CHAPTER SIXTY-SEVEN
The arrival of the riverside mouse and vole clans provided for a reunion of sorts, and a happy one at that. Pryle and two of his cousins who'd also been rescued from the fox slavers four seasons earlier by Cyril, Broggen, Deltus and the Guosim now delighted in once more seeing Budsock, who'd suffered in the same slave line as they. And Log-a-Log's son Pirkko, who himself had spent time in searat captivity courtesy of those same foxes and narrowly escaped a life in chains, formed an immediate bond with the riverside mice and, being the oldest of the group, appointed himself tour guide for Redwall's newest visitors.
And, naturally, Pirkko and Budsock and their equally daring companion Droge didn't shy away from leading their guests right through the heart of the temporary rat encampment set up on the Abbey lawns, even though the mice initially showed trepidation (if not outright terror) at such a prospect.
"Aw, they're naught t' be afeared of!" the shrew chieftain's son had chided. "Most of 'em's ladyfolk, oldsters a' babes anyway, an' we took away all their weapons, so even th' fighters 'mongst them couldn't threaten us even if they wanted to!"
Thus emboldened - at least a little - squirrel and hedgehog and mice followed along at Pirkko's heels as they all wended their way through the masses of the larger rodents, many of whom hardly expressed joy over this woodlander incursion.
"It's bad 'nuff we got hares 'n' squirrels 'n' shrews hemmin' us in on all sides, makin' it plain they don't trust us," one old crone of a ratwife was heard to grumble, "but now we got their pesky brats t' put up with too!"
Pirkko ignored any and all such muttered sentiments, and accompanying glares, as he led his playmates through the outer fringes of the rat shelters, the perimeter farther out from the orchard; here all the lean-to shelters were supported by free-standing timbers driven into the ground rather than simply being tarps strung between the various fruit trees. The young shrew slapped at one beam after another as they wove between the haphazard tents, Pirkko not caring what rats he might have been disturbing or intruding upon.
"Yup, here's another one! All these tent frames come from th' lumber used fer my pageant stage! T'were a hard sacrifice, seein' the site of my thesperin glory dismantled t' go to such creatures as these, but Redwall's Redwall, an' if timbers're needed fer a greater cause, we're all willin' to pitch in what we can!"
"What's ... thesperin?" Pryle inquired.
"Means actin', like playin' an' performin' in character. Ol' Browder taught that 'un to me - neat liddle word, eh?"
"I suppose," granted Pryle's cousin Meggette, who'd also spent time in chains at the paws of the fox slavers. "But from what I heard tell, I'd say it was hardly your stage. All the Abbey youngbeasts had parts in that play."
"Yeah, but it was put on in my honor, to see me an' th' Guosim off from Redwall! An' I got to play Martin, an' Matthias, an' woulda got t' play Nimbalo too, if that dunderhead Wronk hadn't gotten a cold rudder an' run off halfway through playin' his role of Deyna th' Taggerung!"
"I'm sure I don't know who any of those creatures are," Pryle admitted. "Except for Martin, of course. Anybeast who knows anything about Redwall knows about him!"
"Aw, Redwall's got all kinds o' heroes an' legends," Pirkko boasted, prompting Droge and Budsock to nod in agreement, even though the squirrel lad had portrayed only villains in the recent historical review, and the hedgehog's sole role was limited to a wicker crab. "Brother Wink's told us all about 'em in our hist'ry lessons. Why, there he is, just over there, holdin' class with the youngrats! Let's go see what story he's tellin' 'em today!"
As the intrepid woodlander youths made their way to the otter Recorder and his current students, Meggette studied the adult rats they passed. "Don't they all kinda seem rather ... forlorn?" she whispered to her friends. "Like they're stuck somewhere they'd rather not be, or maybe they'd prefer to be somewhere else but they don't know where that would be, and aren't sure what to do about it? Like they're just hanging about, waiting ... "
"Well, ain't they?" Pirkko responded. "They got squirrels an' others outside who wanna slay 'em or send 'em off to Tratton, Abbeybeasts inside who don't know whether to welcome or fear 'em, an' an Abbot who still ain't sure what's to be done with 'em. It is kinda like their lives have been put on hold, if y' stop an' think about it. Most of 'em must barely be sure how they even got here, an' wholly unsure what happens next. So yeah, I guess they are waitin', an' they ain't even sure what they're waitin' for."
"That's ... kinda sad," Meggette reflected.
"Not as sad as bein' hauled away in chains t' live as slaves," Pirkko countered.
Pryle studied the seated and recumbent rats all around them. "Hey, hardly any of these are the grown malebeasts. Where are all of 'em?"
"Their Gen'ral has 'em guardin' the gates an' walltop," Pirkko replied. "They don't trust those Gawtrybe not t' do sumpthin' 'gainst 'em, an' after all that's gone on lately, can't say I blame 'em."
"Guard the gates?" Meggette asked. "How can they do that? You said all their weapons were taken away?"
"So they were. But those rats've still got eyes an' ears to help stand watch, an' tongues t' shout out anything that goes amiss. Guess they figger that's all they can do, so they'll do it!"
Winokur, still seated on the grass before his class, saw Pirkko's group approaching and greeted them with a smile and a nod, and without breaking the rhythm or interrupting the flow of his oratory. Shrew, squirrel, hedgehog and mice settled down themselves to listen to the morning's lesson, but it soon became apparent just which tale the otter Recorder was relating to the rapt and attentive rats.
"Aw, not th' story of Blaggut again?" Pirkko blurted out. "That's gotta be the third or fourth time now!"
"They do seem to like it," Wink explained, "and we have so few good rat stories in our histories." Mindful of his audience, he pointedly kept vague whether he meant good stories about rats, or stories about good rats.
"Yeah, it's a good 'un," Drattell agreed. "Too bad ol' Blaggs never settled here at Redwall, 'stead of goin' off t' live by 'imself."
"Well, he was offered that choice," Winokur said to the questioning rodent. "But he felt that a lifelong existence as a searat made him ill-suited to dwelling at Redwall, and it was his choice to reside elsewhere, although he did make frequent visits for the remainder of his seasons. And, being a good-hearted soul who'd proven his worth, he was always welcome."
"If all searats were like Blaggut," said another rat lad named Tristan, "I wouldn't mind bein' sent off to 'em."
"Kinda wish we were free t' come an' go like Blaggut was," Tryna lamented. "This Abbey's nice an' all, but it ain't our home. Creatures like us don't belong here."
"Now don't go saying that," Wink lightly admonished. "Anybeast, of any species, can call Redwall home, as long as they live as goodbeasts and follow our rules. Blaggut deemed he'd lived too long among badbeasts to feel fully at ease here, but you're all young yet. None of you are hordesbeasts, even if some of your mums and dads are, or were. You've still got plenty of time to learn our ways and have them become second nature to you. Why, we've had a weasel living with us for many seasons now whom we all regard as just another Abbeybeast, and then there was a stoat who dwelt with us for a couple of seasons that we felt the same way about. And the ferret family visiting us now also stayed with us until their babe Percival arrived, which makes little Percy a born Redwaller, even if his family dwells elsewhere. Grayfoot and his small clan are always as welcome here as any woodlander, or goodbeast. So you see, this can be your home, if you want it to be."
"Does that mean we're gonna hafta stay here forever?" Tryna asked.
"Well, that's really up to Lord Urthblood, and his Gawtrybe, isn't it? But for as long as you need to stay here, as long as you continue to honor and observe our ways, you will be welcome ... and it is my hope that even if the Purge were to be called off tomorrow and you were all free to go without fear of harassment, some of you might choose to remain at Redwall and call it your home for the rest of your seasons."
"Even though we made all those other beasts go away, 'cos they couldn't stand bein' 'round us?" Drattell asked.
"Those were all former slaves of the searats, so they have their own particular qualms about sharing this Abbey with members of your species, although that's really their problem, not yours. But they'll be at the quarry for the rest of this season, and after that they'll be building a separate home for themselves across the road, so they won't have to share Redwall with anybeast they don't care to. They needn't concern any of you any longer."
"What about the others?" Tryna pressed. "Like th' one who called us a bunch o' Vitches? That ain't 'xactly welcoming neither."
Winokur sighed. "Please try not to hold that against them. Everybeast just needs time to adjust to the idea of so many rats living at Redwall. It's as new for us as it is for you, remember. Don't become discouraged; just stick with it, and I'm sure things will work out fine in the end. They almost always do at Redwall - just you wait and see."
"So, what story are y' gonna tell next?" Pirkko cut in from the sidelines. "Make it a good one we can all enjoy - one without any rats!"
As Drattell and Tryna and the other rat pupils scowled at the young shrew, Winokur dismissed Pirkko's insensitive intrusion with the carefree wave of a flipper. "Why, shore, Pirkko matey!" he declared, lapsing into playful otter jargon. Turning to the rats, engaged anew by his change of character, Wink asked, "Who 'ere wants t' hear th' tale o' Romsca the corsair ferret?"
00000000000
"Mind yourselves! No running in the halls, wot?"
As happy as Budsock had been to see Pryle and the other riverside mice again, no less overjoyed were the four toddler leverets at seeing their favorite ferret playmate return for another visit to the Abbey. To give Maura a break from her duties, Mizagelle and Browder had volunteered to watch the active quintet this morning, and were happy to do so, always enjoying the frivolous interplay between hares and ferret. Even though Percy was more than a season older than most of his long-eared, big-footed pals, he was still closer in age to them than to any other Abbeybeast, and thus the bond between them continued to hold true.
Their carefree wanderings had brought them up to the third-floor dormitories, where they delighted in racing up and down the empty corridor, ignoring Browder's admonition to comport themselves with a dignity and discipline unknown to creatures their age.
"I say," the player hare puffed from the near end of the hall, "how much of a bloomin' run-around are these offspring of ours gonna give us? This must be the third time they've had us up an' down these flippin' stairs, an' now they wanna run relays along this blinkin' passage too. Enuff t' wear an old thespian down to th' nub, don'tcha know."
"Hush now, dear hubby." Mizagelle put her paw around her husband's waist. "For one thing, only Chevelle's our offspring 'mongst this happy crew ... "
"Pah. Faylona's our niece - well, your niece - an' Lysander's your half-brother, so it's all in th' family, wot? Tho' the family tree's grown a mite gnarly, wot with late second marriages an' step-laws an' uncles bein' younger than their nephews 'n' nieces ... "
"Yes, I suppose it is all in the family, isn't it? Except for Troyall; Florrie an' Gallatin 've got that rascal all to themselves. But you should be thanking our extended brood for putting you through your paces, you know. Since you didn't take part in our Salamandastron Dance, how else are you to get your exercise?" She playfully poked at his less-than-tight midsection, eliciting a flinch and an unmasculine squeak worthy of a mousewife.
"Steady on there, Miz me Miz. Daresn't go prodding the bally breadwinner, wot. And just to refresh your slippin' memory, I did play a jolly grand role in your footstompin' Dance, rousting up that merry band of musical chaps an' chappesses for the rest of you to prance an' spin an' twirl to. Blowin' those pipes an' servin' as concertmaster's hard work too!"
"Oh, ha! You didn't burn up a tenth wot we did, sitting on your scut the entire time! You'd hafta blow for half a season to match wot we did in that one Dance!"
"Well, it's not like you Longs have held anymore Dances since, wot? So don't go singlin' me out as the only hare hereabouts whose belly has a bit of a jiggle to it."
Mizagelle sighed. "Not like we've had time or space for one, is it? But havin' all these rats here, with all those bloody Gawtrybe gnashing their teeth to get in at 'em, has at least kept us patrollin' trim, with all th' circuits we hafta make of the grounds an' walltop. Gotta stay on top of the rats inside, make sure they don't cause any trouble, an' guard with a sharp eye against those treejumpers outside ... an' now that we've got some of Bloodface's squirrels in with us as well, we gotta watch 'em from both ways. Poor Colonel was up all night makin' rounds - think he only just headed down for some shuteye a short while ago. He must be positively bushed on his footpaws!"
"Know how he feels, m' gel, wot with this little gang we're watchin' over runnin' around eight ways to summer. Bet it's a blinkin' conspiracy to wear us out, so they'll have run of the place with complete an' utter abandon." Seeing the ferret and four hares start to disappear around a corner at the far end of the corridor, Browder called out, "Hey, stay where we can see you! In peeper range at all times, wot? No escapin' through alternate halls an' stairs!"
Mizagelle patted his shoulder. "Save your breath and don't fret, dearie. I've been down this corridor lots of times, and it stops at a dead end. There's no place they can go, so relax and let them have their fun."
"In that case ... " Browder settled down on a small common bench along one wall. "Might as well rest these stompers while the little lovelies give us a bally breather. They'll have us up an' chasin' again in no time, just you see!"
As it happened, Mizagelle was not entirely correct about her assumptions regarding the hallway's terminus. While no regular doorway or staircase gave out onto some other part of the Abbey, a tiny alcove recessed within the corridor wall there provided an upward egress all but forgotten by most current Redwallers. As Percy, Chevelle, Faylona, Troyall and Lysander poked about and explored within the tiny niche - not so tiny from their toddlers' perspective - they discovered a stair flight heretofore unknown to them, leading up to the attic spaces ... or to an entire new and different world, as their flights of fancy might have it. The curious passage stood only half as wide as any ordinary stairwell, or even less, and could never have accommodated a fully grown badger, or otter, or even many of the squirrels and hedgehogs or mice presently residing at the Abbey. But to the five pairs of eagerly shining eyes taking it in now, it may as well have been a yawning cavern with all the mysteries of creation lying beyond. And what dauntless, intrepid beast of their youthful seasons could resist the lure of such a beckoning gateway?
Well, Lysander could, for one.
"Lessgo up, see wherrit goes," Chevelle proposed.
The youngest leveret shook his head, intimidated by the dark crevice within the stonework and the imagined terrors lurking beyond. "Naahaahaaa, 's scawwee!"
"Lysee's a fwaidy-bunnee!" Faylona teased.
Chevelle looked to the ferret of their group. "Whassay Percy? Go up, or all be fwaidy-bunnees?"
Percy gulped, studying the narrow staircase. In truth, it was no more intimidating or forbidding than any number of other places in all of vast Redwall's nooks and crannies they'd explored together over the past season or two. But the fact that this particular obscure little corner of the Abbey seemed to have been overlooked and forgotten by even the grown-ups, and that they had discovered it themselves unsupervised, lent the strange stairway an arcane air transcending even the fanciful imaginings with which they often imbued the more humdrum parts of Redwall. Nevertheless, Percy was the oldest here, and his father was a former captain of a Badger Lord's army. Summoning up the courage he supposed Grayfoot might have displayed going into battle, and not wanting to disappoint his dad even if the retired ferret commander wasn't actually here to know about any of this, Percy set his mouth in a stern line of determination and gave a nod not to be second-guessed.
"Not a fraidy-ferret. We go up."
"Den youggo fwirst," Chevelle said.
Gulping a second time and steeling himself for their expedition into the unknown, Percival stepped through the tall portal and up onto the first step. Finding it reassuringly solid underfoot, he was emboldened to climb the next two ... but there his nerve flagged, and he paused to glance behind him. Sure enough, the hare quartet still stood down on the floor, yet to commence their own ascent as they looked on in hesitant uncertainty.
"Not goin' up if you don' go up," Percy warned them, realizing as he spoke these words that this might grant him an exit, and a face-saving way of calling off this whole endeavor.
To his partial disappointment, Chevelle stomped one footpaw up onto the bottom step. "We commin'. But you gotta keep cwimbin', make wayfer us."
Resigned to his chosen fate, Percy faced forward again, and resumed his tremulous climb.
There were twenty steps total, rising in a straight line from the alcove to the attic space above. As the young ferret inched his way along, his eyes gradually adjusted from the warm light of the morning hallway below to the dimness of his new surroundings, and he saw then that the chamber above was not all dark gloom entirely, but instead lay in a muted light suggesting that one or two small windows lit it, or perhaps that a single lamp burned here. This second possibility gave Percy pause again; no Abbeybeast was known to dwell up here - indeed, many could not even have fit through this entryway to come and go from this place - so what manner of creature could possibly be awaiting them in this secret room? Percy's resolve faltered a second time, but Chevelle and the others were literally on his heels and tail now, so he could only go forward. Swallowing his trepidation, and determined to prove himself braver than any bunny - even "bunnies" who were in truth the leveret sons and daughter of perilous Long Patrol fighting hares - Percy stepped fully up into the attic chamber.
He really didn't have any time to survey his surroundings and take them all in before the four hares were shouldering him aside in their own attempts to gain the attic level and prevent their ferret playmate from grabbing all the glory and hogging all the adventure for himself. Soon four of the five explorers stood around the top landing of the stairway, with only Lysander lingering on the next step down, ready to turn and flee if monsters proved to be here after all.
It really was a wholly unremarkable space - or so an adult would have found it. The only light filtered in through a single grimy window which had clearly not been cleaned in many seasons, and by that scant illumination they saw a dusty, unkempt room which was part dormitory, part study and part storeroom, but now served none of those functions, although the last seemed to come closest. Most of the furnishings, some of which appeared too large to have been brought up through the narrow stairway, sat covered in sheets, while the rest lay under coats of dust and must. On the face of it, it came across as a vestige of another time, entirely deserving of the forgotten neglect which had claimed it.
But to their young eyes, even this routine attic chamber represented a world of secrets and surprises and mysteries to be explored, and possible treasures to be unearthed. And, since no adult had clearly been here in quite some time, that meant that it was all theirs, and theirs alone, by virtue of having come across it on this day when nobeast else had.
Or so they thought.
Emboldened by the seeming lack of danger and yet enthralled by the lure of the unknown - and painting this room with far greater mystique in their minds than it could possibly possess in reality - they ventured forth, lifting the skirts veiling the various objects to eagerly peer at whatever lay beneath.
That was when the coat rack standing shrouded in one corner turned to face them, pulling back its cowl to reveal that it wasn't, in fact, a coat rack at all.
Faylona froze. Troyall shrieked, then froze. Chevelle froze, then shrieked. Lysander huddled down, covering his eyes with both paws, ears flattened. And Percy nearly wet himself, a display which surely would not have earned the admiration of his father.
"Who dares intrude upon my inner sanctum?" a menacing voice boomed out in challenge.
All the youngsters started screaming at once. "A mwonstwah! A demon! A ghowst! A phannom! Aaaiiiighhh!"
And then they all rushed for the stairs at once ... which naturally resulted in all of them colliding and collapsing into a tangled, writhing heap on the floor, long before they ever gained the top step.
The figure of terror stepped over to them, towering above with paws on hips as it inspected the horrified youngbeasts. "Ah ha!" it declared, pulling off its cloak and casting the dusty garment aside. "Fate has delivered me this day the five brave warriors I've been waiting for!"
Percy stopped panicking long enough from his spot atop the pile to more fully study their tormentor. "Hey, ain't a monstah! It's Nessamouse!"
"Mouse! Fie on ye, good sir knight! I am no mouse! I am Urthnessa the Bold, Badger Lord of Redwall!"
Their frenzy subsiding, the four hares and ferret disentangled themselves from each other and sat on the floor gazing up at the newly-revealed former Abbess. Although it was not readily apparent in the dim chamber, they could now see that Vanessa had used white talc and charcoal soot to paint her face fur so as to roughly mimic a badger's stripes. The effect was in truth far less badgery than like that of a mouse with black ash and pale powder on her face, but then, this was hardly the most discriminating audience she had to win over here.
"The prophecy inscribed on my throne room wall foretold the coming this day of four brave and valorous fighting hares of the Long Patrol, and a stalwart ferret captain to help me lead them! And now, here you are!"
Percy threw up his paws. "Yay! I gets t' be cap'n, jus' like Da was!"
"Why's 'ee getta be capnin?" Chevelle challenged.
"Yea," seconded Faylona. "Dis mean us gotta obbey 'im?" This notion rather rankled the four hares, since Percy, being the only non-hare in their play circle - and not even a Redwaller proper - was traditionally cast in the minority role of their exploits, and made to follow the leverets' lead.
"Silence!" Vanessa roared, or as much as a female mouse can roar. "No dissension in the ranks! I have appointed Captain Percival my top commander, and I will brook no argument!"
Percy clapped his paws with glee. "Yay! Imma cap'n! Now you all gotsta do wha' I say!"
"Dunno if I like dis game," Chevelle grumbled.
"You a good badder, or a bad badder?" Troyall asked Vanessa. "Da sez dere's bowth, an' a bad badder's at Salamannawotsis noaw."
"Yah," Faylona agreed, "da baddest badder of all! Wi' nastee vermnin too!"
"Li' Perzee!" Lysander pointed at the ferret, who scowled and tried to smack the youngest hare, but missed as Lysander deftly dodged, exhibiting a Long Patrol's classic bob and weave skills even at such a tender age.
"I ain'ta vermnin!" Percy protested. "I'mma goodbeast, an' a cap'n now, so you do wha' I sez!"
"I tought good badders got 'ares, an' bad badders gots fewwets an' wats an' weassils an' foxers," said Faylona. "How you gots both?"
"Because I am a Redwall Badger Lord," Vanessa answered without missing a beat, "and Redwall Badger Lords are special!" She settled cross-legged onto the floor before them, pretty much shattering the illusion of being a badger of any kind, and changed her tone from commanding to conspiratorial. "Hearken to me, my brave little warriors, for there is much to be done! These are dire times for this Abbey, and I have special missions for all of you! Redwall is counting on us all, so I must know that I can count on all of you to do exactly as I say! Are you with your Lord on this?"
They all nodded, even though they couldn't guess what kind of game Vanessa might be playing now. But they'd never gotten to serve a Badger Lord before, not even a pretend mouse Badger Lord, and this captured the fancy and appeal of both the leverets, whose parents had faithfully served Urthfist, and Percy, whose father had done the same for Urthblood. So, they were up for whatever it was Vanessa had in mind.
"Good! Excellent! Now, certain things need to happen at Redwall during the next day or two, and I deem we are the only ones who can get them done! Be ready to carry out your assignments at a moment's notice, and gird yourselves to overcome all obstacles! I'm depending on you!"
"But, whadda we do noaw?" Chevelle queried.
"For now, your solemn oath of fealty shall suffice. But fast now! One approaches who would seek to stymie our gallant efforts and curtail your quest! Play along with them for now, and never let them guess your true purpose! It's a Badger Lord secret!"
Before any of them could ask what she meant, an insistent call reached them from the bottom of the staircase. "Chevy! Fay, Troy, Lysander! Are you up there?"
Vanessa flashed an impish grin and held her paw to her lips. Percy leaned back to peer down the narrow flight, and saw Mizagelle start to ascend. "Oh no, she's comin' up! Whadda we do?"
"Mum can' get up 'ere," Chevelle argued. "She's too big t' fit!"
"Well, nobeast told her, cuz 'ere she comes!"
In truth, Mizagelle has always been petite for a Long Patrol hare, and not even the birth of two offspring had significantly altered her light frame and lean patroller's physique, so she had no trouble making the ascent, although her shoulders did scrape the sides at first, forcing her to proceed at a slightly skewed angle to ease her passage. Gaining the top, she took in both the youngbeasts and their surroundings in surprise. "So, this is where you got to! What a gloomy little attic backwater this is! Can't say I ever remember being up here before - and by the look of things, nobeast else has either, at least in a long time. Wotever possessed you all to come up here? You must all be covered with twelve seasons worth of dust! You've raised enough t' set my whiskers aquiver and my nose atwitch! Let's get you all down from here, before I go into a sneezing fit!"
"Even Nessa too?" Chevelle asked, prompting a stern look of admonishment and a light elbow in the ribs from Percival. "Ooph!"
"Percy! Please be so kind as to not go pokin' my progeny amidships, there's a good little maskface. And, wot do you mean, Nessa too?"
The ferret and four leverets turned to look at the former Abbess, but the spot where she'd sat moments before now lay empty. Of Vanessa there was no trace.
"She whurr wight 'ere," Troyall insisted.
"Nessa, up here? Well, this does seem like th' kind of out-of-the-way place she'd stash herself, if she didn't want to be found." Mizagelle raised her voice. "Nessa, you hidin' up here? Come out an' show yourself if you are!"
Only expectant silence met this forceful summons, not even the mischievous snickering of the affected Abbess hiding behind a desk or bureau.
"Course she's not gon' show 'erself," Percy told the rest of them. "She said t'were a sekkrit meetin', jus' 'tween us 'n' her!"
"Is that so?" Mizagelle stepped around them, doing a quick survey of the chamber, checking behind every piece of furniture and bric-a-brac and under every concealing sheet and draped coverlet which could possibly have shielded an adult mouse of Vanessa's size, and came up empty. "Well, she's not here now."
"She vannershed!" Percy declared in amazement.
"She a ghosh!" Faylona deduced. "Goah poof!"
"That must be it. But no more dillydallying from you lot! Back down to Browder at once, before you infest yourselves further, wot! You'll all need baths after this!"
This might as well have been a threat of the most dire punishment, for all the wailing protest it raised. "No, no! No baths! No wanna baths!"
"Keep caterwaulin' like that, an' you may end up with baths and no carrot custard for lunch! We'll see when we get you back down into the blinkin' light whether you need a jolly old soak or just a run around the lawns to get yourselves aired out. Down y' go now, an' step lively!"
Mizagelle ushered them down one by one, watching after them to make sure they all reached the corridor below in good fashion and without incident. When she was alone, she stooped down to more closely inspect the dust patterns on the floor where she'd found the five playmates. Unfortunately, it was such a crisscrossed mishmash of all the pawprints and backside smudges they'd left there - and her own tracks adding to it - that it was impossible to tell if anybeast else truly had been up here with them. Sighing in defeat, she turned and followed the youngsters back down to the Abbey proper.
From her place crouched behind the secret wall panel, Vanessa listened with one ear pressed against the disguised doorway as the haremum descended the narrow staircase. Smiling a satisfied smile to herself, she turned about in the confined crawlspace and crept along to her next rendezvous. Redwall was positively riddled with such clandestine passageways and hidden chambers, and it seemed that these days, she was remembering them all.