The Outcast of Redwall Part 27

A full moon hung like a burnished shield in skies of deep velvet blue, watching the friends making their good-byes. Tog-get had become very fond of the bats and promised he would return to visit them someday. "Hurr, you'm watch owt furr Togget, gudd flyen mouses, burr aye!"

As the five marched off on a secret route that would take them around the waterfall, hundreds of bats wheeled around them in the night, whispering, "Safe seasons, seasons. Goodbye friends, good-bye, friends,"

Skirting the high rocks at dawn, Bryony looked back at the white mist with its rainbow. Sunflash helped her over a small gurgling brook, saying, ' "Thinking of anything special, mis-sie?"

Bending, the mousemaid let the brook water run through her paws. "Oh, yes, sir, I'll never forget the waterfall as long as I live. It was so beautiful, but so dangerous. I'll hear those waters in my dreams for many a long season."

The going was easy, and late summer weather proved pleasant. A leisurely pace was dictated by their healing wounds and the fact that Sunflash wanted to take cuttings and young plants from practically everywhere. Togget taught Rockleg and Fleet-runn to tug at their noses and speak in a rustic manner. Bry-

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ony could scarce stifle her laughter at the two hares and the mole, chewing on long straws and presenting the Badger Lord with the strangest things as they affected the tone of b.u.mpkins.

"Oo arr, Lordy Sunnyflash, yurr be a wunnerful stone, may-'ap if'n ee plant it, 'twill grow into a bootiful pebblebush!"

Sunflash played them well at their own game, tossing the stone up and batting it out of sight with his mace, aping their speech: "Whoi thankee, gaffer Rockleg, p'raps if yon pebble sticks up inna sky 'twill become a shiny star one night!"

Early in the morning of the third day, they arrived at the junction of the river and slipstream. Immediately the bankvole Ilfril poked his head out in high bad temper. "D'ye know yer tres-pa.s.sin'? Who are yer?"

The metal-studded end of a huge battle mace thudded down near the hole entrance, and Ilfril found himself staring into a great, gold-striped badger's face, whose voice boomed out, "I am Sunflash the Mace, Badger Lord of Salamandastron, and I like a bankvole for breakfast each morn. Who are you?"

There was a frantic scuttle of paws as Ilfril fled down into his home, followed by a nervous squeak. "Er, haha! Just a pore creature who lives down here an' minds his own business, Lord, feel free to walk anywhere!"

They sat laughing at the river's edge, watching the sprawling raft pull up to the bank. Duddle cried out heartily: "Welcome friends, an' jump aboard, Yore welcome to all we can afford, There's the wife, two liddle 'uns, an' meself, An' plenty o' vittles upon the shelf!"

Arundo came dashing from the hut in the center of the raft. He stared in awe at the badger and said, "Can I jump on yore thtomach, thir?"

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Rockleg winked at the little hedgehog. "Of course you can, ole chap, as long as y'let Lord Sunflash jump on yore stomach first, wot?"

Clematis Roselea came out to wag a paw at them. "You know what will happen if my mama catches any of you jum-pin' on each other's stomachs?"

Togget smiled and nodded. "Aye, she'm cutten our tails off'n us wi' a single swipe, missie!"

Arundo confirmed this with a chopping sweep of his tiny paw. "Thingle thwipe, thtraight off!"

Immediately they were aboard; Duddle cast off and lashed the tiller in position. Introductions were made all round and a happy band of voyagers retired to the cabin-hut for a celebration breakfast.

Bryony thought the cabin seemed smaller, though it was only the ma.s.sive presence of Sunflash within the confined s.p.a.ce that created this impression. Even though the fragrant aromas arising from the stove in tantalizing wisps set his mouth to watering, Duddle Pollspike felt it was his duty to first make an announcement.

"Ahem! Good creatures all, before my goodwife, Tutty, an' m'self serve vittles, allow me to inform you about our course. I have charted a network of navigable waterways that will take us close to Redwall Abbey. So do not be alarmed, friends, you are in good an' capable paws. Now, my liddle riverplum, let us show these pore starvelings what a floatin' banquet looks like...."

Duddle was about to say more, when Tutty raised a ladle ominously. "Faith'n'fishgills, you ole windbag, are you goin' to blather on 'til suppertime? Stir yore stumps afore I chop yore tail off!"

Duddle draped a napkin over his paw, muttering as he gravitated between stove and table, carrying heaped dishes. "To hear is to obey, my violent violet, the banks'd be strewn with 345.

chopped-off tails if you had yore way. Gangway there, you ravenous rovers, make way for this wild-cherry-an'-meadowcream pie, move that jug o' cowslip cordial, some-beast."

Eyes widened as dish after dish was brought to table.

"One basin o' rivershrimp-an'-watercress soup!"

"White cheese with sage an' acorn, hot rye-bread cottage loaf!"

"Almond-an'-chestnut slices with red-currant preserve!"

"Damson-an1-greengage pudden. Been up since three hours afore dawn cookin' all this. Stream-bank salad with hazel-nuts!"

Sunflash had both young hogs sitting on his lap. Clematis Roselea clasped his ma.s.sive paw, cautioning him, "You must be very good, sir, jus' like me. Don't dare touch anything until the table is set. Or else ... !"

The Badger Lord pulled a frightened face and made the tail-chopping motion. Little Arundo nodded wisely. "Ho yeth, my mama even chopth badgerth tailth off!"

Breakfast meandered on until past lunchtime. There was so much to tell: tales of mountain, waterfall, and riverbank filled the cabin hut, and Arundo and Clematis Roselea listened open-mouthed as their elders related stories, histories, and reminiscences. Sunlight darted between the floating lilies of silent water meadows and shaded inlets as the raft cruised smoothly, wending its way down the broad river. It was, as Bryony later summed it up, "A good time full of friends and fine food!" While Duddle went out on deck to tack into a northeast waterway, Rockleg persuaded Fleetrunn to sing a riddle song. She began by tapping a lively rhythm on the tabletop and, when they were all tapping in time with her, Fleetrunn sang.

' 'My first is in boulder and I have a stone, My second is thrice in an apple alone, 346.

My third may be found at the end of a hem, My fourth starts a stick and a stop and a stem, My fifth's in the middle of pop, but not pip, My sixth is the second you'll find in a snip.

My first half can stop up a broad river's flow, My second half no daughter, the other you know.

I'm found in pudden and pie and good wine, And I know all your names, so can you tell me mine?''

There was much scratching of heads and gnawing of paws as they tried to find the answer to Fleetrunn's riddle song. Grinning cheerily, Duddle popped his head in the window. "Ahoy! I was listenin' to yore tune as I was standtn' at the tiller. Well sung, Reetrunn, I ain't heard the ole damson-plum riddle song in many a season; my ole dad used to sing it!"

Tutty flung an apple core at Duddle; he ducked and came up still smiling, saying, "Did I say something amiss, my liddle flowin' duckweed?"

His wife stamped her footpaw, glaring at him. "Flow-ers'n'follies! You just told us the answer when y'said damson-plum riddle song; 'tis a damson, ain't it!"

Duddle climbed through the window and helped himself to a ladle of damson-and-greengage pudden. "Right first time, my winnowing willow, do I win a prize?' *

The company fell about laughing as Tutty seized Duddle's ear. "Permycloud'n'poppies! I'll give you a prize. You can wash all the pots'n'dishes, that's yore prize, you great water-b.u.mble!"

Throughout that day, laughter broke out afresh as Rockleg strode the deck of the raft, imitating Duddle skillfully. "Is it a damson plum, my delightful dandelion? Fetch me a prize!"

46.

Abbess Meriam was quietly enjoying the change of season. Paws tucked into her wide sleeves, she glided through the early morning mist that wreathed the orchard as if a cloud had fallen upon it. The coming days would see the beginning of harvesttime, apples ranging from red to russet-brown contrasted with mellow golden pears. Damp and dawn-dewed, the berries trailing from vine and creeper shone like jewels.

Meriam paused to look up at the vast Abbey rising from die mist; its warm red sandstone appeared softer, more dusky, in the day's first hours.

Without warning, the little molemaid Figgul came dashing through the misty ground swathe and collided with the Abbess. Meriam steadied herself against a chestnut tree. "Lack a day, little one, you nearly knocked the paws from under me. What is it?"

Figgul held up a fallen elm leaf excitedly. "Hurr lookee, marm, ee leafs be turnen brown!"

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Abbess Meriam smiled down at the mole, stroking her head. "It's called autumn. The leaves become like this because trees do not need them in the winter season. You'll be able to help with the harvest, Figgul. I recall last autumn you were too small. Remember Sister Withe let you sleep most of the day in an apple basket? But now you are big enough to help fill the baskets. Come on, we'd best go in to breakfast."

Abbess and molemaid were soon swallowed up by the mist as they crossed the lawn toward Redwall's main Abbey door.

"Hurr, can oi cloimb to ee top of arpel trees, marm?"

"No, no, we don't climb the trees; if you shake the lower boughs the fruit that is ripe will fall."

"Burr aye, then oi be a bough shaker an oi shake 'em gudd'n' 'ard!"

"You'll have to watch-you don't shake any down onto your head. I remember a little mole named Togget doing that-he was knocked senseless by a big green pie apple."

Hazy sunlight was dispelling the ground mist as Sumin the squirrel rapped his javelin on the threshold gate of Redwall. He had traveled through the night to reach the Abbey. He knocked once more. Barlom's voice called to him as he paced the path impatiently.

"Who goes there? Is it you, Sumin?"

"Of course it is, you know my knock! Open up, friend!"

The Recorder mouse swung the gates wide enough to admit the st.u.r.dy squirrel. Barlom brushed his paw along Sumin's tail. "Tut, tut! Look at you, drenched in dew. Come and dry off."

Sumin merely shook himself and strode purposefully off across the lawn toward the Abbey building. "No time for that, mate-got news for the Abbess!"

Breakfast dishes were still being cleared; the servers dawdled close to the Mother Abbess's chair, staring curiously at 349.

Sumin, to overhear the news. Meriam fixed them with a cool glance as she rose from the table, saying, "Busy paws are far more useful than busy ears."

Hurriedly they resumed their duties. Meriam indicated by a flick of her eyelids that she would see Sumin in her study. When Sumin and the Abbess vacated the dining place, speculation broke out among the Redwallers. "What d'you suppose it is?"

"Hope it's not vermin headed this way or anything nasty!" "Ole Sumin looked as if he'd been travelin' hard, eh?" Foremole spoke to them over the top of a tablecloth he was folding carefully into a neat oblong. "Burr, ee be gurt gossip-ers! Oi 'spect ee h'abbess will tell you'm all when she'm gudd'n'ready, hurr aye, so she'm will."

For what seemed an age, the Abbess and Sumin remained closeted together while the squirrel related news of the victorious battle. More Redwallers left off their ch.o.r.es and found excuses to be inside Great Hall, where they all stood about, doing nothing, yet trying to look industrious.

Friar Bunfold and Myrtle the hogwife came from the kitchens, followed by a retinue of cooks and helpers. The Friar clapped flour from his paws and installed himself in the Abbess's chair. "Might as well wait in comfort, come on, sit down, you lot, no use pretendin' yore busy when you ain't. I'm plain nosy, always have been, make no secret o' the fact."

Bunfold had just finished speaking when Meriam and Sumin entered. The Friar leapt up as if he had been sitting on a tack; vacating the Abbess's chair, he began busily polishing an imaginary stain from the tabletop with a corner of his floury ap.r.o.n.

Abbess Meriam shook Sumin's paw heartily, smiling one of her rare smiles.

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"Thank you so much, my friend. I'm sure there is lots of good hot food in the kitchens if you haven't eaten today."

The stout squirrel needed no second invitation; he strode off eagerly. The Abbess flicked a little flour dust from her chair and sat, pausing to look around the waiting faces before she started speaking.

"By tomorrow noon I would like a feast set up. I know Redwall banquets have always been without equal, but let us try to make this particular one legendary!"

Myrtle raised a paw, trying to tease more information out. "Er, 'ow many will we be cookin' for, marm?"

Meriam's answer set them wondering. "Twice as many as usual should be adequate, Myrtle."

Heartwood, the old otter, banged his walking stick down. "Mother Abbess, will you please tell us what is going on here? Who are we expecting, why the legendary feast? Tell us!"

A loud rumble of agreement echoed around Great Hall.

The Abbess held up her paws placatingly until silence fell. "Please, friends, I know it looks as though I'm teasing you, but honestly, I'm not. All I can say is this. We are going to be visited tomorrow by friends, some old and others new to us. The reason why I can tell you no more is simply because gossip travels, and I do not want the surprise spoiled for a very dear friend, who shall remain nameless for the moment. So I appeal to you as Redwallers, do your jobs well and silently, and I know you will be rewarded by a sight such as Redwall has never seen, the visitation of a great creature to our Abbey. I'm sorry, but that is all I can say for the present."

Sister Withe banged the table so hard that everybeast jumped. "Well, that will do me fine! Your word is good enough for me, Mother Abbess, and I'm sure I speak for all Redwallers!"

Everybeast hurried to agree.

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"Aye, my lips are sealed!"

"Say no more, marm, nod's as good as a wink t'me!" "You'm can trust us'n's, marm, ho urr!" "Right! Let's get to it!"

"Aye, what're we all stannin' about like apples in an oven for? Come on, Redwallers, stir yore stumps!"

That day and the following night, Redwall became a hive of activity. Flower gardeners staggered in under ma.s.ses of blooms and blossoms, delivering them to mouse- and mole-maids appointed as table decorators. Otters performed acrobatic feats alongside squirrels, garlanding high wall- and windowledges with streamers, lanterns, flowers, and flags. Crisp white table linen was unfolded and aired, embroiderers working on linen serviettes and place mats. Fresh-dyed rush carpeting was spread on the twice-swept stone floors. Beeswax candles were trimmed and stuck in spiked sconces. Standing on a wide shelf in the kitchens, Friar Bunfold directed cooking operations, calling out in his high squeaky voice as he kept a professional eye on all.

"Bring more firewood, I need those ovens hotter than hot!"

Cooks called aloud to him as they worked.

"Will this be enough wild cherries an' almonds for the slices?"

"No, bring two bowls more, nothin' worse than skimped cherry and almond slices. You moles there! Make sure you lift that little 'un out of the deep bowl before you put in yore deeper'n'ever pie mixture, we don't want a small mole baked in a pie!"

"Hurrhurr, oi doan't moind, zurr, oi'd be warmed an* fed at ee same toime, hurrhurr!"

"Coom out'n thurr, Puckle, an' stop scoffin' ee pastry!"

"Big fruitcake's about ready for the oven, Friar!"

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"Righto, Myrtle, start mixin' strawberries in with the mea-dowcream, not too many now, it's got to be pink, not red!"

"Watershrimps an' fresh b.u.t.ton mushrooms. Friar, otter-twins just brought 'em in-where d'you want 'em?"

"Oh, right! Take them to Heartwood and tell him not to let that hotroot pepper get near my hazelnut scones!"

"I 'eard you, Bunfold, the 'otroot's goin' nowheres near yore scones; tell that squirrel to keep 'is 'oney away from my soup!"

"Brushtip, did you hear Heartwood? Mind what yore doin' with that honey-put plenty in the scone mixture. Oh, well done! That's a nice lattice tart cover. Nothin' prettier than a blackberry-an'-pear tart with a good crisscross lattice of pastry on it. Open the top ovens, I can smell that bread, it's ready!"

"Friar, will you tell Brother Frimble that the cream is supposed to be piped onto woodland trifle in swirls, not blobs!"