The New Arrivals.

[cairn destop]

Author Note:   This is a stand-alone story.  You need not have read any of the other stories in the Vermin Badger Series to follow the action in this one.  For those who have read any of these stories, some of the characters will be familiar.  To those new to this, all characters will be introduced as they appear.  Please post comments in the appropriate thread or via PM and I will reply.  Without further ado, let the story begin.

Summary Journal

Robertasin had just changed into her nightgown when an insistent pounding started at the door to her private residence.  She voiced her indignation at the interruption, but kept it low enough that her unwanted guest could not hear her.  As Mother Abbot, Robertasin prized her privacy since her duties allowed her so little.  She placed her diary on the low table, and walked to her door just as the other beast knocked a second time. 

When she opened the door, an irate looking woodchuck glared down at her.  Without so much as an invitation, the old fellow barged into her quarters.  He shuffled over to the nearest chair and plopped down, sinking deep within the cushions.  The woodchuck turned his white-furred muzzle towards the Mother Abbot who still stood by the door.

"Mister Acrib, is this the respect I get from our Chief Historian and Recorder?  Your fur might be turning white with age, but you have the audacity of a wayward dibbun."

"You should know.  A more wayward dibbun would be hard to find."

The Mother Abbot allowed the door to remain open when she approached her uninvited guest.  She stood before the old beast reclining within her easy chair, scowling at him.  If not for the thick carpet, her bare foot tapping on the floor would have drowned out her words.

"I know this month's Summary Report is due tomorrow.  It will be done on time and without your constant harassment."

The light sound of laughter came to her ears.  "That would be a first, Mother Abbot.  This is your eighth entry to that journal.  In each of the previous seven months, I have had to hound you day and night before you did what duty required."

She walked to her chair, as if he had somehow disappeared in the time it took her to sit.  Robertasin's paw snagged her feathered pen, which rested on a low table between her and her guest.  The Mother Abbot dipped the quill into the inkbottle, and wrote.  When she lowered her pen, the Mother Abbot deemed the Chief Historian and Recorder worthy of her attention.  She motioned the woodchuck to her side. 

"I was just about to finish with my Daily Diary before tackling the Monthly Summary.  Would you like to read what I just wrote as part of today's official happenings?"

The old woodchuck grunted as he pushed himself out of his chair.  He ambled over while he adjusted his glasses.  Leaning down, he read aloud the passage just written. 

"Today I threw a cantankerous old coot out of my quarters." 

He no sooner finished reading that line than the Mother Abbot bounded out of her chair and grabbed the fellow by his lapels.  A moment later, the old woodchuck found himself on the wrong side of a locked door.  Robertasin giggled as she slid the bolt home, which would prevent anyone else from entering her quarters unannounced.

With the diary entry done, the Mother Abbot doused the lights and retired to her bedroom.  She paused at the fireplace long enough to pour herself a cup of tea.  Robertasin savored the cinnamon smell that came from this special blend while sipping the hot brew.  Moving across the room, she sat at her desk.  The Summary Journal remained open to a blank page.

Robertasin leaned back and gazed at the ceiling.  She continued sipping her tea, alternating her vacant stare between the whitewashed ceiling and the blank page.  The Mother Abbot put her cup on the floor and picked up another quill.  Robertasin's paws flew across the page for several moments before she placed the writing instrument back where it belonged.  She reached down, drained her tepid cup, and smacked her lips together in satisfaction.  Robertasin read her words.

* * * * *

Have I explained how much I hate writing?  Bad enough the paperwork required for keeping this place functioning.  Such documentation I can tolerate.  However, these blasted journals are overwhelming me.  My first responsibility is the diary I must keep, which is a record of my thoughts and observations for every day I rule Redwall Abbey.  Sometimes it takes but a dozen words and on other days, a dozen pages will not satisfy.

Then there is the Monthly Summary Report.  This recaps the important events that occurred between the last new moon and this one.  Our Chief Historian and Recorder will expect my entry by tomorrow morning and that woodchuck has a tongue sharper than any hedgehog's spike.  So I had better write fast since I have yet to start. 

In the past seven months, my report never exceeded one page in length.  I'm reluctant to write more when there is nothing worth reporting.  I dread composing the numerous entries I must make if I rule over this place for as many years as my two predecessors.  Yet, if I want the privileges accorded the Mother Abbot, then I must accept the responsibilities duty imposes.

Did I tell you how much I hate writing?  In the past, I racked my brain deciding what to highlight.  Life at Redwall Abbey has been dull for far too many years.  The most exciting thing to happen since I became the Mother Abbot has been a root cellar flooding, and a lightning strike that destroyed several apple trees.  Such things will not interest future historians.  Even I didn't care a few days after they happen.

This month, I am certain what event I intend to highlight.  Thanks to several participants who have loaned me their journals, my report shall provide a detailed account of a special eight-day period.  At the time it happened, it seemed monumental.  Today, I doubt anyone will remember it that way.

My desk has quills in abundance.  A sharpened knife will maintain a fine point.  I will produce a legible script instead of the mess you see in my other writings.  There is ink and paper sufficient for a novel.  The lamp has a full tank of oil and no beast will disturb me this night.  My thoughts are organized and I am ready to proceed.

[cairn destop]

Chapter Two
Two Days Traveling

A bird screeched and the kit squirrel's eyes opened.  His heart raced at the unexpected noise that disturbed his slumber.  His eyes tried penetrating the perpetual darkness without success.  No other sound came to his questing ears.  He laid his head down and closed his eyes.

Twigs snapped and a beast grunted.  He raised his head from the moldy debris he used as his bed.  His ears listened to the unknown intruder while it moved outside his hiding place.  He held his breath for a moment, wondering if the beast knew where he slept.  He focused on the grayish curtain that waived outside, its color reminding him of his mother's fur.  He burrowed deeper within the debris until only his ears remained exposed.  After a short pause, he fell asleep.

Some songbird greeted the dawn, and another replied.  Their musical notes awakened him.  He raised his head and examined his wooden den.  As he stood, he rested his back against the wall.  The morning had changed the gray curtain he saw last night into a nearby tree bedecked in its autumn coat of gold.  Sunlight now crossed the threshold, illuminating his sleeping chamber.  Nothing else hid within the place.

Brushing whatever leafy loam clung to his fur, he approached the opening.  He leaned outside the bore and gazed upward.  A clear sky promised a sunny day.  He did not have to stoop when he stood before the opening since it was higher than he was tall.  Fear had him step back.  He hesitated, and then he moved to the very edge of the bore.

His eyes scanned the surrounding forest while his fingers groomed his facial fur.  He removed whatever debris clung to his garment.  When he had cleaned himself as much as he could, he searched the surrounding forest.  His ears detected no sound other than the birds that woke him.  A quick sniff revealed nothing.

"I'm still here, Mother," he shouted. 

No sooner had he uttered those words than he reached up and grabbed his muzzle.   His eyes darted from side to side while his ears twitched.  He received no response. 

"She's not coming, not after what happened yesterday," he said.

He backed out of the tree bore, his clawed feet seeking purchase in the rough bark.  He started his descent.  Whenever his one foot moved, another half dozen links to a chain slid out of the hole.  Halfway down, the chain accelerated until the last link tumbled out of his sleeping chamber.  He found himself yanked off the tree by its weight.

After his undignified tumble, he brought the great bush that was his tail to the front and picked out whatever dirt had gotten on it.  For the first time, he gave vent to his frustrations, "Stupid chain."  He gave the piled links a mighty kick, which only resulted in him stubbing his toe.  He hopped about on one foot while repeating his two-word mantra.

He gazed up at the hole where his mother hid him, knowing he could never get back.  Not with this chain attached to his leg.  Once again, his paws felt along the smooth metal cuff and the first few links.  Like mother, he could find no means of removing the hobble.  He dragged his foot forward until he stood next to a narrow dirt trail.

"Mother said when dawn's light reaches within the tree, return to this path.  Face the sun and turn to the side with the chain.  Follow the trail until the dirt path becomes one of stone and go wherever it leads."  He paused.  "Must do what mother said or she will beat me with a stick."

Again, he spoke mother's final words.  He wanted the sound of his voice to act as a siren's call and was willing to suffer her anger.  He repeated her command one more time in his loudest voice.  The quiet forest only confirmed his greatest fear.  He lingered by the path as he inspected his surroundings.  He trudged down the dirt trail with a leaden heart.

He wanted to move faster, but the chain hampered him.  Mother measured it back on the ship.  It stretched three times his height in length and weighed half as much as he did.  Try as he might, he could not ignore it.  Dragging the chain didn't work.  He had not gotten beyond sight of the tree where he slept before he stopped.  He gathered the heavy chain in his arms, but after two or three wobbling steps, dropped it. 

"Why did Master have to put this thing on me?" he whined.

In his frustration, it took time to figure out a workable solution.  He draped the chain over his shoulder.  With some of the chain on him and the rest stretched out behind, he could travel at a very slow pace.  For the remainder of the day, he pushed onward. 

Trees laden with fruit taunted him as the chain prevented his paw from reaching even the lowest branch.  When he approached such trees, he searched the ground for whatever appeared fresh.  He tried dining on berries, but they tasted far too bitter.  He tried swallowing the tart berries whole, and his stomach rebelled.  In one mighty heave, he retched much of what he had eaten that day.

Darkness obscured the path and he reclined on a patch of dry grass.  Every unfamiliar sound made his heart beat a little faster as his imagination conjured frightening images.  He tried keeping awake, but after such a long hike and with an empty stomach, blessed sleep soon claimed him.

The sun rose and he stretched.  Progress remained slow and he tired easily.  Now the pain in his head matched the one in his belly.  He plucked a few berries, which he discarded when he tasted them.  With grim determination, he shouldered his chain and continued following the dirt trail.

"Mother said this dirt path would turn into stone.  Mother is always right.  Must do what mother said or she will beat me with a stick."

Just saying those words aloud made him think.  He knew mother loved him.  So why did she threaten him with a stick?  He tried to do whatever she said. 

"I wish I had something to drink."

The path he followed made a sharp bend, which obscured the trail until he made the turn.  When he did, he laughed.  A wide stream flowed across his course.  Like an oasis in a desert, the water called to him. 

With great joy, he flopped into the water face first.  His laughter echoed through the forest as he raised his muddy muzzle from the cold wetness.  That laughter turned into howls of pain as something within the water bit his arm.  He scrambled from the stream, confusion clouding his expression.  His eyes searched for the cause of his injury.

In the water, several large fish swam.  As they passed near the shore, he saw the teeth.  At least he learned these fish attacked any creature foolish enough to enter their watery domain.  They reminded him of something from the ocean voyage he and his mother took. 

"These waters have sharks.  That one sea rat said they would attack any creature that fell in the sea and they did."  He took two paces backward, putting some distance between him and the stream.  "I saw what you did to that ferret when he fell into the sea.  Almost got me too, but I got back to the land.  Sharks are only in water."

So close and for all intents, the water remained as distant as the moon.  With the fish patrolling near the shore, he couldn't drink.  He sat for several moments pondering what he should do.  While he sat, a breeze ruffled the plants along the shore.

It took him several moments to realize that his thrashing in the water snapped many of the reeds lining the shore.  The broken stems waved with the others.  For several long moments, he just stared at the vista before him.  Something about the reeds bothered him.  He plucked one. 

Upon examination, he saw the reed as hollow.  He rolled the reed in his paw, his fevered mind trying to remember why that would be important.  Then he gave a giddy laugh as he approached the stream.  The sharks still patrolled the shore, waiting for him to reenter their realm. 

He placed the end of the reed into the water; the squirrel sucked.  Coldness filled his mouth and he swallowed.  The sharks continued to swim about the reed while he drank his fill, unable to harm him.  Such ingenuity made him laugh.  That sound rebounded through the forest, which startled several birds.  Once he stopped laughing, the birds resumed their serenade.

That momentary distraction ended when he realized this path crossed the stream.   If he stepped into that water, the sharks would attack.  The memory of the shark attack had him check his arm.  He saw the bloody patch of skin and considered himself lucky.  He flexed his arm, pleased that no blood flowed from the wound.

Whenever he had such a hard problem, mother always solved it.  This time, he had to find some way across the stream without her help.  A heavy chain would keep his head below water.  Shallow water and a rocky bottom might snare his chain, which would expose him to attacks from the sharks.  He recalled the pain from just one bite and shuddered thinking what a school of such predatory fish could do.  Even without the sharks, he could not last too long without food if the chain wedged itself between the rocks and he couldn't free it.

His mother's words came back to him.  "If you must choose a different direction, always turn towards your chain."

He turned.  He pushed through the foliage, his progress slowed as he fought to keep his chain free of the undergrowth.  His course followed the water against its current, which allowed him a constant view of the stream.  It remained too wide to cross.  He pressed onward in spite of the fever that still muddled his thoughts.

Up ahead, a rotting log spanned the stream.  Perhaps the tree's collapse happened during a harsh thunderstorm.  Maybe the weight of a mighty snowstorm toppled it.  Then again, age could have done it.  It didn't matter.  The tree had collapsed.  Instead of its lofty boughs scrapping the clouds from the sky, it now provided a means of crossing the shark infested waters.  He rushed as fast as the chain would allow to the natural bridge.

Even resting on its side, the trunk towered over him.  At the back, he did find an easier way onto the natural bridge.  After several aborted tries, he managed the climb.  He sat atop the log, panting from the effort of dragging the chain.  A quick dash and the stream would be behind him.

Still, he hesitated.  Fear kept him there.  If the long chain fell into the water, he would drown.  He gathered the chain into his arms.  Even standing still, the weight made him wobble.  An unsteady step forward and the chain played out of his paws.  Its weight yanked him off the tree.  He didn't even have time to squeal.  He spat out the sandy grit that coated his muzzle.

Once again, he climbed onto the tree bridge.  He gathered both his courage and the chain.  Inch by inch, he crawled across the bridge.  When he got as far as he dared from the piled links, he would pull them closer to him.  The onset of darkness did not deter him. 

With his back to the opposing shore, he had no idea how far he moved.  He would shift backwards as far as he dared and then draw the chain closer to him.  Several times the links started to fall off one side, which had him lunging for the chain.  Little by little, he retrieved it until it sat in a stable pile before him.  He continued his shuffle atop the tree bridge. 

The chain slipped over the side.  Just as his mind realized this, the weight of the chain pulled him off his perch.  He fell hard on his chest, the wind driven from his lungs.  He rose to a four-paw stance, his chest hurting.  His eyes followed the path of his undignified descent and then the wooden bridge.  He had crossed the stream.  Too exhausted to celebrate his victory, he curled up next to the tree where he slipped into a deep sleep.

When morning came, he still felt ill.  With the stream and its sharks behind him, he searched the area for food.  Though he found none, he did locate another dirt path going in the same direction as he traveled before he encountered the stream. 

Good fortune smiled on him as the path soon widened.  Now the trailing end of his chain no longer snagged on every branch or irregularity in the terrain.  He shouldered the chain and leaned forward.  When the dirt changed to grass, he stepped out at a much faster pace.  Hungry and feeling lightheaded, he continued following the trail as he searched for the stony path mother described.

[cairn destop]

Chapter Three
And on the Third Day

The forest maintained a foreboding presence in the hour prior to dawn.  For that one hour, nothing stirred.  The creatures who called the night theirs, prepared for sleep.  Those who favored sunlight had not awakened from their slumber.   Creatures lowered their guard to danger in that hour when night retreated and day had yet to claim the land.

However, the forest did shelter one very alert creature.  His ears twitched as they tried to catch even the faintest of sounds.  He made no other movement, lest even the slightest disturbance attract unwanted attention.  He kept his back against a forest giant, merging into its shadow.  His fingers flexed around the shaft of a spear, confirming its presence.

His keen eyes focused on the clearing beyond the heavy forest.  A dozen paces away, the remains of a campfire burned.  What had started as a hot blaze at sunset, held a reddish glow that competed with the sky above the forest.  On either side of the banked embers, a mound moved in a rhythmic manner. 

A yawn led to a quick stretch.  The silent sentinel stepped away from the tree.  After a second stretch, he gave himself a good shake.  The noise of his own quills rattling sounded like thunder in his ears.  For a long moment, he froze in place while his eyes checked out the entire area once more.  Nothing moved, either in the forest or in the clearing.

He walked towards one of the moving mounds near the fire.  When he stood next to it, he listened to the snores muffled by the blanket encasing the beast.  He reversed his spear and jabbed the bedding with the butt end.  A light snort, and then the rhythmic sound of somebody in deep sleep resumed.  The sentinel dropped the spear and gave the bedding a nudge.  He got no reaction.  He then gave the sleeper a light kick.

Within the depths of the blankets, there came a deep rumbling noise.  The unknown beast issued a growl that resembled a stirred hornet's nest.  A moment later, the prostrate form sat upright, the blanket sliding to his waist, and exposed another hedgehog.

"By the Eternals, Dale.  Couldn't you let me sleep just one more hour?  Look at that sky and tell me we couldn't have a bit more rest." 

Dale said nothing as the once slumbering creature stirred.  Once the other hedgehog emerged from his bedding, Dale spoke in a low voice.  "Listen, Egress, if I gave you another hour, you know what would happen?  Our friend would awaken in a foul mood.  You want to travel all day with him ticked off at us for oversleeping?"

Egress nodded his head.  "You're right, brother.  Besides, if we oversleep, he's going to insist on pushing on without breakfast."

Dale chuckled.  That remark brought back so many fond memories.  They did not share the same parentage, but the similarities in their history had everyone label them brothers.  Both came to Redwall Abbey as babes, abandoned on the same day.  Some resident found him in a bassinet sitting out in a grassy field, which is how he got his name.  A guard discovered Egress inside the sally port when he heard the baby cry. 

Ever since that day, the two shared a common bond.  They grew up as one of the many dibbuns assigned to the previous Badgermom.  They remained close friends.

Dale traveled to another village once he came of age.  There, he married.  In spite of three beautiful dibbuns and a wife that would make any male hedgehog envious, he traveled extensively.  Such was the nature of a merchant of fine herbs and spices.

As for Egress, he remained at Redwall.  He put his enormous strength to good use as the Abbey's blacksmith.  He too married, his children now starting to toddle about their home.  Many a creature made the mistake of thinking the hulking giant of a hedgehog ham-fisted.  It surprised everyone when he displayed the fine cross-stitch samplers he produced.

Throwing some kindling on the hot coals, Egress fanned them.  When the fire came back to life, he placed a few larger pieces of wood on the embers.  Dale rummaged in his backpack for their breakfast while Egress placed the skillet on the fire.  Just then, a loud and angry snarl came from the other blanket pile.  It died as fast as it started and both could once again hear the steady breathing of their third companion. 

"I have no idea how any creature with a sense of hearing can sleep next to him," said Dale.  "Our lady friend must be deaf and just has everyone at Redwall fooled into believing she can still hear."

Egress watched the fire, his back to Dale.  "Best you have the food well on its way to done.  You know how much of a hurry he's in to return.  I'm not blaming him.  The birth of your first child is a special occasion."

"You just think so because your twins were born a season less than two years ago.  Wait until they get to be as old as mine.  Triplets of seven are a challenge to anyone's sanity.  Thank the Eternals for a wife with endless energy and a bountiful crop of switches growing by the door."

"Right," said Egress with a dismissive note to his voice.  "Knowing you, the only thing those kids have to fear is you sewing a button on their shirt."

Both hedgehogs laughed.  Dale tried to imagine what it would be like if what they said had any truth to it.  He couldn't imagine a home without three screaming dibbuns running amok.  It made the five of them a family.  Dale had a feeling Egress felt the same about his two toddlers.

His moment of introspection ended when two arms rose from the other pile of blankets.  With the sky now showing a bit more of the sun's rays, he could make out the third member of their group.  The boar badger stirred from his night's slumber.  The badger stood, gave a slow stretch, and turned towards the fire.

"I take it you two are not going anywhere without a full meal," grumbled the groggy badger.

Egress kept feeding the fire with the remnants of the wood collected yesterday.  "We may as well have a hearty meal, Bruno.  The skillet is hot and the food ready for cooking."

Bruno muttered several expletives about the delay as he cinched his bedroll.  The badger worked fast and by the time Egress served breakfast, Bruno had his blankets properly stowed.  For a moment, the badger hesitated, the backpack dangling from his paw.  His muzzle first pointed at the fire, and then to his cart.

The badger walked away from the fire and flipped his backpack alongside the sundry items strewed within the cart.  Bruno turned away from the cart, hesitated, and then returned to it.  Bruno called over to the two hedgehogs, confirming the pots containing the fruit tree seedlings had dried during the night. 

"If you're in such a hurry," said Dale, "the sooner we finish eating, the sooner we reach Redwall."

Bruno joined the two hedgehogs at the fire.  "Glad to see you two gluttons left a poor badger enough sustenance to keep mind and body together.  I'm just hoping we get moving before the sun begins to settle again."

Dale rolled his eyes skyward, muttering about the sanity of an expectant father.  That comment had the hedgehogs teasing their third companion.  As they ate, they talked about their families.  Bruno kept asking questions about raising a baby.  Some of the answers Egress offered had Dale concentrating on his meal, afraid Bruno might not understand the blacksmith's sense of humor.

With the meal done, Bruno washed the cooking gear while the two hedgehogs lugged the remaining water closer to the cart.  Dale climbed into the cart while Egress passed up a smaller bucket.  When Bruno reminded him to leave the pots damp, Dale chuckled. 

The chore done, he jumped down next to the blacksmith.  "Every morning we water these plants and every morning he grouses that we will drown his precious new trees.  If he is so concerned about how much water we use, why doesn't he do this?"

"His thoughts are not about those plants.  What torments him is his wife.  He wants to get home before their firstborn is delivered."

"If he was so worried about missing the blessed event, why even leave Redwall?"

The blacksmith checked their remaining water supply, keeping his voice low.  "Our Healer said there was plenty of time and Tassel insisted he go on this trip.  She said it would do him a world of good getting away from a pregnant wife.  Not to mention her peace and quiet."

"Yeah, what you mean is that Badgermom Tassel thought he was getting underfoot.  She wanted a few days without his hovering presence.  Lucky us, we get to suffer his anxiety."

While the two hedgehogs watered the plants, the badger packed their gear.  He rolled up their blankets and tied them to the top of their backpacks.  He then slung the backpacks through the discarded spear and stomped towards the cart.  He spent several moments arranging, and rearranging, the gear in the cart.  The task finished, he faced the two hedgehogs.

"We're wasting daylight.  Bad enough you two try drowning my new seedlings, now you dawdle as if we have all season to reach home."  It didn't help Bruno's temperament when both hedgehogs rattled their spikes.  "Go ahead and laugh, you two walking pincushions.  This cart has all our food and I can drag it faster than either of you can walk."

Bruno had a bit of a problem donning the harness, which had him talking to himself.  As the badger leaned forward, the cart remained in place.  With an angry grunt and a protesting screech from the wheels, Bruno started the wagon on its way.  Egress jogged about a dozen paces ahead of the cart, his weapon resting on his shoulder.

Dale knew only a fool would risk attacking an armed badger.  Still, he kept his paw near his weapon in the unlikely event they ran into such a beast.  He scanned the forest on either side of the wide field as he paced the badger. 

The badger called him closer.  "I wonder if I made a mistake stopping at your village.  Your mate didn't seem too pleased with your decision."

He nodded.  Dale remembered how enthusiastically he greeted Egress when they entered his hometown.  After several crushing hugs, Egress told him Tassel was expecting her first child.  Dale became so happy; one thought him the expectant father as he rushed about his home packing his knapsack.  His wife protested, but relented when he would brook no objection.

During that first day, the two hedgehogs walked together, reminiscing about their former Badgermom.  Each of them recounted the many anecdotes they shared and the mischief they caused as dibbuns.  By nightfall, they had discussed their lives as respected elders.  They remained so engrossed in their conversation that they forgot about their third companion.

"She might be a little upset, but she understands," said Dale, "though I'll be having many cold meals when I get home."

Bruno's laughter at his impending predicament had him smile.  Dale took that friendly gesture as an opening for a conversation.  He drew closer to the badger.

"Sir, you do know I wanted to attend the wedding.  It was just unfortunate I received the message a month after the fact.  I hope she enjoyed the selection of spices I sent to her, especially the peppermints.  They were a favorite of hers when I knew her."

"So tell me Dale, how is it that you know my wife?"

"We met when she first came to Redwall.  I'm surprised she never told you about her past."

"It was a condition she set for our marriage.  I was never to seek information regarding the time before she became the Badgermom.  The only thing I have learned in my four years of marriage is that the Law considers Tassel vermin.  I don't even know what crimes she committed that would keep her confined to the Abbey and so many of the residents resentful of her presence."

Dale studied Bruno's face, trying to read his expression.  He wondered how the badger would react to anyone besmirching the name of his mate.  He knew what he might do to anyone speaking ill of his mate, which made him cautious.  He walked a while in silence, deep in thought.  Dale stared at the badger as he considered his words.

"It's not my place to say what your mate did, but maybe I can explain why so many dislike her."

When Bruno said nothing, Dale plunged into his explanation.  "Those of us that call Redwall home believe we have a higher standard of honor and justice.  Many of our residents cannot forgive, nor forget, her past crimes.  They believe Tassel escaped the justice due her.   Even some that were more forgiving feel her punishment too lenient."

Bruno emitted a low growl as he pulled the cart uphill.  "All that happened so long ago.  Doesn't her honorable service as the Badgermom mean anything to them?"

"I'm afraid not.  They see your mate's liberty within Redwall as a blemish against our reputation of seeking justice at any cost.  As for me, I always believed what punishment she received, justified.  However, like any wayward child, once done, it should be finished.  Nothing is gained by harping on her past sins."

Dale wanted to say more, but Bruno's reaction stopped him.  With a shrug of his shoulders, the badger slipped out of the harness.  In one fluid motion, Bruno snatched his broadsword and drew it.  The smiling badger had the appearance of a warrior preparing for a duel.  Dale turned towards Egress, hoping he might change the badger's mood. 

Then he noticed Egress no longer carried his metal-studded club across his shoulder.  Now his stance reflected the expectation of battle.  Without thinking, Dale reached for his own twin hatchets.  Together, Bruno and Dale moved towards Egress, their eyes scanning the forest on either side of them.

As the others came closer, Egress whispered, "We have slavers roaming the area."

The hedgehog blacksmith moved with the care of a hunter, examined the soft ground.  He pointed to a long drag mark that crushed the grass.  A bare patch of dirt showed the clear indentation of a chain link.  Egress found one blurred footprint. 

"This doesn't make sense," said Dale.  "All the signs indicate the slaves crossed the field like a flotilla of drunken otters.  Why didn't the guards keep them moving in a straight line?"

Egress pointed to an indentation.  "You're confused?  Look at this lone footprint.  This is either an old toddler  or a very light-footed dibbun.  Never knew slavers to take anyone this young without an attending elder."

"The trail is fresh, perhaps an hour or two old," said Bruno.  "If they continue following that pathway, several villages could be in danger if we don't stop them first."

Dale nodded.  "Where there is one chain and one slave, there are sure to be many more.  We can expect a heavy contingent of guards, and all of them experienced warrior.  Anything less would be the act of a fool since this region is guarded by hares of the Long Patrol."

Always the pragmatic one, Egress voiced the question in everyone's mind.  "What do we do?  The three of us could never hope to overpower an armed force without their captives being injured, or worse."

Bruno's fingered the edge of his broadsword.  "My wife would kill me if I didn't do something.  I'll follow these raiders and scout them out while the two of you race to the Abbey."

Dale protested.  "No way are we letting you commit suicide.  If it's dangerous for three to engage these slavers, then it will be insanity meeting them alone.  You want to trail them, then we're not about to abandon you."

The badger laughed.  "Not to worry, friend.  All I want to do is scout who and what we have to fight.  Dying a hero's death is the last thing I intend doing, especially when my wife is expecting."

"Much as I dislike the idea," said Egress, "I agree with him.  We can raise the alarm a lot faster than he could, even if he leaves the cart here.  Redwall can have a large force mobilized and ready to leave within an hour of our arrival.  Say a full day running to the Abbey and two days back.  Once we're reunited with Bruno, say in four days, we can devise a plan."




All three agreed.  Bruno returned to the cart and pulled it off to the side of the trail where he hid it behind several tall bushes.  His two hedgehog companions handed him their gear, and then jogged off in the direction of the Abbey.  The last thing he overheard was Dale and Egress boasting about which of them would reach the Abbey first. 

Bruno rummaged in the cart and repacked his gear.  Other than the sleeping blankets, he found enough food to last two days.  He buckled on his broadsword and crossed the field.  He stood at the forest edge and cursed his stupidity.  Bruno returned to the cart and retrieved the three canteens filled with water.  Now he was ready.

As he tracked the slavers, Bruno growled.  "Those raiders will die a horrible death if even one of their captives is harmed.  This I swear by every spirit of Dark Forest."

[cairn destop]

Chapter Four
The Infirmary

Healer Shortspike poured bleach into the hot water.  She then dumped a generous portion of grated soap into the bucket.  Her paws churned the mixture until it turned into a frothy mixture.  The nude hedgehog stood and scrubbed her arms.  While she worked, she ignored the scream that reverberated through the small room.  She repeated her wash, the vigorous actions slopping water onto the tiled floor.

She glanced to her right.  At the apothecary table, a male hare heated a small pot over a low flame.  He grabbed different bottles, read their labels, and measured out these ingredients.  Their patient's wails did not affect him.

Shortspike found the hare a contradiction to his race, but a welcomed one.  Lekar didn't have a violent bone in his body.  Unlike other hares living by Salamandastron, he avoided combat.  Instead, he pursued a medical career.

The army trained him, and he excelled at performing battlefield medicine.  His innovative efforts won him praise, but also garnished the resentment of his patients.  The military medical staff decided their apprentice healer needed further training.  Two months ago, they sent him to Redwall Abbey.  To quote the letter his commander sent, "round off his sharp edges with lessons on bedside manners."

That she did.  Lekar learned dibbuns with tummy aches and elders with sore joints fought when confronted by a belligerent healer.  A few of the younger patients punctured his thumb with tiny teeth.  The elders lanced his ego with sharp words.  After a month, he made a concerted effort to change his attitude.  Shortspike requested his presence here as a reward for his diligence.   She wondered if he would agree with that assertion.

"How soon will that potion be ready," Shortspike said.

"I'm putting it in the flask right now.  I had to let it cool before corking it, Healer."

Healer Shortspike turned left when she heard wood scrapping across the tile.  A young mouse, just entering her teen years, leaned across a table.  Her head shifted left, then right, and back to left.  Just as she dipped a quill into the inkwell, the patient screamed.  Tanar cringed and the inkbottle wobbled.

"Get any of that ink on my operating floor, Tanar, and I'll have you replacing every stained tile."

Tanar pestered the previous healer for an opportunity at reading the medical journals.  Healer Fazbee welcomed her and she scoured every book given.  With the consent of her parents, she started her medical apprenticeship.

A few days later, Healer Fazbee hustled across a wintry courtyard.  At more than four score in years, he should have known better.  An unseen patch of ice and a wayward foot combined.  The resulting spill proved fatal, which left Tanar so dazed that she resembled a rudderless ship in a stormy sea.

Father Hughnaught, the prior Father Abbot of Redwall, summoned Shortspike back home.  When the hedgehog arrived, Tanar fell at her feet.  The mouse groveled, begging for her position.  How could she reject some beast with such enthusiasm?  Together, the two ran the Abbey's infirmary.  Healer Shortspike wanted this birth to be something special for her young apprentice.  It looked like she got her wish.

"I don't want to miss even one detail, Healer," Tanar said.

While she questioned her younger assistant, the hare procured the necessary tools.  Lekar crouched like a sprinter waiting for the start of a race.  His eyes bore into her.

"This is your last chance, Lekar.  Can you handle the job?  We could switch places if you're not too sure."

"I can do it."

At that moment, the young mouse whined.  "Why are we treating our patient like this?  It looks more like we're preparing to perform some fiendish torture, not surgery."

"Her restraints are for our safety.  Female badgers in this situation can go into the blood wrath, which would be as dangerous for us as it is for her.  Just be ready when she finishes the next time."

As if on cue, the female badger screeched.  Her body arched upward, the leather restraint showing signs of splitting under the continual abuse.  Arms and legs strained against the chains holding her.  The table cracked as several boards splintered.  The patient's energy spent, she collapsed.

Shortspike rushed to the foot of the table carrying the soapy bucket.  She poured a generous portion over her patient's distended stomach and scrubbed her belly fur.  She lifted the bucket, dumping the rest of the disinfectant onto the patient, herself, and the floor.  She spared a quick glance upward.

Lekar used the box he carried to jump onto the table.  Kneeling by the patient's head, the hare pressed his knees together.  With the badger's head held tight, he forced the mouth open and inserted a flexible hose down her throat.  Despite her efforts, the hare got the tube where he wanted.  His teeth yanked the cork out of the flask and he poured the contents down the tube.  He stroked the throat and the patient swallowed.

"Time is now thirty after the hour.  She took it all, Healer."

The mouse pushed the instrument cart into the table, and then raced back to her table.  Shortspike checked out the alignment of the tray.  Every tool sat in its proper place, ready for her use.  On the bottom shelf, a box held a solution of bleach. 

Tanar worked on setting up the artist easel she procured earlier.  The mouse then mounted her drawings onto the wooden panel.  The girl kept moving the easel until the healer nodded.  She remained at her post.

Shortspike grabbed a small leather strap and gave the patient one hard stroke on her heel.  She flipped the strap into the box.  It disappeared with a splash.

"Give me your report."

Lekar leaned over the badger, a heart tube stuck in his ear.  One paw hovered over the patient's nose while he used the other to pry one of her eyelids open.

"Her breathing is very shallow, but steady.  I'm having a difficult time detecting her heartbeat; it's that slow.  No reaction to pain, her eyes are not responding to the light overhead."

Shortspike held her paws out to the hare.  He raced over to a water barrel and filled a bucket with clean water.  The hare poured it over her paws.  When she pointed to the badger, he splashed her.  Water cascaded onto the floor.

The healer's paw reached for the medical tool cart.  Without looking, her fingers wrapped themselves around the proper instrument.  She weaved an intricate pattern in the air with the blade, checking it in the lantern's light.  Her arm slashed at the belly, shaving the fur.  A flick of the wrist scattered the hair onto the floor and left the blade spotless.  Once done, she tossed the blade into the box that held the strap.

She lifted a thin rod topped with a small blade.  Shortpike placed the blade against the belly, and then checked the material posted on the easel.  The blade lifted, moved to the left, and hovered over the bare patch of skin.  Shortspike's lips moved as she read the instructions. 

"That potion has been working for six minutes and we have less than thirty before she awakens," said Lekar.

Healer Shortspike pressed the blade against the skin until blood spurted.  With a practiced ease, she drew the blade closer.  The hare dashed a dipper of water over the wound and Shortspike cleared the area of the blood.  As the wound refilled, she grabbed the next instrument.

"I hope you knew what you were doing when you wrote this, Kurella."

* * *

A large contingent of creatures assembled outside the Healer's Operating Room.  To those present, this long eighteen-hour vigil had been far too taxing and showed no signs of ending anytime soon.

Robertasin, who now held the title of Mother Abbot, paced the full length of the corridor.  Her path would go from the very end of the Healer's realm to a point even with the doorknob of the Operating Room.  Her pace reflected the dignity of her office as she strove to maintain a concerned, but aloof attitude.

Her stoic veneer crumbled each time the badger howled.  She ceased her pacing and cringed.  Robertasin's long bushy tail thrashed from side to side as she listened to the sound.  She stood like a marble statue while it echoed throughout the hallway. 

When blessed silence returned, the Mother Abbot had the time to remember her relationship with the badger, Tassel.  She refused to attend the wedding, as she couldn't stand the idea of some vermin beast finding happiness.  The announcement of Tassel's first pregnancy sent her to the nearest tavern where she got drunk. 

Two months later, when Tassel miscarried, she raced home.  She and her elderly parents celebrated the news long into the night.  When the badger miscarried a second time, Robertasin almost pranced the two miles that separated her home from the Abbey's gate.  Though her house had no occupants, other than the sheep she tended, she toasted the news of her loss.

Now she stood in the corridor because duty required it.  Six months earlier, she achieved her goal.  When the Father Abbot died, she campaigned for his position.  Robertasin dreamed of the day she could rid the Abbey of Tassel.  Her fantasy died when Shortspike marched into her office and announced Tassel's third pregnancy.

From that night, Robertasin found herself in the unenviable position of subordinate.  Healer Shortspike exercised her absolute authority regarding medical matters, which placed Tassel under her direct care, and beyond the Mother Abbot's reach.  The healer turned into a tyrant, establishing rules concerning what the badger could, or could not do.  Whenever challenged, she made it clear that getting her patient through this pregnancy consumed her every thought.

Just after the morning bells had rung, the badger went into labor a full eight days earlier than expected.  With the help of every youngster under her care, she made it to the Infirmary.  Since then, not one of the dibbuns left the corridor.  Whenever the badger voiced her pain, it turned into a sharp knife somebody twisted in each child's gut. 

After eighteen hours, the stress showed.  Two hedgehogs rattled their spikes in time with her cries, trying to shake off the sound.  A pair of squirrels embraced each other; the older male held onto the younger female as he offered her solace.  Four other beasts paced the corridor, their steps becoming faster whenever they heard their Badgermom's cries.  Three others leaned against the wall, exhausted beyond endurance.  None had moved since the ordeal began.

Two elders approached.  The first elder was Head Nurse Boteza.  The old squirrel ran the Nursery at Redwall and made it a point to attend every birth.  Nurse Boteza offered invaluable assistance to the new parents.  New mothers needed her guidance as they learned everything about caring for a newborn, regardless of what they thought they knew about raising children.

The vole Henrietta followed.  Robertasin walked briskly towards her, reaching her at the entrance to the Infirmary.  She allowed the nurse to pass her, but stopped the vole.

"You and your mate volunteered to watch these dibbuns while that badger was in labor.  Why are you letting them stay here when the evening bell has sounded?  Bad enough they haven't eaten today, but this is nothing short of irresponsible."

Henrietta kept her voice soft, aware that several of the children watched them.  "These children consider Tassel their mother.  I'll not drag them off for something as trivial as a meal.  However, I do agree that it's time I get them tucked in for the night."

Robertasin wanted to say something, but remained silent.  Nurse Boteza and Henrietta herded the reluctant children out of the Infirmary.  The two younger shrews protested, but it did not sway either elder.  A few steps further and the menagerie of beasts turned around the corner.

With no other beast around, she sat on one of the benches.  Her eyes grew heavy after the long wait in spite of the noise coming from the operating room.  Something happened she couldn't identify and it brought her to full alertness.   Her eyes focused on Boteza and Henrietta who grinned at her as if they shared a special secret.

She stretched.  "I take it those children will remain in the dormitory until morning."

Henrietta nodded.  "A soft bed and a warm blanket put them under.  I did promise a few I would let them know if anything happened, but I'll wait until morning.  They need their sleep."

Nurse Boteza leaned forward, the grin intensifying.  "While you dozed off, Tassel stopped crying.  Now all we need is to hear what happened from our Healer."

[cairn destop]

Chapter Five
Bruno Meets a Squirrel Youth

Senses alert, Bruno scanned the immediate area for movement.  He followed the trail from the edge of the forest, moving with as much stealth as possible.  He tested each step to avoid breaking any deadfall.  The forest remained silent.  A sharp whistle on the far side of the path had him freeze in place, looking for the source of the noise.  Atop a low branch, a small bird repeated the sound.

Bruno held his broadsword close to the tree he hid behind, fearing the sun might reflect off the polished metal.  He searched the trees below the singing bird.  Nothing moved.  His nose tested the air, but detected the presence of no other beast.  He broke cover and ran to the far side of the path where he continued stalking the slavers.

Once certain that nothing hid in the trees on either side, he checked the trail he crossed.  He found drag marks from a chain, which confirmed Bruno's assertion that he followed the right trail.  The grass showed the impressions of a dragged chain, but no sign of the slavers. 

He pushed onward; determine to catch a sight of the slavers or their captives before sunset.  Bruno raced through the forest on his side in the hopes of jumping in front of them.  A quick check of the trail as he crossed to the opposite side showed nothing had disturbed the grass.  Bruno found a large bush that hid him while offering an unobstructed view of the trail.  He waited.

A bird exploded from a bush at the opposite end of the trail.  It squawked and fluttered from one branch to another.  The feathered sentinel then flew in rapid circles above the path as it announced the arrival of some intruder.  Bruno shifted, burying his sword in the forest debris as he checked the location of the sun.  A favorable breeze pushed his scent away from the trail.

Down the grassy path trudged a solitary beast.  Bruno figured the kit squirrel no more than a few months past the toddler stage based on his height.  As the squirrel approached Bruno's hiding place, he staggered from one side to the other. 

He drew close enough that Bruno could see every detail.  The chain he dragged ran from a metal cuff on his right ankle up to his shoulder, down his back, and a fair distance behind him.  His shirt appeared too tight as the faded cloth clung to his chest like a second skin.  The squirrel's pants had a large gash over one knee that exposed the kit squirrel's grey fur each time he took a step.  The squirrel never looked left or right as he continued down the trail.

Bruno remained hidden.  He did not intend to offer the lone child any assistance since it seemed too obvious a trap.  Bruno played the most likely scenario.  He would go out to help the child and a dozen slavers would surround him.  Then the slavers would take him to a separate holding place while they baited their trap for the next helpful woodlander.

Every sense came into play for Bruno.  He scanned the far side of the path, looking for some movement within the tree line.  His nose took long sniffs as he searched for some unexpected scent.  His ears tried catching even the slightest disturbance.  Bruno turned his head, verifying that no other beast moved on his side of the forest. 

When the kit squirrel passed out of his sight, Bruno remained crouched behind the bush.  As he searched the woods for the anticipated trap, the bird that alerted him to the squirrel's arrival broke out in song.  The bird continued its melody for several moments before it flew down to a bush on the side of the trail.  Silence returned to the forest.

He stood.  Bruno scratched his head as nothing he saw made sense.  The squirrel had to be an escaped slave.  His owner must consider him valuable, or he wouldn't hobble him with such a heavy chain.  He had to be on his trail.  Where was he?  Even the most arthritic elder at the Abbey could catch this child without any trouble, regardless of how big a lead he had.

A familiar buzzing sound caught his attention and Bruno tracked the source of the noise.  In a wild apple tree, a swarm of bees nested.  Good fortune smiled on him when Bruno found several ripened apples.  He used his broadsword to knock them off the tree and stuffed them into his pocket.

Bruno strolled back onto the grassy path the squirrel followed and pursued his young quarry.  As he rounded the next bend, he saw the child.  After five years at Redwall, Bruno looked forward to the kit's reaction.  Every dibbun at the Abbey found him a source of wonderment.  Many followed him wherever he went, and he enjoyed their attention.

He reversed the broadsword and stabbed one of the chain links bouncing through the grass behind the youngster.  The squirrel came to a halt.  Without turning, the squirrel backed up two steps and lunged forward.  Since Bruno hadn't put much weight on the sword, the squirrel managed to free himself.  He continued down the path, never looking behind him.  Bruno admired his determination.

He stepped onto the chain.  This time, he knew the squirrel must stop.  Like the prior time, the squirrel backed up a few steps before he lunged forward.  A second time he did it without success.  Bruno waited.  After the third try, the squirrel shucked off the chain and turned.

The kit squirrel's eyes grew so large Bruno wondered if they would pop out of his head.  The squirrel ran while a surprised Bruno continued to stand on the chain.  He went four paces before the chain snapped taunt.  The squirrel fell and Bruno rushed up to his side.  The kit squirrel gathered his chain by pulling it closer, his eyes focused on Bruno.

"No such thing as monsters.  It's not real.  It's not real."

That kind of reaction he never expected.  Bruno now stood near the spot where the squirrel fell, too stunned to speak.  The squirrel shouldered his chain and continued his walk, muttering about monsters.  When the path made a turn, Bruno no longer saw the squirrel.

Bruno followed.  As he drew closer, he picked up the chain, gathering it in his paw.  By the time he drew even with the squirrel, Bruno held all of the chain's weight and the squirrel walked unencumbered.  He matched the dibbun's pace.

Several times the kit squirrel glanced over, but remained silent.  Then he struck Bruno's hip a light blow.  The squirrel fell to his knees, grabbing Bruno's leg.

"The monster is real.  Please don't hurt me; I'll do anything you order, master."

His expression reminded Bruno of the children his mate cared for if they did something wrong.  They would run to him and offer a quick confession.  A sincere apology saved most from his mate's apparent wrath.  He knew Tassel just wanted an admission of guilt.

Bruno crossed the path and sat on a rock.  He beckoned the squirrel to sit on his lap, an invitation no Abbey dibbun ever refused.  Instead of running over, the squirrel shook like a tree in a heavy wind.  He approached Bruno, placed his arms behind his back, and settled across Bruno's knees.

He seized the squirrel, his paws encircling the kit squirrel's body.  Bruno lifted the frightened dibbun and sat him on his lap, his one arm acting as a support for the kit's back.  He tried cooing to the squirrel and fondled his ear with a gentle touch.  The squirrel reacted as if Bruno punched him.  His eyes remained closed, tears welling in the corners.  Bruno left him alone and kept quiet.  He waited.

The kit squirrel opened his eyes and gazed at him.  Then he moved his paws and folded them in his lap.  His tail now drooped downward, its tip brushing the grass.  Whenever Bruno's eyes met his, he lowered his eyes.

Bruno offered the kit squirrel an apple.  His paws reached for the offering, but dropped to his lap as if the food remained out of his reach.  When Bruno repeated the offer, the squirrel struck with the speed of a lightning bolt.  Pieces of the apple rained down as the dibbun chewed.  Once he swallowed what he had, his fingers hunted down any pieces he could find.  Bruno resisted the urge to count his fingers.

Bruno shifted the squirrel on his knees, withdrew his knife, and another apple from his pocket.  As Bruno sliced it into four segments, the kit squirrel's eyes never strayed from the fruit.  Bruno offered him one of the slices.  Once more, the squirrel snatched it, and in a single motion, shoved it into his mouth.  He waved the next slice in front of the squirrel, but yanked it out of his reach.

"All those apple slices are yours.  Now you eat this next piece slowly and when you're finished, you will get another one."

Once he finished the apple, Bruno offered him his canteen.  After a short drink, the two of them struggled for control.  The squirrel tried draining it dry while Bruno stopped him from drinking more.  He didn't want the squirrel coming down with an upset stomach after what had to be his first meal of the day.  Bruno asked the squirrel for his name.

"This one is called Chitter, Lord.  Mother always said I talked too much and so she decided she would call me that because I always chitter-chattered as a baby.  I suppose I still do, don't I Lord?"

Bruno laughed.  "Well Chitter, my name is Bruno and I have a feeling we're going to be great friends.  Tell me how you came to be here?"

"Will Bruno be this one's master or will I be living with another?  I want to know so I can speak of your kindness to his slave."

"You are fortunate to be with me.  Another badger, my mate, will be the one to care for you, but I will always be there whenever you need me.  She's not always kind if you're naughty, but I bet you're a very well behaved dibbun.  We are both going to be like your parents.  Tell me where yours are and we will go to them."

Chitter hesitated.  Bruno prodded him with a few questions, which the child answered.  Each time he finished speaking, Chitter's eyes focused on his knees.  Eventually, he learned everything.

He and his mother served another, who gave them as a gift to a wildcat warlord.  Chitter related how the warlord then turned him over to his kitten daughter.  While they traveled overland to the seaport, Chitter related some of the cruelties the kitten enjoyed at his expense.  As the squirrel told it, his mother did nothing to prevent his suffering.

During the long sea voyage, their ship encountered a bad storm and it came to shore for repairs.  One night, Chitter's mother collected his chain and they escaped.  Just before dawn, his mother helped him hide in a tall tree.  She left him there.

Around midday, three of the crew beasts led Chitter's mother down the path by his hiding place.  Chitter poked his head out of the tree and his mother fled in the opposite direction.  The crew gave chase and Chitter ducked inside the bore.  She didn't go far since they had hobbled her after her capture.  The three sailors punched and kicked their helpless captive until she begged for mercy.  When they tired of their sport, they continued down the forest trail.  Chitter remained within the bore.

Bruno's thoughts grew dark.  Within his mind, he saw each of those vermin sailors.  His imagination devised some of the most gruesome deaths possible.  He wanted them to suffer for their cruelty.  Each time he thought about how they tormented their helpless prisoner, his anger increased.

Chitter kept his muzzle pointing at the ground as he concluded his narration.  "When mother left, she said she would beat me with a stick if I didn't obey her.  She hates me."

Bruno seized Chitter's head in a firm grip and stared deep into his eyes.  "You are never to say that again.  Your mother loved you so much she did everything she could to protect you from those vermin.  She is a very brave lady."

He lifted Chitter off his lap and had him stand on the rock.  Bruno directed the squirrel to use his backpack as a seat.  Once certain Chitter couldn't fall, Bruno gathered the chain in one paw.  He gave Chitter's ankle a gentle squeeze with his other paw as he retraced their course.

"I pity any beast that gets between me and your mother.  We're wasting daylight; let's go find her."

[cairn destop]

Two Missions Begin

The trail back proved easy to follow since Bruno knew it held no dangers.  When he reached the point where Egress discovered Chitter's trail, Bruno knelt, which allowed the kit squirrel a chance to walk.  Bruno dropped the chain as he carved an arrow into the dirt with his broadsword.

Satisfied with his work, Bruno gathered the chain and the two rushed down the path.  After a run of a hundred paces, he stopped.  Chitter lagged, his tongue hung from one side while his chest heaved.  In his enthusiasm to find Chitter's mother, he forgot how tired the kit squirrel must be. 

Dropping to one knee, Bruno had the squirrel climb onto his backpack.  With the chain in his paw and the squirrel secured, Bruno raced down the trail.  The signs remained clear and easy to find with sunlight.

As Bruno raced the waning light, he noticed a change in his small companion.  When they started their trip, the squirrel bombarded him with questions.  Most of these centered on what things Bruno carried, why he used a broadsword, or why Bruno did something.  Now his companion remained quiet.  Bruno guessed Chitter must be close to exhaustion after a full day dragging his chain.

Bruno entered a wide clearing.  He checked the surrounding area and deemed it a suitable campsite.  At the far end, water rushed under a fallen tree that spanned a stream.  The woods had plenty of deadfall and enough rocks for a fire.  When he announced his intention to establish camp, Chitter did not respond. 

He bowed, which dumped the kit squirrel over his head.  Chitter squealed.  Bruno held onto the chain, dangling the squirrel less than a paw's width from the ground.  He lowered the chain until Chitter stood. 

He directed the squirrel to gather whatever wood he could find within sight of his campsite.  Each time Chitter returned with an armful of kindling, Bruno stacked it to the side.  The larger pieces Bruno arranged within a ring of stones.  With sufficient kindling and wood, Bruno applied flint to stone.  A small fire caught.

Satisfied that the fire would not burn out, Bruno grabbed a pot and walked towards the stream.  He bent down to fill the pot.  Chitter screamed.  Without thinking, Bruno dashed to where the squirrel stood, certain something had happened.  Chitter's expression confirmed the fear in his voice.

"Don't go in that water, master.  It's full of sharks."  Chitter pointed to a large scab on his arm.  "They almost got me.  Sharks can kill master."

Bruno almost laughed, but then noticed the wound.  Though he knew no shark swam within fresh water, something did frighten the dibbun.  A few comforting words and Bruno approached the stream a second time, but with a bit of caution.  In the light of the campfire, he spotted a school of fish.

One swam near the shore and Bruno identified it as a small pike.  Given time, and with deeper waters, such fish sometimes grew big enough to kill the unwary.  These must be new fry.  They had enough size to give a dibbun a good scare, but not some beast like Bruno.  Instead of danger, he saw an excellent opportunity for a meal.

He cut a small slice of the apple still in his pocket and held it between two fingers.  Bruno dangled it in the water and one of the larger fish rushed towards him.  Bruno dipped the pot, which swept the pike into the container.  He returned to the fire with his prize.

Bruno dumped the water on the ground.  The fish flopped while Chitter retreated to the safety of the fire.  Bruno grasped the slippery pike.  A few deft strokes and he had the fish ready for cooking.

Chitter stayed near him as he fixed another pot of water.  As the water came to a boil, Bruno filled it with whatever food he had in his backpack.  Chitter's mouth watered.  When Bruno passed the hot mush to the squirrel, he couldn't stop thanking him.  Both finished their respective meals and Bruno went to the stream where he cleaned what little was left.

When he returned, Bruno unrolled his blanket.  Chitter followed his directions, placing the wood on the fire.  Bruno settled down for a good night's sleep.  Chitter remained at the fire until Bruno invited him into his bedroll.  The kit squirrel dropped to all fours and darted under the blankets.  A few seconds later, his head appeared and Bruno tucked the blanket around them.  They slept.

* * *

"A whole day, I've wasted a whole day," grumbled Robertasin.  She glanced at her two associates sitting on the opposite bench.  "That was the final bell?"

Henrietta nodded.  "I had to keep my shop closed so I could watch Tassel's young charges."  The vole giggled.  "Easiest job ever since they never left the Infirmary."

The operating door opened.  The hare, Lekar, crossed the hallway and entered the other room.  The nude hare never acknowledged any of the three females.  They did not consider the hare's lack of attire scandalous.  Healers found it easier cleaning blood off fur than garments.

Two of the females hesitated at the threshold.  Nurse Boteza pushed her way inside.  She joined the hare as he relayed hot water from a large cauldron hanging in the fireplace to an elevated tank.  Lekar stepped into the large metal basin below the tank, pulled on the cord hanging by the spout, and water cascaded down on him.  With quick strokes, the hare removed the water from his fur.  He stepped out of the pink tinged puddle and dried himself.

Just as he finished, Healer Shortspike entered the room.  Her facial expression showed no emotion.  Leker guided her onto a stool under the spout and doused her with the warm water.  He worked up a thick lather with the soap sitting by the basin, and then rinsed her of the pinkish suds.  Throughout his tender care, the hedgehog never reacted to her surroundings.

Lekar dried her.  The Healer focused her bloodshot eyes on the others.  Her first words sounded like a disembodied voice, devoid of life.  Those words came across as a command as she requested something to drink. 

"I believe she keeps her tea set in the other room," said Robertasin.  "I'll start the pot."

A moment later, the other two returned.  Nurse Boteza held a tray while Henrietta carried fresh garments.  The three fussed over the healer while the hare retreated.  All kept quiet while Shortspike sipped at the hot brew.  Robertasin grabbed a chair and placed it before the healer so she could rest her head on the backrest without turning her back on the exhausted hedgehog.  While she allowed the healer a respite, the other two pressed forward.

"Come on now," said Henrietta.  "Tell us if Tassel's pup is a boy or a girl."

"Yes, do tell," piped in Nurse Boteza.  "Did she have a boar or a sow?"

They repeated themselves at least three times in their eagerness to hear the news.  The hedgehog's expression never changed; she acted as if she neither heard nor saw them hovering on either side.  Shortspike gave a simple one-word reply.

"Yes."

Now Robertasin vented her vexation at the nonresponsive answer.  "Healer Shortspike, these two ladies want to know if Badgermom Tassel had a male or female child.  So shake those cobwebs out of your head and answer them."

Shortspike continued staring into space.  The hedgehog finished her drink.  "I already told you."

Mother Abbot Robertasin addressed the Healer as if she were an addle-minded creature by enunciating each word.  "We know the baby is either a boar, or a sow.  We want to know which it is.  Give us a straight answer."

The Healer held out her empty cup.  In their enthusiasm, Henrietta and Boteza moved between her and the hedgehog, blocking her view.  Robertasin abandoned her chair and walked over to the fireplace.  She leaned against the stone mantle while the other two did everything but pour the tea down the healer's throat.

"She had twins.  One boar and one sow." The Healer delivered the line with a flat monotone voice Robertasin attributed to her eighteen-hour ordeal in the Operating Room.

As for the vole Henrietta and the squirrel Boteza, they both broke out in celebration.  The two matronly elders danced and hugged each other in a wild display of jubilation.  While they bounced up and down like two teens, they squealed with delight.  Robertasin poured herself a cup of tea.  She kept her counsel, but found such wild actions unbecoming of any adult.

It took these two celebrants another moment before they realized the Healer wasn't smiling.  Even the Mother Abbot noticed the forlorn expression on the face of the hedgehog.

"Why the long face," asked Nurse Boteza.

"You cannot imagine what it was like in there," said the Healer.  "She was in labor all that time and those pups refused to come out.  I had to try something so radical that I feared my efforts would kill all of them."

"Did mother or child die," asked Henrietta.  Robertasin almost laughed at how fast her expression changed from exuberant joy to dread.

Shortspike acquired that glazed-eye look of the exhausted pushed too far.  "No beast ever birthed babies using a knife.  Healer Kurella's medical journals described it, but said it usually ended with the mother, the babe, or both dead.  Thank the Eternals all lived through the procedure."

Robertasin snapped out her retort.  "If everyone survived, explain the long face."

Healer Shortspike's monotone voice filled the quiet room.  "There is every probability all three will die.  Both babies are woefully undersized, and having trained at a badger clan, I have seen my share of small badger babies." 

Tears rolled down the Healer's muzzle.  "As for Tassel, the operation didn't go so well for her either.  She may not recover from the heavy loss of blood.  The only way I could complete the operation and save the twins was to spay her.  If she loses these two babies, she can never have others."

Now Robertasin understood the hedgehog's depressed mood.  No healer ever performed such an operation without the patient's consent, unless it became a medical necessity.  Many females slipped into a deep depression and committed suicide when they learned what happened.  That one thought had the Mother Abbot smile.  She stared into the fireplace, watching the flames dance.  Robertasin kept her back to the others.

"Regrettable that our abbey will lose those two pups, they are innocents and I will mourn their passing.  At least we shall reduce the number of vermin in this world by one when Tassel enters Hellsgate, which is where that filthy beast belongs."

A few seconds later, Robertasin felt a tap on her shoulder.  When she turned, she never had a chance.  A brown paw connected with her jaw.  The blow rocked her and Robertasin sprawled on the floor.  An enraged hedgehog stood over her.

"You have the nerve to say such a thing?  I always suspected your hatred of her blinded you to all the good she has done.  When you were a dibbun, you mirrored your elders, and they had some justification for their feelings.  As an adult, you had no reservations expressing your dislike for Tassel. Such was your right.

"But now you are the Mother Abbot.  That means you have to put aside your prejudice.  You have to forget your childhood hatreds.  Your only consideration as Mother Abbot is deciding if Redwall Abbey is better off with her as our Badgermom.  If you dare to answer no to that question, then the elders who gave you this responsibility were fools.  Best I kick the dust of this place from my feet when I leave here."

Just then, Lekar poked his head into the room.  He cleared his throat to catch everyone's attention.  Robertasin figured the hare ignored the sight of her lying on the floor since he didn't ask any questions.  Instead, he called out to Healer Shortspike as if she were the room's only occupant.

"I say old girl, it seems our lady badger is about to awaken.  Did you intend to watch the bonding?"

Shortspike turned her head towards the doorway, her arms dropping to her side.  Nurse Boteza reached down and snatched the dress left over a chair earlier.  As the elderly squirrel helped the hedgehog into her garment, Robertasin could hear the Healer's muttered response.

"Nothing short of my own death would keep me from seeing that." 

Shortspike approached her assistant who still stood in the doorway.  The hedgehog turned to Henrietta.

"I'm sure Tassel would welcome your company.  If you want to come, do so, but be quiet.  So long as that badger lives, I intend doing whatever is necessary to keep her that way.  If I can awaken her will to live, there is a chance.  Slim it might be, but I will grasp it like a drowning beast does a floating log."

Robertasin climbed back to her feet, leaning against the wall.  She rubbed her jaw, grateful that all her teeth remained.  The others preceded the Healer as they left the room.  Before the hedgehog closed the door, she addressed her once more.  This time, Shortspike's voice held no deference for her position.

"I suggest you give a lot of thought to what I said.  You're the Mother Abbot, not some spiteful dibbun upset about losing her favorite toy."

[cairn destop]

Chapter Seven
Two Missions Continue

The wildcat kitten held a switch.  She tapped the tip of his nose with enough force to sting, but not hard enough to draw blood.  "I'm going to teach you obedience, squirrel.  It will be a very painful lesson for you, which will make it all the more enjoyable for me."

The switch descended in a vicious arc and he dodged left.  The kitten hissed, demanding he not move.  Chitter ran down the hallway, his feet slipping on the waxed flooring.  The kitten raced behind him.  He darted around a corner; she blocked his path.  Chitter clawed at the canvas tent, but the soft soil beneath his feet shifted.  He fell at the kitten's feet.  The switch cut the air as she roared in triumph.

Chitter's eyes opened as he sought some avenue of escape.  His heart raced.  He gasped.  The hallway of his first master vanished, as did the tent belonging to the kitten.  Only the memory of the dream remained.  He tried relaxing, grateful the nightmare had ended.

A loud snarl sounded by his ear.  Chitter went rigid.  His eyes searched for the source of the sound, wondering what he had done wrong.  Just as he convinced himself the sound belonged to his dream, the snarl repeated itself.  It came from the slumbering badger.

Not wishing to disturb his master, Chitter crawled out of the bedroll.  Last night's fire had died and the sun remained below the horizon.  Mother once told him a servant should always be busy, that a master is happiest when a slave anticipates his needs.  He did not want such a powerful monster angry with him.

He approached the dead fire and piled whatever wood remained onto the ashes.  Chitter felt a slight warming, but no flame.  Mother often used bellows to fan coals in a dead oven back to life.  He knelt by the campfire and blew with all his might.  On the third try, a tiny flame appeared.

With no more wood, Chitter entered the surrounding forest.  He gathered deadfall, glad he didn't have to wander too far.  He started back with a heavy load of wood.  His leg hurt.  The pain grew more intense.  He dropped the firewood, grabbing the metal cuff.  Chitter howled.

xxxxx

Bruno's eyes popped open when something disturbed his sleep.  A cry of pain had him throw back his blanket.  He perceived everything in an instant.  The campfire blazed.  A metal chain rested in the fire.  Near the trees, Chitter rolled on the ground, his paws clawing at his shackled leg.

One paw reached down and grabbed a canteen while he kicked the chain away from the flame.  He raced over to the kit squirrel.  His paw slammed onto Chitter's chest, pinning him to the ground.  Bruno knelt across Chitter's legs, keeping them immobile.  He poured the canteen's water onto the metal cuff.

With the danger averted, Bruno scooped up the squirrel.  He held him, cooing in his ear as he assured him all was fine.  The evidence spoke volumes.  Chitter wanted to surprise him by proving his worth.  Somehow, he got the fire restarted.  When he went to the woods, he forgot to watch his chain.  A dumb mistake, one any child could make.  Bruno offered the squirrel a few words of praise, which stopped his tears.

After a hasty meal, Bruno returned to the stream to refill his canteens and to tend to the dirty pans.  He kept a wary eye out for any pike that might consider one of his fingers a fat worm as he scrubbed.  Bruno set everything on the grass to dry.

Behind him, he heard a series of grunts.  Looking over his shoulder, Bruno watched Chitter dart about the bedding as he tried folding it.  The squirrel would yank one side, run to the other in an attempt to keep it straight as he tried folding it into a smaller package.  Bruno almost laughed at his inept efforts since the bankroll kept defeating the small child.

When he approached, Chitter took one look at the bedroll and retreated as far as his chain allowed.  His tail dipped and his eyes focused on the ground.  Each time Chitter glanced at him, his lips trembled and tears hung unshed.  Bruno ignored the squirrel as he unrolled the blanket. 

Finished, he called Chitter closer and, with his guidance, had the kit squirrel do the task.  Bruno had the squirrel unroll it and do it again.  On the third try, he said nothing as Chitter attacked the blankets.  The young squirrel stood behind the bedroll like a soldier awaiting inspection.  Bruno tightened the cinches and complimented his efforts.  Seeing the squirrel smile was its own reward.

The two followed the trail Chitter forged earlier.  When they crossed the stream, Bruno had to keep his paw on Chitter's back as he whimpered whenever a fish swam into view.  He held the squirrel's chain and the trip proved easy, though Bruno hoped nobody from the ship Chitter mentioned were nearby.  The kit squirrel kept talking about anything and everything that came to his young mind.

By late afternoon, Chitter pointed to the tree where his mother hid him.  Bruno dropped his backpack and removed his broadsword, holding it with ease in one paw.  Chitter took the dropped backpack as a signal to unpack the bedroll.  A hasty order to the squirrel and his fearful look assured Bruno he wouldn't stray.  He continued down the trail.

Stars filled the sky by the time Bruno returned.  He approached the camp feeling depressed.  Even the evidence that Chitter arranged the blankets and gathered firewood did not register on him.  Bruno emptied his pockets, staring at the apples he found earlier.  He leaned his sword against a nearby tree and climbed into his bedroll without lighting the fire. 

Just before Bruno drifted off, he remembered the squirrel.  A hasty invite and the squirrel snuggled close to him.  Sleep came fast to Bruno, but not the peace he wanted.

* * *

Shortspike strolled into the operating room.  She approached her sleeping patient, pleased to see one of her assistants had placed a sheet over the female badger.  Her fingers confirmed the material as water repellant, something needed for the bonding.

Within her mind, she ticked off each beast.  Her young assistant, a mouse named Tanar, stored a mop and pail in the room's closet.  Nurse Boteza and Lekar maintained their professional demeanors while standing close to her.  Henrietta's look reminded her of a woodsman who found herself on a sea voyage.

She checked her patient by running her paw over the female badger's body beneath the sheet.  A new leather strap ran across the patient's chest.  The metal shackles that bound wrist and ankle now had the feel of cloth.  Her paw lingered on the patient's belly, please she felt nothing wet.

Shortspike approached her two apprentices.  She gave a quick glance over her shoulder at her patient.  Tassel still slept.

"What you are about to see is the most beautiful thing anyone who calls themselves a healer ever witnesses.  Lekar, I know you have seen this before so I expect you to watch Tanar as this is her first time."

She returned to her patient and inspected the two bassinets.  Both newborns remained wet, thanks to a nearby atomizer.  One of them remembered to split the birth sac.  This provided an opening for the baby's muzzle to remain unobstructed.  Such attention to details would earn her two assistants praise.

Shortspike approached the sleeping badger.  With a gentle touch, she shook her.  Tassel's eyes fluttered open.  Healer Shortspike stepped back and rocked the two bassinets.  One pup whined while the other gave a soft gurgling sound.

That brought the badger to full alertness.  Tassel turned her head towards the sound.  The badger tried to rise.  The badger panicked as she struggled to free herself.

Her paw grasped Tassel's muzzle, keeping it immobile.  Healer Shortspike made direct eye contact with her patient.  She spoke in a voice that allowed no discussion.  She hoped a speech habit from her dibbun days might penetrate Tassel's panic.

"You have been gravely injured and you must do what I say.  Do you understand me, you silly badger?" 

Tassel resisted and continued her struggles.  The female badger must have recognized the futility of her efforts after a few moments since she stopped.  Tassel's woe-begotten expression should have melted even the coldest heart, but not a trained healer.

Shortspike removed the restraints.  She called for the backrest, motioning the nurse closer.   It took some effort, but they got it into position.  Now the badger sat upright. 

"Your birthing proved a lot more difficult than anticipated," Shortspike said.  "Promise to do as directed, when you are told, without hesitation, and this will go well for you."

Tassel nodded.  Healer Shortspike pointed to the two bassinets.  Tassel tried peering over the rim without success.  The badger asked for both and Shortspike did not move.  When one of the pups yawned, Tassel pointed to that pup.

After placing the bassinet by the bed, Shortspike lifted the shape and placed the sodden mass into Tassel's arms.  The baby gave another yawn and the badger attacked the sac with tooth and claw.  As it tore, blood washed over her muzzle.  Shortspike detected the coppery smell of blood.

In what appeared to be madness, the badger licked her baby.  Tassel continued licking the baby's fur clean of blood.  The badger held the newborn baby in the palm of her one paw.  The sow pup gave a soft yip.  Tassel's muzzle touched the baby's abdomen.

Just as Healer Shortspike expected, Tanar charged forward, no doubt believing the baby in danger.  The hare Lekar caught the mouse.  He held her shoulders, immobilizing her.  Shortspike approached her young assistant. 

"Easy Tanar, what you are witnessing is the bonding.  They exchange breath and forever more, a bond will exist that can never be broken.  Healers witness this wondrous event many times.  It's why we are healers, to welcome new life into this world."

Just as fast, the bonding ended.  Mother and daughter stayed in that pose, nose to nose.  Shortspike removed the child and returned her to the bassinet.  Never did Tassel's eyes stray from the small form.

It took a gentle nudge and Tassel found herself holding another shapeless bundle.  The female badger repeated the same ritual with her newborn son.  When the Healer called for the baby, Tassel balked.  A noisy yawn from the sow pup distracted her.  Shortspike placed the second child in its bassinet.

While Tassel gazed on her two newborn pups, Shortspike joined her two assistants.  She gave a gentle rub to the mouse's shoulder and leaned closer.  She asked Tanar her impression, pleased by the note of awe in the mouse's voice. 

It took a quick glance in the nurse's direction to have the squirrel approach Tassel.  As for the badger, she did not react to her presence until she blocked her view of the newborns.  Nurse Boteza lifted the baby sow and cradled her.  Tassel's eyes followed the old grey squirrel as she came towards her. 

"It is time I teach you the proper way to suckle your young.  With two, the task will be hard and there will be times you might need to bottle-feed these two.  Are you ready to give your daughter her first meal?"

Tassel fumbled a bit with her new child.  Shortspike noted how anxiety and anticipation flashed across her face.  She knew a new mother feared holding too tight or too loose, which is why the nurse attended every birth.  She understood how scared Tassel must feel this first time.

Things progressed well with the girl.  Tassel then fed her new son.  When she burped him, he spat up a great deal of the milk.  Nurse Boteza cleaned his mouth out and returned the boar pup to his bassinet.  Though Tassel's expression showed her concern, the nurse remained calm.  With the first feeding done, the nurse wheeled the bassinets out of the room.  Nurse Boteza assured Tassel she would return the pups in time for their next meal.

Shortspike gave a light rattle of her quills, which caught Henrietta's attention.  A wave of her paw, and the vole approached Tassel.  Shortspike moved to the doorway and hoped Henrietta understood the subtle hint.

"Now you just rest for a while, Tassel.  Don't you even worry about those youngsters you watch.  They have been perfect little angels."

Tassel responded in a voice groggy.  "What you mean is that all my charges fell asleep.  It's the only time those little hellions are perfect angels and you know it."

Henrietta patted Tassel's arm.  "Liar.  So what should I tell them?  They deserve some news from their Mother T."

"Tell them how much I miss them.  I would love having them here tomorrow when I feel more like myself."

The vole gave Tassel's arm a squeeze and left the room.  "I will allow but two at any one time and only for a short visit.  You need your rest, Tassel.  I will see if Nurse Boteza will allow everyone a view of the pups."

The vole passed Shortspike as she exited the room.  Healer Shortspike approached her patient, but remained silent.  The badger had fallen into a deep sleep in the short time it took her to approach.  She replaced the dressing on her wound before she motioned her two assistants closer.

"Both of you made me very proud tonight.  If I sounded brisk or harsh, it was my concern for our patient.  Lekar, move Tassel to Recovery while Tanar cleans this mess.  When you finish your assignment, find an empty cot and get some sleep.  Consider that an order."

She waited until the hare rolled the gurney out of the room and supervised the cleaning.  Just as the mouse finished, the hare returned.  Together, the two assistants shuffled out of the room.  Shortspike stretched out the kinks in her back.  She then tried stifling a series of yawns without success.  In spite of her exhaustion, she walked over to her writing desk.

Shortspike removed quill, ink, paper, and a large ledger.  She dipped the quill into the ink and inscribed the words every healer enjoyed writing.  The Healer wrote out two copies of each birth certificate, pleased her older assistant remembered to record the vital statistics. 

She leaned over her desk and verified the information.  The documents did lack one vital detail, the pup's name.  Such things could wait until the naming ceremony, which usually happened within five days.  With Bruno's absence, it might be a day or two longer.  Once they had names, she could get the documents stamped by the Mother Abbot.

Her final act, she inscribed a shorten version within the official medical journal.  With most births, this completed her duty.  Her paw reached into the desk and removed one more page for each pup.  She wrote out the document no healer ever enjoyed, a death certificate.  She left the form blank, but kept it on her desk.

An unexpected paw tapped her on the shoulder.  Shortspike jumped.  When her heart stopped racing, she turned on her intruder.  Nurse Boteza return from the nursery surprised her.  Shortspike felt like slapping the wide smile off the squirrel's face.  She saw no reason for such happiness.

"Good news seems to be in short supply," said the squirrel.  "When I first handed those two pups to Tassel, I felt their stomachs.  After they fed, I knew they had their fill.  If they continue feeding and hold their food over the next twenty-four hours, there's an excellent chance both will survive."

Healer Shortspike smiled.  She reached over and ripped the death certificates until nothing remained.  "Then I will return the favor.  I changed Tassel's bandages before sending her to Recovery.  She is still losing blood, but it's slowing down.  Tassel might survive her surgery."

"It must be a great feeling knowing everyone will live."

"When I traveled to that badger clan to complete my medical training, our former healer told me to never return.  Redwall's residents might not separate the child that left from the healer that returned.  I ignored his advice, and now I feel like a fool."

"You're an excellent healer, Shortspike.  What makes you say that?"

She tried covering another yawn.  "Telling somebody I knew as a mother that I spayed her will not be pleasant.  I could still lose her if she cannot handle such news.  However, I can do that after a long night's sleep."

Shortspike circled the outer walls of the Operating Room, extinguishing each lamp.  She closed the door and joined her companion.  Nurse Boteza escorted her to her private quarters.  The last thing Shortspike did before sleep claimed her was to toss the shredded death certificates into her fireplace.

[cairn destop]

Chapter Eight
Warrior's Departure

Foremole patrolled his sector of the battlement near the Main Gate while conversing with the Captain of the Guards.  As he gazed westward, he felt the new day warming his back.  He looked forward to some time with his family when his shift ended.  His companion disturbed the morning quiet with a shout as he leaned over the parapet.

"Two runners coming from the north," said Karteel.  "They must be in a bloody hurry to get here."

His eyes followed the brown squirrel's finger.  "Captain, I think one of them looks like our blacksmith, Egress.  No other beast is that massive.  The one next to him is Dale, though I might be mistaken.  It's been almost a year since last I saw him."

"Foremole, get the gate open.  I'll alert the Mother Abbot."

Both rushed to the doorway.  Foremole reached the stairway first since he was closest.  He raced down the tower's narrow stairs.  Captain Karteel displayed the agility of his kind by darting by him on a strip of stone less than a paw's width while leaning over an abyss that would frighten any sane beast.  Once the squirrel passed him, Captain Karteel increased his speed by leaping down three or four steps with every bound.

"If I go even half that fast, I'll break my bloody neck," he muttered.  "At least I'm not going as far."

Once clear of the tower, Foremole turned towards the main gate.  He did not hesitate at the door.  Using his momentum, he burst into the gatekeeper's office.  A startled hedgehog tumbled onto the floor.  Such a rude intrusion explained the fellow's less than genial greeting and the inappropriate language.  The gatekeeper stood, his paw rubbing the back of his head.

"I must say, sir, what's with all this rushing about?  We don't open the gates for another hour."  His paws went up when Foremole tried speaking.  "Slow down, sir, I cannot understand a word you're saying."

"I said we have runners approaching, and I don't think they came for breakfast.  So how about you rattle those spikes of yours and get the gate open before whatever is chasing them gets here."

The hedgehog waddled out the door, yelling instructions to his crew.  A gang of six hedgehogs tumbled out of the nearby barracks.  Foremole wondered how such a disorganized mob functioned as they ran all about like dibbuns playing a game.  He almost demanded more speed when the porticos rose with a squeal of metal.  The inner gate swung open and the hedgehogs charged down the passageway.

Foremole followed, but the other members of the gate crew outpaced him.  Hinges protested, but the outer gate parted.  By the time he reached the front gate, the doors stood less than a quarter of the way open.  The hedgehogs pushing the doors wider grunted with the effort.  As the opening expanded, the path leading to the main road showed.

The gate crew blocked his view of the road until they pushed the doors halfway open.  He never saw the runners until they darted inside.  They almost bowled him and the gate crew aside in their haste.  Neither one said a word of apology or greeting as they crossed the Abbey's threshold.  Foremole had just enough time to dodge out of their way.  In that brief instant, he confirmed his initial observation.  The two hedgehogs were Egress and Dale.  Foremole raced after the pair, wondering what terror kept them running.

xxxxx

Captain Karteel outdistanced Foremole on the tower's winding stairs.  A glance upward showed the mole had yet to clear a third of the steps.  When he reached the bottom of the winding staircase, he continued through the open door. 

A dozen paces short of the Abbey's main entrance, he spotted a female shrew with a laundry basket.  Instead of a friendly greeting, he growled at her like a drill sergeant with a raw recruit.  The startled shrew stood there, her laundry basket resting against her hip.  Karteel repeated his order to find the Abbey's champion.  She must have detected the urgency in his voice as she dropped her basket and ran in the appropriate direction.

Karteel bolted through the Grand Foyer, taking the most direct route to Cavern Hole.  His eyes scanned the many residents enjoying an early breakfast.  He did not see the Mother Abbot at her accustomed seat.  Karteel retraced his path and charged up the marble stairs to the second floor.  The squirrel never hesitated when he reached the hallway leading to the Mother Abbot's private quarters, passing the guard posted there.

He crashed through the door, shouting for the Mother Abbot.  Once inside, he tried to regain his breath after such a long sprint.  He ignored the chairs and came to parade rest as he waited for the black squirrel's appearance.

The Mother Abbot came out of the adjacent room wearing nothing more than a nightshirt.  As she stomped into the main room, he noticed the female squirrel's less than friendly mood.  She confirmed his assessment of her attitude when she approached him, her green eyes full of fire.  Robertasin's shout matched his in volume.

"By all the demons of Hellsgate, this had better be important!  First time I get a chance at a proper night's sleep and you come running by like some crazed lunatic."

"Sorry, Mother Abbot, I didn't know.  You want me ...."

"You're sorry?  Between two days on my paws and that filthy badger sow giving birth, I finally get to close my eyes and you ...." 

Captain Karteel held his position.  The Mother Abbot stopped speaking, her last thought hanging there unfinished.  She rubbed her temples with the palm of her paws.  She then dropped her arms to her side and took a calming breath.  Instead of anger, Karteel detected a voice still groggy from a lack of sleep.

"Too many cobwebs in the old noggin, I suppose.  It's not your fault and it must be an emergency if you had to barge into my quarters.  Give me a moment to dress.  While I do that, tell me what is going on that needs my immediate attention."

Grateful for the change in tone, Captain Karteel explained his rude entrance.  The Mother Abbot asked a few questions from her quarters, which he answered as best he could.  Karteel enunciated what steps he took prior to his arrival.  She extended her appreciation for his efficiency.

When the Mother Abbot reappeared, she wore the attire of a simple farmer, though her fur could still use a good brushing.  She fastened the last button on her blouse as she crossed the room.  Her paw snagged the green habit Redwall's leader always wore as she left her room without a backward glance.

He kept two steps back as he followed her through the Abbey.  The gathered residents parted, allowing both of them a clear path to the courtyard.  As he passed the main doors, the residents trailed behind them.

The Mother Abbot nodded a greeting to Jazzin, Redwall's champion warrior.  He returned her quick greeting and then gave the captain a quizzical look.  Captain Karteel pointed to the central fountain where a crowd had gathered.  The three maintained a fast pace, but preserved their dignity by not running.

Captain Karteel noticed the two winded hedgehogs lying prostrate on the cobblestones.  Frothy foam coated their muzzles as they gasped for breath.  One word from the Mother Abbot and both tried telling their tale first.  The news they carried explained their urgency.  Slavers had returned to the area known as North Forest, and everything they found indicated they were heading south.

"Jazzin," said the Mother Abbot, "how many warriors do you want and how soon can you depart?"

"Until we know what we're up against, best plan I can envision is one with twenty to thirty warriors who can move fast.  I want to send runners to alert any of the villages in danger of attack.  Protecting them should be our first priority."

"That will leave a lot of disappointed beasts.  I'm concerned you might be underestimating our enemy's numbers.  Will so few be enough?"

Jazzin bowed to the Mother Abbot.  "I know there isn't an elder within these walls that will not fight if it becomes necessary, but speed is more important right now."

"That answers the first part of my question.  Now tell me how long it will take to mobilize."

The mouse hesitated; one finger flicked his whiskers as he stared into the morning sky.  "Perhaps two or three hours at most, our force can move fast since there will be no danger until we find Bruno.  I'll send a messenger back if we need more fighters."

"Do whatever you must."  The Mother Abbot faced him.  "Captain Karteel, I want you to accompany our champion.  Your expertise as a soldier will prove invaluable if it comes down to a battle.  Assemble the warriors you need and do whatever you must to stop those slavers."

"Any other orders, Mother Abbot," asked Jazzin.

"Delay the slavers.  As you said, our first priority is protecting the villages between them and us.  Do what you can to protect any captives, but take no unnecessary risks until you have sufficient numbers."

Both hedgehogs spoke as one.  They wheezed their offer to accompany the warriors.  Each claimed a better knowledge of the region.  Both said they knew where to find Bruno.  They tried standing, but fell onto their knees.

Captain Karteel patted the two exhausted hedgehogs on their head.  "Each of you has done more to assure our victory than any warrior we take.  Stay here and rest, you did your duty.  Now we must do ours."

He excused himself and trotted back to the Abbey.  Once inside, he hastened to Cavern Hole.  Last time there, he recognized several warriors he wanted on this mission.  Luck was with him as they remained inside, enjoying their meal.  A few words with them and the selected beasts ran from the hall.

As Karteel left, residents who learned of the upcoming mission tugged at his sleeve, asking if they could accompany him.  He found it hard denying these enthusiastic creatures such an opportunity, but emphasized the need for trained fighters that could move fast.  He did offer many a chance to join his force once they knew the enemy's strength, which placated them.

Jettadoe, a male woodchuck leaned against the archway.  As he approached, Jettadoe moved in front of him.  Karteel thought fast.  He did not want a dibbun, even if he were now sixteen winters, accompanying him.  The woodchuck showed too much talent making pots to waste on the battlefield.

"I'm sorry, my friend, but there is no need for additional warriors.  We can, however, always use another pair of sharp eyes on our parapets."

The woodchuck laughed.  "Tassel requested your presence.  She said it was urgent she speak with you."

Everyone knew she came to term yesterday, so he knew where she would be.  It took no effort finding her room in the Infirmary.  The excited voices of several dibbuns discussing the upcoming encounter led him to Tassel's room.  When he entered, she ordered everyone out, which had several complaining.  Tassel's emphasized the order and even the most reluctant child departed.  He didn't have to ask, the badger explained her reasons for summoning him without wasting his precious time.

"Everyone sees this like a grand adventure.  We know different, Captain."

Karteel remembered the skirmish others labeled the Battle of the Flying Fox.  They lost several good residents as well as a number of hostages.  Others called it a glorious victory, but those who fought that day remembered the terror and the bloodshed.

"Woodlander justice is called harsh and I know better than any just how unforgiving it can be.  Still, I want your word that every slaver will die.  Promise me you'll give no quarter."

Karteel laughed.  "That is one promise I can guarantee.  I doubt anyone will be feeling generous once blades are crossed."

"There are nights when I relive that fight, trying to change the final outcome.  I keep wondering if I could save the ones we lost.  Maybe I could be faster helping one, or slower leaving another.  My choices haunt me to this day.  As a warrior, you know about acceptable losses."

"You have my word as an officer, Badgermom.  Until we engage in battle, I promise to do all I can to save as many of their captives as possible."

Captain Karteel turned, but hesitated a moment when Tassel called him to her side.

"There is one more promise I would ask of you, one of a more personal nature."

[cairn destop]

Chapter Nine
Returning Home

The dream returned.  Once again, Chitter felt the fear it generated.  He closed his eyes, trying to rest.  Chitter snuggled closer to the sleeping badger and drifted back to sleep.  He opened his eyes a second time and found his master missing.  Somehow, his master awoke before he did.

"Another bad dream, Chitter," Bruno asked.

He turned in place, searching for the voice.  His new master stood at the opposite end of the clearing.  The huge monster had his back to him as he stared at the hole where his mother put him several days back.

"We have plenty of firewood if you will start the fire, Master.  If you show me how to tend it, I'll care for it."

"I have got to teach you the proper way to address an elder."  Bruno now faced him, a serious expression on his face.

Those words frightened him.  He backpedaled so fast he tripped over the bedding.  Chitter retreated until his back felt the bark of a sturdy tree.  He pulled his legs closer and wrapped his arms around them.  His chin rested on his knees.  He close his eyes and awaited the pain he knew accompanied every lesson.

Something touched his ear and he recoiled.  His head hit the tree and it hurt.  He did not open his eyes as he anticipated the next blow.  Time passed and nothing happened.  Chitter risked a quick peek.

Bruno sat next to him, his back against the same tree.  A friendly giant replaced the monster he first imagined.  When the badger smiled, Chitter broke down and cried.  He couldn't decide if he did so in fear or relief.  A massive paw pulled him closer.  They sat like this for several moments while he gave in to his tears.

"If it comforts you calling me master, do so.  There will be time enough to learn."

Chitter's mind reviewed every honorific title he remembered.  He fixated on the one he thought elevated his master over all others.  "Lord Bruno is not angry?"

"You woke me three times last night with your nightmares.  If you want those dreams to stop, tell me everything and they will go away."

Chitter didn't want to, but his mother's instructions about absolute obedience to his master compelled him.  Once he started, his tendency to talk did the rest.  He spoke of the wildcat kitten and her abuse.  Nothing he ever did pleased her, which always resulted in some form of abuse.  The words ended, but not his fear.

"The kitten is gone; she cannot hurt you," said Bruno.

When the badger stood, Chitter did too.  Then he remembered the unpacked bedding.  He rushed over to the blankets, arranging everything the way Bruno taught him.  Chitter worried he did it wrong, but that fear disappeared when the badger praised his efforts.  His master appreciated his work, which had him standing proud.

Bruno asked for his chain.  With his master carrying it, Chitter found the walk enjoyable.  Sometimes Bruno rubbed his shoulder or patted his head, just as Mother did whenever they were alone.  He missed her and though he walked with a light step, his heart remained heavy.

When Bruno called a halt, he didn't realize he had crossed the shark-infested waters.  For once, he remained silent while he tried to reconcile the contradictions he experienced.  He thought any master exercised his authority with a heavy paw.  He knew Lord Bruno had power and strength, yet he treated him with kindness. 

While he gathered firewood, Lord Bruno disappeared in the woods.  When he returned, his pockets bulged with edible treasures.  Chitter's mouth watered in anticipation as his master prepared a meal of crushed acorns, apples, berries, and roots.  By the time they finished, nothing remained but a contented feeling.  Chitter found it far better than begging for scraps.

They walked through the forest at a slow pace.  Whenever he asked Lord Bruno for a short rest, he complied.  Chitter liked his new master, which made him even more determined to please him. 

Chitter expected them to stop with nightfall.  Instead, Lord Bruno insisted they continue walking.  Shadows lengthened as the darkness increased.  Now he saw nothing beyond a dozen paces, and still they maintained a steady pace through the forest.

His world consisted of shadows.  At the next bend in the trail, a row of distant fires appeared.  At each of these, forms moved.  Bruno never hesitated; he left the safety of the forest for the open field.  Since Bruno held his chain, Chitter had no choice.  He kept close to the badger's side.

"Who leads," shouted Bruno.

"Welcome, Bruno," said one of the many forms standing near a campfire.  "Mind explaining why you went north when the slavers are going south."

"There are no slavers, Jazzin.  All I found is this fellow," said Bruno.

They approached the nearest fire.  Chitter found himself standing before a group of armed creatures.  He relaxed when everyone exchanged greetings with his master.  The other woodlanders gathered closer.  Several hedgehogs, squirrels and even a mole vied for Bruno's attention.

Since his master talked, Chitter tried keeping quiet.  His efforts lasted until a female hedgehog rubbed his back and cooed in his ear.  Like a dam bursting, he tried answering all the questions posed to Lord Bruno.  Then he spotted several backpacks with the blankets still cinched, he dodged around the crowd while the chain spooled out of the badger's paws.

Two of the females supervised his efforts.  When he finished, they each gave him a motherly peck on the cheek.  Chitter stood there embarrassed, his foot kicking the dirt, not quite sure what he should do.  Bruno called and he came back with as much of an enthusiastic bounce as his chain permitted.

"I take it there's a story behind this fellow," said the mouse Bruno called Jazzin.

The badger recounted his tale to a mesmerized crowd.  Chitter often interrupted the story, which his master allowed.  He enjoyed the freedom to speak with these creatures.  They even listened to him before they prompted the badger to continue.

Someone posed a question Bruno didn't answer and that he didn't know.  In the silence that followed, his master asked if one of the others would carry his chain to the next fire where he could fix the bedrolls.  A female hedgehog relieved Bruno of the chain and Chitter followed where she led.

xxxxx

Jazzin watched the young squirrel arrange the bedrolls at the next fire.  "Alright Bruno, that kit cannot hear anything we say.  Tell us what happened." 

"I went forward being as cautious as possible since I anticipated finding an entire crew of vermin.  I searched the woods like a stalking hunter least they surprise me.  One moment I'm in the forest and the next, I'm standing by a river with a swamp on one side and a muddy trail leading to the ocean on the other.  I figured nobody camps in a swamp, so I turned downriver."

"Don't keep us in suspense, Bruno.  What did you find?"

"The muddy forest path turned into a wide sandy beach.  From the signs around the shore, a ship departed a day or two ago."

"Maybe we could find out where it came from or its destination if we all search the area."  Jazzin's comment had everyone nodding.

"Don't bother; it would be a waste of time.  Their Captain left the campsite spotless.  I searched several of the trash pits, but found only ashes."

"So I take it the boy's mother is dead," said Foremole.  "I remember how ruthless slavers can be to any beast that tries to escape."

"She must be alive.  I found no grave," said Bruno, "which is comforting.  It means they took Chitter's mother.  He probably knows she's gone, but best we give him time accepting that fact."

Jazzin ran his paw across the sheathed Sword of Martin.  His voice betrayed his disappointment and anger at their failed rescue attempt.

"That boy's mother worked too hard and sacrificed too much freeing her son to have him pine away in sorrow.  Best we get Chitter settled in his new home as soon as possible."

Bruno agreed with the Abbey's champion.  "Keep an eye on him while I retrieve my cart.  Since we missed the slavers, I may as well transport those tree seedlings back to Redwall."

He found the cart untouched where he hid it.  His paw checked the pots and found the soil dry, but acceptable.  It took a few moments pulling the cart beyond the trees, but once clear of the roots, he found it easy to move.  Bruno dropped the trace once he got his wagon within the circle of light cast by the nearest campfire.

Upon his return, the female hedgehog that took Chitter, approached.  Bruno thought her expression that of someone who bit into something very sour, which made him wonder if Chitter did something inappropriate.  One look at the kit squirrel refuted his concerns since he looked at him without flinching.  She placed her paw on the child's shoulder, placing herself between him and the kit squirrel.

"This little one has been asking me what is going to happen to him.  He wants to know how Lord Bruno will treat his new slave.  I don't have the nerve to tell him about your mate and thought it best he hear about her from some beast he trusts."

He beckoned Chitter closer, Bruno dropped to one knee so he could meet the kit squirrel's eyes.  "My wife, Tassel, will be caring for you, Chitter.  She is a badger just like me but a bit shorter.  Sometimes she seems mean, but she is very nice."

Chitter wanted to know what she looked like.  In response, Bruno stood, spread his legs a bit apart, and thrust his belly way forward.  Waddling towards the boy, he reached his paws forward and spoke in a high-pitched voice.  "I told you one candy stick, not the entire jar.  Now get over here boy."

"If Tassel saw that, she'd box your ears," Captain Karteel said.  "You need to change a few things if you want your imitation to be accurate.  Try standing straight, and keep your legs closer."

It took a few seconds for the words to penetrate his tired mind.  Bruno grabbed Karteel by his shoulders.  "When?"

"It happened the night before your two friends scared every resident with news about slavers.  Before you ask the next question, everyone has taken an oath to say nothing more.  You'll have to wait until we reach home."

Tassel had come to term early, and everyone but him knew if he had a son or daughter.  He insisted they break camp, but nobody made a move to comply.  He threatened to run off without them.  Jazzin reminded him of the seedlings, which he ignored.  Captain Karteel pointed to the kit squirrel, which had him hesitate.

"At this point, there is no hurry," said Captain Karteel.  "The trip will take more than a day regardless of when we leave.  If we break camp in the morning, we should arrive near noon."

Bruno thought he could never sleep.  A glance upward proved him wrong.  The starry sky he remembered had morphed into dawn.  He slept so deep that the camp enjoying a quiet morning meal never disturbed him.  Chitter sat with the female hedgehog from last night, enjoying his food.  Bruno rushed to the fire, grabbed his share, and gulped it down.

Captain Karteel dashed the dregs of his drink into the fire.  He followed Bruno back to the campfire where he slept.  The squirrel reached Bruno just as he finished fixing his backpack.

"Everyone will be ready within the next ten minutes," said the Captain.  "My only concern is that squirrel.  We cannot remove his chain, which means somebody has to carry it.  You're strong and can cover a long distance but none of us could move as fast while lugging his chain.  So how do you propose we move at your speed without losing him?"

Bruno strolled over to the fire where Chitter sat.  Without a word spoken, he lifted the chain and returned to the cart.  Chitter jogged after him.  When they reached the cart, he secured the chain to the right side rail with a length of twine.

"Problem solved," said Bruno.  "I pull the cart and he follows.  Now break camp and let's get moving; we're wasting daylight."

The woodlanders prepared for departure.  One by one, the other beasts placed their packs into the cart with the tree seedlings.  Bruno slipped into the harness, grasped the traces, and lifted.  With a screech of protest, the wheels moved.  He walked next to Jazzin as they proceeded home.

Bruno kept his eyes focused on Jazzin.  A simple nod from the warrior mouse let him know his young companion now rode in the cart.  He increased his pace to a fast jog that he could maintain until nightfall.

"You better be in good condition, Chitter, as I intend going very fast."

"I can keep up with you, Lord."

Bruno suppressed a laugh since he knew the young kit now rode in the back of the cart he pulled.  With everyone unencumbered, all kept pace with the eager badger.

[cairn destop]

Chapter Ten
Cutting the Bond

"Just over those trees you'll catch a glimpse of your new home, Chitter.  We should be there by midday," said Bruno.

Chitter's eyes followed where the badger pointed.  Either he missed the place, or the trees hid it from his view.  The cart bounced across the dirt path, which led them away from his master's stated destination.  Chitter searched the horizon, but he saw nothing beyond the autumn leaves and the other woodlanders that jogged behind the cart.

That first day, a female hedgehog helped him into the cart before the badger raced across the countryside.  When they stopped for the night, she carried his chain as he raced from the cart to the fires.  One by one, he relayed the warrior's backpacks and unrolled their blankets.  At dinner, the elders invited him to their fire where they talked nonstop about his new home.

His anxiety and anticipation made the wait a long one.  Again, the cart made a turn as it followed the trail.  Then he saw it.  Never had he seen such a massive structure.  As they cleared the last tree, bells rang.  The rumble of a wooden bridge overrode the many greetings shouted by the field workers they passed.  Bruno and the warriors raced to the open gateway.

The badger slowed the cart as they entered a wide cobblestoned courtyard.  Chitter turned in place, looking at his new home.  He wondered if the building with the many young faces peering out was the school Foremole told him about last night.

Bruno helped him out of the cart.  As he regained his footing, a female squirrel dressed in green approached.  Every beast she passed bowed.  The female squirrel marched up to Lord Bruno, who also bowed his head.

"Welcome back, Bruno.  Whatever happened to the slavers?"

"It's a long story, Mother Abbot, but there are no slavers, just this one kit squirrel."

The black-furred female glanced at him, and then faced the other returning warriors.  When she spoke, they gave her their undivided attention. 

"Captain Karteel, send out runners to the villages we warned yesterday.  Let them know the danger has passed."

Bruno touched the black squirrel's shoulder.  "Mother Abbot, how is my wife?"

"She's fine, Bruno.  Our Healer released her when the bells announced your return.  No doubt she is on her way here."

Bruno almost jogged towards one of the buildings.  Since the badger still held his chain, Chitter had no choice.  He kept close to his master's side.   Bruno called out the name of his mate.  Chitter didn't see the badger that answered, but could hear the slap of sandals from somewhere above him.

"If you're back, husband, then there should be lots of freed slaves with you.  Let me hear of your victory and greet our new friends."

The marble stairs ended at a landing at the upper floor.  The female badger reached the landing and now faced the doorway.  Chitter found her attired in a light green dress bordered with white lace.  She wore stockings of the same color topped with white that accentuated her natural black fur.  Fingerless gloves covered her paws, leaving only her upper arms exposed.

Chitter felt confused by this beast.  Unlike those he met earlier, this one wore a mask that hid her features.  Only her deep brown eyes and two triangular black ears remained exposed.

As the creature approached, Bruno reached over and embraced her.  He gave the masked beast a firm, but gentle hug.  When they stood together, Chitter noticed another oddity about the female.  Unlike Bruno, she had no tail.

"You have news for me, Tassel?" 

Her open palm slap to Bruno's chest carried no power.  "Don't change the subject.  I expected my husband leading a whole village of freed slaves back here.  Instead, you bring one chained child." 

Bruno retold the story of their meeting.  It sounded funny when Bruno described his reaction.  He then expressed his deep concern for the other captive slaves.  Bruno hastened through their journey homeward.  Whenever he could, Lord Bruno complimented Chitter regarding his behavior.

"It's a disappointment that only this one dibbun escaped, husband."

"He'll be a fine addition to our gaggle of little beasties."  Bruno ruffled the fur on Chitter's head.  "While we are talking about an addition, perhaps you will tell me about ours?"

Tassel's voice lost some of its rasping quality.  "Come; let me show you what has happened since last we were together."  With that, the masked badger turned and hurried up the steps.

Bruno held the chain out at full length and counted.  He got as high as five when Tassel snarled.  The masked beast stopped halfway up the stairs, turned in place, and rushed back to where Bruno stood.  She snatched the chain out of Bruno's paws.

"I suppose you were going to leave this poor child standing here?  Apparently your mind is elsewhere."

As the female stomped along towards the main entrance, Chitter wondered why Bruno chuckled.  Chitter scrambled after the upset female as she carried his chain towards the door.  His mind whirled with unasked questions, but the masked female kept muttering in a tone that held a note of menace. 

"My mind is elsewhere?  Admit it, wife; yours was in the same place.  What say I meet you upstairs in the Dormitory?  Once Chitter is settled, you can introduce me to our newest addition."

xxxxx

The masked female badger didn't answer and Chitter watched his master climb the stairs.  Just as he faced the door, it flew open.  A female vole rushed him.  The collision knocked Chitter onto the floor with the vole landing on top of him.

He tried extricating himself, but the chain entangled them.  Tassel's snarl made him freeze in place.  The female vole got back to her feet, pushing the heavy chain away from her.  She brushed her skirt back in place as she gazed upon the masked badger.

"Sorry for running into you like this, but I did want to catch you, Mrs. Tassel."

"Speak your piece, girl.  There are other things I need to do and I have no time to waste."

"Mother told me what you do when someone joined the Dibbun Dormitory.  May I act as his sponsor; offer what you call first blood?  You would allow it if my parents permit it?"

"As a favor to your mother for our past friendship, I'll allow it, Julia.  Bring sufficient clothing for the five-day period and then locate Firelog and Highclimber.  Tell them to report to the Dormitory."

Julia made a slight curtsy as she turned away.  The masked female watched her speedy retreat through the very door she had entered but a moment earlier.  The badger gave a slight snort, grabbed his chain, and marched outside. 

"My Lady, how do you know of first blood?  Were you once a slave like me?"

Tassel answered with a distant voice.  "Long ago, before I came here, I was born a slave.  As I grew in that distant land, I learned of first blood.  Now, I use it here whenever a new dibbun is placed under my care."

They hurried across the courtyard until they reached an area enclosed on three sides.  The cool of autumn did not reach inside the structure.  Within this room, Chitter experienced the warmth of an early spring.

Tassel shouted.  "Egress, where are you?"

A massive hedgehog dressed in a heavy leather apron entered the shop from a back door.  He circled the workbench, grabbed Chitter with one paw, and the heavy chain with the other.  He placed him on his workbench with a gentle touch.  Once there, Egress pulled the chain close to his face as he examined both it and the metal cuff.

"When I heard the bells announcing Bruno's return, I fired up the forge.  I must say I am surprised.  What happened to the others, Badgermom?"

"This is the only one my mate found."  Tassel pointed at the shackle as if the blacksmith had not already seen it.  "So, how long before this thing can be removed?

"Give me half an hour.  I'm certain I can get that shackle off by then."

The female threw her paws up in exasperation as she plopped onto a nearby bench.  "That long?  That's too much time for me to accomplish anything else.  It looks like I'm stuck here until that thing is off his leg."

Egress chuckled.  The hedgehog took his finger and traced a line above Chitter's ankle.  "I could slice his foot off here and remove that cuff within a moment."

So many things frightened him about this place.  First, a masked female with a voice that always sounded angry, and then a vole attacked him without provocation.  Now, this hedgehog wanted to remove his foot.  He gave into his fear and lunged for the exit.  The hedgehog held his tail while the masked badger blocked his retreat.  He cried, begging to keep his foot.

Tassel rushed to Chitter's side.  "Your joke was in poor taste, Egress."

"My apology, Badgermom, I didn't intend to scare him." 

Once he knew the blacksmith did not plan to remove his foot, Chitter stopped resisting the hedgehog's efforts to examine the shackle.  The hedgehog went to the far wall and returned with two buckets in his paws.  He placed the larger one on the table and Chitter knelt in it.  Egress used the other bucket to fill his with enough water to cover his lower leg. 

The hedgehog moved towards the forge and grabbed a wooden handle hanging from the ceiling.  With a mighty pull, Egress pumped the bellows.  With each stroke, the fire flared and the room went from spring warm to summer hot.  The tools resting in the coals turned white.

The blacksmith removed one of the heated instruments and placed it over the clamp end of the shackle while lifting his leg clear of the water.  As he squeezed, Chitter tried to withstand the intense heat that passed from the tool to the shackle.  When it grew too painful, he whimpered.  Egress lowered Chitter's leg into the cold water, and the pain diminished.

Tears ran down Chitter's muzzle as the hedgehog continued with his work.  After seven tries, the clamp fell off the squirrel.  Egress lifted him out of the water and ran his callused fingers through Chitter's fur, asking if anything hurt.  Satisfied, the hedgehog pronounced him fit.

"Glad to know Healer Egress, but mind if I ask somebody that knows medicine?"

"Now relax, Badgermom, this youngster is one very brave squirrel.  I'm just glad he didn't get burned while I removed that thing from his leg."

Badgermom Tassel's sharp voice softened.  "My apologies, sir, I have yet to speak with Bruno about our blessed event.  I am a bit nervous and distracted."

The blacksmith lifted Chitter off the workbench.  In spite of the heat, Chitter shivered in his wet clothing.  Egress pushed him towards Tassel with a light touch. 

"I can understand what you're going through.  My wife told me she spent several hours trying to find the right words when she announced the birth of our first child.  Trust me when I tell you all your mate wants to know is if everyone is healthy.  Nothing else matters."

She nodded.  "Would you do me the honor of joining us in Cavern Hole when the clock strikes three?  We will be making our presentation at that time."

The hedgehog lumbered over and embraced Tassel.  Such was his strength that he lifted her without as much as a grunt.  When he placed her sandaled feet back down, he gave her a light peck on her masked muzzle.  Having exchanged farewells, the two elders parted and Chitter followed the female.

[cairn destop]

Chapter Eleven
Welcome Home

"Lord Bruno said there were others like me," said Chitter.  "Where are the other slaves?"

Tassel paused on the steps, waiting for him to draw closer.  "Redwall has no slaves. Bruno was talking about other dibbuns your age.  You'll meet them very soon."

Chitter followed the masked badger to the second floor and entered the door she opened.  Beyond the door, he hustled along a corridor wide enough for any two adult creatures.  Along the right wall, a series of wooden pegs held jackets, raingear, and frilly bonnets.  A series of racks on the floor held boots of various sizes as well as several pairs of sandals.  Tassel stayed a pace behind him, which allowed him no time to look closer.

When the hallway ended at a large room, four other creatures stirred.  The first one he recognized as Lord Bruno.  Next to the badger stood a female vole, the same one that knocked him on the floor earlier.  If he had to guess, she had to be older than him based solely on her height.

A male hedgehog sat on one of the beds that lined the left wall.  His russet colored fur accentuated his black spikes.  Chitter realized how grungy his garments must appear when he compared his to the tan outfit the hedgehog wore.

The female squirrel that sat next to the hedgehog displayed a much deeper shade of grey than his own pelt.  He marveled at how well brushed and styled her fur appeared.  Her lacy blue dress and white pinafore turned her into a very pretty girl.

Bruno sauntered forward and embraced the masked female.  There were some soft mutterings between them he could not hear.  When they parted, Chitter could see the wide smile on Bruno's face as he gave Tassel a quick nip on her ear.  Tassel giggled. 

"I will hurry, husband, as we have much to do." 

"Don't worry, Tassel.  I intend helping the children assemble the two new beds.  It shouldn't take that long and I can wait a few moments more."

The masked female turned to the three children.  Her voice carried such authority Chitter doubted anyone would dare disobey her commands.

"Julia, prepare the bath water.  Highclimber, Firelog, accompany my mate downstairs and bring up two beds from storage."

The female squirrel answered.  "Mother Tassel, we have bath water heating on the stove.  We even brought out the linens and were waiting for your arrival before going for the beds."

"Excellent work, Highclimber," said Tassel.  "If the water is hot enough we can begin right away.  Julia, follow me." 

Tassel's firm paw to Chitter's back propelled him through one of two doors on the far wall.  A large metal washbasin big enough for Bruno sat in the middle of the room.  Chitter gave the two females a defiant look.

"I can wash myself."  Chitter crossed his arms over his chest as he moved next to the large tub.

The masked female laughed.  "I have no doubt of that.  However, since this is your first time here.  Like it or not, I will bathe you.  It will give me a chance to examine your fur for any uninvited guests."

Tassel walked over to a long bench.  With deft movements, the elder removed both gloves and placed them on the countertop.  She then reached up and unfastened her mask.

When she turned, Tassel revealed the left side of her face.  A slim red scar ran from the tip of her nose to the back of her head.  Though he thought the mark ugly, he wondered why she wore a mask.  When she revealed her right side, Chitter gasped in horror. 

Four large scars marred her face.  The lines reminded him of raw flesh in appearance.  One ran from the middle of her snout just behind the tip of her nose and ended at her upper jaw.  A second ran from the center of her crushed muzzle to the end of her upper jaw.  Between these two marks, she had no lip, which etched a permanent sinister snarl to her face.  Two more scars stretched on either side of her eye from the top of her head to a point halfway down her neck.

Chitter's revulsion matched that of the vole.  She too had a shocked reaction to Tassel's face.  He stepped back until he felt the tub against him.  Julia stayed rooted to the spot.  The badger approached her first. 

"It's no secret that my face is disfigured, girl.  Since my mask remains on whenever I leave this place, perhaps you never knew.  Still, I thought you said your mother spoke of me.  Didn't she tell you of my face?"

Julia shuddered as Tassel stared at her.  The vole then lifted her muzzle as she met the Badgermom's gaze.  "Mother never said why you needed the mask.  I'm sorry for my thoughtless behavior, Mrs. Tassel."

Tassel waved her paw dismissively.  She then approached the large tub and placed her paw in the water.  Satisfied the water was hot enough, she approached him.  Chitter's first thought, where to run.  He then reminded himself that this was Lord Bruno's mate.

The badger's fingers ran along the squirrel's chest and with a pull, tugged the shirt over his head.  She grunted.  Chitter felt himself lifted off the floor as she peeled the garment off him.  Tassel held the shirt up and examined it in the light of a nearby lamp.  The female badger draped it over her arm.

Tassel next ran her thumbs about his waistline.  She ordered the boy to remove his trousers and held out her arm for the garment.  After receiving it, the badger tossed everything to Julia. 

"Turn around," she ordered.  Chitter felt her paw pull his tail with a gentle touch.

"Julia, see that you get three sets of garments.  Have the shirts two sizes larger.  Tell whatever beast is handling stores I want the pants at least a full size bigger.  Make sure the vent is wide.  His tail is raw from the rub of the fabric."

"Badgermom, what should I do with these garments?"

"Burn those worthless rags.  They're so tattered I wouldn't save them even as scraps."

Chitter pleaded with the adult.  "Please let me keep the shirt.  Mother made it for me and I'm sure it will look a lot nicer when it's cleaned."

"Those filthy rags are unfit for any beast," said Tassel.  "The shirt is so threadbare I am amazed it hasn't ripped apart before now.  Anyway, a few good meals and there will be no way you could ever wear it."

With a deft motion, Tassel swept Chitter from the floor and into the tub.  He was stunned when this harsh sounding beast turned out to have such gentle paws, much like his mother.  He surrendered to her scrubbing action. 

In short order, the badger pulled the stopper from the tub.  Lifting the large cauldron sitting nearby, Tassel poured lukewarm water over his head.  Tassel then pointed to a large canvas box.

"Tell me Chitter, have you ever used a shaking booth before?"

"I said I could take a bath all by myself.  I know enough not to shake water onto the floor."

Chitter walked into the box and closed the canvas door.  Once the door sealed, he gave a mighty shake.  Water splattered everywhere and drained into the shallow basin where he stood.  His second shake sprayed more water onto the canvas walls.  After a short pause, Chitter gave a third violent shake, opened the door, and stepped out.  He knew his mother would be so proud.

"Mother taught me that it's once for the fur, twice for the skin and a third time to dry."

The badger smiled at him and Chitter sensed his stomach churn.  Tassel sat on a stool and had him stand on a low bench within her reach.  A large towel enfolded him as she rubbed him dry.  Chitter felt so nervous that questions came rolling off his tongue like the wheels of a runaway cart.  A paw snapped his muzzle shut.

"Your mother knew well what she was doing when naming you.  Tell you what; I will answer some of those questions, but only if you keep quiet."

Time passed.  "My gloves cover the scars I got from prison shackles.  Unlike the one you wore, the inner surface had sharp ridges that made them a painful form of punishment."

"Miss Tassel was naughty?"

"Indeed I was, Chitter.  A long time ago, when I was much younger, I wore those shackles for more than a year.  Over time, those sharp edges scarred my wrists and ankles.  Now, no fur grows where I once wore them."

"What about your tail?  Were you born without one?"

There was a melancholy sound to the badger's voice.  "My master had my tail docked when I was about a year older than you.  There are rainy days during the winter when I swear I can still feel that tail wagging."

"And your face, how did you get that scar?"

Tassel's soapy paw traced the red scar that ran along her left muzzle.  "This I got because I was a foolish little girl and didn't listen to instructions.  While tightening the wires on a fence, one strand snapped and I was lucky that it struck my muzzle."

Chitter tried to understand how she could consider that lucky.  His expression must have amused the badger since she laughed. 

"If it struck me higher, I would have lost an eye; lower and I would have lost my life."

He asked about the disfigured side of her face.  Tassel remained quiet.  For a moment, Chitter wondered if his question angered the badger.  The towel no longer moved as Tassel stood there, frozen like some living statue.  Though she stared at him, he did not think she saw him.

"Remember me saying I was a slave?"  Tassel resumed toweling him for another moment before she continued.  "A woodlander army came to my homeland.  They saw themselves as our liberators, while I saw them as invaders.  During the ensuing battle, a female sea otter fancied herself either a stooping eagle or a pouncing wildcat.  I evaded her spear, but her war gauntlet raked my face."

Tassel concentrated on brushing his fur.  Since she had not commanded his silence, Chitter asked still another question.  "Do you hate the woodlanders for what they did?"

"At the time, we each did what we thought was right.  It was my misfortune to fight for the losing side.  I have paid a terrible price for that decision.  I suppose that is what angers me most.  Now keep silent while I finish your grooming as I have other things to do, Chitter."

They heard a deep cough.  Both turned to find Bruno standing in the doorway, his back against the door jam.  In his paws, he held a change of clothes.  Tassel flung the sodden towel in his direction, which missed him.  It landed in a nearby hamper. 

"How long have you been standing there, husband?"

"Let's just say I learned more in the last twenty minutes about my wife's past than I have in four years.  If I knew you intended telling all your secrets to a dibbun, I would have kept quiet even longer."

Tassel retrieved her mask and gloves.  "Then be glad you spoke when you did as I have no intention of answering his other questions." 

"Pity; I was hoping you would tell me even more secrets."

"Husband, leave those garments on the sink and the boy can dress himself.  I think the other children can watch Chitter while you and I check out the Nursery." 

"Those are the words I have been waiting all day to hear.  Let's go!"

Once dressed, Chitter exited the wash area.  A large footlocker at the end of one bed had its lid open.  The other children motioned him closer.  Julia pointed to the other garments folded inside before she closed the lid.  His paw rubbed the footlocker, reveling in the sensation of possessing something for him alone.  The other children kept quiet as he completed his inspection of the bed.

He turned to his three companions.  "Do you know how first blood is done?  I know what it meant as a slave, but Lord Bruno told me I'm free."

The hedgehog spoke as he draped his arm over Chitter's shoulder.  "It means we get to do a lot of chores with you.  For the next four days, that's all we will be doing from morning 'til the Dibbun Bell.  Only good thing about doing so much work is having that fifth day off.  We can go anywhere we want within the Abbey walls and just play."

"That doesn't sound so bad.  Mother and I worked hard at our old place all the time.  How bad can it be here?"

The female squirrel shook her finger at Chitter, her admonishing tone sounding like some upset adult.  "Just be sure you ask one of us before you do anything.   If you get into any trouble, she will punish us.  I'm not about to scrub pots and pans for something you did."

"Thing I hate about first blood is that we have all our meals in private with Mother T.  First time you see her eat without that mask...."  Firelog gave a shudder.  "It took me three meals before I could watch her and eat too."

Highclimber interrupted their conversation.  "Firelog is right.  It takes time getting use to her face."  With an impatient wave of her paw, she gazed at their newest member.  "Now for the important question: What do you think of our Badgermom?"

When Chitter replied, the female squirrel whooped.  Turning to the hedgehog, she grabbed his arm and punched him hard on the shoulder.  She did the same thing to the vole.  Both rubbed their arms after she punched them.

"I was right.  He said Mother Tassel was scary and I was right.  Thanks for letting me get hits on them Chitter.  If you had said ugly or mean, one of them would have had hits."  The squirrel bounced on her toes, unable to contain her excitement.

"So what is the lady badger like?"

She approached Chitter, her expression very serious and her voice low.  Just before she spoke, she checked the room.

"If you think you'll be doing a lot of chores just over the next few days, you're wrong.  All we ever do is lots and lots of work."

Firelog chimed in.  "And if it's not chores, she will be smacking your furry bottom for any small thing you do that displeases her."

Julia charged Firelog.  Her wagging finger caught him so unaware he staggered back and fell on his rump.  She straddled his hips and bent over the unfortunate hedgehog.  Her angry voice and the one paw on her waist reminded Chitter of his mother whenever he did something wrong.

"You're such a little fibber.  How can you say such a thing?  If I remember right, wasn't it Miss Tassel that spent four days sewing your costume for the school play last month?"

"Yeah, how could you say such mean things, Firelog?"

Julia spun around so fast that the female squirrel could only sidestep her.  Too bad the bed blocked her escape.  Highclimber tumbled over the bed with a squeal.  One sandal shot into the air as she landed on the floor with a thud.

Julia stamped her foot.  "Don't even let me start on you, you bushy-tailed twit.  According to my mother, Miss Tassel spent a week convincing the Pine Tar tribal chieftain that a certain high-spirited girl should accompany them on their vacation trip last summer.  Have you forgotten that?"

Firelog whined.  "We were just having some fun."

Julia stood between the two.  She faced one and then the other while she gave each a deep scowl.  Both Firelog and Highclimber fell silent under her menacing growl.

Chitter spoke.  "I know how she lost her tail."

They gave Chitter their undivided attention as he relayed what he learned.  One tale led to another and soon the children were swapping stories.  Everyone was having such fun that none paid any attention to the clock.  An otter youth called out to them from the hallway.

"Unless you kids prefer insulting our Mother Tassel, you have less than three minutes before she presents the twins."

[cairn destop]

Chapter Twelve
Introductions Are Made

Robertasin leaned back in her padded chair.  The autumn sun, magnified by the window behind her desk, warmed her back.  She kept her eyes closed as she cradled a cup of hot tea in her paws.  Robertasin took a deep sniff, savoring the cinnamon smell.  She drained her cup, trying to identify the other spice that gave it such a wonderful taste.

"Mother Abbot, I would enjoy an answer sometime before the next spring thaw."

She opened her eyes.  A slim hedgehog sat on her sofa sipping from his cup.  His expression reminded her of a predator studying its intended victim. 

"I would hope, Mother Abbot, you could convince that Cellar Hog to be a bit more generous with the October Ale.  I made him an excellent offer for a portion of this year's vintage, but he turned me down."

Robertasin smiled as she refilled her cup with the flavored tea.  "You always were a good haggler.  Never knew any beast to get more at the farmer's market than you."

The Mother Abbot opened a ledger sitting on her desk.  Her finger ran down the page, confirming the numbers she checked before their meeting.  She finished her tea and placed the empty cup on the corner of her desk.

"We already have three casks assigned to you.  How many more do you want?  I might pry one or two loose, but no more.  We only have eighty casks this year, not our usual hundred and twenty.  We do have obligations to other merchants and dignitaries and I refuse to overlook our commitments."

Dale leaned forward, placing his cup next to her empty one.  "Make it six and I can add a full shipment of herbs and spices found nowhere within these lands.  Your chef will become the envy of every visitor." 

"Not so fast, it's no easy task you set for me.  That cellar hog guards our October Ale as if it were a precious jewel."  Robertasin stared at the ceiling, her fingers drumming against each other.  "I'm sure I can allocate an additional two casks if you made it worth my while.  Add a full chest of this fine tea blend each month for the next six months and I might up it to the additional three casks you wanted."

"You have a deal, Mother Abbot.  You will have your first month's supply delivered to your office tonight.  I need only pick it up after I return to my room."

"I find it hard believing you would carry a month's supply of this tea with you," said the Mother Abbot.

"A good merchant always keeps stock on paw," said Dale.  "I offered Bruno a case of peppermints as a gift for Tassel.  In return, he allowed me to pack his cart.  One box I packed held enough of that tea blend to offer you forty cups every month.  I remembered how much you liked it when I came here last year, though you weren't the Mother Abbot at that time."

Robertasin wanted her first trade agreement viewed as a major success, but Dale anticipated her counteroffer.  One glance at the lanky hedgehog's smug expression confirmed her suspicions.  He had gotten the better end of the deal.  The Mother Abbot accepted her defeat with dignity as she entered a notation in the ledger assigning the three additional casks promised. 

A sense of relief washed over her when somebody knocked on her office door.  Robertasin's secretary poked her head inside, but never got a chance to say anything.  Egress pushed his way inside. 

"Mother Abbot, the clock will soon strike three.  You wouldn't want to be late."

Robertasin groaned.  His comment jogged her memory about Tassel's invitation.  Her mind considered several possible excuses, but none appeared reasonable.  With no other alternative, she rose.  When she stepped out of her office, the two hedgehogs followed her to Cavern Hole.

Since the cooks would not serve dinner for another hour, the communal dining hall appeared almost empty when she arrived.  She walked to the far end of the room with the two hedgehogs a step behind her.  Robertasin nodded to the assembled residents and shook paws with several friends.  She mounted the steps that led to the head table and took the special chair reserved for the leaders of Redwall.  When she sat, so did every beast within the room.

With the exception of the closest table, the gathered beasts remained silent.  At that table, a dozen youngsters continued to talk in an animated manner.  Instead of a dignified silence, Robertasin saw dibbuns at a festival awaiting some exciting gift.  She felt compelled to say something, but every child quieted when the Abbey's clock struck the hour.

As the last chime sounded, Tassel entered the room with the grace of an aristocrat.  Once past the entrance, she waited.  Bruno followed, pushing a cart.  The cart held two bassinets, one in a light shade of pink and the other in just as light a shade of blue.

Bruno wheeled the cart between two chairs placed in the open area near the Mother Abbot's table.  Tassel remained silent, even after Bruno whispered something to her.  Bruno stood.  He reached over to the blue bassinet and raised a tiny form so all could see.

"Behold our firstborn son.  We have given him the name of Thorn.  May he become such in the side of all his enemies and any that would oppose him in battle.  Like the thorn found upon the rose, may he protect all that is full of beauty."  Bruno returned the pup to his bassinet.

Next, he reached over and lifted his daughter.  When all had viewed the girl, Bruno recited the words tradition dictated. 

"Behold our firstborn daughter.  We have given her the name of Serenity.  May she one day rule our Dormitory and become the calming influence that every child needs.  May she always know peace and return all the love given to her a hundredfold." 

Tassel spoke from her chair after Bruno returned the badger pup to its bassinet.  "It is customary for a new family to introduce their newborn child to their extended family in this manner.  Unfortunately, we have no relatives.  I requested this time and place so those who wished could attend.  It pleases me seeing so many."

Tassel stood.  "Before we begin, there is one here that I shall honor.  Without her, none of this would be possible.  I call forward the Mother Abbot."

Robertasin wished she had a mirror.  She would give anything to see her expression when Tassel called her by name.  Every resident knew how much she disliked the sow badger.  It seemed inconceivable Tassel would offer her such an honor.

For the span of a dozen heartbeats, the Mother Abbot debated the merits of refusing the honor.  Then she saw Healer Shortspike sitting at one of the tables, her eyes boring into her like knives.  Mother Abbot she may be, but no choice did she have.

Robertasin walked from the head table and approached the new parents.  Upon drawing near, Tassel dropped to her knees and bowed before the Mother Abbot, pressing her forehead against the stone floor.  Robertasin looked down at the prostrate badger and surprised herself when she leaned down and motioned Tassel up.

She kept a smile on her face as she whispered.  "Tell me badger, why do you honor me?"

Tassel kept her head bowed.  "We have our differences Mother Abbot, but I will pay homage to the position you hold."

Robertasin nodded.  "Then let us forget our differences for this one moment.  All here come to honor you and your newborns.  I will not spoil it for you.  Think of me as another elder and not your jailer."

She approached the two bassinets while Tassel returned to her seat.  Robertasin looked upon the infants and fondled their heads.  Her fingers mussed the downy fur that such newborns had.  She knew it would be several weeks before the distinctive black and white markings would manifest.

"I will not delay this ceremony any longer than necessary.  Badgermom Tassel, is there anything else you wish to say?"

Tassel grasped her paw and kissed it before she addressed the room.

"According to custom, the new parents will ask the immediate family to approach first.  Since there is nobody related by blood, we extend the right of family to the children now under our care.  They shall approach first as these two will join them within the Dormitory.  Let the oldest lead, followed in turn by the next youngest.  I also extend the honor of family to the vole girl, Julia.  Since she is spending time with us as our guest, I ask she come up last."

One by one, the dibbuns paraded before the four badgers.  The children bowed their heads towards the Badgermom before gazing into the bassinets.  They would fondle each pup and give Tassel some sincere compliment.  Once past the two bassinets, they hugged Bruno.  When Chitter came before the masked female, he knelt and placed his forehead on the sow's knees.

"Let me give blood to both pups."

Tassel lifted the kit squirrel back to his feet and brushed his face with her fingers.  "It will be several years before they can receive such a gift.  However, I shall allow you that honor when they come of age.  For now, join us at the reception line."

Julia hesitated, unwilling to return to her seat.  "Mrs. Tassel, if Chitter is acting as an honor guard for one child, perhaps I could do the same for the other."

The masked female gave a slight bark.  "Nurse Boteza told me you have tried every trick imaginable hoping you could tend to one of my pups.  If that is your wish, just ask.  I have overheard many a new mother speak highly of your willingness to help with their infants.  If others find you trustworthy, I have no reason to dispute their wisdom."

Both Chitter and Julia stood like a pair of miniature guards.  Chitter positioned himself between Bruno and the bassinets, his tail held high and his back straight.  The kit squirrel tried maintaining a serious expression, but kept grinning whenever he glanced over at the two pups.   If one of the infants made a sound, Julia shifted closer to that bassinet.

By the time the clock signaled the start of dinner, all the assembled guests had an opportunity to see the pups.  As the other residents filed into Cavern Hole, the guests drifted to different tables.  Bruno and Tassel moved to the table occupied by the children.  Bruno took the seat at the head while Tassel sat to his right between the two pups.

xxxxx

Every child at Tassel's table sat like miniature statues.  She did not realize this until Bruno tapped the table in front of her.  Her suggestion they eat before the food turned cold had the children passing the various dishes. 

Infants too, must eat if they are to grow.  Tassel drew a blanket from one bassinet and placed it over her shoulder.  Lifting one, she suckled the pup.  After a few moments, she returned the pup and repeated the process.  Once she fed both, Tassel selected her food.  While she ate, she kept caressing son or daughter.

Opposite to Tassel sat the latest addition to the menagerie of beasts she mothered.  Chitter first looked at his plate, his expression showing some hesitation.  Highclimber leaned closer and whispered something.  The girl's nod acted as the signal Chitter needed.  He attacked his food like a starving beast.

With his plate empty, Chitter spoke.  Such was his enthusiasm that he didn't notice the quiet table.  "First time I saw Lord Bruno ...."

A light jab to the ribs from Firelog silenced the squirrel.  "Don't you remember what we call him?"

The kit squirrel flattened his ears as he glanced about the table.  His tail dipped until it rested on the floor, his eagerness gone.  His eyes focused on his empty dish while he sat in silence.  Highclimber exchanged her full plate for his empty one and pushed the fork closer to his paw.  Chitter ate, but not with the gusto he showed the first time.

Tassel pulled her chair closer to the table.  She placed her elbows on the hard wooden surface, interlocked her fingers, and rested her masked muzzle on them.  She continued staring at the kit squirrel, waiting.  Chitter did what she expected, he glanced her way. 

"You've started telling us something interesting, Chitter.  I would love hearing what happened next."

Chitter licked the tip of his nose and pushed against the seat's backrest.  His eyes darted to each side before they again focused on his food.  For a moment, Tassel thought she would have to say something, but he spoke in a low voice that often faltered.

"First time I saw Pa Badger, I thought he was some terrible monster.  He stood taller than every tree.  His mouth contained teeth like huge daggers.  Then he drew his weapon.  It flashed like the sun and he had it pointed at my heart." 

"About time this Abbey had a story where my husband plays the part of the monster." 

A light harrumph from Bruno elicited a low giggle.  None of the other children reacted to their banter.  She glanced about the table.  Each of her young charges averted their eyes.  Chitter once more flattened his ears.

"Alright children, something is bothering you.  Now who is going to tell me what it is?"

There was a bit of nervous squirming and sideward glances as Tassel's eyes bore into each child.  When she got to her oldest, a male hedgehog named Tabiston, his eyes darted from her to the two voles sitting across from him.  When she made eye contact with the voles, she did not break it. 

Amaris broke the heavy silence.  "Now that you have your own children, what will happen to us?  Mitteenna said you're going to leave us.  Even Pa Badger doesn't want us now that you have pups."

Mitteenna's expression showed that she wished she could disappear.  The girl stared down into her lap, her eyes filling with tears.  The first one trickled down her muzzle.  Tears fell faster, leaving a wet trail down her fur.  The girl made no effort to dry them.

"That's what happened to me.  Mother married another after father died.  When they had a baby of their own, they got rid of me like yesterday's trash.  It's going to happen again, I just know it."

The words revealed the fear every child had at that table.  Some of these dibbuns lost their parent through tragic circumstances.  Others suffered the cruelest cut when their family abandoned them.  She referred to them as her children, but those were words.

Tassel pushed back her chair.  The sound had every child cringe as if it were a physical blow.  She walked down to the far end of the table between the two voles.  Her right paw landed on the shoulder of Amaris, while she stroked the back of Mitteenna with her left.

"Until Thorn and Serenity are weaned, I will be spending much of my time with them.  However, that doesn't mean I'll forget any of you.  As far as I'm concerned, those pups are just two more youngsters for me to love."

From across the table, the hedgehog Tabeston pushed his spectacles off the tip of his muzzle.  "You're still going to be our Badgermom?  Pa Badger isn't leaving?"

Tassel raised her muzzle and gave a playful growl.  "You just try getting rid of us, boy."

There was a bit of nervous laughter from many of the children.  Mitteenna resumed crying, her face buried in her crossed arms.  Amaris hugged her friend.  Tassel returned to her mate and rested her paws on his shoulder.  Bruno first kissed the back of her paws and then smiled at the table full of expectant children.

"You know where Tassel and I like to stay when we're in the Common Room.  Why don't you wheel the pups there while we finish our deserts?"

"As a special treat," Tassel added, "we will clear the table.  I'm guessing many of the elders will want a chance to see the pups."

Every child made a dash from the table.  They surrounded the cart containing the two badger pups and with a very slow pace, left Cavern Hole.  Tassel took her seat while they watched the children depart.  Neither badger said anything until the last dibbun exited the room.

"Alright, I admit it, Tassel.  You were right.  They were frightened of our pups."

"And you had an excellent idea, Bruno.  The children now know we trust our pups with them.  We could be over there in another minute, but what say we take another slice of pie before we head over?  I don't know what our cook added, but this is the best I've tasted in a long time."

Bruno's rumbling laughter as he again kissed her paw was his only reply.  When she entered the Common Room with her mate, they found the children still guarding the two bassinets.  It took a few words of encouragement before they dispersed.  Chitter proved the most reluctant, but his new friends refused to leave him standing guard over two sleeping pups.

[cairn destop]

Chapter Thirteen
A Day's Ending

The Abbey clock chimed the new hour with a special series of notes many called the Dibbun Bell.  It signaled the end of the day for the younger residents.  Tassel rose from her corner of the Common Room as she searched for those under her care.

On any given night, she anticipated at least one reluctant child.  Tonight, something happened that left her speechless.  Without her usual prompting, every child gravitated to her corner of the room.  Even their newest addition trailed Highclimber and Firelog.

When she reached for one of the bassinets, Bruno growled.  Her mate took one bassinet in each paw as he led the way.  Tassel brought up the rear, following her children back to the Dormitory.  It felt good accepting such pampering from her mate.

She watched everyone jostle for another look at the two sleeping badger pups.  Chitter tried pushing inquisitive paws away from the slumbering pups without much success.  Bruno said nothing to any of the children, but kept making eye contact with her as they mounted the stairs.

"Wait a moment, I think we're missing one," said Tassel.

"It's Julia," Bruno said.  "She left the Common Room an hour earlier.  She never returned."

"Pity, but I have no authority over her.  Perhaps her parents changed their mind."

At the top of the stairs, Bruno turned towards the Nursery.  Chitter followed, but a sharp bark and a stern look sent the kit squirrel scurrying back towards the other children.  His crestfallen face had several children giggling, and Chitter found himself the object of many good-natured barbs.  A gentle hug from Tassel brought his smile back.

Tassel ushered Chitter inside.  She stood in the hallway, propping the door open as each child entered the Dormitory.  When the last dibbun crossed the threshold, somebody snagged her ear and gave it a vicious twist.  A low yelp escaped her lips.  She tried removing the offending paw but the creature that held her pulled even harder.





"I want you in my office right now."  As the Mother Abbot, she wanted to keep calm.  However, she surrendered to her anger.  Robertasin gave the badger's ear another vicious yank. 

"Your behavior tonight has been nothing less than reprehensible."

"Mother Abbot, what have I done?"

Robertasin ignored the protesting badger as she marched to her office.  With a stiff arm applied to the door, she preceded the badger sow.  She pulled on the ear so hard Tassel fell to all fours.  Once Robertasin released her, Tassel's paw rubbed her ear.  The badger shifted as she climbed to her feet.

"Get on your belly, vermin.  I will not have you stand as if you were some honorable beast."

Tassel dropped, but not fast enough to satisfy her.  She gave the badger sow a kick, which drove the wind from Tassel's lungs.  The badger trembled.  Robertasin stood next to the prostrate sow's side.

"Over the years I have heard many a tale told about your wanton cruelty.  I now have no doubt about the validity of every one of those stories.  What I heard today is depravity beyond belief."

Tassel raised her muzzle.  That earned her a sharp slap against the back of her head and a menacing growl.  Tassel pressed her forehead against the floor.  Robertasin's leaned closer to the badger's ear, her voice reverberating off the walls as she shouted.

"I don't even want to hear your justification.  I will not allow you to torture those children."

"Mother Abbot, please tell me what you're talking about.  Never would I torture any of those orphans.  Perhaps they saw my punishments as such, but never did I take any pleasure from such necessary actions."

Robertasin kicked Tassel's backside, which sent the badger sprawling.  "Do you dare to claim I did not hear Chitter say he wanted to be the first to give blood to your pups?  How many others did you bleed for your pleasure?  By the Eternals, I swear I will get to the truth."

"You misunderstood," said Tassel.  "Chitter was talking about my custom of having somebody give first blood to our newest member.  The term comes from my homeland, where a new slave learned about his duties from a more experienced slave.  I use it here to help those unfamiliar with Redwall Abbey, its residents, and our customs."

She again leaned over the prostrated badger.  "And you expect me to believe this nonsense?"

Her flowing habit shrunk several sizes, which restricted her movements.  Robertasin found herself lifted off her feet and flying backwards.  She landed on the sofa with such force that it almost toppled.  Only the wall prevented that from happening, though she found out being the Mother Abbot did not make the wall softer when her head hit the paneled wall.  For an instant, her vision turned everything white.

When her eyes refocused, she saw a third creature in her office.  Instead of the deep forest brown color she remembered, Bruno's eyes displayed a deep reddish tinge.  If Bruno hadn't entered the blood wrath, she knew the boar must be on the very edge of its madness.

"My mate tells you the truth.  Two others underwent first blood in the four years of our marriage.  They do chores under the guidance of two other children living with us.  It helps them learn about their new home.  Tell me what is wrong with that?" bellowed Bruno.

The male badger reached down and helped his mate up.  Tassel stood behind Bruno like a child seeking the protection of a trusted elder.  With his wife behind him, the male badger faced her.  He kept flexing his paws into fists as massive as her head.

Robertasin stood and straightened her habit.  One look at the boar and she knew a wrong word might prove fatal.  Discression offered her a better option. 

"Very well, I will accept your explanation Bruno.  However, I have heard enough horror stories about her harsh discipline that I will take appropriate actions to prevent future abuse."

"With the exception of two visiting hares, the worst punishment Tassel ever gave was a firm spanking."

Robertasin gave a snort as she took her proper place.  Once comfortable in her chair and with the desk between them, she faced the boar.  Bruno deprived her of one pleasure, but she felt it would make the next even more delightful.  Her anticipation changed her voice into one where every word had a syrupy-sweet tone.

"Do you mean after four years of marriage that vermin sow never once told you of the honorable beasts she murdered?  She said nothing of the woodlanders she enslaved.  She didn't entertain you with tales of woodlander justice and her imprisonment."

The boar growled.  "Over these last four years I have listened to respectable elders call my mate vermin far too many times.  At her insistence, I remained silent.  That ends here."  He punctuated his comment by slamming both fists onto her desk with such force that the top split.  The separated corner tilted, papers slid to the edge.

Bruno took several deep breaths.  His calm voice did not signal an end to hostilities between them as his paws remained fisted.  "If she is such an evil creature, tell me how she got such an honorable position as Badgermom."

Robertasin couldn't hide her contempt.  "An earlier Father Abbot gave her that title saying Martin the Warrior directed him to do so in a dream.  My predecessor confirmed her role as Badgermom.  I don't believe such stories.  As far as I am concerned, their decision left too many youngsters living with a cruel and vindictive vermin nightmare.  I intend correcting that error."

It seemed like a lifetime ago that she promised vengeance against the sow.  After so many years, she had the power she craved.  Healer Shortspike had the right of it.  Her hatred drove her.  Now, the moment long anticipated had arrived.

"Enjoy this night sow; it's your last as the Badgermom.  Tomorrow at breakfast, I will announce your removal and reassignment as," and here Robertasin paused.  Assured that both badgers were giving her their undivided attention, she finished her thought, "the beast in charge of the compost heap.  It seems a very appropriate position, handling garbage, cleaning chamber pots, and mucking the livestock pens.  Tassel will remain in that position until I learn the truth about how our vermin badger has treated the dibbuns placed in her care."

Bruno leaned over the desk so far his muzzle almost touched her whiskers.  Even from her seat, she noticed how his hackles stood up.  At least his eyes no longer glowed like a banked fire.  His posture did not intimidate her.  She held the power of the Mother Abbot.

"Not this way," snarled the boar.  "You cannot change her duties when she has served this Abbey with honor as the Badgermom."

"You forget sir, I am her jailer and Redwall is that sow's prison.  If it pleases me to change her assignment, I can."

Tassel's voice carried a trembling tone, but the words were clear.  "She is the Mother Abbot and that gives her absolute authority.  She may order anything of me and I must comply."

Robertasin placed her elbows on the desk and intertwined her fingers.  She rested her muzzle on her paws as she stared at the anguished sow.  The Mother Abbot ignored the boar and once again, a malevolent grin manifested itself.  She relaxed in her chair and dropped her paws onto her lap.  Victory tasted sweet, and she wanted to savor every moment.

"So glad you remembered that, vermin.  In fact, I have a little reminder of my authority.  Shall I show you what it is?"

She reached into her desk drawer and flipped a pair of shiny keys onto her desk blotter.  When the key ring landed in clear view, Tassel again fell to her knees wailing.  Bruno's anger changed to utter confusion as he tried consoling his wife.  Tassel's eyes remained riveted to those keys.  Her fear had her shake like a sapling in a high wind.

"First thing I did as Mother Abbot was unlock that tower.  It seems some prudent beast packed the prison shackles in grease.  After all these years, they are still in excellent working condition.  Starting tomorrow, that tower will be your new home and those shackles shall adorn your wrists and ankles once more.  Locking you in that place each night will be one duty I shall relish."

Bruno's jaw hung open, his confusion evident.  Tassel continued her whimpering.  Robertasin could feel the power of her title filling her with joy.  As the Mother Abbot, she knew none would challenge her decision. 

"The old whip might be dry rotted, but any tanner can fix that.  As for wielders, there would be no shortage of volunteers.  You know I have no compunction about ordering its use, so you will do as you are told or suffer the consequences."

Tassel continued wailing.  Bruno helped his wife to the sofa before he turned on her.  He approached her desk with both fist clenched, but Robertasin felt no danger from the boar.

"You dare call my wife cruel and vindictive.  Tell me, what makes you any better?"

"I speak with the power of the Law.  Anything and everything she has is at my discretion.  Understand sir, I can even annul her marriage and confiscate those pups if I so desire."

"You might have such powers over my wife, but you have none over me, or our pups.  Don't ever try using either against her." 

The threat sounded genuine.  They faced each other, neither one wanting to blink first.  The Mother Abbot relaxed in her chair, confident of her safety.  Tassel sobbed all the harder, which drew her mate closer. 

Bruno lifted his wife until she leaned against him.  Together they moved as one towards the doorway.  Before the two badgers stepped across the threshold, Bruno growled his parting comment.

"This has to be your worse decision.  You are depriving those children of the only mother they know because of some personal vendetta.  The sooner Tassel is reconfirmed as Badgermom, the better those children will feel."




Bruno found the hallway deserted as he escorted his wife back.  Once inside their private quarters, he glanced into the Dormitory and saw everyone preparing for bed.  He pulled the door shut.  Nothing short of an emergency would disturb them.

His wife sat on the bed, her back to him.  Her gloves and stockings rested on the floor.  She stared at her wrists, inspecting the bare patch of scarred skin.  Her voice sounded so devoid of any emotion.

"I'll not need those tomorrow.  My shackles will cover the bare spots."

Bruno sat next to his wife; he embraced her and she gave into her fears.  The two of them remained in their embrace until a light knock came from the Dormitory.  Bruno glanced at his mate; she nodded.  He unlocked the upper half of the door.  Julia stood there holding a cloth covered object.

"Mister Bruno, I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier, but I have a gift for Chitter.  Would you like to be there when I give it to him?"

Bruno almost dismissed the vole.  Just as he opened his mouth, a paw touched his shoulder.  Tassel stood next to him, her tear-stained mask now discarded. 

"You have my curiosity aroused, girl.  Lead the way."

Julia preceded the two badgers as they approached Chitter's bed.  Bruno took pride in how everyone made the kit squirrel welcomed.  It pleased him when the other children laughed. 

Julia led the way.  She stood next to Chitter's footlocker holding the cloth covered object.  Every conversation stopped.

Highclimber charged over.  She bounced on her toes as she stared at the covered object.  For a moment, Bruno wondered if the girl would lift the cover to sate her curiosity.  Instead, she circled the vole, her paws flexing as she reached for the package.  The vole held it just beyond the girl's questing reach.

"Julia, what is it?  Come on, show me."

"You're going to have to wait just like everyone else.  I promised our carpenter I would plant her garden this spring, so I am not about to let you spoil the surprise."

The female squirrel puckered her lips and stomped her bare foot.  She turned her back on the others.  Firelog led her back to the group gathered around Chitter's bed.

"Stop pouting you nosy girl.  As one of Chitter's sponsors, you get a front row view."

Highclimber's ears snapped upright and her drooping tail rose.  She sat so close to Chitter that their fur merged into one creature.  Bruno and Tassel joined the others as they awaited the presentation.

"Chitter, close your eyes and hold out your paws.  I have something for you."

The squirrel did as instructed.  Julia removed the cloth and placed the gift in his paws.  Chitter traced the object he held with trembling fingers.  Bruno marveled at the beauty of the box.  The other children gave appreciative whistles when they saw the gift.

"Open your eyes," said Julia.

Chitter now saw the carved tree engraved on the lid.  Julia pushed a metal disk to reveal a hole in the box located in the carved tree trunk.  The latch moved, and the box opened.  When the kit squirrel lifted the lid, the strong aromatic scent of cedar drifted to Bruno's nose. 

Inside the box sat the shirt he wore when he arrived at Redwall.  Somebody had it cleaned and folded.  Chitter reached for the garment, but Julia stopped him.

"I'm so sorry, Chitter.  Badgermom Tassel was right; you've outgrown it.  But I couldn't burn the one thing you had that came from your mother."

Tassel rubbed Chitter's shoulder.  "Treasure that shirt and remember your mother died so you would become a free creature."

Chitter's quivering voice carried a defiant note.  "She lives."

"No Chitter, they killed her.  Your mother served her master as a trusted house servant.  As a former slave, I know what happens to those who betray a trust and I think you know too."

Julia caught the box as it fell from Chitter's paws.  She closed it and placed it atop his footlocker.  The other children reached out to the kit squirrel as he gave into his tears.  Tassel returned to her quarters. 

Bruno hesitated.  He pursued his mate.  When he reached their quarters, he closed the door and locked it.  He grabbed his wife's shoulder and spun her around.  Though he kept his voice low, he allowed his anger to show.  His mate's tears did not melt his heart.

"Now that was cruel.  It does no harm letting him believe his mother lives."

"The truth is painful, husband.  Now he has closure.  I will not have him hold onto a fantasy when I know her fate."

Bruno shook Tassel.  "You don't know her fate.  I found no grave.  What makes you so sure she is dead?"

"When I was a slave, I saw what happened to one that betrayed a trust.  Death took its time and I'll not forget his agony.  I just hope she didn't reveal her son lived."

Tassel never discussed her past.  Yet the hollow sounding voice attested to the veracity of her comments.  Her last statement penetrated his anger. 

"You fear for his safety?"

His mate's tears marred her fur.  "As long as Chitter lives, his master will consider it an insult to his honor.  He must kill him, and I can no longer protect him."

"I will," said Bruno.  "Any attempt should come during the next month.  If nothing happens, his mother died without revealing his escape."

"Then I can rest easy knowing he is safe under your care."

[cairn destop]

Chapter Fourteen
Closing the Summary Journal

Boom . . . Boom . . . Boom . . . Boom . . . Boom.

The Mother Abbot lifted her head off her desk.  For the third night in a row, the Summary Journal served as her pillow.  Still groggy from too little sleep, Robertasin needed more time to awaken.  She swayed like a drunk when she stood.

Boom . . . Boom . . . Boom . . . Boom . . . Boom.

"Take that battering ram away from my door.  Give me a chance to open it."

Mother Abbot Robertasin ran one paw over the disheveled mess that topped her head.  Her other paw tried covering her muzzle as she struggled stifling another in a series of yawns.  Her white nightgown swirled with her movement as she crossed her private quarters.  The cold air did nothing to warm her mood.

As soon as Robertasin slid the deadbolt back, the door opened.  The beast beating on the door shuffled into her quarters.  The old woodchuck made no apology for his intrusion.  He turned his white furred muzzle towards her and addressed her as if she were some disobedient child.

"Are you still working on that Journal?"

"Mister Acrib, I would think you, as Redwall's Chief Historian and Recorder, would appreciate the amount of work I placed into this month's entry."

That got nothing more than a deep harrumph.  He crossed his paws and gave Robertasin a withering look.  "Oh, you have shown me pages of script, but I do tire of chasing after a wayward dibbun that dawdles at her duty."

In her mind, his last comment went too far.  Robertasin's finger jabbed the woodchuck in his chest.  The attack drove Acrib backwards as he tried to avoid the onslaught of her pointy finger.  She never retreated.  Her indignation at his insolent tone proved too much.

"You might be better than double my age, but I am no child you can intimidate."  Her waggling finger flicked his whiskers with every shake.  "You need not like me, but you will accord me the honor and respect my position as Mother Abbot deserves."

The verbally chastised woodchuck stood rooted to the spot.  Acrib muttered an apology while he studied either the pattern in her carpet or his footwear.

"Amazing how words from my past come back haunting me," said Robertasin.  "I need only finish the report, maybe another hour or two at most.  Go downstairs, have breakfast, and when you're done, I should be finished."

This time, Acrib's tone held the proper note of deference.  "Begging your pardon, but the clock is about to chime noon.  Let me return when it is more convenient.  Will you let me know when you're done, Mother Abbot?" 

Robertasin nodded.  She almost laughed at how fast an exit he made.  On hindsight, she might have overreacted, but the fellow had abused his position once too often.  She remained in her front room, staring at the closed door.  Certain the fellow hadn't changed his mind, she returned to her bedroom.

The Summary Journal sat on the desk, open to the last page.  Robertasin refreshed her memory as she read what she had written last night before falling asleep.  She then searched under yesterday's discarded garments until she found her Diary.  After she reviewed several pages, she marked them with a ribbon for further reference.  She lifted her quill.  With a steady paw, she wrote.


* * * * *


Today turned into one of her most memorable days since her elevation to Abbess.  The Abbey welcomed a liberated slave child who would grow up safe within the Abbey's walls.  Two badger pups now had names.  Every warrior returned from the rescue mission unharmed.  Then, like an extra dessert, she exercised her ultimate authority over that vermin badger.

When she relived those moments in her office, Robertasin purred.  Bruno tried to oppose her, but his efforts failed.  He had to comply with the authority of her office, regardless of his opinion.  Once he realized what kind of beast he married, Bruno would eventually thank her.

Robertasin saw no reason for conducting an investigation.  Tassel's abuse of those placed under her care was common knowledge throughout the Abbey.  Bruno's adamant denials supported her belief that his judgment must be impaired.   For the sake of those dibbuns, she must act. 

Despite the admonishments of Healer Shortspike, Robertasin knew her actions were for the betterment of every resident.  Yes, she admitted to a personal interest.  It didn't change the fact that Tassel deserved her fate.  What it did was make her decision an easy one. 

Robertasin went through her normal routine as she prepared for bed.  After she donned her nightshirt, she passed her bed.  Tonight, her desk drew her as she envisioned the final act of this perfect day.  Her anticipation energized her.

The candle acted like a stubborn child when she tried to light it.  After several attempts, the wick caught.  At least the discarded taper lit the fireplace on the first try.  With the desk bathed in light and the room's chill dissipating, she could attend to her daily diary before retiring for the night.

Robertasin opened the book that sat in the center of the desk.  She lifted a quill and dipped it into the ink well.  Each time she scratched her pen across the pages, Robertasin knew her words added to the history of the Abbey.

For once, the diary recorded something important.  Robertasin came to what she considered her first major decision as the leader of Redwall Abbey.  She pulled out chalk and slate as she composed the message she saw as a defining moment.  Satisfied with the wording, she first transcribed her letter into the diary for posterity.  When she finished, a great burden lifted from her shoulders.

She reached into her desk, withdrew a piece of paper, and copied the pertinent words.

To the badger Lord King Meles:

After much consideration, I have decided to rescind the pardon granted the prisoner known as Tassel.  Redwall Abbey cannot abide the presence of a creature convicted of such crimes as murder and enslavement that she willfully admitted doing so many years ago.  I now fear for the safety of those good beasts sheltered within our walls as her cruelty has escalated.  My predecessors may have feared acting, but I shall not avoid my responsibilities.  Since the Abbey is ill designed for administering the appropriate punishment the Law deems proper, I hereby tender an official request that you take custody of the prisoner.  It is my wish that she feel the full weight of woodlander justice.

Please inform me as to when I can expect a properly armed contingent from the Long Patrol and I will have the prisoner made ready. 

Robertasin
Mother Abbot of Redwall

She removed sealing wax, two red ribbons, and the Great Seal of Redwall from its storage place.  She folded the letter and checked that the creases had not marred its appearance.  Satisfied, Robertasin placed the ribbons across the bottom of the letter and added a portion of sealing wax over them.  Her paw applied the Great Seal, making this letter an official document.  The Mother Abbot placed the letter in an envelope and sealed that with her personal signet ring.

The message sat on her desk.  She debated the wisdom of summoning a messenger to her quarters.  Though she saw this as an historic document, it lacked the impetus of immediacy.  Robertasin decided to send it first thing tomorrow morning.  Satisfied, she smothered the lamp's flame and climbed into bed.  Sleep came easy.

A brilliant light interrupted her peaceful slumber.  She knew she extinguished the lamp.  Her senses said otherwise.  Robertasin opened her eyes. 

The lamp over her private writing desk still burned within its glass chimney.  Its intensity eliminated every shadow.  As her eyes adjusted to the light, Robertasin decided she forgot the lamp. She rose, muttering to herself about her carelessness.

Her blood turned cold.  Another creature sat at her desk with his back to her.  A second look identified the intruder as a male mouse.  He must think himself a warrior since he wore a chain mail shirt and a sword.  He held her letter in one paw. 

She shifted her blanket to the side.  Robertasin kept her eyes fixed on the unknown creature as she slipped off the bed.  Her feet made no sound as they landed on the carpet.  If her luck held, she might escape his notice when she left her bedchamber.  Once she unlocked her door, she could summon help.

Her paw hovered above the bedroom doorknob.  Her unwelcomed guest still sat at her desk, studying the letter.  Just as her fingers touched the latch, the mouse spoke.

"I would not do that, Abbess.  We have much to discuss and it would be best if you remained here."

This intruder had her trapped.  If she tried fleeing the room, he could catch her with ease.  A call for help should result in his capture, but her life might end before anyone arrived.  Robertasin tried replying with a confident tone.  Instead, her voice betrayed her growing sense of fear. 

"Strangers are not welcomed in my bedchamber unannounced, sir.  If you have business with me, come by in the light of day when we can talk like civilized creatures."

The mouse did not even turn towards her.  He continued studying the letter she wrote.  Though frightened, Robertasin regained a measure of her confidence when he made no overt action.  If this stranger meant any harm, he had his opportunity.  Instead of lodging his golden sword firmly through her breast, he allowed her to stand.

The unknown mouse replied as if she had voiced her thoughts.  "You are correct, Mother Abbot.  I mean you no harm, but we must discuss this letter." 

Robertasin pondered what this stranger said.  She did not recall ever seeing this mouse at the Abbey.  How did he know about the letter?  She just wrote it.  More important, how did he slip by the guard, and how many times had he invaded her private quarters?  Such question had to wait until later. 

Throughout their exchange, the intruder had not shown his face.  Robertasin decided she must take direct action.  She anticipated no outside assistance.  When she opened her mouth, no words came forth.  The interloper commanded her undivided attention when he spoke.

"You want to know why I'm here.  Let me answer your question by saying you're wrong thinking you alone have power over the badger."

Now she understood.  This strange mouse believed himself the sow's protector.  That knowledge gave her the power of her office.  She had confidence in her actions.  Robertasin confronted her assailant. 

"That is my right as the Mother Abbot," she snarled.  "For the safety of every beast within these walls, I will do what justice demands."

In slow motion, the mouse turned.  His eyes burned with the same intensity as Bruno's did when he challenged her.  Though the mouse remained seated, his very presence dominated the room.  She felt like a naughty dibbun with her paw stuck in the honey jar.  His voice dominated her, reducing her title to insignificance.

"You haven't considered any of the consequences.  Your healer will abandon this Abbey the same day the sow badger leaves.  Your blacksmith will depart with his family within the week.  The boar will not abide in these lands.  You will make him and his children bitter foes of Redwall.  When he leaves, those within the Dormitory will nevermore trust any elder."

He continued in a low voice, yet his eyes bore into her mind.  Those eyes turned into dark pools that drew her very soul into them.  Many emotions flashed within them.  None complimented her.  As much as Robertasin tried, her eyes remained focused on those of the intruder.

"When spring comes and tic fever ravages this land, your apprentice healer might not recognize the disease early enough.  Last time the fever hit, no beast diagnosed the ailment and half the region's creatures died.  Healer Shortspike will save all but those that waited too long for help.

"When summer comes to this Abbey, who will forge the tools you need?  When war comes, and it will one day, shall a blacksmith's hammer provide the weapons needed?  Where is the mighty warrior that will instill confidence in the fearful?  Will he fight for a place that never taught him love or forgiveness?"

Robertasin made a supreme effort to break contact with the warrior's eyes.  Her confidence returned and she marched up to the uninvited guest.  Her voice carried the power of the righteous.  The tremble that shouted weakness disappeared.  Now she matched his contempt.

"You speak of things that might be.  I know what that vermin creature did and I intend correcting a wrong my two predecessors left unchanged.  No honorable beast tolerates her presence.  I will have that filth discarded and her stench cleared from the memories of honorable beasts."

When the mouse stood, he towered over her and his presence filled the room.  "You were told once that as the Mother Abbot, you must set aside your childhood hatreds and act in the best interest of Redwall."   The flat of his paw swung towards her muzzle.

Robertasin bolted upright, the thick blanket slid off her body.  The chilly room made her shiver.  Her eyes probed through the darkened room hunting for the other beast and found nothing.  She climbed out of her warm bed and crossed the dark room as if the very floor contained a dozen adders.  It took her a few moments fumbling with the striker before she had a flame and that flame moved to the lamp's wick.

She set the wick to maximum brightness.  As light filled the room, she noticed the letter.  The envelope had not moved from its assigned place.  The seal remained unbroken.  She continued checking her quarters for the mysterious stranger.  When she opened the drawers on her desk, the Great Seal remained where it belonged.  Her writing implements sat where they should, undisturbed.  She lifted her teacup off the floor and sniffed the spices that flavored her last drink.  A second look confirmed her initial impression.

"I had a bloody nightmare," Robertasin muttered.  "It was nothing more than a stupid dream, of no importance whatsoever."

"You dare to call me a dream, and dismiss what I said as nothing of importance?"

Her heart boomed in her chest like a blacksmith's hammer beating on an anvil.  Every hair on her tail bristled.  The empty mug fell from numb fingers onto her foot.  It rolled across the carpet.  Robertasin spun in place, searching for the elusive mouse.  She stood alone in an empty room.

Something made her snatch the letter.  She knew the unknown intruder and this letter shared a common connector.  So long as she held onto it, she felt safe.  Odd as it seemed, the letter also represented an unknown danger.

Robertasin had to move.  She walked from the desk to the fireplace and back.  As she did, she slapped the letter into her palm with every agitated step.  At no time did she vary her pace.  Her lamp removed every shadow within her bedchamber, and the door to her private residence remained locked from her side.  None could enter.

Whenever she stood before the fireplace or her desk, something made her hesitate.  Robertasin concentrated so hard on today's events that she ceased counting how many times she completed her circular trip.  Her head hurt as she concentrated on the dream and the events that followed. 

She remembered a distant past when Tassel first came to Redwall.  Her thoughts brought back the memories of her parents and the vow she made years ago.  Then Robertasin recalled the words spoken by the warrior mouse.  Her decision came down to why she wrote the letter.  Did she write it as vengeance, or duty?

Once again, Robertasin found herself standing before the fireplace.  With a sharp flick of her wrist, she tossed the letter on the uppermost log.  She watched the flames jump up and consume the letter.  Certain only ashes remained, Robertasin returned to her desk.  She took her chair.

Again, she picked up her quill and drew forth all the accouterments needed to create a formal document.  The words came to her mind as if dictated by another.  She did not question them.  Her sharpened quill flew across the page like leaves before a winter storm.

To the badger Lord King Meles:
To the Council of Ruling Nobles:

After much consideration, I have decided to continue treating the prisoner known as Tassel, with the respect she has earned over her many years of honorable service to Redwall.  When the morning comes, I will announce that her place as our Badgermom shall be secure for so long as I hold the title of Mother Abbot.  It is my wish that you consider this letter a Petition of Clemency.  I present it to you and the Counsel of Ruling Nobles hoping you will reconsider the harsh judgment made so many years ago.  I ask that you find it in your heart to grant Tassel the same rights all free creatures enjoy under your benevolent rule. 

Robertasin
Mother Abbot of Redwall

She signed and sealed the document.  Once more, she extinguished her lamp and the room turned dark.  Robertasin climbed into her bed and pulled the covers tight about her.  As sleep claimed her, she muttered to the deserted room.

"Who am I to argue the wisdom of our founder and guiding spirit, Martin the Warrior?"

[cairn destop]

Epilogue
What Happened Next

The Abbess closed the Summary Journal for the final time, her work done.  Robertasin changed into something more appropriate for a chilly autumn day.  She exited her private quarters.  The guard nodded and she returned his greeting.  Her secretary said nothing, though the old vole did stare at the hallway clock.  She ignored the subtle hint about her late arrival.  With winter approaching, she had little to do.  Redwall Abbey almost ran itself once the last harvest ended.

Robertasin closed the door, uncertain what she should do first.  With the recording of the Summary Journal fresh in her mind, the office brought back painful memories.  For a moment, she paused.  Three weeks earlier, the masked female badger quivered in fear before her.  She recalled her angry words, the horrible threats, and the pleasure she took. 

Her actions embarrassed her.  As the Mother Abbot, she expected better of herself.  Robertasin regretted every spiteful syllable spoken.  It hurt knowing that nothing she did now could change history.  Like the words she wrote, they remained engraved within her mind.

Several pieces of mail sat on her desk.  She picked up the envelopes, examining each.  The reply to her petition for Tassel's clemency had not come.  Robertasin didn't expect such an answer this fast, though she hoped for one.  It took seven days for her messenger to deliver the message. 

Perhaps the badger king had other pressing matters.  Something important vied for the attention of the Counsel of Nobles.  Robertasin considered this a straightforward request, a simple matter.  She needed an acknowledgment of her letter.  Such things took less than an hour to do, and yet two weeks passed without any response.

With each additional day, her confidence waned.  She checked her messages a second time.  Her finger broke each letter's seal and she scanned the contents.  Several merchants announced their anticipated arrival date.  A band of minstrels offered entertainment in exchange for lodging during the upcoming winter months.  The residents would enjoy knowing that, but it held no importance to her as Mother Abbot.

The Abbess approached the large picture window that gave light to her office.  She removed a kerchief from a pocket, and wiped the frost off a pane.  Outside, residents attended to their chores.  Guards patrolled the wall.  Such a soothing scene told her all was as it should be.  She debated the wisdom of working until the dinner bell rang and decided whatever needed her attention could wait another day. 

When she reached Cavern Hole, most residents and guests had just finished lunch.  One by one, they drifted out of the dining area for the camaraderie available in the Common Room.  The staff bustled about as they cleaned the room. 

As she took her accustomed place, a nearby worker rushed up to her table.  The young mole asked what she wanted and then rushed back to the kitchen.  Just as the mole withdrew, an older hedgehog climbed the stairs.  She placed the warm cup of tea within her reach.  The hedgehog didn't leave until Robertasin dismissed her.  She held the cup and savored the lemony scent. 

Her eyes scanned the room, identifying the few residents still enjoying a late lunch.  One table caught her attention.  Under one of the chandeliers, Tassel and Bruno shared a table.  Two bassinets sat close to the masked female. 

That brought back a pleasant memory.  Ten hours after proclaiming her intentions in private, Robertasin stood before the assembled residents.  Her announcement confirmed Tassel's role as Redwall's Badgermom.  She almost laughed when Bruno fell back into his chair.  His dumbfounded look started that day on a high note. 

For the next week, all seemed to go well.  The squirrel, Chitter, worked hard doing numerous chores for several days, including a good dusting of her office.  Then she heard a disturbing comment from another resident.  According to Foremole's wife, Chitter had been restricted to the Abbey.  The young squirrel could not leave the building for any reason. 

Robertasin didn't believe it, at first.  Then she saw Chitter standing at a window with a wistful expression.  Outside, the other Abbey children frolicked.  She said nothing to the kit squirrel, but did hunt down the two badgers.  She found Bruno first, and pulled him aside since she wanted their conversation to remain private.

"Bruno, is there a reason why Tassel keeps Chitter inside?  Has he done something to earn such a harsh punishment?  He seems like a well-behaved squirrel."

Tassel's mate appeared tense, but responded in a respectful voice.  "She worries for his safety, and I support her decision."

"Now that's a strange word.  You punish a child for something they did, not because they might get hurt."

Robertasin pressed her inquiry.  Bruno resisted.  She persisted, demanding an explanation that would satisfy her as the Mother Abbot.  Bruno paced the room, checked the hallway for any inquisitive ears, and motioned her closer.  His voice remained so low that she almost missed his response.

"Tassel thinks his former master might try to kill him.  Though I find it hard to believe, I trust my mate.  The restriction is temporary, but it does seem prudent to me."

That explanation stunned her.  Though never made public, Robertasin confided Bruno's suspicions with Captain Karteel.  He, in turn, selected several trustworthy guards who understood the meaning of discretion.  Once Captain Karteel assured her that the child could be protected without anyone knowing about the heightened security, she had her secretary summon both badgers to her office for a private meeting.

Robertasin didn't allow either badger to speak.  "You need only know I am aware of your concerns and have taken appropriate action.  However, you will allow Chitter outside this Abbey.  Either you tell him, Tassel, or I will at tomorrow's dinner."

Chitter got to go outside, though not beyond the outer walls or atop the battlements.  He didn't mind since the Abbey grounds included an orchard.  Like any young squirrel, he flew through the branches with reckless abandonment.  While he played, the kit squirrel never noticed the presence of an armed escort.  Neither did any of the other residents.

So far, the guards had not detected any evidence of an assassin at Redwall.  Robertasin did not accept such an assessment.  She ordered Captain Karteel to continue the heightened security and Chitter's secret guards for another full month.  Regardless of what happened, she would have an interesting entry for next month's Summary Journal. 

As Robertasin sipped her tea, a gaggle of preschool dibbuns ran across the room, racing toward the hallway door.  Of the half-dozen younger residents, only Chitter lived with the Badgermom.  The Abbess smiled, seeing the young squirrel integrating so well into Abbey life.

Chitter still had the irritating habit of calling Bruno "lord" or "master" whenever he feared some punishment.  Bruno remained patient with their newest charge.  Gradually Chitter gained more confidence.  With each day's passing, Chitter laughed and smiled.

At the table where the orphans took their meals, Tassel nursed one of her pups.  Though the female badger's face remained hidden, Robertasin imagined the contented look she must have.

"Martin the warrior was right; I must consider what is best for this Abbey.  My hatred has blinded me to all the good you have done, Tassel.  I know better now.  Perhaps, some time in the future, you will be able to forgive me.  Maybe then, we can become true friends.  I can always hope."

THE END