“Good evening, Martin. Don’t answer, just keep eating; we want you up and about as soon as possible.”

The warrior mouse did as he was bidden. Soon all the woodlanders had gathered around him.

“Look, Martin’s awake now!”

“My, my, doesn’t he look well!”

“Urr, loivly as pepper ’n’ strong as ale.”

“Haha, ahoy there, shipmate.”

“Well, how do you feel, Champion of Mossflower?” Bella chuckled happily.

Martin gazed about him at the friendly faces and smiled through the tears falling from his eyes.

“Good to be alive, Bella!”

There was a loud cheer, then the voices poured in thick and fast.

“Guess what, matey—while you were asleep I wedded Columbine.”

“Yes, Gonff’s given up being a thief—I’ve seen to that.”

“Ha, we found them a place, y’know, while we were out on border patrol down south along the path. It’s just inside the woods.”

“Yes, it’s a tiny old church called Saint Ninian’s or somesuch. How it came there, goodness knows. It’s all overgrown and rickety.”

“Oh, my Gonff will soon fix that up.”

“Hey, matey, have you noticed that the lake’s gone down a bit? Skipper and Log-a-Log have practically refloated Wuddshipp.”

“Indeed they have. Before summer’s out we’ll be shipping stone down from the quarry near Gingivere’s Farm.”

“Have you heard? We’re going to build a great stone Abbey.”

“A huge place where we can all live together.”

“Right at the side of the path, not far from where Gonff will be living with Columbine.”

Bella waved her paws for order. “Hush now. Go and enjoy yourselves. Our warrior has fallen asleep listening to your chatter.”

The fires burned low, though the festivities continued on the lakeshore as the sounds of happiness drifted up into the soft summer night, traveling onto the places beyond the stars, where legends live.

Some creature was knocking on the gatehouse door.

Bella of Brockhall rose slowly from her armchair by the embers of the fire and shuffled across to the threshold.

A fine plump mouse stood framed against the starstrewn night. He entered, nodding toward the small mouse who lay asleep, propped up on the arm of the chair by a cushion.

“I knew he’d be here listening to your stories, marm.”

Bella squinted closely at the plump mouse. “You must be Gonff, son of Gonff and Columbine from Saint Ninian’s. I thought I recognized your son. He’s the image of his grandfather.”

The plump mouse chuckled. “Aye, you’d better check your candied chestnuts and cheese, marm. There’s nothing safe while he’s around. Lucky he’s asleep, eh.”

Bella picked up the sleeping mouse with great gentleness. “Little rogue. Look, his tunic’s full of acorns. Wonder where he got them from. Come on, I’ll carry him back home for you.”

Together they made their way south along the dusty path, Bella talking quietly as they went.

“Pity he went to sleep like that. I never told him of the great vow that Martin made when he hung up his sword to become a Redwall mouse. Or of the wonderful feast when the main gate was raised. That was when you were born, y’know. Hoho, we certainly made a double celebration of it that summer. Skipper of otters ate so much that he sank in the Abbey pool, and Lady Amber dived in to fish him out. Did your mum and dad ever tell you about it?”