Chapter 3

I Make Life Soft

The gatehouse had not been tidy in nearly twenty seasons, thanks to its sole inhabitant and current recorder of Redwall, Brother Jacko. Despite being the son of a skipper—as he is quick to remind others—the otter had found his calling not in leadership or fighting, but in scholarship. The last three cohorts of Redwall dibbuns had been taught their letters by him. Not that they were ever really thankful for it. Literacy was not particularly useful to the vast majority of abbeydwellers once they were out of the abbey school.

On the eve of Byron's wedding, he wasn't present at Great Hall, to share in the high spirits. Nadine looked for him carefully among the great and varied horde of beasts supping there. The long tables overflowed with creatures she didn't know or hardly knew, and many more occupied the lawns outside, gathering round lanterns or fires in the cool twilight despite the impressive population of spring insects.

Guessing that the otter was still in the gatehouse, Nadine took him a tray from the kitchen: a pot of mint tea for the two of them, a salad of wild greens, and crusty bread with hotroot sauce. It was best to take him things that could last a while. Jacko could not be relied upon to eat anything in a reasonable amount of time-food became chilly or soggy waiting for him to finish a sentence, then a page, then a chapter. She tapped on the door before backing it open, and found him as usual bent over something on his table that was a mess of open scrolls and folios. Around him, upon the floor and on the shelves was much the same: a labyrinth of paper.

Every time a beast questioned him as to whether this was an appropriate way to store valuable records, he would reply that he was "reorganizing". He had been reorganizing for at least as long as Nadine had been alive.

"Evening," he said, without looking up. He squinted fiercely to read in the candlelight. Jacko was tall and narrow and had a permanent stooping posture. He could have been handsome as a youngbeast. But now, with a softening belly, he was beginning to blend in with the older ranks of Redwall's lay males, the ones that drank a little too much and whose children had children. The gatehouse aged a beast prematurely.

"Evening, Jacko," said Nadine. "Brought you supper."

She set the tray on one of the armchairs by the fire. Every other surface was cluttered. Having poured herself a cup of tea, she settled into the other armchair, pulled her aching feet up. She loved the gatehouse. It was always a quiet, if disharmonious, haven. For a brief time as a dibbun, she came here every day to train as Jacko's assistant. She couldn't recall why she stopped. She hadn't the patience for letters, she supposed. Perhaps she ought to have stuck with the job anyway. There was plenty of gilded romance to devour in the pages, and it was not a bad substitute for the real thing. It would have kept her out of trouble.

"I shall miss it, this gatehouse," she said. "I don't believe any other place in the Abbey is allowed to be so uniquely dysfunctional."

"You'll miss it?"

"Yes." Nadine sat up proudly. "You see, I'm leaving Redwall. For good. I'm going to go into Mossflower to start over, and find a life of my own."

"Ah. Because of Byron, is it?" Jacko gave her the kind of look that she despised, the kind that said he wasn't taking her seriously, that she was a child acting out. "A pity you don't get married first. The number of young mice out there is thin, I hear. There aren't many large settlements of mice in general. I can't even think of one off the top of my head. That's why they all end up here, at one point or another, if only to find a spouse. You'll be very lonely."

"Marriage," grumbled Nadine.

"I suppose the Guosim could adopt you," he pondered, as he came to the fire and poured himself some tea. "Or my uncle, the Skipper of the lower Moss. You'd have to learn to pull your weight, though. That's not a soft life."

At this, Nadine took a deep breath to contain herself. She found she could not. "A soft life? Now you listen here, Jacko Micklemere. You see your dinner there? I made it. I helped cook in the kitchens tonight. Tomorrow, I'm to get up at the crack of dawn to bake with the Friar-while you're still snoring-and then I'll scrub the breakfast dishes. After they put the tables up, I'm scrubbing the floor. Then we'll be sewing a border at the last minute onto the hem of that bride's stupid dress. Then I'm to go crawling through the gardens in the afternoon, to uproot a dozen baskets of emergency carrots and parsnips and onions for the feast, or else to mind unruly dibbuns while someone else does it! At the end of the day, I still have to show up to that ludicrous wedding looking fresh and carefree and festive." She got to her feet and jabbed him in the chest. "You, Sir, cannot even seem to look presentable—ever—despite being left alone all day to do whatever you want, and having all your meals served to you, and having your clothes made and washed and mended for you. I pull my weight. I earn my keep. Don't you talk to me about a soft life. I make life soft for you."

Jacko took a long sip of his tea to disguise whatever emotion was on his face. He cleared his throat. "Yes. Fine. I misspoke. Is that what you want to hear? Thank you for supper, my erstwhile pupil."

There was an icy pause. Nadine said, "I've not told anyone else. Just you. I want to go without anyone else knowing, after this wedding mess. I can't possibly leave now, or the others will resent me forever for dropping my share of work."

"So you are going? Really?"

"I am." Every time Nadine said it, she felt more sure.

Jacko gazed at her sad-eyed. "Why must you? There are many here who love you, you know."

"I am not sure they do. If you'd heard what they said to me earlier..."

"My dear, beasts talk about each other. They gossip. Sometimes they are cruel with their words. That's just a part of life. That does not mean they love you any less. You've been here since you were a pup. You're one of us."

"Do you remember my mother?" Nadine said.

Jacko looked at his feet.

"She was not one of us. A dishonorable beast. Unwed. They all think I'll end up like her. It's gotten so bad since Byron." Nadine shook her head. "I'll not hear any more argument. I'm going, and that's that."

She thought she saw evidence of a tear in the otter's eyes. For the life of her she did not know why she was so attached to this ungainly creature, but she would miss him deeply.

Suddenly, he said, "Did you know Sister Harriet is back?"

Nadine did not understand the change in conversation. "Oh. How nice."

"For the wedding," Jacko said, pointedly. "Knowing her, she'll be eager to get out into the field again after it's over."

His meaning dawned on her. "You think...I should go with her?"

"Indeed. She usually takes a companion or two. Why not? It would get you away from the Abbey, and in a much less, er, dramatic fashion than what you had in mind. Last I heard, she was exploring in the southern deserts or thereabouts. I was to go see her in the morning about translating something, but let's pay her a visit now, eh? I'll wager she's still up. Why, half the abbey will drink itself silly tonight, and she'll be among them..."

For the first time, Nadine felt true hope and excitement about the notion of getting out of Redwall. With the worldly Sister Harriet, she could travel to the most exotic places, have adventures, meet the dignitaries of strange lands. It was too good to be true. "Do you think she'd have me? Really? But she's a close friend of Bryon's, isn't she?"

A smirk spread across the otter's face. "I'll let you in on a secret, my dear. As hard as it is to believe, there are some beasts in this world for whom my friendship trumps Byron's."

Sister Harriet was fortunate to have a room to herself indoors. Many of Byron's veritable army of wedding guests were sleeping as a crowd in cavern hole, or even camped out on the lawns or outside the walls. When Nadine and Jacko arrived at the little dormitory room, bearing the night's second pot of tea, the squirrel was busy unpacking wonders from her trunk.

She showed Nadine a vase. It was cracked and faded, but the beautiful colors of it were still apparent: robin's egg blue and ochre and ivory-white. Intricate and ancient scenes of mouse maidens picking lilies and irises ran around it. Nadine turned it this way and that, enthralled by the lush figures prancing through the same task she had been doing earlier in the day. They seemed to be doing it with much greater significance.

"That's going to be my wedding gift to ol' Ronnie," Harriet said. "Not very functional anymore, but a lovely decorative piece. What do you think, my dear?"

Her dark eyes reflected the light of the candle in her lantern. She was dressed in a fine silk robe over her nightgown. No plain abbey robes for her, though she was technically a part of the order. Nadine didn't know how old the sophisticated squirrel was, only that she must be younger than Jacko, because she had once been his assistant as well.

Nadine replied, "It's amazing."

"It's from the desert?" Jacko inquired.

"Southsward. I cannot tell you how beautiful Southsward is. I rescued it from the ruins we found of a large building, a primitive castle maybe, a little northwards of the current palace."

"Admirable," said Jacko.

"Ready to see something a little more racy, Skip?" Harriet asked gleefully. It was her little joke, that nickname—Skipper of the Gatehouse.

Jacko shook his head. "Oh dear. I don't know if I have the strength."

Harriet pulled a wrapped parcel from the trunk. Delicately she began to undo the ties. "Now this one would be too grotesque a wedding present, I'm afraid."

Nadine gasped. It was a small statue of a corpulent female rat, breastfeeding a child. She took it from Harriet gingerly. The statue was cut artfully from some black stone, faceted, so that it was afire even in the dim candlelight. It was a glimpse into another world. Nadine thought there was wisdom in the thing's face. Dour, but gentle wisdom.

"Goodness," said Jacko disapprovingly.

"I found it in a cave, can you believe it?" Harriet said. "Also in Southsward, not far from those ruins. Just sitting there. I suppose, where there are goodbeasts, there must be vermin."

"Quite," said Nadine, passing the statue back. Her fingers felt grimy from it, and, perhaps subconsciously recalling the rat from earlier, she pulled his handkerchief out from her pocket and wiped her paws with it.

Harriet grabbed her wrist. "Nadine. Where did you get that?"

Nadine looked at it uncertainly for a moment, and then decided it was best to tell the truth in this situation. Harriet was an adventurous beast, after all. She wouldn't judge. "Erm. I got it off a rat."

"What?" Jacko sputtered. "My child! You consorted with vermin?"

"I did not consort, thank you. He attacked me today while we were out. I sort of got separated from the group...but I handled him! He ran away." Nadine watched Harriet gaze intently at the scrap of cloth, hold it up to the light. "Is it important?"

"Tartan," replied Harriet. "It came from the Northlands. This is excellent weaving. Unique colors. I've never seen blue and orange. It could very well have belonged to an important beast. I should like to see it in the sunlight, once I unpack my magnifying glass. Mind if I keep it?"

"Of course you can," replied Nadine. "I'm sorry, I didn't know that it was of value."

"Valuable things don't always look valuable at first. You should have seen that vase when I found it. You'll have to cultivate an eye for things, Nadine, if you're going to be my assistant."

"I will, Ma'am. I swear it."

"And tomorrow," Harriet went on, "Before the wedding, you will take me to where you saw this rat."

"No."

"No?" Harriet looked up from the cloth, a storm beginning to form in her eyes. Nadine was alarmed, but fought the urge to backpedal. Tomorrow could not be compromised.

"After the wedding, I can," Nadine said slowly. She had the impression of trying to talk down some great beast that was determined to drag her off. "I have too much to do tomorrow. Fully booked, me. Ha ha."

"But this is urgent," Harriet said smoothly. "That rat might not be around for long. If we wait another day, we may miss him. I am deeply curious to find out where this came from, you understand."

Nadine looked helplessly towards Jacko, hoping that he would perhaps offer to take on some of her work, so that she could have some time to spare. He merely stared back at her, waiting for her response to Harriet.

Jacko, as thick as ever, thought Nadine. It occurred to her that she could simply tell them where she had run into the rat, and leave them to go find him. But, that wouldn't do. This was too exciting. She had to be in the thick of things, herself. She had to go with Harriet.

"Alright," said Nadine. "Tomorrow, before noon. I'll get away somehow."

Author's Notes: A longer chapter this time. Thank you again for your reviews, Grey and Waycaster. They are much appreciated.