Forty-two views, and absolutely no reviews. Hamlet of Redwall said he would not be able to review anything for a while, so he has an excuse.
As for this chapter, I am aware that some readers may think my writing a little rushed, there is a reason for it, though. Also, I am terrible with food lists, hence there is none here, though technically there should be one, as it is a meal time scene. Finally, sorry to those who read my consistent misspelling of Zerrubbabel's nickname. It has been fixed.
For Follower W, sorry if you are getting a lot of alerts to updates on this story, and then only getting one new chapter. When I add a chapter, I also go back and adjust past chapters.
Disclaimer: Go back to 1.
3
The commotion was just as bad, if not worse, in the kitchen.
"We need more wine!"
"I put some on the window ledge!"
"There's none, now!
"Well, it was there a minute ago!"
"Hey! Who done bled in the sea?!"
"I think I know what happened to it!"
"So now what?!"
"I don't know; ask Legrand!"
"Beasts and their bleedin. 'Ot to be more careful."
"Tredge, did you'm get moi Deeper 'n Ever poi out of 'ee oaven?!"
"Pie?"
"Oh bardbeast, yas, poi!"
"What's tha smell?"
"Fire!"
"Fire! Fire!"
"WHAT!"
"Fire!"
"Get some water!"
There was a loud hissing sound as Eshton put out his 'poi', which had been left in the oven a bit to long. Needless to say, Tredge was sent from the kitchen. That didn't solve all the problems, but it did prevent any more from occurring.
It was difficult to ever gain order in the kitchen. It was somewhat considered a way of discipline, so there were usually different beasts working there every day. The only constant help on hand was Eshton, Tredge the vole, an otter called Gotle, and the head cook, a pine marten called Ashleg.
Tredge only came back every day because kitchen duty was a punishment, and he kept getting into trouble. He was a very forgetful beast; many times, when he was told to do something, he would forget about it, and whatever it was that was to be done would not get done until the time of its need was past. As he always expected to be on kitchen duty, Tredge took to wearing an apron and leggings.
Gotle was a more sensible beast, and had been in charge of the kitchen until Ashleg had joined. He was tall, like most otters, and wore a multi colored kilt and tunic, so as to hide the stains he gained from helping with the deserts and hotroot. A merry fellow, he always tried to make the best of things, though even he found his patience taxed this morning.
Ashleg, a rather grumpy but agreeable pine marten, was one of the few vermin of the navy that had not changed his name after joining. He was named so for his wooden leg, which went along with the rest of his many scars. The Goodbeasts had found him in Mechin, and he had climbed aboard readily, as it was the only place he had ever been to where creatures didn't constantly remind him of his species. He was also good friends with Thomas, and together they had created quite a few useful, albeit unusual things for the fleet.
The grotesque looking marten also had good presence of mind, something that was required at this moment. "Right then, get tha' pie out of tha' oven Eshton, there's no time ta make another, so well 'ave to make do. You, you're not doing anathin at the moment, 'elp Gotle with the pastries. You there, take those greens and rinse them en tha water troth. Eshton, see if there's anathin still etable en tha center of tha' pie. Hey, weasel, get your paws out of tha' cupboard, ain't nothing en there but sugar. You can be better use o'er 'ere at the couner, with this knife and these leeks. Now don't bawl 'bout it, you'll be bawling enough by the time your through. Don't know why leeks ain't called by some kind o' onion name. Good work, Eshton, we can make a Lasmisoup with tha."
Things slowly got into order now that Tredge was gone, and soon Ashleg had them all in line with the dishes, ready to march into the dining hall and present them to the G.B. crew.
Slowly some of the noise died down as a few creatures found seats. Opt pointed Crakenough over to a row of boards and pegs sticking out of the wall, with birds of all kinds lining the pegs. Crakenough thanked him, and was about to wing over when Opt gestured for him to lean close. "Don't tell Derf anything about the song you heard earlier, understood?" he whispered.
Crakenough thought that this was a strange request, but he complied with a nod, and soon he had flown over the many creatures assembled, and perched on a vacant peg opposite an owl, a robin and some bird he had never seen before. He wished them good morning.
The responses he got were unexpected.
"Bonjour."
"Greetings to thee, dear gentlebeast."
"Hi." the creatures each said in turn.
It was the robin, who had spoken second, who continued on. His voice was smooth, and pleasant to listen to. "This upon mine right would be Jesher, whom did greet thee in such manner as to impress upon you the awareness of the extensive vocabulary of his native country of which he has an abundance of knowledge."
He then turned to the strange bird on his left, but before he could start a description, the bird interjected, "What he just said was that the owl's name is Jesher, and that he was showing off to you." the strange bird's voice was gruff, and contrasted sharply to that of the previous speaker. "I don't want him confusing you with an account of me, so I'll introduce myself." He punctuated this remark with a stern look to the robin, who quieted.
Crakenough studied the strange bird with interest. He was gray, with white markings around his black beak, and a black patch over the top of his head. His belly was yellow, and in seeing this Crakenough also noticed a leather strap hanging from the bird's shoulder.
"As I was saying," the bird continued, "My name is Derf, Head Bird of the G.B., and my talkative friend here is Kiriath-jearim, the most un-understandable creature in the fleet, in my opinion. You're new here, as I haven't seen you before. Welcome to the Goodbeast Navy. When did you arrive?"
This was hardly a question Crakenough was expecting, but then again that summed up almost everything he had seen so far today, so he answered, "A little before first light, sir. But why?"
Derf looked around, and then leaned forward eagerly, and whispered, "Did you happen to hear that song they play every morning?"
Crakenough quickly realized what was going on. "You don't get up very early, do you?" he asked in a stern manner.
Derf started, then slumped on his perch. "Bother." was all he said, so Crakenough turned to the other two. "My name is Crakenough of Mechin," he said. "and I will be traveling with you until we reach there."
"You know," Jesher spoke up with a peculiar accent, "you can actually get there faster by flying . . ."
"No doubt he could." interrupted Derf, "But he probably thought we were queer looking, and therefore decided to reside with us until his curiosity was satisfied. It's not like it would be the first time that happened. Now please, be quiet."
Crakenough couldn't help wonder if Derf was always this rude, and he began to wish he had chosen a different perch. In fact, he was considering going off to find one, when he heard Opt's voice shout, "Right, mates, what will it be today!?"
Instantly everyone found seats, and when things had quieted down a bit, Faith took up her flute, the frog took up his violin, and a huge weasel waddled over to some upturned buckets of all sizes, and sat down.
He then commenced to beat upon them in rapid succession, while Faith and the frog began playing a fast tune in time to the thumping.
Opt stood up from his seat, and as the music reached the end of line, began the song:
What'll it be, mates, what'll it be?
What is it you'll have today?
Hotroot soup, or cool mint tea?
What'll it be, mates, what'll it be?
With that, he sat down, and one by one the different crew members stood up and stated their meal desires in tune to the music, till every member had done so, finishing with the rat that Crakenough had seen playing the lute earlier.
When the song was finally over, everyone looked toward one side of the dining hall intently. Following their gazes, Crakenough beheld two large wooden doors with little holes at the top. Even as he watched, the doors opened.
Several creatures began to march forth in single file, each one carrying a dish for the meal. Crakenough had seen foods from all over the world come in to Mechin, but there was still one dish he could not identify. This dish looked like some sort of soup, except that there seemed to be a little bit of everything in it.
Soon all the tables had been laden with various foods, and the creatures still carrying delicacies began to move down stairs. More creatures now emerged from the large doorway and began serving the food to the various creatures. A bird of Derf's species flew over with a small bowl, and placed it on their table before he flew off to get another one. Jesher, having the greatest height, leaned over and peered into the bowl. Straitening up, he remarked "It's yours, Kiri."
The robin thanked him, and then pulled the bowl closer and began to eat the acorns inside. It wasn't long before the serving bird came back, and soon all of them were eating. Derf had a bowl of hotroot soup, and Jesher was enjoying some special biscuits. Crakenough had ended up with some of the strange soup. As he was trying to figure out what it was, he heard Opt call him over to the Captains Table.
A rather short chapter, but that's because it was originally an extra large chapter, and so I thought I would split it. Please review, as I know I am doing something wrong, but can't figure out what (I just know because I'll always be doing something beyond my own level of understanding).
Someone out there may be looking at the update date on the story heading and wonder why I'm taking so long. Well, in the next chapter Crakenough is supposed to ask some questions of the captains, and I'm having trouble deciding what questions he should ask. So if anyone has any ideas, it would really help if they please let me know.
Good morning! 7/18/2013