Disclaimer: I do not own Redwall
Winter lay like an icy blanket over Mossflower woods. It seemed that every tree, bush, and flower was covered with thick, glittering snow. Ivy, and other such vines strung throughout the canopy, shone bright beneath a coating of ice so clear it was like glass. Now, even the warmest of days felt cold enough to freeze a creature through if they dared set paw outside. The season had come early this year, bringing with it more snow than most of the abbeybeasts could recall. Only Martin, the resident abbey warrior who had originally hailed from the North, could remember colder winters. Though the dibbuns pestered him seemingly day and night for tales from those cold seasons, Martin remained stubbornly quiet on the matter. Vurg, Denno, and Dulam were more vocal on the subject, willingly launching into narratives of the winters of the North. Martin had largely put a stop to this when he caught Vurg telling the babes the story of Martin's first winter, and how he had made habit of climbing anything that would get him above the snow so that he jump off into it. While Martin had conceded that the activity had turned out rather harmless for him, he still pointed out that the things he had climbed were relatively close to the ground, as opposed to the abbey walls. Thus was winter at Redwall Abbey.
Snow fell lightly upon the abbey lawn as Bella, badgermother of Redwall, crossed to the gatehouse. Though 'twas only mid-afternoon, the sun was already low in the sky, sinking westward towards the realm of night. Bella did not bother to knock upon the gatehouse door before gently pushing it open. Martin's things were arranged neatly around the single room. The abbey warrior had set out for St. Ninians together with Gonff at the first sight of dawn, trekking down to the church to see if the storm from the night before had done any damage to the building. Bella suspected that the two would have to stay overnight at the church if they did not arrive back before sunset, as the snow-covered woodlands became perilous to walk through once the sun disappeared.
Following behind Bella came two dibbuns, Gonfflet the son of Gonff the mousethief, and squirrel Chugger. They giggled and laughed together, challenging each other to see which could jump to the further pawprint without landing on unmarked snow. Bella caught them up in her large paws as they reached the gatehouse. "What brings you two out to here on such a cold afternoon?" she asked with a chuckle.
Gonfflet blew snow from his nose and answered, "We came out to see when father and Martin'll be back." Chugger nodded vigorously in agreement, clambering up Bella's arm onto her shoulders where he perched with his tail around the back of her neck.
"Why are you out here, Miz Bella?" Chugger asked.
"Do you recall meeting Gingivere and Lady Sandingomm last summer?" Bella asked them, ducking into the gatehouse to stir the embers left in the hearth.
"I remember," Gonfflet said. "Ferdy and Coggs came with us. Mr. Gingivere was huge! He might've even been bigger than you, Miz Bella!"
Bella chuckled again. "So he might be, Gonfflet." She placed another log on the embers, blowing lightly to help the dry timber catch fire. "They promised to come visit Redwall during our Midwinter feasts. So since Martin isn't here to unbar the gate, I've come out to unbar it when they arrive."
"Can we wait with you, Miz Bella?" Chugger asked. He scrambled down Bella's back to sit next to small fire.
"Of course you can," Bella told the two youngsters. She continued coaxing the small fire until it caught, then settled back to listen to Gonfflet and Chugger chattering away at each other while she waited.
Five seasons had passed since the autumn when Martin had returned from his quest to the north. Bella firmly believed that the abbey was the richer for gaining the stories and knowledge of the four creatures Martin had brought back with him,Vurg, Dulam, Denno, and Beau. Chugger and Trimp had been adopted by Columbine almost immediately, bringing the mousethief family up to five, six if you counted Martin. Bella smiled at the thought. True, it was as Martin had said the winter before. He was the last of his family, with no blood relatives to carry on his name and sword. Yet he was not without a family. He was closest to Gonff and Columbine, with Chugger and Gonfflet naming him the favorite uncle, but many of the Redwallers felt that the abbey warrior was part of a larger family. As one of the founders of Redwall, he was always willing to help solve whatever problems might arise during the construction. He was greatly loved by the abbey dibbuns as well.
Bella's musings were interrupted by the sound of somebeast shouting outside the main gate. "Ho there. Is anybeast home? Squire Gingivere, Lady Sandingomm, and paw-weary wanderers would like to come in." Followed by Gonfflet and Chugger, Bella hurried from the gatehouse to unbar the gate.
Standing on the path outside, covered with a light dusting of snow, stood Gingivere and Sandingomm together with their three kittens. Also with them stood a small group of travelers consisting of an odd assortment of creatures. From two young shrews, to hedgehogs and mice, to the aging hare and badger who seemed to be in charge. Gingivere motioned to the odd company.
"They were passing by the farm right as we were heading out. We were hoping you wouldn't mind a few extra faces at Redwall with these storms becoming a nightly occurrence."
Bella nodded and smiled warmly. "The gates of Redwall are always welcome to friendly travelers," she said. "Please, come in." As the part of travelers passed over the abbey threshold, Bella motioned Gingivere aside. "Martin and Gonff went out to St. Ninians this morning and have yet to return," she told him. "I'm sorry to ask this of you, but would you be able to go a short distance down the path to see if they are on their way back yet?"
"'Tis no trouble at all, Bella," Gingivere said. "I'll be back shortly, hopefully with those two in tow."
"Thank you, Gingivere," Bella said. "I'll send Skipper out to open the gates as soon as I can." Gingivere nodded to her and, with a quiet word to his wife, headed out down the path once more.
Bella followed Lady Sandingomm and the travelers into the abbey grounds and barred the gate with the help of the other badger. As she turned to head back to the abbey, the aging hare stepped forward and made a leggy bow.
"Many thanks to you, good Marm," he said. "Allow me to introduce myself. I am Ballaw de Quincewold. The badger lady there is Rowanoak. Together we are the head of the Rambling Rosehip Players. I must thank you for your hospitality. Wot."
Bella smiled at the hare, some sixth sense telling her that he would get along fabulously with Beau. "I am Bella of Brockhall," she introduced herself, shaking Ballaw's paw. "We at Redwall Abbey make it our purpose to offer shelter to anybeast who come seeking it, especially during cold seasons such as this. Please, be welcome here."
More introductions followed as they crossed the main lawn to the abbey building. Bella learned that the mouse who had shouted for her to open the gate was called Brome, and had two young children by the names of Myrtle and Tintin with him. The mice Kastern and Gauchee, Celandine and Trefoil the squirrelmaids, and a mole by the name of Buckler introduced themselves as some of the first members of the troupe. The group had expanded quite a bit, they said, when they traveled north. Kastern's husband, a mouse by the name of Yarrow explained that only half the company participated in the troupe as actors. The other half was made up of children, wanders, set-makers, and spouses such as himself. Bella found this easy to believe as she watched a pair of otters, Keyla and Tullgrew, attempting to convince their four young ones to come inside as the reached the front doors. The troupe's little cart, which Rowanoak had been pulling, was left just outside the doors with a thick, waterproof blanket pulled over the top.
Once inside, the group began shedding heavy cloaks and sodden scarves. Lady Sandingomm took a large pack from her back and carefully set it upon the hall floor. Reaching inside, she helped pull a mousemaid free of the sack, while Brome ran back out to the cart only to return with a pair of crutches.
"Thank you, Lady Sandingomm," the maid said. She turned as Bella strode up to her.
"I believe I've met everybeast else," Bella said. "What is your name, miss?"
The mousemaid swept into a shallow curtsy, balancing carefully on the crutches. "My name is Laterose of Noonvale," she said. "But please, call me Rose."
"Welcome to Redwall, Rose," Bella said, returning Rose's curtsy with a small bow. "I'm sorry to intrude, but are you injured?" She motioned to the crutches.
Rose shook her head. "Not currently," she said. "My brother and I ran afoul of some vermin many seasons back. I was wounded then. Each winter since, the cold has settled into my bones and made it difficult to walk long distances. I have little trouble during the warmer seasons."
"I see," Bella said. "I am glad to hear that you have recovered, it must make for quite the tale."
"It does indeed," Ballaw said, catching the end of the conversation. "The whole story is part of one of our plays, you know. We'd be happy to perform it as thanks for your hospitality. Wot wot."
"What about the war story, Miz Bella?" Little Gonfflet came hurrying over to tug on Bella's robe, followed by Chugger. Her looked up at her imploringly, as though afraid that the travelers' tale would replace his father's traditional telling of the war of Mossflower.
"No need to worry, Gonfflet," Bella reassured the little mouse. "It only takes four evenings for your father to finish the tale. The midwinter feasts go on for three more days after that. Plenty of time for two stories." She patted the pair between the ears and gently pushed them toward Cavern Hole. "I've got to go find Skipper, why don't you two show our guests to Cavern Hole?" The two dibbuns readily agreed, and Bella saw the group begin moving toward the stairs before she headed off to find Skipper.
Rose gazed about her in awe as Gonfflet and Chugger led the group across the hall. The room stretched high above her, its ceiling hidden from view in the dark shadows caused by the setting sun outside. Wall sconces could be seen at intervals between the thick stone columns on either side of the hall. Below each sconce, near the floor, was a stone rose carved into the wall. Shallow alcoves were placed between these, each one providing a small space of privacy in the enormous hall. The seven broadstone steps leading down to Cavern Hole were just a detailed, with the word REDWALL carved into either side of the steps. Laughter and singing floated up from the hall below. Rose navigated the steps easily enough, arriving in Cavern Hole just behind Gonfflet and Chugger.
The smaller hall was a kaleidoscope of colors. Winter greenery of evergreen and ivy hung from the walls, dotted with the colorful berries of holly and mistletoe. Creatures of every size and shape and wearing all sorts of colors filled the hall. Some of the creatures sat at long tables, while others stood about talking with one another, while even more creatures hurried about setting up this and that. A group of squirrels scrambled about in the rafters, talking and laughing with each other as they lit candles. Several otters staggered into the hall, carrying an enormous cauldron between them. Mice and hedgehogs scurried hither and thither placing trays of food upon the tables.
Rose allowed her eyes to follow the young squirrel, Chugger, as he darted into the crowd, and soon found herself gazing at a familiar face.
"Trimp Rover," she cried, "I haven't seen you in seasons. How are you?"
Trimp was a touch plumper than the last time Rose had seen her, good food and friendly company had done her well, it seemed. Dressed in a pale blue smock and soft white apron, she was helping to lay out food upon the tables.
The hedgehogmaid left off the biscuits she was arranging on the table and hurried over to Rose. "Miss Rose," she said, carefully hugging the mousemaid, "What a surprise, seeing you this far south. I thought you lot were returning to Noonvale?"
Rose chuckled, settling herself down onto one of the long benches. "So we did indeed. Rowanoak and Ballaw wanted to make one last journey this direction before they retire from the troupe."
"Is that so?" Trimp asked, dusting her paws on her apron. "Well, I'm certainly glad you ended up here. I'm sure you'll enjoy your stay. Redwall's a lot like Noonvale, just less secluded."
Rose laughed and looked around. The sense of companionship and general friendliness of the crowd did remind her of Noonvale. "I'm looking forward to meeting your new friends, Trimp," she said.
Now it was Trimp's turn to laugh. "You've met one already," she said. "I met little Chugger six seasons ago, goodness me has he grown since then. He was no more than a little tyke the day we rescued him."
"Rescued him?" Rose cut in.
Trimp nodded. "I was traveling with a group from Redwall, on our way to the northwestern coastlands, when we came across a tribe of weasels. They had Chugger with them, tied to a stake by his neck. 'O course our abbey warrior wasn't going to stand by while an innocent dibbun was enslaved, so we went ahead and rescued Chugger. He told us that his parents were dead, so we took him with us. He's been a part of Redwall ever since."
Rose smiled at the tale. Her mind briefly flashed to a warrior she had known in seasons past, but she quickly forced the thought from her mind. Seasons knew if he was even still alive, it would do her no good to wonder where he had gone. "You have an abbey warrior?" she asked Trimp instead.
Trimp nodded. "He's retired now. Still brings his sword out for special occasions, though. I suppose the dibbuns would probably cause a ruckus if he didn't." She chuckled at the thought. "He's from the north too, you know. Came marching down south to Mossflower seasons ago."
"Mayhaps he's met Ballaw and Rowanoak before, then," Rose said.
Trimp shrugged. "He might have, or he might not have," she said. "He was wounded pretty badly in the Mossflower War, from what I hear. Couldn't remember a thing from before coming to Mossflower once he recovered. Even if he has met Ballaw and Rowanoak before, it's not likely he'd remember them."
"I see," Rose said.
"He's quite kind, though," Trimp continued. "You'll like meeting him, I think." The hogmaid glanced up, then straightened and began waving her paw in the air. "Martin!" she called. "Martin, Gonff, we've got guests."
Rose choked on air, whirling around in her seat as best she could. Trimp, thankfully, had not noticed, being distracted as she was by Chugger and Gonfflet, who were attempting to sneak a few early biscuits. Rose stared at the mouse who had just descended into Cavern Hole. He still wore his winter cloak, with a light dusting of snow on his shoulders. A sword in a black leather scabbard hung across his back, swinging gently as he walked. "I'll be right there, Trimp," he called. He hurried across the hall to the head of the main table. Moving with a fluidity that surprised Rose, he removed his cloak and and sword and hung them on the back of a chair before approaching the group of travelers. As he got closer, Rose could make out the scars along his arms and across his face.
"Hello, Trimp," Martin said as he reached the little group, "Who are all these creatures?"
Trimp stopped scolding Chugger long enough to introduce Rose. "This is a friend of mine. Rose of Noonvale. I met her while I was roaming about in the north."
"Please to meet you, Rose of Noonvale," Martin said with a short bow. "My name is Martin. Welcome to Redwall Abbey."
Rose nodded dumbly, temporarily robbed of speech as she met Martin's eyes. Clear gray eyes like the sea on a sunny winter day. This Martin was one and the same as the Martin she had met seasons ago at the walls of Marshank, right down to the notch in his right ear. And yet, he did not seem to recognize her. Realizing that Martin was still waiting for her to speak, Rose managed to find her voice. "Thank sir you… I mean…" Rose felt heat rising in her cheeks as the words spilled out.
"She means thank you, sir," Brome said, stepping in to save her from further embarrassment. "I think she was a bit startled, is all. You look very much like a friend of ours whom we haven't seen for some time."
"I must apologize for startling you, then," Martin said. "Please, call me Martin. You are?"
"Brome." Brome took Martin's outstretched paw and shook it firmly. Martin looked as though he was about to say something else when somebeast called for him across the room. Quickly excusing himself, the warrior hurried off across Cavern Hole, leaving Rose and Brome staring after him.
"Please tell me you saw the same thing I just saw," Rose murmured.
Brome nodded slowly. "That's Martin alright," he said. "Although it was as though he had never met us before."
"Trimp said he's lost all his memories of his life before coming to Mossflower," Rose said. She looked around for the hogmaid, but Trimp had vanished into the crowd. Several other noonvalers had begun to gather around Rose and Brome, however, most of them still staring at Martin as he ran about helping where he could. He was everywhere at once, it seemed. Helping the squirrels to light torches before rushing off to bring dishes from the kitchen. Rose tried not to stare, but she found herself following his every movement. Eventually it came time for the meal to begin, and a bell was rung to signal everybeast to their seats.
Martin sat at the main table to the right of an ancient mouse. "Abbess Germaine," said Trimp, who had decided to sit next to Rose. Bella, the kindly badgermother, sat to Germaine's left. Martin leaned close the Abbess as she said something to him. Trimp nudged Rose gently and whispered, "Martin'll probably say grace. Abbess Germaine won't be heard over the entire hall." As Trimp had said, Martin stood and spread his paws for silence.
"Though the winter cold may be,
Warmth and happiness to thee,
Family and friends gathered here,
For a night of merriness and cheer,
Partake thee now of good food and drink,
But while you eat please do think,
Remember now those who fell,
As their story tonight we do tell,
The price of peace is heavy paid,
May their sacrifice not be in vain."
A heavy silence followed the last words, until a dibbun sneezed and everybeast began to laugh and talk again. Rose could hardly believe the spread before her. She had seen feasts in Noonvale, but even those had not prepared her for a feast at Redwall. The food seemed endless. Plates piled high with slices of nut bread and oat rolls still hot from the over. Raspberry, blackberry, and mulberry scones drizzled with sugar glaze. Mushroom and onion flan. Goozeberry trifles. Savory soups. Rhubarb crisp. Deeper 'n ever turnip 'n tater 'n beetroot pie. Even a cake frosted with meadowcream and decorated with crystalized fruits and flowers. And of course, plenty of drinks to accompany all the fine food. There was hot mint tea to warm cold paws. October ale. Elderberry cordial. Apple cider. There was a keg of cherry wine, although Rose avoided that one out of habit.
As the feasting began to slow, a pudgy mouse Trimp had called Gonff stepped out into the middle of the floor. He trilled a few notes on a reed flute before declaring, "Old friends and new, welcome to Redwall Abbey's midwinter feasts. As you eat, please enjoy our tale of how Redwall came to be." Raising his flute, he played a few more notes before returning to his seat.
A hedgehog who looked nearly as old as Abbess Germaine took the floor. "It was a cold winter," he began. "Colder even than this, and made colder still by the rule of Verdauga Greeneyes. The wildcat king held Mossflower in an iron grip, daring anybeast to try and claim freedom while he reigned. Such was Mossflower on the day that a warrior wandered down from the north. A patrol of Kotir soldiers had just left my family's hut when they came across him. A lone mouse carrying a sword. It was against Verdauga's law to carry weapons, so the patrol captured him and took him to Kotir." The old hedgehog broke off momentarily, chuckling to himself. "Although, it took six of them to do it."
The hedgehog sat, and Gingivere took up the tale. He told of how Martin had been brought before his father, and consequently thrown into the Kotir dungeons. "In a fit of anger at being overruled," he said, "My sister, Tsarmina, took Martin's blade and snapped in two. She declared that he be thrown in the dungeon with the broken hilt hung about his neck." Rose bit back a gasp. She recalled Martin's desire to regain his father's sword during their quest to Noonvale, and her heart went out to the warrior who had regained the sword only to lose it again. "My father was poisoned that very night," Gingivere continued, "And my sister framed me for his murder. I was also thrown into the dungeons, though I was not allowed to speak to Martin. We would wait there until spring."
Gonff took up the tale next, cartwheeling into the middle of floor with a grin plastered across his face. "And when spring came around, who should be traveling about the wood but m' good self. Gonff, Prince of Mousethieves. I was out for a stroll in the woods, keeping careful watch, when a Kotir patrol spotted me."
"You were pretending to fly a cloud," Martin interrupted.
"Right," Gonff said, "So as I was saying, I was pretending to fly a cloud when a Kotir patrol spotted me. I'd been liberating supplies from the Kotir larder, y'see, so they told me I was needed at Kotir. Didn't give me much choice in the matter either, even though I told them it'd have to be another day." Several audience members were chuckling now. "So, when we got to Kotir, they decided it would be easier to feed two prisoners at once, so they threw me into a cell my matey over there, Martin. O' course, he wasn't my matey yet since I 'adn't met him. The fool guards thought they'd make things easier on themselves, little did they know they'd made a terrible mistake. Y'see, my friends in the CORIM, the Council Of Resistance In Mossflower, weren't about to let me rot in a Kotir cell, so they arranged a rescue for the next day at dawn." Gonff went on to explain how he and Martin had escaped from the cell, followed by their mad dash through the palace.
Skipper stood next to tell of how the rescue party had whisked Martin and Gonff away to Camp Willow and of the battle between the Gloomer and Stormfin. He ended the tale for the night by explaining how Martin and Gonff had come to Brockhall, along with the arrival of the Loamhedge mice. The dibbuns began to protest almost before Skipper had finished talking. Crying out that they were not tired at all and that they wanted to hear what happened next. Rose was also on the edge of her seat, having sensed a tale of grand adventure.
Martin stood, laughing softly. "Don't worry," he told the dibbuns, "We'll continue the story tomorrow evening. It's late now, and you all must head to bed if you want to play in the snow in the morning." This seemed to appease the dibbuns, who stopped shouting for the next part of the story.
Rose watched as a tiny mousemaid went up to Martin and tugged on his tunic. "Will you come up t' the dorm'tories wiv us?" she asked. Martin grinned and swung the little maid up onto his shoulders.
"I will," he said, "So long as you promise to go right to sleep."
"Promise," the mousemaid said.
Martin led the dibbuns up out of Cavern Hole, followed by a small procession of parents. Rose watched them go, smiling to herself. Perhaps Martin had forgotten his life in the north, but he certainly seemed happy enough here at Redwall.
Dirty dishes and leftover food were taken to the kitchen to be dealt with in the morning as creatures began to file out of the hall rubbing eyes and stifling yawns. Rose found herself in the company of a mousemaid called Sister Amyl who had offered to let Rose use the extra bed in her room off of Great Hall. Rose had readily accepted the offer once she realized that this meant fewer steps to climb. Amyl matched her pace as she made her way slowly up the steps to Great Hall. Martin was coming down the stairs from the dormitories as the entered the hall.
"Are the dibbuns asleep already," Sister Amyl asked.
Martin shook his head. "They're putting up a good pretense of it though. I'm sure they'll be asleep soon enough. Oh, thank you Gonff." Gonff had come up behind Rose and Amyl, carrying with him Martin's cloak and sword.
"Figured you wouldn't want t' leave it inside overnight, matey," Gonff said, handing Martin the sword.
"You're right on that count, matey," Martin said. He fastened the sword belt across his chest and took his cloak from Gonff. "G'night Gonff, Sister Amyl, Miss Rose," he said. Fastening his cloak about his neck, he strode off toward the doors at the far end of the hall.
"Is he going to sleep outside?" Rose whispered to Sister Amyl.
Sister Amyl chucked. "No," she said. "Martin sleeps in the gatehouse. He sleepwalks sometimes, so being in the gatehouse means he doesn't wake anybeast else up." Rose watched the small figure open the door to the wintery night. He was temporarily silhouetted against the snow, and then he was gone, trekking off into the white night. Rose wondered for a moment if that was what it had looked like when he left Poleekin's house. Small and alone, going out in a wide world without anybeast to join him. "Rose," Sister Amyl broke through Rose's revery. "This way."
The room was small, but cozy. Sister Amyl's things were neatly organized on one side of the room, while the bed on the other side was bare. Rose set her traveling pack at the end of the bed and quickly slid into a nightshirt, shivering in the chill air. Drowsiness overcame her as she slipped between the covers and she was soon asleep, dreaming of cold northern winters and a mouse with warm grey eyes.