It was the autumn of the Warriors return. After days of feasting and celebrating the safe return of Redwall's warriors and young ones life at Redwall was slowly returning to the peace and quiet. Or at least it would return to peace and quiet, if it were not for one particular young otter. Cheek, was as usual living up to his name. Most of the young woodlanders; who had returned from the depths of Makariss' kingdom, had grown quite mature in the span of the season. Cheek, was as youthful and troublesome as ever.
Matthias the Warrior was enjoying lunch alongside Winifred the otter down in Cavern Hole. They watched on as the young creatures enrolled in Abbey school sat at the table across from them, taking their midday break from lessons. Most were young novices garbed in light green habits of the Redwall order. Mixed in were the young ones of local woodlanders, who lived close enough to travel to and from the Abbey each day. At the head of the long table sat Cheek, assembling a towering sandwich in front of the watchful eyes of Abbey Dibbuns.
"Hurr Cheek, oi dwont think ee can stack more yellow cheese on dat ur sandwhich." Bungo the molebabe said, as he watched the young otter pile thick slices of cheese overtop a slice of herb and nut bread.
"Just watch this I'll balance this old thing with some leafy lettuce." Taking a pawful of lettuce from his neighbour's salad, he set it atop his creation. "Now fer some tomatoes." Three slices of tomatoes were added hanging perilously atop the tower. "Another slice o'bread, lessee, some mustard n' pickles, more o' that nice yellow cheese, another slice o' bread, an' there we go. " Raising both paws in the air he encouraged the younger dibbuns to create a drum roll by banging on the table. Flexing his muscles Cheek scooped up the sandwich and managed to take three bites before it started to fall apart. Undefeated, he licked mustard from his paw amid the applause of his young admirers.
"Just look at the young scallywag. He's getting worse than Basil Stag Hare every day." Matthias laughed, taking a drink of his elderberry cordial.
"I tell ye mate that young otter sure lives up to his name, never in me life have I seen such a cheeky beast. That old hare Basil seems to be the only one who has any control over 'im. I 'eard Foremole went over to that little cottage he has to put on an expansion for the young'un." Winifred shook her head watching the young otter.
Matthias nodded. "Yes, Father Abbot invited the both of them to live at the Abbey, but Basil turned him down. He said something about not being quite old enough to shut up his den. Still, I'm sure the old fella enjoys having a young set of paws to help out. It's funny that he hasn't made mention of adopting young Cheek, he's practically a father to the youn'un."
Winifred finished her bowl of shrimp n'hotroot soup, smacking her lips with pleasure. "Basil asked me to put word out to Skipper, and the other otters in Mossflower. Said 'e doesn't want to officially do anything until 'e's sure that Cheek ain't 'ave anybeast looking for 'im. Didn't say anything at the time o'course, but Skipper knows most every otter, and I knows the rest. Between the two of us, we never seen the likes of Cheek afore."
"Don't look now, but here comes Sister May, and she doesn't appear to be too happy." Matthias nudged the otter looking on as the Abbey Sister rolled up her sleeves and grabbed the young otter by his ear.
"Now then, young otter, gentlebeasts do not cause such commotion during lunchtime. Look at you, stuffing your face to show off to the Dibbuns. The woodlands are full of starving creatures, and here you are wasting food, for shame Cheek!" Turning her attentions to the other Dibbuns she shooed them away." Off with you, back to chores and lessons. Cheek, I think it is high time Sister Pansy teach you a lesson in pot scrubbing. Come along now." She dragged the protesting young otter away by the ear.
…..
Once lessons were over for the day; Sam Squirrel, along with Elmtail, and the bankvole siblings Cynthia and Rollo, stood waiting by the main gate. Cheek, came bounding up waving his rudder to the four a foolish smile plastered on his face.
"Sorry fer keeping you waiting, but strike me rudder Pansy is a real task master. Oh she might look sweet 'n kind but I dare not cross 'er. She's likely to tan yer tail with 'er ladle just as soon as look at ye. You lot didn't 'ave to wait around fer me. I know the way home."
Sam flicked his bushy tail, his patience for his otter friend growing thin. "Come on then, let's get going. Mum said not to let you walk home alone any more, not after you got lost the last time."
"Didn't get lost, I was just taking the scenic route." Snorted Cheek, as he helped Sam with the heavy gate.
"Call it what you will mate, Mum still says not to let you out of my sight until you're safely home. Nobeast disobeys my mum." Sam, as the eldest took the lead. Cheek, and Elmtail, flanked either side of him. Trudging behind was Cynthia, holding paws with her young brother.
The five young ones followed the road south towards St. Ninian's church; the breeze was still warm although many of the trees now wore their autumn colours. Leaves of brown, gold, and red, littered the path, rustling whenever the wind picked up. Rollo, the youngest of the group squirmed away from his sister's paw to leap into the piles of fallen leaves.
"Whoosh! I am the king o'the forest." He giggled, rolling and tossing up pawfulls of foliage.
"Rollo, stop that this instant. What would auntie say if she saw you?" Cynthia scolded, placing one paw on her hip and shaking the other, as she saw her aunt do many times before.
"Kings O'forests don't have aunties!" Exclaimed the young bankvole, tossing leaves at his sister.
Grinding her teeth, Cynthia turned to the other three for help in dealing with her brother. Cheek was already running to play with Rollo.
"Roar! I be a big 'n scary forest monster, here to gobble up kings o'forests." Cheek, thumped his rudder like tail, and held his paws up over his head in a mock menacing manner.
Squeaking, Rollo scurried under a pile of leaves trying to hide from the otter. Exchanging winks the two squirrels ran up the nearby oak tree overhanging their friends. Balancing skillfully on the branches they jumped, causing more leaves to come tumbling down. An acorn came loose and landed right on Cheek's head. Rubbing the spot ruefully, he glared up at the two squirrels before dramatically swaying back and forth.
"Me skull is broke by the king's brave warriors. Oh woe is me an' lack a day." He twirled around three times, before falling into the leaves with all for paws held straight up in the air. His tongue lolled from his mouth, and eyes screwed shut. Young Rollo didn't know what to make of it. Lightly tapping the otter's shoulder, he glanced up at Sam and Elmtail who were climbing down from the oak.
"Did ye kill Cheek?" His voice was filled with worry.
Suddenly, and without warning the young otter sprang up to his paws, shaking leaves off of him and bowing to Rollo. "What's this, I'm no longer the terrible monster, nay I am me good self once more."
Laughing uproariously, the five young creatures turned from the path into the woodlands. Although they continued to joke and laugh, none of the young ones were quick to dash into any piles of leaves. This was the territory of a curious squirrel known as Bobberty; a mysterious old fellow who lived alone and rarely associated with anybeast. Bobberty was always known to be a little mad, but after the invasion of Cluny the Scourge the squirrel became wearier of strangers. He would set traps close to his home and considered both woodlander and vermin to be his enemy. Young woodlanders were always warned to be careful when in Bobberty's territory. Sam walked ahead of the others; he was the best at spotting any traps that might be had. Cheek kept up the rear taking young Rollo by the paw, lest the little creature stray.
Rollo stuck up a lively tune of his own creation.
"I'm the Forest King, so listen what I say
Ye best pay close attention or you will regret the day.
I'm master o' the rivers, an' master o'the trees
I owns all the flowers and the honey from the bees.
I have two knights, and me they will defend
So be weary any monster or from them ye'll meet yer end.
Ye best be heading on now fer it's getting awfully late,
Out o'sight or I'll chop ye up and I won't hesitate."
The young woodlanders laughed at the silly song, cheering Rollo on to make another verse. They were interrupted by the sound of another creature.
"Excuse me chaps, that is a rather clever little ditty if I do say so m'self. Don't suppose, any of you could get me out of this confounded thing?"
Glancing around, the woodlanders tried to find the source of the voice.
"Up here you lot." The voice came again. Glancing upwards they spied a young hare dangling by his lanky hind legs high in an elm tree. He waved to them in a friendly manner. "What ho, could you by chance help spring this bally trap I seem to have gotten meself caught in?"
Elmtail, and Sam, climbed up into the Elm tree. Sam took hold of the rope suspending the hare over the ground, while Elmtail, gnawed though the cord. Carefully, Sam lowered the hare into the paws of the awaiting otter. Cheek helped to set the hare upright, brushing off some of the fallen leaves that littered his traveling clothes. Bowing low, the hare freed his footpaws, and wiggled his ears at the other woodlanders.
"Much obliged young thingamys. The name's Tummscoff Stag Vittlesmythe, an' that's with a y and not an i dontcha know. "He announced, shaking off the remains of the rope.
Cheek, introduced each of the young woodlanders in turn, catching something odd about the young hare's name. "Did you say yer middle name is Stag?"
"Oh yes, old lad, borrowed the moniker from my Nunky Baz dontcha know, never met the chap but I hear he's as mad and perilous as they come. My Granddad and him were both part of Boarder scout an' fur an' wot ever patrol. Said ole Nunky Baz, was the best scoffer of the lot of 'em, and that's bally well saying a lot, because I've seen my Granddad scoff. "The young hair shook an elm leaf free from his ear. "Ole Mater and Pater said I ought to stay with Nunky Baz for a time, on account that us warrior types have to stick together wot. Said they couldn't teach me anymore about being a perilous hare, so I ought to see the absolute expert on such matter. So I agreed to pop along to this jolly looking part o'Mossflower and start me warrior training. I'm bound to learn bucket loads from that old campaigner wot."
The young hare's roguish smile, led Sam to believe Tummscoff wasn't telling the whole truth. "You're lucky you found us mate. Cheek can take you to Basil Stag Hare, and we can help you avoid any more of old Bobberty's traps."
Tummscoff, retrieved his haversack from where it had fallen under some bramble bushes. Carefully picking away at the brambles he adjusted the straps over his shoulders and threw a comical salute in the otter's direction. " Righto, lead the way old chap. Quick as y'like, give it the old left right left wot wot. I say, do you really know where Nunky Baz lives?"
Cheek clapped a hearty paw on Tummscoff's back, having taken an instant liking to the hare. "'course I know where ole Barrel Stick Chair lives. I live there as well y'see. Let's me stay wit 'im, on account of saving his life so many times."
The other young woodlanders chuckled softly at the fibs Cheek was feeding the newcomer.
"You saved his life, oh do tell. I absolutely love tales of battles 'n wot not." Tummscoff's ears wiggled excitedly, as he kept up with the pace set by Cheek. A small paw path came into view, heralding their exit from the territory of the squirrel hermit. Waving good bye to his friends Cheek directed Tummscoff down the path that would bring them to Basil's small abode.
"Well, it all began last season when Redwall asked me to rescue their young 'un's from this fox…"
…
Basil Stag Hare, the retired scout and footfighter reclined in his worn armchair by the fire. On the small side table lay a large china plate, inlayed with a delicate print of columbine flowers and honey suckles. A few crumbs remains, the only reminders of the mid-afternoon snack Basil had enjoyed before nodding off. The large portion of rich damson and plum cake, section of white autumn cheese and glass of elderberry port wine was enough to make any hare drowsy. His sleep wasn't to last much longer, as the two younger creatures making their way into the little cottage den.
"Basil, I'm back from the abbey." Announced Cheek ,stomping in though the door and spying the older hare sleeping in his chair. "Watch this." He winked to Tummscoff, and crept low to the floor sneaking up behind the sleeping Basil. Ever so slowly the otter leaned up behind the arm chair, so he was less than a paw's length from the hare's ear. "BASIL!" He shouted as loud as he could. Basil leapt up from the armchair, ears straight up to attention blinking several times. He soon focused in on Cheek and reached a paw out to grab the insolent creature by the scruff of the neck. But Cheek was too fast or him, scurrying off towards the door, to hide behind Tummscoff.
"Tehee, got you good that time Basil." Laughed Cheek, from behind the safety of the young hare.
Narrowing his eyes at the insolent otter, Basil smoothed the wrinkles from his buff coloured jacked. You little bounder! Absolute insubordination in the ranks young sah! I ought to have your guts for garters, and your tail for tea. I say, who's the young chap you've brought along, wot wot. " With his attentions on Tummscoff ,he approached in a military manner. " Come now, youn'un, who are ye, name rank and number, as quick as ye like. Haven't got all day you know."
Tummscoff puffed out his chest, his ears straightened to attention and he barked out a response as he often imagined a young soldier hare might. "Name's Tummscoff Sah! Tummscoff Stag Vittlesmyth Sah! Of the western shore Vittlesmyth's Sah!"
Basil wiggled his ears, wincing at shouting. Placing his paws behind his back he casually encircled Tummscoff nodding with approval."Steady on laddie buck, I'm not deaf y'know. Vittlesmyth eh, I'll be bound, I take it you're Tiprunn Whiffelscutt Tummscoff Vittlesmyth's young'un?"
"Well, actually, he's my Granddad dontcha know. Told me about all the bally skirmishes and adventures from the good ole days on the Border Patrol wot. "The young hare spoke, his brown eyes, dazzling with a mix of excitement and pride.
"His mum and dad sent 'im this way to learn from the best Basil." Cheek interjected, nudging his new found friend on the shoulder.
With a clap of his paws Basil made a half step turn, and marched smartly towards the little hearth. A small iron poker leaned against the stone fire place, the poking end covered with soot but the handle polished so that it was shiny and smooth to paw. The figure of a hare stretched out mid run with ears straight to attention, formed the very end of the handle. Basil, scooped this poker up and held it his paw as though it were a pace stick. "Learn from the best? I should say so sah. It's been a number of seasons since I've trained young sprogs, but I suppose I have enough blood 'n vinegar to get the job done, wot wot. Provided, you're up for the challenge, eh, young rip." He prodded Tummscoff in the chest with the ear tips of the hare carving.
Heaving a heavy sigh, Tummscoff shifted his paws uneasily. He passed glanced between the old retired veteran, then back to the otter. Unsoldering his pack he offered up a weak smile his conscience heavy. "Well sah, I wouldn't want to start on the wrong paw, as it were. Y'see, the ole Mater and Pater didn't exactly send me here to learn about being perilous. Rather, well, I suppose it's all in this bally letter they sent along." With a nervous paw he retrieved a small folded piece of bark paper, and passed it to Basil. "
Unfolding the letter Basil, scanned though the letter. "hmm… Dear Mr. B. S. Hare, It is with deepest regret we place this burden upon you. Yes , yes, yes. We are left with no other alternative than to seek other living arrangements for our son Tummscoff, so on, and etcetera. If you relieve us of our burden, we would be forever in your debt, some more bits on something or other. Yours, with deepest regards, T.B. Vittlesymth. Oh wait a tick, there is a bit more here. Enclosed, is a flask of russet and pear cider as a token of our deepest thanks. "
Flushing to his eartips, young Tummscoff retrieved the flask from his pack and gave it to Basil. He said not a word for a long time, staring solemnly at the ground. Cheek, quirked a brow at the young hare. "Let me see if I have this right, ye've been kicked out o'the house?"
Tummscoff shrugged and nodded, with a heavy sigh. His big brown eyes passed up to Basil, the distant relative he so idolized as a leveret. It was as though he was waiting to be cast out of the cottage and sent on his way again. To his surprise, the older hare was most welcoming and sympathetic to his young nephew's situation.
"Well then, there's a thing. Lucky for you laddie buck I arranged for Foremole to expand the accommodations wot wot. You can bunk up with Cheek for present, wouldn't hurt to have a young upstart like yerself trudging around this part of the woodlands. Don't look so glum, young lad, many a brave and perilous warrior has been dumped from the home. Can't learn to jolly well fly until you've been chucked from the nest wot? I say, even many great badgerlords get ousted from the bally homestead, and those whallahs require a great deal of chucking. Seems t'me, there is only one thing t'do at a time like this."
"Wot might that be Nunky Baz?" Tummscoff asked his spirits returning.
"Drink this jolly ole cider of course. An' less of that Nunky Baz, if you please. Humph Nunky Baz indeed." Setting the poker back by the fire, Basil strolled over to a cozy kitchen area. As Basil was only a bachelor hare, the living quarters were humble and small. A small birch table with four matching chairs, were placed under the east facing window. While the furniture was roughly made, each had received a cheerful coat of yellow paint. Spread over the table was a square table cloth of crisp cream coloured linen, embroidered though out flowers of undeterminable species stitched with coarse green and orange thread. The table cloth had been a gift from old Mrs. Bankvole, a small thank-you for Basil's assistance, in rescuing the family from Cluny the Scourge. From the kitchen cupboard Basil retrieved three tin beakers, slightly dented with age and use.
Cheek, and Tummscoff, pulled up a chair each, and watched as Basil filled three beakers with the rich golden coloured cider. The two young ones licked their lips in eager anticipation. However, they waited until Basil was seated and the beakers passed around, before drinking. Basil took a long drink from his beaker, smacking his lips with satisfaction.
"Marvelous stuff this eh, wot. You laddie bucks best pace yerselves now, don't what either you shot to ribbons now. T'would be most bad form of me wot. Now then, best be getting on to the next order of business. Cheek, m'laddo, wot's to report from the bally educational endeavors?" The older hare drained his beaker, and contently filled another dram.
The young otter looked up from his beaker and tapped his rudder on the floor several times. A nervous habit many otters seemed to process. " Wot, I did at school t'day?" He paused a moment trying to recall the lessons so quickly forgotten. "Well, t'day Tim's dad John Churchmouse started the lessons with a surprise spelling quiz. I did much better on this 'un, than the last. Got three right, Mr. Churchmouse even said it was an improvement from the last four times I wrote it. I didn't even look off Mattimeo test this time, mostly 'cause 'e covered up 'is work." Cheek grumbled darkly. "Then at lunch, I made a giant sandwich, twice the size o' the one I made yesterday. Sister Pansy was so impressed she asked me to help her in the kitchen for the rest o'the afternoon."
Basil narrowed his eyes. "Is that so? Y'wouldn't be telling whallopers now would you laddie buck?"
"Oh no Basil, I swear me avadavat on it." Cheek stuck up an innocent pose, placing a paw over his heart and closing his eyes solemnly.
"As y'say young sirrah." Getting up from his seat Basil stored the cider in the low cupboard where all the drinks were stored. Shifting around his small den's kitchen he brought: two fresh loaves of hearty wheat and nut bread, sharp golden cheese, parsley and mushroom pasties, russet apples, and large plum pudding to end with. "Just a little light tea to tide the bod over till supper time dontcha know. We eat modest meals young master Tummscoff. Alas, the life of a bachelor, no sweet harewife to do the cooking an' washing up. Remember that, you young bucks when you're off living the warriors life. Most sad and lonely the life of a retired regimental hare, wot wot."
"Yer a great fibber Mr. Basil Stag Hare." Cheek announce, as he sprang from his seat to assist. The young otter set the small table for the three, finding plates, and cutlery, for the three of them. "Yer never sad or lonely, least not while I'm about." He cut the apples into neat wedges, sharing them about between him and Tummscoff.
"'suppose not, Have you keep you in line, dontcha know. " Spreading last summer's strawberry preserve over a piece of wheat and nutbread, Basil got down to the very serious task of eating. "Now, how about you find chaps tidy this little lot up after tea time? Afterwards, Cheek can show you the lay of the land, I imagine a fellow like yourself would enjoy that eh, Tummscoff?"
"Rather, Nunky Baz, that sounds like a top hole idea. I say, I'd love to see the jolly old country side wot."Tummscoff wasted no time polishing off the apples Cheek had sliced for him. The three were venerable stomachs on legs. The plates barely touched the food as each engaged in the art hares everywhere referred to as scoffing. While Basil was an old veteran in the custom, it was soon apparent young Tummscoff was a rising star. The young one had a pasty in both paws, eating bites from each alternatively.
"Haven't eaten in a while, huh, Tummscoff?" Cheek finished his plum pudding patting his belly indicating he had his fill.
Stuffing the remains of the pasties into his mouth, the young hare swallowed hard. "Mumph! Rather, haven't eaten in an absolute age, a whole two hours I think." Licking his paws he smiled roguishly. "I say, is there any more of those jolly ole apples, I'm rather partial to apple slices dontcha know."
…
When there was nothing left for tea, the young otter and hare tidied up the kitchen and washed the few dishes. Basil returned to his armchair, for his post tea-time nap encouraging the young ones to go exploring the area. Eager to show Tummscoff around Cheek, bounded though the golden early evening. The sun was not quite lowered down for sleep, but the golden hues were warm over the coloured foliage. Puttering around a small garden the otter checked on the remaining crops that had yet to be harvested for the winter.
"Basil planted most of this himself last spring. Went terribly to weed over the summer, we spent a full two days weeding an' tidying the mess up. Luckily it was a pretty damp summer an' not too many plants got spoiled. Although wit' the way ye' scoff we may have t'go to Redwall fer a few suppers this winter, or we'll starve." He chuckled to himself plucking a few last weeds from the soil and tossing them aside.
"Redwall, as in Redwall Abbey?" Tummscoff asked excitedly. "I've always wondered what one of those feasts they have tastes like. Is it true they have more tucker than beasts to eat it?"
Nodding, Cheek couldn't help but embellish upon Redwall's reputation. " Oh aye, more vittles than even ye could handle. The pound is filled with October ale, and the larders take up half the abbey. Sometimes, creatures have to sleep out in the lawns, on account there is no room left inside fer all the food. They make puddings the size o' boats, and pies that ten badgers couldn't lift, and don't start me on all the cheeses. I 'eard the reason Basil's the only hare in these parts, is cos' all the others explored from eating too much.
The young hare's eyes lit up dreamily." My word, perhaps I should pack in this whole warrior business and take up residence wot." He laughed. "I jolly well can't wait t'see the place. Will ye take me there Cheek? Y'wouldn't kid a chap would you? Y'will take me there. "
Clapping the hare's shoulder in a hearty manner the otter nodded. "Oh aye matey. I'll take ye there all right. But be warned, I have a reputation t'uphold there. They fancy me a bit of a hero on account of saving the Abbots life… twice. Did I ever tell you of that?"
Tummscoff shook his head.
Slapping his rudder like tail on the ground Cheek laughed. I didn't… well here goes. It all started when Sister Pansy decided to make a giant pear 'n apple pie…"
Leaves softly fell from branches, and the autumn sun dipped lower on the horizon. In the last lights of evening two young creatures could be heard laughing and telling one great fib after another. All was well in Mossflower woods.