Chapter 3

…

The door slammed shut. Kyrin sat in the Gatehouse. Brother Gordale, the Abbey Gatekeeper, had been gracious enough to let Tam use it. Actually, the kindly mouse had let Tam borrow it scores of times in the past seasons more or less for one reason only: to scold Kyrin. All Tam had to do now was show up, knock, gesture towards his son, and take control of the Gatehouse. It was almost…routine.

Father and son sat facing each other, a table between them. Daylight poured through the windows, making Kyrin want to leave all the more. However, a stern throat-clearing from Tam put the little squirrel in his place and made him pay full attention to his father.

"I'm not going t'ask you what you have t'say for yourself this time, Kyrin. Bottom line: What you did today was unacceptable."

Kyrin said nothing.

"At this point, I only have one question: why? Why do you have to do this all the time? As the son of a Warrior, you should know better."

Kyrin felt bad for his father. "You're goin' t'have to apologize to him for me again, huh?" he asked, his ears drooped.

Tam shook his head. "I'll get to that in a bit. But what I want to know is why you don't wish to obey your own father and change your ways. You're clearly athletic and tricky enough to outsmart everybeast I know. So, why don't you use your talents for good, son? A squirrel of ten seasons like yourself should already be well on his way to becoming a Warrior. So why don't you want to be a Warrior?"

"But dad!" Kyrin protested. "It's no fun! Day in, day out, it's 'do this, do that.' We've talked about this! I'd rather be left alone t'do what I want."

Tam sighed, recounting his own childhood. "Y'know, I used t'say that. Only difference is I learned to obey. Why can't you? Everybeast in th'Abbey thinks you're a spoiled brat and a thief. Your mother and I always have t'cover for you, apologizin' for all your pranks and misdeeds. You do realize that you dropping a pie on Abbot Cyrus' head makes me look bad, not you."

Kyrin paused. He honestly hadn't thought of that, as clever as he was. He averted his father's stare.

"Son, look at me."

Kyrin grudgingly looked up as Tam leaned forward, looking straight into his son's eyes as he spoke.

"Nobeast is born a Warrior, Kyrin. It is a long path which requires commitment and focus. It's one thing to know how to take somebeast's head off with a sword…"

Kyrin stifled a giggle.

"…But it's also very important to understand th – son, stop playin' with that quill, thank you – that being a Warrior requires you to have a sense of duty and loyalty to those you love and protect. The first lesson of a Warrior is to be good to others. It's one thing t'know how to fight, but it makes all the difference for somebeast to learn how to care."

There was a short pause. Kyrin thought for a little bit, then replied, "Well, Melanda seems to be doin' fine. Train her instead. Dad, I'm just not the type. You may as well give up on me."

"No, son," Tam shot back. "You know where you come up short. There is a Warrior in you somewhere. Search yourself. When you have a sense of duty, maybe you'll understand."

There was another silence. Sighing heavily, Tam stood up. "Well, I'm not going to wait for you to think it through. But that doesn't mean I'm going t'let you off easy, either."

Kyrin slumped in his chair, dejected, as he saw his father getting ink and parchment off a shelf.

"You are t'write a full apology to Abbot Cyrus. After that, you will write apologies to Friar Tobel and Foremole Rull. I want at least three pages of well thought-out writing. If you write big, I will make you start over. Do I make m'self clear, Kyrin?"

Kyrin nodded.

"And don't try anythin' stupid. You are not to leave this Gatehouse unless I tell you to. I'll be standin' watch outside…" Sure you will, Kyrin thought. Tam had threatened him like that in the past, but Kyrin knew it was just a ploy.

"I'll leave you t'your own devices now," Tam said as he opened the door to leave. "Think deeply about what I said."

"Dad…" Kyrin started.

Tam turned around.

"What about the Feast?"

Tam fixed his son with a stern stare. "What about the Feast?"

Kyrin sighed, leaning his head back and looking out the window as he got the message. Looks like somebeast was going to go hungry tonight.

The door slammed shut.

…

For a restless young squirrel, Kyrin had written quite a lot in the first half hour alone in the Gatehouse. He was just about to start on the second page of his first apology letter when he heard taunting voices outside the Gatehouse door.

"Heeheehee! Kyrin's in trouble! Kyrin's in trouble!"

"Oh, knock it off, Celany!" Kyrin shouted.

Celany, a spunky mousemaid just about Kyrin's age shot back in a singsong voice: "Ha! I heard you're missin' the Feast! Your da' was just talkin' t'the Abbot!"

Kyrin winced as he heard these words. A gruff young mole voice joined in from the other side of the door.

"Hurr, they'm be a-makin' lots of gudd food out thurr, Kyrin. Oi be smellin' Deeper n' Ever Pie, zoop, candied chesknutters…too bad ee bain't goin' t'be around t'scoff et at all!"

"Just shut it, Buwl!" Kyrin shouted. "Go an' boil your fat head!"

There were triumphant giggles as Kyrin heard the receding pawsteps of his torturers. He heard Celany's voice one last time:

"Maybe if you be a nice little squirrel me and Buwl'll save you a pie crust, hahahaha!"

And then they were gone. Kyrin buried his face in his paws, utterly frustrated. Stupid Celany, stupid Buwl. Anyway, everybeast knows it's "Buwl and I," not "me and Buwl!"…oh, what does it matter? Nobeast liked the young squirrel. Seasons of roguish pranks and tricks had labeled Kyrin as, to quote his father, a spoiled brat in the eyes of fellow Redwallers. But why? Why this? Kyrin meant no harm. He cared for others, he really did! It was just…his nature that drove him to do this. Maybe his father was right…maybe he did need to gain a sense of duty…

Still sulking, Kyrin redoubled his efforts to finish the apology letters.

…

"Kyrin?"

"Oh, hi, dad," Kyrin replied, looking up. For once, he had been so focused in his writing that he didn't even notice Tam opening the door.

Tam nodded in approval as he looked over Kyrin's letters. "First thing tomorrow morning, you'll give these out. Now, d'you want something t'drink?"

Kyrin nodded gratefully.

"There's some barley water out in the Great Hall. Can I trust you t' get a drink an' come right back an' finish up those letters?"

Kyrin looked at his father. "Yes."

Tam ruffled his son's head. "Good squirrel. See? You can become a Warrior after all. Now, I'm going to be at the Abbey Pond, helpin' Friar Tobel, Skipper, and Galwa get that large fish for supper tonight! Ha, everybeast in the Abbey has put down their work to cheer 'em on. Well, I have to go. Remember, son, search yourself."

As Tam broke into a sprint across the Abbey lawns, Kyrin walked from the Gatehouse towards the Great Hall. Suddenly, a pebble flew at him from his right and hit the little squirrel in the shoulder. Kyrin looked over just in time to see Buwl's velvety head duck down behind a patch of bushes. "I know you're there, Buwl! You and Celany both!"

He was answered by a shower of very accurately-thrown pebbles. In a rage, Kyrin hurled a couple of the pebbles back, but since he was so angry, all of his shots went wide. Celany popped out from behind the bushes and blew an obnoxious raspberry at him. "Heeheehee! Warrior's son! Can't even throw straight!" Giggling, she and Buwl were off.

Kyrin's face grew hot as his paws clenched. That was it. He was not going to take this. Stony-faced, he marched to the Abbey toolshed. It was unguarded. Kyrin threw the door open and selected an array of tools. Then, silently, he stole across the Abbey to the Great Hall, where he entered the Kitchens, which were also unguarded, snatching ground pepper, salt, and other items. There was work to be done.

…

Sister Armel was on the bank of the Abbey Pond, surrounded by a score of Dibbuns, as she shouted jubilantly: "Come on, Tobel! You can do this! Get that grayling!"

The Dibbuns cheered in kind.

"Get tha' graylin', Skip!"

"Hurr, ee show 'im, Frurr Tob'!"

"Punch th' daylights outta dat fish, Galwa!"

Friar Tobel sat in a precarious position in his tipping rowboat in the center of the pond, holding onto a flimsy fishing rod, which was being dragged under by a colossal grayling, onto which in turn Skipper and his trusted right-paw otter Galwa were hanging, clubbing it repeatedly with their fists. The grayling bucked and submerged itself again and again, shaking the boat up and down. Friar Tobel looked as if he was going to throw up.

Armel's best friend, Brookflow the ottermaid, or Brooky, as she was called, also shouted out encouragement, but she did so much, much louder: "Whooo! C'mon, Uncle Skip! Kill that fish! Hahaha!"

Tam sidled up to Armel, slipping his paws around his mate's waist. "Hey, how're they doing?"

The pretty Infirmary Sister turned around briskly, her dark brown eyes glimmering with excitement. "Oh, Tam! What a surprise! Are you here to help them?"

Tam chuckled as he saw the spectacle in the pond. "Ha, looks like they could use some help."

The Redwallers cheered as Tam waded into the water. "Be careful!" Armel shouted after him, as Tam reached the middle of the Pond and attacked the grayling, punching it straight in the eye. The grayling bucked with pain and lunged towards him, but the Warrior squirrel was ready. He caught the grayling by its jaws, struggling to hold them put as Skipper and Galwa continued bashing at its scaly body. Tam got a couple good blows in as well. At that moment Tobel's line snapped, sending the surprised vole rolling backwards, out of the boat, into the water.

"Tam!" Skipper shouted, "I'll get Tobel! You an' Galwa lay it on 'im!"

As Skipper dived to save the sputtering chef, Tam forced the creature's jaws shut as he drew his dirk which he always carried, stabbing at the fish's tough, scaly armor as Galwa punched it in its other eye. Finally, the behemoth gave up and floated to the surface, exhausted.

"Quick, get it on land!" It took Tam, Skipper, and Galwa to successfully lift the giant out of the water. There, half a score of Redwallers helped in pulling the beast to shore. Friar Tobel heaved himself up on the bank, soaked from head to tail, where he cleared his throat and squeaked above the rest: "Friends, dinner is served!"

An enormous cheer went up as the Redwallers rejoiced.

…

Later that evening, as the sun was going down, Tam had just finished checking on Kyrin when a feathery blur hit him head on, knocking him to the ground.

"Gahh! Tergen! You old bird! How're you doin'?"

The fearsome goshawk, still perched on Tam's chest, threw back his head and laughed. "Kreehaaaaa! Good to see you, friend Tam!"

Tam struggled up, chuckling and nursing a sore chest at the same time. "It's nice t' see you too, mate. But I thought you were back at Salamandastron…"

The Warrior turned around to see three hares standing behind him. "Wha…Ferdimond de Mayne! Ha! You old longears! How'd you even get in?"

The powerful hare, clothed elegantly in a Long Patrol uniform, stepped forward to receive the embrace. "That's Captain Ferdimond t'you, old lad! An' you really need to learn how t' lock those bally gates! We sauntered in like frogs in springtime, doncha know! How's ol' wotisname…Doogy…doin', eh?"

"Doin' great!" Tam grinned. "Why're you so far from Salamandastron?"

Ferdimond shrugged his well-built shoulders. "Got news for your Abbot, I'm afraid. Is old Abbot Humble still around?"

"No," Tam replied. "He's passed on. Abbot Cyrus has taken his place."

Ferdimond nodded. "Right then! Show us the way, smartlike! Eh, wot?"

As Tam led the four towards the main building, the two other hares, one old and one young, caught up with him.

"Thornberry Chambelieu McWarthorn," the younger of the two said, clasping Tam's paw enthusiastically. "You can call me Thorn, or Private Thorn, if y' want! Always wanted to meet th' Warrior of Redwall!"

The older hare, who had a thick mustache, showed up on Tam's other side. "Colonel Buckshaw Binghamton Liberforth. Cousin of the late Crumshaw. You remember the old rascal, don't you, old lad?"

"Kraaa! Brigadier Wotwot!" Tergen added.

Tam grinned. "Welcome, all, to Redwall Abbey!"

…

After introductions had been made, Abbot Cyrus, Tam, Armel, Doogy, Skipper, the hares, and Tergen, sat alone in the Abbot's private study.

"Tell Lady Melesme I send my best regards," Cyrus said graciously to the hares. "Now, what is the urgent news which you wish to tell me?"

Colonel Buckshaw leaned forward in his chair, setting down a crude map of the region. "Our scouts have been getting report of one Orak the Assassin in th' north. Rumor has it he's one of those rascals from Gulo the Savage's horde. Anyway, he's amassin' a flippin' army in hopes of conquering the entire Northlands!"

"So are you saying that Redwall may or may not be in danger?" Tam asked, exchanging a glance with Doogy and Armel.

Buckshaw shrugged. "Don't know if he wants t' go that far south, old lad, but for somebeast as bloodthirsty as he is, it's bally well plausible, wot!"

"We've got soldiers stationed all over the northern Mossflower border. Badger Lady's orders, y'see," Thorn added.

"Oh, and you needn't worry, Abbot," Ferdimond said reassuringly, "we've already got a network of hares in Mossflower Wood, ready to fight at a moment's notice. No vermin's going to come south while we're on duty, wot!"

Abbot Cyrus immediately respected the professionalism of the hares. "Thank you, all of you," he said, bowing low. "Redwall will be forever in your debt. But for now, come down and take a seat with us at our Spring Feast!"

The hares were the first ones out the door, closely followed by Wild Doogy Plumm.

"Och, finally!"

"Splendid! I'm flippin' famished!"

"You're always famished but I know what you mean, wot wot!"

Everybeast laughed, but inwardly they all knew that the Long Patrol hares could be busy overstuffing themselves one moment and fighting to the death the next. They had all witnessed it.

…

The Great Hall was abuzz with laughter and conversation as Cyrus finally made his way in through the main entrance. On seeing their Abbot, everybeast fell silent and stood up.

Abbot Cyrus made his way to his seat in the center of the Abbey elders. He cleared his throat and announced in a loud voice:

"Friends! Old ones and young ones all! Thank you all very much for preparing this feast! I have seen your efforts and can wholeheartedly assure each and every one of you that every moment of your work will go into making tonight one of the most memorable nights of our lives! Now, a thank you to Friar Tobel and all his helpers for preparing this wonderful meal…"

"Where's Kyrin?" Armel whispered to her mate as Cyrus went on. "Did he get in trouble again?" Tam nodded solemnly.

"...And I would like to welcome our guests from Salamandastron. Will they please stand!"

The hares stood and Tergen did an loop-de-loop in the air to rounds of jubilant applause.

After a while, Abbot Cyrus held up his paws for quiet. "Now, the grace!"

Everybeast bowed their heads as their Abbot recited:

"Grace to our home, Redwall,

May peace and plenty bless us all,

May we be safe day and night,

From hunger, sickness, war and strife,

And now as we begin the Feast,

Let us enjoy ourselves and eat!"

There was a sound "AMEN" as the celebrating Redwallers sat down and dug in. More than half the little ones who were old enough to walk, ran outside to participate in the Abbey Games. "Let the feasting begin!" Cyrus cheered.

Meanwhile, in the Gatehouse, Kyrin chuckled to himself as he put the final touches on his last apology letter and leaned back in his chair.

Let the screaming begin.

…

Euuuulaliaaaaaa! Chapter 4 will be up later this week! Hope you're all enjoying the story so far! Until next time! ~The Ghost Writer