Mariel Of Redwall

by Brian Jacques

  Besides being sent to bed early for cheeking some venerable Abbey dwellers, the three miscreants were now being instructed in sewing by Brother Hubert, so that they could repair their own ripped dothing. Hubert had also hinted darkly that they would soon be attending gatehouse school and Abbey history study.

  This news was the final clincher, being met with awful scowls and rebellious mutterings, and culminating in the terrible trio swearing a deathly oath underneath a dormitory bed, where they were hiding from their latest misdeeds. They were leaving the Abbey the very next morning to seek their fortunes far afield, or as Grubb succinctly put it, ‘Sumplace where gurt beasties doant keep scrubben an’ barthen us’ns!’

  Dawn came soft and misty with warm sunlight, turning the low-lying shrouds of mist from white to pale yellow. The three Dibbuns let themselves out by the north wallgate and trundled up that path, rustling the carpet of brown leaves brought down by autumnal night winds. Each of them had a kerchief bulging with food swinging from a stick across his shoulder, and their mood was decidedly carefree as they strode out with a will.

  ‘Wait’ll ol’ Ma Mell’s, finds us’ns are gone. I bet she shakes ’er head an’ says oh dearie me a lot then, eh?’

  ‘Heeheehee, she won’t ’ave nobeast to chuck inna tub an’ scrub no more.’

  ‘Hurr, oi ‘spect she’ll scrub Gab’l an’ Froir an’ the Habbit. Serve ’em roight!’

  ‘An’ we’ll be far, far ‘way an’ all mucky f’rever. Hahahaha!’

  ‘An we won’t go t’ bed no more an’ learn hist’ry off Bruvver Hoobit.’

  ‘Burr aye, an’ woant they all be a-cryen fer us. Boohoohoo, ’ee’ll say, whurr be all they luvverly Dibbuns a-gone?’

  ‘Aaahhhh, will they? Never mind, we’ll come back when us’ns are big ’uns, eh?’

  ‘Oh aye, an’ we’ll spank ’em all an baff’em an scoff everythin’!’

  ‘Hurrhurr, that’ll teach ’em a lessing!’

  Late breakfast turned into early lunch as they sat at the side of the path, telling each other what tyrants they would be when they returned to the Abbey fully grown. Suddenly Runn squeaked with fright. The three Dibbuns sat petrified at the sight of a giant armoured badger who had strolled up out of the mists.

  With a strange light in his dark eyes, he swung his massive sword high and placed it into the carrier straps on his back. The badger knelt down, bringing his wide-striped head dose to their terrifed faces. His voice was growling, deep, but gentle as he could make it.

  ‘Well well, what have we here, three marauders lying in wait for poor honest travellers?’

  ‘U-u-us’ns be oanly Dibbuns, zurr.’

  ‘Dibbuns, eh? A likely story. You look more like bloodthirsty rogues to me. All right then, supposing you are Dibbuns, where are you from?’

  Bagg found his tongue. ‘Please sir, Redwall Habbey, sir!’

  Rawnblade lifted them carefully in his hefty battle-scarred paws. ‘Redwall Habbey – I think I may know that place. You’d better come with me. I’ll soon find out if you’re telling me the truth.’

  The badger made his way through the hordes of Trag warriors eating breakfast at the side of the path. He halted by a wide flat wooden cart with a great bell upon it. The three Dibbuns sat gazing at their reflections in the burnished metal surface of the bell as they perched upon Rawnblade’s paws, their legs swinging over the big blunt claws. Lord Rawnblade lowered them towards Dandin and Durry, winking at the two friends as he did.

  ‘I’ve just captured these three searat Captains. They were waiting down the way apiece, probably to ambush us and steal our bell.’

  Dandin and Durry played along with the badger.

  ‘It’s as well you did. They look like born killers to me.’

  ‘Aye, these searats are all the same, y’know.’

  Grubb tried reasoning with his captors. ‘Oh gurraway, oi’m a moler an’ they be two hotterfolk. You’m be Dan’in an’ maister Quill, oi knows ’ee!’

  Rawnblade burst out laughing. ‘Hohoho! Well said! We’ll take you back to Redwall with us.’

  Bagg held a paw to his snout, confidentially whispering to Rawnblade, ‘I wouldn’t if I was you. Ma Mell’s will chuck you all inna tub an’ scrub you sumfink awful!’

  The orchard workers had halted for a mid-morning break and jugs of cider and slices of plumcake were passed round.

  Mother Mellus searched around the berry bushes worriedly. ‘Anybeast here seen three Dibbuns, Bagg, Runn and Grubb?’

  Saxtus stood up helpfully. ‘Do you want me to go and look for them?’

  The badger plumped down wearily next to Simeon and accepted a beaker of new cider. ‘I’d be most grateful if you did, Saxtus. I’ve run my aching old bones ragged searching for those three rips.’

  As the young mouse trotted off on a tour of the Abbey grounds Mellus refilled Simeon’s beaker.

  ‘What a fine young creature our Saxtus is. I remember he wasn’t any great trouble as a Dibbun, always a fairly serious and obedient little thing. Not like some I could name.’

  The blind herbalist smiled. ‘You’re a proper old fraud, Mellus. You wouldn’t know what to do with yourself if all our Dibbuns were quiet, serious and obedient. It makes the seasons happier having a few little pickles around.’

  Having searched in the most likely hiding places, Saxtus mounted the wallsteps and scoured the ramparts. Starting at the south wall, he worked his way along to the east battlements, covering every recess and niche, each moment expecting to come upon the three little ones hiding in some favourite corner. He had hidden up here many a time with Dandin and Durry when they were small; all the best secret hide-outs were known to him.

  Saxtus could feel anxiety beginning to gnaw at him. He had searched every possible place and still there was no sign of the missing trio. He leaned his back against the northwest walltop corner, looking down into the Abbey grounds, mentally ticking off each place he had covered. The three little ones were definitely missing, but there was no need to upset Mother Mellus yet – they might still be somewhere in the vicinity. Saxtus turned to look up the path. For a moment he could scarcely believe his eyes, he felt his whole body begin to shake and tremble with excitement. Paws twitching and teeth chattering, he blinked and rubbed his eyes to reassure himself he was not witnessing a mirage. He was not! He stood for some time, exerting all his willpower to gain control of himself.

  Refreshment time was over in the orchard. Picking up their baskets, the harvesters were about to go back to work. Saxtus’s voice rang out level and loud from the ramparts.

  ‘Father Abbot, Mother Mellus, bring everybody with you. Come up here and look at this!’

  Mellus and the Abbot, with Simeon between them, rounded the corner of the Abbey building, a crowd of Redwallers following them.

  ‘Saxtus. Hi, Saxtus, what is it?’

  ‘Have you found the Dibbuns, Saxtus?’

  The young mouse turned and called back to the swelling band of Redwallers, ‘Come up here, this is very important, I think you should all see this!’

  Now every creature in the Abbey was striding across the lawns, from the orchards, kitchens, Great hall, Cavern Hole, dormitories and gatehouse, overcome with curiosity.

  ‘I hope it ain’t more searats, marm!’

  ‘In the name of all fur, what is it?’

  ‘Hoi, Saxtus, what’s all this about?’

  But Saxtus had turned his back on them and was staring out at the path from the north, ignoring their shouts.

  Mellus quickened her pace. ‘Ooh, he was always very aggravating as a Dibbun was that one!’

  Every creature in the Abbey was now ranged along the wall staring dumbfounded at the sight before them. It was Gabriel Quill who broke the silence. Scrambling up on to a battlement, he waved his paws wildly as he shouted, ‘They’ve come back! Oh, Durry me heart, it’s me, yer ol’ nuncle Gabriel!’

  The hedgehog’s call seemed to trigger everything. A mighty roaring cheer rose from the walltops,
caps and aprons were flung in the air as the Redwallers danced up and down, waving and cheering at the top of their lungs, stamping their paws and howling pure joy to the skies.

  ‘They’re back! Oh look, they’re back! Hooraaaaaay!!!’

  On the path the horde of Trag warriors with the great bell in their midst ground to a halt at Rawnblade’s signal.

  Mariel stood atop the bell. She loosed her Gullwhacker and began swinging it in circles above her head.

  Tarquin winked at her. ‘Go on, old gel, let ’em know you jolly well did it!’

  The mousemaid swung the heavily knotted roped down with both paws.

  Boooooommmmmm!

  The deep melodious sound echoed out across the brown and russet woodlands in the fine autumn morn.

  ‘Eulaliaaaaa! Trag! Trag! Trag! Redwaaaaalll!’

  The answer to Redwall’s cheers rent the air as the warriors roared out their battlecry. Sitting on top of Lord Rawnblade’s war helmet, Grubb joined paws with Bagg and Runn, who were perched on the badger’s shoulders. Between them they yelled as loudly as any battle-hardened soldier.

  Abbot Bernard stood in front of the open gateway, paws tucked into wide habit sleeves. His voice quivered noticeably as he addressed the four travellers who stood with Lord Rawnblade at the head of the army.

  ‘You have come a very long way to be at Redwall Abbey. . . . Welcome home!’

  42

  EXTRACT FROM THE writings of Abbot Saxtus:

  The seasons turn slowly with the earth, Redwall stones grow aged and mellow, and I thank fortune that we live peacefully within our Abbey. The old ones are still with us, I am happy to say: Joseph, Simeon, Hubert and old Abbot Bernard. I sat with them this afternoon, on the rickety remains of the wooden bellcart in the orchard. We talked of bygone times as we lounged about in the warmth of this long summer. Bagg, Runn and Grubb brought us dandelion and burdock cordial to drink. You would not believe what big, well-mannered otters the twins are, and Grubb, always ready with a joke and a smile, he never changes, I know because he put otter hotroot in my beaker. Bernard and his friends were recalling the Feast of the Bell Raising. What a day! Mariel’s father was so proud when we named the bell after him, the Joseph Bell, though he would not sit at the head of the table – no, Joseph insisted on sitting with Tarquin and his wife Rosie. Ah, that was a feast my stomach still remembers. Cellarmaster Durry Quill and his assistant Old Gabriel produced the finest October ale I ever drank, Friar Cockleburr made a bell-shaped fruitcake as big as the Joseph Bell itself, Friar Alder and his Trag trainees did us proud too – there were more trifles, tarts, puddings, salads, cheeses and breads than you could shake a twig at. Oak Tom and his wife Treerose say that the feast might have lasted a whole season had it not been for Flagg the otter, Rosie and Tarquin and Mellus and Rawnblade. My word, you should have seen those creatures eat, you would have thought they were facing a seven-season famine!

  Well, the bell was finally raised, though a lot more things happened during the three days of that feast, I can tell you. Lord Rawnblade explained the badger symbols around the top of the bell to us all. Would you believe it, they told of the coming of the bell to Redwall, even predicting its name, Joseph. The badger rulers of Salamandastron are truly mysterious beasts. Someday I may take a trip there to study the mountain and its caves. Rawnblade gave permission for Rosie and Tarquin to range the lands freely, and they have formed an organization called the Fur and Foot Fighting Patrol. Last I heard they had twelve members, all their own young ones. Rufe Brush did a strange thing on the third morning of the feast, he took the sword of Martin the Warrior, strapped it to his back and climbed to the roof of the Abbey. Yes, right up to the very top of Redwall – what a climb! Rufe placed the sword on the arm of the weathervane and tied it there; what a curious thing to do. Brother Simeon told me that Rufe had been spending a lot of time staring at our grand tapestry of Martin, so it occurs to me that our warrior may have visited Rufe in his dreams. Rufe Brush is now our bellringer, still as strong and silent as ever. I am very dose to Rufe. He is a true friend to me, always ready to step in and settle disputes, though they are few and far between at Redwall. I think Grubb will become the new Foremole. The old fellow spends his days drinking, eating and playing with the Dibbuns; he is a great favourite among the little ones. I miss Dandin and Mariel very much, and sometimes I dream of them. They went off, you know. The peaceful Abbey life was not for them, they said. One morning we awoke to find they had gone south in search of adventures. Joseph merely smiled and said that they would return someday, but Mother Mellus moped about for half a season; she loved that pair very much. Sometimes I wish that I had not been born with a sense of duty and my serious nature. I would have liked to travel with them, but it was not to be. When Bernard stepped down, everybeast immediately called for me to take on the robe of Father Abbot. What could I do? Wherever my friends Mariel and Dandin are, my heart is with them. May the way be fair before them and good fortune attend them both.

  I am sitting on the belltower steps as I write. It is cool and shady in here, quiet too. The roof and all of the woodwork, stairs and doors and beams are made from the timbers of four ships that were dismantled by the side of the ford which crosses the path to the north. Some of the wood was used to build a bridge over the ford, to protect travellers from the pike that swim in the waters there. I have only to look up and I can see the great Joseph Bell overhead. It is truly the pride of our Abbey, a thing of great beauty. Ah well, Rawnblade rules Salamandastron and I must rule here. I love my Redwall Abbey, it is a place of peace and plenty. Soon my friend Rufe will come to ring the bell for suppertime. There will be lots of good things to eat and drink in Cavern Hole, and I will sit in my great chair, surrounded by all of my dear companions, Dibbuns playing beneath the table, Mellus, Sage and Serena, old as they are, still shooing the little ones to bath and bed, and me, discussing with the ancient Simeon what I can sense about the earth, the seasons and the feelings of other creatures. He says I am becoming quite good at it. Old Abbot Bernard will just chuckle into his elderberry wine and recall that Simeon used to say that about him. So I hope you will forgive me, my friends. I must go now and attend to my duties as Father Abbot.

  There, I’ve done it again! Bumped my head on that great knotty thing hanging at the end of the bellrope. I’m always doing that, I must learn to duck my head. Though I think I do it purposely, because that piece of rope reminds me of a little mousemaid named Storm who turned up at our Abbey one summer. Have you guessed what the rope is? Then you must have been taking lessons from Simeon. It is the weapon called Gullwhacker. Before Mariel and Dandin went, they tied it to the end of the bellrope as a reminder to other creatures for all the seasons to come that this was how they brought the great Joseph Bell home to Redwall.

  About the Author

  Before he started writing books for children, Brian Jacques’ life was as full of adventure as the stories he creates. At the age of fifteen he went to sea and travelled the world, before returning to his home town of Liverpool, where he still lives today. He has worked as a stand-up comedian and playwright and now hosts his own programme, Jakestown, on BBC Radio Merseyside. For twenty years, his bestselling Redwall books have captured readers all over the world and won universal praise.

  For more information about Brian Jacques and his work please visit his website www.redwall.org

  THE TALES OF REDWALL

  Lord Brocktree

  Martin the Warrior

  Mossflower

  The Legend of Luke

  Outcast of Redwall

  Mariel of Redwall

  The Bellmaker

  Salamandastron

  Redwall

  Mattimeo

  The Pearls of Lutra

  The Long Patrol

  Marlfox

  The Taggerung

  Triss

  Loamhedge

  Rakkety Tam

  High Rhulain

  Click onto the Redwall website and find out more about your
favourite characters from the legendary world of Redwall, and their creator, Brian Jacques!

  www.redwall.org

  MARIEL OF REDWALL

  AN RHCP DIGITAL EBOOK 978 1 448 15705 1

  Published in Great Britain by RHCP,

  an imprint of Random House Children’s Publishers

  A Random House Group Company

  This ebook edition published 2012

  Copyright © Brian Jacques, 1991

  Illustrations copyright © Gary Chalk, 1991

  First Published in Great Britain

  Red Fox 9781862302426 1991

  The right of Brian Jacques and Gary Chalk to be identified as the author and illustrator of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorized distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.