Abbess Jem was dancing to the beat of Rogue's small band. She had one of the happiest faces on while she went from dancing with one partner to dancing with another. One moment she was twirling a shrew, the next, she was along side Al, the cellarhog. She was doing several spins when she bumped into her best friend, Chell. Chell, being a hare, was quite an extraordinary dancer, and it became apparent when she accidentally knocked the abbess over.
"Oh! Excuse me!" Chell exclaimed. She assisted the Abbess up just as Rogue and his friends had become too tired to play anymore. Abbess Jem accepted Chell's paw up and decided to sit by the abbey pond. "Whew me. Autumn has barely started and already I can tell it's going to be a happy one," Abbess Jem said.
"Oh trust me. I believe yer absolutely right, marm." Skipper and Burny came to join the Abbess and Chell to the abbey pond. "Oh, Skipper, Burny. How nice of you to join us. This certainly is a pleasant start to autumn now, isn't it?" the Abbess exclaimed. "It sure is, wot," Chell answered. "Not like the last flippin' autumn where it rained, rained, and bally well rained some more."
Skipper replied, "Oh no, marm. Last h'autumn was terrible for the harvest. Too much rain and not enough sun. I'm certainly glad that the festivities of today were held on such a gorgeous day." The four friends sat by the pond and skimmed stones over the clear surface. Each trying to out throw each other turned the simple pleasure into competition.
"Burr oi, oi'm gonna skim yer off'en the face of the h'earth," said Burny after tossing a five jump stone. Skipper snorted, "Oh will ye, now? Just you watch this."
Combining strength and skill, Skipper hurled a stone across the lake. Unfortunatley, it only bounced four times, but each stride was about two or three spears-lengths long and the stone landed on the opposite bank. Skipper and the others stared dumbly at the stone. Suddenly, Burny burst out laughing. "Hurr hurr hurr! Oooh hoo hoo! Oi'm watchen an' oi bain't seein' winnin'. Ha ha haaa. That dun be impressive, though."
The other friends started laughing at Skipper who was still staring at the stone wondering how his lifelong practice of skimming stones could've turned out a little too good. Chell then started patting Skipper's back. "Ah, don't worry 'bout it, ole lad. Nobeast can be perfect at everythin'," she said.
As she patted his back, the paper that Skipper had found stumbled out of his vest pocket and rolled a little bit on the ground. Chell was the first to notice the paper. "'ello, wot's this?" she asked to nobeast in particular. Skipper's hypnotism towards the stone suddenly ceased as the haremaid picked up the crumpled up piece of paper. Skipper then placed his paw on Chell's. "Oh, that's just a piece of rubbish that I found in Burny's gatehouse," Skipper said.
"You'm been taken stuff out o' moi gatehouse widout moi permission?" Burny said strictly. Skipper replied, "You were goin' to throw it away. I figured you didn't need it no more."
Burny tried to think of a counter statement, but turned up empty. Chell was not paying attention to either of the two. She was busy reading the rhyme. "Wot the deuce is this?" she suddenly blurted out. "Is this some sort o' threat? Who wrote this, Burny? Why is it in your gatehouse? What is the 'White one'? I want to know wot's goin' on 'ere. It's bally well rude to keep secrets, you know, wot."
Abbess Jem then took the paper and read it to herself. She too was taken back by the message on it. It was small, yet a little concerning. She had to speak. "This poem sounds so weird when you read it. 'Beware, Redwall, or chance kills'? I don't know why, but that sounds a little ridiculous. Is it some sort of riddle?"
Burny then took the paper, completely forgetting his argument with Skipper. "Hmm. Foind the top two what? This be confusing. 'Kill not the whoite one?' Clouds are whoite, meadow cream be whoite, snow be whoite. This poem 'as too many poserbilities," he complained. Skipper took the paper and read it again. He then said, "It looks like a note of warning, but it has been inside the gatehouse for a while, I figure. Isn't it possible that the potential danger could've passed?" The Abbess was fired up and ready to go. "Well it's a riddle. I love riddles. Why don't we try to see what we can't see. Just the four of us."
The friends agreed and sat down again. Ignoring the merriness going on behind them, they studied the poem. They all tried to make light of the dreadful poem, but deep down, something was telling them that this little poem might be something big. Putting their heads together, they tried to figure out something. Suddenly, Burny stood up. "Oi'll be roight back," he said as he ran towards his gatehouse. The other three stared at each other. "I wonder where he's going," Chell asked. The other two shrugged and went back to studying the poem. Just then, Burny came running back with a piece of paper in one paw.
"Lookit dis," he said. "This wroitin' matches the paw of the one on the poem." Skipper wasn't impressed. "So wot's yer point?" he asked impatiently. Burny explained, "This be the paw of Martin the Warrior." This had caught the attention of all three. Skipper encouraged Burny to continue. "Go on, wot else?" he asked.
Burny straightened his glasses as he explained. "Martin the Warrior was not one to boi a-jokin' 'round. 'E 'as always given us warnings, an' signs, an' clues to keep us out of danger."
"Why can't 'e just tell us wot's goin' to happen rather than giving us ridiculous puzzles?" Chell interupted. That earned her a rap on the paw from Jem.
"As oi were sayin'," Burny continued. "If this were written boi Martin the Warrior, this shud not be ignored."
Skipper just had to cut in. "But Martin the Warrior died a long time ago. I mean many, many, many seasons ago. How could he have written somethin' that long ago that could still apply to today?" he asked.
"A dream?" Jem asked. The other three looked at her, their eyes beckoning for her to tell more. She continued, "We all know Martin's spirit still wanders Redwall and we've had several cases where a chosen creature would actually see Martin himself."
"But how did that note get written in 'is paw?" Skipper interrupted again.
"Well," Jem continued. "There have been times where Martin had taken control of one's body and...made...him...or her...do-" The Abbess slowed down as an answer dawned on her. She looked at Skipper. "You wrote that note!" she exclaimed.
"Wot?!?" Skipper bellowed. "I don' remember writin' no note!" The Abbess was so excited that she didn't realize Skipper's fear. "It had to be you! Martin's messages always appear to his recipient in a flash. You were the one who found the note even when Burny hadn't noticed it!" she exclaimed.
"But how come he hasn't given me any hints as to the meaning of this poem yet?" Skipper asked, finally giving in to the fact that he had been controlled by Martin. Jem thought about the question for a moment, then she found her answer. "It may be because Martin comes into your mind through your dreams. You have to be asleep in order for Martin to bear his presence. So for now, let us go inside. It's almost time for the feast."
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!"
Everybeast looked in the direction of the abbey. Burny then said, "That be Froyer Manny."
Inside the kitchen, there was a mess to behold. Friar Manny, a squirrel with a pretty thin gut for somebody who loves to eat, was kneeling in the middle of the kitchen and weeping like a dibbun. Cellar hog Al was the first to the site. "Great seasons! What's 'appened in 'ere?" Al yelled with a near crack in his voice. Friar Manny sniffled his nose. "It be those cursed dibbuns. They think my kitchen is a play area," he said. His mood suddenly changed to anger as he said, "they'll be glad to know that the feast tonight has been ruined!"
Abbess Jem and the other three then came into the kitchen. "Are you alright Manny?" Jem asked. The friar began weeping again. "The feast is ruined. Cartly and that mole, wotsisname, went through my kitchen like a storm. Days of preparation now gone to a failure." As Friar Manny continued his melodramatic sob story, Jem placed a comforting paw on his shoulder. "There now," she said. "We'll just delay the feast for two days. That's all."
"Delay the feast?" Manny sobbed out. "Won't that make the others mad at me?"
"Oh seasons, no," the Abbess replied. "Any late and unexpected guests can attend our feast, too if we hold it off for a while. Not to mention the other beasts outside are not ceasing activity. The feast would probably gone to waste if you had set it up now."
Manny sniffled. "Really?" he asked. The Abbess winked at him. "Really. Besides, the others will be delighted to know that they get to stop chores in two days for a great feast to a new autumn."
Meanwhile, elsewhere in Mossflower woods. Log-a-Log Moosh was scrambling through the woods looking for survivors of the Guosim tribe. He had only been successful at finding more slain carcasses as he went further away from the attack site. As concern for his tribe grew, he now started forming a deep hatred towards Mallflag. Because of him and his unmerciful ways, his matey was now dead. He swore himself to slay Mallflag and his horde for their murderous performance. He continued going until he found the path. Scrambling to find his crew, he took off south towards Redwall where he assumed that the other Guosim shrews would go. He was half right. He could hear the familiar sounds of disputing and arguing off in the distance. Hurrying off in the direction of the sound, he found five of his tribe bickering as to head off to Redwall or not. Log-a-Log jumped for joy.
"Clarry!" he yelled. The one called Clarry looked back and noticed Log-a-Log Moosh running towards them. "Log-a-Log?" she asked, with a grin slowly forming on her face.
Log-a-Log tilted his head back and yelled, "Logalogalogalogalogalogalogalog!"
Clarry returned the call and ran into Log-a-Log Moosh's arms. "I thought you were slain." She sobbed to him. Log-a-Log had been friends with Clarry just as long as he had known Rinky. He comforted her with a warm hug. "Is this all who survived?" Log-a-Log asked her. Sniffling her nose, she nodded rapidly and continued to spill tears. Log-a-Log examined the remaining tribe. Three little ones, one male two female, a young male with a rapier, and Clarry. He felt a quiet rage fill him as he strengthened his curse on Mallflag. "So this is what you've done," Log-a-Log said to an imaginary Mallflag. "Now I'll make sure that you and your whole horde pay for every single life that you have ruined." Clarry noticed Log-a-Log's change of emotion. "What do we do now?" she asked him. A cold stare left Log-a-Log's eyes as it stared down the path.
"We go to Redwall."
A/N: I am working to improve my accents for various critters.