Weylan Jr. and Weylan Sr. chat. Valia is scolded. The Dibbuns seek shelter, and Tim finds something. I had lots of ideas for this chapter, and, unable to choose between them, used most of them. And I didn't use all of them, meaning there are more to come. Little more Southsward scenes this chapter.

Chapter 26

It was suddenly silent in the throne room. It seemed no one else had something to say, so everyone had turned to look at Weylan to survey his reaction. Particularly Mattimeo, who expected his otter friend to have some kind of remark to say. But Weylan was silent, perhaps too stunned to speak. But that was hard to tell, because his expression seemed to be frozen as well.

So finally, Mattimeo ventured to speak. "Grandson?" he inquired, wondering how the older Captain Weylan had been so quick to figure it out.

"He is th' son of Jude Riverstryke, correct?" Captain Weylan asked politely.

Weylan finally seemed to snap out of it with a shake of his head. "Er, aye." he replied.

"Then he is my grandson." Captain Weylan replied. "Jude Riverstryke is my son, although it's been many seasons since I saw him last."

Another moment of silence fell. Valia and the guards stood, exiting their bowing positions for the first time since the meeting began.

"This is awkward." she remarked.

Mattimeo was forced to agree.

"Permission t' 'ave some time t' chat with young Weylan, yore majesty." Captain Weylan asked suddenly.

"Granted, of course." the Squrrielking replied, standing. Valia and the guards quickly bowed again. "I have other business to attend to, anyway." he saluted to his subjects, then walked out of the room.

The guards quickly left the room as well, leaving Mattimeo, Weylan, the older Weylan, Valia, and Captain Trey in the room.

Trey approached Valia. "Well, I can see why it took ye so long t' get 'ome now." he said to Valia. "But that doesn't explain wot ye were doin' out there anyway."

"Can't I 'ave some time t' meself occasionally, Father?" Valia asked, annoyed.

Mattimeo blinked at the word 'father', not realizing the two were that closely related.

"We'll talk later." Trey promised folding his arms. "In the meantime, lets show young Matthias Methuselah Mortimer to his room."

"Just Mattimeo will suffice, sir." Mattimeo said, but was impressed Trey had remembered his full name entirely.

He followed the Streambattles out of the room, leaving the two Weylans, older and younger, to themselves.

It was then that Weylan ventured to speak again. "Grandson?" he asked.

"Aye." Captain Weylan said. "Always wondered if I had one I didn't know about. I'm glad Jude had th' sense t' settle down an' get one." he watched his grandson's expression for a moment. "Ye seemed t' 'ave mixed emotions over this. Aren't ye happy?"

"I am happy!" Weylan quickly assured him. "I'm just stunned an' surprised an' unsure an'..."

Captain Weylan laughed. "Weren't expectin' t' see yore grandfather, eh?" he asked, grinning.

"No, I guess I wasn't." Weylan said. "See, Father never told..."

"How is Jude?" Captain Weylan interrupted. "Is life treatin' 'im well?"

Weylan hesitated for a moment, biting his lip. "He's dead." he finally admitted gravely. "Killed by vermin when I was very young."

Captain Weylan sighed, bowing his head. If he was any more distraught than that, he hid it well. "I'm sorry Jude." he whispered to himself, the directed his attention Weylan the younger again. "Wot about yore mother? How is she?"

Again, Weylan bit his lip. "She has passed on as well, just recently, from old age." he admitted sadly. Captain Weylan bowed his head again before Weylan continued. "See, that's really why I'm 'ere. I wanted t' see if I 'ad any family t' speak of somewhere in this world."

At this, Captain Weylan grinned. "Of course ye do." he said softly. "All of th' entire 'olt is 'ere."

"The entire 'olt Lesbrin?" Weylan repeated, looking stunned.

"Thought we were all dead, didn't ye?" Captain Weylan asked jokingly.

"The thought did cross me mind." Weylan admitted.

"Well, it's a very long story." Captain Weylan said, glancing out a window at the increasing darkness outside. "But let's save it fer mornin'. Ye can meet th' rest of the family in th' mornin' too. They'll be pleased t' meet ye."

"As will I." Weylan said, looking excited.

"But first, ye need sleep." Captain Weylan said, leading the way out of the room. "I'll show ye t' yore room. Oh, an' before I ferget, do ye 'ave a middle name?"

Weylan frowned at the odd question. "Not that I'm aware of." he said.

"Good." Captain Weylan said. "I wasn't really likin' the idea of havin' t' call ye Weylan Junior. But seein' that we share first names, which I find touchin', regardless, it'd probably be best if I start goin' by me own middle name while yore 'ere."

"Okay, Ardra, sir." Weylan replied.

"Ye can call me grandpa, ye know." Ardra said.

"I know, but, well, it's kinda a new idea t' me." Weylan said. "Ye'll understand if I don't fer a liddle while, at least?"

Ardra nodded, grinning proudly. "Weylan, Weylan, Weylan." he said. "Yore more like yore father than ye probably realize."

"Care t' explain t' me why ye yore off in the woods instead 'ere at the castle like ye should be, Valia?" Trey Streambattle asked after they had taken Mattimeo to a guest room in one of Castle Floret's many towers.

"I'm not a liddle 'un anymore father." Valia grumbled as they walked through the castle to their own quarters. "I'm nearly full grown an' an adult."

"Yore still me daughter." Trey stated. "An' that doesn't answer me question. Ye were supposed t' stay 'ere an finish yore chores."

"I did finish." Valia replied.

"Not all of 'em, accordin' t' yore mother."

"I didn't feel I 'ad t' finish those chores."

"Well ye did, and ye know it, too." Trey said. He shook his head. "Where were ye out in those woods anyway? Ye weren't tryin' t' swim in the south stream again, where ye?"

Valia hesitated. "Maybe."

"Valia..."

"Technically it wasn't tryin'. I was doin' just fine until that Weylan fellow interfered."

"Probably t' keep ye from drownin' in those rapids." Trey said, shaking his head. "Wot are we gonna do with ye, Valia? Ye know ye aren't supposed t' swim in the south stream! It's too dangerous!"

"You did it."

"Only because it was part of me responsibility as captain." Trey pointed out. "An' I only did it the one time t' catch a criminal. Never again."

"But shouldn't it be a good idea fer an otter t' be able t' swim in all kinds of treacherous water?" Valia asked.

"Even otters 'ave their limits, Valia." Trey said, suddenly seeing where this was going. "An' drownin' yerself doesn't make ye a warrior anyway. That's why ye skipped doin' yore chores, ain't it? Ye felt it was more important t' do this so called trainin' of yores t' be a warrior!"

"Maybe." Valia said, again avoiding a direct answer.

"Valia, ye can't be a warrior!" Trey said. "Maidens are supposed t' cook, an' clean, an'...an'...an' stuff like that. Not goin' out killing creatures while riskin' yore own life!"

"Oh?" Valia said with contempt. "Then wot about Mariel from Redwall, in the legends? She was a warrior!"

"She was a mouse, too." Trey pointed out.

"Like it makes any difference!" Valia exclaimed. "Father, I want to be a warrior. Do ye really want t' deny me my right t' choose?"

"Well, no." Trey admitted. "But ye still can't be a warrior! Ye're untrained, an'..."

"Untrained?" Valia repeated, outraged. "Father, I'm already trained! I am very skilled with a blade, and have gone up against an' beat members o' th' otter guard! I want t' be a warrior, I can be a warrior, an' I will be a warrior!"

She stopped suddenly. "Where are we?" she asked, realizing they had been walking through the corridors without paying attention to where they were going. "Our quarters are back that way, ain't it?"

"Aye." Trey replied.

Valia nodded, and turned around to head back. Trey followed, wondering whether or not to continue the argument. He finally decided to let it go. For now, anyway.

"Quiet dears, stay in line, and do as you're told, please." Auma cooed as the Dibbuns filed into line to enter Warbeak's Loft through a trap door that had been opened the following morning.

"Mutha Auma," a mousebabe spoke, tugging on the badger's apron. "Where we a'goin'?"

"Someplace safe from the bad creatures who occupy the abbey." Auma replied.

"We gonna slay 'em all?" asked a nearby squirrelbabe.

"Heavens, no!" Auma exclaimed. "Not us, anyway. But don't you fret you're little mind over that. We're going to spend some time with the sparrows."

"We play with the birdies?" the mousebabe asked.

"If they will allow it." Auma said, who was unsure how well the Sparra Kingdom would react to the Dibbuns.

"They teach us t' fly?" asked an otterbabe hopefully.

"Great seasons, I sure hope not!" exclaimed one of the maidens that was helping the line to move along.

"Yeh ain't need t' learn t' fly!" exclaimed the squirrelbabe, cuffing the otterbabe's ear. "Yeh can swim!"

"Swimmin' ain't flyin'!" the otterbabe pointed out, rubbing his ear.

"Good point, but you aren't going to learn to fly, and you shouldn't hit." Auma said, scolding both Dibbuns in turn.

"'cept fer vermin?" the squirrelbabe asked.

"Except for vermin, yes." Auma omitted.

"Sparra ready!" said one of the feisty birds as it poked it's head out of the trapdoor as the Dibbuns filed in. "Babeworms fly safe, promise!"

"Fly?" Orlando exclaimed, as he arrived to see the last group to head up to the loft. "But why would they need to fly? Doesn't this lead straight to the loft?"

"Not directly." Matthias said, who was there supervising. "It leads to a point high up in Great Hall. The Dibbuns will each to get to ride a sparrow, one at a time, up to a trapdoor that will lead into the loft itself." he saw Orlando's dubious expression, and added, "It can be done. Trust me, I know."

"But aren't creatures like us too heavy for a sparrow to carry?" Orlando asked.

"Not the Dibbuns." Matthias explained. "They're small enough and light enough that a sparrow can carry one at a time. It'll take a little while, but they'll all get up there without incident."

"Then how will the older beasts get up there?" Orlando asked. "They're too heavy to ride a sparrow."

"Sam Squirrel and Swayner have climbed up there and down again already and put together a make-shift ladder, so to speak." Matthias explained further. "And before you ask, it is safe to climb, as evidenced as these Dibbuns and their escorts are the last of the group to go up there. We've have had no incidents of anything going wrong as of yet."

"But what about Toka and his horde?" Orlando asked.

"They're a bit more problematic." Matthias admitted. "The spot they exited in Great Hall, is just out of range of Toka's archers, but they can see completely what we do. Toka knows what we're up to. Unfortunately, there's not much we can do about it."

"There, that's all of them." Auma announced suddenly as the last Dibbun disappeared into the trapdoor. "Up you go everyone else, who's going up."

The maidens who had assisted clambered on up, Auma taking up the lead. The badger just barely squeezed into the trapdoor, then turned around to look back down at Matthias and Orlando.

"I'll see to it that they all stay safe, promise." Auma said.

"Of that, I cannot doubt." Orlando stated.

"Agreed." Matthias said. "Everyone here knows you will do well, that is why we agreed to let you go."

"If we have any problems, we'll send a sparrow down as a messenger." Auma added.

"And we'll keep you posted up there of what's happening down here." Matthias said.

Auma nodded, and forced a smile, trying to be brave. "Be safe, all of you. Please."

"Don't worry about us, or Toka, daughter." Orlando said, taking Auma's paw and holding it for a moment. "We'll handle that lot."

"Be careful regardless." Auma said, "The hope of Redwall rests in your paws now." she withdrew fully through the trapdoor. "Goodbye, and good luck." she said. Then she closed the trapdoor, locking it.

Orlando sighed deeply. "Here's hoping, friend." he said to Matthias.

Matthias nodded, leaning on his cane. "Here's hoping indeed."

"Maybe if we tried this, sah..."

"No, Lieutenant, that would be suicide."

"Maybe, then, if we maneuvered like this and attacked the bally foe from here..."

"Again, suicide. They'd cut us off in a heartbeat."

"Well, then, if we tried this, travelin' this way..."

"Once again, that would be suicide."

"Ah yes, I can see why already. Well then, sah, all I've got left t' consider in my noggin is this bloomin' idea."

"Well, I'd admit that wouldn't be suicide. It'd be more like limited genocide or somethin' like that. In short, we all die that way, too."

"Well then, sah, I'm jolly well out of ideas."

"You tried your hardest, Nicodemus, an' that's wot counts, eh wot?"

Wootiberg and Gooding reset the model they had made of Redwall, the walltops, and their troops as well as Toka's, using items they had found lying around the gatehouse cottage and the walltops. Once they were done with that, they stared at it for awhile, imaging new battle plans that were just as quickly crossed out again.

"Well, wot if we tried this." Wootiberg said, taking some of their troops on their improvised battlefield and moving them around.

"No good sah." Gooding replied. "It'd lure Toka out, for sure, but we still wouldn't have anywhere t' go. We'd just fall victim to the flippin' blighter."

"I know, but wot if we left some of our troops up on the walls where they're still safe?" Wootiberg asked. "Then they could attack Toka's horde as they come out."

"Still no good, sah." Gooding replied, shifting the objects they were using as Toka's troops around. "They'd just seek shelter, and kill us off one by one."

"Now wait." Wootiberg said. "Are those buttons representing Toka's bally troops, or were they the pumpkin seeds?"

"No sah, the pumpkin seeds are our troops." Gooding replied.

"Ah, very good chap, carry on." Wootiberg said. Moments later he had another idea. "Suppose we got th' sparrows in on this. Think they'd jolly well give us an edge?"

"Hardly, sah, they'd be picked off like sittin' ducks every time they came in range of arrows sah." Gooding sighed, leaning back in his seat. "No matter how we look at this, I can't find a solution."

"Regrettably, neither can I, Nicodemus." Wootiberg said, also leaning back. He glanced over at Tim, sitting on the other side of the gatehouse. "Hey, Tim. You got any ideas?"

Tim didn't answer, staring intently into the book he had open on his lap."

"Tim?" Wootiberg repeated, annoyed. "Tim! TIM!"

"Hmm?" Tim said after a delay of a split second. "You say something, colonel?"

"Wot's so interestin' about that book, anyway?" Gooding asked.

"I've never read it." Tim stated.

"We know, you said that when it nearly hit your head as it fell off the bloomin' bookcase." Wootiberg said. "An' I still don't know how a book can help us."

"Mm." Tim said, not listening anymore.

"Wot's that book about, anyway, Tim?" Wootiberg asked. "Tim? TIM!"

"Oh, um, it's various records all conglomerated into one book." Tim explained, pulling his eyes away from the book for the first time since he had started to read it. "See, back when Redwall was being built, there was no assigned recorder, per say. One creature usually did most of it, but another would occasionally add in small parts. These parts alone weren't enough to fill a whole book, so somebeast decided to put all of them together into one book. This book. It's very interesting, actually. There are records in here that were written by some very notable figures in Redwall history. Abbes Germaine, Bella, Gonff the mousetheif, Skipper of otters, Columbine, Dinny, and of course, Martin the Warrior."

"Okay, but how does that help us in our present situation?" Wootiberg asked.

"Perhaps a great deal." Tim said, bringing the book over to the two hares. "See, there was one record Martin wrote that wasn't a record at all. In it, he speaks of any things, but most predominantly of something he found valuable somewhere within Redwall." he held up the book so the hares could see. "Somewhere in this abbey is the treasure of Martin the Warrior. And we're not talking about Martin's sword either. His brief, but cryptic, description of it doesn't match up with it, plus it was written sometime before Martin hid his sword away."

"Very interestin', Tim." Wootiberg admitted. "But wot good is a treasure goin' t' do us?"

"Ah, but it's not so much the treasure itself, but as what's with it." Tim said. "Martin describes in this writing of a map of Redwall, one that included everything about it's structure. Perhaps even the very blueprints originally drawn by Abbes Germaine. We have some of them, but not all of them."

"So?" Gooding asked.

"Redwall has many secret passages and rooms in it." Tim said. "These blueprints, if that's what they are, could quite possibly reveal a secret passage that leads from here..." he pointed down at the gatehouse floor to indicate the room they stood in, "...to there." he pointed out the window at the main structure of the abbey.

Both hares gave Tim surprised looks.

"You wanted a way into that abbey?" Tim asked rhetorically. "Then this treasure could be your best bet."