The Heart of Noonvale
Chapter 2
Popra Redclaws Treebender was the leader of a band of wild mice. He had named
himself, for he had the strength to bend trees, and his claws were permanently
stained red with the blood of his enemies. Popra (that was the only part he
retained of his given name) was father to three daughters and three sons.
These mice were not planning, gentle mice like the ones at Redwall
Abbey. They were ready to attack anything occupying what could be theirs, and
they all agreed the current thing to drive out were those blasted Redwall
Abbey creatures.
And Popra's family was not alone. They had a few foxes on their side,
looking for plunder after their captain Kira the Murderous had abandoned
them. They also had a legion of rats and stoats, even a ragged but loyal pine
marten.
It was night. Popra sat by the fire, sharpening his dagger.
"Da, we're out o' trout," reported one of his daughters, a lean mouse
named Gera who was missing part of one ear.
"Take Jutta with ya and get s'more," growled Popra. "We'll have carrot
stew t'night instead."
"Carrot stew!" remarked one of his sons, Kerr, from his lookout perch
in a branch. "I hates carrot stew, da. Couldn't ya just make mincemeat out of
one o' them rats?"
"I needs every one of those rats, Kerr," said Popra, rising. "An' I
just sharpened me dagger, so mebbe I could make mincemeat out o' YOU!"
"Don' fight, Popra," said his wife Lalli, brandishing her ladle. "Y'
also need every one o' your kin! An' you, Kerr!" she added, turning to her
son, "y' big fat ingrate! There are beasts out there who don' have a crumb o'
bread between 'em! So take wotcher given!"
"In Redwall Abbey they don' have carrot stew," said Mat, the third
daughter, as she helped Lalli prepare a thick broth.
"All the more reason f'r us t' conquer it!" said the chubby Jutta with
an evil grin.
"Stop gloatin' and help me get that trout!" said Gera, yanking Jutta
by the ear.
"Agh! Help! Maaaaaaaaaa!" screeched Jutta as she was dragged towards
the pond. The sight was so comical the whole camp broke out into laughter,
excluding Popra.
"Shaddup, all o' ya!" he screamed. Silence fell. Even Jutta had
stopped howling by now. "Those goody-beasts up there don' know we're here,
and we don' want them on their guard any time soon!"
"They've got a badger wit' them," said Popra's son Hilar quietly,
dicing carrots.
"We've got a pine marten wit' us!" said three of the foxes from the
back.
"An' Redclaws Treebender!" added the last one hastily, noting the
look the vicious leader shot their way.
"An' we'll be unstoppable, hopefully," said Popra, looking at the
sleeping abbey. Soon, it would belong to no one but the Treebender tribe, and
the only abbot in the new written history would be their leader, Popra
Redclaws!
Bluebell rapped on the gate. She waited, then knocked on it again.
"P'raps it's an open-gate policy, eh wot?" she said to Kira.
The enrobed animal shrugged. "Maybe," he said, still speaking in the
high-pitched voice. "Or maybe you should knock harder."
Runa, the abbey badger, heard the hard kick Bluebell gave to the gate.
"Great seasons," she said, "you don't have to beat the poor gate up! Just
open it!"
"See, open gate policy," muttered Bluebell, fiddling with the lock.
The hare and the fox stumbled in. Runa smiled. "And why are you here?"
"To see the Abbot," chorused the pair. "I've got to deliver this
message," added Bluebell, presenting it to the badger.
"Ah. I see," said Runa, reading the note. She handed it back to
Bluebell. "Come on in."
As Runa led them down the hall, Ferrie, carrying a tray of candied
chestnuts, bumped into Kira. Chestnuts flew everywhere, the tray shattered
and Kira, Runa, Bluebell and Ferrie slipped on the chestnuts and landed with
a sound THUD.
Kira gritted his teeth again and Bluebell lay prone on the floor with
a chestnut in her paw. But Runa got up right away.
"You clumsy oaf!" she yelled. "You shattered the Abbot's tray, made a
fine mess of Brother Sam's candied chestnuts and bowled over our two visitors!
What do you have to say for yourself?"
"S-sorry?" said Ferrie meekly.
"You had better be," muttered Runa. "Now clean up this mess while you
think of a way to explain to Abbot Grunn why his late mother's tray is
missing!"
"I'm dearly sorry, Mister and Missus...er, wot's your names?"
Runa glared at Ferrie, but the two visitors didn't mind. "I'm Bluebell
Longreeds," said the hare, quickly scarfing the chestnut, "captain of Lord
Greataxe's Long Patrol. An' this," she added, gesturing to the fox, "is Dennon.
Say, you didn't tell me much about yourself, sah. Why doncha tell this lovely,
clumsy gel?"
"Why not? I'm Dennon, er, Bushtail," said Kira. The high voice was
quickly becoming second nature. "My mother and father abandoned me in the
woods when I was but a babe, and so I grew up by myself. I had always admired
this abbey, so I decided now was the right time to arrive with a gift to the
Abbot, so that maybe he could accept me."
Ferrie sniffed. "That's so sad an' yet so wonderful, mister Bushtail,
sah. I'm sure the h'Abbot will let you in as soon as 'e 'ears your story!"
"And so we'll go now and tell him, and you can start cleaning," said
Runa.
Grunn looked over the letter from Lord Greataxe with a worried
expression.
"Excuse me, sah," said Bluebell politely, "but wot does it say? I
haven't read the note yet."
Grunn cleared his throat. "It says that you are a fighting fit git,"
he said. "No, I'm kidding. It says he sent you here to protect our Abbey,
because a fox named Kira the Murderous is headed our way! Imagine that!"
Kira was glad he had the robe on, because he broke out into a sweat.
He hoped that Bluebell and the Redwallers wouldn't start see through him.
"And what do you have for me?" said Grunn, looking up at Kira.
The fox pulled out the bag of berries. "T-these are for y-you, sir,"
he stuttered. "And any of your k-kind abbey b-beasts."
"Or for me if you bally well don't like it at all!" said Bluebell with
a twinkle in her eye.
"Why, they're delicious!" exclaimed Grunn after trying one, much to
Bluebell's dismay. "But they're too good to waste plain. Oh, I know! The
anniversary of Redwall being built is coming up."
"Yes, so?" said Runa.
"We can get Brother Sam and Friar Abel to use these in their baking!"
"Are they really that good?" said Runa skeptically. Grunn offered her
one. "Why yes, they are!" said Runa, answering her own question as she wiped
berry juice off her muzzle.
"May I eat, marm?" said Bluebell. "Excuse me, but you never really
told us your names."
"Oh, right. I am Grunn Softspike, the Abbot, and this here is Runa,
our resident badger."
"Pleased t' meecha." Bluebell curtsied the best she could without a
skirt.
Kira's mind, however, was on other things. The anniversary. This meant
a big party.
A big opportunity for looting Redwall of all it contained.
It was an ideal plan, but Kira felt a bit of guilt. After all, he had
come here to reform, not to knock tricked Abbey beasts down like flies.
One glance at the great Redwall tapestry changed his mind. This was,
in the words of a hare, a "spiffin'" piece of fabric, probably worth more than
all of his former troupe.
He would strike soon, he knew. But when?
Popra had plotted with Gera the other night. After they had come up with
a plan they told the other tribe members what to do.
"If you screw this up heads will roll!" said Gera, with a frightening
glimmer in her eyes and a long sword in her hand. With that, she headed off,
proclaiming, "I'm going to make myself look a fright!"
"Shouldn't be too hard," muttered Jutta. Mat thwacked her upside the
head with a ladle.
"Doncha ever insult the second-in-command like that, dullears," Mat
growled. "I bet you wouldn't say that about da, or ma, or Kerr!"
"Oooh, I so scared," said Jutta, mockingly flattening her ears. "I
an ickle Dibbun, an' I so scared of big scary Kerr!"
Kerr unsheathed his sword. "Shut up," he said, pressing it against
Jutta's neck.
These were no abbeybeasts!
Runa, out tending the gardens again, heard the weak knock on the gate.
As she opened it, a ragged mouse stared up at her.
"Missus, I am in need of food an' water," it croaked.
Runa stood silent for a moment. Didn't the mighty Matthias the warrior
start out like this?
She decided to give the poor mouse the benefit of the doubt. "Come on
in, then," she said.
Gera smiled inwardly. If she could infiltrate the abbey, then she would
surely be her father's heir!
Chapter 2
Popra Redclaws Treebender was the leader of a band of wild mice. He had named
himself, for he had the strength to bend trees, and his claws were permanently
stained red with the blood of his enemies. Popra (that was the only part he
retained of his given name) was father to three daughters and three sons.
These mice were not planning, gentle mice like the ones at Redwall
Abbey. They were ready to attack anything occupying what could be theirs, and
they all agreed the current thing to drive out were those blasted Redwall
Abbey creatures.
And Popra's family was not alone. They had a few foxes on their side,
looking for plunder after their captain Kira the Murderous had abandoned
them. They also had a legion of rats and stoats, even a ragged but loyal pine
marten.
It was night. Popra sat by the fire, sharpening his dagger.
"Da, we're out o' trout," reported one of his daughters, a lean mouse
named Gera who was missing part of one ear.
"Take Jutta with ya and get s'more," growled Popra. "We'll have carrot
stew t'night instead."
"Carrot stew!" remarked one of his sons, Kerr, from his lookout perch
in a branch. "I hates carrot stew, da. Couldn't ya just make mincemeat out of
one o' them rats?"
"I needs every one of those rats, Kerr," said Popra, rising. "An' I
just sharpened me dagger, so mebbe I could make mincemeat out o' YOU!"
"Don' fight, Popra," said his wife Lalli, brandishing her ladle. "Y'
also need every one o' your kin! An' you, Kerr!" she added, turning to her
son, "y' big fat ingrate! There are beasts out there who don' have a crumb o'
bread between 'em! So take wotcher given!"
"In Redwall Abbey they don' have carrot stew," said Mat, the third
daughter, as she helped Lalli prepare a thick broth.
"All the more reason f'r us t' conquer it!" said the chubby Jutta with
an evil grin.
"Stop gloatin' and help me get that trout!" said Gera, yanking Jutta
by the ear.
"Agh! Help! Maaaaaaaaaa!" screeched Jutta as she was dragged towards
the pond. The sight was so comical the whole camp broke out into laughter,
excluding Popra.
"Shaddup, all o' ya!" he screamed. Silence fell. Even Jutta had
stopped howling by now. "Those goody-beasts up there don' know we're here,
and we don' want them on their guard any time soon!"
"They've got a badger wit' them," said Popra's son Hilar quietly,
dicing carrots.
"We've got a pine marten wit' us!" said three of the foxes from the
back.
"An' Redclaws Treebender!" added the last one hastily, noting the
look the vicious leader shot their way.
"An' we'll be unstoppable, hopefully," said Popra, looking at the
sleeping abbey. Soon, it would belong to no one but the Treebender tribe, and
the only abbot in the new written history would be their leader, Popra
Redclaws!
Bluebell rapped on the gate. She waited, then knocked on it again.
"P'raps it's an open-gate policy, eh wot?" she said to Kira.
The enrobed animal shrugged. "Maybe," he said, still speaking in the
high-pitched voice. "Or maybe you should knock harder."
Runa, the abbey badger, heard the hard kick Bluebell gave to the gate.
"Great seasons," she said, "you don't have to beat the poor gate up! Just
open it!"
"See, open gate policy," muttered Bluebell, fiddling with the lock.
The hare and the fox stumbled in. Runa smiled. "And why are you here?"
"To see the Abbot," chorused the pair. "I've got to deliver this
message," added Bluebell, presenting it to the badger.
"Ah. I see," said Runa, reading the note. She handed it back to
Bluebell. "Come on in."
As Runa led them down the hall, Ferrie, carrying a tray of candied
chestnuts, bumped into Kira. Chestnuts flew everywhere, the tray shattered
and Kira, Runa, Bluebell and Ferrie slipped on the chestnuts and landed with
a sound THUD.
Kira gritted his teeth again and Bluebell lay prone on the floor with
a chestnut in her paw. But Runa got up right away.
"You clumsy oaf!" she yelled. "You shattered the Abbot's tray, made a
fine mess of Brother Sam's candied chestnuts and bowled over our two visitors!
What do you have to say for yourself?"
"S-sorry?" said Ferrie meekly.
"You had better be," muttered Runa. "Now clean up this mess while you
think of a way to explain to Abbot Grunn why his late mother's tray is
missing!"
"I'm dearly sorry, Mister and Missus...er, wot's your names?"
Runa glared at Ferrie, but the two visitors didn't mind. "I'm Bluebell
Longreeds," said the hare, quickly scarfing the chestnut, "captain of Lord
Greataxe's Long Patrol. An' this," she added, gesturing to the fox, "is Dennon.
Say, you didn't tell me much about yourself, sah. Why doncha tell this lovely,
clumsy gel?"
"Why not? I'm Dennon, er, Bushtail," said Kira. The high voice was
quickly becoming second nature. "My mother and father abandoned me in the
woods when I was but a babe, and so I grew up by myself. I had always admired
this abbey, so I decided now was the right time to arrive with a gift to the
Abbot, so that maybe he could accept me."
Ferrie sniffed. "That's so sad an' yet so wonderful, mister Bushtail,
sah. I'm sure the h'Abbot will let you in as soon as 'e 'ears your story!"
"And so we'll go now and tell him, and you can start cleaning," said
Runa.
Grunn looked over the letter from Lord Greataxe with a worried
expression.
"Excuse me, sah," said Bluebell politely, "but wot does it say? I
haven't read the note yet."
Grunn cleared his throat. "It says that you are a fighting fit git,"
he said. "No, I'm kidding. It says he sent you here to protect our Abbey,
because a fox named Kira the Murderous is headed our way! Imagine that!"
Kira was glad he had the robe on, because he broke out into a sweat.
He hoped that Bluebell and the Redwallers wouldn't start see through him.
"And what do you have for me?" said Grunn, looking up at Kira.
The fox pulled out the bag of berries. "T-these are for y-you, sir,"
he stuttered. "And any of your k-kind abbey b-beasts."
"Or for me if you bally well don't like it at all!" said Bluebell with
a twinkle in her eye.
"Why, they're delicious!" exclaimed Grunn after trying one, much to
Bluebell's dismay. "But they're too good to waste plain. Oh, I know! The
anniversary of Redwall being built is coming up."
"Yes, so?" said Runa.
"We can get Brother Sam and Friar Abel to use these in their baking!"
"Are they really that good?" said Runa skeptically. Grunn offered her
one. "Why yes, they are!" said Runa, answering her own question as she wiped
berry juice off her muzzle.
"May I eat, marm?" said Bluebell. "Excuse me, but you never really
told us your names."
"Oh, right. I am Grunn Softspike, the Abbot, and this here is Runa,
our resident badger."
"Pleased t' meecha." Bluebell curtsied the best she could without a
skirt.
Kira's mind, however, was on other things. The anniversary. This meant
a big party.
A big opportunity for looting Redwall of all it contained.
It was an ideal plan, but Kira felt a bit of guilt. After all, he had
come here to reform, not to knock tricked Abbey beasts down like flies.
One glance at the great Redwall tapestry changed his mind. This was,
in the words of a hare, a "spiffin'" piece of fabric, probably worth more than
all of his former troupe.
He would strike soon, he knew. But when?
Popra had plotted with Gera the other night. After they had come up with
a plan they told the other tribe members what to do.
"If you screw this up heads will roll!" said Gera, with a frightening
glimmer in her eyes and a long sword in her hand. With that, she headed off,
proclaiming, "I'm going to make myself look a fright!"
"Shouldn't be too hard," muttered Jutta. Mat thwacked her upside the
head with a ladle.
"Doncha ever insult the second-in-command like that, dullears," Mat
growled. "I bet you wouldn't say that about da, or ma, or Kerr!"
"Oooh, I so scared," said Jutta, mockingly flattening her ears. "I
an ickle Dibbun, an' I so scared of big scary Kerr!"
Kerr unsheathed his sword. "Shut up," he said, pressing it against
Jutta's neck.
These were no abbeybeasts!
Runa, out tending the gardens again, heard the weak knock on the gate.
As she opened it, a ragged mouse stared up at her.
"Missus, I am in need of food an' water," it croaked.
Runa stood silent for a moment. Didn't the mighty Matthias the warrior
start out like this?
She decided to give the poor mouse the benefit of the doubt. "Come on
in, then," she said.
Gera smiled inwardly. If she could infiltrate the abbey, then she would
surely be her father's heir!