*TRILL*

By TruaMethist

NOTE: Same disclaimer and foreword as Chapter 1! Not more to say, so instead listening to me go on about Triss and Trill, read on and most of all, enjoy!

PLEASE READ AND REVIEW!

Thank you to those who reviewed my first chapter! Darth Tabby, thank you for your criticism. There will be more characters of course, and I sort of made the vermin part long because I needed to show the beginnings of certain events, besides the Sea Lord's army moving toward the land, that will happen later. Another reason why it was long is because I have a really bad tendency to go on and on and on; especially with a story like this where there are no limits (school papers actually have a limit) to how low this will be. And his cruelty IS a bit overboard, but I'll think of someway to tone it down without a sudden personality change, maybe something will happen that makes him, uh, I don't know. Augh! More work for me ahead!

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BOOK 1: SOUND OF THE TRILL

*Chapter 2 - A Trilsune in Blossom*



PART 1 - After the First Flower

Extract from the journal of Brother Bumbilo, Recorder and Historian of Redwall Abbey in Mossflower Country.

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Spring, is it too good to be true? Answer me this, Mister! Does the sun rise in the west and set in the east? No, of course not! Dearie me, but then I look back at the Winter of the First Bloom, and how could spring be here after the long wait? Ah, the Winter of the First Bloom. I recalled Abbess Okarina naming the previous season this because when all life is supposed to be stripped from Mossflower, young Fritty the otter found a flower blooming near the south wall. Imagine, a flower, one of the most beautiful ones I've seen in a good few seasons at that, blossoming right as winter's bell rings. Abbess Okarina's exact words were, as she pointed at the delicate petals, "There's a trilsune in blossom". A trilsune? I've never heard of this breed of blossom before, and neither had young Fritty, but the Abbess merely dug the flower out and planted it within Redwall. But of course, we listened to her, as she is a wise creature, very learned indeed. Odd, eh? Oops. Ah, I've gotten carried away. I must tell myself whenever I write, "Bumbilo, old Bumbilo, old Bumbilo you fellow! What are you supposed to be doing this very second?" And I'd think, "Writing down Redwall Abbey's history, of course!" Soon I'd realize that I'm not doing my job as Recorder, and finally I'd get back on track. Sigh . I think I did it again!

For many days I have sat, curled up like most ancient squirrels, next to the ovens in the kitchens, attempting to warm up my bushy but frail tail, my humble quill scratching at the parchment like one might do if he or she had a terrible itch. Even as Friar Grundle busily prepared luncheon and supper and breakfast in a busy manner, shouting for this and that and making a great deal of noise, I could still here the merry din and revelry outside. If at any time I stepped within range of the joyous bubble, a naughty Dibbun - what we can the little babies of the Abbey - (or it could be the Abbess) would throw a snowball and I'd be soaked to the fur. If I started yelling, mist would escape from my mouth and my poor crystal glasses would fog up, then little titters of laughter would be heard all around me. I'm blind enough, thanks. Aha, but the snow has melted, and no more snowballs for you scalawags! Oh, no attempt to insult either the Dibbuns, or the Abbess, of course.

Alas, seasons roll by like crisp autumn apples rolling down a hill, a steep one, mind you. While our lovely Redwall Abbey and many memories stay as young as ever, we get older no matter how hard we try to concentrate all those gray hairs off. I know, I've tried! From my old days when I could run around the pond without stopping to breath, only a few remain. Currently we do not have an Abbey warrior to look after us. Varshe, descendant of Deyna the Warrior, has passed. Martin's legendary sword hangs unused above our tapestry. Hopefully, Martin the Warrior, our Abbey guardian, will bring forward another beast to look after us. But all of the Abbey warriors have left their own mark. Their wisdom, kindness, and strength have made our Abbey greater, their knowledge planted into the sandstone and down to the very foundations of Redwall, and forever with their calm certainty will they . Oh no, bad habits are often the hardest to break, as my father said. I better get a move on!

Who else? Ah, out of my old crew, Wouma the badger still lives. She is now the Abbey Mother; woe to the Dibbuns who are caught out of bed! Haha, I'm just kidding, Wouma. Hidro the mouse is up and about also, far livelier than I am! He likes to run around with the Dibbuns, helping Wouma give mischievous Dibbuns bathes. Ronine, Pentquil, Chirp, Shelby, and many others have come to rest, leaving me and my achy bones behind. They have gone to the shining and joyous meadows, peace upon their memories.

Now what should I say, oh yes! Today is the Spring feast! Friar Grundle has been in a frenzy, running zigzagged around kitchen helpers, nearly trampling poor Quobby the mole when the oven started smoking, his precious invention inside, a turnover of some sort, I think. Abbess Okarina has been quite secretive these days, careful to not slip any clue to which name she will choose for this season. In fact, I believe she is still waiting for the right name, but that's just old Bumbilo's thoughts. Will it be Spring of the Bumbilo, perhaps?

More very good news! Like a sign of the start of a new season, an orphan haremaid has been found! While Uomba and her tiny son (cute and plump Ninnio! Arrived four seasons ago; the little mouse's already the leader of his group of mischief makers) were out walking in Mossflower, they came upon a baby hare around the age of Ninnio! We believe vermin killed her parents, poor thing, but we're taking it in. Wouma named it Alelian. What a beautiful name! She is very lively, and plays with her Dibbun pals, though they can't pronouce her name and call her, "Anen'im" instead of "AW - lell - lee - AWN!" Last part nice and long! Don't you pronounce it incorrectly, too! It's "AW - lell - lee AWN!" And if you intend to say it wrong, please don't do it in front of the Dibbuns. Poor Alelian, what if she's known as Anen'im for the rest of her life? And by the way, Wouma believes Alelian will become a strong one. She told me that when Uomba brought the baby to Wouma, the hare was not crying. When she said "strong", I wonder what she meant? A warrior? Heh, got off track again, should be doing that . . . It is wonderful that we have a hare to raise, as Redwall has not had a hare for such a long time. This is bad for the Friar, but Redwall needs Alelian very much! I don't think he's too upset about having a hare loose in the grounds (or anywhere near the kitchens!). But when the little mite, even though she's female, grows up, beware, Grundle! 'Tis sad though, for Alelian believes that Wouma is her true mother! Sigh . . . the complications in life! For example, old age!

Ah, my paw's acting funny again; it's a bad case of rheumatism, my friends! More evidence of my aging as I sit in the kitchens. Yes, even in the spring, I need the warmth of the stoves, but it is still cold in the morning and I have woken early to begin writing in the kitchens while not many beasts are present. To my surprise, Friar and many of his helpers are already here . . .

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"Shoo, shoo, shoo, Brother Bumbilo! You're in the way, your tail is about to add flavoring, not to mention hairs, to the amazing Redwall cake! Sit in the gatehouse, on a bench near the pond, the Cavern Hole, the Great Hall, please, anywhere but here! The feast's backbone is at hand!"

Friar Grundle, the chubbiest mouse in the Abbey wearing a dirty apron over his habit, brushed the squirrel's tail aside, only to find that it sprang back in place. The kitchens were in a state of confusion, merriment, and general chaos. Mice, hedgehogs, moles, otters, and squirrels were running around, rolling cheeses, testing soups, and gathering flagons of the finest wines and juices, baking and flavoring dish after dish. There were candied nuts and miscellaneous jinkers and tinkers sprawled over the messy kitchen floor to add to cakes, tarts, and trifles. Quobby the young mole helper was stirring woodland stew in an enormous pot while his three assistants - Ebbin the squirrel, Dedrop the otter, and Jabbowl the mole - added anonymous herbs into the thick soup, saying things that made Quobby very nervous like, "You're doin' it wrong, Quobby! Friar Grundle will scold you bad for that." and "Oops. Oh, wait, it's ok. Oh wait. Too much. Oops." Meanwhile, creatures were running into and out of the kitchens, contributing greatly to the madness, and Friar handled it all; he was the ruler.

"No, Quobby, you're doing it wrong, stir your ladle in a circle not up and down! Ebbin, that's too much young onion and grinded basil you added there, try to pick some out with that spatula next to you. Ah! Jabbowl! Not the honey! Ooo, Teevo, add more arrowroot flour to that, it's too watery, and remember, no lumps. Add a few dashes of almond paste, greensap milk, and pollen flour, it contributes to flavor and texture. Ah! Cunda, lift the lid of that pot, it's about to fall over. Pour the strawberry cream while it's hot, that's it. Hmm, Piage, while the base bakes, start on the seventh large apple truffle, we need three more. We'll cheat a little bit and add bilberry, no beast will notice. Jabbowl, I don't think Quobby needs your help with those other two squabbling about; start on the cherry turnover, will you? Remember, rosehip syrup after it's completely cooled, no later! Oh, the cherry conserve is - What? Oh, Kozil, are these - ah, damson juice? Hmm, I think that's enough. Get the elderberry wine and strawberry fizz, same number times two, from Muoses in the cellars. If you can manage it, bring the honeydew cordial, will you? Ah, Omekne, you have the cheese, which one is this? Ah, yellow, and I see the almonds, no, not this one, I said the big yellow ones with chestnuts and celery. Go on now. Innip, looks like you're finished? Yes, Foremole Yundo, your deeper'n ever pie, it's in the oven with the Redwall cake, take it out so we can put in Innip's - Augh! Out of the way, out of the way, out of the way, Bumbilo! Your tail!"

Brother Bumbilo sniffed indignantly, gathered his writing utensils, and strode out of the kitchen, saying, "Well, if I'm not welcome - "

"That's much, much better," the Friar said as he watched the Recorder walk pompously through the kitchen door. He peered outside to see the sun shining cheekily at him, and clasped his head in frustration. "Ah, 'twill be five hours a'fore noon. Then after noon, a mere six! Quickly!" He ran around, giving more snappy instructions to his helpers. Only when an otter rolled into the kitchens with a large carp on a trolley did Friar Grundle seem happy. The otter said, "Rockfelan and her buddy Fana caught it this morn, been up since few hours before dawn."

Clapping his hands together delightedly, Friar Grundle cried, "The carp! A big one, two pounds, is it? Delicious!" He poked the fish with his paw. "Plump, too! Ah, nice, nice, I'll need lots of meadow cream . . ." and began pulling out spices, ordering anonymous assistants to get him wines for the flavoring of what he hoped to be a fish masterpiece. Unnoticed in the madness and din, four tiny Dibbuns slipped into the stuffy kitchen: a mouse named Ninnio, a hedgehog named Pickly, a squirrel named Jukun and the orphan hare named Alelian. The mischievous four looked like they were in their idea of paradise. The sweet aromas of baking food went up their tiny noses and their eyes were filled with the subtlest delicacies they had ever seen in their short lifetimes, all oblivious to the furry giants roaming busily above them. As Alelian was the strongest and tallest, Ninnio, his foot paws on the hare's shoulders, pulled impatiently on Alelian's long ears while Pickly climbed upon the mouse's back, flattening both Alelian and Ninnio. Jukun, who was in front of the hare, was pushed forward and all four fell on their noses.

"Cumon', Anen'im! Fasta an' giddies up, missiz hare!" Ninnio complained to the completely crushed Alelian while Jukun tried to rise. Pickly snorted and got up, paws on his hips and peering around like he was in charge of the kitchens. "So dis is da kittens?" He grabbed Alelian's paw, Ninnio's paw, and Jukun's tail, pulling them up and brushing them off hastily. The four look in awe at the sights. Alelian seemed particularly drawn to the candied chestnuts rolling unheeded on the floor. She picked one up and munched on it, her unformed teeth spread into a grin as the sugar was smeared all over her face. She, striking a pose of mock dignity, stroked her chin with her tiny, chubby paw.

In a bright, shrill voice, Alelian said, "Dis is bally dewightnifun, me laddie bucks! Have a chestnut. Tas'e nike, joss bally dewightnifun! An' as my mommy Wouma says, 'Take-a-baff-dewightnifun, wot wot!' Y'tink?" the hare asked, picking up three other nuts from the ground and offering them to her friends. Jukun gave a loud, high-pitched blenching noise. "Baffs stink. Watchoo talkin'ing 'bout, Anen'im. But dese chessnutties are tastiful!" Each Dibbun had another chestnut, commenting that this group of nuts, which Jukun found in the corner behind a spice cabinet, tasted different. The four spent most of their time on the floor, scrambling around for the dirty chestnuts as the paws of many busy helpers kicked and swapped the Dibbun's little treasure around and around, until Ninnio noticed a platter of warm cinnamon scones resting without supervision on the windowsill. He nudged the closest one to him, Pickly, and in result, was pricked. Ninnio yelped in pain and jumped away, loosing his balance and flopping to the kitchen floor on his bottom.

"What, Ninn'o?" Pickly asked, apparently not noticing that his mouse friend was down.

Rubbing his elbow painfully, the mouse pointed to the savory treat. The four licked their lips, eyes gleaming with the prospect of the riches they could have. Jukun whispered, "How we get all 'away over der, Ninn'o? Up too high. We're too nikkal!" The thought hadn't hit Ninnio. But, pretending he had a plan, he gestured over at them to go to the cloth-covered table next to the window. Before any beast could notice them, they had slipped under the table. In the dark, Alelian said, "Now we're here, wot now?" There was a long silence as each little Redwaller thought and thought. In the utter stillness, the four heard the busy kitchen helpers talking.

"Friar Grundle, go take a break, you look exhausted. Me and Teevo will take care of breakfast and lunch, and you can come back after to prepare for the feast."

"Thank you very much, Piage! Whew, all that ordering and baking and preparing! I'll just take a glass of dandelion burdock cup and go outside."

The sound of heavy footsteps grew fainter. There was an extremely long period where the kitchen assistants bustled around, making breakfast. Then Teevo's voice said, "Kitchen assistants! Help me carry the food, come on now." Under the table, Ninnio grinned. "Now is our chance!" When a silence finally settled, the four scuttled out. Jukun balanced on Alelian's shoulders, and their joint effort paid off when Jukun's paws got a firm grip of the side holders. The platter, however, was heavy and the three other Dibbuns had to each take hold of a corner. Together, the four sneaked out of the kitchens, planning all the way. Pickly said, "We got to hide dis somewhere, else Missiz Wouma will give us baffs! How 'bout, er . . ." Jukun cut in. "Shush! Let's find some bushes, hide it in der, 'course - "

She stopped talking. They had reached the southern gate, which was left open by some careless beast. Alelian gave smile that quickly spread to the others' faces.

The four crept into the depths of Mossflower Woods with their supreme prize.

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Abbess Okarina meandered with her friend Hidro around the grounds. For endless seasons, this elegantly ancient Abbey had stood for peace and safety, towering against the beautiful backdrop of the surrounding Mossflower Woods. Protector of the serenity Redwall held, the outer walls, side-by-side with the walltop where, though rarely, sentries would patrol, enclosed the dust red sandstone buildings and their many accompanists: the rows and rows of fresh produce that the diligent Redwallers tended to, the giant pond and its lively inhabitants, and the many other features of this timeless Abbey. Beloved gardens, breathing flowerbeds and the blooming orchid gave birth to various different blossoms, each season showing it's own variety. On the lawn, as if a clumsy one had spilled buckets of dye over the grass, there were numerous designs of colored light, the sun's rays shining through the stained glass, high up on the wall of the Great Hall. The arches, columns, buttresses and battlements made Redwall Abbey an architectural achievement, though most creatures saw Redwall as an amiable sanctuary with famously good food, cheery and benevolent folk, and generally a happy place full of well-being.

"Ah, Hidro, it is odd that, no matter how many times I walk around this Abbey, seeing the same stones in the same walls in the same buildings, feeling the same winds, the same rains, the same sun, part of the same weather in the same neck of the woods, Redwall never fails to amaze me," the Abbess said blissfully. The two had stopped at the pond and sat down on a stone bench. Hidro, ever the liveliest of the elders, picked up a flat stone lying on the edge of the pond and skipped the rock across the water, one, two, three, four hops before it sank.

"Of course. Redwall, besides its other qualities, is the best form of renewed admiration and inspiration," Hidro laughed. He watched as ripples from his rock died away, dispersing into the pond. A tiny grayling looked up to see something large fall into the water. Food! It swam up quickly and tried to eat it, but found it to be hard, and quite inedible. Feeling cheated, the grayling sank back under the depths of the pond. A thought struck Hidro's mind.

"Abbess Okarina, when will you entitle this season? The other seasons, I recall, you have been quicker to think up a name. Has the right name not come to your mind?" The Abbess looked up at the sky and said simply, "When the time is right."

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I'm not done . . . LATER!