The Newcomer of Redwall

Book 1: The Stranger (or Heaven, interrupted)

Chapter 4

Jess

She hummed quietly to herself, pushing open the door to its room, holding a platter of food from lunch. Her eyes were closed, imagining what color his eyes were, thinking they'd be a nice shade of green, or maybe some pretty shade of blue, yes, blue, definantly. Her back was turned to the bed, putting the rectangle of metal on the table. They had heard him wake up earlier, but they were daunted by the screams. When they finally got someone to check, he was asleep again. They (They being Auma, Jess, Amelia, and Sam) had thought to leave him a plate of food. "After all," Auma had said standing next to the door, "He hasn't eaten in almost two days." So here she was now, feeling rather silly to give a sleeping creature food, but she supposed she could give it to Rollo if he didn't wake up before sundown.

"Hmmmmmm."

She froze, her spine stiffening, as someone grabbed the end of her tail and started pawing through it. She shrieked in surprise and embarrassment, whirling and slapping her assailant smartly across the cheek, her dewclaws leaving shallow scratches.

The creature stepped back, more surprised than hurt, covering the rapidly reddening wound. "Hey! Ow!" He yelped, rubbing the side of his face tenderly. He pursed his lips, and Jess could see that she had been wrong, his eyes were an oddly pleasing shade of orange. "You're real!" He blurted, sounding relieved. She tilted her head, confused and uncertain, saying, "Well, yes…Of course I'm real." He nodded, grinning. "Good, good. At least I know I'm not crazier than I was before. Oh, and sorry about your tail." He looked around the room slowly. "Hey, um…You're a squirrel, right?" She gazed up at him, nodding slowly. "Yes. Jess, Jess Squirrel. How did you know that?"

He glanced at the food behind her and politely stepped past, grabbing a whole loaf of bread and tearing off a chuck, eating ravenously, finishing what would take three mice to eat in less than a minute. He smiled, satisfied, at least for the moment. "Wherever this is, y'all make a good loaf of bread." He picked at the other foods, sampling them in earnest. She took a cautious step towards him, reaching out and putting her paw on his shoulder. He turned, gnawing on a pear. "Yes?" He said around it. "Well," She started, hesitant, "You know who and what I am, now who and what are YOU?" Simon took a step back and said, "I am Simon Gilnom. I am a human, come from the magically delicious land called Georgia." She blinked at him. "Magically….delicious?" She asked, a bit taken aback. He waved the pear as if to brush away the statement. "Never mind. Where am I?" Jess smiled. "Ah. We are in Redwall Abbey. The infirmary, specifically." He touched the scar on his forehead, oddly faint for a wound so fresh, and asked, "For this?" She shook her head. "No. You've been unconscious for just over two days, Simon. We were afraid you were in a coma."

They both turned as the door opened and a large striped nose poked through, the voice behind it asking, "Is he awake?" The door opened fully, and the huge female badger stepped in, suprisingly graceful for her size. Seeing Simon vertical, she stepped over to him and took his hand in her paw. "You're awake." She said happily. He nodded. "Yeah….That I am, ma'am."

"He's a human, Auma." Jess said from behind the badger. Auma stepped back, cupping her chin in her paw and saying, "Human? Looks more hairless to me." Simon crossed his arms over his bare chest. "I'd prefer to be referred to as Simon, thank you. Who are you, anyway?" Auma smiled gently. "I am Auma, daughter of Orlando the Axe." Simon nodded. "Well, that's good. If I could have a few minutes to myself, ladies, I'd really enjoy putting on something more than these pants." This said, the two females walked from the room to report Simon's condition to Mortimer.

Simon Gilnom

"Well?"

Simon, curled up on the bed and looking at the door, glanced over at Ross and answered his question with one of his own, "Well what?"

Ross picked up the machete and fiddled with it, running his fingers along the cutting edge, drawing blood. They both bit their lower lips and winced simultaneously. Ross recovered, shaking the blood from his fingertip, saying "Well, what do you think of those two?" Simon's eyes darted, watching the crimson droplets intently. "They're not what I expected." Ross snickered, then chuckled, then threw his head back and laughed. Simon smiled silently, almost happy to see his twin laughing at something, sharing a rare moment of mutual joy. When he recovered, Ross said, "What the hell did you expect, Howie?"

Simon laid back against the wall behind the bed, musing. "Well…" He started, choosing his words carefully, "It's not…The worst thing that could happen, but I'm pretty sure we're not on the same great green satellite we started out on." Ross tossed the blade aside casually and said, "It makes sense…But at the same time, it doesn't. This is quite an odd situation we're in." They let the air settle into a gentle silence, allowing the statement to hang between them.

Simon hopped from the bed, the sheets were getting far too hot for his liking, grabbing the clothes left for him. "Shit," He muttered, fumbling with the robes as Ross snickered in the background, "what's with these clothes?" Finally getting the fabric in some sort of order on his body, he turned to Ross, shouldered his pack, and said simply, "Let's go."

Ross, clearly surprised, said, "Go? Go where?" Simon brushed past Ross, reaching for the door. "Out of here. Frankly, seeing furries living and talking is rather scaring me." Ross put his hand on Simon's shoulder and asked, "Are you sure?" Simon stopped, stood stock-still. Ross asked again, "Are you sure?" Several frozen forever minutes passed before Simon murmured, "No." Ross enforced his point, "You're a wanted killer back there. You've got no friends, no allies, just me for family, and no money. You were barely hanging on back home. Is this place really so bad, Howie?" The corner of Simon's mouth turned up in a small smirk. "You make a good point." He said, tossing the backpack aside, "You know, for a homicidal asshole." Ross grinned back and shoved his brother's chest. "Shut up."

Abbot Mortimer

The Abbot looked out over the tranquil Abbey, smiling to himself. "This Abbot stuff isn't too bad sometimes," he said to the afternoon. He sat in a chair in his quarters, the large window giving him ample view of his domain. His face, once tight-skinned and full of youth, the fur groomed meticulously, almost to a shine, was starting to show signs of his age and the stress he was almost constantly under. His face was a bit more slack these days, and his fur was beginning to go dull and gray. He sighed, reaching up and rolling a whisker between his fingertips, a habit he had started soon after the whiskers themselves had begun to loose their strength and droop. His thoughts turned to the mice and the creature in the infirmary. "What to do, what to do." He muttered, getting out of his chair and putting his paw against the glass. Well, He thought, there's only one thing to do, of course. He shook his head. It was his duty to see any possible threat to his abbey, but still, first contact with a completely unheard-of species was a little above him! He shook himself, what a child he sounded like! Why, he was the abbot, for season's sake. It was his job, he should do it, and he should do it well. Having had this mental pep talk, he squared his shoulders and strode down to the infirmary, fully confident of himself.

Mortimer paused as his paw touched the doorknob. He could hear two muffled voices inside the room. Maybe I should just wait for Simon's guest to leave, he thought, then countered that with, although I'm sure he won't mind if I just stroll in. He gripped the knob and pushed the door open. Simon sat at the edge of the bed, his tone showing that he was right at the end of a sentence, the ending being, "And I don't think that you're—" He stopped and looked over at the Abbot, ending his previous statement by exclaiming, "—another mouse!" Mortimer frowned, looking around the door to see whom Simon was talking to and noticing the few blood droplets on the wall, but realizing that the room was otherwise empty.

He stepped in, obviously confused. Simon stood and walked over to the Abbot, asking, "Where are Jess and Auma? Better, who exactly are you, sir?" Mortimer moved into the room completely, shutting the door behind him and marveling how odd this…this human from. He said, "I am Mortimer, Abbot of Redwall." He stopped for a second, then added, "You are Simon Gilnom, a human from the…magically delicious land of Georgia." Simon covered his eyes with his hand and responded, "Yeah. That's the place, sir." He cackled. Mortimer took an unconscious step back. Simon snapped his fingers and swung his arms, clapping his hands behind his back. "Okay, what do you need?"

The Abbot seated himself in a chair across the room from the bed. "It seems that you are a temporary addition to our Abbey, at least until you get home, so I have a dilemma. I can't keep you cooped up in the infirmary, and I can't ferret you around the abbey, that would be just bizarre. So, I propose we introduce you to the rest of the Abbey at the feast tomorrow." Simon glanced up from fiddling with his rope belt at the end of the sentence. "Feast, huh?" He said, then blinked as if a thought had suddenly occurred to him. "Abbot, sir, I know there are mice, squirrels, and badgers here, but are there any…Other species I should know of?" Mortimer nodded, saying, "The moles and the bankvoles. And the shrews, but they are outside out walls." And so it went, for at least an hour, Simon asking questions about the abbey, and Mortimer responding to them. Then, for another hour after that, the reverse occurred, with Simon telling Mortimer an (abbreviated) biography.

-unknown-

Far away, to the north, there was a fourth occupant to the room. The wolf, his eyes closed and his power radiating, listened with empty ears and saw with endless eyes the human and his twin, talking to the Abbot of the place called Redwall. The wolf knew about the human, knew everything, all the strengths and weaknesses, his love for his sister and his hate for his brother. His fondness for red meats. All the grades he ever got. His conscious wants and unconscious desires. The wolf smiled, pulling himself back, standing and walking from his tent. It was time to move.