The Outcast of Redwall

19

Extract from the writings ofBarlom, Recorder Mouse of Red-wall Abbey and grandson of Timballisto, who was friend to Martin the Warrior.

I wish that I had known Martin the Warrior, but alas he is gone with the other heroes who helped to build this beautiful Abbey. My grandfather Timballisto (peace be upon his memory) used to tell me tales when I was a tiny Dibbun, stories of the wild old times. He would often sing songs or recite poems about the warriors who fought and helped to form our order, battled against tremendous odds, and made this Redwatl, this way of life for all of us whom they would never live to see. But that is the way of things, and we revere their names now, knowing they sleep in peace after a task well done. Only one remains amongst us; they say she is a living miracle, Bella the Ancient of Brockhall.

I had always known that female badgers have a great life span, but I have heard even the most senior of our elders say that the silver badger will go on forever. Poor creature, she is the most loving of beasts, almost blind with age now, a snail could move faster than she. Bella never talks of the old days. Abbess Meriam says that is because it is too painful for her. Long ago Bella lost a son of her own; nobeast knows what became of him. Now she cares for our young, the Dibbuns, and all the Abbeybabes are very fond of her. I myself have seen her send a wailing babe to sleep with merely a stroke of her paw upon its head. I hope that she will be with us for many long seasons yet; they say a badger may live almost four times as long as others, let us hope this is so.

Tonight there is to be a feast; we will be celebrating the memory of the great ones, Martin, Gonff the Mouse-thief, Columbine, Dinny the mole, Abbess Germaine, Ben Stickle, my own grandsire Timballisto, and a list of heroes, friends, and Redwallers too long to mention. There will be no sadness, but great joy in our Abbeyhow could we be unhappy to recall those who live forever in our minds? It would shame their memories for us to weep at table!

But enough of my ramblings. Im so absentminded that I missed lunch today, but that is soon to be remedied, for I hear the gruff tuneless singing of my friend Togget, grandson of Dinny. He never forgets to bring me a snack if he misses my face at table.

“Ho a bumblybee eem a wunnerful burd, Sings a song loike youm never hurrd, Ho a fuzzbuzz fuzzbuzz fuzzbuzz buzz, Thats all eem ever duzz duzz duzz!

Togget trundled into the gatehouse, bearing a tray covered with a cloth, then, bowing low, he whisked off the cloth neatly. “If n twerent furr oi, maister Barlom, eed starve-nunger gurtly. Veggible zoop, Tober Ale, applencheese furr ee!

Barlom took them gratefully from his friend. “What would I do without you, Togget? How can I repay you for your constant kindness to a dusty old Recorder?

The moles heavy digging claw reached out for Barloms quill. “Let oi make writin marks in ee gurt book, zurr.

“Hmm, well all right, just one, right here at the bottom of the page where nobeast will notice. Dip your pen, Togget.

Togget licked the quill point several times before dunking it deep into the inkwell. Smiling broadly, the little mole flourished the quill and bent to write at the foot of the page. Barlom smiled as he watched him. Eyes scrunched, tongue sticking from the side of his mouth, Togget concentrated on writing a big scrawling X. He dotted it with a full stop.

“Thurr, that be et, moi name! he announced.

Barlom shook his head as he retrieved his quill pen. “Thats not your name. Youre called Togget, that says ex. “

The mole nodded sagely. “Aye, hex, that be moi mark, oi be gudd at makin et, hurr!

Alongside the cross, Barlom wrote the name Togget. “There, thats how you write your name, see.

The mole patted his friends paw sympathetically. “Sum-toimes oi wunner why theym callen you a cleverbeast, maister Barlom, youm no gurt writer o moi name, hurr no! Ho well, oim off twake ee Friar oop now. Gubbye, zurr.

As soon as Togget was gone, Barlom burst out laughing.

Young Bryony watched Togget approaching as she sat sunning herself against the great Abbey wall. The pretty little mouse-maid wore a mob cap askew, and her white apron was stained with berry juice. She patted flourdust from her paws as she rose to meet her friend, complaining, “Ole Bunnys still snoring, I cant wake him.

Togget waved a paw in the air as if creating a spell. “Youm leave thatbeast to oi, moi dear.

Friar Bunfold was sleeping in his favorite place, an old wheelbarrow in the orchard. His bulging stomach rose and fell with each snore, the leaves of an overhanging pear tree trembling with every exhalation of his breath. Bryony covered her mouth to stifle a giggle as her molefriend shook the fat mousefriar by his sleeve urgently. “Coom on, ole zurr, wakey oop, ee toald oi to wake ee ifn ee gurt cake was a burnen in ee hoven!

Bunfold fell out of the barrow with a start. “Cake burning, where, what cake?

As Togget and Bryony ambled back off to the kitchens the mole nodded ruefully. “Dearie me, but oi do tell whackin fibbers, tho et did wake ole Bunny oop, hurr hurr, that et did!

Cheerful Redwallers called out to Bunfold as he bustled through Great Hall on his way to the kitchens.

“Good afternoon. Friar. Whats for dinner tonight?

Exercising his dry wit, Bunfold gave a mock scowl at a young squirrel. “Boiled frog an toasted clouds for you, Brugg, mladdo!

Brugg made a face, playing along with the Friar. “Yukk! Sooner have lightnin soup an ditchwater!

Togget managed to pull Bruggs tail as he passed. “Loight-nen zoopnditchwatter, oill see wot oi cn do for ee, maister, bo urr!

Bryony giggled helplessly at the face Brugg made, and gasped, “Dont be sad, Brugg, Ill see if I can bake a little thundercake to dip in your lightnin soup, hahahaha!

The Abbey kitchens were all abustle, clouds of steam wreathing the woodlanders as they dashed to and fro. A huge hedgehog wife called Myrtle waved a ladle at a large cake that lay on a stone cooling slab, saying, “Dyou want to slice it now, Friar? It baked well.

Selecting a flat, thin slicing knife, Bunfold winked at her. “Burnt cake eh, well lets see. Togget, bring the cherry conserve. Heartwood, is that meadowcream ready yet?

Heartwood, a reliable old otter, dipped his spoon into a pottery bowl and sampled the golden mixture. “Stirred gently to a turn, Friar matey, ready as ever!

Lifting the bowl, Bunfold was forced lo execute a nimble sideskip for two tiny otters scooting past with a laden trolley, both yelling in deep olderbeast voices, “Gangwaaaaay, watch ybacks there, mates!

Bunfold arrested their progress, catching both by their aprons as he halted the trolley with a quick footpaw. “Whoa there, steady up, Dibbuns. Whats all this?

The otter twins, Blatt and Scrimmo, waggled their tails respectfully at the Redwall Friar.

“Buttn mushrooms, matey, sir!

“Aye, an watershrimps too, sir, matey!

Bunfold sorted through the snowy white mushrooms and inspected the netful of almost transparent watershrimp. “Good work, Dibbuns. Did you gather these?

“Sir, this very mornin out in the woods, matey.

“Our mum elped us too, she said to bring em straight tyou.

Bunfold rummaged in his apron pocket and, pulling forth two candied chestnuts, he gave the otters one each. “Champion stuff! Dont forget an thank your mum for me. Theyll make great pasties for the feast this evenin. Want to stay and watch me cutnfill this big cake?

Blatt and Scrimmo nodded furiously. Myrtle lifted both and stood them on the cooling slab for a good view of the proceedings.

Togget stood by, tottering wearily, both paws latched firmly on to the handles of a sizeable jar. “Youm gunner chatter-njaw wi they two hotters or fix oop ee cake, maister? Thisn aint gettin much loighter, burr no.

With swift sureness Bunfold sliced through the sides of the pale fawn cake, and then sliced again. The little otters watched wide-eyed as the Friar worked, separating the cake into three flat circles, moist and gently steaming. Bryony closed her eyes, savoring the aroma.

Heartwood smiled at the otters, “By okey, mates, it do smell good!

Blatt and Scrimmo were allowed to wield flat beech wood spreaders, covering the bottom layer until it was one thick smooth circle of dark red conserve. Then Togget and Bryony took their turn, layering the middle tier even more thickly with meadowcream. Heartwood and the Friar carefully placed the three circles together in their former positions and coated the cake generously with the remainder of the meadowcream.

The six cake makers began decorating, working around the sides and top with a random pattern of hazelnut and almond flakes, sliced early strawberries, and tiny young rose leaves crystallized in honey. The finished cake attracted great attention. Redwallers gathered round to admire and comment on the masterpiece that had been created in their kitchens.

“Its the very picture of a spring afternoon!

“Bo urr, et surpintly lukks wunnerful coolncreamloike!

“Yes, shame it has to be eaten, really.

“Hah! Ymean twould be a shame not to eat it!

“Bet I could eat the lot, all on my own!

“Greedyguts, youd be sick for two seasons!

“But itd be well worth it for a cake like that!

“Hush now, here comes Mother Abbess!

All work in the kitchens stopped as Meriam Abbess of Red-wall entered; never appearing to walk, she glided in like a swan crossing a still lake. Meriam was tall for a mouse, slender and of middle seasons, though her great wisdom and serenity would have done credit to one twice her age. Clad in a simple long robe of pale green belted by a soft white cord, paws folded into her wide sleeves, the Mother Abbess of Red-wall radiated calm and respect to everybeast around her. A rare fleeting smile hovered about her hazel eyes as she viewed the confection and said, “A truly beautiful cake, Friar Bun-fold.

Bunfold bowed, his chubby face glowing with pleasure. “Thankee, marm, I had lots o good help tmake it.

A brief nod passed between Bryony and the Abbess, who said, “I would not doubt the truth of that, Friar. It might have spoiled in the oven whilst you were napping in the orchard, had it not been for the vigilance of Togget and our little flower, Bryony.

The surprise on Bunfolds face was forestalled as Meriam continued speaking, lowering the tone of her voice. “You are a good old Friara little rest each noontide is not begrudged you, Bunfold. Leave this now, I am sure your helpers can prepare the festive food well enough. I need the wise counsel of yourself and Heartwood. Please accompany me to the gatehouse. Barlom has a visitor waiting there.

Friar Bunfold swiftly untied his apron and hung it up, wiping face and paws on a clean towel as he issued orders to Togget. “Could you make up a tray and bring it to the gatehouse, my friend? Hot mint tea, a flagon of cold fruit cordial, some of those scones we baked this morning, oh, and a plate of the thin arrowroot and almond slices that the Abbess favours, theres a good mole!

“Hurr that oi am, roight away, zurr Bunny!

Toggets words were lost upon Bunfold; he and Heartwood were scurrying off in the wake of Abbess Meriam, who was gliding away from them rapidly.

Barlom was self-appointed as Gatekeeperthe gatehouse was one of the few places he could carry out his Recorders duty in relative peace. A solid-looking squirrel named Sumin often dropped by to chat with him, and he was headed there that day on Barloms request, to discuss the strange visitors arrival.

Sumin arrived with the Abbess and, in his stout, no-nonsense way, held open the door for her, nodding curtly. “Marm, tis a kestrel within your gatehouse, dont be feared. Im sure he means harm to nobeast.

The Abbess gestured for Sumin to enter. “Mayhap you should hear what this bird has to say. Please come in with us, my friend.

When Bunfold and Heartwood arrived they entered also, leaving the gatehouse door ajar. The fierce, handsome kestrel was perched on a chairback, watching all with keen golden eyes. As Meriam introduced herself and the others, the hawk watched them in silence, his head coming up sharply as a knock sounded on the door, followed by Toggets voice.

“Yurrs drinknvittles furr ee goodbeasts insoid o thurr!

Heartwood took the tray and closed the door. The food was placed before the kestrel, who dipped his beak courteously, and said, “My name is Skarlath. I serve Sunflash the Mace, Lord of Salamandastron, a great warrior!

Meriam held her paws outward, a sign of peace. “You are welcome within our walls, Skarlath. Redwall Abbey is open to all goodbeasts who come seeking rest and food.

Hunching his wings, the kestrel leaned forward. “My thanks to you, Abbess, but I have time for neither food nor rest. I felt duty bound to bring news when I saw your Abbey.

My Lord Sunflash has a great and merciless foe, Swartt Six-claw the ferret Warlord. They are sworn enemies for many long seasons now.

Meriam poured herself a little mint tea. “We have heard often of Salamandastronit is a place that stands for freedom and justice, protecting the far coast. Though you will forgive me for saying that we have no knowledge of Sunflash the Mace, or of this Swartt Sixclaw. What have they to do with us, Skarlath?

The kestrel opened one wing and pointed north. “Even as I speak, Swartt is coming this way with his great horde of vermin. Your Abbey lies in his path. I came to give you warning. Sixclaw is strong and evil, and, though he seeks Sunflash, I am certain that he will try to conquer Redwall if he sets eyes upon it.

Sumin was well experienced; he had spent many seasons ranging Mossflower country. He nodded in agreement with Skarlath. “You are right, friend, this is always the way with vermin, especially those who travel in great bands. But what would you have us do? Salamandastron is too far away to ally ourselves with your Lord.

Skarlath swooped from the chairback to the door. “If Swartt comes to Salamandastron, Sunflash is well able to deal with him. I do not know the strength of your warriors here, so I cannot suggest your course of actionI merely come to warn you of the danger. Now I must be gone; my Lord will want to know of the ferrets movements. Seasons and fates be with you!

Without further ado, Skarlath unlatched the gatehouse door and soared off. The Abbey dwellers stood in the doorway, watching the hawks flight, south by west. When he had been swallowed up by the blue vault of the sky, they went indoors to hold counsel.

Abbess Meriam looked from one to the other. “Friends, this is serious news. Redwall appears to be in great danger. What do you think?

Barlom spoke up. “Where is this ferret Warlord and his horde? Skarlath didnt say, exactly. One day away, two, maybe a week ... or just a few hours, who knows?

“Then we must find out straight away. Heartwoods voice held no hesitation. “I say we raise our own army and train them. Swartt wont get Redwall without a fight.

Friar Bunfold stamped his footpaw angrily. “Aye, well show the vermin a thing or two!

“Wait. Not so fast, Sumin interrupted the irate Friar.

“You talk as if Redwall were full of trained warriors and fighting beasts, but I doubt if any of us but Bella has ever seen a real vermin horde, or realize the damage and slaughter they could inflict upon Redwall!

Barlom thumped the tabletop, sending quill and parchments fluttering, then he banged the table once more for effect. “Whats to stop us training our own army? Better that than to sit about waiting for a Warlords horde to conquer us!

Meriam placed a restraining paw on her Recorders shoulder. “Shouting will get us nowhere, Barlom. I think we should hear more of what Sumin has to say.

The sturdy squirrel outlined a plan that had been forming in his mind. “What if this Swartt never gets as far as our Abbey? What if he has to take a different route to Salamandastron?

Heartwood looked mystified. “Why should he do that, mate? He shrugged. “You heard the hawk say Swartt was headed down the path towards us. Why should he change course?

The Abbess placed a paw to her lips. “Sshh! Listen to Sumin and find out! Carry on, friend.

The squirrel outlined a bold and daring scheme. “Squirrel archers an otter slingthrowers, thats what we need. Ill bet me an Heartwood could raise a goodly band of em from around this part o Mossflower. Now, we take them north up the path an intercept the vermin, stayin on the east side of em all the time. Then we hit an run, all the while stayin out o sight so Swartt doesnt know what numbers hes up against. A good squirrel archer or otter slinger who knows the lay o the land can make himself seem like six, workin undercover. We strike an hit an keep on strikin an hittin, dodgin an hidin all the time! Make the ferret realize he cant stay out on the path in the open, force him off into the woods on the west side so the vermin have ttake to the west shores an follow south lookin for Salamandastron. That way Swartt wont use the road an hell never know the Abbey is here!

Barlom was quivering with eagerness. “Youre right, Sumin, Im coming with you!

The strong squirrel shook his head decisively. “No, Barlom. I take only squirrels who can vanish into trees, or otters who can fly underwateran invisible army!

Bunfold bit his lip in disappointment. “Why cant we go an strike a blow for Redwall an freedom? Men Barlom would make good warriors!

The Abbess placed her paws around their shoulders. “Of course you would, thats why youll be needed back here. If Sumins plan fails, Ill need fighters on our walls to defend the Abbey. Id like you and Barlom to be in command of Redwall should the need arise.

Bunfold tried to swell his chest, but only succeeded in puffing out his stomach. Barlom quivered slightly with pride and busied himself rearranging his parchment and quills.

“Nobeast in Redwall must know of Swartt and his horde, Abbess Meriam cautioned her friends. “What passed between us in this gatehouse remains secret. I will not have panic in my Abbeymost unseemly. We carry on with the feast this evening as planned.

Friar Bunfold noted the sad looks of Sumin and Heartwood. “Dont worry, brothers, you wont miss anything. When you return from defeatin the vermin Ill make you both a special welcome-back victory feast with my own two paws!