TRIBUNAL OF REDWALL --- No Comments Here

[cairn destop]

Travel to Redwall

They left the warehouse and stood in the middle of a deserted road.  The area remained dark as none of the area's street lamps were lit.  Captain Greypaw sent two hares forward as scouts.  When they returned, each said they did not see any resident moving through the area.  The usual peace officers who patrolled this section of town appeared to be missing.  Satisfied that none knew of their presence, he quick marched his unit to the harbor.

Captain Greypaw had no trouble locating his eventual destination.  The raft floated at the end of a pier that needed extensive repairs.  A glance to the next pier showed another four ships in various stages of loading or unloading.  The lights did not illuminate their area.

His unit rushed down the pier and clambered aboard.  The crew of otters snapped to their assigned tasks without a word spoken.  Sailors heaved the heavy lines from the dock to the deck while other crewmen secured the gear.  Those on the pier leaped onto the departing raft.  The crew raised a dark sail while one otter placed the sweep in its proper place.  With eight otters rowing, the craft made a swift departure.  While the otter at the helm tacked into the wind, the Skipper kept his spyglass trained on Salamandastron.

After a long pause, the old otter lowered his spyglass.  The fellow walked over to the cabin that filled the central portion of the raft and hung it by the open doorway where his squad stood.  Then the Skipper approached him.

"Major Greypaw, we're beyond sight of land now and there's no evidence we were spotted.  Did you run into anyone after you left the fortress?"

Corporal Sweetleaf's jaw dropped.  "I suppose congratulations are in order, sir.  I didn't know you received a promotion."

Greypaw laughed.  "It's an old mariner tradition.  A vessel can have but one captain, so any army officer of that rank receives a temporary promotion of one grade for the duration of the voyage.  If we stayed longer than a day, I would have the insignia on my uniform until we reached shore.  Not worth the bother for a trip measured in hours."

He faced the otter.  "Our Prime Minister is thorough.  He paid somebody to miss the street lamps in the warehouse district and scheduled a major disturbance at a nearby tavern.  I'm sure the brawl will attract every gossip and peacekeeper in the area.  None noticed your raft or our arrival."

The otter nodded.  "Aye, that ferret is a crafty one.  There's just a few rules for you while we're at sea.  We intend to run dark until morning, so no lanterns.  I'm confining all of you to this cabin.  My crew can do their jobs better if they know the deck is clear."

All night the craft journeyed north.  When faint hints of light outlined the horizon, the Skipper ordered the sail removed.  The crew spent the next hour stowing the black sail and replaced it with a white one.  Just as the first sliver of the new day's sun peeked over the world's edge, the Skipper ordered the raft shoreward.

A steady breeze sent the craft skimming across the waves as the otters steered a course into the rising sun.  Despite the glare, every sailor on deck welcomed the promised warmth of the new day.  Another hour passed before the growing sound of breakers to the fore signaled the end of their voyage.  When the noise became a dull roar, the raft raced shoreward.

For just a heartbeat, the raft's timbers squealed in protest as it grounded onto the sandy beach.  With the craft resting above the tide line, Captain Greypaw exited the cabin.  He heaved a sigh of relief as his paws touched firm ground once more. 

The badger sow staggered between the two guards holding chains running from either end of the yoke.  Several times she let out a loud yawn and blinked her eyes as the sun rose higher.  She gave herself a mighty shake.  Big mistake since the cuffs about her wrists and the wooden yoke scored her flesh.  On a deserted beach, her yelp sounded like a mighty clap of thunder.

Over the first two hours inland, the soldiers tried covering ground but the chained badger slowed their progress.  The hares prodded the prisoner with their weapons, which had her move a little faster.  Then the female badger would trip over some obstruction and the unit waited until she regained her footing.  The privates became irate with their prisoner and did not hesitate heaping both verbal and physical abuse on their helpless captive.

"Call a halt, Captain."  Corporal Sweetleaf's whispered comment caught Greypaw off guard, but he recognized an inflection which warned him of some unperceived problem.

"Captain, we don't have enough personnel to continue like this.  With three soldiers on the prisoner and the two of us leading, we have just one scout and one rear guard."

Greypaw showed no reaction as he sipped water from his canteen.  His second took this as a form of tacit agreement.  She offered her recommended solution.  For several moments he discussed the situation with her.  Corporal Sweetleaf made her way to where the badger reclined.  She dismissed the privates and approached the prisoner.

"Tassel, I'm going to release your paws from the yoke and have the chain run down to your ankles, like we had during our training sessions.  It should help you travel a bit easier.  No chain between your ankles, that should avoid any further mishaps."

When one paw was freed of the yoke, the badger reached up to her muzzle and scratched.  She purred.  "You cannot imagine how irritating it is having an itch you cannot touch."  Tassel offered no resistance as the chains were reattached, luxuriating in the ability to relieve her distress.  "Is there any chance of ditching this yoke?"

As the Corporal continued making the final adjustments to her restraints, her voice hardened.  "Your wrists go on the yoke at nightfall or if you give us any trouble.  We need you mobile, not comfortable."

When she finished, Captain Greypaw bellowed out his orders.  Every hare rose to their feet.  For a moment, Vindicarr and the badger stared at each other as if preparing for some upcoming battle.  The former general left the prisoner and moved alongside the Captain.  The fellow hummed an old favorite marching tune and kept pace with the rhythm.

"You seem in grand form, General.  Just wish I had an opportunity advising you earlier about our sudden departure.  I had my orders."

"Not something worth worrying about, Captain.  After thirty years in the army, I've been subject to, and have issued similar orders."  Their companionable silence continued for another dozen paces before the brown hare spoke again.  "Ever wonder why a soldier would retire in a time of war, Captain?"

"It did seem . . . odd.  I would think your talents were best served on the battlefield."

The former general smirked.  "Speaking of battlefields, did you know your badger and I share a common past?" 

He stared at the brown hare, hoping he would continue his story without any prompting.  Vindicarr complied to his unspoken request. 

"Oh we didn't meet, not personally.  But my unit was involved in the first action on the unnamed island where she lived.  My unit got the north shore by the forest; the Long Patrol took the dockside town where our lady prisoner made quite a name for herself.  Pity she got away."

"With all due respect, it doesn't answer the question about your retirement, sir."

For a moment, Vindicarr remained silent.  "Perhaps the heaviest fighting was in the small port city, but the huge estate we captured had a heavy contingent of pirate warriors.  I learned the hard way fighting bandits half my years can be a dangerous job."

Vindicarr patted his hip.  "My injuries took several weeks healing and in the interim, the war had moved on to another island.  Then some upper echelon decided my former post would be a better fit for my talents.  I disagreed; a garrison command is like babysitting restless dibbuns.  High Command gave me two choices, accept or retire."

"I know what you mean about fighting," said Greypaw.  "Sometimes a skilled opponent dies due to a bit of bad luck.  You wonder if the next fight will be one where the luck favors the other warrior."

The former general nodded.  "As a Long Patrol officer, I have no doubt your sword has drunk long and often in many a bloody battle.  I had the misfortune of being in the regulars throughout my career.  The Long Patrol always stole the glory while the regulars followed their orders.  But that's the past, and I have a date in some Abbey courtroom.  The outcome will be no less bloody, but our weapons will be nothing more than words."

For two days the group marched.  With her paws in a more relaxed pose, the prisoner moved at whatever pace the squad set.  Whenever they halted during the day, the prisoner spent her time resting.  By the third day, her continued good behavior had her paws removed from the yoke at bedtime.  That first night, she and Private Kindrell dueled for the title of loudest snoring beast, much to the dismay of the others.

Another three days passed without incident as the unit traveled in a southerly direction.  When he announced the final stop, every soldier proceeded to their assigned task.  Tassel remained standing, her muzzle pointing into the northern wind as everyone scurried about setting up camp.

Corporal Sweetleaf approached the badger.  "The way you're sniffing, one would think you caught the scent of some other inhabitant or traveler, but we haven't seen anyone since we left those otters on the beach."

"Oh I'm catching a scent all right, but it's of no living creature.  Tell your Captain he better pull out another blanket.  We're going to get snow tonight, and a lot of it."

"There is an extra chill, but what makes you think it will snow?"

"I have lived my whole life outdoors and in a climate further north than this.  You learn the smell of snow and the feel of an approaching storm.  This is a heavy one."

The doe didn't respond.  Instead, she assisted the badger out of her backpack.  While the badger rummaged through the gear, the Corporal drove a stake into the ground and secured the prisoner's chain.  Moving a short distance back, she watched as Tassel raised her small shelter.  Satisfied she couldn't go anywhere without some guard noticing, Sweetleaf approached her commander.

"Captain, I think you better hear what Tassel has to say, it's important."

"What have I told you about giving a name to our prisoner?"

"Sorry sir, but according to," and here she hesitated until Captain Greypaw turned towards her, "our prisoner, we're in for a heavy snowstorm tonight.  May I suggest we alert everyone to the possibility?"

"I'll admit its cold enough, but I've never known of snow coming this early in the season.  Even if it does, I doubt there will be anything more than a heavy dusting; whatever falls will melt before we're packed tomorrow morning.  No need worrying the others."

That night the familiar nightmare came again to Captain Greypaw.  Once more in his dream he had his weapon drawn.  The keening wails of the dead and dying surrounded him.  Though he saw a cloudless sky and a fiery sun, he experienced a freezing sensation that dug deep within him. 

His opponent, a male fox, displayed great skill.  Each time Greypaw made a sweep or lunge, his opponent parried the blow.  Once or twice he managed to defeat his opponent's blade, but the metal breastplate the enemy officer wore deflected the killing blow.  A quick counterattack forced him a pace back as the two continued their duel.

As they circled, the fox caught his foot on a stone.  For just an instant, his deadly blade dipped.  Greypaw lunged at his opponent while pushing the fox's sword arm away from him with his free paw.  With his weapon now resting against the fox's unprotected back, he shoved the sword upward. 

Lieutenant Greypaw stared into the face of his opponent as the blade plunged deep within his enemy's body.  There was a sharp intake of air and a look of disbelief on the fox's countenance as the inevitable dawned on him. 

Time stopped.  Greypaw recalled every detail, every sense engraving this moment on his mind with a permanence he could not deny.  He smelled the lingering scent of shampoo being overpowered by the stench of death.  The slow exhale dominated every sound and the following silence frightened him.  Fingers felt the strength within his opponent's arm fail.  His eyes noticed the sheen of every tuff of fur on the fox's face and how it shifted color whenever the wind ruffled it. 

Then Greypaw experienced the true horror of personal warfare, watching the life leave his opponent's eyes.  At no time did the enemy warrior utter a cry as he breathed his last.  Releasing his grip, the fox soldier slid off the his blade and slumped lifeless to the earth.  No longer did Greypaw feel the warmth of the summer sun; he felt the cold of his opponent's grave.

Greypaw awoke.   He panted in the darkness as a bone-numbing chill enveloped his body.  Instead of a quiet night, his ears detected a banshee standing just beyond the tent's flap.  With trembling paws, he crawled to the closure and threw back the covering.

Outside, winter had struck with a vengeance.  Before bedtime he gazed upon rolling hills of dry grassland.  An impenetrable white nothingness existed beyond the confines of his tent.  Snow swirled through the camp shrouding anything greater than three or four paces from his tent.  The embers of a fire were nothing more than a bump under the heavy blanket of snow.  Already it buried one side of his tent as the winds built heavy drifts.

Exiting his tent, he set off for the one place he preferred avoiding.  It took only a dozen steps, but in that time the snow obliterated whatever tracks he left.  Unlike his tent where the snows were mounting on one side, just the back half of the badger's tent was covered.  He circled to the front and soon had the flap untied.  In one fluid movement, he hurled back the cover, darted inside, and closed it.

In an instant, total darkness returned, yet he sensed the sow had awakened.  Though he couldn't see her, Greypaw's eyes remained fixated on the spot where he expected her.  Neither spoke for several moments as the winds outside sang a dirge.

"Tell me, sow, how do you sleep at night?"

"Since I come from a colder land and have lived all my life outside, my fur is much thicker than yours.  The blanket you allowed me is more than sufficient, though I cannot keep my paws and feet warm enough because of the chain.  The metal draws the cold like lodestone does iron."

Having responded to his question, the badger prisoner said nothing more.  While the winds outside shrieked, the space within the tent remained quiet.  Greypaw withdrew and retraced his steps.  Just as he prepared to reenter his tent, he spoke to the fierce winds.  "You misunderstood my question; I wasn't talking about the weather."

Instead of abating, the storm intensified.  In the morning the snows pelted the soldiers as they packed their gear.  No fire could be lit as either the wind would snuff it out or the tinder turned soggy from the swirling snows.  After several abortive efforts, Captain Greypaw had everyone prepare for departure.  Blankets remained out and everyone wrapped them about their bodies, hoping they could evade the insistent chill.

When the Captain drew close to Corporal Sweetleaf, he saw the badger standing at the ready.  Ignoring the prisoner, Captain Greypaw issued his orders for the day's march.  At first the doe hesitated, though she did not voice any challenge, she complied.  The prisoner's paws were once more shackled to the yoke despite her pleas about being cold. 

Once his unit was ready, the Captain shouted over the wind.  "According to my map, we should reach the Abbey in about two hours, just in time for a late breakfast or an early lunch.  So let's get moving; a hot meal and a warm fire await us."

[cairn destop]

In From the Cold

The storm continued throughout the night and showed no signs of stopping.  Captain Greypaw found the experience of packing his gear much like pushing himself through sheets hanging on a laundry line.  One moment he saw something, the next it laid hidden under a layer of snow.  Unlike an enjoyable childhood memory, the prospect of his command wandering off like scattered sheep galvanized him into action.

The Captain withdrew a whistle from his uniform vest pocket and gave it three long blasts.  He counted to twenty and blew it one more time.  Now came the hard part, waiting for his command to respond.  Like spectral ghosts from some troubadour's horror tale, shapes materialized around him as the others answered his call.  Good fortune smiled on him this time as none wandered too far from camp.

"Empty your backpacks and put on every garment you're carrying.  Corporal Sweetleaf, when you finish, see to the prisoner's needs."

All hurried as the temperature continued its swift downward spiral.  Corporal Sweetleaf secured a rope around the former general's waist while he fastened the other end to a member of his squad.  In rapid succession, a series of ropes belayed each soldier to another.  With everyone linked and Corporal Sweetleaf holding the prisoner's chain, nobody could loose contact with the others.

The snow deepened.  Mounded drifts standing higher than them, forced the unit off the stone road as they pressed forward.  The prospect of a warm meal acted as a siren's call; the squad continued moving, always keeping the northern wind at their backs. 

Without the sun's presence, time could not be measured.  The swirling snow and the overcast skies removed all reference points.  They marched, each following the path left by the one in front.  When one private tripped, he recognized the obstruction his foot uncovered.  "Captain, I found a road marker, but I can't read it."

Everybody gathered about the protruding stones and soon eager paws worked clearing the milestone.  As the indicator became visible everyone groaned.

"The wind must have shifted.  We've been going in the wrong direction and are now a good dozen clicks from where we camped last night."

Captain Greypaw felt as dismayed as the rest of his unit and understood their disgusted expressions.  He barked out commands.  In quick order two privates located the roadway.  Using the butt end of their spears, they maintained contact with the stony surface.  Now they knew the correct direction and set out with a determined step.  Whenever snow drifts blocked their course, instead of skirting them, they shoveled a narrow path so at least one soldier always remained in contact with the paved pathway.

Progress remained slow under whiteout conditions.  Each soldier continued moving forward without knowing if they were going up or down some hill.  At one point the winds subsided enough so the squad could see further than the usual three paces.  Up ahead Captain Greypaw glimpsed their destination, a mighty fortress built of red stones.  Like an exotic dancer who enticed the unwary into some seedy tavern, the welcoming vision evaporated when the storm returned in all its fury.

Darkness came and still the Abbey remained nothing more than a distant illusion.  If the unencumbered  soldiers were having problems moving through such deep snows, the fettered prisoner suffered even more.  Several times the female badger fell and picking her up proved more difficult each time since their paws turned numb from the frigid weather. 

None spoke as teeth gnashed if anyone unclenched their jaw.  Snow soaked their garments and the continual drop in temperature had all uniforms coated in a thin layer of ice.  The sound of the crunching ice competed with the wind.

By now the translucent light of day had faded.  Darkness, as well as the heavy snow, isolated each member of the unit as they pushed onward.  As the lead private probed for the road, his spear struck wood.  Though nobody cheered, he knew the bridge spanning the stream meant their destination was but a short distance away, perhaps no more than a hundred paces.  Every soldier pushed themselves even harder.  Like his command, the Captain anticipated the warm fire that awaited their arrival.

One by one the hares started across.  They walked single file along the trail carved by those before them.  Just as the scout's spear shaft again struck stone, the badger staggered out of line.  He wanted to shout a warning, but the cold slowed down his reaction time.  Her foot missed the bridge and the prisoner toppled into the frigid water.

Corporal Sweetleaf skimmed across the icy wood while her feet sought something that could arrest her movement.  When her heels struck the raised siding, her uncontrolled slide halted.  The chain she had wrapped around her wrist bit her like an enraged adder, but the doe hare held onto the chain. 

Her screams alerted the other hares as they converged on her voice.  One private assisted the doe and together they drew the chain towards them.  With enough slack, the two could stand.  While they struggled with the metal leash, Captain Greypaw led the rest of the squad to the Abbey side of the stream.  He joined the other soldiers as they hacked at the ice encrusted stream.  He had to step into the water as his command cleared a channel for the struggling female badger.

After much pushing and pulling, his unit managed to get the drenched female badger to shore.  Captain Greypaw considered it providential that none fell victim to the icy waters.  A violent shake by the prisoner yanked the leash out of the doe's paws.  The chain then transformed into a metal snake, its link fangs striking several of them before the Corporal could once again establish a firm grip.

Tassel vomited.  Using the last dry towel, Sweetleaf patted down the head of a badger shaking harder than any hare.  The Corporal started to dry the prisoner's body. 

Greypaw shouted.  "We have no time.  Just tuck that towel around her head and we can do a proper job inside."

With everyone accounted for, Captain Greypaw led his troop along a path ending at Redwall's gate.   When a wooden door materialized before the Captain, he halted.  One by one, the remaining members of his unit gathered at the closed gate.  They reached their destination, but the residents secured the gate for the night and no sentry answered his hail.

A private used the butt end of his spear as a battering ram.  Two others followed his example and used the hilt of their swords.  Each hare struck the door hoping the noise would attract the attention of some inhabitant.  If none heard his shout, he had doubts about anyone hearing such feeble knockings.

As the wind continued flaying them, the Captain spotted a short cord sheathed in leather dangling off to the side.  Twice his trembling paws refused to grasp it.  Once he trapped the frozen rope between two paws, he gave a firm yank, which set some distant bell peeling.  Four times he rang the unknown bell before the cord slid from his grasp.

Just as he wondered if another effort at trapping the dangling cord might prove successful, he detected the sound of wood scrapping against wood.  An aperture opened on the far side of the door as a brilliant beam of light pierced the darkness.  As he turned towards the light, a form blocked it.

"What manner of beast seeks entry to Redwall on a night like this?  Step forward and show yourselves."

Too cold to give a proper response, Captain Greypaw approached the apparition.  When he drew nearer, the shadowy form held out a lantern, which illuminated several of his soldiers.  The silhouetted creature retreated and beckoned his command to the doorway.

"Redwall is always willing to offer a warm berth and a full belly to any traveler.  Come inside and I'll inform our Father Abbot hares from Fiery Mountain seek sanctuary from this weather."

One by one, they moved through the gate and into an open passageway.  Though the snow continued falling, the wooden barrier and stone walls kept the wind at bay.  Captain Greypaw crossed the threshold and beheld the gatekeeper.  The female hedgehog stood a bit taller than him, garbed in a heavy woolen coat.  If it hadn't been for her exposed head spikes, he would not know what species she represented.

"Follow me; I'll light your way to the Abbey."  With those words, she ran down the stony corridor.  The gatekeeper ran so fast the light receded until it reminded him of a distant star.  By the time everyone reached the end of the tunnel, the female hedgehog had crossed the wide courtyard and stood atop a low stairway before another building.  Without the howling wind, he could hear the voices of those assembled at the Abbey's entrance.

"If we have guests," growled an unknown male voice, "where are they?  No creature would dawdle on a night like this."

"I thought they were right behind me, Father Abbot.  Never knew I could outdistance hares, even on the best of days."

Captain Greypaw heard every creature murmuring when the gatekeeper said hares.  No doubt the Abbey residents knew the presence of hares could only mean that they were bringing news about the war.  Though Redwall and its surrounding region had not suffered from any of the many pirate raids, some must have been familiar with them. 

When King Meles announced the formation of an alliance to combat marauding pirates, the Father Abbot had declined the monarch's offer.  Redwall preferred their independence.  He understood the inhabitants reluctance to subject themselves to the dictates of a creature they considered too distant from their homes.  They might think King Meles honorable,  but the badger lord was unfamiliar with their problems or concerns. 

Based on what he learned about the Abbey, this didn't mean they unilaterally ignored the King's call for assistance.  Once war had been declared and the Abbey beasts learned of its noble purpose, many enlisted.  Even the Abbey's champion had signed up for what many considered an honorable quest.  Captain Greypaw would have liked meeting this warrior as the stories he heard at Fiery Mountain said he carried the legendary Sword of Martin.

As curious residents shuffled forward, former General Vindicarr and the other hares joined their commander.  They stepped through the Abbey's open doorway.  In quick succession, Greypaw's unit followed him into the warm foyer. 

Each hare quivered so hard their paws couldn't work the buttons of their coats.  Blankets draped over shoulders during their long trek to the Abbey were now frozen, stuck to the hare's fur despite their continuous shaking.  Thick ice coated each of the soldier's heads and plastered their long ears against the fur on their faces.  None responded to the resident's inquiries as jaws remained clinched in an effort to keep from chipping a tooth or biting their tongue.

Corporal Sweetleaf entered the Abbey as the last member of his squad.  She held onto a chain which trailed outside.  She gave a firm tug and their prisoner approached the door.  With a loud crash, their prisoner collided with the doorframe.  Twice more their prisoner smashed into the opening trying to enter before turning sideways.  Greypaw wondered why the doorway proved such an obstacle.  A slight turn would allow the yoked captive to enter the warm building, yet she acted as if such a thought beyond her comprehension.

It didn't take long.  Based on everyone's facial expression, Greypaw knew they recognized the prisoner as a female badger.  Though the fettered sow duplicated the Abby's Badgermom in coloration, the assembled woodlanders whispered about her lack of a tail.  None could see the face of the chained badger as ice sealed the towel hood to the wooden yoke.  Only an occasional puff of air gave credence that she breathed.

His mind refused to believe what his eyes saw.  Despite a layer of ice covering the towel over the prisoner's head, no outside indication showed that she felt the bitter cold.  She remained upright just a few paces past the still open doorway, oblivious to all around her.  She continued her sluggish approach until she bumped into one of the other shivering hares.

"Will somebody close the door," the Father Abbot shouted.  As the gatekeeper hustled to do the Father Abbot's bidding, the shrew continued issuing orders.  "By all the Eternals, let's get our visitors into the kitchen.  Once we fire up a few of the ovens, we'll have them toasty warm in no time flat."

Most of the crowd parted so the still trembling hares could proceed to the warmth of the kitchen.  A few approached with a helping paw.  From above, a strong male voice shouted down at them causing an immediate halt.  The unknown resident bellowed his warning a second time.

"Whatever you do, keep the prisoner away from those fires."

[cairn destop]

A Chilly Reception

He leaned back in his chair, placed his book on the table, and checked the mantle clock.  Almost time for bed.  His mind tried to find the right word to describe this day and settled on boring.  For any healer, that one word defined the best kind of day.  It said none suffered either a serious injury or died while under his care.

Last night's unexpected snow storm continued to howl outside his private quarters.  The Captain of the Guards cancelled sentry duty due to the near whiteout conditions.  The Father Abbot told the Gatekeeper she could keep the main entrance shut.  Young and old alike stayed inside and as close to the common room's fireplace as possible.  With the exception of a few elders seeking painkillers for their arthritis, none disturbed his solitude.

The healer lifted his spectacles off his muzzle until they rested atop his head.  He kneaded the area between his eyes and checked the time once more.  The day didn't end until the final bell, more than two hours from now.  Perhaps the Father Abbot would accept his challenge to a game of Siege.  A good game seemed like the perfect way to end a quiet day.

A trip from his private quarters always took him through the Infirmary.  Habit had him check the hallway for any resident seeking his help.  Though the rooms should be empty, he opened each door in turn.  Nobody sat in any of the examination rooms.  He passed the last door and made for the stairway down to the main level.

What is causing all that commotion?  Sounds like everyone decided to go outside for a night stroll. 

He hastened his pace until he stood opposite the marble stairway.  From here, he could observe the crowd.  His paw reached up and he adjusted his glasses.  Most of the residents filled the corridors leading to the door.  A few, including the Father Abbot, stood near the center of the main entrance foyer.

They had visitors who braved this unholy weather.  Seven hares stood in the lobby.  Even from his elevated observation point, he knew these visitors needed his attention.  An eighth hare passed over the threshold, this one holding a chain.  The final guest entered the room after a bit of difficulty. 

His keen medical eye revealed the danger even as he heard Father Draccon issue his orders.  He must act, and fast.  The healer shouted down to those assembled around their guests.  Nobody responded to his warning.  He yelled even louder.  This time he had their attention.

The healer raced down the stairway, his sandals slapping each step in turn.  He reached the switchback and now faced the gathered crowd.  None had moved in the short time it took him to reach the main level.  The crowd parted and he rushed forward.  Then the Father Abbot stepped between him and the latest arrivals.

"Mister Fazbee, our guests are freezing.  I may not be a healer, but even I know if somebody is cold, you should warm them."

"Do that Father Abbot and you'll kill the prisoner.  As Redwall's healer, you will just have to accept my judgment in this matter."

The silence became deafening.  Healer Fazbee cinched the housecoat he wore before confirming the Father Abbot's order regarding the kitchen fires.  This foyer turned into an extension of his Infirmary where he commanded.  He selected several elders, assigning two helpers for each hare.  These elders came forward and led the frozen hares to the kitchen.

However, the doe holding the prisoner's chain issued a deep growl when the two elders approached.  Her fingers gripped the chain while her other paw tried freeing her weapon.  He motioned the elders to stand back.  He snagged the chain and with a gentle tug, pried it out of the hare's clenched fist.  Then he rested his paws on her shoulders, keeping her shaking to a minimum and her questing paw away from her weapon.

"Your prisoner needs immediate medical attention or she will die.  If you would like to accompany her to the Infirmary, I can arrange it."

At the doe's nod, the Healer turned towards the on-looking residents.  He called to Henrietta and her two hedgehog companions.  All three teens drew closer.  He placed the doe under Henrietta's care, instructing her to follow him to the infirmary.

"Dale, go into the kitchen and get me the biggest pot of boiling water you can carry.  Take it to Room Seven."

One hedgehog followed the elders towards the kitchen.

"Egress, you and I must carry this one upstairs.  But there is one thing I must emphasize; whatever you do, be as gentle as you can."

"Sir, I might work with the blacksmith, but I'm not all brawn and no brains.  Unless I'm mistaken that's a badger.  Her fur's a lot thicker than mine if she can withstand this kind of weather without it affecting her."

Healer and hedgehog took positions on opposite sides of the sow badger.  Together, the two lifted the prisoner, cradling the unresponsive badger between them as they carried her upstairs.  As they reached the first landing, he caught a glimpse of the hare and vole climbing the same marble staircase, but at a much slower rate. No time to dawdle.  He didn't need to explain himself, but speaking his thoughts aloud sometimes helped him focus on the emergency.

"Hypothermia comes in three phases.  We all experience the first one.  If we are rational, we come inside when cold and suffer no ill effects.  Those hares are in phase two, which is when the affected beast shivers so hard they find other tasks too difficult.  I'll check later, but they might have a minor case of frostbite.  Give them time by the fireplace, and they will recover."

Egress reached the Infirmary room marked with a bronze seven on the door.  A gentle push with his foot and the door swung inward.  They shuffled into the room sideways, careful not to jar the prisoner or bang the yoke on the doorframe.

"This sow is entering the third stage of hypothermia," said Healer Fazbee.  "At this point, her body has figured out she is losing too much body heat, so it has stopped shivering and is now initiating its final, and most desperate measure.  It's shutting down.  One by one, her organs will cease functioning.  Eventually, either the lungs or heart will fail and when that happens, the chances of saving her drops to near zero."

"That's all fine and dandy, Healer, but it doesn't explain why we're treating such a strong beast like a glass vase.  To my reckoning, it seems you would be rushing this one into the kitchen first if she's so bad off."

"Strange as it seems, heat is even deadlier.  Any sudden shock, such as an abrupt increase in temperature, could cause a heart seizure.  In her present condition, I don't know if I could get it to restart.  Warming her will be a very dangerous operation.  Do it too slow, she dies from the cold; do it too fast, she dies of heart failure."

Together, the healer and hedgehog sat the sow badger on a metal table.  They released their grip and stepped back a pace.  Healer Fazbee watched his patient for several seconds and let out a sight of satisfaction.  A quick examination of the yoke revealed it had been locked.  He cursed.  After lowering his glasses, he sent Egress downstairs for every key the hares carried.

As the hedgehog left, Henrietta escorted the still shivering doe into the room.  The vole led the hare to a stool next to the fireplace.  Healer Fazbee rushed to the hare and searched her backpack while the vole threw another log onto the fire.  He found nothing more than a few soggy rations.  As Henrietta stripped the hare, he searched each sodden garment.

A series of bells began pealing.  Henrietta tilted her head and when the final note sounded, turned toward the door.  Her paw hadn't yet reached the latch when he called her.

"Just where do you think you're going, young lady?  I have no apprentice and I'll need some assistance.  Since you're female, I do believe my patients will feel far more comfortable with you here."

"Sir, that was the Dibbun Bell, I'm expected back in the Dormitory.  Anyway, I have no interest in becoming a healer."

"I'm not asking you to become my apprentice; I simply need another set of paws.  Lady Pellanore will understand once I tell her why you're here.  Now start rubbing that hare down with those towels."

Henrietta stared in the direction of his pointing finger and darted to the indicated door.  She found herself standing before a supply cabinet filled with sheets, towels and blankets.  While she grabbed several of the larger ones, Healer Fazbee paced the room.  He glanced over at his other patient who remained where he left her.

A sharp knock on the door had him running over and sticking his head outside the room.  When he closed the door, he held a large key ring.  Healer Fazbee inserted one key after another into the yoke's lock until the right one produced a loud snap and removed the confining yoke.

A wide-eyed Henrietta inquired.  "Where did you learn about how that thing works?"

"My dear girl, before coming to Redwall I lived by the Tisenit Swampland where bounty hunters were forever leading some hapless vermin bandit away in one of these contraptions.  Removing one became second nature for a Healer, or his apprentice, in our town."

While the vole returned to tending the hare, the Healer removed the badger's other restraints and with gentle movements, helped the sow badger recline.  Then he went about the task of erecting a tent over his patient's head.  Another knock interrupted his work.  When he opened the door, Dale carried a pot of boiling water, which he placed on a wheeled bench.  Healer Fazbee rolled the bench until the pot sat under the tent.  He almost laughed when he saw the vole's expression, than remembered she knew nothing of medicine.  He positioned a camp stove below the pot, which kept the water near boiling, before explaining his actions.

"If I am to keep her lungs working, this badger needs warm, moist air.  Too dry and she will lose more body heat, and she can ill afford it.  Another benefit to putting this steaming water near her head is it will help warm her blood."

With a deft move, the healer sliced the prisoner's garments off and laid several blankets over her body.  He gave Henrietta a sharp snarl when she appeared ready to abandon the doe hare and help him give the badger a vigorous rubdown.  He scooped up an armful of fresh towels from the supply room, hurried to the door, and handed them to a waiting elder.  Several moments later, they were brought back steaming hot.  The Healer then exchanged the now sodden blankets covering his patient with the heated towels.

"Shouldn't we try getting her blood circulating by rubbing her arms and legs," asked Henrietta.

The healer lowered his glasses as he examined the reclining badger.  "The coldest blood is in her arms and legs.  We'll have to warm them using the hot towels, but without too much movement.  It would force the coldest blood into her heart, which could shock her into cardiac arrest."

Just as he finished explaining the badger's precarious situation, there came a hard shudder from the patient.  Then the body stilled.  Moving quickly, the Healer removed a heart tube from a nearby drawer and after several aborted attempts, placed it on the badger's chest.  He stayed in that position for a moment before he stood.  For the first time that night, he sensed an improvement in his patient.

"Her heart beats and her lungs still work."  The healer wiped his forehead, removing the sweat.  "I have to be so careful putting any pressure on her chest, no matter how gentle."  He polished his steamed spectacles and placed them in their usual resting place atop his head.  "Now you stay here until I return.  When I do, we'll work some more on warming this badger."

A few moments later, he barged into a kitchen as hot as any summer day.  Elders had erected cloth walls, which gave each hare a private room.  Their garments hung from the rafters, dripping onto the tile floor, creating puddles.  Everything else sat in a collective pile near one of the ovens.  Each hare sat on a stool with some attending elder spoon feeding them soup as if they were infants.  One look and he figured an infant might overpower any of these hares in their current condition.

Without any forewarning, he grabbed the first hare's ankle and brought his foot up to his muzzle.  He sniffed the foot and massaged the toes.  He repeated the action with the other foot.  Next, he took a firm grip of one ear and pulled it upward.  While one paw held the ear, he examined the base and tip of the long ear with his other paw.  He did the same with the second ear.  Now he held the hare's head between his paws and stared into his patient's eyes for a moment, feeling how hard he shivered.  Satisfied by what he saw, he moved on to the next cloth cubical until he inspected each of their unexpected guests. 

"Alright, which of you is in charge," he asked.

A shaking paw waved from one cloth cubical and he approached the older buck.  The healer reached up and reset his spectacles atop his muzzle.  He stared at the hare for a few moments, determined not to yell at this fool.  At least the fellow had the courtesy to introduce himself, though it took him three tries.

"Mind telling me what in Hellsgate happened out there?  All of you are showing some minor frostbite, but nothing like your prisoner.  Thanks to those metal cuffs, there's enough damage to her skin I seriously doubt if her fur will ever grow back, assuming she survives the night.  Why didn't you hunker down and wait for the storm to pass?"

Captain Greypaw held a steaming mug of cider close to his chest, savoring the warmth.  "When the blizzard hit, we were just two hours from your gate.  We became disoriented and our journey took a bit longer than anticipated.  Thank goodness we found the right path or we may have frozen out there.  Once we reached the Abbey, your gatekeeper ushered us here."

"When did your prisoner vomit," asked Healer Fazbee.

"How did you know?"

"I'm a healer, I'm trained to know such things.  Now answer my question."

Captain Greypaw told him.  Healer Fazbee snorted, turned his back on the officer, and made for the exit.  Two other patients needed him.  He kept up a steady tongue clicking, much like an aggravated mother with a dense child.  Just as he reached the kitchen door, he heard the Father Abbot.

"I don't think our healer is too impressed by your actions, Captain.  It might explain why your prisoner is worse off than the rest of you, but I'm sure he'll be wondering what possessed you to go trekking off in this storm instead of making a shelter and waiting until it passed.  Since you're here now, I'll arrange quarters and we can get the full story in the morning when everyone is feeling a lot warmer and a bit more civil."

[cairn destop]

Infirmary Morning

Henrietta's weary footsteps echoed down the Abbey's corridor as the hallway clock struck another hour of a new day.  Since the Dibbun Bell, she either ran wet towels down to the kitchen or retrieved the dry and toasty ones she left on a previous trip.  Inside the Infirmary, she did nothing more than make a doe hare comfortable at the hearth, or watch the healer exchange the hot towels she brought up for the wet ones that covered the patient.  Satisfied both patients would sleep, Healer Fazbee dismissed her.

No other inhabitant stirred as she made her way to the Dormitory, which didn't surprise her at this time of night.  She reached out for the door latch, pressed the lever until the lock opened, and slipped inside the room.  She did not move, allowing her eyes to adjust to the dim light of a single lamp.

Once the door closed, she released the breath she hadn't realized she held while entering the darkness.  Henrietta's ears swiveled in an attempt to capture any wayward sound.  All remained quiet.  She tiptoed to where the dibbuns slept. 

Henrietta almost squealed when her paw knocked a sodden coat from its hook and onto her foot.  After replacing it, she continued towards a faint light that flickered in the distance.  As Henrietta reached the end of the dark corridor, she came to a wide and shadowy room.  A series of beds lined the far wall, each separated from the other by a series of hanging sheets.  Somebody slept in each bed, with the exception of one.

She moved with all the stealth she possessed and approached the empty bed.  She sat on the nearest corner.  If that's the life of a healer, I want no part of it.  She groaned, too tired to stifle the sound.  None of the sleepers reacted.  Henrietta removed her sandals, careful not to drop them on the hardwood flooring.  Her tired fingers worked the buttons of her garments free and with a quick motion, exchanged them for her night shirt.

Crawling along the length of the bed, her paws worked the heavy covers off the pillow.  Her body gave a shudder as the wintry air swirled about her flimsy garment.  She scooted under the blankets and shivered even harder from the cold mattress.  For a moment, no sound could be heard and her eyes grew heavier as the bed warmed.  Sweet oblivion was but a few short breaths away.

Just then, a weight landed on her chest.  Such a sudden blow had her expelling whatever air she had.  She struggled to claw her way out of the bed.  Henrietta tried sitting up, but the tucked blankets and the unexpected weight held her in place.  Then a low voice called out to her with far more enthusiasm than the early hour warranted.

"Want to know what silly vole saw.  Want to know if that was a silly badger or not.  Wake up and tell me now.  Please, please, please?"

Henrietta forced her weary eyes open.  There, sitting on her stomach was the unexpected weight.  The young hogget straddled her body jumping in place with eager anticipation.  The youngster might not weigh much, but she felt every pound of the girl each time she landed on her.  Shortspike continued her pleading.

"I swear, if you don't stop bouncing, I'll have to return to that Healer's Infirmary . . . as a patient.  Now get off me so I can breathe."

The hogget slid off the bed and stood near her, oblivious to her recent discomfort.  For a moment, she thought of ignoring the girl, but feared a repeat performance.  She sat on the pillow and patted the bed.  When Shortspike settled next to her, Henrietta tried answering all the questions the tot kept spouting.

From the next sheeted cubical, a female voice gave a sleepy snarl.  "For the love of the Eternals, try and shut that brat up.  Put her to bed and be done with it.  She can wait 'til morning like the rest of us.  Even my sheep have sense enough not to go bleating throughout the night."

A male voice answered in just as groggy a tone.  "Ignore her.  When Shortspike gets animated about something, she cannot stop talking.  I don't think I could take her jabbering through whatever is left of the night."

"The two of you can go back to sleep; I'll take care of it."  Henrietta kept her voice low, but her snippy attitude came through to the two complainants.  She stood.  Shortspike held her paw as the two of them returned to the child's cloth room.  Henrietta waited until the young hedgehog was nestled in her bed.  At least the dibbun no longer spoke in a non-stop manner.

"Where to begin" Henrietta mused.  Not able to get a cohesive thought going at this late hour, she decided the best course was to just answer the questions fired at her by the super inquisitive dibbun.

"Healer Fazbee is treating a badger sow and she's suffering from the cold.  Good thing our doctor knew what to do; she'll make a full recovery."  She tapped her forehead with a claw.  "Let me think now.  I remember the hare guarding her said her name is Tassel and they are taking her to some courtroom for a trial.  Hard believing she's as evil as the hare hinted."

"Silly beastie had her head covered so I couldn't see what the silly badger looked like.  Is she as pretty as our silly Badgermom?"

Henrietta's expression soured.  "After seeing her face, I can assure you it would be the last thing you'd want to see before sleeping.  Her face would crack a mirror.  Healer Fazbee said her scars are either too old or too deep to fix.  He said her muzzle is broken; he doesn't want to put her through the pain of repairing the damage since he cannot guarantee it would be any better looking when he finished." 

Again Shortspike fired off a long list of questions, but this time, Henrietta sidestepped them.  Pleading with the hogget wasn't working and the other room's occupants were becoming more distressed.  Then inspiration hit her.  She promised the hedgehog if she went to sleep, she would tell her everything in the morning, which satisfied the now yawning child.

She returned to her own mussed bed and pulled the covers over her chilled body.  The bed had cooled since she left it, but it quickly warmed.  Just as her eyes drooped, the large form of Lady Pellanore hovered over her, tucking in the loose ends of her blanket.  She felt a light kiss to her forehead just as she slipped into a deep, exhausted sleep.

* * *

Henrietta hesitated at the Infirmary's door while balancing a food tray.  She thought going to the kitchen before the others woke a prudent idea.  It allowed her to verify the doe's uniform had dried as well as her other garments and gear.  A few words with the cook and she had a tray for their guests.

Shortspike cancelled all of her good intentions.  The dibbun must have raced downstairs when she found her missing.  Now, the young hogget held a pitcher of apple cider.  No amount of persuasion convinced the girl to stay in Cavern Hole.  She insisted on helping.

"Remember your promise," Henrietta said.

The girl raised one finger and tapped her nose in the universal sign for quiet.  She emphasized her promise with a loud shushing sound.  In spite of Henrietta's dreaded anticipation, she had no choice.  She pushed the door open, slipped inside, and allowed it to close after Shortspike entered.

Within the Infirmary, two slept past the morning bells.  A doe hare rested on the wooden floor just past the hearthstones, her head resting on a folded towel.  Her long ears twitched in time to the sound of her light breathing.  The hot blanket used to warm her hours earlier now covered her body while arms and legs remained exposed.

Since Henrietta didn't see the badger, she made the assumption that she rested upon an elevated table in the center of the room.  Unlike the chilled floor, a small fire kept the patient warm by heating the metal.  The Healer must have replaced the smaller hot towels she used last night with a heavy blanket.  This blanket rested on a wooden frame, which acted as a tent that hid the second patient. 

Several voices whispered just beyond the door.  When quiet returned, the door latch moved.  The Healer entered first.  Behind him came two hares and Lady Pellanore.  So much activity proved too much for the young hedgehog standing next to her.  The child didn't shout, but even a quiet voice in a silent room came across as a scream.

"I don't see no silly badger.  Where is she?"

Such an unexpected noise resulted in several things happening at once.  One of the hares accompanying the Healer reached for his weapon, but made no move to draw it.  The sleeping doe came to her feet while her paw patted the towel around her waist.  Her confused look almost had Henrietta laugh since she knew whatever item she wanted was nowhere within the room.

Healer Fazbee leaned down until he could meet the dibbun at her eye level.  "Could you do me a big favor?  Take our guest down to the kitchen where she can inspect her gear and see if any of her garments dried overnight.  Bet if you ask real nice, our guest will tell you all about her exciting adventures as a soldier."

Corporal Sweetleaf blushed as she realized somebody noticed her initial panic when she first awoke.  The doe mouthed a quick thank you for letting her know where she could find her gear.  The Corporal followed the jabbering child who kept pulling her paw.  The two stepped into the corridor and when the door closed, the animated voice was mercifully silenced by the wooden barrier. 

The healer extinguished the small fire under the metal table and lifted the blanket at one end of the gurney.  He exposed the head of a still sleeping badger.  For several moments, the woodchuck watched as his patient's chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm.  He left the blanket folded back.  No doubt satisfied with his patient's progress, Fazbee lifted his glasses off his muzzle and rested them in their customary resting place atop his head.

"At this point, Tassel will be more interested in food; she should offer you no trouble, Henrietta.  Give a shout if the unexpected does happen; I'm sure I can handle one under-aged and starving badger."

"And if our esteemed Healer cannot," said Lady Pellinor, "I've raised my fair share of pups.  No child, regardless of her age, will get the upper paw on me."

So many voices roused the sleeping badger and she stretched her paws above her head.  Reaction to her movement had the two male hares shouting in unison.  The one wearing a uniform withdrew his sword, ordering everyone outside while the brown hare stated the obvious by noting the missing restraints.

Such a hue and cry had the badger shift her weight away from the noise.  Her sudden movement toppled the metal cart and wooden frame, creating a deafening crash that added to the bedlam of shouts and curses from every occupant.  Tassel scooted backwards, which started another round of screamed orders from one hare, and counter-orders from the Badgermom and Healer.

Once again the door opened and a shrew dressed in green stepped into the midst of the fracas.  He watched the young badger wrap the bunched blanket about her while the elders continued their verbal tirade.  Henrietta turned into a living statue who held a food tray, not sure which way she should move.

The shrew let loose a piercing whistle that sliced through the hostile air like a knife through a fresh baked pie.  When all noise had ceased, the shrew closed the door behind him and moved to a point where he could observe every occupant.  The brown hare got no further than opening his mouth when the shrew held up his paw for silence.  The Father Abbot stared at the others letting the silence grow.

"Since this area of our Abbey is the province of our Healer, what say we let him speak first," said the shrew.

"Thank you, Father Abbot."  The woodchuck glared at each hare in turn.  "I expected two hungry patients, but these three bullied their way into my Infirmary.  Next thing I know, this one," he pointed at the uniformed hare, "draws his weapon and the other bellows about my patient's missing restraints."

A glance from the Father Abbot had the Badgermom speaking, though she too fought to maintain a calm demeanor.  "I too have reason to be here and accompanied our guests.  All I was trying to do was be the voice of reason."

Healer Fazbee almost exploded at the comment but seeing the Father Abbot's expression, kept his peace.  Now the shrew moved through the room and approached each occupant in turn.  His eyes bored into each and he didn't flinch at the sight of the mangled face of the younger badger.  Once finished his circumnavigation, he returned to where he had begun.

"It seems obvious our business must start now rather than later.  Captain Greypaw, have two armed guards stationed outside the Infirmary with orders not to enter this room unless necessary.  Henrietta, stay here with our patient as long as you wish, but don't be afraid to call for help.  Everyone else shall follow me downstairs; unless you have some medical reason for remaining, Healer?"

Mister Fazbee gave a low snort.  "She's recovered from the cold and I can check her for any additional injuries later.  Lead the way, Father Abbot."

Like reluctant children given an unpleasant chore, the three elders followed the Father Abbot from the room.  When the door closed, Henrietta stared at the mess and shook her head.  A gravelly voice startled her.

"If that food's for me, mind letting me have it before it becomes as cold as the ice outside?"

She felt the heat of a light blush touching her cheeks.  Henrietta searched for a flat surface, not sure where to set the tray.  The badger gave an exasperated grunt, pulled the serving tray out of her paws, and sat in a far corner.  Lifting each lid produced a light purr of approval.  The badger reached for the first item of food and hesitated.

"My guards have sickened the first few times they saw me eat.  You might not want to watch."

"With a face like yours, I can believe it."  Henrietta's paws flew upward, grabbing her muzzle and holding her mouth closed.  She stared at the badger trying to gauge her reaction to the inadvertent insult.

"I've said worse things about my beauty, so I take no offense.  If you're going to wait until I finish, just keep your back to me."

Henrietta sat against the near wall and stared at the door.  "Unless you prefer me leaving, I would like to sit and talk a while, Tassel.  It is Tassel?"

The gravelly voice gave a light laugh.  "You got the name right and I would enjoy having somebody speak to me without it coming out like a series of commands.  Other than those bloody hares, I haven't spoken to anyone since I left my home."

"Well than, let me tell you about the badger, Lady Pellanore.  She's our Badgermom and you'll not find a nicer elder.  Why one time I remember a funny story where a birthday party didn't go as planned. "

[cairn destop]

Pretrial Motions

Once beyond the confines of the Infirmary's examination room, everyone followed the Father Abbot.  Captain Greypaw kept pace with the former general as they followed the badger and healer.  None spoke.

A loud commotion had him glance forward.  His entire command followed Corporal Sweetleaf, and they were racing towards them.  Each soldier held their weapons at the ready.  He doubled his pace, which had him standing next to the Father Abbot when they drew closer.  His command stopped and saluted.

"Corporal Sweetleaf," Greypaw said.  "There is but one entrance into the Infirmary.  Assign one guard at this end and another just beyond the prisoner's room.  Be sure there are two guards on duty at all times.  Unless you hear somebody call for help or you see the prisoner outside that room," and here he pointed at the closed door behind him, "remain at your post.  I don't want anyone distracted while she's loose."

A paw pressed against his side and he gave way to the Father Abbot.  "Our Abbey is renowned for its peaceful inhabitants so I will ask you to keep your weapons sheathed while on duty.  I see no need upsetting anyone as to why we have armed guests."

The doe gave the Father Abbot a quizzical look before checking with her commander.  When Captain Greypaw nodded, the doe barked out orders to the privates who either dashed to their assigned stations or retraced their steps.  With order restored, everyone trailed the Father Abbot.

The Father Abbot, General Vindicarr, Captain Greypaw, the Healer, and Lady Pellanore, followed a long corridor that bypassed the main staircase.  The Father Abbot led them down the hallway.  Turning right, they circled a balcony that ended at another stairway.  This staircase led down to the Tapestry Room. 

As he descended, his eyes were drawn to the portrait of the Abbey's famous founding warrior, Martin.  The image may have been fashioned of wool, but such was the skill of the artisans who maintained its beauty, Captain Greypaw swore the image seemed to live and breathe.  Though the mantle above his image was bare, he knew the legendary Sword of Martin rested there when not needed. 

Captain Greypaw shuddered as he gazed into the face of Martin, a warrior renowned for his courage in battle.  He could feel the penetrating eyes of the portrait examining his very soul as he walked by in awed silence.  Without conscious thought, he brought his right paw to his heart, clenching it into a fist as a salute to a comrade in arms.  From the corner of his eye, he caught the former general mirroring his action.

After a quick march down to another door, the shrew stepped to the side and indicated his desire that they enter.  Each passed the Father Abbot, who held the door open.  As Lady Pellanore entered, the shrew stepped aside and the door closed on them.  They stood near the closed door, not sure what to do next.

Healer Fazbee strolled to the corner under a wall-mounted lamp.  The woodchuck picked up a nearby book, settled in a nearby chair, and started thumbing through the pages.  Having found something of interest, he lowered his glasses, which effectively cut him out of any further conversations.

Vindicarr took a stance at the opposite corner and Captain Greypaw joined him.  The two of them maintained a parade rest stance as they awaited the return of the Father Abbot.  Like the healer, neither of them initiated any speech.

Lady Pellanore went to a chair at the end of a long table closest to the door.  From her seat, she could turn in one direction and observe Healer Fazbee.  A shift of her muzzle in the opposite direction had her gazing at him and Vindicarr.  Her inspection left her muttering to herself as she leaned against the chair's hardwood backing.  When the other room inhabitants remained silent, she fixed her eyes on the closed door.

Their wait ended with a light rap at the door before it opened.  A tall female squirrel entered first.  Her fiery fur matched her expression and all watched as she quick-marched into the room.  The blue dress she wore swirled about her hips making a light rasping sound in the quiet chamber as she approached the table.  At the end furthest from the badger, she selected a chair and stood behind it. 

Next came a male otter who sauntered in as if he ruled this Abbey.  He held an ornate cane in his left paw.  The cane's dark wood contrasted his grayish brown fur and the reddish garments he wore.  Though the touch of grey about his muzzle hinted at his age, his movements displayed a more youthful vigor belying any need for his walking stick.  After a fast nod to the female squirrel, the otter approached the seat across from the lady squirrel.  They sat.

The Father Abbot entered last.  He took the seat between squirrel and otter.  This allowed him an unobstructed view of anyone sitting at the table.  He beckoned to the room's remaining occupants directing them to join him.  Once everyone found a seat, a tense moment of silence passed.

"Let me open this meeting by introducing my two associates.  On my left is Lady Sudditta.  She is bonded to the Red Maple Tribe's chief.  According to her mate, she has settled many disputes, thereby averting trouble necessitating his intervention.  I requested her presence as a female's viewpoint may prove valuable."

The red furred squirrel nodded to each occupant in turn as she made eye contact, working her way from Redwall's Badgermom to the Father Abbot.  She gave a hasty lick to her paw and slicked down the cowlick, which remained jutting at an angle from her right ear.  A flick of her dampened ear had the errant tuff of fur separating once again. 

"And on my right is the leader of Yosum Holt, Chief Merkez.  His otters have proven themselves in numerous skirmishes against the bandits King Meles is fighting.  But it appears the Skipper of Otters, who is acknowledged as the leader of all otters, will not consider any alliance with Yosum Holt.  This slight has created a rift, which is why Merkez migrated south to Redwall with his clan."

Like the female squirrel, the otter's eyes bored into each beast seated at the table.  Using his cane like a swagger stick, the otter saluted them.  Captain Greypaw acknowledged it with a slight head bob.  Merkez's eyes lingered on the woodchuck Healer and the lady badger for several seconds before he leaned back in his chair, an inscrutable expression etched upon his face.  He then acknowledged the presence of Lady Sudditta and Father Abbot Draccon.

Without preamble, the Father Abbot explained their presence.  "The three of us shall preside over the upcoming trial of the female badger brought here last night.  I know you knew nothing of this, Healer Fazbee, so let me ask the question uppermost in our minds; is your patient fit to stand trial?"

Those words had the woodchuck sputtering.  "Stand trial?  I thought the hares were taking her somewhere else, Father Draccon."  When no further clarification came, Healer Fazbee sounded a light harrumph.  He shifted his glasses to their customary place atop his head before he offered his medical assessment.  "She is a bit undernourished, but otherwise in reasonably good health after her weather related injuries.  If you're intending to have her tried, I see no reason for voicing an objection."

"Then let's get started.  Our first question is when.  I would recommend a week after the Dibbun Day celebration, which is in ten days.  We can then concentrate on this serious matter without cutting any festivities short."

General Vindicarr shot to his feet.  "That is totally unacceptable, sir.  This trial has been delayed far too long.  If we start tomorrow morning, we can have her convicted by noon and buried by nightfall.  With nine more days before your festivities, nobody will suffer from dampening spirits."

Now Lady Pellanore bolted upright.  "You are aware King Meles asked me to defend her in this trial?  Have you so little faith in my ability or is it your own sense of arrogance?"  Her lips pulled back and her hackles rose.  "Perhaps the King's courts are willing to convict this child without hearing any evidence, but I will not allow it to happen here."  Her reddish eyes blazed at the brown hare.  "You try to deny her due process and I will take it personally, and you dare not get on my bad side, hare."

"Enough, both of you."  The Father Abbot's palm slapped the table's surface creating a thud that captured everyone's attention.  "Present an alternative and we shall consider it."

Over the next hour the Badgermom offered various choices.  Each time she did, Vindicarr explained its shortcomings.  Sometimes the female squirrel or the male otter proffered a question on some point.  This started another round of comments, sometimes requiring the intervention of the Father Abbot.

Captain Greypaw considered it odd that the king selected both the prosecutor and the defense counselor for this trial.  As a disinterested observer, he had no idea why his presence might be needed.  With no valid comment or suggestion to offer, he remained quiet during the most heated of exchanges.  He almost missed the next comment directed at him by Father Draccon. 

"Based on what we have learned, it appears Captain Greypaw knows the prisoner far better than any of us.  Care to give us your opinion, Captain?"

All eyes shifted to him.  Greypaw in turn stared at the Father Abbot for several protracted seconds while he considered how best to answer his inquiry.  "Other than the time she suffered from a high fever, she has been controllable and has obeyed our commands.  If she kept a civil tongue, I would refer to her behavior as exemplary."

The Father Abbot stood.  With a beckoning paw he directed the squirrel and otter to join him at the far end of the room.  There the three elders conferred in low voices even his heightened hearing couldn't discern.  An occasional outburst from one had the others issuing a quick admonishment, which preceded a hasty glance at those sitting at the table's far end.

Judging by the snap of Lady Sudditta's tail and the occasional thump of the walking stick, they were having problems coming to any consensus.  Even Father Draccon was not above an open display of opposition to whatever words passed between them.  As they continued their discussions, the three elders wandered to the far corner where they remained in an animated verbal repartee.

A clock marked the quarter hour twice before their conference ended.  Each then returned to the table without looking at those awaiting their decision.  When all were seated, the squirrel and otter nodded in near unison and the Father Abbot revealed their final decision.

"The trial shall begin the day after Dibbun Day and any verdict shall require the unanimous decision of our panel.  Until then, the badger child will be placed in the custody of our Badgermom, but under restraints each night within the Dormitory.  Since I prefer seeing children earning their keep, I shall allow her some latitude so she may work with Father Hughnaught in our kitchens.  We can have cutlery sent to another area for washing while she scrubs pots and pans.  A guard shall be with her each night, but during the day, no hare will approach her unless their intervention is warranted.  If her behavior in public is inappropriate, I alone will determine what corrective action shall be taken."

Bedlam broke out as these decrees were issued.  Both Badgermom Pellanore and former General Vindicarr shouted their objections.  Even Captain Greypaw added a point of dissent.  Father Draccon allowed the uproar to continue until all took a short respite.

"Special arrangements must be made before our decisions can be implemented, but those are nothing more than logistics.  Shall we discuss them now or would you prefer working out the details at a later time?"

* * *

"Stop twisting my tail."  Henrietta held her sides as tears slid down the side of her muzzle.  "You're lying.  No beast could be so stupid."

Tassel continued giggling.  "It's all true.  The stoat got lost in the woods and thought he had found a hidden fishing pond.  He walked out on the ice figuring the deepest part would be where all the big fish hid."

Henrietta swiped her paw across her face drying her tears as she continued shaking with mirth.  When the badger delivered the punch line about the stoat going through the thin ice and into the cesspool, she doubled over howling with laughter.  The sound of the badger hiccupping as she said it through her giggling had both of them leaning against the wall.

"By the time he pulled himself to shore, he was soaked.  I tell you, nobody wanted him within a hundred yards downwind, even after a dozen soapy washings.  Somebody told me his mate refused to let him in their home for a whole week."

The two fell silent as each pictured the exact moment when the ice broke.  Imagining the male's expression as he realized what he fell into had them pantomiming the special event.  Each girl tried showing a wilder wide-eyed stare than the other, which had both collapsing into still more hysterical laughter. 

When quiet returned, neither made any further comment.  Without warning, the door flew open and seven uniformed hares entered the examination room with their weapons drawn.  They stood in a ragged line, each hare pointing their weapon at the two of them.  They squeezed into the far corner.  Several soldiers moved to one side of the room in a flanking maneuver.

Captain Greypaw kept his eyes fixated on Tassel.  "We heard a commotion and responded.  Don't be afraid, we will protect you."

For a moment, Henrietta hesitated.  Then she jumped to her feet and placed her balled fists against her hips.  "Right now I'm more afraid of a bunch of crazed soldiers who don't know the difference between a cry for help and genuine laughter."

Corporal Sweetleaf lunged in and hooked her elbow.  Before she could react, Henrietta found herself lifted off her feet and launched towards the open door.  As she regained her balance, she noticed how fast the badger's smile melted.  In its place a smoldering anger manifested itself in a menacing growl.  She shivered in fear from the unexpected change in her new friend's attitude.

"I prefer to err on the side of caution.  Have the prisoner placed in restraints." 

Henrietta continued watching the hares as the restraints were placed about the badger's wrists and ankles.  A light cough and a pointing muzzle from one of the hare privates had the Captain glancing over his shoulder.  The hare officer first sheathed his weapon and with a less than gentle shove, propelled Henrietta into the hallway.  Before she could protest, the door slammed shut. 

[cairn destop]

First Impressions

Tassel paced the confines of the Infirmary's examination room.  Since the departure of the hares and Henrietta, she had but one visitor, an old woodchuck who preferred muttering to himself.  This fellow gathered the fallen debris from the morning and placed everything on the metal cart.  When he finished, he left the room without responding to any of her inquiries.

Curiosity got the better of her, and she opened the same door the Healer used.  A long corridor ran in both directions.  She thought it empty until somebody shouted.  One hare sentry stationed near the door moved in her direction.  His paw rested near his weapon while another hare came towards her from the opposite end of the hallway.  Tassel retreated and neither soldier followed.

With nothing to do but pace, she soon became bored.  Though she noticed the other door, she didn't open it, fearing another confrontation.  Eventually the monotony of walking the perimeter of the small room had her welcoming the possible distraction such an altercation might generate.

Casting aside her apprehension, Tassel eased the door open.  She almost slammed it shut again, fearing another hare stood nearby.  Upon closer inspection, she discovered not an exit, but a closet filled with towels and bed linens.  She replaced the sheet she used with a large blanket from one shelf, wrapped it about her body, and curled up in a corner.  Within moments, she slipped into a light sleep.

She sensed someone else had entered the room.  This must be the badger Henrietta mentioned.  It took no powers of deduction to judge her mood.  The older badger stood within the doorframe, glaring at her.  If that wasn't enough of an indicator, her tail kept sweeping the spot behind her with such vigor Tassel wondered if it would wear down the wood grain.

"Listen here, child, it's time we set the ground rules."

Tassel matched the badger's stern voice with one of her own.  "With me wearing nothing more than a towel about my person, I would imagine your ground rules will have me staying right here."

How did somebody that big move so fast?  Tassel found herself slammed against the far wall and staring into the eyes of one incensed lady.  The threatening growl she heard convinced her to remain quiet.  The elder held her for several seconds before she released her.

"I have handled many a pup in my days and realize older teens sometimes come with an attitude, but that gives you no right to act in such a crude manner.  When next we speak, you will use my name, Lady Pellanore, or my title, Badgermom.  Do so with a civil tongue or I shall treat you like a dibbun half your years."

Tassel made no retort and Lady Pellanore's expression softened, but not enough to be called friendly.  "Tomorrow morning, I'll bring you a change of clothing so you can leave this room.  Our Father Abbot wants you working in the kitchen scrubbing pots and pans during the day.  It will give you something to occupy your time.  Come nightfall, you'll bed with the other children under my care.  I'll explain any other ground rules as they become necessary."

The older sow marched to the exit.  The loud slam of the door punctuated the elder's displeasure and the sound of the timbers closing echoed in the room long after her departure.  Tassel remained where she was, staring at the closed door until certain Lady Pellanore would not return.

Morning brought a welcome change.  A set of dry clothing and a pair of sandals allowed her to leave the Infirmary.  Tassel growled at the two hare guards she passed, which had Lady Pellanore rapping the back of Tassel's head as they continued their journey to the kitchen.  When she noticed the two hares remained behind, Tassel smiled, which sent two other Abbey residents they passed scurrying off in a different direction.

They entered the kitchen.  Lady Pellanore introduced Father Hughnaught, who remained speechless whenever Tassel looked his way.  After the Badgermom made several aborted attempts at getting Redwall's chef talking, she led Tassel on a tour of the massive kitchen.  At times the chef added a detail, but he always directed his comments to the elder badger and not at her.

Lady Pellanore explained the limitations imposed on her by the Father Abbot before she exited the area.  For several moments, Father Hughnaught stood rooted in place staring at the door through which the Badgermom had vanished, his back to her.  Tassel's light touch made the woodchuck jump, but he responded to her question by escorting her to a series of deep washbasins.

Father Hughnaught acted as a genial host by offering her a hearty breakfast before starting work.  The fellow stood nearby, but than dashed over to his ovens claiming he smelled something burning.  By the time she finished her meal, one basin had a mound of dirty pots awaiting her attention.  With her back to all the kitchen workers, Father Hughnaught found conversation somewhat easier and the earlier tension dissipated as comments passed between them.

By early afternoon the delightful odor of baked apple pies filled the room.  The voices of the other workers reminded her of the buzzing insects back home and she ignored them since none were ever directed at her.  One voice she did monitor was that of the chef, who had the habit of talking to himself as he hustled between the ovens and cooling racks located behind her workstation.  "I do hope we don't lose any more pies.  I've had a few disappear over the last few days."

Tassel continued scrubbing the never-ending pile of crockery dismissing the chef's comments.  A glance at the latest cleaned pot hanging off a high rack afforded her a mirrored view of the cooling racks.  She had just placed the next dirty pot into the sink when the reflected movements of two unknown creatures caught her attention.

Whirling about, she caught two mole children lifting one of the cooling pies off a lower rack.  She lunged towards the unsuspecting tots.  Tassel fastened her claws into the nape of their necks and gave a quick twist, which yanked both youngsters off their feet.  She held the two miscreants at eye level and gave a mighty roar.  Both moles tucked their tails and lost their water.  As the two moles stared into the nightmarish face of their captor, Tassel gave each of them a vigorous shake.  That had both crying out in pain.

Within seconds, a contingent of elders rushed into the kitchen.  The two moles continued wailing as Tassel shifted her eyes from one mole to the other as she held them suspended above the messy floor.  Three hares entered with weapons drawn, but hesitated.  Father Hughnaught pushed his way to the front.

"Release those dibbuns right now."  Tassel complied with his orders.  She loosened her grip and the two sniveling moles fell onto the messy floor.  Father Hughnaught helped the two to their feet, handed the moles another pie and shooed everyone outside.  With relative order restored, the woodchuck turned on her.  For some reason, he appeared distressed that she captured the ones responsible for the recent thefts.

"Missy, I've known about those two pinching my treats for the last two weeks.  It's just a game they play.  I saw them hiding behind the sacks of flour earlier this morning and so I made the comment about the thieves for their benefit.  Lets them think they're getting away with something naughty."

Shaking her head, Tassel returned to the soapy water.  "Where I come from, such thieves would be given a harsh beating for the first offense and could lose a paw if they ever repeated such a crime.  Your reaction only encourages more thieveries."

The proof of her statement came when the next batch of pies was laid out on the cooling racks.  Tassel spotted movement in a pot's reflection and sounded a low growl as she turned from her wash basin.  Two young female squirrels gazed over at her, tucked their tails, and slinked out of the kitchen on all fours without disturbing any of the pies.

The two latest would-be thieves had not been long gone when Tassel heard the familiar no-nonsense voice of Lady Pellanore behind her.  "I hear you have been causing quite a disturbance.  Between Vindicarr's legalistic tirade, the Captain's vivid descriptions, and the dibbun's parent's indignation, there isn't an elder within Redwall who doesn't want your hide tanned.  Give me one reason why I shouldn't."

Without turning from the half-cleaned pot sitting before her, Tassel answered in a flat voice.  "Do as you will; I was following the directive voiced by Father Hughnaught." 

When the Badgermom did not give an immediate reply, Tassel added a comment that carried a note of frustration.  "For somebody so dedicated to what is proper, your tolerance of such criminal actions by those among you is most confusing."

A gentle paw gave her shoulder a light squeeze.  "I shall try and quench their fire, Tassel."

For the rest of the day, she had no reason for speaking with any of the other kitchen workers and remained silent.  When Father Hughnaught presented her next meal, she wandered outside by the woodpile.  Though the winter weather kept others inside, Tassel found it tolerable.  It also offered her a quiet respite.

At least it did before Captain Greypaw marched around the building's corner.  In anticipation of his question, Tassel reminded the hare she was allowed outside, though no further than the stacked wood needed for the ovens.  The Captain made no comment as he cleaned off a nearby tree stump and sat.

"That's not why I'm here, badger.  If those privates were telling me the truth, they believed you intended doing harm to those youngsters.  I'm curious why a killer like you held back."

"My orders were to obey Redwall's chef, which I did.  He wanted the thieves apprehended; nothing more."

Captain Greypaw mulled over her response before he returned to the Abbey.  Just as he moved out of her line of vision, Tassel caught sight of another hare leaning against the building.  Knowing the hare guard was stationed there intensified her resentment of their presence.  Now this former peaceful setting lost its allure.  Tassel bolted her food and returned to the warmth of the kitchen pleased at least one of the hares remained outside suffering in the frigid weather.

At day's end when the last polished pot was hung in its rack, Tassel gave a mighty stretch and rubbed her back.  It had been a long day.  She felt the chill of winter invading the once summer hot room and knew the many ovens within the kitchen no longer held a fire. 

With everyone having been dismissed some time earlier, the only other worker in the room was Father Hughnaught.  Something displeased him.  She glanced in the direction of his voice, which had her frowning.  Four pairs of hare ears sprouted above a cutlery cupboard.

The hares followed the chef as he came from around the cabinet's corner.  Two of the hares carried a series of chains.  A third held a weapon at the ready.  All of them followed Corporal Sweetleaf as they made their way to where she stood.  Tassel offered no resistance and in swift order, her guards led her beyond the kitchen. 

Once inside the Abbey proper, they herded her through a series of rooms to a staircase.  If she wanted to check out her surroundings, the guards never gave her the opportunity.  They almost raced through the first floor and climbed some marble steps to the second floor.  One guard opened a door and all entered a room containing a series of beds aligned along the far wall.

They approached a metal ring screwed into the wall.  In quick order, her chains were secured.  Corporal Sweetleaf handed the badger two thick blankets while the privates unfastened a hanging sheet by each wall.  Unfurling the sheets created two more walls that enclosed her.  Satisfied with their work, the hares withdrew.

A series of bells rang just as Tassel arranged her bedding to her satisfaction.  Moments later, she detected the scent of several other residents.  One voice she recognized.  It belonged to one of the hare guards who escorted her upstairs

"Now hear and obey me, hogget.  Nobody is allowed within this room; I make no exceptions for some silly dibbun wanting to look inside."

A female voice growled.  "Of all the words you could use, you had to say that one."

As if in answer, a shrill voice sang out a sing-song litany of words that attributed the word silly to every object she saw.  Four other voices begged for her silence, without much success.  When Lady Pellanore intervened, the cacophony ceased.

The lights had just dimmed when a new disturbance could be heard from the opposite end of the dormitory.  Once again the hare guard shouted, ordering somebody not to move.  Along the Dormitory floor an apparition scooted under the fabric wall.  Tassel's jaw dropped at the sight and she remained sitting wrapped in her blankets gazing at a small figure.

The hogget stood just a little higher than Tassel's knee and had a bright yellow ribbon weaved through her head spikes.  A slight shift to the side confirmed the small child before her was indeed a hedgehog.  Her eyes misted.  She extended her manacled paws towards the dibbun and cooed.  The young beast darted back under the cloth wall.

"Shortspike, you naughty girl.  Didn't I tell you not to go in there," Lady Pellanore growled.

The shrill voice Tassel had heard earlier responded.  "Wanted to see what the silly badger looked like, wanted to know if her silly face really could crack a mirror."

"Well I hope it was worth your morning dessert.  Now be off to bed or I'll have my paw meet your rump."

Tassel remained squatting on the blankets starring at the spot where Shortspike had stood; unshed tears clouding her vision while she whispered the word chaff.  She continued her vigilance until she heard the sound of the room's other residents sleeping.  Once more she curled up within the blankets and stared forward.  When the silhouette of a hare appeared on the fabric where the young hedgehog had disappeared, Tassel gave a low but angry snarl before she too curled up in her blankets for a good night's sleep. 

[cairn destop]

Dibbun Day

Stiles laid down his quill as he again checked his notes.  A few more strokes and he gave Badgermom Tassel his undivided attention. 

"My little sister was one of those squirrels you spotted before they could steal a pie.  Don't think she tried pinching something from the kitchen ever again.  We laugh about it today, but back then I can still remember just how angry my parents felt."

The masked badger continued staring at the ceiling.  "And how is your sister today?"

"She remains with the Red Maple Tribe.  Each year she sends me a letter insisting we move since squirrels need wood, not stone, but my mate and I love Redwall too much."

Tassel stretched from her prone position and with a mighty push, lifted herself off the sofa.  Without any prompting, she set a pot over the fireplace and waited until it boiled.  Once they each had a hot cup of tea warming their paws, she returned to the couch.

Stiles sipped his tea.  "After your first night, Lady Pellanore insisted the guards be removed.  According to the Father Abbot's diary, she found them too intimidating; I just wish our former Badgermom kept a journal.  It would've made my job easier."  The scribe remained quiet, hoping his guest might provide additional insight.

"Nothing special happened.  Over the next few nights I met the others.  With one exception, each would stick their head into my area and offer a good night before returning to their bed.  Even after all these years, I'll never forget the day before my trial because it started out as something magical."

The squirrel scribe laughed.  "The magic was thanks to Lady Pellanore, much to the objections of two certain hares.  Our Badgermom must have been pleased our cook kept you working late as you slept through her surprise."  Placing fresh paper before him, the scribe dipped his pen before looking at his guest.  "I would love hearing about that day from your viewpoint."

Scratching her ear with one claw, the badger played for time by draining her cup.  "Oh dear, not my best attribute you know.  Telling stories about oneself is difficult, but let me see if I can.  I suppose the beginning of the tale is with the morning. "

* * *

Tassel blinked her eyes as she peered from her woolen cocoon, uncertain as to what caused her to stir.  Her nose sniffed the air and detected no unpleasant scent.  Then her eyes focused on the cloth cell that defined her sleep area and finding nobody there; she gave a snort before digging deeper into her bedding.

She had just gotten comfortable when a shrill voice disturbed the peace.  A soft moan escaped her lips as the voice turned more animated and persistent.

"Get out of your silly beds, its morning."  Shortspike continued repeating this phrase as her voice marked her progress within the room.

When the hares take me to the kitchen, everyone is still asleep.  What in the world would have her up this early?

A male voice groaned.  "Say Dale, were we ever this excited about Dibbun Day?"

Another groggy male replied.  "According to Badgermom Pellanore, you threatened to jump on her, quills first, if she didn't get up one year, Egress.  So yes, I would say we were a bit excited when we were her age."

The first female voice she heard sounded as upset as it did sleepy.  "Oh for the peace and quiet of home.  You do your morning chores and then you can enjoy the rest of the day.  We acted with far more dignity than a certain hogget." 

"Well, she's up and I'm betting a lot of the dibbuns in this Abbey are making their way to the Tapestry Hallway."  Of all the voices, Tassel remembered Henrietta's the best since they had talked long into the night on several occasions.

"I'm no dibbun" growled the voice of the black squirrel.

"Neither are we elders, Robertasin, but for this one day, we can enjoy acting like a child."  Knowing Dale's words were intended as an admonishment to the one inhabitant who never directed a civil comment at her pleased Tassel.  She snuggled deeper in her blankets.

A sudden weight landed on Tassel's side.  Giving a menacing growl, Tassel poked her head beyond the confines of her blankets.  The young hogget stepped backward until she encountered the cloth wall, though the exuberant expression remained plastered on her face.  How could she be so miffed at such an excited child?  Tassel pulled the blanket over her head.

"Father Hughnaught kept me working past the last bell scrubbing pots and pans.  I swear I must have scoured everything in the kitchen at least three times.  So let me sleep until those blasted hares come for me." 

"Silly badger, no dibbun works today.  Big, big, party."

"And just where do you think I can go wearing these chains?"  Tassel didn't hide her anger.

Sticking her one paw forward, she saw Shortspike's blank expression.  Her eyes shifted to her wrist.  Though the shackle remained around her wrist, the chain had disappeared.  In slow motion Tassel extended her other arm.  Both arms were missing their restraints.

Tassel jumped to her feet, scattering her bedding in her haste to stand.  The cuffs binding her ankles remained, but not the chains.  A check of the nearest wall showed the metal ring, but nothing else.

Her unfettered foot prodded her bedding.  Nothing metallic hidden there.  She remembered Corporal Sweetleaf testing each lock before withdrawing like she did every night, so it made no sense.  Chains cannot disappear.  Tassel did a quick pirouette, enjoying her freedom of motion.

An inquisitive voice spoke from the indentation made in the cloth wall.  "Is silly badger going to keep doing that silly dance or are you coming downstairs?"

She approached the small hedgehog.  Tassel leaned closer until both were at eye level.  She kept her left side facing Shortspike knowing her profile was not as frightening a sight.  Only an old red scar that ran from the tip of her nose to a point under her eye marred that side of her face.

"I'm not so sure I would be allowed downstairs without those hares nearby.  Why don't you go without me?"

Shortspike darted through the seam of the cloth walls.  Once out of sight, she shouted.  "That silly badger isn't leaving her silly room."  There was a strong note of disappointment in this pronouncement.

Just as Tassel started folding the first blanket someone pulled the front cover to her room back.  Three of the room's residents stood there like miniature elders with an expression reflecting disapproval, which she did not understand.  Shortspike stood a pace behind, tears hanging unshed.  Henrietta spoke volumes with nothing more than a simple gesture.  She held out her paw.

When her foot crossed the threshold, Tassel shuddered.  A quick glance down the corridor showed no other resident stirred and yet she hesitated.  Tassel tested the air for the scent of any approaching hare, but one small paw pulling and three pushing, propelled her down a carpeted hallway.  Another quick turn and Tassel stood at the top of a stairway.

Below her rose a cacophony of excited youthful voices shouting to one another.  A glance over the railing revealed a swarm of young residents of every woodlander species in high spirits.  Some carried colorful packages off to the side while others paraded around the room displaying something they carried.  For Tassel, the festive air overwhelmed her senses as she became transfixed halfway down the stairs viewing a scene defying her powers of description or understanding.

"And what are you doing out here, badger?"

All turned towards the displeased voice.  Seven uniformed hares and an eighth one dressed in formal attire stood at the top landing.  Next to them, another youth Tassel knew all too well from her time within the Dormitory, glared down at her.  The black squirrel advanced to a point out of her reach and high enough Tassel needed to look upward. 

"I don't know why these others have befriended somebody we are fighting, but I'll wager you don't have permission to move about without an escort," said Robertasin.

There was no denying the deep hatred burning behind the green eyes.  Neither was Robertasin's pleasure at discovering her committing some transgression.  The black squirrel seemed embolden by the presence of the hares as she awaited the consequences of Tassel's error.

At the base of the staircase another resident appeared.  Without rushing, the female badger started up the stairs.  When Lady Pellanore drew even with Tassel, she faced the black squirrel eye to eye.  The tone of her voice brooked no discussion.

"For today, Tassel has the Father Abbot's permission to attend the festivities without anyone shadowing her movements.  Do nothing that will have him regret making such a decision."  The elder badger glared first at the squirrel Robertasin, and then at Tassel and her entourage.  "Any of you."

One by one Tassel and her four escorts descended the staircase.  Badgermom Pellanore acted as a rear guard between them and the hares.  Tassel made a rapid exit merging with the other celebrants, but staying close to the others.  Her last sight of the black squirrel had her descending the stairs like an aristocrat, unaffected by those around her.

The jabbering hogget pulled Tassel's paw as they moved deeper into the room.  Despite the heavy crowd, others gave way as Tassel advanced.  Anyone looking on her disfigured face found their festive mood interrupted.  However, once she passed, the gayety resumed.  Shortspike continued pulling Tassel until they stood at the hallway's closed doors.  There, under several hanging lanterns, a pile of colorful bags and boxes sat. 

An old otter wearing a heavy shawl rested on a stool.  When the hogget spoke her name, the elder pushed herself upright and using her cane, prodded the jumble of decorative boxes.  While she did, Tassel's companions joined in the search.  Just as the elder found what she wanted, each teen snagged one of the decorative objects and darted away.  Upon receiving her bag, Shortspike bounded off, disappearing in the maelstrom of youthful exuberance leaving Tassel facing an unknown elder who frowned at her before returning to her chair.

"Well badger, take what is yours and be gone."  The elder must have noticed her confusion, the otter again prodded the strewed items until she spotted one box.  Using her cane as a pointer, the otter poked her gut with a light prod and then indicated the box.  Once Tassel lifted the object, the elder returned to her chair.

Tassel tucked the decorated box under her arm and joined the milling crowd, not sure what she should do.  Her wanderings took her past tables filled with confections of every description that left her salivating.  Youngsters would rush over, scan the table's contents, and then pop one of the goodies into their mouth.  Following their lead, Tassel reached for one, but then quickly withdrew her paw when she spotted an elder walking past. 

Henrietta's unexpected voice startled her since she thought herself alone in this crowd.  "Take whatever you like.  It's why they are there, Tassel."

A quick look at Henrietta and her nod was all the incentive Tassel needed.  Taking one hard treat, she placed it in her mouth, allowing the item to melt.  Her pleasure evident, Henrietta mentioned the name of the candy.

"Is this the only time peppermint is used?"

Henrietta laughed.  "I hear some elders add it to tea for flavor."

There was no chance at replying; the crowd swept Henrietta to another part of the room.  With those she knew disbursed throughout the room, Tassel sought a quiet corner where she could examine her gift without being disturbed.  She found a space between two tables that kept her out of the milling crowd and sat.

She inspected the box the elder said was hers.  Somebody wrapped it in several pieces of colorful fabric and sewed it shut.  The sewing held the fabric covering, but not too well.  A clawed finger slipped under the stitching would snap it without much effort, which  seemed intentional.  Others didn't hesitate breaking the seals and discovering what treasure was within their box. 

Tassel found the four corners far more interesting.  The gift had a fabric tassels attached to each corner.  If nothing else, it indicated which side should remain up.  Her finger batted the one closest to her paw: the flipping threads mesmerized her.

Other slaves told her she got her name from an indiscretion committed at a party.  While her mother worked in the kitchen, she slipped into the master's ballroom.  Every lady in attendance wore fancy jewelry around their neck or attached to their ears.  She envied their beauty.  The next day, she bit off two curtain tassels and tied them to a loop of thread, turning them into earrings.

The master did not find it amusing and banished her to the fields.  He renamed her Tassel to remind her why she could no longer enter the great manor.  She would have asked her mother the truth of this story, but a loose rug and a high staircase ended her life a month later.

Her finger batted the tassel closest to her paw; her mind a jumble of pleasant memories.  Two voices disturbed the trance created by the gyrating fabric.  They were close and neither noticed her.  The brown hare reached for a bowl of treats sitting near the edge where she squatted.  His paw so close that a quick lunge and she could sample his fingers.  She resisted that urge.

"I haven't seen the badger since Lady Pellanore relayed the Father Abbot's decision," said the brown hare.

"Not to worry, General.  Just because the shrew is willing to let her wander about doesn't mean I've forgotten my duty.  I stationed my unit just outside every exit; she'll not go far if she tries escaping.  They can also respond to any incident should the need arise."

"These Redwallers are too lenient; allowing this vermin unsupervised movement, even for a day, is begging for trouble.  And even worse, I hear somebody left her a gift."

"If she did get something, I'll confiscate whatever it is at the end of the day.  Anyone objects, I'll claim she could use it as a weapon and I'm safeguarding their welfare, which should be sufficient.  I doubt the Father Abbot would knowingly endanger the residents."

Captain Greypaw drained his tankard and placed it on the table with a heavy paw.  "I'm more concerned about this trial tomorrow, General.  These Abbey beasts might excuse her behavior since she isn't an elder yet.  And let's not forget some here see her as a well-behaved teen."

"Convicting this vermin badger will be no problem.  What bothers me is carrying out the sentence.  Considering their misplaced sentimentality, we'll have to execute her somewhere private.  Will your unit be able to do their duty?"

Tassel couldn't hear the reply as the two hares moved away from the table, joining many late-coming elders.  As the party swirled around her, Tassel studied the unopened gift box.  It lost all its appeal.  She placed it on the floor under the table, rose from her place of concealment, and moved closer to where she had an unobstructed view of the musicians.  Neither the melodious tones nor the delicious foods could recapture the sense of wonder the day held such a short time ago.  She sensed the fall of a single tear that meandered down the side of her muzzle.

[cairn destop]

For the Prosecution

Regardless of the conversation Tassel overheard, she still found the festive occasion an enjoyable experience.  She tried to watch the many skits performed and listen to the musicians, but Shortspike's efforts to have her play with her new doll acted as a distraction.  All too soon the daylight shinning through the overhead windows gave way to evening stars and the hares escorted her back to her cloth cell in the Dormitory.

True to his word, Captain Greypaw demanded whatever gift she had received.  Tassel emptied her pockets.  She insisted her gift consisted of a selection of candy treats, which she ate while downstairs.  The lie sounded so reasonable that Captain Greypaw did not press the issue.  Instead, he joined the brown hare and returned to the holiday party.  She  welcomed a good night's rest after so much activity.

The next morning, sounds from beyond the cloth barrier disturbed her rest.  She scented the hares, but they remained distant.  The other occupants stirred as they prepared for the new day.  Tassel listened to the banter going back and forth between them until the sound of a closing door marked their departure.  All became quiet and Tassel remained curled in her snug, warm blankets.  If these residents decided her services were not needed, she would relax.

Her quiet interlude evaporated when Tassel's cloth walls snapped back with a loud popping sound and six hares followed Lady Pellanore into the room.  Several of the hares carried chains, which had the teen backpedaling until she wedged herself in the corner with her knees tucked under her chin.   The hares remained where they were when the older badger waved them back. 

It took some effort and there was a bit of grunting and groaning, but Lady Pellanore did manage to sit near her.  They remained there, facing each other for a few moments, neither wishing to disturb the silence.  A discrete cough by Corporal Sweetleaf elicited a frown from the older badger.

"Your trial begins today, Tassel, and these hares are here to escort you to the courtroom.  I argued you would come without the need for such restraints, but there are some who fear you might initiate a bloody battle within our Abbey.  As you can guess, I lost the argument.  If you cooperate with me, it will show our Father Abbot how trustworthy you are."

Tassel stared at the older one, recognizing the lie within her words.  "It's not trust, Lady Pellanore.  None want me to escape.  We all know this trial will end with me dancing at the end of a very short rope.  I could be the most docile creature and every elder would wonder when I would turn.  I grow tired of fighting my fate; let's get this thing done."

Tassel stood and approached the hares.  In quick order, four long chains were attached to her limbs and the lone private not holding a chain, held his weapon at the ready.  Once Badgermom Pellanore rose, Corporal Sweetleaf led everyone along the same path Tassel took yesterday.

As they descended the stairs, she noticed the stark change to the room.  Workers removed yesterday's festive decorations during the night.  A series of heavy black drapes hid the magnificent tapestry that ran the length of one wall.  Benches filled with the Abbey's inhabitants ran across the width of the hall where merry musicians, clowns, and actors performed.  At the place where the gifts had been stacked, a raised dais with three chairs behind a bare table dominated the room.  Tables sat on either side of a low platform that had a heavy wooden railing on three sides.

As the hares led her to the witness box, Lady Pellanore moved to Tassel's right, opposite the table where General Vindicarr stood.  Like a well rehearsed operation, her guards strung the four chains through eyebolts then fastened the chains at a point beyond Tassel's reach.  From her position, she could face either of the two tables or the bench before her, but could not step off her platform.

No sooner had the hares retreated than the door before her opened.  Captain Greypaw, wearing his best dress uniform, marched three paces into the room, and lifted the pike he carried as high as possible.  When the hare brought his arm down, the butt end of the shaft struck the marble flooring.  Thunder echoed through the room.  In the ensuing silence, the hare spoke in a voice devoid of emotion, yet loud enough all could hear his invocation.

Three woodlanders entered the room.  A female squirrel entered first and the Captain introduced her as Lady Sudditta.  She wore a black dress falling halfway between the floor and her knees.  Unlike the previous day, neither her deep red fur nor her garments were festooned with bright gems.  The only adornment she wore was a golden tail ring etched with the emblem of the Red Maple Tribe.

A male otter entered next and the Captain addressed him as Chief Merkez.  As he took his seat, he hung the ornate walking stick he used on a peg.  Like the female squirrel, his black attire remained bereft of any fancy baubles.  Only a silver collar around his neck and the large blue stone hanging from its center added color to his dark outfit.

The third judge Tassel knew.  The Father Abbot strolled to the central chair and with a flick of his wrist, hitched his green habit over the chair's back.  As Father Draccon adjusted his garments, his posture turned rigid, as if some artisan carved him into the wooden chair.  From his elevated position he stared down at her with a sour expression.  A wave of his paw indicated all should sit.

Tassel looked behind her, but seeing no chair, started to recline on the floor.  The sharp voice of Corporal Sweetleaf hissing like an angered adder kept her on her feet.  The Father Abbot banged a hammer on the table.

"The prisoner shall not speak unless asked a direct question.  Is this understood?"  Tassel made no response other than a simple nod.  After a short pause the Father Abbot lowered his hammer.  "Very well, would the prosecution open this tribunal?"

Vindicarr walked around the table and came to parade rest a pace closer to the raised table.  The overhead lamp highlighted the hare's brown fur, giving it a radiant luster.  The hare executed a slight turn, and now the light flashed off his many medals.  He glanced over his shoulder, making eye contact with her before facing the three judges seated in front.  For several seconds he remained quiet and the crowd waited.

"This is a straight-forward case.  The defendant has been declared vermin, since she was captured as a member of a pirate crew.  As vermin, the prisoner losses all rights under our law, including the right to a trial.  However, King Meles has ordered a judicial proceeding at a neutral location where the defendant can be given a fair hearing.  Were we to act in haste, others might judge our actions contrary to civilized standards.  Our Alliance must be based on laws, not the emotions of those wronged."

Once again the hare glared at Tassel before addressing the three judges.  "The accused willfully committed murder, assisted other vermin in the commission of piracy on the high seas, and is responsible for enslaving others.  There can be no forgiveness; there can be no excuse, and there is no other verdict than death."

Merkez stared first at Tassel, who stood in the witness box and then at Vindicarr.  He shook his head as if awakening from a bad dream.  "Such major crimes for one so young defy belief, sir."

Lady Sudditta rested her muzzle on the fingers of her interlocked paws while the tip of her bushy tail twitched a few inches over her head.  "I do believe you make a valid point, Chief Merkez.  We can resolve it by asking the prisoner."  Though her body never moved, her eyes locked on Tassel.  "State your age, girl."

Tassel gave a quick glance to the hares behind her and then to Lady Pellanore.  When none made any overt motion compelling her silence, she faced the squirrel.  "My sixteenth year started five days prior to these long-eared killers coming to our lands.  Since then, I believe half a year has passed.  I cannot be more precise."

The Father Abbot's expression never changed as he listened to the conversation of his fellow judges.  "The age of the badger prisoner is immaterial.  Though technically still a dibbun, Tassel is old enough she should understand right from wrong; it is all one needs to know.  We can debate later among ourselves if a period of time less than two years is sufficient for her to avoid the responsibilities of an elder." 

Using the hammer as if it were a pointer, the shrew turned his attention to the hare.  "You made some bold accusations, sir.  Can you prove them to this court's satisfaction?"

Vindicarr held his arms out before dropping them to his side.  "Whatever proof I had was left behind at the Fiery Mountain Fortress.  Our rapid departure prevented me from carrying such documentation."

Lady Pellanore jumped up with such vigor her chair toppled.  While Corporal Sweetleaf righted it, the older badger moved before the table.  However, the shrew stopped any comment with an upraised paw.

"Apparently King Meles anticipated my request for evidence." 

A wave of his paw caused a stir among the crowd sitting on the benches.  All looked to the back where six mice lugged a large crate forward.  They placed it behind Vindicarr's table and withdrew.  The murmuring crowd quieted when Father Dracon lifted his hammer.  He placed it back on the table.

"These records, along with mail from residents still serving in your army, came late yesterday evening.  Their arrival was delayed by an early blizzard that hit Fiery Mountain.  It kept everyone inside for six days and slowed travel between our Abbey and your king.  I trust these documents will suffice."

Former General Vindicarr pounced on the opened crate, his fingers rifling through the many papers.  With a simple exclamation, he slid one scroll out of the box.  He held it up for all to see.  The hare approached the Father Abbot and handed the document to him.  Both squirrel and otter joined the shrew in reading the proffered paper.

"What you have there is the proclamation declaring this prisoner vermin.  As required by military law, it has the signatures of twelve soldiers, half enlisted and half officers, who can confirm the validity of these charges.  It speaks of those she killed and what she did in their first encounter.  Since this document is the sworn affidavit of honorable soldiers still in combat, each signature required them to swear they personally witnessed these actions."

Lady Pellanore laughed.  Such an unexpected sound caught everyone's attention and each muzzle swiveled in the direction of the defense counselor.  Pulling out a kerchief, she daubed her eyes while exaggerating her efforts at regaining her composure.  She approached the bench and read what was for her, an upside down document.  With a wave of her paw, she dismissed it.

"What we have here is the after action report of a battle, not a valid charge.  Based on your dinner talk General, there were many creatures involved in the battle on both sides.  How could any soldier identify Tassel with absolute certainty?"

The brown hare maintained his military posture, his attitude one of a superior addressing a less than intelligent underling.  "Were this the actions of a mouse, mole, or ferret, I would agree.  There were so many fighting on both sides of the conflict.  But not when it came to badgers.  In this particular campaign, our allied badgers were fighting on another island, which made her presence memorable by its very uniqueness."

All three judges conferred.  Whispered comments flew between them until each nodded their heads in agreement.  The Father Abbot placed the document to the side.  "You may have declared her vermin by your law, but it holds no power here.  If it did, we need only pick the time and place of her execution.  This paper merely attests to her ferocity in battle or the lack of training by those she encountered; neither of which is criminal."

"Unless this trial anticipates charging the military for such a failure."  Lady Sudditta's quip caused a wave of chuckles throughout the room.

After another search through the box, Vindicarr presented another document.  "Surely you'll not dispute these slaving raids along our shores are criminal?  Our king has declared such actions those of villains deserving no mercy.  If you dismiss the words of honorable soldiers, will you accept the depositions of her fellow conspirators?  I can provide evidence supporting pirate raids where civilians disappeared, as well as a list of those liberated since this war started."

The Father Abbot unraveled the next scroll.  When he finished with the first page, it went to Lady Sudditta, then to Chief Merkez before being returned to the Father Abbot.  While the otter maintained a blank expression, there was no hiding the affect on the other two judges.  The squirrel's tail drooped close to the floor while the shrew's mouth gapped wider and wider as the panel of judges read.

"I have a lot more if you need them, your honor."  Vindicarr's syrupy voice may have sounded helpful, but it also contained a smug note to it.  The brown hare lifted other scrolls out of the box and proffered them to those sitting in judgment.  Each time one of the panel shifted their eyes away from the document they read, the hare prosecutor waved another scroll he discovered and added it to the pile.

Four times the hallway clock chimed the quarter hour as each judge scanned the material submitted.  While the three judges read or made notes, Vindicarr summarized the pertinent points covered in the documents for the attending crowd.  As the badger's actions were described, every resident within the makeshift courtroom debated Tassel's actions with whichever resident sat closest.  The noise grew in volume.

Father Draccon banged the hammer, stilling the crowd.  "I'm not convinced.  Were I to believe these documents, either this child is the greatest warrior ever known or she has somehow managed to appear in more than one place at the same time."  The brown hare's hackles rose, no doubt ready to defend the honor of those soldiers still fighting the war. 

The Father Abbot stopped him before he could speak.  "I don't doubt the honesty of the soldiers making such statements, but I'm wondering how much is post-battle hysteria or the suggestive talk of superiors to those underlings attesting to the validity of these charges."

Lady Sudditta then commented.  "Shall we reconvene at a later time?  If we are to render a fair judgment, we must read these accusations in depth.  As the Father Abbot said, I'm not convinced.  Perhaps if we have more time, alone, we may find the truth."

When the otter concurred, the three judges gathered all the documents on their table and with a hurried step, exited the hall through the door they used earlier.  For a long moment the crowd remained seated, uncertain as to what would happen next.  The hare guards released the prisoner's chains.  The residents filed out the opposite end of the Tapestry Hallway whispering with neighbors or friends about the proceedings thus far.

Corporal Sweetleaf led Tassel back to the Dormitory with the Badgermom following.  As the contingent of guards reached the cloth room, the hares made to secure the chains to the iron ring.  Lady Pellanore made a loud growl.  Every hare hesitated.

"You will leave her unfettered once she reaches this room."  Corporal Sweetleaf made an effort at registering a complaint, but the Badgermom remained adamant.  "Tassel has gone a full day and two nights without restraints.  If she intended escaping or causing harm, she would have done so before now.  On my responsibility, no chains will be used while she resides within this dormitory."

The hares complied, though Corporal Sweetleaf insisted she be allowed to post two guards outside the door as a precaution.  Badgermom Pellanore stood next to Tassel with her paw draped across her shoulders, effectively holding her in place.  When the hares exited the room, Lady Pellanore whispered into Tassel's ear.

"Don't make me regret this decision.  Be on your best behavior."

[cairn destop]

Interlude to a Trial

The older badger hadn't been gone for even a moment when an unexpected face poked into the cloth cell.  Her black fur stood out in stark contrast to the white sheet and her deep green eyes flashed with an inner fire, yet her voice came across as solicitous. 

"Quite a show General Vindicarr put on today."

The squirrel avoided Tassel since her arrival.  If she did speak, it was at Tassel and not to her.  Whenever the squirrel got the chance, she harped on her status as vermin or repeated stories about her parent's gallant exploits.  Never did she miss an opportunity reminding her she fought for the wrong faction in the war the Northern Alliance waged against the seafaring pirates. Despite her endearing tone, Tassel remained guarded.  It seemed too out of character for the squirrel to show such interest in her, especially after her actions the previous day. 

"Something you want to know, Robertasin, or are you just curious?"

Now Robertasin stood within the cell.  "I've always wondered how many badgers were on your island when our Alliance forces arrived."

"Since my mother's death when I was five, there have been no other badgers serving Lord Tinsaur, though I did hear stories of several living on another island a week's journey south, but they served another noble."

The squirrel's eyebrows rose when Tassel said the name.  Then Robertasin's eyes changed from inquisitive to deep hostility.  In the next instant the squirrel launched herself at Tassel with claws and fangs bared.  She had no time to react and the enraged squirrel bowled her heavier opponent off her feet and onto her back.  Sounding an ear-piercing shriek, Robertasin resumed her offensive.

Tassel tried pushing the black-furred demon off without success.  She tried dodging the crazed beast.  It proved impossible in such a restricted space.  With tooth and claw Robertasin maintained a vigorous offensive.  If not for the command of Lady Pellanore, Tassel would have unleashed her version of an attack, but she refrained.  However, such restraint has it limits, and she felt the anger rise within her.

Cloth ripped and the walls of Tassel's cell collapsed to the floor when two hares charged into the fracas.  Each hare hesitated as they sheathed their drawn weapons, not sure how to separate the combatants.  Their hesitation allowed another resident the opportunity at resolving the altercation.

With the speed of a lightning bolt, Lady Pellanore snagged the squirrel's whipping tail.  Having established a paw hold, she pulled the crazed squirrel into a firm hug, which restrained the snarling beast.  In spite of the strong arms holding her, Robertasin fought with such intensity the Badgermom requested the assistance of the hares.

Robertasin continued screaming at Tassel with words no female should ever use until Corporal Sweetleaf managed to grab the squirrel's muzzle and hold it shut.  Still, all could hear her muffled shouts of murderer interspaced with some dire threat as she continued struggling.  A deep snarl from the Badgermom finally silenced the squirrel.

"When the hare releases your muzzle, you will speak as a dignified lady or I'll give you a reason for howling while over my knee."  Lady Pellanore nodded and the hare release the squirrel's muzzle.  When Robertasin made no immediate resumption of the tirade, the Badgermom asked the obvious question.

Wrenching herself free of the older badger's paws, Robertasin pointed at Tassel.  "I received a letter from mother today, I now know she killed my father when she escaped aboard the vermin's flagship.  Tassel even admitted it when she said she was the only badger living there.  According to mother's letter, father died during a fight on an island ruled by Lord Tinsaur."

"I can understand your anger, but that gives you no right to attack any guest within this Abbey.  You will apologize for causing this disturbance and promise there will be no further fighting."

Robertasin's tail whipped from side to side and her eyes remained fixed on Tassel.  "Never.  If you leave us together, there will be no need for a trial.  I'll kill this vermin beastie myself."

Lady Pellanore's expression reflected her disappointment.  "Then you will follow me to the Father Abbot's office.  Perhaps we can find temporary accommodations for you until the trial ends."

Peace returned as everyone filed out of the room.  Just then, the other dormitory residents returned.  The four youngsters came to a standstill as they surveyed the carnage before them.  No longer did the sheets hang like a wall, they were strewed about the floor.  Though there was no blood, tuffs of badger fur floated in the drafty room.

The youngest member of the quartet approached Tassel, oblivious to the wreckage.  The hogget pushed her way through the older teens as she marched up to her.  One look at the hogget's dirty dress and Tassel knew the girl had been in some fierce fracas.  There was no hiding the angry tone in Shortspike's voice as she held her doll before her like a shield.

"Miss Stickerback has been telling my silly schoolmates you're not a silly vermin.  All of them say you're evil.  Even my silly teachers are giving Miss Stickerback trouble 'cause she likes you.  Tell Miss Stickerback you're a good badger."

Kneeling down to the girl's level, Tassel spoke to the doll as if it were a living beast.  "What all your classmates and teachers tell you is true.  The things they say I did don't come even close to what I have done, and I'm proud I did those things.  If that makes me something evil, so be it."

Shortspike's eyes brimmed with unshed tears before she shouted her denial.  With a stamp of her foot, the youngster turned and darted from the room, the sound of her weeping hanging like a dark cloud on what should have been a sunny day.  Both male hedgehogs followed the hogget.

Henrietta remained behind and waited until the door closed with an audible click.  The girl's expression shocked Tassel, the vole's eyes burned with an intensity matching the enraged squirrel.  Her body shook and her paws flexed into fists as she stomped closer to her.  Tassel wondered if her friend intended a physical altercation.

"Just what were you thinking?  That girl is about the only resident supporting you, and you go and tell her you're evil?"

Tassel leaned against the back wall and slid to a seated position on the floor, her voice devoid of any emotion.  "I'm tired of fighting elders who have already decided my fate.  First it was where I lived, then deep under a mountain, and now here.  If I'm going to die, let it be because I was honest."

"I can understand why you're feeling sorry for yourself, but I know what can help you."

Going over to one of the beds, Henrietta flipped open the footlocker.  Her paw disappeared within and what she lifted had Tassel gasp in amazement.  There was the Dibbun Day gift Tassel had discarded, still covered in the fancy cloth wrappings.  The vole moved before her and placed the box in Tassel's paws.

"A child like Shortspike thinks her special gift is provided by a benevolent spirit, but those of us who are older know they come from our elders.  Since we spent some time together, Lady Pellanore asked me what I thought would be an appropriate gift.  I didn't understand why you left it behind until those two mean hares demanded you give it back.  Good thing I slipped your present in my dress pocket or I couldn't give it to you now."

Once again Tassel examined the wrapped object, but this time her claws snapped the cloth seams.  The white cloth fell away revealing a long box with a carved lid.  Its crisscrossing markings gave it a woven appearance Tassel knew it must have taken some artisan a long time in making.  A brass latch held the box shut, but flipped open with ease when her claw flicked it upward.

Without looking, she reached inside.  Tassel's paw snagged the first object and withdrew it.  Her eyes squinted as she examined the curious item.  Its purpose defied her.  Tassel held onto a wooden handle with an oval loop of metal that resembled a double-edged saw.  One side of the metal band had long teeth that came to a point while the other side had a row of shorter, but rounded teeth.  When Tassel slid her finger over the edge, she could feel the sharpness of the metal teeth.

"What you're holding is often referred to as a large whip.  When a dibbun is old enough, this is the first thing an elder will give them as a gift."

She dropped the object and the ornate box as if they were poisonous snakes.  "And you have the nerve calling me vermin?  What kind of monsters would give such a thing to a child and have the audacity to call it a gift?"

Henrietta's expression went from confused to a mischievous grin.  Bending down, she gathered the box and the large whip.  The vole then grabbed Tassel's wrist and pulled her.  Though the vole was smaller, her insistence had Tassel following her to the far end of the room.  Henrietta pushed her way into an adjoining room.

The sharp odor of soap assaulted Tassel's nose when the door closed behind her.  At the far end of the room was a bench where Henrietta ordered her to sit.  Giving a gentle push, she positioned Tassel sitting on the edge facing her.

Henrietta grabbed her left arm, the teen vole held it tight as she raised the large whip.  "Think it's time somebody used this on you."

Using a quick stroke, Henrietta struck her arm.  Tassel's yelp had the vole giggling as she latched onto her arm once more.  Again the vole struck the same spot.  Tassel flinched and whimpered.  After the fifth pull, she no longer resisted and the vole used the whip with a practiced ease.

An incredulous Tassel opened her eyes, following the motions of the unusual apparatus.  "I have never heard of a whipping one would call enjoyable.  Such sharp edges, and yet it doesn't cut?"

Now Henrietta laughed as she stopped what she was doing.  "I know it was a cruel thing for me to do, but I couldn't resist."  The vole held the object up for her visual inspection.  "This is also called a fur whip; it's a common grooming tool used to remove matted fur.  One side is for your thicker winter coat while the other is for summer use.  Now do me a favor and keep your eyes closed until I tell you."

Though Tassel couldn't see what was happening, Henrietta kept up a steady monologue on her progress.  Several times she bemoaned the fact she couldn't take her down to the groomer's shop where she worked, but kept assuring Tassel others considered her a competent stylist.  Whenever she used a different tool, the vole identified it.

After what seemed too short a time, Henrietta pulled Tassel's arm.  She asked her to stand.  They walked a few steps before Henrietta asked Tassel to open her eyes.  The first fleeting glance into the looking glass was enough to have Tassel slam her eyelids shut.  Now she understood everyone's aversion.  A paw rested on her shoulder and gave a gentle rub.

"There's nothing I can do about your face.  Even our healer said your disfigurement cannot be repaired.  Please open your eyes."

"You said it yourself; my face would crack a mirror.  I prefer not being reminded just how ugly I am since I see the reaction in everyone's face."

In spite of her angry tone, Henrietta pleaded.  "Yes, I said that and you are ugly, but I know the girl behind the face.  She's somebody I'm proud to call friend."

"And doesn't my status as a criminal and a vermin affect you?"

The vole clicked her tongue before replying.  "My mother said every story has two sides and the truth always lies somewhere between them.  I'm willing to hear yours before I make any judgment."

Once more Tassel opened her eyes and stared into the mirror.  She gazed upon her full reflection and not just her face.  Never had she seen her fur glisten with such luster.   Tassel couldn't remember ever looking into a reflecting pool and thinking her matted fur worthy of any praise.  What she saw now was a pelt worthy of compliments.

Just then another commotion broke out in the dormitory.  One voice called for Tassel while a different voice summoned guards.  Henrietta shouted from the washroom.  She assured everyone Tassel was with her.  A few seconds later, Badgermom Pellanore strolled into the room.

"It seems our good Father Abbot has decided we will be reconvening the trial in another fifteen minutes."  Lady Pellanore froze in place.  "Best ... we  ... be ... ready ....  My word, just look at you, girl."

Tassel turned in place, admiring the results of her first grooming.  She could see where the fur needed trimming, but her coat had a luster to it reminiscent of General Vindicarr's appearance.  No longer did she appear like something dragged about, now she felt pride.  It gave her a newfound sense of confidence.

"I'm tired of being kicked around by every creature I meet.  I know I'm supposed to lose this trial, but I'm not going to just surrender."  The gravel in her voice turned her shouted words into a snarl.  "If it's a fight they want, I'm ready.  Let the war begin!"

[cairn destop]

The Trial – Part Two

"I'll give Lady Pellanore another ten minutes and then I'm sending somebody out to find her."

An irritated Father Abbot toyed with the hammer he used as a gavel as he sat between his fellow judges.  A quick glance to either side confirmed the others were becoming just as impatient.  Lady Sudditta might look bored, but the constant swishing of the squirrel's tail shouted her agitation.  Then there was the inscrutable otter, Chief Merkez.  It was a good thing his claws were well-trimmed or there would be three deep indentations in the table where he drummed his fingers.

If the judges were getting antsy from the long wait, those gathered for the trial were also restless.  First, a bench creaked when one resident shifted his position.  Then two or more engaged in a whispered conversation.  Other conversations filled the room with a continual buzz.  Unless Lady Pellanore arrived soon, the observers would be shouting to friends and neighbors as if this were the common room.

Father Draccon scanned the room and spotted the badger approaching from the back of the hallway.  Speaking over the din of the spectators, he let his annoyance come to the fore.  Now they could resume.

"Such a pleasure you deemed our gathering worthy of your attendance.  When you take your place, we can continue, unless something else vies for your attention."

Lady Pellanore never responded to the reprimanding tone.  She held her peace as she stood behind the table where she sat earlier.  She turned in place, gazing back along the path she had just walked.  Everyone mirrored her action.  Even he focused his attention on the far side of the hallway.

At the very back of the hallway stood the defendant.  Tassel held her head high.  She hesitated just a second, than she strolled forward.  Each step she took came at a measured cadence, which allowed everyone time to appraise her appearance.  Those who remembered the grungy attire worn earlier gazed with wide-eyed stares at a badger dressed in the finest of gowns.  Only the metallic bracelets encasing her wrists and ankles marred the image of a debutant parading before a room filled to overflowing with eligible mates.

Tassel took her place with decorum in the defendant's box.  In quick order the trailing hares strung the chains they carried and fastened them to the young badger's manacles.   Finished, the hares retreated three paces, which placed them halfway between the onlookers and the court's officers.  They assumed a parade rest stance.

Throughout this entire performance, General Vindicarr remained seated, his eyes following the movements of Tassel.  When he heard the Father Abbot clear his throat, he jumped to his feet.  In a voice expressing his indignation, the hare protested.  He then directed a comment to Captain Greypaw, who remained at attention behind the three judges, regarding the breach in protocol.

"Oh do be silent.  The hares were following my orders, so if you have problems with their actions, direct your concerns to me," said the elder badger.

"Lady Pellanore, those hares serve this court, not you," General Vindicarr retorted.

The prosecutor's fist pounded the table as he spoke those last two words.  His eyes blazed at the older badger while his long whiskers twitched and his ears lowered.  Before he could continue with his tirade, the sound of a hammer striking a wooden table brought everything to a sudden halt.

"I would agree this is a breach of court etiquette, but your remarks should be directed to this panel, not your opponent."  Father Draccon rearranged his robes before leaning back in his seat.  "However, none of us called you to task about your actions this morning.  A retired officer who must resort to grandstanding by wearing your uniform and its medals?  I even wondered if you practiced where and how to stand so we got a full view of your awards.  Such actions are undignified.  This panel has noted your honorable service to your king, but it will not influence my decisions.  Let's move on with this trial.  Chief Merkez, will you relay our findings?"

Merkez hesitated a moment before he spoke.  "We have reviewed much of your documentation and can ascertain the defendant was involved in two campaigns, one on the island estate of a fox named Lord Tinsaur and another on an unnamed island where this same Lord Tinsaur died in battle.  We need only ask the defendant if these facts are accurate."

Like the sound of water rushing through a rocky brook, Lady Sudditta laughed.  "My dear sir, what would we gain?  If Tassel is a dibbun, to avoid punishment, she will lie.  If she is an elder, her answer will come with an explanation just as imaginative.  We must determine the truth without confusing the facts of our findings."

General Vindicarr addressed the three judges with a soothing voice.  "I do hope this court recognizes the noble action of our soldiers as liberators against such a vermin scourge.  It would be most disconcerting if this is one of those confusing facts you mentioned, my lady."

***

The defendant let out a loud roar.  In her fury, she disregarded the cuffs cutting deep into her wrists as her fists pounded into the unyielding wooden rail.  Droplets of blood stained the floor.  Tassel turned in place.  Now she faced the hare prosecutor.  Standing tall, her gravelly voice carried to all within the room.

"Noble action?  Liberators?  Your soldiers invaded our lands, attacked us without cause, and killed all who stood before you, defenders and slaves alike."  Tassel wept, the tears tracking down the sides of her muzzle.  "Including my four-year-old daughter."

Bedlam broke out within the courtroom.  Shouts from both the hare and Lady Pellanore were directed at the three judges.  Father Dracon used his hammer in an attempt to restore the court's decorum.  Even the crowd of observers added to the din.  Yet Tassel heard none of this as her mind returned to the special day when she became a mother.

Spring arrived a little earlier than usual, and now the winter wheat needed harvesting.  One of Lord Tinsaur's subordinates assigned three slaves to the task and so she joined two others at the designated field.  Since no taskmaster joined them, all were in a jovial mood. 

Of the three, the lone male was a tall mouse who used a knife to cut the string feeding out of his pocket into manageable lengths.  Next to him strolled a female hedgehog with a belly that announced the imminent arrival of her offspring.  Tassel trailed the two elders, carrying a scythe. 

"Why would our taskmaster order you to work?"  The mouse flicked one of the lengths of cord at the hedgehog, landing a powerless blow on her distended belly.  "You look like you're ready to deliver any day now."

"By my count, I was due four days back.  As to why I'm here, I believe our master has grown impatient for the arrival of his newest slave."  The hedgehog patted her distended belly.  "When this babe comes, I'm sure it will be at the most inconvenient of times."

"What say you take the easier task of threshing the bound wheat bundles?  With no taskmaster, you can go at a slower pace.  Tassel is a real pro with her blade and we should be able to give you a paw before too long.  We'll still be done before nightfall as this is such a small field."

From the rear, Tassel blurted out a question that had kept her silent while walking from camp with the two elders.  "Why doesn't your mate help us?"

Now the hedgehog rattled her quills.  "For the last three years I rowed some merchant ship as an oar slave.  Last time I came in heat, I became pregnant.  Thank the Eternals my Captain decided to trade me for another on this island instead of throwing me overboard.  If I knew he would do that, I would have given in to some male's lust the very first time I came in season."

Tassel scratched her head, confused by the conversation.  The two elders walking before her laughed.  Then the mouse called back to her.  "You're not yet ready to learn all the facts of life just yet, missy.  Anyway, there's the field; let's get busy."

For the next two hours, Tassel swung the scythe and the mouse tied the wheat into manageable bundles.  When he had a dozen, he carried them to the threshing floor for the hedgehog.  Upon his return, the mouse would scoop up whatever more she had cut while he was gone and the whole process would be repeated.

Late in the afternoon, he again returned from the threshing floor.  This time he shouted out to her.  "Tassel, come quick, I can't find our lady hedgehog."

Rushing to the threshing floor, they couldn't see anyone.  Then a weak, but persistent cry could be heard from a nearby ditch.  Following the sound, they came across the body of the female hedgehog.  Next to her laid a whimpering babe.  The mouse located a large rock and went to lift it, but Tassel stayed his paws.

"Best this babe die a swift death now instead of a slow one starving, Tassel."  Again the mouse went to lift the rock but for a second time, Tassel stopped him.

"There's an otter in our barracks who had kits last week.  If she agrees, she can nurse this little one.  At least give the babe a chance."  She blocked the mouse, challenging her elder.  "Let me raise her.  I know I can do it."

"This be no pet cricket you can enjoy for a season, Tassel.  You're committing yourself for a lifetime."  They stared at each other, neither conceding to the other.  The mouse dropped the rock.  "Very well, what will you call her?"

"Her mother was separating wheat from the chaff because chaff is considered useless.  I'll call her Chaff so every time you hear her name, you'll be reminded of this day and how you thought her life worthless."

The continual banging of the hammer brought Tassel's mind back to her present predicament.  With the help of Captain Greypaw's commanding voice, the Father Abbot regained control of the courtroom.  Silence once more.

***

Rising to his full height, Father Dracon pointed his hammer at the prosecutor, demanding a reason why no casualty report showed the death of a badger pup.  The two other judges flipped through the documents on their table. 

Tassel interrupted the sputtering hare.  "My daughter was a hedgehog, not a badger pup."

Now the prosecutor laughed.  "Then she cannot be your daughter.  By law, a mother must be of the same species."

Corporal Sweetleaf tried silencing Tassel, but nothing could keep her quiet.  "I taught Chaff how to walk and talk.  She came to me when she wanted comfort and it was my paw that warmed her bottom when she was naughty.  It was I who tended to her needs and ministered to her when she was sick.  Sure sounds like the definition of a mother to me."

Lady Pellanore rose.  "Your Honors, it defines my duties too.  I have been mother to many a child, regardless of their breed.  Many of them still reside within this Abbey."

General Vindicarr bowed to the older badger before addressing the three judges.  "I disagree.  You are their guardian, not their mother.  The law is quite clear on those definitions.  Need I remind this court the preliminary reports did not list any dibbun as being killed during either battle?"

Lady Sudditta leaned back and unlatched her fingers.  She raised her paw, which silenced the hare prosecutor.  "What this prisoner believed is for speculation.  It doesn't change what she did.  However, she has made a serious charge and I'm curious how she intends proving it.  I know she cannot present verifiable evidence, but I shall give her words more weight than yours since she had no expectation of a trial."

"One of my duties was fletching arrows and crossbow bolts.  We used feathers from an albatross with the chicken dyed sky blue.  The one that killed Chaff had two gull feathers with a crow's as the chicken.  When I held my daughter's lifeless body, I swore I would kill every hare and any beast standing between me and my vengeance.  My one regret is not killing more of those long-eared murderers."

Vindicarr bolted upright and pointed at Tassel.  "What need have we of further evidence?  By her own words, she admits to willingly helping these pirates.  That alone is sufficient cause to be declared vermin.  She has confirmed the facts reported to us in the documents you have read.  Regardless of her reasons, she helped these outlaws, which makes her guilty of their crimes as an accomplice.  Justice demands she suffer their fate."

Lady Pellanore rose from her seat.  "How many here remember a female otter named Swiftstream?  No matter what she did to please the male she married, when he drank, he abused her and his kits.  Even you, Father Abbot, tried convincing her she had to leave her mate.  Yet she defended him right up to the morning before he killed them all in a drunken rage."

Father Draccon twirled the hammer between his two paws as he scrunched his brow.  After a moment, he raised his muzzle.  "If you are trying to make a point, I don't see the relevance, Lady Pellanore."

"Swiftstream was as much a captive as Tassel.  They both did what they needed to survive.  The difference is this young badger knew no alternative.  For her, slavery was right and proper.  Like Swiftstream, none of us can fully comprehend why Tassel did what she did."

Chief Merkez spoke up when the Badgermom finished.  "Are you telling us we shouldn't exact justice for her crimes?  General Vindicarr is correct.  Her complicity makes her just as guilty as those who did these unspeakable crimes against our fellow woodlanders."

"We cannot condemn her for doing whatever it took to live another day.  None condemned Swiftstream for placating a drunken abuser.  When she died at her mate's paws, we felt sympathy for her and her kits."

Lady Pellanore took her seat and stared into the eyes of each judge.  "Yes, Tassel should be punished for her actions, but any punishment must be tempered with justice.  In her mind, there was no wrong committed.  Like the youngest of dibbuns, she must be taught what proper behavior is, and it cannot be learned at the end of a rope."

Father Draccon rose, which silenced any further debate.  "Your words will be considered, Lady Pellanore.  Unless there is a need to hear additional arguments, I believe we can now retire to deliberate the defendant's fate."

The Father Abbot turned first to his left and then to his right.  The two judges nodded their head in agreement.  In unison, the otter and squirrel rose.

"We shall advise you of our decision.  General Vindicarr, Lady Pellanore, if we have any questions, we'll seek your input.  For now, our investigation is completed.  We read the evidence, have heard your positions, and now must retire for our deliberations."

Together the three judges retreated out the door leaving those in the courtroom to disperse at their own pace. 

[cairn destop]

Flip Side to a Coin

Stiles floated out of the room.  His feet moved, yet he knew not where they took him.  The Counsel of Elders relieved him of all duties.  The Chief Recorder and Historian sent him home.  Yet there was no reason for him returning to his residence.  His mate remained in the Infirmary and would be there for another day or two.  Even his diapered son was missing, spending this day and the next with Redwall's resident nanny.

Despite the lack of rest from a night and day without sleep, he felt giddy.  Elders who passed him while he moved through Redwall's hallway either tittered or grinned.  He needed no looking glass to guess his expression.  Though the miracle happened less than an hour ago, the Abbey's grapevine already had the news.

Without conscience thought, he traced a path beyond his residence and back to his place of work.  He climbed the stairs and glided to his office.  He needed an outlet for all his energy.  Perhaps something needed his attention.  Once inside, a gravelly voice broke the spell weaved earlier and startled him back to reality.

"Congratulations, Mister Stiles.  Did Trestlerose have a boy or girl?"

"We have a beautiful daughter, though her pelt is so thin right now, we're not sure if she will be a light brown like me or a darker shade like my mate."  Mister Stiles shook his head as he took his seat.  "We still haven't selected a name.  Maybe we can do it tomorrow when Trestlerose feels less exhausted.  She fell asleep right after the bonding and nothing I did roused her.  Our healer said go home and rest; I couldn't."

"I figured you would be here, so I came for the news from the source.  I'm very happy for you."  Badgermom Tassel scratched one of her ears.  "If you would prefer me leaving you alone with your thoughts, I'll understand."

Stiles rubbed his bloodshot eyes before he replied.  "Going over this history with you will be a good distraction.  I just wished the official record gave your side of the story."

Tassel nodded.  "The judges interviewed me and conferred with Lady Pellanore and Vindicarr several times.  I remember them saying they saw no need for a written record during these private conferences as their questions were for clarification of the facts.  I know they kept notes as I saw them writing whenever we talked, but there was no transcription taken by a recorder, like they did during the trial.  It always bothered me when the judges asked for the facts and not the reasons whenever they asked a question about my actions."

"Well I can tell you Lady Sudditta still cannot believe you thought a healer docking your tail a service for your betters you were proud to do, and neither can I.  What I have seen of their personal records show you defended slavery, which seems so out of character for you.  Unless what I heard of your fight with a slaver fox were exaggerations."

The badger laughed.  "Back then I did defend slavery, which shocked my teachers.  One insisted I learn my letters by reading personal accounts about slavery.  It opened my eyes and now I realize it is a terrible evil.  Just a word of warning; those who are converted to a cause become its greatest zealots."

The scribe rubbed his muzzle a few times as he considered Tassel's words.  "We have the time; why not tell me your side?  That is the purpose of our meetings."

"What I am about to say has never been told before, even my mate knows nothing of my past.  You will be the first ever to hear my story.  So let me start with that fateful day and go from there."  The badger stared at the ceiling for several moments before she started.  Over the ensuing hours, Stiles wrote everything he heard.  Pages tumbled from his desk as the Badgermom related her history.  It took several sessions, but soon the story's pieces fell into place. 

* * *

In a cabin near the harbor, over a dozen female slaves slept.  All were exhausted from their labors tending to the crops and did not stir when an intruder entered.  Standing with paws akimbo, the fellow bellowed his command that all awaken.  Such an unexpected interruption had those within the room grumbling as they stirred, but not too loud.  None wanted the uniformed taskmaster angered by their actions.

One female pouted over her interrupted sleep to Tassel, who slept next to her.  "Momma T, it's still dark outside.  Do we have to get up now?"

Tassel gazed at the young hogget lying next to her and ruffled the fur on her belly.  "I know, Chaff, but our masters need us, so get those paws washed before we eat."

She watched as the girl weaved her way through the crowd.  When the young hedgehog entered the washroom, Tassel folded their blankets.  As she did the child's, she discovered the strip of dingy yellow cloth had slipped out of her head spikes during the night.  Tassel knew the girl would return wondering where she dropped it; she pocketed the one decorative item Chaff treasured.

"Why have her here working in the field," inquired an old otter.  The lady pointed with her chin in Chaff's direction.  "She should stay back at the nursery with the other dibbuns too young to work."

"Didn't you enjoy the dipper of water she carried yesterday?  I have her do small tasks, like carrying drinking water for the field workers.  By observing us, she learns."  Tassel then chuckled when she noticed the hedgehog's frantic waving.  "Besides, her friends think she's so lucky working with the elders.  It makes her feel special."

True to her prediction, Chaff whined about the loss of her treasured ribbon.  But the pout turned into joyful squeals when Tassel pulled it out of her pocket.  Chaff bounced in place as Tassel weaved it into her head spikes, tying the two frayed ends under her chin. 

Once they gathered their morning meal, mother and daughter found a comfortable spot where they could gaze out to sea.  Though the sky remained inky, the lights of an approaching ship appeared just beyond the harbor.  A few seconds later, three signal fires flared to life on the shore.

Pointing out the vessel, Tassel exclaimed "There's the reason why we got up this early.  That ship will need strong paws loading and unloading cargo."  Giving the hogget a light squeeze, she whispered in her ear.  "While we do that, grab a broom and sweep the warehouse.  Our masters like things clean and they will be so proud of you."

Tassel was right about their assignment.  Their masters herded a contingent of slaves towards the collection of buildings near one wharf.  Inside the warehouse, several slaves grabbed rope and pulleys before returning to the dock.  Others organized the material going outbound according to their taskmaster's instructions. 

While the slaves moved the cargo, Chaff grabbed a broom and dashed to the area where anything offloaded would be placed.  As Tassel expected, the weasel taskmaster said nothing about the child when she left.  Chaff would remain busy while she worked with the others.  Even the ship's cargo would go to another warehouse, so Chaff remained out of harm's way, but still feel useful.

As Tassel joined the dock crew, a male otter pointed toward the approaching ship.  "That's not the merchant ship we expected, it's a warship."

All followed the otter's finger, and stared at the sleek profile of the ship entering the harbor.  Then their taskmaster issued new orders.  Cargo was moved back into the warehouse while the ship's stores were hustled to the dock.  If things were hectic before somebody identified the warship, pandemonium broke out when one of the guards recognized the warship as Lord Tinsaur's flagship.

Tassel raced toward the holding pens where those consigned to the oars awaited the next inbound warship.  She had a momentary twinge of pity for those unfortunates who displeased their master and found themselves here.  They would serve aboard this ship for as many voyages as he deemed appropriate for their misdeeds.  Like the hedgehog who had been Chaff's natural mother, anyone released from such a service lost any latent rebellious spirit in their efforts never to return.

No sooner had Tassel herded the chained slaves into the holding pen than a loud siren shrieked.  Atop the watchtower, a stoat rush up the rungs, his paws a blur as he raced to his post.  Once there, he cranked up his siren, which joined the others as they warbled out the notes of impending danger.

With the replacement oar slaves secured, Tassel hurried back to the warehouse.  She dodged Lord Tinsaur's armed soldiers who raced to their posts.  She ignored the slaves still milling about in confusion.  For Tassel, there was but one thought on her mind, Chaff.

Bursting into the building, Tassel shouted the hogget's name.  On the fourth try, she discerned her voice near the back of the vast room.  Dashing to the child, she fastened her paw about the girl's wrist and yanked her off her feet.  The broom went clattering to the floor, joining one of Chaff's sandals.  By the time they reached the door, Tassel slowed enough the dibbun could stand next to her.

"What's wrong Momma T?  Why are you so angry?  I was doing a good job."

"I'm not angry at you," Tassel growled.  She pulled Chaff into a sheltered doorway.  She didn't have time to comfort the crying hogget.  "That siren means we are under attack.  Best thing for us to do is find somewhere safe, far from the fighting.  We are grave danger, child.  Now keep quiet and follow me."

Outside, confusion changed to panic as every slave darted off searching for a safe haven.  Many raced back to the barracks they left earlier.  Others scurried down whichever road offered the clearest path.  Tassel joined one such group of slaves as they dodged the uniformed and armed servants of Lord Tinsaur charging in the same direction.

As they rounded a corner, five long-eared creatures atop the hill let loose a volley of arrows.  Many of the slaves froze in place.  Lord Tinsaur's soldiers closed on these invaders.  Now the air filled with projectiles as both sides opened fire.  One arrow overshot its mark and landed before the slaves.  Panicked, everybody scattered.  That arrow frightened Tassel and she ran towards an alley.

During the pell-mell rush to evade the battle, Tassel and Chaff became separated.  When Tassel reached the relative safety of a building's lee side, she frantically searched for the child.  Not finding her trailing the retreating slaves, Tassel turned back to the street.

Horror.  The young hogget stood a few paces from her place of refuge.  Chaff staggered another step before she lurched backwards.  Unable to do anything but watch, Tassel's eyes filled with the vision of her daughter with an arrow deep in her chest.  Where Chaff fell, the cobblestones turned red.

Roaring out the child's name, Tassel braved the deadly rain of shafts and scooped Chaff into her arms.  Cradling the girl's warm body, she ignored the blood staining her fur and screamed the child's name a second time.  When Chaff did not respond, Tassel laid her down in the shade and roared out her anguish.

Tassel darted out from cover and ran towards a shack she knew all too well.  Lowering her shoulder, she ran into the door, splintering its frame.  One quick look around and she found what she wanted.  Taking the familiar scythe into her paws, she flicked the honed blade into position.  The familiar tool morphed into a deadly weapon.

She made her way towards the growing number of long-eared archers.  When she got as close as she could, she paused.  As they loosened another volley, she charged.  Halfway there, one of the archers faced her.  A second later, several more turned in her direction.  Still another second passed before one invader readied an arrow.  She would make them rue their hesitation.

Tassel wielded the scythe, keeping its blade pointed upward.  In one mighty swipe, she caught the closest three archers.  The keen blade disemboweled them all.  With her unbridled fury adding strength to her swing, the backstroke took out another two beasts. 

Packed in such close proximity, the archers lost their advantage.  Those still unharmed discarded their bows and went for their sheathed weapons.  The screams of the dying as they tried stemming the flow of gore and the enraged bellow Tassel screamed added to the melee's confusion.

The scythe turned into a quarterstaff as Tassel bowled into the remaining archers.  Before the survivors could organize a defense, she lashed out with paw, foot and staff.  The last long-eared creature standing drew his sword, parried the scythe's blade and sliced through the shaft in a single motion.  Before his backstroke could take her out, Tassel drove the splintered wooden shaft deep into the archer's chest.

Tassel stood atop the hill among the dead and dying.  Panting from her exertion, she left the now broken scythe fall from her grasp.  A glance back towards the port showed another group of the long-eared invaders.  Tassel resolutely set off down the hill on an intercept course.  Her life ended with the death of her child, all that mattered to her was vengeance.

Rounding the corner of an intervening building, she came face to face with one of the long-eared creatures.  This fellow tried calming her.  It didn't work.  Seizing him by his strange uniform, Tassel threw the soldier straight up with all her might.  The building's wooden awning stopped his upward progress and the fellow collapsed at her feet, his skull cracked like a walnut.  Tassel grabbed the soldier's broadsword and raced towards the sound of battle.

As she reached the port, a group of Lord Tinsaur's soldiers fought a menagerie of creatures.  The invaders were forcing the soldiers further down the pier towards the water's edge.  While they fought, a contingent of raiders charged onto the warship via the aft gangplank.  Both sides screamed out war cries as blade met blade.

Pausing, Tassel watched as the soldiers tried rallying against the invaders.  Then she found two of the long-eared creatures fighting side by side against the taskmasters she served.  Once more the image of her daughter's lifeless body came unbidden and Tassel screamed out the hogget's name. 

She charged at full speed, holding the broadsword in both paws.  Such was her concentration she took no notice of anything but Chaff's killers.  Keeping the weapon straight out and level with the ground, she lined up the two long-eared fiends.  The blade skewered the first and Tassel's momentum carried it into the back of the next one.  As the two lifeless bodies fell, the blade dropped from her blood-slicked paws.

Tassel turned, determined to kill more of these unknown beast that murdered Chaff.  There, on the ship, another of the long-eared beasts.  Without breaking stride, and pushing any intervening body aside, Tassel charged up the aft gangplank roaring her daughter's name.

[cairn destop]

Captured

Dropping into a four-paw stance, Tassel gained the extra advantage of speed.  She propelled herself towards the deck of the warship.  As she cleared the top of the ramp, Tassel again roared her daughter's name.

There were a number of beasts on the ship fighting.  The ones not in Lord Tinsaur's uniform had their backs to the gangplank and remained unaware of Tassel's approach.  At least until her battle cry sounded.  Before anyone could react, she exploded into the melee.  With tooth and claw she attacked any creature standing before her, regardless of their uniform.  For the first time, Tassel experienced the bloodwrath of her species.  She continued fighting anything before her until several beasts tackled Tassel and she went down, still screaming her defiance.

"Put them all under restraints.  We'll deal with them once we clear the port."

Standing against the railing was a tall male weasel, his broadsword stained with the gore of his opponents.  As the sailors chained the defeated warriors, the weasel shifted his focus.  Now he watched the battle down on the dock until a fox boarded his ship.  Yelling at the top of his voice, the weasel issued his orders.  Those on deck ran about in a frenzied manner quick to carry them out.  The ship gathered momentum as it departed the harbor.

Once past the pier, the stoat at the wheel steered for open waters.  As the ship left the invaders on the dock, an unknown crew beast shouted out a warning.  Just passing the western edge of the island another warship approached.  It did not carry the markings of Lord Tinsaur's fleet, and it was on an intercept course.  Before the weasel could issue any command, an otter rushed forward.

"Turn command of this ship over to me if you want to get out of here.  I'm the harbor pilot and I can do that better than you, Captain."

The fox intervened.  "Best do as he suggests, Captain.  In open waters, our enemy will have the advantage.  If the pilot can defeat them in the harbor, we can make good our escape."

With a simple nod, the weasel stepped aside.  "I release the ship to your command."

The otter took his place next to the sailor manning the wheel.  "Hard to port, come east and make for the first channel, the one between the main island and the smaller island, ahead slow."

The weasel gripped the railing, his calm voice strained.  "You do know my ship will not clear the bridge at the far end of the first channel?  If memory serves me correctly, low tide will not happen for another hour."

"But the warship's Captain doesn't know that."  The otter kept checking on his adversary's progress.  "Good, our enemy has increased speed.  All oars, increase speed to half.  Strike the sail; we don't want him to catch us too soon.  Let's give him the target he wants; show him our broadside."

Near the first channel, the otter turned the ship onto a southerly course, increasing their speed, but not to full.  The pilot could not hide his pleasure as the other warship altered course and raised its sail.  Everyone heard the other vessel's sail popping as they caught the stiff wind.  The foaming bow wave marked where the enemy warship's ram would be.  It closed at full speed and would soon approach longbow range.

"If we don't do something, that ship's going to ram us."  Both the weasel Captain and the fox shouted the same words in near unison.

The otter pilot ignored them.  He waited until the enemy warship halved the distance.  "Hard to port; helmsman, make for the second channel, the one between the first and second island.  Maintain speed, but ready the sail for hoisting."

The tortured sound of wood splintering echoed over the water.  Aft of them, the pursuing warship tilted forty-five degrees to starboard, its ram jutting above the water.  The mast had snapped in two leaving the sail draped across the bow, hindering anyone with a longbow.  In the water, crewmembers who were pitched overboard by the sudden collision, tried outracing the converging sharks.

With their ship entering the channel, the otter continued issuing directions until he ordered the sail raised.  "Captain, the bridge is yours.  I relinquish command of this ship.  We're now in open waters."

It was the fox who asked the obvious question.  The otter pilot gave the two a knowing look.  "There's a long spur of rocks running in a roughly north to south line.  At high tide, any vessel can cross safely, but as the tide recedes, the spur earns its nickname of Keelcracker.  I kept those rocks between us and the warship.  The outgoing tide and the Captain's lust for battle did the rest."

With the danger from the enemy warship averted, the fox slid down the four steps separating the bridge from the main deck.  He faced the fighters his crew had manacled.  As he inspected the defeated warriors, he moved before Tassel.

"I remember you.  You're the one who gave us a chance at escape."  Barking out his orders, the crew freed Tassel and pushed her before him.  "Have you a name, slave?"

"My name is Tassel, Lord Tinsaur.  I live to serve you."  She kept her muzzle down as she stood before the fox she knew commanded all who lived on the islands receding behind them.

"For saving my life, and that of this crew, I grant you your freedom.  As of this moment, you're a minnow.  Captain, you saw how sharp this minnow's teeth can be, so train her well."

"Will that be my new name, Lord Tinsaur, Minnow?"

Every crewmember broke out laughing at Tassel's remark.  Those further away joined in once their friends relayed the conversation.  The weasel Captain addressed her from the wheel deck. 

"A minnow is what we call anyone new to the sea.  Once you prove yourself, you'll become a sailor.  With hard work, you might even become an officer in Lord Tinsaur's fleet.  Until then, you will obey my orders or those of my officers.  On this ship, I command, not even our Lord may issue orders without my permission."

The Captain now turned his attention to the other captives standing with their wrists bound in chains.  "We have a more pressing issue, what to do with these prisoners.  Tell me, will any of you row my ship?"

One long-eared male at the far end shouted out a defiant no, which the others echoed.  Before the Captain could say anything, Tassel spoke.  "Captain, as my first duty aboard your ship, let me convince our enemy the folly of defying you."

The Captain nod his head.  Tassel marched before the line of creatures.  She ignored those captives from species she recognized and stood before one of the female long-eared beasts that killed her daughter.  "What manner of creature are you?"

"I'm a hare and a better beast than you if you serve these slavers."

Tassel ignored the gob of spittle the female launched in her face.  The image of Chaff's body cancelled whatever mercy she possessed.  Giving no warning of her intentions, she punched the hare in her stomach, doubling her over.  She then grabbed the hare by her cotton-balled tail and furry neck, lifted her high, and slammed her onto the deck.  Holding onto the chain between her wrists, she flung the doe over the side. 

With a deft move, Tassel looped the links onto a deck cleat, leaving the hare scrambling unsuccessfully for a foothold.  She strolled over to a sailor who still held a battleaxe and grabbed it.  She thought of each arm as a piece of kindling as she hefted the axe and brought it down with all her might.  The hare's scream delighted her.  The axe cleaved the other arm, which allowed the unknown doe's body to fall into the sea.

Taking the chain off the cleat, Tassel tossed the cuffs with the severed paws before the others.  She handed the axe to another sailor, bidding him to hold it for her.  After inspecting the remaining prisoners, she stopped before a male hare.  Again Tassel asked if he would serve the ship and his refusal resulted in a brutal beating before he too went partway over the side.  The hare saw her lift the axe; he screamed as his body dropped into the sea behind the ship.

For the third time, Tassel inspected the line of prisoners, stopping before a tall, male squirrel with black fur.  "Perhaps you'll be more reasonable than these hares.  Would you prefer having your paws row this ship or would you rather swim without them?"

The heavy silence grew.  Then she unleashed her fury and the black squirrel soon found himself over the side.  When he saw her grab the axe, he begged for mercy, pleading for a chance to row.  His pleas did not stop the blade severing first one and then the other arm.  Again Tassel tossed the cuffs containing the severed paws at the remaining prisoners.

"When you are asked a question, I expect an immediate answer.  That one hesitated.  It cost him his life."  Tassel stopped before yet another doe hare quivering in fear.  Before she could voice more than the first word of her question, the doe shouted.

"I'll row."  When the hare officer ordered her to stand firm, she screamed back at him.  "Better a chance at life than becoming shark bait."

The surrender of the first hare had the other prisoners joining her.  Even the two remaining hares accepted duty on an oar over death.  One by one the prisoners went below deck.  She left the hare officer for last.

"Go ahead and chop my paws off, I'll not serve you."

Tassel laughed at the hare before addressing the weasel who watched everything that happened without a comment.  "Captain, put this hare on the oar pulled by the female hare.  Punish her if he doesn't obey.  Each time it's his shift on the oars, team him with another prisoner, and let that rower know he will suffer if this one remains defiant."

Two crewmembers grabbed the hare officer, but Tassel stopped them.  "You will learn obedience or your fellow slaves will teach it to you.  Continue your obstinate behavior and you'll beg for the feel of the whip."

A voice called out.  "Three coppers has him rowing like the others before the end of his third shift." 

Another replied.  "Two silvers has him dead within three days." 

In seconds the crew established a betting pool as to how long the hare officer would last.  Ignoring the lighthearted banter of the crew, Tassel addressed her Captain.  "What are your orders, sir?"

"Throw those severed paws overboard, but keep the chains.  We can use those.  Grab a pail and scrub brush, clean my decks of blood."

Over the next seven days, Tassel worked with the crew.  Some expressed hard feelings as she had injured many of them during the initial battle, but they relented over time.  Others sought her out and made her welcomed.  One even offered to share his winnings when the hare officer died mysteriously on his fifth night.

The cry of land 'ho had every crewmember staring off the bow.  Like the rest of the crew, Tassel leaned over the side and watched as a dark smudge on the horizon drew nearer.  She rejoined her fellow sailors scrubbing the deck, but kept her ears open as the Captain and Lord Tinsaur discussed their plans.

"We can provision the ship here and then set course for our fortress stronghold.  Once we have recovered our strength, we can reclaim our home," said Lord Tinsaur.

The Captain stared at the collection of huts set off a road leading from the one pier.  "Strange, nobody has come down to meet us.  Some guard must be assigned lookout duty."

"This is harvest time, Captain.  No doubt everyone is in the mountains working.  I'll take an armed party inland to the orchards and we'll withdraw our soldiers.  We can leave the slaves here since the island is so isolated.  After the woodlanders are driven from our home, we just reclaim what is ours."

As Lord Tinsaur made his way to the longboat davits, the Captain selected the landing party.  Tassel joined the others at the armory.  She selected a pike and a short sword before boarding one of the boats.  All paws rowed towards the sandy beach, grunting in unison.

The crew followed Lord Tinsaur ashore.  They strolled down the path running through the center of the slave village.  Nothing disturbed the quiet.  Like the other sailors, Tassel's eyes swept the area looking for any signs of the inhabitants.  None expected trouble, but Tassel voiced her concerns to the nearest officer.

"This is obviously the slave's living quarters.  There should be at least one slave here, either a dibbun or a sick elder.  Something's not right."

Before anyone could contradict her, the doors burst open revealing the well planned ambush.  A squad of uniformed hares left a nearby building and charged into them, killing one and scattering the other sailors.  Their enemy pressed them from three sides, driving them towards the sea. 

One of the ship's officers ordered a retreat.  Sailors fell back.  Tassel continued her advance as she attacked the hares gathered before her.  She felt her anger rise and a madness settled over her.  Once more the need for vengeance overrode her senses.

She took a step beyond the building she used to guard her back.  Tassel sensed movement.  As she turned, a female otter launch herself from the roof.  Dodging to the side, Tassel kept her spear pointed up and the otter skewered herself on the shaft.  Yet she did not die without inflicting punishment.  A war gauntlet smashed into her face, racking her muzzle's right side.  Tassel never recovered from the attack.  A blow from the rear to her head had her stagger a step.  Darkness descended.

Her agony brought her back to the present.  She couldn't see out of her right eye as blood caked her lids, keeping it closed.  Rubbing her paw over the eye cleared her vision, but renewed the pain.  Tassel tried breathing through her nose and tasted blood.  Then she spied several hares standing over her.

"What a bloody fiasco.  Instead of capturing Lord Tinsaur, he dies in battle.  Even their warship outran our vessels."

"Yeah, and headquarters wanted a high ranking pirate officer for court martial.  Nobody will be interested in simple sailors.  All HQ will do is send them to prison."

The third hare snapped his fingers.  "I got it.  We make the mouse there a corporal and the weasel a lieutenant.  It makes them officers, but so low ranking nobody from Intelligence will question them.  And their denials will just sound like they're trying to avoid execution."

"And what rank will you give the badger?" 

"You ever hear of a badger serving vermin slavers?  That should be special enough for whatever showcase trial HQ wants.  Don't think she'll need any rank."

The three hares assisted their prisoners to their paws and marched them to the water's edge.  Each prisoner was loaded into a different longboat under heavy guard.  The last thing Tassel remembered was the vessel's name, The Jade Coral.

[cairn destop]

Rendering a Verdict

Stiles nibbled on the shaft of his quill pen.  After more than four days working on Tassel's history regarding her capture, one question still nagged him.  The lady badger promised she would disclose everything she knew.  Some parts of her story didn't match the facts as he knew them.  Her version had him wondering about her sincerity.  He needed to reconcile the contradiction.

"I'm curious; the court records never mentioned any officers in the service of Lord Tinsaur.  You claimed the hares captured two, but those executed were all inhabitants of the Northern Alliance.  Whatever happened to them?"

"Though my fever grew stronger each day, I had my lucid moments.  During such times, my fellow captives and I discussed our expected fate.  None of us knew what form of execution these hares intended and fear fueled our imaginations.  Wanting no part of such a death, we came up with the perfect escape plan."

Stiles propped his head on his paws, eager to hear.  When Tassel offered nothing more, he understood her hesitation.  He scrambled for a clean piece of paper.  The poised pen in his paw awaited her explanation.

"We drew lots the day we reached Rimstone.  Short straw got to murder the other two and then commit suicide.  I drew the short one and strangled my two crewmates with a torn sleeve.  I might have succeeded hanging myself, but Fate had other ideas.  Just as I finished preparing the noose, several hares entered the hold with additional prisoners.  I figured dying in battle acceptable if I could kill a few more of those hated long-eared murderers.  My next clear memory was awakening in the prison cell."

The scribe leaned back and reached into the dwindling satchel of bound scrolls.  "Let's move on to the trial's conclusion."

* * *

For two weeks the three judges remained sequestered.  On occasions they would exit for food or summon some resident to their chamber.  Those who answered such a summons were questioned on a specific topic related to the trial and then sent away.  Local gossip could not determine if the three favored the prosecution or the defense.

During the time of deliberation, the Counsel of Elders ruled over Redwall Abbey.  No sooner had they assumed control than radical changes were made.  Despite the objections of Lady Pellanore, the hares shifted Tassel to a secured location.  In an empty room far from the residential wings, they chained the badger to a support column.  Restricted to a range that left half the room inaccessible, her one constant companion became a chamber pot.  The only break in her isolation occurred whenever a hare guard delivered her food.

Dinnertime came and Tassel awaited the arrival of her meal.  In the past, a hare would place the tray on the floor and push it to her.  Tonight, Henrietta brought her meal.  Corporal Sweetleaf stood in the door, reluctant to close it.

"I'm on duty for another hour.  You'll have to leave when I knock.  Tell whichever guard relieves me you just arrived with her meal.  He'll retrieve the empty tray when he goes off duty."

Henrietta handed the food to the badger before sitting against the now closed door.  She remained there looking down at her crossed feet and clasped her paws around her bent knees while Tassel ate her meal.  Sometimes her eyes would wander to the badger's face, but would shift back to her feet if their eyes locked.  She wanted to speak, but couldn't find an appropriate greeting, so she kept silent.

"I take it you have found me guilty too."  Tassel's gravelly voice surprised her as she hadn't spoken a word since the meal arrived.  "Not that I blame you, or the others."

"General Vindicarr and Badgermom Pellanore have been arguing their position whenever they meet.  He calls her too emotional and she calls him too rigid while they trade insults.  Several times they have come very close to brawling.  It's great entertainment when you're stuck inside because of the cold and snow."

"Glad my imminent fate amuses the folks here.  Maybe when they execute me you can have a big festival, give out gifts.  I'm sure me dangling at the end of a rope will be the highlight of the event."  There was no mistaking the sarcastic note in Tassel's voice.  "Wonder what you give a dibbun attending their first execution?"

Another sound intruded.  Judging by the rapid cadence of the knocking, something was happening outside.  Henrietta jumped to her feet and reached for the door.  Her paw never touched the door's latch.  It opened so fast that it almost struck her as she dodged to the side.  The hares never acknowledged her presence.  They moved about the room, preparing Tassel for movement.

The guards whisked the badger from the room.  Without hesitation, Henrietta joined the hares, matching their brisk pace as they moved through the corridors toward the nearest exit.  Though the snows outside were deep and the air bitter cold, the hares rushed across the open courtyard with their prisoner in tow rather than follow the warmer and more serpentine passageways through the inner wall. 

They passed through the entry foyer and into the Tapestry Hallway.  There they led Tassel to the defendant's box and fastened her chains as they did during the trial.  Captain Greypaw supervised their work and once satisfied, exited through the doorway reserved for the judges.  The remaining hares, including Corporal Sweetleaf, took their accustomed places three paces behind the prisoner.

By ones and twos the elders of Redwall Abbey assembled in the room.  The snow that had clung to the badger's fur while outside had not yet dried and already the crowd was abuzz with anticipation.  As one of the first arrivals, Henrietta staked out a front bench seat for an unobstructed view of Tassel and the judge's table.  While she waited, she checked out the growing multitude, noting the appearance of the two teen hedgehogs and Robertasin further back.  Along the upper balcony's rear section, the younger dibbuns gathered, their faces pressed between the railing's posts as they jostled for a better view.

It seemed as if every resident and visitor to Redwall Abbey gravitated en mass to the makeshift courtroom.  The crowd grew silent as former general Vindicarr and Lady Pellanore approached their respective tables.  Once they sat, everyone waited for the three judges.

Just as the assembled spectators became fidgety, the doorway opened.  Now attired in his finest uniform, Captain Greypaw once more signaled the beginning of the court session.  A great hush fell across the room as the hare gave his invocation.  When he finished, the door opened a second time and the three judges took their places.

While the squirrel and otter sat, the Father Abbot remained standing.  The elder pushed back his habit's hood.  "It has taken us much time and deliberation coming to a consensus.  Now it is time to render our verdict.  Let me say no leader, be they an officer of the army or a ruler of a community, should ever be compelled to explain their reasons for what they do, but we are not leaders, we are judges.  Such explanations are not only proper, but required if justice is to be served."

Once the shrew sat, Lady Sudditta rose.  "Our first issue was determining the prisoner's maturity.  Based on her own comments, and as confirmed by the healer, she is physically an elder.  However, if this was the sole standard, your Badgermom would have but one silly little hogget to watch." 

Laughter rippled through the crowd until the squirrel held up her paw.  "The defendant claimed to be a mother to a dibbun of four springs.  Such a task needs an elder, or somebody with the wisdom to act as such.  It is therefore our judgment the badger be considered an elder."

The squirrel returned to her seat and the otter stood.  "Maturity means the beast must have the responsibility to make choices, and accept the consequences.  The badger claimed 'it was my paw that warmed her bottom when she was naughty,' which infers the defendant knew right from wrong.  In spite of her emotional state at the time, she could distinguish killing another for vengeance as wrong, yet she did it.  As a slave, she could have chosen to await the outcome of the battle; instead, she sided with one faction."

Once again Lady Sudditta stood as Merkez resumed his place.  "A bigger question is this war.  The badger king calls it a fight against pirates, which would be defined as chasing criminals.  The defendant willingly joined these vermin, which makes her as guilty of any crimes they committed."

Again the female squirrel addressed the assembly.  "But the king has also called this enemy a pirate nation.  That confers the status of prisoner of war to any soldier captured.  Finding them guilty of a crime while they performed their duty is unacceptable, unless their actions are found to be egregious.  Killing an enemy is part of a soldier's duty, even if it is our soldier who dies."

Chief Merkez rose, his paws held high in an attempt to quell the angry crowd.  "That brought us to the next issue: was the badger a soldier fighting for the wrong side?  We think not.  A slave is similar to a simple peasant serving a distant ruler.  The peasant owes loyalty, but it is not their place to fight a war when it comes to their homeland.  A civilian who fights soldiers earns the disdain of any court.  Such beasts act outside the boundaries of an army and therefore have no protection from the laws shielding soldiers performing their assigned duties."

Father Draccon spoke from his seat.  "The defendant's actions during the battle where she was captured cannot be considered in this trial since she was in the uniform of a sailor.  However, she wore no such military uniform during her initial encounter.  Therefore, her actions then were those of a civilian, and no matter your view regarding this war, the badger performed in a criminal manner when she first fought for Lord Tinsaur."

Chief Merkez addressed the courtroom without rising from his seat.  "We conferred with Healer Fazbee, wondering if the defendant's actions the result of bloodwrath.  All badgers suffer this condition to some degree.  Our healer believes it possible, though he cannot make such a medical finding this long after the event."

"But we considered that an excuse, not a reason," Father Draccon said.  "If all badgers go into a murderous rage whenever angered, even the warrior hares would avoid such unstable beasts.  Anger must be controlled."

When the two male judges remained quiet, the squirrel spoke.  "A warrior badger fighting in a battle may find bloodwrath an asset, but rage is an emotional state.  By her own words, Tassel fought for vengeance, not loyalty to her master, or the protection of her fellow slaves.  She chose anger.  Since we consider her an elder, the accused must accept the penalty for her inappropriate actions."

After a slight pause, Father Draccon summarized the issue.  "Were we to excuse Tassel's actions due to bloodwrath, we grant all badgers a legal reason for avoiding the consequences of their actions.  This we cannot allow."

"Finding the defendant guilty was almost a foregone conclusion."  Lady Sudditta shifted her focus from the crowd to Tassel.  "I say almost because we can understand the power behind an emotion.  As a mother, I can understand the emotional anguish you suffered if such a child existed, regardless of its blood bond.  It does not relieve the pain when others call it accidental or collateral damage.  Anger remains.  However, laws must guide us when we are blinded by such inner turmoil, and this badger acted in spite of what she must have known was wrong."

At this point Lady Pellanore sprang from her seat, her fists striking the table and halting the oration.  Moving before her table, she growled.  "You cannot charge her with crimes committed by her superiors prior to boarding the warship.  And by all accounts, less than ten days passed before her capture.  How can you charge her with being an accomplice to criminal acts?"

"Oh do sit down and give it a rest."  General Vindicarr leaned back in his seat and stared up at the ceiling.  "Your bombastic defense of this vermin badger grows tiring.  We are here so justice may be served, not to listen to another maudlin emotional plea."

The staccato rapping of the hammer Father Draccon used as a gavel interrupted their verbal duel.  "Though we have been sequestered, we are not blind to your continual bickering.  Both you and Vindicarr have been sniping at each other since this hearing opened, and if my sources tell me right, it has come to near blows between you on several occasions.  I'll not allow it in this court.  Both of you, resume your places."

With order restored, the Father Abbot spoke.  "In the defendant's homeland, there were slaves kidnapped from foreign lands and forced into Lord Tinsaur's service.  Something any inhabitant would know.  Now recall the incident in the kitchen involving two young moles and the defendant.  If the theft of a pie deserves the loss of a paw or the life of a dibbun, did she think such crimes as kidnapping elders from their homes and forcing them into a life of slavery warranted any lesser penalty?  She knew how those slaves came to be there and by joining Lord Tinsaur, accepted the responsibility for those crimes."

The Father Abbot nudged the otter.  Merkez glared at the prosecutor.  "As we were saying before the interruption, what has concerned this panel is the extent of any punishment.  Lady Pellanore is right when she said justice must be tempered with good judgment.  General Vindicarr, your explanation of our options under the law is far too harsh.  We either condemn the accused to a swift death, or a lifetime imprisoned in some desolate place.  Based on the personal experiences you and Captain Greypaw related, a penal colony would be tantamount to a living hell.  We find both options unpalatable."

Looking out at the assembled crowd, the Father Abbot continued where the otter stopped.  "Yet we cannot dismiss or ignore these charges.  Justice must be served and the punishment must match the crime."  Raising his muzzle, the shrew locked eyes with the defendant.  "It is the unanimous ruling of this panel that you are guilty of aiding slavers, the murder of honorable beasts in the service of their king, and for perpetuating the crime of slavery upon others, including the child you claimed as yours."

Chief Merkez spoke, his voice subdued.  "We spent much of our time deliberating your sentence.  The Law allows no leniency, yet your crimes were an emotional response to an unfortunate happenstance.  Something we can all understand."

Lady Sudditta stared at the tabletop, her eyes never rising.  "Our decision regarding your punishment is a fair compromise.  To have shown any further mercy would be synonymous with our tacit approval of your actions.  Something we cannot do if justice is to prevail."

Silence followed.  Father Draccon hesitated.  Motioning his fellow judges together, he held a hasty conference.  The shrew stood.

"It is the judgment of this court you stand within the triangle two times.  Your punishment shall be to receive three lashes for every year of your life followed by thirty days of isolation in a secured place.  Should you survive this portion of your sentence, you shall then serve a time equal to your age in involuntary servitude to this Abbey and under my sole discretion, or that of my successors, regarding further disciplinary actions.  I assure you, any misdeed during this time shall be severely punished.  Upon completion of your sentence, you will be given one week to move beyond one day's march from this Abbey.  A distance we shall better define at the time of your release.  If ever you are found within this distance, you forfeit your life."

With that, the Father Abbot banged the table with his gavel one final time and the three judges withdrew.  Vindicarr jumped to his feet once the door closed, his joy evident.  Lady Pellanore buried her face within her crossed arms as she slumped over the defense counselor's table.  Henrietta remained mute like the other residents filing out of the room.

[cairn destop]

Carrying Out the Sentence

Two weeks passed.  When Captain Greypaw and Corporal Sweetleaf entered the room used as Tassel's cell, their faces remained devoid of any expression.  Instead of carrying a tray of food, they carried chains and a bag of implements. 

"So today is the day," Tassel asked.

No other words passed between the three as Tassel stretched out on her belly.  From the bag she dropped earlier, Sweetleaf removed a leather strap and a short blade.  While the Captain watched, the doe did her duty.  The only sounds within the room were the sharpening of the blade on leather, or the sound of the edge removing the furry stubble.

Dropping to his haunches, Captain Greypaw stared into her eyes.  Neither spoke while the doe continued shaving the fur off Tassel's back.  Giving no preamble, the Captain blurted out a question that took her by surprise. 

"Tell me, badger, do the dead ever haunt your peace of mind?"

"No, Captain, they remain dead.  I'm surprised you would ask such a question.  As an officer in the army, you must have killed many over your career."

"Yet my mind is disturbed and my sleep is often filled with the horror of personal combat."

Tassel inspected the haggard face of the hare.  "Yes, I see you're troubled and I'm guessing last night proved rougher than usual.  So you come to me, a vermin convicted of killing so many and wonder how I can sleep untroubled by the memory of those I murdered?" 

Silence filled the room.  Tassel could not move because of her restraints, but the hare remained where he sat as if he too wore chains.  Tassel mulled over the hare's inquiry.

"Let me answer your question this way.  How does Vindicarr feel about his assignment?  Does he look forward to flogging me?"

Captain Greypaw could not hide the contempt in his voice.  "I loathe speaking of a former officer in this manner, but he revels in it.  He worked two days building a mound at just the right spot so he can add more power and momentum in his motion.  I do believe he is drooling over his duty of wielding the whip.  He speaks as if beating you will somehow avenge those you killed.  He calls it justice, but I see it as vengeance; nothing he does will bring the dead back to life."

Turning her head, Tassel glanced at the doe just finishing her assignment.  "Tell me Corporal, if something happened to the hare, or the Father Abbot changed his mind and my flogging became your responsibility, how would you react?"

She replied without hesitation.  "I'd hate it.  I would do it because duty required it, but I would be happier if another did it.  I just find it repugnant beating you when you don't fully comprehend what you did as wrong.  However, I'll do what must be done."

"There's your answer, Captain.  Both of them will sleep untroubled by their actions since they have resolved their feelings.  You're stuck between these two extremes."  When the silence became too much, Tassel locked eyes with the hare.  "Do you seek my advice?"

Captain Greypaw nodded.  When Tassel considered how much the Captain distanced himself emotionally from her, she knew it took great courage approaching her.  The hare might not be a friend, but he did act with honor.  Perhaps she could help.

"Very well, Captain, here it is.  Take a tankard of October Ale and find a quiet spot.  Relive your battles, recall every detail.  If you are happy about your conquests, toast your many victories.   If you regret killing a kindred spirit whose one mistake was being on the wrong side, raise your glass in honor of your gallant enemies.  If you are honest with yourself, their faces will never bother you again."

Corporal Sweetleaf stood and stretched.  Her words brought both of them back to the present.  "The prisoner is ready."

The Captain removed several thin leather thongs from his pocket.  "Your muzzle will be bound shut so your cries will not disturb the tranquility of this Abbey.  It will also prevent you from biting off the tip of your tongue.  In a penal colony, it is a common result of such a harsh whipping.  Consider it repayment for answering my question."

As the Captain reached for her muzzle, Tassel twisted her head away from his paw.  "I ask one favor.  Let me go there without any restraints.  I give you my word; there will be no trouble.  Allow me this one measure of dignity."

The hare hesitated before he grabbed her muzzle.  Tassel made no further struggles as the Captain tied her muzzle closed.  The doe tapped her commander on the shoulder just as he finished with the bindings. 

"It sure would be a bed of thistles to Vindicarr if she came willingly, sir."

* * *

While Tassel read the account of her flogging, her posture remained rigid.  With each additional page she read, her paws trembled.  As she reached the last one, her shaking turned uncontrollable.  Pages Stiles arranged in proper order scattered like leaves before a high wind.  The squirrel scribe jumped off his stool and sorted through them.  As he rearranged the material in its proper order, he glanced over at his guest, who now rested her head between her paws, moaning.

"That was most insensitive of me, dear lady.  No doubt those documents have resurrected memories best left buried.  I cannot imagine the pain you suffered."

"No," growled Tassel, "you couldn't possibly know unless you felt the whip as I did.  The flogging induced the bloodwrath all badgers suffer, which explains your description of a titanic struggle while bound to the triangle.  When the bloodwrath ended, I fainted from exhaustion.  A bucket of cold brine revived me.  Then I experienced pain like none I had ever known."

Tassel shuddered.  "Near the end of my sentence, I passed out a second time.  Again a bucket of brine brought me to my senses.  That salt bath added a fiery sensation, which seeped into each welting cut.  It added still another form of torture to my flogging.  By the time the last lash fell, I had reached the limits of my endurance."

The squirrel padded over to Tassel and sat beside her.  He said nothing and did no more than rest his paw on her thigh.  Another shudder ran through her body as she leaned back against the cushion.  Tassel remained still for several moments.

"Perhaps we should end this session now.  If you like, I could remove this from my records."

"We shall continue.  Your account is most accurate and descriptive when it comes to my flogging.  In fact, it is a bit too detailed.  Yet your account ignores my solitary confinement.  Redwall may not have a dungeon, but it has four cellars used to age October Ale.  Three are always full while the fourth awaits the next year's vintage.  The empty one became an oubliette, a kind of dungeon accessible via the ceiling.  Let me tell you what happened after they cut me down and where your account continues."

* * *

The drummer ceased.  Exhausted by her struggles, Tassel slumped down as far as her restraints allowed.  Salt from the brine wash stung her eyes and left her with a translucent vision.

A measure of relief came when Tassel felt one chain slacken and her arm dropped to her side.  Two hares maneuvered her arm over their shoulders and they took a firm grip.  The process repeated itself when the second chain played out of the ring atop the other post.  If it were not for the four hares supporting her weight, she would have collapsed.

The four soldiers dragged Tassel as they followed behind Captain Greypaw, Corporal Sweetleaf and Vindicarr.  Vindicarr coiled the whip about his left arm while leading the others toward a low building just past the orchard.  As the hares dragged Tassel, they crossed wide patches of snow, which soon became marred by crimson splashes. 

A door opened and the cloudless brilliance of the late winter day gave way to the shadows inside.  Flint and steel came together, producing a glowing sun that dispelled the shade within the building.  Vindicarr handed the lantern to the Corporal and once more the hares proceeded forward while dragging her across the wooden floor.

Moving through one door, the party descended several flights of wooden stairs until they came to a massive door.  Past this barrier the party weaved its way around numerous crates stacked alongside painted lines.  Once the group reached a section Tassel found no different from any other within the underground warehouse, they lowered her to the hardwood planks. 

One hare strung a rope through the eyebolts in her wrist shackles and soon her arms were pulled high enough Tassel wanted to lean up, but had not the energy to do so.  A door within the floor lifted, revealing a black pit.  No sooner did she perceive this opening than Vindicarr's foot delivered a hard kick to her hip, tumbling her over the side.

Once again her arms supported her weight and the pain from the sharp ridges within the cuffs competed with the collision her back made when it contacted the far side.  As she swung back to the brown hare, he withdraw a blade.  Holding Tassel by her ear, he severed the thongs binding her mouth.  Vindicarr pointed down and she dropped into the blackness. 

She collapsed on the floor, but suffered no additional injuries as those holding the rope controlled her fall.  A few seconds later the rope whipped through the eyebolts in her cuffs, disappearing in the light from above her.  As Tassel looked up, she could see Vindicarr silhouetted by the lamp.  Then the ceiling trapdoor crashed down and sealed her in a room blacker than any night.

Must not cry out.  Must not cry out.  She repeated this mantra, determined not to give the brown hare any indication of her pain.

Tassel held her muzzle shut.  She listened as the hares above her slid the bolts home.  Tassel continued her vigil until the muffled slamming of a heavy door.  Another few breaths passed and she released her grip.  Alone in the darkness, she shattered the oppressive silence with a tortured scream.

She recalled what Corporal Sweetleaf had relayed about her prison days earlier.  Not having the strength to stand, Tassel crawled across the worn stone floor until her questing paw came against a stone wall.  Hoping random chance would work in her favor, she moved along one wall, her outstretched paw questing for the corner.

Luck was with her.  Tassel's paw first contacted a cold metal container and another cool to her touch.  A wooden dipper hung inside the cold bucket.  She lifted one dipper full of the cold water and poured it over her back.  Wherever the cold liquid ran, she felt relief from the burning sensation the salt caused.

Tearing one leg off her britches, she tore it into two parts.  One she dampened in the bucket and cleansed her back.  Though the action made every cut and welt explode into new pain, she continued washing the salt from her back.  Panting from her exertion, she pushed the half filled water bucket into the corner and dragged what she knew was her slop bucket until she found another corner.

Memories of a time when she visited a deep mine on a far away island came back to Tassel.  Slaves laboring deep within the earth tied blindfolds over their eyes.  In such a lightless world, one risked blindness when they exited the mines.  Those slaves went without any light for three or four months, she could endure one.  She did not know if one month could jeopardize her sight, so she fashioned a blindfold from the second piece of torn fabric.

Following the perimeter of the cellar proved painful and arduous.  As she reached the final corner, her paws felt a wooden bucket filled with apples.  Next to this she found two heavy blankets and a sheet.  Until the thirty days passed, this would be her larder and her bed.  Tassel found the cold bearable thanks to the blankets and once wrapped within them, fell into a deep sleep.

[cairn destop]

Drawn From Darkness

Each time Tassel awoke, she explored her cell.  Without any visual reference, she did not know the dimensions of her prison.  Even the ceiling defied her attempts at touching it.  Tassel's imagination soon turned the cellar into an immense site whenever she remembered it held an entire year's vintage of October Ale.  Since she had no idea what lands the Abbey controlled, her mind increased the yield with each attempted calculation.

Prior to her incarceration, Captain Greypaw said her supplies would be replenished every five days.  This didn't help since she had no way of telling time.  Tassel ate and drank whenever she wanted.  When her supplies ran out, she wondered how soon the hares would return with additional food and water.  Fear had her thinking they abandoned her to this blackness.

It started with the sound of a heavy door moving.  Tassel removed her blindfold and placed it on her bedding.  Her paw latched onto the handle of the empty apple bucket she kept near her blankets.  She kept one paw along the wall as she searched for the dry water bucket.  Anticipation had her listening for the sliding sound made by the bolts sealing the trapdoor.

A shaft of light illuminated the ceiling like the breaking of dawn after a long night.  The forms of those who stood above her remained shadows before the sun.  Somebody lowered a rope to her.  Tassel's fingers trembled as she hooked the empty buckets and her eyes followed them upward.  Seconds later, a bucket containing apples descended and she removed it from the hook.  Her guards repeated the process and lowered a full bucket of water.  Once freed of its burden, the rope flew upward.  Each paw held the handle of a different bucket.  Just as she stepped away from the light, the darkness again embraced  her when the heavy wooden trapdoor dropped into place.  Throughout the process, the hares never uttered a word nor responded to her shouted greeting.

Alone again, Tassel sought ways of occupying herself.  She felt the cold stones, trying to discern patterns her fingers could use to identify where she stood in relation to the four corners.  Sometimes she attempted to venture across the open floor but without the comfort of the walls, she soon became disoriented.  Terror filled her mind as a wrong turn left her wandering in circles until she blundered into the stony wall.

While awake, her cell morphed into a frightening place.  Tassel wondered if this pit contained every evil demon her elders told her inhabited the night.  The oppressive dark magnified her isolation.  In her desire for companionship, Tassel wished Henrietta was here, almost.  Without somebody to answer her voice, the room resembled a cold crypt.

Sleep provided Tassel no solace.  Dreams that seemed like distant and wispy happenings whenever the sun rose took on too much substance within this rock bordered tomb.  Sometimes she recalled fond memories of her life.  Those were rare.  Terrors, both real and imagined, haunted her sleep.

One nightmare kept repeating, each time more frightening than the last.  Tassel envisioned herself standing atop the staircase leading down to the Tapestry Hallway dressed in the finest of silks.  A nearby mirror reflected her image wearing fancy earrings and a sparkling necklace like the great nobles she saw as a child.  A merry festival drew her closer.  When she reached the bottom of the stairway, General Vindicarr greeted her by bowing low before extending his paw as he escorted her to the party.

An instant later, the scene misted and when clarity returned, Tassel found herself secured to the triangle and Vindicarr's whip uncoiled.  As each lash landed, she screamed and the festival's merriment grew even louder.  Couples danced past her paw in paw with an expression reflective of the happy occasion as another wave of agony enveloped her.

Such a nightmare had her heart race.  Like a bursting water jug dropped from above, the horror of her dream vanished, yet the emotions it invoked remained.  The dream emphasized her recollection of the brown hare's delight when he administered the court's sentence.  Each time she pictured his maniacal expression, Tassel trembled.

"That hare makes even the cruelest of our taskmasters back home seem like a gentle lover." 

Tassel's voice echoed through the empty chamber.  Nobody responded.  She shuddered again as the memory returned and she tried vanquishing it by burrowing deeper into her bedding.  Knowing the hare and his whip awaited her or how every resident of the Abbey stood against her had Tassel wallowing in self-pity.

Time passed and Tassel acclimated to the chill of her prison.  Familiarity with the room allowed her to dart about the chamber as her fingers identified landmarks.  She even ventured away from the walls, confident she could eventually reorient herself.  Such excursions provided her the opportunity to flex her muscles and gave her something to do in the perpetual darkness.

Above her, the sound of a distant door moving on its hinges.  If her ears did not deceive her, the next sound would announce the arrival of her guards.  She had a good reason to wonder if her senses tricked her.

Both buckets are still half full.  Are those hares coming early?

Removing her blindfold, she stared at the ceiling.  The sound of the bolts sliding reverberated throughout the cellar.   Such a soft noise, and yet it reminded her of thunder.  She bounced from foot to foot wondering what brought her visitors.  A patch of light defined the opening and Tassel approached, shielding her eyes from the distant glare. 

The silent figure standing above her lowered a wicker basket tied to a rope.  Not sure how she should perceive this offering, Tassel approached with caution.  Just as she freed the basket, a sharp whistle drew her eyes to the lighted doorway.  Whoever stood by the opening tossed something down to her.  Before the door again sealed her in darkness, she recognized the object as the doll Shortspike received as a gift.

Gathering both items, Tassel rushed back to her corner.  Though the basket held her curiosity, the doll captured all of her attention.  It may have been nothing more than a collection of rags sewn together to resemble the hogget, but to her, it became a viable connection to the world beyond her dark cell.  She wanted a companion, now she had one.

"Well Miss Stickerback, it's so nice of you to visit me.  How did you ever get away from that silly hogget?"

Shortspike reminded her of the hogget she raised back home and how her life ended with an arrow in her chest.  Her daughter never held a doll; her only possession was a length of discarded yellow fabric she weaved in her head spikes.  It was dingy, it was frayed, but it became Chaff's prize possession.  One hogget had so much and the other had so little, yet both were precocious youngsters, full of life.  At least one was.  That thought brought her back to the reality of the present.  Tassel crushed the doll to her breast and sobbed for the child she lost.

Her tears spent, Tassel replaced the blindfold over her eyes.  Setting the doll aside, she opened the picnic basket.  The smell of fresh baked bread assaulted her nose.  Such a mouthwatering sensation had her wolfing most of it down before she regained her composure.

"What say we try saving the rest?"  Tassel giggled as she spoke to the doll she held in one paw while she placed the warm bread back in the box.  "Let's find out what else is in here."

One ceramic jar she touched burned her paws and she yelped at the unexpected pain.  She licked her fingertips trying to sooth the tingling sensation.  Tassel turned her head to where she dropped the doll. 

"You're right.  If the bread is warm, maybe something within this jar is hot. ... Open it carefully?  What do you think I was trying to do when I burned my fingers?  ...  Maybe it would be best if we wait for it to cool. ... Fine, I'll open it now."

It took effort working the lid off without spilling the contents.  Tassel dipped her finger into something hot and slimy.  She brought the lumpy mess to her lips and cautiously licked her fingers.  Her delighted voice filled the room.

"Why it's oatmeal; there's even a taste of honey mixed in it. ... My word Miss Stickerback, we do have the makings of a fine meal. ... Don't be so impatient; I'll open the other jar too."

The second jar felt cooler to her touch.  After Tassel removed the lid, her nose detected the unmistakable odor of vegetable stew.  Dipping her finger in the broth proved it was still warm, but unlike the oatmeal, did not retain its heat.  Holding the lid over the opening, Tassel tipped the jar and drank the warm broth.  With the liquid drained, she scooped out the contents, savoring each new taste sensation until her claws scraped the insides clean.

As much as she spoke of restraint, the contents of the basket soon disappeared.  Her questing fingers explored every corner of the container, but found nothing more.  With a full belly, Tassel jogged to the corner where she stored her supplies.  She finished off her banquet with an apple and dipper of water.

Once she returned to her bedding, Tassel's fingers probed for the doll.  Carrying it with her, she spoke to it of her home life.  She talked of Chaff and compared her to Shortspike.  This had Tassel laughing or crying as she recalled many incidents of her hedgehog daughter's life.

After she exhausted every memory, Tassel sat on her blanket.  The gravel in her voice filled the room with an evil echo, but it felt so good having a companion, even an imaginary one.  Her distorted voice no longer scared her.  She remained sitting in the corner, rocking the doll like the female otter did after nursing Chaff before she was weaned.  Just as the rocking would cause the infant to sleep, Tassel soon drifted off into the land of dreams, but this time no terrors invaded her rest.

Time continued.  Once again the sounds of the heavy door opening and the sliding of bolts awakened her.  Tassel pranced out to the middle of the floor.  Dropping the blindfold onto her bedding, she willed the opening to appear.  The light brought her such joy.

The rope lowered about a third of the way with a lantern, which illuminated much of the empty cellar.  For the first time, she saw the dimensions of her prison.  Then the unmistakable sound of wood sliding over wood.  The hares lowered a ladder.

Corporal Sweetleaf started the long descent to the stone floor.  This must be my final day here before I face the post again.  Fear gripped her and she hustled to her corner where she wedged herself.  Two more hares soon joined the doe officer as they approached her.  In the outline of the illuminated opening, another three hares observed her.

All right girl, you can either go down fighting and be dragged to the post begging for the mercy you know they'll not show or you can go with some measure of dignity.  Either way, you'll be feeling Vindicarr's whip before this day is over.

The soldiers drew nearer.  Summoning up whatever courage she had, Tassel pushed away from the stony corner and took a step forward.  Though fear made her stomach churn, she stood tall.  She marched up to Corporal Sweetleaf trying to project a confidence she didn't feel and with a voice that broke, offered to follow them up the ladder.

Instead of grabbing her, the soldiers stepped aside.  They flanked Tassel until she started up the ladder and followed close behind her.  Those upstairs assisted her without making any additional move at restraining her actions. 

The guards surrounded Tassel and they left the storage cellar.  A quick stop at an unoccupied washroom allowed Tassel a bath and change of clothing.  Satisfied with her appearance, Corporal Sweetleaf led the group through the maze of passageways inside the wall until they reached the Abbey proper.  Everyone proceeded to the second floor.

They turned down another passageway and approached Captain Greypaw.  Beyond him, a reddish-brown mouse reacted to the squad as it approached.  The mouse squeezed past the Captain and opened the closed door.  Corporal Sweetleaf moved before the officer and snapped off a sharp salute.

"Sorry for the delay, sir.  Tassel smelled quite ripe and needed a change of clothing.  I thought it best we make the prisoner as presentable as possible before her audience with the Father Abbot."

"Are all our travel preparations ready?"  When Corporal Sweetleaf nodded, the Captain instructed them to meet him at the main gate.  They withdrew, leaving her alone with Captain Greypaw.

"You seem confident I'll not be any trouble, Captain."

The hare ignored the implied question in her greeting.  "We have been recalled to Fiery Mountain and will be departing today, Tassel."

Her jaw dropped.  "That has to be the first time you ever used my name.  Considering everything you have said and done since we first met, I'm curious why you chose this time and place."

Just then the mouse exited the room and pointed at Tassel and then at the closed door.  As she started past Captain Greypaw, he stopped her with a paw placed gently on her shoulder.  Putting his muzzle so close to her ear that the long whiskers on his nose touched her, he murmured so low she almost missed his words.

"I took your advice, Tassel.  Thanks to you, my sleep remains peaceful.  The demons that haunted me are vanquished.  I'll always be grateful." 

With that, the hare quickstepped down the hallway.  In a matter of seconds he disappeared beyond the same corner the other hares had taken.  A less than gentle harrumph from the mouse reminded Tassel there was still the matter of the Father Abbot.