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Chapter 1. All the World's a Stage..

by Cecil E. Sassafras

Dark clouds drifted lazily across a black, star-filled sky. They hovered above like omnipresent deities watching the world below them move about its business. Floating in their midst, a single, white orb shone brightly, the shadowy billows doing nothing to obscure its vivid light.

It was midnight, the time when everybeast was supposed to be tucked away safely in his bed and traversing the mysterious realm of dreams. But tonight, sleep was literally an impossibility with the joyous rain of cheers and laughter resonating from within the sandstone walls of Redwall Abbey. From the tiniest of youngsters to the grayest of elders, both woodlanders and vermin mingled in tranquility, enjoying the festivities and celebrating the newfound peace between them.

Ripping through the air, a steady cadence filled the ears of all beasts nearby, getting faster and faster with every passing heartbeat.

Strumming the strings of his lute with skill and precision, Cecil Sassafras played an odd tune, one that was slow in some areas and quicker in others, and checked the turnout. A large mass of vermin and woodlanders, too many to count, were gathered around, clapping their paws to the rhythm.

The squirrel smirked and began to sing.

"This is the tale o' my lover,
who was cruel and mean, and made me blue.
This is the tale o' my lover,
and how my heart beat for her so true."

Cecil glanced to his right. Standing a few tail-lengths away from him, his new show partner, Fjord Hollyhocks, was stealing the spotlight. Twirling, spinning, and juggling two flaming batons, the hare danced in time to the rhythm, not missing a beat or waggling an ear off-tempo.

The squirrel continued singing, playing his lute in a faster rhythm. A few of the wandering eyes drifted back towards him.

"Oh, how she wounded me time and again.
I'd bring her some roses;
she'd bring her boyfriends.

"Then there's that summer,
down by the pond.
I saw her there swimming,
sleek like a swan.
But when I approached her
o' long live my woes,
for instead of a kiss,
she smashed in my nose.

"This is the tale o' my lover,
who was cruel and mean, and made me blue.
This is the tale o' my lover,
and how my heart beat for her so true."

"And in autumn I thought:
Ah! Now here's my chance!
But a lady likes jewelry,
and not my trained ants.

"Winter came swiftly,
and I knew then, at last.
This was the moment,
she'd forget 'bout the past.
And hold me in paws,
so tender and warm.
Instead of her claws...
so like sticker thorns.

"This is the tale o' my lover,
who was cruel and mean, and made me blue.
This is the tale o' my lover,
and how my heart beat for her so true."

"Snow began melting
and melt became dew
alas, my dear lover,
'twas spring sprung anew.
And no closer was I
to my fair lady's heart.
So when she came with a knife
I made to depart!

"This was the tale o' my lover,
who repeatedly smashed in my head.
This was the tale o' my lover,
if I wouldn't have left, I'd be dead."

Cecil, finished with his song, tipped his hat, and bowed low, taking in the heartfelt applause and laughter. When it died down and the audience slinked away to other entertainers, the bard slumped down to the earth, gasping as he regained his breath.

He turned to where his partner was extinguishing his batons. "Mighty fine show, must you agree?"

Fjord chuckled and sat down next to the squirrel. "Indeed I must, sah! But where the dash did you come up that song, eh?"

Cecil tapped his forehead. "All up here, my friend. I call it: The Ballad of the Bumbling Buffoon Who Was Told He'd Never Win Anybeast's Heart."

"Bit of a mouthful, that."

"Alajake for short," the squirrel joked.

His hare companion laughed in response. "Quite right, then, Cec! From wot I hear, she was quite the... charming chappess."

"Speaking o' charming chappesses..." Cecil muttered, gazing into the mass of festival-goers. A pretty squirrelmaid strode into his vision, her bushy tail swaying back and forth like a lure, baiting him in. He winked at her. She giggled and shook her head.

Cecil frowned.

"Cec," Fjord warned.

"What, a squirrel isn't allowed to have his fun every now and again?" He winked at another passing squirrel who snorted and stormed away.

"Cecil Sassafras!"

"Relax, Firedancer," the squirrel assured. "I'm not going to try anything. It's a festival. I'm merely observing the entertainment. So long as I don't observe too closely or try to partake in it, she won't notice." Cecil glanced back through the crowd. "Speaking o' Vulpuz himself, there she is."

The dancer glanced up. "She's Vulpuz, all right, here to doom us poor chaps to Hellgates, wot!" Cecil glared at him, and Fjord shrugged. "I just think you have an 'interesting' taste in maidens is all."

The bard stood up and readjusted the buttons on his tunic. He bent over and retrieved his lute, slinging it over his shoulder. "In my dictionary, the term 'interesting' does not exist."

"I rather think you need to revisit your choice of publishers, then, sah." He winked. "'Interesting' isn't always bad." The hare muttered something unintelligible under his breath.

"Yes, well," Cecil replied, "Fjord, tell me: Do you believe in love at first sight?"

"Hah! I love everybeast, Cec. I dare say that's my particular problem. But true love?" He pondered a moment, spinning one of his batons loosely in his right paw. "That, I think, grows on you - like mold on cream. Bit nasty, eh? Starts to infect the whole of you if you aren't rid of it quick as you like, wot! Still... leave it long enough and you'll have some fine cheese in due course. Have to suffer the smell awhile, though." The hare laughed.

The squirrel, completely oblivious to what his companion had said, nodded, his mouth twisted into an awkward smile. "Yes. Yep. Uh-huh. Sure, why not?"

"Are you even listening?"

Cecil shook his head.

"Oh, hop along, then, you cad." Fjord snorted. "And be quick about it. Looks like you just might have a bit of competition, eh?" The hare pointed to a young, smartly-dressed stoat holding the squirrelmaid's paw and introducing himself.

The bard's brow furrowed. He bit his lip and began stomping towards her. "I finally won her over, and I am not losing her to a beast who isn't even her species! I've lost maids to weasels before. Not letting that happen again!"

"Just remember to be smooth, wot!" his companion called after him.

Cecil spun fashionably on his heel. "Come now, my friend, when am I not smooth?"

Fjord's face turned into a picture of horror. "Cec! Cec! Don't make any sudden moves."

"What?" the squirrel exclaimed. "Why? I don't have something on me, do I? Do I?" He spun around, looking over his shoulder for anything that wasn't supposed to be there.

"Do squirrels have tails?" his friend demanded by way of reply."It's a great big... thingummy. Dozens, hundreds, thousands of legs by the look of it, wot! And... and Fates! It's crawling on your noggin as we speak!"

Cecil's face twisted in agony. In a fit of panic, the squirrel yelped and frantically raked his claws across the top of his head, knocking his hat to the ground as he tried to get at the hideous insect.

"Hmm... smooth as a hedgehog's back."

"Huh?" the squirrel rasped, his headfur in a complete mess. "So, there wasn't a bug?"

"Oh, no, there was a bug, all right. An evil little mite. Looked like he was going to spear your skull with that stinger of his, wot. If I hadn't said something, you might've been died and missed an opportunity with your lady fair." Cecil gulped. His companion gestured to his fallen hat. "Just be sure to check that hat of yours before you put it back on your head, sah. It could be hiding in there, for all you know, ready to strike you down and take you to Dark Forest."

Cecil shuddered.

"Now go," Fjord instructed, waving the squirrel away. "There could be more of the buggers about. One might even be on... her. You should make a thorough investigation, wot!" The dancer nodded. "Leave no fur unturned, sah!"

Tentatively grabbing up his cap, the squirrel scampered towards the maiden to save her from the deadly, non-existent insects. Fjord chuckled.

-.0.-

"Oh, Mr. Sassafras, you certainly are a charmer," Abbess Dittany commented as the squirrel, gripping her paw loosely, led her down Redwall's torch-lit corridors.

Cecil chuckled and twisted around on his heel. He met her pretty auburn eyes and grinned. "Well, my sweet, I certainly try." The squirrel bowed low chivalrously, the overly-large feather in his cap dipping down well below his eyes and blocking his vision. Dittany giggled.

Before turning the corner, the bard glanced around it cautiously, checking to see if anybeast was coming. Seeing nobeast, the squirrel quickly ushered the Abbess across the corridor intersection, running along by her side.

"Do we really need t' do this t'night?" Dittany asked, leaning her head on Cecil's shoulder as they paced down the hall. "There are plen'y of beasts outside, one's bound t' notice I'm missin'."

Nervous, are we? Cecil turned and pecked her lightly on the cheek. "Do not fret, my love. There is plenty o' entertainment and food outside for the festival that will surely distract them. Nobeast shall know that a mere musician like me and a beauty, such as yourself, have disappeared for the evening to go someplace quieter."

Dittany stopped. "Cecil, I'm Abbess. I'm not allowed. We… really shouldn't be doin' this. It's just… it's just that I shouldn't be affiliatin' with you like this. If they ever find out, I'll be forced t' resign, and you're like as not t' be banished. Sure, we haven't gotten caught yet… but… if we do… It's risky, Cecil, and I don't want t' lose you."

Cecil chuckled. Time to reel her in how Fjord told me. "And where's the fun without a bit o' risk, eh?"

Without bothering to check if anybeast was coming, Cecil leaned forward and pressed his lips against hers.

She pulled away, cautiously glancing down the corridors. "Cecil, we can't. Not here, not now." She looked down at her footpaws. "But…"

And to snap the trap "But?"

"But I want to."

Cecil's eyes enlarged to a frightening degree. Sure, Fjord had helped him woo the Abbess, but he certainly didn't think the firedancer's tips would work that well. The bard moved in and held her close. "Do not worry, my love. Nobeast shall ever know."

"Mr. Sassafras?"

"Hmm?"

Dittany closed her eyes and pulled him closer. "You smell nice."

"Thank you, I've been bathing quite a lot recently."

She shook her head. "No, you smell nice."

"Hmm, it must be the 'fur treatment' that nice rat sold to me. He informed me that its scent would enchant any fair maiden. Nice, reasonable chap. Called it Eau de Toilette. Sounds fancy, must you agree?"

The Abbess laughed. "Mr. Sassafras," she whispered, "I love you."

Cecil's eyes widened further. Then, he smiled.

Fates bless you, Fjord.

-.0.-

Resting his head on an over-stuffed pillow, Cecil breathed out a sigh of exasperation, speaking in short, raspy puffs. "That was wonderful," he said. The squirrel next to him, breathing just as heavily, nodded, her fur standing up in odd places.

"Cecil, we really shouldn't be doin' this," she said. "It isn't right."

The bard rolled over and met her eyes. "But why? We haven't been caught yet, and Fjord… Fjord would be so disappointed. He's wanted us together ever since I mentioned the idea to him. He's the one who made this all possible."

"I could tell you some things about Mr. Hollyhocks, Cecil. For one, it scares me t' no end when you're talkin' t' him, because it makes me think you're goin' t' make th' same mistakes he's made. I'm scared he'll tempt you away from me with another maid," the Abbess said.

Cecil pulled her closer and kissed her lightly. "Fjord isn't like that, Dittany, I swear. Just tonight, he warned me not to get any ideas with all the beasts around." He wrapped his arms around her. "Besides, you're the only lass who's ever loved me. Why would I want to leave you? You're the only fair maiden that I shall ever love. I shall not stray or wander. I promise you this."

She sighed, tears beginning to spill down her cheeks. "I know, Cecil. I'm just scared is all."

"You don't have to be scared. Nobeast will ever find out about us."

"Yes, they will."

"Why?" Cecil asked. "Surely you haven't told anyone."

"Of course not!" Dittany assured. "But… I need t' tell you somethin'."

"What?" he inquired.

Dittany pulled closer to him and rested her head on his chest. She lifted her gaze and looked him in the eyes. "I'm… expectin'."

"Expecting who? There's not somebeast else is there?" Cecil exclaimed in fright.

"No, I mean… I'm expectin'."

"Expecting who?"

"A kit."

Cecil was quiet.

"Your kit."

"W-w-what?" Cecil stuttered, his face a picture of pure shock. "Y-y-you're preg–"

A knocking on the frame of the door followed by the jiggling of the door handle interrupted the squirrel. A booming voice sounded from outside. "Mother Abbess, are ye in there? Why's the door locked?"

Both squirrels immediately rose up and turned to the door. "Skipper," they said in unison.

Dittany grasped her lover's shoulders, stopping him from doing anything rash, and whispered into his ear. "Mr. Sassafras, under th' bed. Now."

Cecil obeyed, hopping out from the under the blankets and quickly picking up his clothes from where they lay on the floor. He dove under the bed's base, praying to the Fates that he wasn't caught.

"One moment, Skipper," the Abbess called. Cecil couldn't help but watch as she rummaged through her wardrobe and produced a nightgown. She quickly threw it over her head and stuck her arms through the sleeves.

A click greeted Cecil's ears as she unlocked the door and slid it open. "Skipper," he heard her say.

"Mother Abbess. Why was yer door locked?"

"Forgive me, Skipper. I felt rather weary, and so I retired for th' evening. I didn't want anybeast t' disturb me."

Cecil looked around him from where he was positioned. One of his things wasn't with him. He had forgotten something. The squirrel spied his mistake. His lute sat resting in the room's corner, in plain sight of Skipper.

The bard gulped and struggled not to breathe.

"I'm sorry, Abbess Dittany, but this is rather urgent."

He heard her sigh. "What is it?"

"We received this from Salamandastron. I felt that we should deliver it t' ye 'fore we gave it t' its rightful owner."

Silence. Then, the rustle of paper. "Yes. Thank you, Skipper. I'll see t' its delivery immediately."

Cecil saw the otter's footpaws begin to move. Then, they stopped. "Mother Abbess, if I'm allowed t' ask: What's Mr. Sassafras' lute doin' in here?"

Cecil tried not to curse.

"He gave it t' me as a gift, Skipper."

"Well, jist be sure ye don't let 'im get any ideas. Even a newcomer like 'imself should know that'cher off limits. I've seen 'im watchin' ye. I c'n tell that look in 'is eyes anywhere. Just don't let 'im get any ideas."

"Of course, Skipper," she replied. "If you'll give me one moment t' get dressed in somethin' proper, I'll go deliver this letter."

"Aye. Thank ye." Skipper's footpaws turned and continued on their way without pause.

Dittany closed the door. "Cecil," she whispered.

Cecil crawled out from under the bed, gasping as he regained his breath. He saw a letter in her paw. "Th-that was close."

Retrieving her habit from where it lay on the floor, she chuckled. "I think I owe you a new lute."