The sun had just barely dipped down beneath Mossflower's tallest trees, and Mariel Gullwhacker had a hint of wistfulness in her smile as she looked out the Gatehouse window and thought about how the red light would be reflecting off the waves by Salamandastron. Mariel's days as a roving warrior were done for now, and she was happy to be at Redwall with her dearest friends, but there were still times she missed her wild and fearless youth.
The peaceful sunset was interrupted when Abbot Saxtus tumbled off the ladder with a whoop. He had been so quiet up 'til now that Mariel had almost forgotten he was in the Gatehouse with her.
"I've got it!"
She turned from her vigil with a swift frown. "By the fur and feathers, Abbot, I've just gotten the little one to sleep!"
The fearsome light in her eyes had quailed many a verminous scoundrel, from the King of the Searats to the Foxwolf of Southsward, but Saxtus just grinned. "Sorry, old friend."
Mariel peeked out the window again. No sign yet of Dandin and Bowly. She shrugged her shoulders and sat down on an overstuffed footstool, drawing her knees up to rest against her chin. "Well, what is it you found?"
Saxtus waved a scroll triumphantly. "The tale of the last adventure of Martin the Warrior."
Mariel perked up her ears. "His final adventure before hanging up his sword?"
Saxtus shook his head. "His final adventure of all—the one that sent him to the Dark Forest."
"Ah," said Mariel.
Saxtus shook the dust out of his habit and plopped down in the armchair companion to Mariel's footstool. "Y'see, everybody knows that he died eventually, but no one knows how. So I decided, especially after Aubretia and Bultip visited us a few seasons back, that we ought to learn the story of his passing, too. Rumor has it that he's buried right here in the Abbey, somewhere, but nobody knows where. Wouldn't it be amazing to find his tomb?"
Mariel furrowed her brow, but before she could answer, a tiny wail burst upon their ears. Saxtus winced as Mariel threw him an exasperated glare.
"I told you so!" she hissed, before rising to her feet and walking over to where a small mousebabe with ears far too large for her head was weeping as though her heart was about to break.
"Young Peri," Mariel said, tapping her foot on the floor, "What are you doing awake?"
"Wahhhhh," Periwinkle wailed. "I woke up when th' Abbot shouted, and then I heard 'im talking about Martin, and … wahhhh!"
Saxtus rose to his feet as well, a little hindered by his rounded stomach, and scooped Peri into his arms. "Now then, little Dibbun, why should hearing about a story about the great Martin make you cry?"
Mariel, who would have bundled her smallest, most exasperating daughter off to bed with a drink of water and swift kiss, contained her impatience and sat back down to watch the Abbot attempt to calm the great dramatist down.
"Because," Peri sniffed. "I don't want him to be dead."
"But his spirit still dwells within this Abbey, you know," Saxtus said. "Your mother and father have both seen him and heard him speak, and even I have, once or twice. His spirit watches over us and guides us, just as the spirit of Laterose brings us peace and rest."
"We could use some of that in this household," Mariel muttered to herself. Neither the Abbot nor the mousebabe paid her the slightest attention.
Peri sniffed again, playing her grief for all she could. "But they all die, Father Abbot, all the heroes. Martin, and G-Gonff, and Rose, and M-Mother Mellus, and Colonel Clary an' Brig Thyme, and F-F-Finbarr Galedeep, and, and …"
Mariel was sure that Saxtus had something very wise about the nature of life and death to say, but that same sense of kindred spirit that so frustrated her with her daughter now rose up to sympathize. She promptly plucked Peri from Saxtus' arms.
"Now then, little one, don't you know that true heroes never die?"
Peri stopped crying. She twisted around to look at her mother, amazement stamped plain upon her features. "They don't?"
"They don't?" Saxtus echoed skeptically.
Now it was Mariel's turn to ignore her old friend. "No," she told Peri. "True heroes just go on to find new adventures, where we can't follow. But someday, if you are brave and strong and true, you may be a hero yourself, and then, someday, you will be able to journey along with them."
Peri snuggled down in Mariel's arms. "A true hero, brave and strong and true," she said, her eyes closing sleepily. "Like you an' Daddy."
Mariel's smile, this time, held no wistfulness at all. Her adventures had changed, these days, but they were no less exciting for all that. These tiny lives, as much as they frustrated her and made her wish for a few vermin skulls to crack with her Gullwhacker, were thrilling and delightful and extraordinary.
And someday they would be grown, and then she could take up her role as wandering warrior again.
For now, she could wait.
She rose to her feet cautiously, so as not to joggle the sleeping Dibbun in her arms. "I'm putting her back to bed," she whispered to Saxtus, who nodded and sat looking at the fire after she left. He could hear Mariel humming an old sea shanty as she tucked Peri back in.
The Abbot looked at the scroll clutched tightly in his paw, holding the secrets to Martin's final days. He thought again of Mariel's words to Peri.
His mind made up, he came swiftly to his feet. The scroll would be hidden someplace where it would only be found when it was needed. If Martin and Rose and Gonff were still sharing in adventures, deep in the Dark Forest, there was no need to remind everyone of the Warrior's final resting place here at the Abbey, no need to dwell on his final battle in Mossflower. No need, really, to think of him as dead, just in a new place.
Saxtus left the Gatehouse on silent feet, noticing as he did the glimmer of a lantern down the path. Dandin and Bowly, back late again, the rascals. The Abbot noted to himself that he really needed to suggest to them that once in a while Dandin stay behind to put the babes to bed, and give Mariel a chance to indulge her fighting spirit.
Not tonight, though. Tonight, he was going to find a place to leave the scroll where it would only be found by another brave soul, in the time of necessity.
"True heroes never die," he murmured to himself again. "They just go on to discover new adventures."
Author's Note: I was crushed, this morning, to learn of Brian Jacques' death. As always, I found myself turning to writing to ease the grief. When a blog post in his honor didn't suffice, I came to fiction, my first and best love. And what better way to pay tribute to the great man than by a snippet set in his world?
May your adventures in the Dark Forest be long and merry, and may the feasts be great, Mr. Jacques. You will be missed.