CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
"Aren't you at all worried about everything that's going on?" Trelayne asked Mona as they sat upon Foxguard's curved walltop, enjoying a light afternoon meal along with Kyslith and Roxroy. "With the tensions between Tolar and Custis, and the rats at Redwall?"
"Why should I be?" the vixen replied, nibbling at a simple mushroom and leek pastie. "Foxguard and the Gawtrybe are allies in a greater cause, so there can be no real strife between them. And it appears violence and bloodshed has been avoided at the Abbey, at least as far as we can tell. I'm sure any disagreements between these various parties will be worked out to everybeast's satisfaction, in good time."
"I'm not so sure about that, ma'am," Roxroy begged to differ. "The Redwallers might not agree with the campaign Lord Urthblood has ordered. And if they don't agree with it, there's a chance they might oppose it."
"I'd say they already are," opined Kyslith, "if they've taken in all those rats who went there. I wonder what Lieutenant Custis intends to do about it?"
"More like what Lord Urthblood plans to do about it," said Mona. "Now that Klystra is on the scene, Custis will be able to get his orders directly from Salamandastron, without trying to guess what Lord Urthblood might prefer that he do."
"Needless to say," Trelayne admitted, "Kyslith and I knew about this campaign while we were staying at Redwall, since we were after all working at the mountain when the Accord was finalized, and were on paw to witness the delivery of Lord Urthblood's rats stationed there over to Tratton's ships. There were very mixed feelings that day amongst the other armybeasts, and I imagined the Redwallers might hold equally mixed feelings about this matter, as now seems to have been proven. I really wasn't comfortable keeping such a thing from my gracious hosts, but since they never questioned me directly, I never had to outright lie about it either, but still ... "
"I can relate to that," said Roxroy. "The Redwallers have become friends of mine - Winokur in particular - and all I can say is, I'm glad we've not had occasion to visit the Abbey since Klystra first informed us of this upcoming campaign earlier this season. I'd not have been able to look anybeast there in the eye, had I known of this and been forbidden to speak of it to them."
"Then again," Trelayne countered, "we couldn't know for certain that the Redwallers would be upset over all this. I mean, it is rats we're talking about here, after all. I imagine some of those Abbeyfolk might almost welcome their removal from Mossflower. It's not a species they'd normally look upon favorably - especially after what I heard happened during Lord Urthblood's first visit to Redwall, summer before last."
"That's not the way they think," Roxroy sharply corrected the marten glassmaker. "They are good-hearted, and open-minded, and would never condemn an entire species based on the misdeeds of a few."
"It would seem you are correct in that assessment, my young friend, to judge by all the rats they've just taken in," Trelayne conceded. "And I still cannot see how this will not cause frictions between Lord Urthblood and Redwall, and create complications for us here ... or why everybeast here shouldn't be concerned about the current state of affairs." He directed this last toward Mona.
"I am Foxguard's healer. Not only does that mean I expect to play no direct role in this campaign, but that too many creatures depend on my skills for any of them to risk antagonizing me. That holds true for my fellow foxes, the squirrels of the Gawtrybe, and the Redwallers as well. So I personally expect no grief from any quarter - nor will I tolerate it."
"The Gawtrybe have healers of their own," Trelayne pointed out. "They would not be entirely dependent on you for such needs, should Custis's misplaced ire toward Tolar continue unabated."
"Sappakit alone is worth any ten Gawtrybe healers," Mona scoffed.
"And you're worth ten Sappakits," Roxroy admiringly told Mona.
"Thank you, Rox. But the plain truth is, I do not see anything dire coming of any of this, now that the moment of crisis has apparently passed. If any Redwallers or their allies had lost their lives, then it would be an entirely different matter, but since they haven't ... "
"We still don't know that for certain," said Trelayne with a furrowed brow of worry.
"We've seen no signs of fighting in or around the Abbey, and our latest observations from the high watch indicate the rats are indeed inside Redwall. It fully appears Custis arrived too late to engage them, or the Redwallers. As I said, crisis averted - if only narrowly."
"That was still awfully brash of the lieutenant to go racing off to Redwall with confrontation in mind, in spite of our Sword's warnings," said Roxroy. "And if he feels strongly enough that Redwall broke Lord Urthblood's mandate by giving sanctuary to those rats, he might still seek some strategy to try to force them out."
"That's my fear as well," Trelayne agreed. "Not only is the lieutenant very zealous in his assigned duties, but can Lord Urthblood afford to let so many rats escape this Purge of his, right in the heart of Mossflower?"
"Only that badger can decide that," Mona allowed. "But I cannot see open conflict with Redwall as an option, no matter how many rats they have taken in. If Lord Urthblood wants them out, I suspect he will engage in aggressive negotiations, but stop short of any military action - and Klystra will make sure Lord Urthblood's wishes are known to Custis ... and to us, for that matter."
"I just hope the lieutenant has cooled down a bit when he comes back to Foxguard," Roxroy said. "He was awfully hot under the collar when he stormed off, and being denied his prize might not improve his disposition any."
"He might not even return here at all," Mona reminded her companions. "The only reason Klystra came to us this morning was to guide the Gawtrybe to the site chosen for Gawdrey. It could be that he'll lead them directly there from Redwall."
"Not likely, my dear." Trelayne gestured down at the Gawtrybe carts parked in the courtyard. "They'll not be building their woodland fortress without their tools and supplies. They'll have to return here, if only briefly, whether they want to or not."
"Good point," Mona conceded.
The marten leaned back against the low battlement wall, taking up his flask of cool river water. "I suppose your outlook is best, Mona my child. These things are beyond our control for the moment, and we've naught to gain by fretting about the worst that might happen, so we may as well hope that all will work out for the best. It's far too beautiful a day to let clouds of worry darken our good cheer. And it is good to be out here in the sun and fresh spring air, taking a well-deserved break from our labors. Up in the Northlands, these breezes would still carry a hint of winter's chill to them at this time of year."
"And how go your labors?" Mona inquired.
"Oh, splendidly, splendidly. We've nearly finished distilling the first full batch of concentrated vitriol, so we should be able to start the actual shaping and sculpting tomorrow. Of course, for a piece this size, it will be a very long and involved process, requiring multiple batches. It will take quite a few days to complete."
"And I assume the other work going on down there isn't distracting you unduly?"
"Well, all those weasels hammering and pounding can get to be a bit much, but at least we're in our own separate chamber, largely isolated from the rest of the cellars by thick stone walls. In all truth, sometimes I become so immersed in my work that I totally block out all the other noise, and I don't even realize it's there!"
"It's true," Kyslith affirmed with a nod. "When Master Trelayne is fully concentrating upon his artistic efforts, the walls and ceiling could be collapsing around him, and he wouldn't notice!"
"And what of you, good Kyslith?" Mona inquired. "Are you finding yourself more at ease at Foxguard, now that you've been here for awhile?"
"Oh, yes. Mainly thanks to Roxroy here, and Mykola as well. You were wise to suggest I seek them out, and I do thank you for that. My work with Master Trelayne has kept me too busy to do much socializing, but we have managed to sneak in a couple of nice conversations, and you were perceptive that Roxroy's closeness with the Redwallers in particular makes him easier for me to relate to than most of the other foxes here. But Mykola shares many of the same qualities as well. In fact, he almost doesn't strike me as a warriorbeast at all, even though he was with Lord Urthblood through many of the Northland campaigns, and at the battle of Salamandastron as well."
"Oh yes," Trelayne said with a subdued chuckle, "Mikky."
"Mykola's something of a ... special case," said Mona. "I've always thought of us foxes as more sensitive than other species, but Mikky has always possessed an empathy for the ostracized and disenfranchized far beyond anything I've ever seen in any other creature - woodlanders included. He was always quick to give our Northland vermin recruits the benefit of the doubt, and his patience and guidance of them surely helped some settle into Lord Urthblood's service more easily than they otherwise would have. Even as he fought alongside Machus to help tame the Northlands and establish Lord Urthblood's dominion there, taking life when our enemies forced him to it, he constantly and selflessly gave of himself to coach our rough, raw recruits, always seeking to bring out their best qualities, instill in them a sense of decorum and belonging, and aiding their transition to professional, honorable fighting beasts. He took a special interest in problem cases, troubled creatures who displayed antisocial tendencies or had serious challenges fitting in, making it almost a personal crusade to spare as many of these borderline beasts from the executioner's blade as he could. I can't even begin to imagine all the ferrets, weasels, stoats, and foxes and martens too - and, yes, rats as well - who were positively influenced by him over the seasons. He's not had much occasion or opportunity to engage in these practices since relocating to Foxguard, although at his core he remains the same goodhearted fox he's always been. I'm hardly surprised you favor his company as well."
"Mykola's a special beast," Roxroy offered. "One of the original Twenty who served with Machus, and yet with the compassion of a peaceable confidant. He actually would have made a good Redwaller."
Trelayne smiled at this. "I'm sure he would be most gratified to hear you say such a thing."
Kyslith stroked his whiskers. "It's funny, because I surely must have known him in the North - or at least met him a few times, or seen him about. But I hadn't been Master Trelayne's apprentice for very long before Machus and his brigade went south to Mossflower, and I never mingled much with the fighting beasts anyway, so I honestly don't remember him. But I'm glad he survived Salamandastron, and is here now for me to get to know."
"How has he taken the news of this operation against the rats?" Trelayne asked Mona and Roxroy.
"About as you'd expect," Mona replied with a sigh, as the junior swordfox nodded along somberly. "Many of the soldiers he strove to help in the Northlands were rats, and he was especially close to one who was slain at Salamandastron. He is clearly not happy with this campaign, and has voiced his feelings to Tolar. I don't believe he would go so far as to actively oppose the operation - he is, after all, still a loyal fighting beast of Lord Urthblood's - but I hope Foxguard is never called upon to play an active role in the campaign, because if we're pushed into more than just a support capacity, I'm not sure Mykola could bring himself to follow those orders."
"Well, he seems like quite a decent beast to me," said Kyslith, "and I hope he doesn't follow any orders he finds immoral or indefensible. Perhaps every military garrison and group needs a voice of conscience like that, to remind everybeast else that not all orders are good orders, and to always examine what they are told to do with a critical eye and questioning mind."
Roxroy levelled his own critical gaze at the fox apprentice. "This is Foxguard. We don't get to pick and choose which orders to follow."
"Oh, well, uh, I didn't mean it like that. But, it's just ... well, how do all of you feel about this campaign against the rats?"
Mona answered first. "It is what it is. This policy was decided upon and enacted as part of great events which unfolded far from us. If it is necessary to keep the peace ... " She shrugged noncommittally.
"I never got to know any of the rats in Lord Urthblood's service very well, before I was sent down to Mossflower to begin my cadet training here," Roxroy said. "I can't honestly say I've ever had a rat friend. And, as Mona states, if this is what is necessary to preserve the Accord and keep war from breaking out again, then who are we to speak against it? I think my feelings on the matter are the same as Sword Tolar's seem to be: Whether or not it is necessary, it's not the kind of service we swordfoxes were trained for, or the kind of endeavor Foxguard was established for. Our purpose is to battle the enemies of peace and stand as a sentinel to protect the security of Mossflower, not to roust simple woodland beasts out of their homes and send them off to Tratton. It's rather ... beneath us. And if we can stay out of it as much as we can, all the better."
Trelayne weighed in then. "I've no love for rats of any stripe, and I honestly don't care what happens to any of them. Let them all go live under Tratton in a realm of their own, apart from the rest of us, just as Lord Urthblood has proclaimed. What I do care about is whether this campaign causes undue strains or stresses among creatures who ought to be friends and allies, as seems to have happened with this whole Redwall affair. That, it strikes me, is what we must avoid at all costs. I only hope we can."
"Me too," agreed Kyslith.
"Of course," added Mona.
"Let us hope," concluded Roxroy. The junior swordfox glanced skyward at the sudden appearance of a gliding shape above the treetops. "Ah, here comes Captain Klystra now. Let us see what news he bears, and whether our hopes have been borne out!"
00000000000
It felt to the Redwallers as if a suffocating weight had been lifted from the Abbey. Klystra's announcement that Urthblood would seek no demands from them or censure them in any way for their decision to take in the rats, and that the Badger Lord had ordered the Gawtrybe to disengage and pull back to Foxguard, elicited a collective sigh of relief that once again all had worked out, just as it always seemed to do. From the rats themselves, whose very life and liberty stood imperiled by recent events, to the Abbey defenders now spared any possible confrontation with Urthblood's fighters, to the ordinary Abbeyfolk who shied away from violence and dreaded the idea of a battle outside their walls spilling into their cherished haven, hardly a Redwaller could be found who didn't feel that they had just narrowly dodged a catastrophic clash which might have jeopardized everything they held dear.
The only exception may have been the former slaves lead by Lekkas, whose relief at the avoidance of conflict was matched by their displeasure that the rats would be staying. Even if the Redwallers would now be free once more to forage from the near woods to forestall any food shortage at the Abbey, the mere presence of the crude rodents still raised a whole host of other issues.
"We still must decide what is to be done now, Abbot," Lekkas insisted over supper in Great Hall that evening, bending Geoff's ear at the main table as Friar Hugh's staff laid out generous celebratory portions of watershrimp and cress cheesebread and warm acorn oak farls. "What are we to do about all the rats?"
"As distasteful and distressing as you might find it, Lekkas, we cannot put them out. We may have sidestepped any immediate crisis over their presence here, but Klystra and Custis made it abundantly clear that Lord Urthblood fully intends to pursue this Purge of his throughout Mossflower, regardless of what we do within our own walls. And that score or so of Gawtrybe the Lieutenant left behind to monitor the approaches to our gates drives home the point that not only will no more rats be permitted entry to Redwall, but that any of those currently inside the Abbey who dare to venture beyond our perimeter will be subject to this policy as well, tied up and taken into custody and marched off to who knows where. Harth and Latura's company, and Captain Truax's family as well, have invoked the sanctuary of Redwall, and that means we cannot surrender them. Not under these conditions."
"Yes, but ... what are we to do with them?"
"Do with them? No more or less than we already have. The rats shall have the grounds and orchard, and your former slaves shall have Cavern Hole, until we can get Freetown built. That way, neither of you will have any cause to antagonize the other."
Lekkas set a grim jaw. "So we're to become prisoners in our own home? Unable to venture out of doors on glorious spring days, for fear of running into the beasts of our nightmares?"
"These rats are hardly that, as you might discover yourself if you made any effort at all to become acquainted with them. Woodland rats cowering behind out walls for fear of losing their freedom, or worse, are quite a different kettle of fish from the cruel, slave-keeping sea tyrants from whom you were liberated. However, if you'd rather switch places with them - give Cavern Hole over to the rats while you camp out on the grounds ... "
Lekkas threw up his paws as if the Abbot was being impossible and turned back to his dinner.
A few seats down, Alexander's second-in-command Elmwood sought to commiserate with the Forest Patrol chief. "Still don't think that was right of her, Alex sir, taking off to Foxguard like that with her fellow Gawtrybe, without even dashing inside for a quick farewell to you or explanation to any of us about what she had in mind. Hadta hear it from that feathered battler instead, even as those Northlanders were showing us their bushes in retreat. I'd say she's got some explaining to do when she gets back - if you don't mind my sayin', sir."
"Why should I mind? Everybeast else is saying it. Or at least thinking it. And Mina really doesn't do the explaining thing very well. She hasn't even been back inside since Geoff found out she was the one who sent our Sparra students to Foxguard - although I suspect that if and when he does take her to task for that, she'll seek to turn the tables and question his right to question her on such matters. She's very good at being imperious - guess it come naturally to royalty."
"Either that, or else she's spent too much time rubbing shoulders with Urthblood."
"There is more than a little of that badger in her, I'm forced to admit. I'm starting to think Mina and Urthblood are two of a kind when it comes to writing their own rules."
"Sir ... are things gonna be all right? Between the two of you, I mean?"
Alex heaved a deep, resigned sigh. "I don't know, Elm. I always thought there was nothing that could come between us, or shake our devotion to each other. Who could have foreseen anything like this? Now, I just don't know."
"Pah! You deserve better'n this, sir. I always thought that highfalutin' missus was too haughty for her own good. Now she's showing her true colors - and while they might be red, they're not the same shade as Redwall's."
Alex gave his lieutenant a sardonic smile. "I seem to remember you falling over your own tail to woo and impress Mina yourself when she first came to Redwall."
"Well, yeah - only me 'n' every other free male in the Forest Patrol. But let's face it, a beast of her high station would never have settled for any of us grunts, or even a second-in-line like me. Naw, she knew what she wanted as soon as she saw it, so it was almost fated that she'd end up with you."
"Fated, hm? You think she came to Redwall with a mind to snare the seniormost squirrel here?"
"I ... never said that, sir. Although, now that you mention it ... "
"Yes, it would certainly fall in with Urthblood's tendency to plan for contingencies far in advance, wouldn't it? A foothold inside Redwall, a voice at our councils, and a place in the heart of one of our chief defenders ... "
"Fur, sir, now you're starting to sound like one of the Long Patrol!"
Alex gazed across to the side table where a group of the recently-awakened fighting hares sat enjoying their own supper. "Maybe they've had it right all along, Elm. Maybe they have."
At the Long Patrol table, Sergeant Traughber had invited Tibball and the former slave hare Charsley to join them. Here, a moist, rich carrot cake had been added to the menu - Friar Hugh often tried to include a carrot recipe whenever he could for the Abbey's long-eared, long-legged defenders - and rabbit and hares alike tucked into that delicacy with aplomb.
"So, enjoyin' your time at our fair Abbey, Tibbs ol' chum?" the sergeant prompted.
"Oh, vastly and grandly, sir!" Tibball enthused through a mouthful of the sweet treat. "Just getting to visit Redwall itself would be a dream come true for most any creature living on the east side of the Moss. But for a rabbit like me to find all you fine hares waiting for me as well, that's just all the more staggering. I'd never heard of the Long Patrol before my brief time at Foxguard, and scarcely would have imagined that such magnificent, impressive, outstanding, audacious, wonderful, amazing - "
"Don't forget perilous!" Corporal Twisher cheerfully cut in.
"Yes," Tibball quickly added, "and perilous defenderbeasts could exist anywhere in all the lands! I know I'm just a humble homebody of a bunny compared to the likes of you, but still your gallant selves offer me a height for which to strive, a goal to aspire to, an example to seek to emulate, a star to hang my heart upon ... "
Pumphrey elbowed his pal Buckalew in the ribs. "Get a load of this little windbag! You'd think Browder's been giving him chunnerin' lessons, wot!"
"Well, I had heard of the Long Patrol," said Charsley, "although I'd like as not have ranked my chances of ever meeting any of you lot as every bit as remote as Tibball's here. My mum 'n' pater raised me up on bedtime stories of your heroic feats an' derring-do, an' I always dreamed of journeyin' to Salamandastron someday to maybe try out an' see if I could make th' bally cut an' join your ranks. Then I was snatched up by those vile seavermin in my teen seasons, an' assumed that dream had died forever. I was more'n a tad disappointed, 'pon bein' released an' deposited at the badger mountain, t' find you'd all pulled up your flippin' stakes an' scuttled your scuts off to Redwall, but once t'was made clear to us that settlin' at this Abbey was an option for us, I knew there was nowhere else I could possibly go. So, here I am!" Charsley lifted his mug of raspberry cordial to his fellow hares. "And, if these legendary chaps 'n' chappesses can overlook this old fool's starry-eyed adoration of 'em, I'd just as soon dwell in their company for the rest of my bloomin' seasons, however many they may be!"
"Don't think that'll be a problem, chum," Traughber told him. "In fact, while it may be tellin' tales outta school a bit, now feels like as good a time as any t' let slip that the Colonel's plannin' to name you an honorary hare of the Patrols, with token reserve duties an' all that bally ballyhoo. If you're willin' to take 'em on, that is."
The slave hare's eye went wide. "Me? An honorary member of th' bally bloomin' blinkin' bashin' smashin' Long Patrol?! Where do I sign up!"
Traughber glanced at the main table where Clewiston dined with the other Abbey leaders. "Let's wait t' get final clearance from the Colonel, an' maybe we'll make it all official, with a tidy little ceremony an' all that, wot?"
Tibball cleared his throat. "Hrmph. Uh, any chance I might become an honorary Long Patrol too?"
Buckalew chortled. "First we'd hafta make you an honorary hare, wouldn't we?"
"More like a half-hare, Lew," Pumphrey sniggered.
"Hey, watch that talk, Pums!" Buckalew shot back. "You know how the Guosim thingummies bristle at bein' called halfmice. Don't want to go puttin' this bunny in a lappin' lather, do we?"
Tibball glowered at these jabs at his lack of full hare-ness, or at least he glowered as much as he could glower at any of his adored Long Patrol. "Please," he implored, "I've already had enough this season made of the fact that I'm not a hare. No more, if you'd be so kind."
"Oh?" Traughber cocked an ear. "An' when was that?"
Tibball related how he'd come to be at Foxguard in the first place, as a result of Mona's desire for a hare to study. "I might not have been what she wanted," the rabbit concluded, "but that didn't stop her poking and prodding me in all the most awkward and sensitive places. At least she didn't eat me, although there were times during her examination when I think I might have preferred that!"
Some of the Long Patrol traded knowing glances of consternation during Tibball's account; this was nothing new to them. "So, she's still at it, eh?" Traughber wryly remarked.
"Yes, I gathered from what she told me that you lot were less than forthcoming in agreeing to her requests," Tibball said.
"Flippin' well right we are!" burst out Pumphrey. "Hardly about to let that creepy vixen witch of Urthblood's have her way with any of us. Have you seen wot she does to some beasts? Skeletons hangin' on bloomin' display, other parts 'n' pieces stockpiled like pie fixin's in a pantry ... "
"Yes, I've ... seen it."
"So've a few Redwallers," said Traughber, "an' secondpaw reports're all we need t' jolly well hear. No hare of the Patrols is gonna give itself over to that practitioner of such unsavory arts." He glanced at Charsley. "Course, we'd not bind you to such prohibition, chap. You're free to go submit yourself to her macabre whims anytime you like!"
"Surely you jest! An' if not, then make me an honorary Long Patrol right this bally moment, so that prohibition does apply to me too, 'cos I've seen enuff eye-avertin', stomach-turnin', soul-searin' sights during my slavedom to last me a hundred sodden seasons!"
"Hey, Sarge!" Buckalew called out, "y' reckon ol' Charsley's honorary induction will be call for another Salamandastron Dance?"
"Yeah," seconded Pumphrey, "Colonel said he was gonna make that soiree a regular shindig for purposes of workin' out, but we stopped it after just that one time."
"A few distractions've cropped up since then, as y' might've noticed, lads. An' with how bloomin' long it took us to recover from all our aches, pains 'n' strains from the last Dance, I'd say we've needed this break 'tween go-rounds. 'Sides which, we're so crowded nowadays, we'd not really have room for another anytime soon. Guess it's back to extended patrol runs outside the Abbey to keep us in fightin' trim, at least until Freetown's built."
"An' we rid ourselves of these reekin' rats," Pumphrey put in.
"That might not be fer awhile," Traughber reminded his juniors. "Long as old Bloodface has got that edict against rats in place, gotta figure our jolly Abbot's got no choice but to let those rotters stay, much as they're spoilin' the bally scenery."
"Oh well," Charsley said with a resigned shrug. "Long as they stay outside apart from us decent folk, guess we'll just hafta grin an' bear it, wot? Shame about th' Dance, tho'. I'd heard a little about the last one, an' it sounded like a prime whirl of a stompfest!"
Meanwhile, away at another side table, Cyrus sat with Cyril and Smallert, ruminating on the whereabouts of everybeast's favorite mixed-up former Abbess.
"I can't fathom it," said Cyrus, "Where could Vanessa possibly be hiding herself away between her infrequent appearances these days? We've looked just about every place she's likely to go, and we know she's not been sneaking out past the guards at the wallgates."
The one-eared weasel nodded. "Aye, ever since those rats showed up, Nessa's made 'erself scarcer'n a snowball in midsummer! But this Abbey's got so many hidey-holes fer anybeast who really puts its mind to not bein' found, it's small wonder she's been able t' disappear like she's been. I've dwelt at Redwall goin' on seven seasons now, an' seems like I'm still findin' small side chambers an' passages I never knew about b'fore, either down in th' cellars or up in the attics. An' she's a lot craftier at sniffin' out such places than I am."
"As long as she's safe and not in any danger, I'd just as soon she stay wherever she is," Cyril grumbled. "She's such a pest and a nuisance!"
"You're only saying that because she's sweet on you," Cyrus teased, unable to resist an opportunity to poke fun at his older sibling.
"She's got a head full of bumblebees!"
"It's full o' sumthin', awright," Smallert agreed, "altho', with all th' trouble she's been raisin' of late, I'd say Cyr's at last half-right in hopin' she keeps her head low like she's been doin'."
"Brother Winokur's still convinced Vanessa's got some kind of special link with that prophetic ratmaid," said Cyrus. "If you look back and think back over a lot of what she did and said over the past few days, it certainly seems like she knew these rats were coming, and knew some other things about them too. Maybe Martin's involved some way, helping them communicate with each other. Like a conduit between them, or something like that."
Cyril remained dubious about such speculation. "But, rats? Couldn't Martin have chosen somebeasts more ... reputable to have involved themselves in all this?"
"Martin works in mysterious ways, or so I've always heard Brother Winokur and Abbot Geoff say. What's got my whiskers twitching is the talk I've heard that Martin and Urthblood are somehow clashing with each other over all of this."
"Now that's just silly," Cyril opined. "Urthblood's alive, and all the way out at Salamandastron, while Martin's been dead for scores of generations, if not hundreds. How could any living beast interact with our founding Warrior? One's flesh and blood and bound to this world, and the other dwells in the realm of spirits."
"I'd not dismiss it outta paw, Master Cyril," Smallert advised. "Urthblood ain't no ordin'ry creature, an' if anybeast could reach out inta th' ghost realm, I reckon he'd be th' one. What worries me is, if any o' this's true, it means Urthblood might be an enemy of Redwall in some way, an' you don't wanna be on that badger's bad side. That's why I'm hopin' it ain't true. I've seen what 'ee c'n do, what 'ee's capable of doin' to his enemies on th' field o' battle. We can't be enemies with 'im. We just can't."
"Well, Winokur and I have been able to keep such talk from the young ones so far, but the way tongues are wagging these days around here, we might not be able to shelter them from it much longer. Innocent beasts of tender seasons ought not be burdened with such troubling reports that might weigh on the minds and darken the dreams of even stout adult defenders."
"Are you still gonna be teaching the classes now that Wink's back at Redwall?" Cyril asked his brother.
"Guess I'm back to assisting. He shows no desire to return to the quarry to chronicle the work there; as he told me, he feels he's already fulfilled his purpose there, which was not to witness the reopening of the quarry at all, but to be there when the rats arrived so he could play the part of peacemaker and conduct them to Redwall."
Cyril glanced around Great Hall. "Where is Wink, anyway? I don't see him around anywhere."
"Oh, he's outside with the rats. Our resident 'Greenpup' can't seem to separate himself from that seer ratmaid, who's clinging to him as much as she can. I don't think he really minds, although he could just be putting on a brave face. Can't be easy, having some needy maid hanging on your arm at every turn."
Cyril rolled his eyes. "Don't I know it!"
In the distance, the door to Great Hall creaked open and then thudded closed again as Arlyn and Metellus filed in from the outdoors. The elder Abbot took his offered seat at the main table alongside Geoff as the young badger delivered their flea-fighting materials back up to the Infirmary. "So, how go your efforts?" the current Abbot asked of his retired counterpart.
"It might take another day or two to get them all treated," Arlyn replied, helping himself to a plate of apple pudding and mild white cheese. "Those are an awful lot of rats!"
"Yes, you do look tired. Perhaps tomorrow I'll assign a few of the brothers and sisters to assist you and Metellus. Have yourself a good, fortifying dinner now, and then get a good night's rest. Will you be returning to your gatehouse cottage to sleep?"
"Oh no, I told Latura's group they could have it tonight as well. The Infirmary beds are quite comfortable enough for me. Besides, after their first night in there, I suspect the whole interior of that cottage will have to be well-powdered down before any uninfested beast will be able to safely sleep in there again."
Geoff shook his head, tsking. "What is wrong with some creatures? They knew they were coming to Redwall; couldn't they at least have made an effort to clean themselves up a bit more and save us all this work? I mean, you'd think they'd want to make the best impression they could if they wanted to be let into the Abbey, and this is hardly the way to do that!"
"In all fairness, they didn't even know for sure until they arrived at our gates that they'd be let in at all. And on the march as they were, they might not have had much opportunity to stop and bathe."
"Oh, nonsense! They had the entire River Moss at their disposal, the very last day of their journey. They're just not the kind of creatures who care very much about such things. That much is quite clear - and I do hope it's not typical of what we can expect of them, although I'm not holding my breath that they'll transform into model Redwallers any season soon."
"We don't need them to be model Redwallers - just to observe our rules and cause us no undue trouble. Fleas are relatively easy to treat, so if that's the worst of the problems they present us with, I'll not complain overmuch. Also, another reason I agreed to let Latura's villagers take the gatehouse for another night is so Turma can have the bed. She'll be delivering soon, and she should have proper bedrest until she does. And she's not the only one; several other ratwives out there are in a family way, and beds really should be found for them if it can at all be managed."
"You have empty beds up in the Infirmary - pretty much the only ones left in Redwall."
"Yes, I know. And as much as I'd prefer to keep them free for any true emergencies, I'm leaning toward letting those expectant rat mothers-to-be have them. Of course, that presents the dilemma of allowing rats inside the main building where our liberated slave friends insist they not be allowed, and of having the Infirmary fully occupied by ratmums, which would put off any of the slaves who come by in need of treatment themselves. It is a vexing quandary."
"Yes, just one of many facing us these days. At least it seems Lord Urthblood is not going to press the matter of these rats with us any further, given that he's ordered most of the Gawtrybe back to Foxguard, when he could just as easily have ordered Tolar's foxes to join Lieutenant Custis here for an action against us. In these affairs, we must take whatever small blessings we can, although this wrinkle actually does present us with yet another quandary of a sort ... or at least a very perplexing question."
"Oh?"
"If Urthblood is even half so serious about this campaign against the rats as Custis seems to think he is, why was he so quick to relent and order his squirrels to fall back? You'd think that so many rats taking shelter within our walls would be something he'd not so easily be able to overlook. Just look at what Captain Truax told us has been going on in the Northlands. This is not something that badger is taking lightly. So why the sudden turnaround?"
"Perhaps he figures that any rat with us now is not one likely to factor into his Accord with Tratton. Perhaps he truly does respect and honor Redwall's sovereignty ... or maybe it's just not expedient for him to risk a confrontation with us over this." Arlyn shrugged. "Who can say what goes on in that badger's mind?"
"Yes," Geoff nodded. "Who indeed?"