The Mother Abbess’s smile lit up the summer morn. “Right, that’s one problem we don’t have to worry about! Shall we adjourn to the walltops and keep out of their way?”
Trajidia Witherspyk, who was already on the ramparts with Flib, sang out shrilly, “Ahoy, below, I see two creatures approaching from afar!”
After a moment’s pause, Flib called, “It’s Ambry an’ Axtel. She’s carryin’ him on ’er shoulders.”
Shortly thereafter, a Guosim crew went racing out to meet them. The shrews were carrying a stretcher, on which Axtel was placed, despite his protests. Flib commandeered the warrior’s war hammer, granting herself the honour of carrying it back to the Abbey. Sister Fumbril met them at the south wallgate, shaking her head at the mole.
“Mister Axtel, sir, wot’ve I told ye about travellin’ on a wounded footpaw? It’ll never get better at this rate!”
Axtel Sturnclaw treated the Sister to one of his rare grins. “Oi’ll take ee h’advice then, marm. Frum naow on, oi’ll goo everywhere by stretcherer. These yurr shrewbeasts’ll carry oi. B’aint that roight, mateys?”
A groan of despair arose from the Guosim bearers. Axtel was no small wispy beast.
Not expecting to find Diggs within the Abbey, Buckler had organised a party of Redwallers to search the building. He was in the upper dormitories when he accidentally bumped into Clarinna. She was slipping out of the Infirmary with a bundle on her back. The young hare halted her progress.
“Good day t’ye, marm. Forgive me, but I didn’t get time to thank you for savin’ my life. It was a brave thing you did, slaying Zwilt.”
She curtsied, trying to get past him. “I only did what I saw as my duty. You were the one that acted bravely. Now would you stand aside, please?”
Buckler stayed where he was, indicating the bundle. “Where are you going in such a hurry, and what’s in there?”
He saw her jaw tighten. “I’m going to get my babes, Calla and Urfa. I know they’re safe, but they’ve been gone for so long. They need me—please, let me go!”
Taking the bundle, he set it down. “But you haven’t the faintest idea of where to go. You’ll be lost before you get far. Listen, I’ve got to find Diggs, he’s missing. But if I haven’t found him by tonight, then tomorrow noon I’ll take you to get the babes myself. Ambrevina will come with us. She knows exactly where she and Diggs left them. That’s on my oath as a Long Patrol Warrior. Agreed?”
Clarinna nodded. “Agreed. Come on, I’ll help you to search for Diggs.”
Late afternoon shadows were lengthening when the Abbess went to the orchard. Friar Soogum was there, supervising the feast preparations.
“Mother Abbess, d’you think this’ll do?”
Marjoram clapped her paws in delight. “Oh, Friar, it’s perfect. What a feast this will be!”
The table linen was spread upon the orchard grass, with pretty blossom arrangements decking the fruit trees. Lanterns hung, ready to be lit by evening. Casks of strawberry fizz, October Ale, dandelion and burdock cordial and jugs of mint tea or pennycloud brew were placed in the tree shade. Scones, tarts, pies and pasties were there in abundance, alongside trifles, broths, oven-baked breads and delicate almond wafers. The entire effect was magical or, to quote the Abbess, “the setting for an evening’s delicious enchantment!” And it really was just that.
Glowing from their day’s chores and tasks, everybeast trooped into the orchard. Early evening twilight was enhanced by lighted lanterns of pink, gold, blue and green, circled by fluttering moths of varied hue. Over excited Dibbuns were issued with beakers of strawberry fizz and warned to keep a modicum of silence whilst the Abbess said grace.
Decked out in her best pale-fawn habit, belted with a spotless white cord and sporting a small circlet of woodland flowers round her brow, Marjoram recited the special words, penned earlier that day by her friend Granvy.“We meet in happiness this day,
to celebrate our victory,
not to boast of fighting ways,
but just the joy of living free.
Oh, may that feeling never cease,
for you, my true and honest friends,
enjoy this feast, in love and peace,
and hope our freedom never ends!”
A tiny squirrelbabe held up his beaker. “I drink to dat!”
Laughter echoed round the orchard as they fell to in earnest. Skipper blew on a bowl of his favourite freshwater shrimp’n’hotroot soup, winking at Buckler. “D’ye think all this scoff might tempt ole Diggs out from wherever he’s stowed hisself?”
The young hare picked up a slice of greengage tart. “Well, if he doesn’t, I’ll wager he’s at least three leagues away, the great lard barrel!”
Clarinna passed a long cheese’n’hazelnut roll to Ambrevina. “It was kind of you to say you’d accompany Buckler and me tomorrow. Thank you so much!”
The badgermaid accepted the offering with a nod. “I’ve seen your babes, marm, Calla and Urfa. Two charming little creatures. I can see why you wish dearly to be reunited with them. My pleasure!”
Baby Dubdub sprayed crumbs about as he spoke through a mouthful of honeyed scone. “My pleasure! My pleasure!”
Oakheart beamed over the rim of his October Ale tankard. “The babe’s learnin’, Dymphnia. Did y’hear that? A real actor in the makin’, a true Witherspyk!”
His wife brushed crumbs from her apron, then wiped Dubdub’s face with a corner of it. “Indeed, Oakie. I just wish he wouldn’t practice his lines at mealtimes.”
Jango speared a hunk of cheese with his blade. “I’ll come along with ye on the morrow, Buck, just for a walk, chance to stretch me paws, eh!”
Flib was over her war shock now. She winked at Jango. “An’ I’ll toddle along with ya, Pa, t’make sure ye don’t get into any trouble!”
Axtel had joined the molecrew in seeing off a huge cauldron of the mole’s speciality, deeper’n’ever’turnip’ n’tater’n’beetroot pie. He held up a piece in his paw. “Oi’ll goo with ee, zurr’n’marms. Thurr may bee’s vurmints a-lurkin’ in ee wuddlands. Oi’ll give ’em ole billyoh!”
Marjoram put on a face of mock despair, managing a wail. “If any other beast volunteers to go, there’ll only be me left behind here!”
Friar Soogum poured a tiny crystal goblet of elderberry wine. “Here, marm, drink this—you’ll feel better. Don’t fret, marm. I’ll stay here with ye. I’ll make a special liddle supper, just for me’n’you. We’ll sit up in the belltower an’ share it. Oh, an’ more o’ this fine wine, eh!”
Trajidia Witherspyk fluttered her eyelashes at the Friar. “I never said I was deserting this beautiful Abbey. Will you find room for a young un like me at your table, oh, kind and handsome Friar, sir?”
All those who heard Soogum mention the special supper suddenly expressed a fervent desire to remain at Redwall.
“Er, me, too, please, could I come?”
“Hurr, an’ oi h’also. Oi carn’t walk too furr wi’ moi paws!”
“An’ can I bring a few of the Dibbuns? They’d enjoy a treat, bless their liddle paws!”
‘I’d like t’come, too, but only t’keep an eye on the babes!”
Marjoram waved her paws, miming alarm. “Stop, stop. We’ll never get you all into one belltower!”
In the softly lit orchard, the sound of woodlanders laughing drifted up to the starry night sky which had now cloaked Mossflower.
It was high noon of the following day. The sun hung like a burnished gold medallion in the cloudless sky. Abbess Marjoram was on the path outside the newly cleared west gate. Other Redwallers were with her to wish a hearty goodbye to the travelling party. Friar Soogum and his kitchen helpers fussed around the group, passing out haversacks of food and drink.
The good Friar’s constant worry in life was that anybeast would not have enough to eat. He pressed a further package upon an already overloaded Clarinna. “Just some dainties, candied chestnuts an’ crystallised fruits, for your little uns, marm. Oh, an’ I slipped i
n two small flasks of best pear cider—babes always like that.”
The Abbess was forced to intercede on behalf of those leaving the Abbey. “Friar, you’ve provisioned them handsomely, but that’s quite enough now. Any more and they won’t be able to move. Buckler, are you ready to go?”
Adjusting the shoulder straps of a huge haversack, the young hare managed a quick salute. “Ready, marm! Ambry, Axtel, Jango, let’s march!”
With Buckler and Clarinna following Ambrevina, and an escort of twenty Guosim backed up by Jango, Axtel and Flib, the column moved out, going south down the path. The remaining Redwallers cheered them on their journey.
Skipper shouted out, “Come on, Buck, mate, get ’em goin’ with one o’ yore Long Patrol marchin’ songs!”
Buckler promptly obliged with an old parade-ground air, which could be speeded up or slowed down to accommodate the marchers. They soon picked up the rhythm, as it was not a difficult song.“Y’place yore left footpaw
in front o’ yore right footpaw,
then y’do it over ’n over’n over again!
Remember, left right, left right,
chin up high an’ eyes bright,
don’t fret about the sun, the wind or rain.
Keep those ranks good an’ straight,
don’t tread on yore matey’s paws,
or he might just turn around,
kick yore tail an’ tread on yores!
So place yore left footpaw,
in front o’ yore right footpaw,
then do it over’n over’n over again!
Remember, left right, left right,
never argue, never fight,
keep goin’ ’til you think you’ve gone insane!”
Axtel wound a spotted kerchief around his mouth.
“H’it bee’s ruther dusty marchin’ at ee back!”
Once they were out of sight from the Abbey, Ambrevina turned off into the woodland. Buckler shepherded them across the ditch, patting backs and mouthing words of encouragement.
“Well done, mates, a nice little walk so far, eh?”
Unused to his parade-ground pace, they were all quite breathless. Flib was heard to mutter, “Huh, a nice liddle walk fer you, y’great lankypaws!”
Buckler glared at the shrewmaid. “What was that, miss?”
Axtel, who had grown rather fond of Flib, placed a heavy digging claw on her shoulder. “She’m just sayin’, zurr, that moi ole h’injured paw b’aint wurkin’ vury gudd.”
Buckler’s attitude changed instantly. “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that, friend. Right, we’ll rest an’ take a spot o’ lunch in the woodlands. Pass the word along, Jango.”
It was pleasant, being off the dusty open path on such a hot summer’s day. The wood of Mossflower provided lots of cool, green shade. Buckler chose a spot beneath an old crack willow on a tiny streambank. Everybeast sat with their footpaws in the muddy shallows as Clarinna distributed food.
Buckler winked at Jango as they watched their crew. “Just look at ’em. You’d think they’d been on a season-long slog. Have you ever seen anythin’ like it?”
The Guosim Log a Log plumped down on the bank, squidging his footpaws into the mud. “Whaaaaaw! That’s better. Pass me that ale flagon, Sniffy.” He held out a paw, looking around. “Sniffy? Where’s that beast got to—who’s seen ole Sniffy?”
Ambrevina sighted the Tracker coming through some bushes.
Jango found the ale and took a swig. “Where’ve ye been, Sniff? Siddown an’ git some lunch.”
The Guosim Tracker beckoned to the east. “Just scoutin’ o’er thataway, Chief. Beggin’ yore pardon for disturbin’ yore lunch, but there’s somebeasts there.”
Buckler was at his side, blade drawn. “Whatbeasts? Where?”
Sniffy went into his customary crouch, reentering the bushes. “Foller me an’ I’ll show ye.”
Buckler went after the Tracker, with Jango, Flib and Ambrevina in his wake. Sniffy could mutter out of the side of his mouth quite well. He kept up a running commentary as Buckler caught up to his side.
“Don’t know wot t’make of it, Chief. There I was, a-nosin’ through the shrubbery, when I ’ears ’em. Voices, sounded like they was arguin’, then they started laughin’. I never saw ’em, though, sounded like too many beasts fer me t’be spotted by. So back I comes to report to ye. Hah, afore I was outta earshot, I ’eard ’em singin’. Stop! ’Earken, mates, there they go agin! Can ye ’ear them, Chief?”
They halted suddenly. Jango and Ambrevina ran into their backs. The Guosim Log a Log almost got Sniffy in the rear with his drawn rapier. He whispered, “Aye aye, wot’s the holdup?”
Buckler stifled him with a paw. “Listen!”
Somebeast was singing lustily, with shrill voices joining in discordantly.“She’s the sergeant major ’s daughter,
Miss Floosabia Grugsby Lee,
And anybeast who woos her gets
a medal for bravery.
Her nose is blue, her eyes are red,
she’s got a laugh that’d wake the dead,
an’ I’m the one she’s chose to wed.
Floosabia Grugsby Lee, please stay away from me!
Go to your left two three,
now to the right two three,
’tis forward on the double,
an’ get me out of trouble,
so I can run away to sea.
Far far away from . . .
... Floosabia Grugsby Lee!”
Another voice complained to the singer, “Sure will ye give yore ould gob a rest. That’s no song t’be singin’ in front o’ liddle uns!”
The singer gave a brusque reply. “One more peep out o’ you, marm, an’ you’ll find your insolent self on a fizzer so fast your paws won’t touch the bloomin’ floor, wot wot!”
The motherly figure of Mumzy the water vole emerged from the shrubbery, giving as good as she got. “Arrah, go an’ fizz yore tail, an’ see if’n I care a jot!”
She was leading a long double file of young ones. They were bumbling along holding on to a rope, which kept them in an orderly line. The harebabes, Calla and Urfa, were walking quite well now, holding paws with Jiddle and Jinty Witherspyk. Midda and Tura brought up the rear. Mousebabe Diggla was strutting behind Diggs, who was patrolling the line. Diggla was first to spot Ambrevina standing in the bushes. He raced to her, squeaking, “Ambee! Ambeeeeeeee! It be me, Diggla!”
The badgermaid swept him up with one huge paw. “So it is! Diggla, my little friend, how are you?”
Diggs raised a hazel twig, which he was using as a swagger stick. “Column! Haaa . . . alt! Stand easy an’ be still now!” Marching briskly over to Buckler, he prodded him with the stick. “Hmm, I remember you, sah. Buckley, isn’t it? Well, now, laddie buck, what are ye doin’ in this neck o’ the woods, eh, wot wot?”
Aware of Diggs’s unfortunate identity crisis, Buckler came to attention, throwing up a smart salute. “Leadin’ a patrol to escort you all back to Redwall Abbey, Colonel Crockley Sputherington, sah!”
Diggs looked thinner and paler than his former self. His head was still swathed in bandages, and his left ear was missing. Tapping his open paw with the cane, he nodded several times.
“Rather tardy of ye, Bucklow, but better late than never, eh? Not flippin’ many for an escort. Got any more with ye?”
They trooped into the camp on the muddy streambank, whereupon, catching sight of her babes, Clarinna swept both Calla and Urfa off their paws. Kissing and hugging them, she wept and laughed wildly.
Midda, who was being embraced by Jango and Flib, smiled at the sight of the harewife being reunited with her babes. “Well, ain’t that a sight for sore eyes!”
Jango patted her back. “No more than you are, darlin’!”
With the babes still clinging to her, Clarinna launched herself upon Diggs, knocking him flat. “Oh, my wonderful friend, you kept your promise and restored these two sweet babes to their mother ’s paws! How can I ever thank you, gallant Subaltern Diggs?”
Her benefactor was horrified. “Restrain your blinkin’ self, marm. Remove y’self an’ these two little blighters from me before I’m drowned in slobberin’ kisses. Unpaw me, I say!”
Extricating himself, Diggs stood up, brushing off his tunic. “Who in the name o’ scuts’n’scallywags is this creature Diggs? Mistaken identity, I fear, marm. I’m Colonel Crockley Sputherington, I’ll have ye know!”
Not wishing to upset his friend, Buckler played along. “Attention, everybeast. Allow me to introduce this brave officer. His name is Colonel Crockley Sputherington, an’ I hope you’ll all address him as such. Understood?”
The “colonel” bowed formally. “My thanks t’ye, Buckle-paw! Right, form up in order now. On my command, back to Redwall Abbey, quick march!”
Jango indicated the open food haversacks. “Ain’t ye goin’ to take a bite o’ vittles afore ye go?”
Diggs walked a circle around the Log a Log, sizing him up. “An’ who in the name o’ blue blinkin’ blazes are you, sah?”
Jango returned his stare. “I’m Jango Bigboat, Chieftain an’ Log a Log o’ the Guosim!”
Diggs viewed this statement with no evident surprise. “A shrew, eh? I thought so.” He turned to Buckler, murmuring confidentially, “Greedy little blighters, shrews. Get him back into line, Buckleton. We ain’t wastin’ time on scoff, wot!”
Without further ado, Diggs swaggered off at the head of the column. Jango scratched his beard in astonishment.
“Well, don’t that sink the logboat? Ole greedy lardbucket Diggs refusin’ vittles—I don’t believe it!”
Mumzy sorted out some candied chestnuts to give the little ones on their march. “Ah, sure, pay no heed t’the beast friend. He’s as mad as an ould boiled frog, but he means well.”
The line of little ones holding on to the rope was still filing past Buckler, which caused him to remark, “There’s about twoscore an’ five young uns here, Mumzy. Where did they all come from?”
The water vole filled her apron pockets with tit bits. “Some found their way to my cave, an’ the rest we found wanderin’ round the woodlands. Orphans, their parents slaughtered by the Sable Quean’s lot. I been gatherin’ ’em in whenever I could. They were cryin’ their eyes out, hungry an’ lost. Sure, I couldn’t leave ’em to fend for themselves, now, could I, sir?”
The Sable Quean Page 37