ÒWhen I got into that dark carriage, I felt that I was in paradise! But by the seventh day of the journey I felt that I was in hell. When we were settled in the classroom of the school, and whatÕs more given a carpet and surrounded by suitcases, I again felt myself to be in paradise; but after three days I was fed up; in these circumstances you canÕt get undressed, surrounded by strangers. I again perceived this as hell.Ó
Ê Ê Ê Ê Ê Ê Ê Ê Ê Ê Ê Ê Ê Ê Ê Ê Ê Ê Ê Ê Ê Ê Ê Ê Ê Ê Ê Ê Ê Ê Ê Ê Ê Ê Ê Ê Ê Ê Ê Ê ÑDSCH

Ê Ê Ê Ê Each creature has a map in his mindÑnot so much one that marks different places by actual location, but rather pinpoints them with set associated emotions. There are shady places and clear ones, ones with a large population of emotion, so to speak, and ones with a smaller countÑitÕs like a normal map with the color and size of the dots marking places. On a printed paper map, though, there is no distinction between ÒgoodÓ places and ÒbadÓ places. That sort of distinction comes only on a multidimensional mental map, and itÕs a different grouping per creature. For example, I loathe Mtsensk, love Redwall, and am tied strongly to my home village despite the fact I donÕt want to return there and see whatÕs become of it. Zlaya, on the other paw, adored Mtsensk, couldnÕt have cared less about my town, and saw Redwall as unfavorable but with an easily changed status.
Ê Ê Ê Ê One might say itÕs difficult to link the good places to the bad ones; rather, one wouldnÕt want to try and make such connections. They might raise the view of one of the lower places, but a detraction from a better placeÕs image is just as likely. And yet as surely as there are solid line routes marked on a real map, routes from good to bad exist in the mind. Sometimes theyÕre murky and mostly ignorable, but in the rarer case new such routes can be cleared by a live element of a physical ÒbadÓ place literally moving toward a real ÒgoodÓ place.
Ê Ê Ê Ê My second trip to Redwall was far lacking in pleasure compared to the firstÑthat is, the actual trip as well as the stay. The lavish, luxurious belled carriageÑthe same one that I heard when I first met ZlayaÑmade for a physically comfortable ride, but to be seated next to Vsevolod Zloyevich immediately and Zlaya Trudnaya to his other side was mentally extremely strenuous. The hordes of Mtsensk soldiers that followed at some distance behind also were responsible for a note of discomfort. The ride to Redwall took several days, and I think I would have been happier enduring it as a bout of tedium rather than a bout of extreme tenseness.
Ê Ê Ê Ê The conversation between Zlaya and Zloyevich was sporadicÑfor hours theyÕd be silent, and then theyÕd chat for another block of time. The subject matter, you know, was mostly on the planned procedure of dominating Redwall. And if it went beyond that, it was going beyond in timeÑtalk of what to do with such a stronghold once itÕs captured. To restructure it, rename it? And how to handle the RedwallersÑimprison them, enslave them, kill them all? That, Zlaya and Zloyevich decided, would depend on what happened in the attack. The attack that was still the primary concern, for there would be time to think about what comes after afterwards.
Ê Ê Ê Ê Compromising the attack was also the false peace talk, so to speak, beforehand. One might say that Zlaya put very much consideration into a speech whose only purpose was to buy time. I think that Zlaya could have just attacked aloneÑIÕm glad she didnÕt, donÕt get me wrongÑbut it would have been easier. And yet Zlaya wanted to go inside firstÑa fortunate thing for me, even to contradict myself. Zlaya would say something with flowery, yet propaganda-laced language, then sheÕd turn to Zloyevich, expecting some sort of comments. I suspect that, had he not nodded in agreement with her words, Zlaya would have still kept her speech the way it was. Perhaps she looked to Zloyevich for additional propaganda to use; perhaps ZloyevichÕs being Minister of Propaganda had something to do with the speech-first plan. After all, the military leader was dead and therefore had no further influence.
Ê Ê Ê Ê Most of the time, you know, Zlaya and Zloyevich probably had no thoughts of me whatsoever, but even when the topics turned, it was still as if I wasnÕt there. Relative to the speech, they discussed just when IÕd be playing. It was decided that Zlaya would announce our presence, then I would play, and the speech would come after. Zloyevich, however, brought up that perhaps heÕd better go over the pieces I was planning to play to be sure they conveyed only ÒacceptableÓ ideas. I said nothing and tried not to fidget any more than I do normally. Zlaya passed off ZloyevichÕs idea, saying that I wouldnÕt try anything funny if I knew what was good for me. That they were so incorrect, that they had no idea rather astonished me, but I was, of course, glad of that fact. I just sat back and listened as the topic still hovered around me. Zlaya complained her displeasure at the message and sound of my music; Zloyevich ranted on and on about how I expressed completely bogus ideals. Even for the pieces I wrote for Mtsensk, the ones deemed acceptable, there were complaints. Oh, these lyrics are good, Vsevolod, but ShostakÕs notes donÕt quite make a melody; This one ends softly, and I really donÕt like that; Shostak should really take assistance in his work, for they would be worlds better then. I was completely invisible to them; one doesnÕt noticed the pained and insulted expression on an invisible face.
Ê Ê Ê Ê IÕm not certain how the parties from Mtsensk managed to get inside Redwall previously. The time I went, I think, had something to do with RaikhÕs secretly supporting my cause. ItÕs the times that Zlaya went on her own that puzzle me. This time IÕm addressing now, we arrived at the abbey at night. I think that was part of the plan, so the soldiers could also come up in darkness. The dim lantern held by the walltop guardÑa squirrel this timeÑcouldnÕt cast that far of a light. But it did enough to illuminate our carriage on the path by the front gate.
Ê Ê Ê Ê Naturally, the squirrel was extremely hesitant to let the likes of three beasts in somewhat spangled Mtsensk dress uniforms into Redwall. IÕm still actually not certain why he did. Probably the famous Redwall hospitality kicking in, saying these travelers should have beds. I mean not to criticize such a wonderful reception, but IÕm certain it has and will again let destructive evil into the abbey. With my new piece, I deemed Zlaya checked, but she very well could have been destructive. That worried me then, and it still worries me now, though I know the outcome.Ê Ê Ê Ê
Ê Ê Ê Ê There was still considerable activity in Great Hall despite the time of night. The flickering lanternlight cast a strange and new tone on the walls and the faces of the resident creatures. The room was still a comfort, but the lanterns illuminated in particular the eyes of the Redwallers, showing them to be focused on us. And it was not a very friendly glow, so to speak, but rather pinpoints of fierce concentration set off in sets of two. It was different, very different from the numerous fixed eyes I felt on my first trip to Redwall. That was at first a criticizing stare, but also a questioning one and not very threatening. Later, those turned to stares of admiration for meÑa pressuring but tolerable sort of stare. But that night I was there with Zlaya the stares cut and stung, making me very much want to shed my company and my uniform.
Ê Ê Ê Ê The four of usÑthat is, the squirrel, Zlaya, Zloyevich, and IÑwere intercepted by a mole, apparently also a guard. He had a few words with the squirrel, then turned to Zlaya and Zloyevich, motioning for them to follow him. They actually did, without a sneer, and that surprised me, but I suppose that they had to keep up a good image (as if they ever had one) until their attack went off. IÕll assume they were led off to some sort of private room or area, one around which creatures were set up on close watch. I wondered why I wasnÕt put under similar surveillance (if that was the case with the other two); I think now that it was because the squirrel recognized me. Come to think of it, that recognition could have very well been a factor in his letting all of us into the abbey. He looked over my vile uniform with a disapproving eye, but he generally treated me with kindness and some sympathy; I think he knew I didnÕt want to be what I appeared. I was offered a stay in either the gatehouse again or to go upstairs to the regular dormitory. I paused to consider this: to go to the gatehouse would mean potentially waking up the old recorder, while I thought I might alarm the Redwallers in the dormitory by my species and uniform.
Ê Ê Ê Ê In the end, I told the squirrel IÕd figure something out and that he could go back to his post. He shrugged, probably wondering if I had any idea where anything was within the abbey, but he did go back like IÕd said, leaving me standing in Great Hall. Since weÕd arrived, the other creatures had left, and so I was alone. I paced up and down the length of the entire hall several times, my mind roiling with worries upon worries for the next day. So much depended on me playing well and with the right expressions. So much depended on me actually getting all the way through the piece. I couldnÕt be interrupted by the crowd; I couldnÕt let my emotions incapacitate me as theyÕre so wont to do in other cases. Perhaps should I practice? I looked at the keyboardÑit was moved to the corner of the hall when it wasnÕt in use. No, I decidedÑthat would be bad. It might wake some creature, or it might give something away too soon.
Ê Ê Ê Ê I sighed and lay down on the piano bench, gazing across the hall at the great tapestry, which was illuminated by moonlight rising through a stained glass window. I focused on the image until I fell asleep.