Triss. Part 9

Triss traced the charted line, which had been marked out on the map. It came out of Riftgard fjord, straight into the sea, travelling due west, then taking a broad swinging curve southward. Farther down, land was indicated, but only one side of the coast. Then the route went south, taking a sharp dip east toward the land where it indicated what looked like a river running out across a beach. Triss sighed.

"Well, it all looks very nice, but how do we know where we are in relation to all this? We could be anywhere."

Shogg, however, did not share her bafflement. "See that compa.s.s drawn in the left corner there? The North Star's marked clear, right over the north point o' the compa.s.s design. 'Ere, wot's this? Is it a blot of rnk or a tiny island, just off the route line where it starts to bend south? Look."

The squirrelmaid rubbed the dark speck with her paw. "Could be a blot, I suppose, or it may be an island."

Welfo moaned and rolled over. She was nearly falling from the bunk as Triss reached her and turned her back again. Wringing out the sc.r.a.p of cloth, the squirrelmaid wetted it again in a shallow dish of seawater and bathed her friend's face with it. Still completely out of her senses, the hogmaid licked at the salty dampness.

Shogg pursed his lips grimly. "She's got to 'ave water soon, fresh water. We all need drinkin' water, or we'll per- ish afore too long. You tend to the pore creature, Triss. I'm goin' up on deck for a look about, see if'n I can fix our position."

It was fully night, with just a sliver of moon, like a silvery nail paring, surrounded by stars in a cloudless sky. Shogg sat at the tiller, his head thrown back, exploring the countless points of starlight that dotted the velvet dark skies in dizzying numbers. After a while, the otter's neck began to ache, but he had made his decision. Pointing up at one bright, still jewel of the night, he spoke aloud to himself.

"That'n's the North Star, it's got t'be!"

Setting the tiller on course, he trimmed the single sail and began heading away from the star.

Triss tended to Welfo until the hogmaid lay still. So that she would not roll out of the bunk again, the squirrelmaid lay down beside her. It was not long before Triss closed her weary eyes and fell into a slumber. In her dreams she saw the sea, ever restless, wave lapping upon wave, murmuring with that soothing noise that only the vast deeps can produce. Gradually she realised that a voice was calling her, softly at first.

"Triss ... Trisscar, my daughter ... I see you."

A squirrel and a mouse were floating towards her, their paws not touching the water, which flattened itself to make a path for them. Although she could not remember his face, Triss knew that the squirrel was her father. She called to him. "Father . . . Father!" He smiled at her and pointed to the mouse.

Triss felt tears spill down her face as she heard herself saying, "Trisscar, I am called Trisscar? I never knew ..."

The image of her father began to fade as he spoke again. "Drufo would have told you .. . When the day came ..."

He faded altogether, and Triss was left alone with the mouse. She sensed immediately that this was no ordinary mouse. He was clad in shining armour and held a won- drous sword, the like of which she had never seen. Not even among the best blades in Princess Kurda's armoury. The mouse had a kindly face, although Triss could see the light of a warrior shining in his eyes. He reached out with the sword and touched her right paw gently with its tip.

His voice was warm and friendly, but stirring somehow. "Trisscar, that is a name for a great swordmaid. Sleep, my little Trisscar. Sleep!"

Then the vision was gone and she descended into the comforting darkness of deep slumber.

It was bright day when she awoke. Welfo was still sleeping, but her breathing was shallow and laboured. Triss hauled herself stiffly from the bunk. Her mouth felt dry as a bone, her tongue swollen and awkward. Blundering up on deck, she stood dumbly, watching Shogg. He was sitting at the tiller, shredding the strands from a short length of rope. It was several moments before he realised she was there.

The otter blinked wearily. "Jus' seein' if 1 could put t'gether a fishin' line. Don't know wot I'm supposed to use for bait. How's Welfo t'day?"

The squirrelmaid sat down beside him, drawing her ragged gown about her in the slight morning breeze. "Hmm, what? Oh, Welfo, she's sleeping. What d'you think, Shogg, are we going to die out here on this great sea?"

The otter continued picking at rope strands. "Where would ye sooner die, missy, back at Riftgard as a slave-beast, or out 'ere on the deep with me at yore side?"

Triss managed a smile. She patted Shogg's paw. "I'd rather not die, if it's all the same to you, mate!"

The otter put aside the piece of rope. "Aye, I want to live, too, y'know. That's why I've set us a course by the North Star. We'll see if that dot on the map's a blot or an island."

Triss stared up at the bright morning sky. "But how can you do that? There's no stars about now,"

Shogg explained. "I located the North Star last night, sailed through the dark with it t'guide us. Right up till 'twas startin' to dawn. Sun rises in the east, don't it? That's 'ow I fixed me position. With a bit of luck we'll find yore blot, missy, never fret."

Welfo appeared in the cabin doorway. She was shivering and could scarcely stand up. "I'm thirsty ... so thirsty!"

Triss hurried to help her, murmuring to Shogg, "Find water, if only for poor Welfo's sake!"

She hurried the hedgehog maid back to her bunk and laid her down, talking soothingly to her. "There now, you have a little nap. We'll soon get you water. Let's take a look at that slingstone wound. Oh, it's looking much better today, I'll just bathe it with some seawater. There, that's nice and cool, isn't it?"

As Welfo's eyes were closing, she spoke to the squirrel-maid. "Is your name Trisscar?" Triss was taken aback. "Yes, it is, who told you that?" Welfo murmured as she sank into a daze, "You did, last night. Trisscar, I am called Trisscar/ You said it out loud." The dream came back to Triss as she stroked her sleeping friend's brow. Trisscar, that is a name for a great sword-maid! Trisscar, that is a name for a great sword-maid!

Redwall Abbey's twin bells pealed out to the new dawn. Down in the kitchens, Friar Gooch ceased ladling carrot and fennel sauce over a batch of mushroom pasties he was about to fold and crimp. Furrel, his faithful molemaid a.s.sistant, stirred a potful of hot honey ready for candying chestnuts. She allowed the ladle to rest, smiling fondly.

"Hurr, oi loikes ee bells, they'm wunnerful musick to start off'n a h'extra sunny mawnin'. Wot do ee say, zurr?"

Gooch nodded vigorously as he opened an oven door. "I say you're right, friend, especially as 'tis the first day o' summer our bells are ringin' out for!"

Furrel almost tripped on her long cook's ap.r.o.n as she trundled swiftly to the kitchen door and called out. "Ee zummer bee's yurr, joy an' 'arpiness to all!"

The Abbey bells began ringing out an extra peal, to welcome in the new season. Gurdle Sprink came bustling up from the cellar, puffing as he carried a small keg. Skipper, who was returning from his morning exercises, b.u.mped into the fat Cellarhog and relieved him of his burden.

"Belay there, mate, let me carry that for ye. Oh, summer's 'ere, joy an' 'appiness to all!"

Gurdle shook the otter's paw, returning the traditional greeting for the new season. "Summer is 'ere, sir, aye, joy an' happiness to all, an' especially t'you, my big strong pal!"

Together they entered the kitchens, with the Abbot, clad in a fresh robe of clean linen, shuffling behind. Friar Gooch and Furrel met them, with much hugging, kissing, back-slapping and paw shaking as they exchanged greetings for the jolly occasion.

"Summer is here, joy and happiness to all!"

The Father Abbot's eyes gleamed with antic.i.p.ation. "And what, pray, is in that delightful-looking keg?"

Skipper placed it on the table. Curdle took out his little screw tap and knocked it into the bung keg. Sister Vernal appeared with Malbun and Crikulus in tow. They carried a tray full of delicate rock-crystal beakers, tiny things, which tinkled as they touched.

Before Gurdle could answer the Abbot's question, old Crikulus chuckled. "Wild-cherry-an'-redcurrant cordial, made on the final day of last summer. Good beast, Gurdle, I knew you'd bring it up from the cellars today!"

The Cellarhog looked slightly nonplussed that anybeast should know what his surprise offering was to be. He grumbled. "Aye, brought it up 'ere, just like I do on the first day of every summer season."

Abbot Apodemus placed a paw carefully around Gur-dle's spiky shoulders, smiling fondly. "What would Red-wall do without you, my old friend? I'm sure this will be the nicest wild-cherry-and-redcurrant cordial ever tasted in our beloved Abbey!"

The Cellarhog blushed to his spiketips as he busied himself pouring the sparkling cerise-hued liquid into the gla.s.ses. "Kindly said, Father Abbot, Well, 'ere's long life an' good fortune to us all!"

Memm Flackery came hurtling in and relieved Gurdle of two gla.s.ses, which she quaffed instantly. "A jolly loud hoorah for summer, wot? Joy an' happiness to all you bounders, who never woke me t'say this was bein' served.

I say, Gurdy old lad, this is absolutely toodle pip, well done, sah. Congrats!"

Foremole Urrm scuttled in and seized the last gla.s.s as Memm was about to reach for it. "Yurr gudd 'ealth, zurr an' marms, ee summer bee's yurr!"

Friar Gooch bowed to the Abbot. "Brekkist in the orchard I think, eh, Father?"

Apodemus beamed. "Why certainly, Friar, where else on such a day? I can't think of a more pleasant place!"

Memm Flackery interrupted. "Only after you've sat in Great Hall an' dealt with those dastardly Dibbuns who are on Abbot's Report, sah, wot!"

The Abbot's face fell. He disliked dealing out sentences, particularly to Dibbuns. Skipper saw this and provided an instant solution to the problem.

"Wot a mis'rable thing on the first day o' summer. Bring 'em up t'the orchard, pore riddle tykes. I was a Dibbun meself, y'know, we all were once."

The Harenurse cast a jaundiced eye upon the otter chief. "Perish the thought, you a Dibbun?" She shuddered.

Everybeast laughed at the indignant expression on Skipper's face. Seizing his otter friend's paw, the Abbot hurried him off to the orchard gladly.

"Thanks for getting me out of that task, you sensible ex-Dibbun. My my, but you have grown, haven't you?"

Beneath shady fruit trees, mottled by sunshine and shadow, Redwallers chattered merrily as they breakfasted at the long trestle tables and forms, which had been set up in the orchard by Log a Log and his Guosim shrews, who were enjoying a prolonged stay at Redwall.

Freshly scrubbed and wearing clean smocks, the Dibbuns were shepherded by Memm into their Abbot's presence. Adopting an att.i.tude of mock severity, Apodemus sat back, looking over the top of his spectacles at the two lines of apprehensive infants. He shook his head several times.

"What in the name of fur'n'whiskers am I to do with you, eh? Dearie me, what have you got to say for yourselves?"

Turfee the mousebabe stared hard at the ground. "Rug-gum'n'Bikkle sez you gonna chop off us tails. It not fair! Roobil be a molebabe an' 'im gotta likkle tail, but I bee's a mousebabe wiv a long tail. Not fair, Farver Habbit/'

Apodemus weighed this statement, scratching his whiskers. "Hmm, I take your point. What would you do with these villains, Skipper?"

Brandishing his javelin and scowling savagely, the big otter confronted the trembling miscreants. "Do with 'em, sir! Do with 'em! Why, I'd make the rogues dance twice round these tables singin' Honeybee Soup. That's wot I'd do, an' serve 'em right for their 'orrible crimes!"

The sentence was greeted with wild applause from the Dibbuns. Foremole Urrm took out a small moleedion and twiddled the opening bars of the jig, which was a great favourite with Abbeybabes. Ruggum and Bikkle deserted their seats and joined the little ones, prancing up and down.

Sister Vernal looked at them quizzically. "You two aren't on Abbot's Report. You don't have to do what Skipper asked!"

Grinning from ear to ear, Ruggum replied, "Hurr hurr, you'm troi an' stop uz, marm!"

Away the babes went, like a miniature whirlwind, jigging, hopping, leaping and singing wildly: "Mix honey with honey an' honey in honey, Get a big pot here an' pour it on thick, Honey, fine honey, so golden an' sunny, We'll stir it all up with a green willow stick.

Nod your head wag your tail, Sup it from pan or pail, Join up our paws an' go round in a loop, Buzz like the bees do to flowers an' trees, But fetch me a bowl of good b.u.mblebee Soup.

Oh b.u.mblebee, don't stumble or tumble, Come out of the flowers now, back to your hives, Fly back to your home, sir, an' fill up each comb there, For granma's an' granpa's an' babies an' wives.

Striped all with fluffy down, Golden an' furry brown, Bow to your partner an' yell a great whoop, Now form a square, an' you may find it there, A bowl of your favourite b.u.mblebee Soup!"

Right back to the first verse the little creatures went, paws joined as they whizzed around the orchard at an alarming rate.

Memm shook her head in despair. "Will you just look at that villain Roobil! I've tried to teach him the flippin' words a dozen or more times. But will he pay attention, wot wot? Indeed he won't. Rumpitty turn, that's all he'll " sing, the little bounder. Listen to him. Rumpitty turn, rumpitty turn, rumpitty bloomin' turn!"

Foremole Urrm nodded admiringly as Roobil vaulted over his lap and shot off around the pear trees. "Burr hoo, but ee doo 'ave a foine turn o' paw, marm. Thurr goes ee mole choild arfter moi own 'eart, burr aye!"

Malbun Grimp agreed wholeheartedly with him. "Aye, I don't think I'd be worrying about learnin' words if I could dance half as good as Roobil!"

Crikulus, who was sitting on the other side of Malbun, looked rather gloomy all of a sudden. He murmured to his companions, "I don't expect it'll rain or storm tonight. That's put the block on us goin' out to search for Brock-hall."

Malbun pondered his words for a few moments before replying. "You could be right there. But I don't intend let-tin' the weather, or lack of it, get in our way. All we need to do is to keep out of the way of those crows. Suppose I was to ask Log a Log and one of those big otters from Skipper 's crew to come with us. Surely a Guosim Chieftain and that hefty young otter Churk could get us through quietly, without upsetting those birds. Log a Log's an expert tracker, and Churk is well versed in woodland waysI like her."

Crikulus nodded, keeping his eyes on the dancing Dib-buns. "Good idea, Malbun, but don't let anybeast save Log a Log and Churk know. No point in havin' them all wor-ryin' about us. We'll slip off after supper, the four of us, eh?"

Malbun agreed. "Aye, after supper, but don't breathe a word. If the Abbot finds out, he'll forbid us to go."

It was right at that moment that the Abbot stood up and made an announcement. "My friends, Redwallers all. It is my wish that we celebrate the new season this evening with a feast!"

Everybeast applauded the good news wildly. A groan of despair came from Crikulus as he noticed that the two creatures cheering loudest were none other than Churk and Log a Log.

The ancient Gatekeeper sighed mournfully. "They'll never accompany us tonight, Malbun. We'll just have to put the whole thing off until another time."

Malbun's jaw set in a stubborn line. "Not me, my friend. I'm going. Who needs those two to guide us? Look at us, we're two well-seasoned creatures. Why shouldn't we do the job ourselves?"

Crikulus gnawed doubtfully at his whisker ends. "Out in the woodlands at night, on our own. Dearie me, I don't know, Malbun, I just don't know...."

Malbun, however, was not ready to brook excuses or arguments. "Well, I'll go alone. I'm not a Dibbun who's afraid of the woodlands in the dark. Don't you worry, I can fend for myself!"

Crikulus clasped his old friend's paw. "No, no, I'll go with you. This is a joint effort, y'know."

The Abbot was watching the pair. He commented to Skipper, who was sitting next to him, "What d'you suppose those old fogeys are whispering about?"

The otter spread damson preserve thickly on a scone. "Wot, y'mean Malbun'n'Crikulus? I expect they're plan-nin' on singin' their song at the feast, Father. You know, that funny one where they both dress up."

Apodemus turned his attention to a bowl of oatmeal. "Yes, that'll be it. I like that song, it's good fun!"

Throughout the day the buzz of excitement continued. Skipper and an a.s.sortment of moles and shrews went to lend a paw in the kitchens. Log a Log and some of the others vanished into the cellars with Gurdle Sprink. Memm Flackery and Sister Vernal took the Dibbuns off to gather flowers and lay the tables. Foremole Urrm recruited Malbun and Crikulus to help him serve buffet lunch and afternoon snacks on the steps outside the gatehouse. Redwall Abbey became a hive of activity in preparation for the coming feast. Everybeast was busy and cheerful.

Memm and the Sister were hugely pleased at the way the Dibbuns behaved themselves. The Abbeybabes' conduct was exemplary; not one objection was heard at bath time. They even stood uncomplaining whilst getting dried and dressed.

The Harenurse kept praising them as she combed and brushed each one. "Oh I say, J.G.D., you chaps, A and B the CofD.Wot!"

Sister Vernal gave Memm an odd glance. "What are all those letters you're spouting, marm?"

The Harenurse explained. "J.G.D. means Jolly Good Dibbuns, an' A and B the C of D? Thought you'd know that 'un, Vernal. It means above and beyond the call of duty. Good, eh?"

Lining the Dibbuns up and inspecting them, Sister Vernal nodded approvingly before dismissing the little creatures. "Very good, right. G and P and T.T.S.C.... O.E.!"

Bikkle sniffed and wrinkled her nose at the Sister. "Wot dat all mean, Sissa?"

Vernal waved a cautionary paw under Bikkle's nose. "It means, go and play and try to stay clean.... Or else!"

Crikulus and Malbun sat down on the wallstairs during a lull in their duties. Malbun murmured to her friend in low, frustrated tones, "Did y'hear that, everybeast's saying that you and I are going to do our dress-up monologue at the feast. Huh, that's the last thing we'll want to be doing this evening!"

The ancient gatekeeper shrugged. "Nothing for it, we'll just have t'do it, I suppose."

Malbun's eyes lit up as an idea occurred to her. "Right! After the feasting is done, we'll volunteer to go first with our performance. When we've finished, we'll pretend that we feel tired and excuse ourselves. n.o.beast will suspect us of leaving the Abbey then, eh?"

Crikulus still felt slightly unhappy about the venture. "Hmm, I suppose you're right."

From its commencement at early twilight, the feast was a complete success. Brilliantly decorated and lantern-lit tables groaned under the weight of superb food. Still warm from the ovens, fresh-baked breads with crusts ranging from gold to deep brown vied with vegetable salads, fruit junkets, cheeses, pasties, tarts, cakes and turnovers, plus a huge cauldron of the moles' favourite, deeper'n'ever turnip'n'tater'n'beetroot pie. There were hot herbal teas, cordials of all types and a barrel of Special October Ale on tap for the elders. Back and forth the delicious fare went from paw to paw amid banter, laughter and animated conversation.

Extra lamps and lanterns were lit as darkness fell and the entertainment commenced. Malbun and Crikulus performed their monologue, which was actually a duologue. It was a great favourite with all Redwallers, especially the Dibbuns, who had armed themselves with slapsticks for the finale. Malbun was dressed as a searat, with padded stomach and bottom, large floppy hat, bra.s.s earrings, a patch on one eye and a wobbly sword made from soft tree bark. Old Crikulus had garbed himself as a grandmother mouse. He wore a billowy frock, a lacy shawl and a fussy, beribboned bonnet. They strode toward one another, as if meeting on a woodland path. Malbun eyed Crikulus fiercely and declaimed aloud in a rough voice: "Here be I a searat fierce, an' this to all I say, I'm evil, villainous, bad an' tough, Let n.o.beast stand in me way!