Chapter Twenty-Eight


Abbess Song walked with her mother Rimrose, Lady Cregga, Cypress the vixen and Hawthorne the pine marten to the gatehouse with a tray set with afternoon tea for five. Rimrose shook her head smiling. "Ever since Bianca got her paws on that book about Martin the Warrior, she's barely stirred from the Gatehouse for mealtimes or bedtime!"

"It's wonderful that Redwall has such a devoted historian," laughed Hawthorne. Cypress giggled as she lead Cregga by the arm.

Rimrose opened the door for the others and the Abbess put the tray down in front of the little mouse. Sister Bianca rubbed her eyes and looked up at the visitors. "Moles should not be historians," was all she said.

Hawthorne laughed again and looked at the passage Bianca was reading. Bianca sipped on the tea and answered Song's inquiring look. "Foremole wrote a chapter for Abbess Germanine in this book about the engineering of the flooding of Kotir and sinking the foundations for the Abbey. I didn't think moles would also write in mole speech!"

Song picked up a cup of tea as well and sipped it. She shook off some of the excess sugar from a scone and bit into it. Putting down her cup gingerly she said, "Sinon and Foremole are supervising the lowering of Abbess Germaine's desk from the attics. Colonel Nymium and Lord Russano and their hares have been a great help. I can't wait to show this important relic to the creatures of Redwall."

"I have a feeling that desk will be of great importance," said the vixen. "It's almost as if someone has been searching for it all his or her life."

"That's a funny thing to be thinking, Cypress," said Hawthorne.

"It's strange, when you told me about Abbess Germaine's writing desk, I felt strange, like the last cards in fate's hand had been put on the table. And I felt a chill in the air, as if a storm was coming that I will not see the end of."

Hawthorne looked disturbed by the vixen's words. Song felt the fur on the nape of her neck stand up. "I can't imagine what you mean."

Cregga turned her blind head towards the Abbess.

Sister Bianca coughed; she was never one to abide awkward silences for long. "Abbess Song, I meant to show you that book about Holt Tungro's furniture. Abbess Germaine penned it herself."

The little mouse jumped up and scurried up the nearest ladder to sort through the huge stacks of books. The Abbess stood up slowly in worry when she saw the little mouse leaning rather far and holding onto the ladder with paw.

Lady Cregga turned her head towards Sister Bianca, also worried by the creakings she heard. "Be careful, Sister."

Bianca plucked the book from the shelf and scampered down the ladder, offering her findings to the Abbess. The little mouse smiled at the Badger Mother,

"Sometimes I think you see more than we do."

"Perceive more, perhaps," said Cypress. The vixen held Cregga's head between her hand and stared into her blind eyes. "You share the same perception of the future that I do, friend."

Cregga snorted. "Tell us what's in that book, Song."

Song opened the book reverently and glanced through it, "Beautiful sketches and diagrams of some of the more noteworthy pieces that Tungro's holt made: the head table in the great hall, the front gates. And Martin the Warrior, Skipper and Lady Amber all are quoted on their recommendations for the Abbey defenses. Amazing!"

"Where does Abbess Germaine talk about her desk?" Rimrose asked Sister Bianca who was now bouncing back and forth on the balls of her feet in excitement.

"Not until the end. The explanation of the inlays and other decorations are particularly interesting. Folgrim even carved a poem into the back of the desk somewhere. I can't wait to read it!"

Hawthorne sat back and laughed again, taking another sip of her tea.


CCC

Lord Russano was standing a bit off to the side with Colonel Basil Nymium, Log-a-Log Dippler, Chief Burble, Jangular and Rusval, watching the progress being made in moving the desk. Sinon the squirrel was climbing up and down between the attic and the floor they were presently on, keeping and eye on the desk's progress, while Skipper and his otters were anchoring him on a safety line. Foremole was directing his moles and the hares as they moved the desk in much the same way that the Abbess and her companions had climbed up to discover it in the first place.

Sinon jumped down onto the windowsill and Skipper helped the squirrel try to untie Dippler's complicated knot around the squirrel's waist.

Russano winked at the squirrels standing next to him. "To be young and winsome again, eh."

Rusval patted Jangular's stomach. "They'd have to use a bit more cord for us, eh, mate."

Jangular crossed his arms over his chest. Colonel Nymium chuckled and patted the squirrel warrior on the back, saying, "I say, wot a bit of luck that Sinon is so dedicated to the Abbey. 'Tis a good thing you have him, since…" he glanced awkwardly at Rusval.

Now Rusval crossed his arms over his chest. "My son abandoned his duties? Is that what you were going to say?"

The Colonel's ears flopped down in dismay "Not at all, old chap. Merely that…."

"Redwall's lucky Sinon is there to replace him? That squirrel will never replace my son, never." Rusval stormed off in a huff.

"Bad show, chaps. Open mouth, insert foot, eh."

Skipper and Sinon walked over to the others. The otter chieftain looked over as Rusval slammed the door shut. "Looks like everythin's shipshape, mateys. The desk should be down momentarily."

"Shipshape? Right you are," said Dippler with an ironic smile.