Stiles laid down his quill as he again checked his notes. A few more strokes and he gave Badgermom Tassel his undivided attention.
"My little sister was one of those squirrels you spotted before they could steal a pie. Don't think she tried pinching something from the kitchen ever again. We laugh about it today, but back then I can still remember just how angry my parents felt."
The masked badger continued staring at the ceiling. "And how is your sister today?"
"She remains with the Red Maple Tribe. Each year she sends me a letter insisting we move since squirrels need wood, not stone, but my mate and I love Redwall too much."
Tassel stretched from her prone position and with a mighty push, lifted herself off the sofa. Without any prompting, she set a pot over the fireplace and waited until it boiled. Once they each had a hot cup of tea warming their paws, she returned to the couch.
Stiles sipped his tea. "After your first night, Lady Pellanore insisted the guards be removed. According to the Father Abbot's diary, she found them too intimidating; I just wish our former Badgermom kept a journal. It would've made my job easier." The scribe remained quiet, hoping his guest might provide additional insight.
"Nothing special happened. Over the next few nights I met the others. With one exception, each would stick their head into my area and offer a good night before returning to their bed. Even after all these years, I'll never forget the day before my trial because it started out as something magical."
The squirrel scribe laughed. "The magic was thanks to Lady Pellanore, much to the objections of two certain hares. Our Badgermom must have been pleased our cook kept you working late as you slept through her surprise." Placing fresh paper before him, the scribe dipped his pen before looking at his guest. "I would love hearing about that day from your viewpoint."
Scratching her ear with one claw, the badger played for time by draining her cup. "Oh dear, not my best attribute you know. Telling stories about oneself is difficult, but let me see if I can. I suppose the beginning of the tale is with the morning. "
xxxxx
Tassel blinked her eyes as she peered from her woolen cocoon, uncertain as to what caused her to stir. Her nose sniffed the air and detected no unpleasant scent. Then her eyes focused on the cloth cell that defined her sleep area and finding nobody there; she gave a snort before digging deeper into her bedding.
She had just gotten comfortable when a shrill voice disturbed the peace. A soft moan escaped her lips as the voice turned more animated and persistent.
"Get out of your silly beds, its morning." Shortspike continued repeating this phrase as her voice marked her progress within the room.
When the hares take me to the kitchen, everyone is still asleep. What in the world would have her up this early?
A male voice groaned. "Say Dale, were we ever this excited about Dibbun Day?"
Another groggy male replied. "According to Badgermom Pellanore, you threatened to jump on her, quills first, if she didn't get up one year, Egress. So yes, I would say we were a bit excited when we were her age."
The first female voice she heard sounded as upset as it did sleepy. "Oh for the peace and quiet of home. You do your morning chores and then you can enjoy the rest of the day. We acted with far more dignity than a certain hogget."
"Well, she's up and I'm betting a lot of the dibbuns in this Abbey are making their way to the Tapestry Hallway." Of all the voices, Tassel remembered Henrietta's the best since they had talked long into the night on several occasions.
"I'm no dibbun" growled the voice of the black squirrel.
"Neither are we elders, Robertasin, but for this one day, we can enjoy acting like a child." Knowing Dale's words were intended as an admonishment to the one inhabitant who never directed a civil comment at her pleased Tassel. She snuggled deeper in her blankets.
A sudden weight landed on Tassel's side. Giving a menacing growl, Tassel poked her head beyond the confines of her blankets. The young hogget stepped backward until she encountered the cloth wall, though the exuberant expression remained plastered on her face. How could she be so miffed at such an excited child? Tassel pulled the blanket over her head.
"Father Hughnaught kept me working past the last bell scrubbing pots and pans. I swear I must have scoured everything in the kitchen at least three times. So let me sleep until those blasted hares come for me."
"Silly badger, no dibbun works today. Big, big, party."
"And just where do you think I can go wearing these chains?" Tassel didn't hide her anger.
Sticking her one paw forward, she saw Shortspike's blank expression. Her eyes shifted to her wrist. Though the shackle remained around her wrist, the chain had disappeared. In slow motion Tassel extended her other arm. Both arms were missing their restraints.
Tassel jumped to her feet, scattering her bedding in her haste to stand. The cuffs binding her ankles remained, but not the chains. A check of the nearest wall showed the metal ring, but nothing else.
Her unfettered foot prodded her bedding. Nothing metallic hidden there. She remembered Corporal Sweetleaf testing each lock before withdrawing like she did every night, so it made no sense. Chains cannot disappear. Tassel did a quick pirouette, enjoying her freedom of motion.
An inquisitive voice spoke from the indentation made in the cloth wall. "Is silly badger going to keep doing that silly dance or are you coming downstairs?"
She approached the small hedgehog. Tassel leaned closer until both were at eye level. She kept her left side facing Shortspike knowing her profile was not as frightening a sight. Only an old red scar that ran from the tip of her nose to a point under her eye marred that side of her face.
"I'm not so sure I would be allowed downstairs without those hares nearby. Why don't you go without me?"
Shortspike darted through the seam of the cloth walls. Once out of sight, she shouted. "That silly badger isn't leaving her silly room." There was a strong note of disappointment in this pronouncement.
Just as Tassel started folding the first blanket someone pulled the front cover to her room back. Three of the room's residents stood there like miniature elders with an expression reflecting disapproval, which she did not understand. Shortspike stood a pace behind, tears hanging unshed. Henrietta spoke volumes with nothing more than a simple gesture. She held out her paw.
When her foot crossed the threshold, Tassel shuddered. A quick glance down the corridor showed no other resident stirred and yet she hesitated. Tassel tested the air for the scent of any approaching hare, but one small paw pulling and three pushing, propelled her down a carpeted hallway. Another quick turn and Tassel stood at the top of a stairway.
Below her rose a cacophony of excited youthful voices shouting to one another. A glance over the railing revealed a swarm of young residents of every woodlander species in high spirits. Some carried colorful packages off to the side while others paraded around the room displaying something they carried. For Tassel, the festive air overwhelmed her senses as she became transfixed halfway down the stairs viewing a scene defying her powers of description or understanding.
"And what are you doing out here, badger?"
All turned towards the displeased voice. Seven uniformed hares and an eighth one dressed in formal attire stood at the top landing. Next to them, another youth Tassel knew all too well from her time within the Dormitory, glared down at her. The black squirrel advanced to a point out of her reach and high enough Tassel needed to look upward.
"I don't know why these others have befriended somebody we are fighting, but I'll wager you don't have permission to move about without an escort," said Robertasin.
There was no denying the deep hatred burning behind the green eyes. Neither was Robertasin's pleasure at discovering her committing some transgression. The black squirrel seemed embolden by the presence of the hares as she awaited the consequences of Tassel's error.
At the base of the staircase another resident appeared. Without rushing, the female badger started up the stairs. When Lady Pellanore drew even with Tassel, she faced the black squirrel eye to eye. The tone of her voice brooked no discussion.
"For today, Tassel has the Father Abbot's permission to attend the festivities without anyone shadowing her movements. Do nothing that will have him regret making such a decision." The elder badger glared first at the squirrel Robertasin, and then at Tassel and her entourage. "Any of you."
One by one Tassel and her four escorts descended the staircase. Badgermom Pellanore acted as a rear guard between them and the hares. Tassel made a rapid exit merging with the other celebrants, but staying close to the others. Her last sight of the black squirrel had her descending the stairs like an aristocrat, unaffected by those around her.
The jabbering hogget pulled Tassel's paw as they moved deeper into the room. Despite the heavy crowd, others gave way as Tassel advanced. Anyone looking on her disfigured face found their festive mood interrupted. However, once she passed, the gayety resumed. Shortspike continued pulling Tassel until they stood at the hallway's closed doors. There, under several hanging lanterns, a pile of colorful bags and boxes sat.
An old otter wearing a heavy shawl rested on a stool. When the hogget spoke her name, the elder pushed herself upright and using her cane, prodded the jumble of decorative boxes. While she did, Tassel's companions joined in the search. Just as the elder found what she wanted, each teen snagged one of the decorative objects and darted away. Upon receiving her bag, Shortspike bounded off, disappearing in the maelstrom of youthful exuberance leaving Tassel facing an unknown elder who frowned at her before returning to her chair.
"Well badger, take what is yours and be gone." The elder must have noticed her confusion, the otter again prodded the strewed items until she spotted one box. Using her cane as a pointer, the otter poked her gut with a light prod and then indicated the box. Once Tassel lifted the object, the elder returned to her chair.
Tassel tucked the decorated box under her arm and joined the milling crowd, not sure what she should do. Her wanderings took her past tables filled with confections of every description that left her salivating. Youngsters would rush over, scan the table's contents, and then pop one of the goodies into their mouth. Following their lead, Tassel reached for one, but then quickly withdrew her paw when she spotted an elder walking past.
Henrietta's unexpected voice startled her since she thought herself alone in this crowd. "Take whatever you like. It's why they are there, Tassel."
A quick look at Henrietta and her nod was all the incentive Tassel needed. Taking one hard treat, she placed it in her mouth, allowing the item to melt. Her pleasure evident, Henrietta mentioned the name of the candy.
"Is this the only time peppermint is used?"
Henrietta laughed. "I hear some elders add it to tea for flavor."
There was no chance at replying; the crowd swept Henrietta to another part of the room. With those she knew disbursed throughout the room, Tassel sought a quiet corner where she could examine her gift without being disturbed. She found a space between two tables that kept her out of the milling crowd and sat.
She inspected the box the elder said was hers. Somebody wrapped it in several pieces of colorful fabric and sewed it shut. The sewing held the fabric covering, but not too well. A clawed finger slipped under the stitching would snap it without much effort, which seemed intentional. Others didn't hesitate breaking the seals and discovering what treasure was within their box.
Tassel found the four corners far more interesting. The gift had a fabric tassels attached to each corner. If nothing else, it indicated which side should remain up. Her finger batted the one closest to her paw: the flipping threads mesmerized her.
Other slaves told her she got her name from an indiscretion committed at a party. While her mother worked in the kitchen, she slipped into the master's ballroom. Every lady in attendance wore fancy jewelry around their neck or attached to their ears. She envied their beauty. The next day, she bit off two curtain tassels and tied them to a loop of thread, turning them into earrings.
The master did not find it amusing and banished her to the fields. He renamed her Tassel to remind her why she could no longer enter the great manor. She would have asked her mother the truth of this story, but a loose rug and a high staircase ended her life a month later.
Her finger batted the tassel closest to her paw; her mind a jumble of pleasant memories. Two voices disturbed the trance created by the gyrating fabric. They were close and neither noticed her. The brown hare reached for a bowl of treats sitting near the edge where she squatted. His paw so close that a quick lunge and she could sample his fingers. She resisted that urge.
"I haven't seen the badger since Lady Pellanore relayed the Father Abbot's decision," said the brown hare.
"Not to worry, General. Just because the shrew is willing to let her wander about doesn't mean I've forgotten my duty. I stationed my unit just outside every exit; she'll not go far if she tries escaping. They can also respond to any incident should the need arise."
"These Redwallers are too lenient; allowing this vermin unsupervised movement, even for a day, is begging for trouble. And even worse, I hear somebody left her a gift."
"If she did get something, I'll confiscate whatever it is at the end of the day. Anyone objects, I'll claim she could use it as a weapon and I'm safeguarding their welfare, which should be sufficient. I doubt the Father Abbot would knowingly endanger the residents."
Captain Greypaw drained his tankard and placed it on the table with a heavy paw. "I'm more concerned about this trial tomorrow, General. These Abbey beasts might excuse her behavior since she isn't an elder yet. And let's not forget some here see her as a well-behaved teen."
"Convicting this vermin badger will be no problem. What bothers me is carrying out the sentence. Considering their misplaced sentimentality, we'll have to execute her somewhere private. Will your unit be able to do their duty?"
Tassel couldn't hear the reply as the two hares moved away from the table, joining many late-coming elders. As the party swirled around her, Tassel studied the unopened gift box. It lost all its appeal. She placed it on the floor under the table, rose from her place of concealment, and moved closer to where she had an unobstructed view of the musicians. Neither the melodious tones nor the delicious foods could recapture the sense of wonder the day held such a short time ago. She sensed the fall of a single tear that meandered down the side of her muzzle.