Ch. 1
The young squirrel sighed and rested his head on the oak tree behind him. It was your average lazy summer day at Redwall Abbey-if only it would rain! The pond was low and what was left had to be used for cooking, drinking and wash, so he'd spent his afternoon carrying buckets from the river on a yolk across his back to the orchards and the crops.
He rubbed his aching neck and sighed. His mum, Abineaire, had asked him if he'd wanted to stop almost three hours ago, and if truth be told he had. But he'd only just now stopped, because that was when the other squirrel helping had.
Think of the devil...A tap on his shoulder caused him to turn, and there was Tulia, his arch-rival, the squirrel lass he had been carrying water to beat. She was holding a water jug and a ladle. "Figured you'd be thirsty, Achten," she said cheerily. "I'm beat. Good show out there today." He only nodded, feeling so tired he wasn't sure if he'd ever speak again. He took the jug from her and set it on the ground beside him, dipping out half a dozen ladlefuls and downing them all before his thirst was satisfied. Tulia smiled widely and sat wearily beside him.
"I wish it would rain, don't you? I've been dreaming about thunderstorms, and I'll wake up and walk outside, wondering where the puddles are." She laughed, a sound like bells-not like the enormous bells in the Abbey bell tower, but more like sleigh bells in the winter: high and musical. Just the thought of winter made Achten long for snow on his tongue. He managed a weak smile but said nothing. Tulia was a chattery squirrel; always full to bursting with words. Achten didn't usually mind much, but sometimes he just wanted to be left alone.
Then again, it was an improvement from the emaciated, silent, wounded, filthy little squirrelmaid that had been brought to Redwall a few years ago by a group of lady warriors-they called themselves the Rivermaid Runners-who had rescued her from a group of slave drivers "far away by the place where the river meets the sea." It had taken her almost a year, but Tulia had revealed herself to be bright, lithe, bouncy, and outgoing. Just the thought of Tulia's former self made Achten shudder, and he directed his thoughts elsewhere.
Tulia chattered on until at last she grew weary and fell silent. They sat drowsily in the stuffy shade for a long while, watching the bees buzz lazily—or was it tiredly?-by. The grass itself seemed to wither before their very eyes.
Dong! Dong! Dong! The low, rich tones of the twin bells in the tower resounded strongly across the Abbey grounds. The two young squirrels roused themselves from their stupor and got to their weary paws, hurrying into the Abbey for supper. Achten thought he would surely drown in his own spittle, his mouth watered so when he saw the spread: Mole deeper 'n' ever pie, otter hotroot stew ("ain't nothin hotter for an otter!"), fresh summer salad, peach tarts, mashed potatoes with butter and blackberry sauce, honey bread, fish with cheese and tomatoes, dandelion and strawberry cordial, and plenty of other food and drink. Raspberries, strawberries, cherries, blackberries, and peaches swimming in meadowcream served as a delectable dessert.
Achten sighed as he sank back in his chair, feeling full, sleepy, and dreadfully fat. Abbess Josine rose at the head of the table. The pleasantly plump little vole looked sore, too, and slightly hunched over. She had been carrying water along with the rest to save the crops from death by dehydration. She was determined to be right up there with the strongest of laborers, and she had managed to carry water as long as Nora, the resident badger of Redwall. It was showing, though, and she winced slightly as she lifted her head to look at her people.
Josine did not have the squeaky voice usually associated with rodents. Her voice was round and full in a very pleasant way, and her clear words echoed around Cavern Hole as she spoke to the Abbey residents. "I want to thank all of those who helped to carry water today," she called. "It was a great help and I'm sure the crops will flourish under our care. The water we carried today should last them three days if not longer, so I expect everyone who helped today to spend tomorrow relaxing and perhaps stretching off the soreness I'm sure we'll all be dealing with for a few days." A wry smile twisted her lips and Cavern Hole rang with laughter and cheers from the relieved water carriers. "And now it's time the little ones were off to bed, and perhaps some of the older ones, too." More chuckles. The Dibbuns raced away from the table, shrieking with laughter and complaints. Nora, Abineaire, and two mousemaids called Laurel and Mirabelle all shot after the mischievous little ones. Laughter echoed through the Abbey on that tired summer evening, across the grounds and through the woods….