The Newcomer of Redwall

Book 1: The stranger (or Heaven, interrupted)

Chapter 5

--Foremole--

"Hurr, 'elp uffn's with thuis hurr food!" Foremole exclaimed to a group of adolescent squirrels, who snapped to attention and darted into the kitchens. This was not just any feast; this was a special feast, and everyone was on high tensions to make it just perfect. This feast was the naming of the new summer. All the naming feasts were high priority in the Abby's walls. Everything had to be exact, had to be perfect. From food to music, perfect. Feasts were, after all, a staple of the Abbey's history.

Along with wars…

Foremole frowned, wondering where that last thought had come from and shaking his head, deciding that any more thinking like that would have to wait until after the feast was finished.

--Matthias--

The mouse stood at his window, flexing his arm and wincing. It was still tender to move the joint, but time, as it often did, allowed the wound to heal better than expected (better, that is, with the extra time the nurses had made him stay.). He gazed over the grounds of the Abbey in much the same way Mortimer had earlier. His mind, as it had often done during the past few days, drifted back to the tare with the same questions (and, for that matter, answers) as before:

What was it?

Why, a tear in the fabric of reality itself, of course. Don't we see those everyday!
What was that…that place I saw through it?

Not sure, looked like some warped version of our land, though.

Yes, but what traversed it?

That last one was the toughest to answer. He knew that something had come through the tear, of course. Something like that had to have someone or something come through it. Unless it was an everyday thing, and he rather doubted that, as the gaping holes in existence surely would have been noticed by now. He also was quite sure that it was a someone instead of a something, as a something would have, more than likely, come through immediately.

So who, then? Some creature of that land he saw through the opening, probably. Which in itself opened up a thousand new possibilities. What did it look like? Was it good? Evil? Too twisted to have an alignment? Did it make that…portal? How was the portal even made? A random coincidence of time and space ripping a hole in itself? Something more sinister than that? Matthias was inclined to believe the latter; seasons knew that he had seen stranger things in his life.

But no, he hadn't.

He sighed softly, turning to leave the room. "This is…This is insane." He muttered, shutting the door.

"FOREMOLE!" Matthias's strong, powerful voice echoed over the courtyard to the digger, who stood up curtly from a table and trundled over to him, scraping dirt from his paws.

"Aye?" the mole asked, blinking up at the mouse.

Matthias looked over the mole's head at the picnic spread set out for lunch as the workers rested and said, "You and your 'dwellers are doing a fine job. This will certainly be the best feast yet."

Foremole laughed softly, a deep and warm sound, and replied, "Hurr, thank'ee surr, but Oi'm thinkun that you callered me overr for sumffun more than a compliment, surr."

Matthias nodded, always amazed by mole's perceptions. "Yes, you're right. I'm…Quite concerned."

The mole sat in a soft, shady spot of grass, and the mouse followed suit. "Hurr, what's ail'n you, surr?"

Matthias plucked a blade of grass, nibbled on it thoughtfully, and softly murmured, "Well…I don't know…"

Foremole leaned forward on his digging claws and asked, "Rurr, what wos that?"

Matthias raised his voice a little and said again, "I don't know. That's the problem!"

Foremole frowned, pushing his claws into the dirt (a comforting habit of Foremole). "Please, tell Oi wot you'rr tryun to say, surr."

Matthias chewed on the grass a bit more, and related to Foremole the story of the portal and Cornflower. "And now I'm afraid to go see her," he muttered at the end.

Foremole nodded sagely. "Oy. Oi'merr thinkun that's a real problum, surrr."

Matthias smiled sarcastically. "Oh, it gets better than that. I'm absolutely positive that something…Or someone came through that opening."

Foremole smiled back, directly into Matthias eyes, and asked simply, "Woy do you curr so much, rurr?"

Matthias' brow furrowed in thought. "It could be a danger to the Abbey, no?"

Foremole went on smiling and said softly, "Oi'm thinkun that it's sumffun else, surr." The mole stood and clattered his digging claws together, shaking the dirt from them. "Excuse Oi, but Oi've got a feast to prepare, surr." With that, he turned and left the dumbfounded mouse behind.

--Cornflower--

The evening sun shone red through the infirmary's windows with a crimson brilliance that played over Cornflower's softly sleeping features, lighting up her fur with a heavenly glow. The shadows beside the windows and in the corners were steadily growing as she stirred. Her eyes fluttered open, taking in her surroundings with quiet reassurance. She had known she was in the Abbey. She did not know where in the Abbey, nor how she knew her location in the first place, but she could guess that she was in the medical area, due to the fact that her bed was unfamiliar and the room contained no personal accents of a lived-in area.

She let her headrest back against the pillow as she thought over what had happened. The last thing she could remember was getting hit in the small of her back by something huge and heavy, her spine popping loudly in her ears as her head cracked loudly against the hard dirt road…

She shivered, cupping her paw over the lump the impact had given her. She sat up and swung her legs over the edge of the bed and then winced, putting a delicate paw on her lower back. For the past several seasons, the rains and cold air had caused that particular part of her body to grow sore, as well as a few aches and pains in the joints of her paws, and the little spat with the…whatever that had hit her hadn't helped at all.

A small smile crossed her features; I sound like my Grandmother! She thought in humored exasperation. Cornflower rested her weight on her footpaws for the first time in…four days? A week? Even a month, maybe? She wasn't sure, but as she stood, she guessed that it couldn't have been more than a few days, as her legs came back to life fairly easily. She staggered a bit as she walked to her window, gazing through it at nothing in particular, thinking of how happy her Matti would be to see her up and about, and how see would see her grandchildren, and…

Cornflower started awake with a tiny gasp. Asleep again?! What's wrong with me? I have to get May and…

Her thoughts were interrupted suddenly by a terrible smell. It was pungent and awful, wafting from the back shadows that had grown in her mind's absence. She covered her nose and blinked several times, murmuring, "What a stink!"

She stumbled, trying to breathe through her mouth, but even then she could taste it, and it was horrible, like rotten fruit and swampland. Images floated through her mind as the smell permeated her very skull, eating into her thoughts like acid, horrifying pictures floating through her brain. Death, mutilated corpses, chunks of meat left after the wolf was finished, dried husks of bodies left strewn about under a glistening web of…hair? Or metal? Something…

She felt his powerful paw on her shoulder, and she whirled and saw him, saw the wolf. Cornflower stumbled back, from the hideous, diseased thing, who spun the very shadows into his web, wrapping it around her muzzle and silencing her. She fell back against the wall, trying to scream but having it silenced by the astoundingly strong webbing.

His lips parted in a smile, exposing serrated teeth of thick bone and a sick, swollen black tongue, his breath hot and ripe with fetor as he spoke, whispering, "Don't fret, little mouse. You are not a sacrifice to the goddess, nor are you a meal for me. You, beautiful victim, are simply a warning. Now, this will only hurt a little…"

His claws, encrusted with dirt and dried blood, green with disease, sliced her flesh open easily, and she could feel herself as the wolf's infection spread through her, hot and painful as the disease migrated towards her spine and brain. The whole thing was over in a matter of seconds. The dark wolf took a step back, catching the mouse as she slipped into sleep. He easily brushed away the silken black webs and picked her up laying her gently on the bed. His fingers, horribly long and freakishly thin, toyed with one of the metal rings that pierced his body, a homage to his goddess, for his was a belief of pain and power, that one would always come from the other. He stepped back into the shadows and disappearing into his native darkness.

--Abbot Mortimer--

Mortimer faced a problem. A very, very serious problem. Cornflower had just been reported as having a powerful fever and Matthias didn't know about it yet. The creature…No, Simon, was being shuttled like some common criminal. And, on top of it all, the feast was less than a day away. Mortimer chewed on one of his claws nervously, trying to think.

"Maybe…no…but maybe if…no, that won't help either…" He sighed heavily. It was not the immediate problems that worried him, it was the aftermath. The tension of a feast's preparation was bad by itself, but add onto that that Simon's presence and Cornflower to worry about…things could just spill over.

Mortimer shoved open his door bleakly, walking down through the hallways and passages, outside into the orchard and warm night air. He sat heavily at the edge of the pond and closed his eyes, brushing his ears back with an absent paw. He looked glumly at the moon's reflection in the pond, clear and bright in the summer night.

"It's pretty."

Mortimer started, hopping awkwardly to his feet in instinctive fear, almost stumbling backwards into the pond. He peered at the dark shape concealed by the shadows of the trees. The shadow moved forward, sitting next to the mouse and falling onto its back, looking upward. "Relax." Simon said simply, then turned his head to look at the Abbot and smiled. "You're a little jumpy, aren't you?"

Mortimer nodded, almost in shame, sitting back down at the water's edge. Simon turned his attention back to the clear, full night sky. "You know," the curious creature started softly, so softly that Mortimer had to strain to hear him, "Back in my home, there were never this many stars. You could never see such a clear moon at night. I suppose that this is pretty much a normal thing for you guys, but for me it's rather interesting. Your constellations are completely different from my world's." He paused thoughtfully, and added, "If you even have astrology. I suppose not."

Mortimer looked over at Simon quietly for a few minutes, then replied, "Well…we do, but it's not something I know too much about."

Simon closed his eyes and smiled again, then nodded, murmuring, "Understandable."

Mortimer looked back at the silently rippling water, strangely uncomfortable. What was it about this creature that made him so uneasy? He had always been comfortable around crowds and strangers, but this newcomer was just…beyond him. He mused over his thoughts for a spell, before glancing over at Simon again and realizing that he had been totally silent. Mortimer reached slowly over, his fingertips trembling inexplicably. His digits were right next to Simon's head when the human's hand flashed out and gripped the mouse's wrist, crushing the bone as his eyes opened. Mortimer uttered a startled yelp, trying to pull away and getting halted by Simon's grip. The human relaxed the savage grip slowly, finally releasing the Abbot's paw.

Mortimer looked at Simon for an explanation, but he only shrugged and uttered, "I'm kind of high-strung, too." He became somewhat relaxed again and asked, "What are you going to do about Cornflower? She's really sick."

Mortimer shook his head, saying, "I don't know. Tell Matthias and let the infirmary staff take care of her. That's all I really can do."

Simon got to his feet and dusted himself off. "And what about the wolf? What are you going to do about him?"

Mortimer blinked in surprise. "Wolf?" He said, turning to look at the human…But Simon had already vanished into the shadows. "What wolf?" He asked the darkness.

Mortimer did not sleep well that night.

--Sister May--

Matthias gazed at the female mouse. "What?" He asked her in barely hidden astonishment.

She glanced down at the floor and said again, "Cornflower is ill…I mean…She's terribly sick, Matthias…she's got a fever so high it's steaming the cloths on her brow, and…and I think she's slipping into a coma…"

Matthias stepped towards her, intent on passing her to get into the infirmary, but May stepped in front of him. "Matthias, no. Don't go see her. She's highly contagious. She's already made three of the sisters ill with fever." Matthias clasped her shoulders tightly, glaring at her hatefully…then…slowly…the hatred turned into sorrow…he let go of her shoulders and stepped backwards, turning and stumbling away from her in mute emotional numbness. She raised her paw and took a step after him…but stopped. It wouldn't do any good. All the harm had been done.

Matthias was already infected.

The wolf's sickness was spreading.