The Outcast of Redwall

45

Three days they camped on the rivers edge at the foot of Bat Mountpit, the full hospitality of Duskskin and his bats at their disposal. Wounds were dressed and weary limbs rested; they were brought fresh fruit, white mushrooms that had never seen the light of day, caveshrimp, and many other strange delicacies from the depths of the curious realm within the mountains.

Sunflash kept making Bryony and Togget repeat anything they knew of his mother, Bella of Brocktree, the great silver badger. He marveled that she was still living, and kept repeating her name over and over. “Bella, Bella, I must see her, I will go to Redwall with you.

For the first time in three days, the mousemaid smiled. “What with my injured back, your cracked skull, and Toggets wounded shoulder, we should just about make up one whole creature to go walking through Redwalls gates.

Sunflash gave orders to his Long Patrol. “Sabretache, you and Colonel Sandgall will command all at Salamandastron until my return. On your way back, search and find my hawk Skarlath, take him to the mountain and bury him high on a sunny slope overlooking the sea. Rockleg and Reetrunn, you will accompany me and our friends to Redwall Abbey.

Lord Duskskin called them from the edge of the cave entrance. “You will leave tonight, tonight. My scouts will go with you and guide you, guide you. I have sent out requests to my friends, friends. The Pollspike raft awaits you two days hence, two days hence. Go in peace, in peace!

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, youm 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, Ill never forget the waterfall as long as I live. It was so beautiful, but so dangerous. Ill 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. Bryony 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 bumpkins.

“Oo arr, Lordy Sunnyflash, yurr be a wunnerful stone, may-ap ifn 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, praps 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. “Dye know yer tres-passin? 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 badgers 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 rivers 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, Theres 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?

Rockleg winked at the little hedgehog. “Of course you can, ole chap, as long as ylet 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 others stomachs?

Togget smiled and nodded. “Aye, shem cutten our tails offn 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 massive presence of Sunflash within the confined space 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 mself 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. “Faithnfishgills, 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 banksd be strewn with 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 massive paw, cautioning him, “You must be very good, sir, jus like me. Dont 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,

My third may be found at the end of a hem,

My fourth starts a stick and a stop and a stem,

My fifths in the middle of pop, but not pip,

My sixth is the second youll find in a snip.

My first half can stop up a broad rivers flow,

My second half no daughter, the other you know.

Im 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 Fleetrunns 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 aint 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-ersnfollies! You just told us the answer when ysaid damson-plum riddle song; tis a damson, aint 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 Duddles ear. “Permycloudnpoppies! Ill give you a prize. You can wash all the potsndishes, thats yore prize, you great water-bumble!

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!