Brother Hollyberry took Samkim’s face in both paws and stared into the young squirrel’s eyes. “And you say it fell from the skies? Are you sure, young un? This isn’t just some piece of mischief you are dreaming up, is it?”

“No, Brother, honest! Arula, tell him!”

“Oh, aye, zurr. Sanken doant be a-tellen whoppers. Et be true.”

“Well, I for one find it all pretty hard to swallow.” Bremmun snorted. “Granted it is a beautiful sword and it might even be the very one that belonged to Martin, but swords don’t just fall out of the sky like rain. There’s more to all this, I’m sure. Listen, Samkim young fellow, if this turns out to be some kind of joke, tidying the Infirmary up a bit will be nothing compared to the penalty I’ll impose on you—and you, too, Arula!”

“Hold hard a moment, Bremmun, before you say something that you’ll regret later. I believe Samkim!” Sister Nasturtium stepped forward, her normally jolly face stern as she placed a paw upon Samkim’s shoulder. “I think Martin the Warrior is making his presence felt in our Abbey. Lately I have been saying strange poems and singing songs that I have never even heard before—most of you have heard me. If the spirit of Redwall is trying to tell us something, then the least we can do is listen!”

Abbess Vale lifted her gaze from the shining weapon. “I agree with you, Sister. Brother Hal, as Abbey Recorder and Historian I want you to examine the past records of Redwall. There are many lessons to be learned from the past, and I have no doubt that the old writings will provide a clue to tonight’s strange events. You may start first thing tomorrow morning. Meanwhile, we shall lay the sword in front of our great tapestry, close to the picture of Martin. As for the Nameday celebrations, it is getting rather late, I suggest we abandon the indoor games . . .”

A wail of protest arose from the young ones, but the Abbess silenced them with a wave of her paw as she continued, “Tomorrow the weather will most likely be fine, so the games can be held outdoors all day. Is that a satisfactory solution?”

The wailing was quickly replaced by shouts of joy.

Thrugg slapped his rudderlike tail upon the floor. “Righto, me ’earties. Off to your bunks an’ get snorin’!”