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Mitchel yawned supremely as he put down the scour that he was scrubbing the infirmary floor with. Rolling his eyes, he sat down on the cold marble floor that radiated cleanness and coolness, rubbing his sore knees and paws. "Shaw, this is stupid," he muttered. "Who knew Mother Tuloo would get so mad at some silly joke?"

His accomplice, a pretty squirrelmaid, grinned and took a seat beside the lean and well-built mouse. "Ah, don't kid yourself, Mitch. You knew Tuloo would get mad about that, or else you wouldn't have tried lying to her. You're a pretty pathetic liar too, you know."

The handsome mouse stuck out his chin. "And you could have told a better one, Trenn?"

Trenn giggled and fluttered her eyelashes, preening her shiny red-gold fur. "Of course. Everyone would believe the fawning squirrelmaid."

Mitchel snorted. "You think that you could get away with tying three of the Abbey Elders together by their habit strings and watching them trip down the stairs? C'mon, even you know that we didn't mean them to fall like that…Brother Gort twisted his ankle awfully bad, and he won't be able to walk without a crutch for two weeks."

Trenn shrugged uncomfortably. "You said it already—we didn't mean for that to happen. We just thought it'd be funny for them to wake up and to find themselves all tangled up together. That's all. The idea was quite harmless, really!" she protested defensively.

Mitchel tried to free himself from guilt with this heartening thought, but it didn't work. "D'ya ever wonder if we're getting a bit too old for these jokes?" he asked. "I mean, we'll both be seventeen seasons old in a few days…only a day, in your case, and perhaps we should start acting more grown-up…"

Trenn sighed. "I don't wanna grow up," she pouted. "Soon, we'll all be old and stiff anyways. If we don't have fun, what's the point of living? Abbeylife is quite a bore, if you ask me."

Mitchel nodded, agreeing to his friend's statement. "Abbeylife is for oldsters and Dibbuns. No one with a imagination or a sense of action lives in an Abbey."

"Skipper does," chimed Trenn. "And he's strong and active. And so does half of his otter crew."

"Aye, that's right, but they also leave the Abbey for about half a season each year to spend time with their tribe and to host their yearly fishing events. If I could get away from the Abbey for half a season each year, it would be good enough for me."

Trenn got up again, dusting her paws. "I suppose you're right, but what can we do? Run away? That might be fun," she added thoughtfully.

"Run away?" snapped Mitchel, disgusted. "Do you realize that we're two teenage Abbeybeasts with limited knowledge of using weapons and nearly no knowledge of any land half a mile away from Redwall? We'd get lost, killed, or kidnapped, and then we'd get ransomed or something stupid like that. "

"If we ran away and got murdered, perhaps the Abbot and Mother Tuloo and all those other old snuffleheads would be sorry then!" retorted Trenn indignantly. "You really think we'd be that hopeless on our own, Mitch? You're one of the best dagger throwers in the Abbey, even Skipper admitted that! And I'm not bad with a bow, you know."

"Considering that our Abbey is full of…" he lowered his voice vindictively, "…silly oldsters or country bumpkins, that's not saying much."

"Some are okay," said Trenn slowly. "Like Sancha, she's nice, and so is Pierre."

"Pierre and Sancha are 'okay' because they're our age and understand what it's like to be cooped up in a boring Abbey! And they're still not as adventurous in spirit as we are!" snapped Mitchel. "Perhaps you have a point…maybe we should run away. I don't really mind being killed as long as I've experienced a bit of adventure before I die!"

"Attaboy!" said Trenn enthusiastically. "When are we leaving? Soon?" she asked hopefully. "I can sneak out now and grab some supplies, and then we can be on our jolly ole way! Maybe the Guosim would let us borrow one of their boats when we reach the sea, and then we can sail far away from this place. Just think, we could be pirates or ravishing buckaroos!"

"Nah, I think we should plan this out better, Trenn. This is a big decision we're making here," said Mitchel. "I think we should wait a few days, or even a week or so. We have to make sure we bring food, weapons, a few traveling cloaks, and perhaps we need to nick a few things incase we need to trade it for the boat we're going to get."

"Steal some things? Like what?" asked Trenn. "But I suppose you're right, no one will give us a boat for free."

"Well, you know," said Mitchel casually. "We'll take some nice silverware the Friar's got hidden up for special occasions, and then there's that nice jade vase in the gatehouse. And some of the Sisters have a few petty beads and trinkets that could be worth something. Oh, we'll find nice things to repay them when we finally come back," he said hastily, as Trenn goggled at him.

"We can't steal," she said firmly. "That's not the way we are! I'm willing to sacrifice some of my nice things though, and you can sacrifice your new belt and fancy dagger. You can use your old dagger instead."

"And what are you going to give up?" replied her friend haughtily.

"I've got two decent pawbracelets, a pretty carved tailring and several nice silk sashes that might be fanciful," said Trenn with a wave of her paw. "It might not buy us a boat, but we could always tell the whomever we're getting it from that we'll return it when we come back. And if it happens that the boat gets damaged on our voyage, we'll find some way to pay that back when the time comes. Besides," she said skeptically, "why are we worrying about getting a boat already, when the sea's at least half a score days away? We have plenty of walking and hiking to do before we need to goggle over a boat."

"I'm preparing," said Mitchel wisely. "But I agree, we won't steal anything from the Sisters and Brothers. It would only give them more reason to hunt us back."

"We'll have to leave in the dead of night, so that no one will be able to discover we're missing until hours and hours later," added Trenn. "You know Tuloo, she'd come get us back herself."

Mitchel grinned. "And whack our tails like how she did when we were Dibbuns."

"So, the plan is on?" said Trenn, raising her eyebrows and holding out a slim paw.

Mitchel took it and shook paws with her, smirking. "You bet, my dear treewalloper! We won't be stuck in this Abbey for long!"

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

In the sunny orchards of Redwall Abbey, Father Abbot Porter, Mother Tuloo and the newly crippled Brother Gort were discussing about the two most rambunctious Abbey beasts, young Trenn and Mitchel.

"They're young; they'll grow out of it," assured Abbot Porter wisely. "I'm sure once they've scrubbed that infirmary clean, and then scrubbed down the kitchens as well, they'll be sure to stay away from trouble for a while," he said, buttering a hot scone. "Mmm, delicious!" he added, taking a bite of the warm biscuit.

Mother Tuloo, a great female badger with handsome hazel-colored eyes snorted. "You think so, Abbot? Those two rips have caused more trouble than all the other beasts combined! They never learn, no sir! You remember two seasons ago? They painted all the Sister's faces when they were sleeping, and then covered all the Brothers with feathers. Then, last season, when they dug a ditch in right outside the Abbey entrance when they new we were expecting visitors from Salamandastron? Colonel Groon swears his footpaw has never been the same after that fall. And then, this season, with that ridiculous falling down the stairs business with you and Sister and Brother Gort! Each time they got punished, Abbot, and never have they learned!"

"Well, what do you suppose we do?" asked Brother Gort, wincing as Tuloo shifted slightly, trodding on his twisted paw. "Careful please!"

Tuloo straightened back up, smiling apologetically. "Sorry, Brother. Well, I'm not quite sure what we're suppose to do with those young'uns, but I think what they need is something to do. If they had something constructive to do, they wouldn't be wasting their time thinking up these silly tricks."

"What job could possibly occupy the interests of two adventures teenaged jokesters like those two? They would find no interest in being assistant cooks or scribes, and they're far too old to find bell-ringing exciting," sighed the Abbot. "They want adventure, because they don't realize how dangerous and scary the real world can be. They think it is all adventure, and no consequences."

"Well…"began Mother Tuloo slowly. "I have an idea. I have made a bejeweled silver scepter for the Lord of Salamandastron, Lord Silverspike. He is a good friend of mine, and I would love for him to take this gift as a sign of continuing friendship. We could have it so that Trenn, Mitchel, and two of Skipper's strong seasoned otters could bring this scepter to Salamandastron for me. It would be an exciting experience for Trenn and Mitch, and we could sleep freely knowing that Skipper's otters are there to protect them from real harm."

"Brilliant plan, Tuloo!" agreed Brother Gort. "And I could sleep even better knowing that I won't wake up with tar and feathers all over my face! Bravo!" he said heartily.

Abbot Porter hesitated for a few seconds, then nodded slowly. "I suppose that might solve the problem, at least for a while. Maybe then Mitchel and Trenn will learn to appreciate Abbeylife, after they've lived on stale scones and sleeping on the hard floor for a while."

Brother Gort laughed. "Do you think so, Abbot? Personally, I doubt they'll change a bit, but it'd still be nice to be rid of them for a season. And…do you suppose Lord Silverspike would let them run around with the Long Patrol for another season or two? That would certainly be a blessing."

"Aye, and perhaps he could beat a little discipline into them too," agreed Mother Tuloo heartily. "It's settled then. I suppose we'll tell Trenn and Mitchel when they both turn seventeen seasons…that's a reasonable age for adventure. So, in about half a score of days, they can begin their journey. They should be pleased—what a birthday surprise for them!"

"Yes, that sounds about right," said Abbot Porter amiably. "That'll let them take part in the Summer Feast right before they leave, which might be enough to make them regret leaving the Abbey…after all, there are no cooks like the cooks of Redwall!"

Brother Gort chortled, scratching his headspikes. "They'd give up scones and meadowcream any season for a taste of adventure, Abbot. Don't you remember when you were young and reckless like them? I don't blame them for being naughty, I just think they've gone a bit far…"

Porter grinned sheepishly, his tail twitching awkwardly. "Actually, Brother, I've never been reckless like those two…I've always been quite the average, quiet sort of mouse, you know. Never taken to running about screaming and tar and feathering beasts, really."

Mother Tuloo snorted. "That's what a Father Abbot must say, I suppose, but I've heard tales about your childhood, Abbot, and others don't seem to share the exact same views as you do on your childhood. They seemed to think that you enjoyed stealing the Friar's pies, removing their fillings, and refilling them with hotroot pepper instead. Does that sound like a familiar joke to you, Abbot?"

Abbot Porter flushed and shrugged. "Ah, well, an Abbot's got to have a bit of fun," he said, smiling complacently, as Brother Gort howled with laughter. "And I'll remind you, Brother Gort, that you weren't such a polite little Dibbun either! Remember what you did to Sister Sari's scarves?"

"Never said I was a polite Dibbun, no sir!" giggled Brother Gort in a childlike way. "I was a troublemaker, I'll admit! But not as troublesome as Mother Tuloo, you can imagine. Think of a great badger like her playing tricks on little mice and squirrels and sorts!"

The three friends laughed at the thought of the respectable Mother tying the tails of Abbey mice together. Finally, Mother Tuloo stood up, dusting off her paws and stretching in the warm sunlight.

"I think I'll go check on those two troublemakers now, if you don't mind, Porter. I've got a suspicion that they've done nothing but collect dust during that time they were supposed to be cleaning the infirmary."

Her two friends nodded and Tuloo made her way to the Abbey infirmary, swinging open the infirmary door to reveal a sparklingly clean room.

"Trenn, Mitchel!" she exclaimed. "Did you really clean all this?"

"How else do you suppose it got so clean?" muttered Trenn. "Rooms don't clean themselves, marm!"

Tuloo ignored this smart comment and instead walked around the infirmary, inspecting the floors and neatly made beds. "Well, you did a good job!" she agreed. "It just proves that you can do something if you put your hearts into it, you two!"

Mitchel and Trenn made faces behind Tuloo's back and she continued to lecture them.

"If you put your minds and efforts into doing nice things for everyone, you wouldn't get into all this trouble, you know. Just think, if you two were good once in a while, then maybe you'd get punished less and rewarded more. Come now, is it really that fun to cause trouble and watch other beasts get hurt? Of course not!" she said severely, turning around swiftly to look at the squirrelmaid and young mouse, who froze, their faces still distorted in funny positions.

"Can we go now? Marm?" pleaded Trenn, straightening up quickly. "We did a good job, you said it yourself!"

"Indeed, and now you can do a good job to the kitchen by scrubbing it down as well," replied the Mother serenely. "You don't think I'd drop punishment for two disasters like you, do you?"

Trenn and Mitchel muttered darkly, but said nothing. Mother Tuloo gazed at them for a few seconds before saying kindly, "I have a good news for you—a special treat that I'll be telling you about in a few days. You'll enjoy it, I'm sure. It's a wonderful surprise."

With that, she stalked out of the infirmary, leaving the two young ones looking at each other, nonplussed.

"A treat? A surprise?" exclaimed Trenn, disgusted. "Do you think she promoted us to assistant Recorder and assistant Friar or something? We'd better get out of here as soon as possible!"

Mitchel nodded fervently. "Tuloo's treats aren't exactly as good as she says they are," he said bitterly. "It's probably that we get to clean all the Abbey walls or something. Let's get planning right away, because I'm not staying in this Abbey a minute longer than I have to!"

"Treat or no treat," agreed Trenn.