Author's notes at the end of the chapter

Rose followed Martin through the cellars and up the passageway toward Great Hall. He was talking animatedly about the collection of books, new and old, in the Redwall library. Rose smiled as she listened to him talk. When she first met him on the northland coast they hadn't had time to discuss books and reading. They'd been far too focused on the rescue of the other slaves to be bothered with such mundane activities. Now she wished that she would have shown him her father's books. Perhaps Urran Voh would not have reacted so strongly to him then.

"I'm hoping Vurg and the others will be up there," Martin was saying as they walked up the sloping passageway that led to Great Hall. "I think they'll enjoy meeting you."

Rose shook herself, recalling her mind back to the present as she placed a steadying paw on the wall of the passageway. Her footpaws were feeling a bit sore. "Who?"

Martin grinned at her over his shoulder, matching his pace to hers as she slowed down. "Vurg, Denno, and Dulam were all good friends of my father when I was a baby. They came back to Redwall with us after we found them in the North two summers ago. Though I should warn you that it may be a bit rowdy if Beau is up there too. He and Vurg are always engaging in friendly arguments."

Rose giggled. "Sounds like Rowanoak and Ballaw," she said, smiling at the thought of her two friends. Wanderers though they were, they had become quite fond of Noonvale, even coming to call it home.

"Do they argue often?" Martin asked.

Rose rolled her eyes in mock exasperation. "All the time. Oh!" She nearly ran into Martin as he came to a sudden stop at the end of the passageway.

"Sorry," Martin murmured. He peered around the corner into Great Hall looking both ways before he stepped out of the passage. He held up a cautionary paw, still looking around the hall.

Rose peered around at the empty room. There was nobeast in sight. "What are you looking for?"

"Dibbuns."

Rose rubbed a paw in her ears, not entirely certain she'd heard right. "Dibbuns?" As far as she knew, all the abbey youngsters were engaged in the scavenger hunt.

Martin nodded. "Call it habit," he said, "You never know where they're hiding. Normally it wouldn't be a problem, but they've figured out that I usually award the prize for the scavenger hunt. A few of the rogues have taken to trying to find it in my pockets before the game's finished."

Rose grinned. "So that's why you've got those candied chestnuts with you. Tintin said he saw you pocketing them on your way through the kitchens this morning."

Martin nodded. "Aye, and I don't want you getting caught in the crossfire if they spot me." He peered around once more and began across Great Hall.

The sandstone floor of Great Hall was warm from the heat of the kitchens below. Bright spots of color danced about on the stones, cast by the sunlight streaming through the colored glass in the windows. Rose could hear dibbuns laughing somewhere in the distance.

Martin, it seemed, had heard them too. He turned back toward the steps that led down into Cavern Hole, staring briefly into the shadows of the passage before grasping Rose's paw. "Hurry!" He hissed, walking faster

Rose did her best to keep up, but her footpaws were beginning to ache."Ow!" Rose's footpaws twisted beneath her and she nearly fell to the ground. Martin caught her before she hit the ground, his face creased with concern. Looking over his shoulder Rose saw the shadow of a great cat climbing the stairs from Cavern Hole. She struggled upright, her left footpaw still twinging painfully as she pointed at the approaching shadows.

"Hold on!" Martin hissed in her ear. Looping an arm about her waist, he swung her up and carried her into a nearby alcove.

Rose froze as Martin pressed her against the pillar, keeping her close as he peered around the edge. They were in no real danger, but the short, sudden run and the intensity in Martin's eyes had startled her, to say the least. Martin still had a paw around her shoulders, pulling her close. He had gotten taller, Rose realized with a start. They'd been nearly the same height when she first met him at Marshank. But now, pressed close as she was, she realized that he was at least half a head taller than her. She caught his eye as he glanced away from the dibbuns, and found herself captivated by the soft grey stare. He did not look away. She felt as though her heart might beat out of her chest. Martin's stare intensified, and for a moment Rose thought she saw a faint trace of recognition in his gaze. If her heart had been pounding like a drum before, then Rose thought surely it must be doing a decent impression of a percussion ensemble.

"Hoi, what's all this?" The moment was shattered as Tintin's voice carried across the hall.

Rose found herself shaking as Martin looked back to the dibbuns. He whispered in her ear. "We'd best make a run for it while your nephew has them distracted."

Rose was about to remind Martin that she couldn't run, when he threw one arm around her waist and the other behind her legs, swinging her up once again as easily as if she were a dibbun herself. She barely had time to grab hold of his shoulders before the warrior mouse took off toward the stairs, grinning broadly.

It took only a pawful of moments to reach the stairs. Martin did not set Rose down until they were sufficiently hidden from view of Great Hall. "Sorry about that," he said, still grinning as he caught his breath. "I had to take the chance while we had it."

Rose leaned against the wall, the rush of the moment having left her breathless. Now in the relative safety of the stairs she could finally catch her breath. A sudden burst of giggles overtook her, and she clamped a paw across her mouth in an attempt to stifle them.

Martin looked at her in confusion. "What?"

It took a moment before Rose could answer. "Look at us, two grown mice running away from dibbuns." She broke off as the giggles returned.

Martin soon joined her, chuckling at the supposed danger they had just escaped. "I suppose if dibbuns are the only thing I have to run from for the rest of my life, it'll be more than enough for me." He held out a paw for Rose to lean on, and the two of them continued up the stairs, still laughing.

Brome froze, temporarily robbed of breath. The silence of the infirmary hung in the air nearly as tangible as a sheet of dust brushed from something long forgotten. He swallowed, trying to think of a coherent sentence. How had the abbess known? Taking a shaky breath, he forced a smile onto his face and shook his head. "I'm sorry, I don't know what you mean."

Abbess Germaine smiled knowingly at him, her dark eyes shadowed by sadness. "Come now young one, there is no need for secrets."

The smile fell from Bome's face, and he stared at his paws in shame. She was right, of course, there was no need to keep her in the dark. "How did you know?" he asked.

"I may be old and hard of hearing," the Abbess said, leaning forward with a smile, "But I still have my wits about me, and my eyes have yet to give out. I saw you and your sister the night you joined us here in the abbey, when Martin came into Cavern Hole. Any other creature who had not seen a dear friend for some time would have run to greet him, yet you did not. I also saw the look on your sister's face when Gingivere told of how Tzarmina broke Martin's sword before throwing him in the dungeon. Many passing travelers have heard that tale, and many of our own. And yet, until that night I had never seen a creature whose face, upon hearing the tale, so perfectly mirrored the agony our warrior must have felt at the loss of his sword."

Brome nodded, blinking back the tears that threatened to fall each time he thought of how Martin must have felt when the sword snapped. "Rose knows how much that sword meant to Martin, and how much it cost him to retrieve it." He stood, and moved to sit next to the abbess, staring out the window at the snow-covered wall beyond. "Many of the creatures I travel with believe it a good thing that the sword was reforged. They feel that remaking the blade has removed the tarnish on it from the seasons spent in the paws of a warlord. I only hope Martin would agree. He doesn't remember us, but he doesn't remember the seasons he lived as a slave either, and I can't decide if that's a blessing or a curse." He fell silent, waiting for the Abbess' response, still watching the sun play upon the snow on the wall.

Dust motes floated gently through the air, dancing through the sun like specks of gold while the silence stretched on.

Finally, the Abbess spoke. "Perhaps it is not for you to decide. Martin may not remember anything from his time as a slave, but that does not mean that he does not know that he once was one. Scars may fade over time, but they do not always disappear. It is a noble thought to try and spare him unnecessary pain." She sighed softly, and, turning to her, Brome saw the hints of a smile playing across her mouth. "But a part of me wonders if perhaps it is akin to my wish to spare new mothers the pain of childbirth. Sometimes a bit of pain makes the joys of life that much brighter."

Brome nodded, turning the thought over in his head. "I hadn't thought of it that way."

"I cannot blame you for that," the Abbess said. "You've only just recently learned of Martin's lack of memories. Two busy days is hardly enough time to consider all the different ways you might approach the problem." The smile fell from her face. "A part of me worries, though, that if you leave without telling him his past then he may never regain those lost memories. Martin is a strong creature, and quite brave. But even the strongest and bravest among us have their struggles." She paused, as though considering her next words. "I cannot tell you what you should do, that is something you will have to decide for yourself. But I do hope you will consider telling Martin what you know about his past. In the past few seasons he has begun to stress over his lost memories far more than he had previously. After the events of this past summer I fear it has begun to affect his health."

"What happened last summer," Brome asked, his chest suddenly tight at the thought of his old friend suffering in any way.

Abbess Germaine smiled reassuringly. "Oh, not to worry, he's perfectly fine now. Had a nasty summer cold that turned into a fever and had him bedridden for the better part of the season." She laughed quietly. "Although I wouldn't be surprised if part of that was because of the dibbuns that kept sneaking in to play with him. I had to threaten to have him moved up here to the infirmary before he agreed to tell them to leave him alone so he could sleep."

"He does seem to be quite popular with the youngsters," Brome said with a chuckle. He wiped his eyes briefly with the edge of his sleeve. "I'll ask Keyla and Yarrow what they think we should do. They spent a good portion of their dibbun days together with Martin, and know better than I do what all he's forgotten."

Abbess Germaine nodded. "Very good. You might talk to Gonff as well."

"Gonff?" Brome asked. "The Mousethief?"

"He was largely responsible for helping Martin remember their journey to Salamondastron. He might have a few tips on how you could jog Martin's memories now," Abbess Germaine said with a smile.

Brome considered her suggestion for a moment before nodding. "I'll do that."

"Thank you, Brome," Abbess Germaine said. She lay back against the pillows. "Would you please tell Bella that I'll be taking a short nap up here before dinner? To much celebration and not enough sleep wears down on these old bones of mine."

Brome nodded, standing and walking toward the door. "I will. Sleep well, Mother Abbess."

A hush lay across Cavern Hole as Gonff emerged from the kitchens later that afternoon with a bundle under one arm and munching on a honey biscuit. Dibbuns sat clustered in groups of three and four around the hall, some huddled around adults, others off on their own as they pondered over scraps of parchment and slate.

Gonff spotted Columbine sitting with a group near the stairs to Great Hall and made his way to her.

"How goes the scavenger hunt, my Dearest Darling?" he asked her when he got closer.

He was answered by a round of shushing from the nearby dibbuns, and one baby squirrel who glared sternly at him.

Columbine stood quickly and beckoned for him to follow, guiding him onto the stairs. Her eyes shone with laughter.

Gonff looked back over Cavern Hole, whispering, "Goodness me, Columbine. What did you give those babes to make them so ferocious?"

Columbine laughed aloud then, shaking her head at him. "They've nearly solved their riddles for the prize," she said. "You distracted them." She looked at the bundle under his arm. "Have you finished moving Martin in from the gatehouse?"

Gonff nodded and patted his bundle. "Aye. Found the last of Brother Scrittum's measuring tools too. Figured I'd bring 'em up with me and save Martin the trip."

"How very kind of you," Columbine said, smiling at him. "If you happen to see Martin, could you let him know the dibbuns are nearly finished with their quest?" She didn't wait for his response but kissed him briefly on the cheek before returning to her group.

Gonff smiled after her for a moment before continuing on his way upstairs.

He found Brother Scrittum in the library, in the company of Sister Amyl. The pair were pouring over some old text on the desk in front of them with extra quills, ink, and parchment arrayed on either side.

The library was a cozy little room situated on the western end of the second floor of the Abbey. Afternoon winter sun streamed in through the single window above Brother Scittum's desk, tinting the air with a warm, golden glow. Candles supplemented the fading sunlight and banished shadows from the corners of the room.

Soft murmurs sounded from one of these corners, and Gonff turned to see Martin and Rose sitting together pouring over a book. He recognized the book immediately not as the Legend of Sheodin, which he had expected, but rather as the hefty tome Denno, Dulam, Vurg, and Beau had written on the last quest of Luke the Warrior. They looked so natural sitting there, with Rose wrapped in a blanket and snuggled next to Martin while he held the book so they could both see, that Gonff almost would have thought that they did this regularly. Martin had a soft, quietly content smile on his face. A smile Gonff had seen before, but only rarely. He cleared his throat softly, making his presence known.

The pair looked up quickly with matching quizzical expressions. Gonff couldn't help but laugh.

"Shall I have the kitchen send yor supper up 'ere?" he teased. "You two look comfortable enough to stay there for hours."

Martin scowled at him, although Gonff knew the look well enough to know that there was no real weight behind it and merely continued to grin. A moment later Martin's resolve cracked and he began to grin as well. "Is it that late already?" he asked.

Gonff shook his head. "Not quite. But Columbine wanted me to let you know that the dibbuns are nearly done with their scavenger hunt. They'll be wanting their prizes soon."

"I s'pose I should head down to hand them out, then," Martin said. He set aside the book and stood from the pillows he and Rose were seated on, stretching languidly. Turning, he retrieved the book and offered Rose a paw to help her up. "I hope I haven't bored you."

Rose shook her head as she stood. "Not at all." She smiled at him. "I enjoyed it immensely. Thank you for sharing it with me."

Martin stared at her for a moment before turning sharply on his toes to put the book away, his ears practically glowing red.

Gonff let out a hearty laugh and patted Rose on the shoulder. "Ahaha! I don't think I've ever seen anybeast fluster 'im so quickly." He turned to Martin. "Don't hide yor face, you great lump. The maid's being sweet, you'll make 'er think you took it the wrong way."

Slowly, Martin turned back to them, his ears still red. He glanced around for a moment before motioning to the bundle Gonff carried. "What's that?"

"What, this?" Gonff held it up. "Dinny found th' last o' Brother Scittum's writin' tools for you. I figured I'd bring it up 'ere."

"Thank you," Martin said. "I'm sure you can leave it with Brother Scrittum and Sister Amyl." He turned to Rose. "I'm going to head down to Cavern Hole to give the dibbuns their prizes, would you like to come along?"

Rose sighed and lifted a footpaw. "I'd love to, but I'm afraid I need to fetch my crutches first." She shooed Martin toward the door. "You go on ahead and don't worry about me. I can still walk, I'll just have to go a bit slower."

Martin nodded slowly, reluctantly making his way to the door. "Gonff, could you-"

"I'll stay with 'er 'til she gets 'er crutches," Gonff said. He mimicked Rose's shooing. "Now off you go, those dibbuns won't wait forever."

Martin nodded. "I'll see you both downstairs in a bit, then," he said and left the room.

Gonff watched him leave before returning the measuring tools to Brother Scrittum. The elderly brother patted his paw several times and tried to offer him a candied chestnut.

"No, no, really, I don't need anymore," Gonff said, waving his paws.

"What he means-" said Sister Amyl, taking the candied chestnut and placing it back in Brother Scrittum's pocket- "is that he's probably already filched a few from you."

"Oh yes, I see," said Brother Scrittum, winking at Gonff. He patted the mousethief's paw once more. "You take care of yourself now, lad."

"O' course, Brother," Gonff said, carefully extracting himself and returning to Rose. He doffed an imaginary hat and swept into a deep bow. "Might I have the pleasure of escorting you to Great Hall, miss?"

Rose giggled and bobbed a curtsy. "Why thank you very much, my kind sir." She took his offered paw and they swept out of the library, both still giggling.

Once out in the corridor, Gonff allowed Rose to set the pace as they meandered their way down to Great Hall. She was humming a happy tune to which Gonff began to whistle once he caught the pattern. After they'd repeated the tune three times, Gonff turned to Rose and said, "I don't believe I've ever seen a beast turn Martin red that quickly. You'll have to tell me yor secret sometime."

Rose giggled. "I'll be sure to tell you when I discover it for myself," she said with a wink. "It was a good story."

"You didn't get all the way through, I assume," Gonff said. "It took Denno most o' the night to read the whole thing to us when we found 'em on the Arfship."

"No." Rose shook her head. "We only just made it past the part where Luke left on his voyage." The smile faded from her face and she stopped walking. "It explains a lot, really."

Gonff cocked his head to one side. "Y'mean like where he got 'is sense of honor an' such?"

Rose nodded slowly, her eyes looking through Gonff to some distant past. "And why he didn't believe me the first time I told him he was a warrior."

Gonff scratched his ear. "I must've missed that conversation."

Rose shook her head, opening and closing her mouth a few times.

Gonff didn't press her, but simply stood in the silence, waiting for her to speak again.

Finally, Rose let out a long sigh and looked up at Gonff resolutely. "I-"

"Rose, there you are!"

Both mice turn to see Brome making his way up the stairs. "I've been looking for you," he said, "And Gonff."

"Is something wrong?" Rose asked.

Brome shook his head. "No. Were you on your way to somewhere?"

"I'm escorting Miss Rose to Sister Amyl's room to retrieve her crutches," Gonff said, standing up straight and striking a pose.

Rose and Brome both giggled at him.

"Shall I join you, then?" Brome asked. "We can talk while we walk."

Gonff nodded, once again offering his arm to Rose. "Very well. Now, why're you looking for us?"

Brome fell into step on the other side of Rose. "It's a bit complicated." He turned toward his sister. "You recall that I was helping Abbess Germaine in the infirmary this afternoon?"

Rose nodded. "I remember."

"She's a rather sharp old mouse," Brome said.

Gonff chuckled. "That she is."

"Anyways," Brome went on, "she told me that she's figured us out."

"I see," Rose said, nodding slowly.

"Figured out what?" Gonff asked, dropping his usual joking manner.

Rose turned to him. "Figured out that we knew Martin before he came to Redwall," she said quietly.

"You're not surprised?" Brome asked when Gonff didn't react.

Gonff shrugged and pulled some pieces of paper from his pocket. "Nearly had it figured out m'self after finding these." He handed the sketches to Rose, who in turn handed them to Brome.

Brome examined the sketches of himself and Rose before handing them back to Gonff. "Martin's work, I assume?"

Gonff nodded.

"So he hadn't completely forgotten us," Brome said.

Rose shook her head. "But he doesn't seem to consciously remember us, either."

The trio had reached the bottom of the stairs as they spoke and entered the bustling noise of Redwallers and travelers preparing to descend to Cavern Hole for the night's feast.

Gonff motioned Rose and Brome off to one side. "I take it you want my help in jogging Martin's memories?"

Brome nodded. "Aye. Abbess Germaine said you were the one who helped him regain lost memories after the war with Tzarmina was over."

Gonff frowned. "I was. But that was pretty soon after he lost those memories, and he still doesn't remember everything we went through. Gettin' 'im to remember now will likely be a bit harder."

Rose's face fell.

Gonff smiled at her. "Now, now. Don't give up hope. I didn't say it was impossible." He looked back and forth between her and Brome. "Tell you what, I'll think this over for the evening and we can meet again after brekkist tomorrow."

Brome grinned and held out a paw. "We'll gather the rest of the Players together and let them know what we're trying to do. Thank you for your help."

They shook paws and parted ways, Gonff heading off to Cavern Hole, and Brome and Rose to find the rest of Players after retrieving Rose's crutches.

Gonff found himself distracted during the night's performance, trying to watch both Martin and the Players as the feast progressed. He did, however, notice that Martin was in unusually high spirits, joining in the laughter and applause with far more energy than he had the previous two nights.

"Are you quite alright, Gonff?" Columbine asked him as they prepared for bed in their little room. "You've been a bit quieter this evening. Tummy ache?"

Gonff shook himself and pulled his wife into an impromptu dance. "Wot? Me, quiet? Never!" He spun her around the room until they both collapsed, giggling, onto the bed.

"Hahaha-hu-haha-hush, Gonff!" Columbine gasped. "You'll wake Gonfflet."

Gonff smiled at her, cupping her cheek with one paw and planting a kiss on her nose. "The little rascal's already fast asleep. No need to worry about 'im."

Columbine giggled again and sat up. "Maybe not, but you still haven't told me why you've been quieter this evening." She put her paws on her hips and fixed a stern expression on her face. "Now you'd best tell me before I'm forced to tickle it out of you."

"No! No tickles!" Gonff cried, throwing his paws in the air in mock horror. "I'll tell." He sat up, taking Columbine's paws in his. "Just a conversation from earlier today that I haven't quite figured out an answer to yet," he said. "That's all, nothing to worry about."

"You're sure?" Columbine asked.

Gonff nodded. "I am. Now-" he grinned and flung himself backward onto the bed- "We'd best get to sleep ourselves to make tomorrow come sooner."

Columbine giggled and joined him. "If you insist, my Prince of Mousethieves."

"I do." He blew out the candle next to the bed and they both went to sleep.

As always, a big thank you to the wonderful Lady Storm for her help with beta-reading and editing

As I'm sure most of you have noticed, this chapter took quite a bit longer to put out. I am sorry for that. It was not intentional and hopefully won't happen again to the same extent.

However, I don't anticipate new chapters of RMM returning to the original once-a-month schedule. You see, during the three-year break, I have begun working on a piece of original fiction. It's still in the early stages of development (first draft hasn't been completed and there's still a lot of world-building to do), but I've been trying to work on it diligently. I'll be posting small updates on it at the end of new chapters from now on, but if any of you lovely readers would like to see more in-depth info on it, please feel free to follow the Tumblr blog I've started for it, "Moiranvall-official".

Review Responses:

Faith: Thank you ^_^

Nebula212255: Thank you very much, I hope this chapter captures the characters just as well.

Wolf-shinigame: Thank you for your kind words, I hope this chapter makes up for the long wait

Ackermom: Thank you for giving RMM a try, and I'm sorry to have stopped updating so soon after you found it. I hope you'll continue reading

Icefur: Thank you very much ^_^ having come back to RMM, I have no intentions of leaving it unfinish, it'll just take a bit longer

Remnants of Fantasy: Thank you for your kind words. I know I'm a year late, but I hope you will consider continuing reading, and I wish you well with your own writing endevors.

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