Disclaimer: I do not own Redwall
A/N: This story was originally written for and posted on my Tumblr blog, RedwallThoughts. The italics are taken from the first post I made musing about what might have happened if things had turned out differently in Taggerung. The non-italics are the story that I developed afterward.
Imagine if, some seasons later, the clan finds a dibbun who snuck away from the abbey and got lost. They're used to Tagg's leadership by now, so rather than kidnap the poor kid they return the dibbun to Redwall.
Pt. 1
Autumn chill was in the air. The clan's makeshift garden had produced well. Baskets full of drying berries lined the back walls of the cave. Various fruits and vegetables hung from the ceiling in braids. The Juskarath had never known such a season of plenty.
Nimbalo and Felch became Tagg's constant companions whenever he left to fish or forage. The three of them had come to greatly enjoy each other's company, and they would often while away the day conversing or singing with one another as they journeyed. It was on one such journey that they heard the cries.
"'Elp oi!" came the terrified scream.
There was no stopping to discuss what was to be done. Tagg darted ahead, assessing the situation with Felch and Nimbalo close behind. They found a young mole, up to his waist in swamp muck and sinking fast.
Thinking quickly, Tagg took a sturdy vine and wrapped it around his middle, calling out for the little mole to lay spread-eagle on the water to keep from sinking further. Within moments, Tagg had plunged into the murky water and began making his way toward the little mole. With much pulling and straining from Nimbalo and Felch on the other end of the vine, Tagg and the little mole soon arrived at the edge of the swamp. The little mole was overjoyed to be back on dry ground and told them so.
"Thankee koidly, zurs, fer savin' oi."
Tagg was more interested in learning where the little mole had come from and what he was called.
"Moi name be's Durby," he told them. "Oi comes from Redwall h'Abbey."
Tagg had heard of the place before, but knew that it was a good distance south.
"What are you doing so far from home?" he asked.
"Oi got losted," was the reply.
Unwilling to leave Durby to wander home on his own, but also knowing that surely there were others at the abbey wondering where the little mole had gone, Tagg made his decision.
"We'll take him home."
The Juskarath had already gathered the majority of the their crops, surely they could disguise the caves for a while to take young Durby home. The clanbeasts were reluctant when told the plan. They did not want to leave this place of plenty. But Tagg insisted. Eventually, they went.
Throughout the journey, Durby told them of his home and the Juskarath in turn told him of theirs. Tagg watched the tattooed vermin smiling and laughing with the little mole, and felt a sense of pride rising in him. This was his clan. Not the uncouth, sniveling creatures who had lived fearfully under Sawney's rule, but these creatures they had blossomed into. This was the clan he belonged to.
