleys' eyes still darted in wild manner when confronted with the cat, and Snowflake still looked so tense that everyone were just waiting for him to spring through the ceiling, but they talked with each other. And they almost did not argue at all.

The two of them were now enjoying their supper along with Michael, Thorn and Cal.

"I am beginning to feel much stronger," Snowflake said. "I believe that I will be in shape to return to my homeland once again very soon."

"Where is your home?" Thorn asked.

"Oh, to the north," Snowflake said. "A grim, cold land, low on food and water, but it is home. We are not greedy like the ravens and the crows. We believe that we were shaped by the land, and that we are meant to live there."

They all knew what he meant about the ravens and the crows. A couple of hundred seasons ago a raven general named Ironbeak had tried to invade Redwall. He had failed and lost his life in the progress. The remainder of his army had been sent back to where they came from.

"Have you fought many battles, Sir Silverslash," Cal asked. The young fighter had immediately found the knight interesting and always took the chance of asking him about his warrior skills.

"Oh, many," Snowflake laughed. "And you may call me Snowflake, little one. Yes, sometimes I believe there is always another raven who wants our food. It was actually because of such a situation that I ended up here. I am sure my Prince and the other orders have solved the matter already."

"It is always interesting to hear of other places," Michael said and smiled. "But the hour is late and it has been a hectic day, so I for one will leave for my bed."

"An excellent idea," Cal said and stretched her well-trained body. "A good night sleep and this squirrel will be as good as new. Maybe even my arm will be better."

They were apparently all tired and after wishing each other a good night's sleep they all left for their respective beds, unaware of the fact that they would not stay in them for long.

The sun had disappeared behind the horizon, the stars and the moon lit up the sky and Dirk Velvetpaw knew that most of the Redwallers were already asleep. Dirk waited a while longer, and then he knew that the time was at hand. Now was the time of sneaking steps in the dark, the time of shadows within shadows and the soft chirps of the lockpicks. The time of the cloak and dagger. Now was the hour of the thief.

He made his way for one of the walls, and even though he was a large animal he moved fast and silent. He heard something and froze on spot. Laughter and splashing. After a closer examination he found that it was only some old badger playing with some otters in the pond. He shrugged and continued. He had expected to find the Abbey under the protection of a badger, but he knew that if he was just bold and quick, he would get in and out of there before anyone knew what had happened. He used his grappling hook too climb the wall, and found a guard asleep on his post!

And dis is supposed te be a "cursed place impossible te rob"? Dirk though. Perhaps I've underestimated them?

He pulled up all of the grappling hook and returned it to his sash. Then he sneaked down from the battlements and made his way to a small side door. He quickly picked the lock and sneaked inside, eager to make history as the only thief ever to succeed in robbing Redwall Abbey.

When inside, he was disappointed in the low quantities of goods he actually found. He had imagined the place to be filled with riches. But he really did not care for the money. It was the reputation he would gain, to be spoken of many years after his death as one of the great master thieves.

But some valuables would not be totally wrong, he though as he stuffed his loot in his sack. He tried to move as quickly yet as silently as he could, not to awaken the sleeping Redwallers. Suddenly he heard someone coming, and quickly took cover deep in a dark corner and tried to make himself invisible. It was the badger who was returning from the pond, her fur still wet and muttering something about not being "too old to teach an otter how to swim". Then she chuckled and disappeared.

Dirk dared to breathe again. That was a close one, but the badger had been too tired to discover him. He decided to get out of the Abbey as fast as he could, and started picking loot at a higher rate. He soon found himself standing in front of the old tapestry, the most prised relic of Redwall.

For a moment, he wondered what it might be worth if he tried to steal it, or at least a piece of it. But then he looked at the picture of a mouse with a shining armour and a large sword, and suddenly chills went up his spine. He got the very unpleasant feeling that the warrior was staring angrily at him. Dirk was not superstitious, but he suddenly lost all urges to steal the old thing, and decided to let it hang where it was.

Finally he had stolen enough to at least get noticed. He only left a small note behind with the text: "With best regards: Dirk Velvetpaw, master thief." That would get the rumours going.

Dirk was undoubtedly good at what he was doing, and would have succeeded if not for one tiny detail. He had made the mistake of eating too early and suddenly felt the hard boot of hunger kicking him in the guts. Climbing walls and sneaking around was demanding and to every thief, timing is everything. For a brief moment his stomach wrestled with his brains and finally he fell for the temptation to sneak to the kitchen to steal something to eat.

Dirk was not the only one in the mood for a midnight snack. Abbot Lucius had been with leading the great and noble Abby and dealing with all the responsibilities generously given to him as Abbot and thus he had not had the time to have a proper supper, and was therefore heading for the kitchen to see if there was nothing left of that lovely cake he knew had been baked as late as last afternoon.

Although old and wise, Lucius was a simple mouse and did not handle unpleasant surprises very well. Thus, when he arrived to the kitchen and found a marten with a large sack next to him, drinking October Ale and eating the cake Lucius had just planned to get acquainted with, the shock was to great and he could do nothing but stand there and stare with eyes wide open. Dirk, who had noticed the mouse the very same moment as Lucius had noticed him, stopped eating and stared back, not sure what to do.

"Eh," he said. "Ops."

Something snapped within Abbot Lucius. "Thievery!" he shouted, his eyes blazing madly from a rage he never knew had existed. "Alarm! Theft and burglary of worst kind! Wake up! Wake up! He is stealing my cake!"

"Tails un whiskers!" Dirk cursed. He knew that it was only a matter of moments before the other residents of the Abby came running to aid their Abbot, so he had to get out of there quickly. He dropped the sack of loot, which would only be a burden during his escape, and ran past the Abbot, pushing the small mouse out of the way. Lucius hardly noticed and continued screaming like a madman while jumping up and down. "Take him! Catch him! He's getting away!"

Dirk did not need to sneak anymore, he ran as fast as he could, trying to remember the way out. He only managed to end up in a completely different area, facing a mouse with a huge sword in his paws.

Even though Dirk was much larger then the warrior and not at all a bad fighter, he had heard to many stories about the sword-wielding mice of Redwall to dare to take any chances. Reaching for one of the short blades on his back, he met the attack with a quick block and then kicked the mouse away from him. He then pulled out a bola from his Bag O'tricks and swung it around in the air two times before letting go, aiming for the warrior's legs. The mouse, who had lunged forward once again fell to the ground as the leather thong with its two metal weights were winded around his legs, making him trip. Dirk did not waste time. Out of the room. Down the hallway, turn left, open the door, turn right, open the other door…

And stand face to face with yet another warrior, this one a young squirrelmaid holding a cutlass in her frontpaw. Dirk cursed in his mind. Why did they all have swords nowadays?

The squirrel was fast and Dirk only merely evaded her attack. He tried to get a better position and drew his other sword. Even if his blades were both shorter then hers, he had an edge in having two weapons. But she was good, and even if her main arm appeared to be injured, thus forcing her to fight with her left, her speed and agility was astounding. Dirk knew that he could not hold her for long, especially since he knew that the other Redwallers soon would arrive. Perhaps the place is cursed? he though.

"Here he is!" the squirrel shouted, and Dirk could hear pawsteps closing in on him. He quickly spun around, threw one of his swords into a wooden pillar, put his hand down one of the many bags he always wore in his belt, ducked the squirrel's attack, spun around again and threw a cloud of a grey powder in her face. The squirrel immediately pulled back, coughing, sneezing and rubbing her eyes. This gave Dirk the precious little time he needed, and he pulled his sword out of the pillar and ran of again.

"I'm not getting caught!" he said to himself. "I'm not getting caught!

But Lady Misfortune continued to follow the poor marten, and soon led him into a dead end. Before he even knew what had happened, he found himself staring at a very annoyed badger and a large and well-armed cat. When he turned around he saw the mouse-warrior and the squirrel, the last one still suffering from the effect of his powder, cutting of his escape. He turned back towards the cat and the badger.

"Eh, hello," he said and looked up on the two of them. "I seem te be lost. Have ye seen di exit?"

"The exit?" Hortense said in mock surprise. "Well, have you seen any exit around here, Sir Silverslash?"

"I am not sure, Madam Ashstripe," Snowflake said. "I have this long wooden handle with a sharp steel edge in one end, will that due?"

"No, no, no," Hortense said and shook her head. "That is a battleaxe, my dear boy. An exit is the same thing as a way out. A battleaxe is a heavy melee weapon that you use when you want to cleave someone's head in two separate pieces!"

"Oh," Snowflake said and smiled. "Well, what do you know?"

After a while, thing started to quiet down. Confused mice and other creatures stopped running around, asking what had happened. The stolen properties had been returned. The thief had been imprisoned. Even the Abbot had calmed down after that Brother Paul, the old chef, had promised to personally bake him a new nut-cake to replace the one that had been eaten by the "vile criminal and scum of a marten".

Finally, Bleys and Hortense brought Dirk before Lucius, Michael and Cal. Cal was still upset over the unpleasant treatment he had given her.

"Let me have him!" she hissed. "I will teach him a thing or two! I will make him wish his family tree never even took root and started to grow! I will…"

"No!" Lucius said. "Even though this is a… Hmmm… very serious crime, I will not let it take an end in some personal vendetta." He leaned forward and defiantly looked the marten in the eyes. "Even though it goes against my better judgement! Now, I would like to throw you into the deepest dungeon we have, but since Redwall is not known for its deep dungeons, we will just have to lock you up in a temporary cell until we can decide what to do with you."

"Look, I know I'm not exactly a saint, but I swear on mi father's grave I never meant any harm!" Dirk said. Michael found it hard to place his peculiar accent, which gave him something of a suitable roguishness. "I'm just a simple thief, tryin' to make mi a name."

"Perhaps," Lucius said. "But we have had our share of thieves before, and it often ended in one tragedy or another. We are peaceful here at Redwall, but somewhere we must draw the line!" He turned to the fox and the badger. "Take him away. Treat him well, his punishment can wait until tomorrow."

Cal muttered something as the marten was more or less carried away by Bleys and Hortense. Lucius suddenly looked very tired. Michael noticed this.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

"This is not a good sign," the Abbot sighed. "One misfortune never comes alone, they travel in groups. I just hope that we can handle the others as well as this one." He looked up at the Warrior, as if he had just noticed that he was there. "I am tired, my son, and so are you. We must return to our beds and try to get some sleep. Tomorrow is another day."

Michael nodded silently. He was worried by the Abbot's words. He had known Lucius for a long time, and he knew that when the old mouse started to get prophetical, the times were right to worry.

And not far from Redwall Abbey, a mouse sat alone by a campfire. A mouse white as snow with a strange, spear-like weapon leaning towards his shoulders. The fire was reflected in his eyes, making them glow in a blood red light.