Night. Darkness filled the room and the creature slept. That blissful period of total serenity ended when an unknown paw began a light, steady rapping against the hallway door. Judging by the sound, whatever beast continued their nocturnal noisemaking had no intention of leaving.
Throwing back her covers, Tassel rose. A glance at the mantel clock confirmed the lateness of the hour. Snagging the oversized robe that hung by her bed, she slipped her paws through the sleeves, cinching it shut before answering the door. Tassel threw back the bolt and glanced into the hallway, though she remained within the shadows of her room. She wanted to growl at the offending creature until she recognized who stood in hallway.
A male woodchuck stood outside her door, his white-furred muzzle attesting to his age. As Redwall's resident healer, Tassel knew him well. She recalled many a night where she disturbed his sleep when one of her young charges fell ill. Now he reversed their roles by waking her. Tassel never got a chance at greeting the fellow before he announced his purpose.
"Tassel, get my two helpers. That visiting lady otter is going into labor."
"At this hour of the night?"
Her sleepy voice carried more of a challenge than a question until she noted the serious expression on the Healer's face. Before closing her door, Tassel muttered her compliance. She shuffled across her private room to another door.
She continued complaining about the otter's poor timing as she entered the Dibbun Dormitory. As Badgermom, the dormitory remained her exclusive domain. She held the ultimate authority over every abandoned or orphaned waif, regardless of the species, placed in her care. Tassel's responsibility made her mother to every youngster housed within this room's network of beds.
Thanks to her memory, aided by many years of service, she navigated the dark room with ease. The one oil lamp, its wick turned down as low as possible, gave the huge room just enough light that her paws avoided the one wayward toy lying in the middle of the floor. Curtains stretched from the wall to the end of each bed afforded each child some sense of privacy. From the passageway between the two rows of beds, she could look into any of the cloth-draped cells.
At the first alcove she saw the teenager, Shortspike, slumbering. This hedgehog had been a very precocious youngster in her youth with the annoying habit of calling anything or anyone silly. Several years ago, when a playmate suffered a serious injury, the hedgehog surprised everyone by remaining very calm as she tried staunching the bleeding leg. Though clumsy, her composed demeanor and swift actions impressed Healer Fazbee. The old woodchuck offered her an apprenticeship. On that day, the offending speech habit faded into history and the girl gained a purpose.
It seemed such a shame disturbing the slumbering hedgehog. With a gentle grip, Tassel shook the foot sticking from under the blanket. The steady breathing became a sharp snort and the hedgehog snapped out of her deep sleep. When she sat up, the hedgehog came within inches of her face. Tassel knew Shortspike saw something that often induced nightmares for the newest residents of the dormitory because of her scarred face. Familiarity over these many years removed that initial revulsion.
Shortspike's inquisitive look brought a smile to Tassel as she whispered; afraid her voice might awaken the other sleeping creatures. "You're needed in the Infirmary."
The hedgehog threw back her covers, now wide-awake. She did not say a word, but grabbed the garments she laid out just before bedtime. While Shortspike dressed, the Badgermom moved to the curtain separating her bed from her neighbor's.
Tassel pushed back the separating curtains and gazed upon the slumbering mouse, Kurella. Here was a girl who found the healing arts so interesting that for the last two years, Redwall's residents teased the Healer by telling him he had gained a mouse for a daughter. Many thought her fondness for the Healer reflected the need for a father figure in her life, which Tassel never discouraged. Everyone assumed the mouse would outgrow her childhood fondness for the old woodchuck Healer, and move on to other pursuits.
Instead, the mouse became enthralled by the workings of the Infirmary. Within days of her introduction to the place, she had begged the woodchuck for a chance at working with him. Kurella immersed herself into the teachings, determined to learn all she could. The Healer hadn't accepted Kurella as an "official" apprentice yet due to her age, but come the next summer solstice, the mouse would enter her teen years and the Healer promised her a position at that time.
Unlike Shortspike, the mouse took a bit more persuasion before she woke. When Tassel informed her that she was needed in the Infirmary, Kurella's movements became a blur. One paw threw the blankets off the bed, while the other yanked her nightgown over her head. By the time Kurella smoothed her blouse and had fastened the last button, Shortspike stood waiting, her bare foot tapping an insistent beat on the wooden floor.
"I don't need you waking everyone else because you're impatient, Shortspike." Tassel's glare froze the hedgehog's paw above the floor. For a brief moment, the Badgermom wondered if she hadn't pushed both of her young charges too far. "Best we not waste our time here when the Healer is waiting in the hallway."
Tassel led them through her private chamber. A few more quick steps and they were hustled out the door and into the waiting arms of the Healer. Without so much as a "by your leave," the woodchuck rushed the two youngsters towards the Infirmary. She stood in the doorway. The retreating trio's pace changed from a trot and into a near run as they turned the far corner.
Closing her door, Tassel glanced at her bed and the open doorway between her quarters and the Dormitory. For a short time, she debated the merit of doing a walkabout over the pleasure of a warm bed. Duty won and without any second thoughts, she passed her bed.
"Might as well see what those other little beasties are doing." Her smile belied the cavalier sound her words may have conveyed to any interloper eavesdropping on her private conversation.
She hesitated by the first two curtained alcoves, debating the merits of making the now vacant beds or leaving the mess until morning. Tassel compromised; she smoothed the bed linens and collected the discarded nightshirts. The blankets and pillows could stay where they fell until morning.
As she walked down the aisle created by the pulled privacy curtains, she paused at each bed. It took no more than a sharp ear and a quick glance. Some of the children wheezed or snored, but every bed had a dibbun that slept peacefully.
At the last bed, that idyllic image faded like smoke on a windy day. The child rested on her side and remained quiet, but Tassel suspected the female mouse had awakened during the recent commotion. She saw the nearby hamper and discarded the garments she carried before retuning to the last alcove. The twitching of the female mouse's ear confirmed her suspicions.
"Sarweed, did we wake you, dearie?" Tassel's paw stroked the girl's shoulder as she sat on the child's bed. "You should try and rest."
"I'm not sleepy, Mother T."
She detected some problem in those few words. At the age of fourteen and after some twelve years under her care, Tassel knew this girl's mannerisms. Sarweed had been the first new child placed with her since her elevation to Badgermom, which made her special. Over the intervening years, Tassel learned much about the girl's past. Orphaned when a sudden rainstorm caused a mud slide, the baby remained in the care of the squirrel running the nursery. After she learned to walk and talk, Sarweed moved to the Dibbun Dormitory and came under Tassel's control.
"I can tell when something is bothering you, Sarweed." Shifting her position on the bed, Tassel drew the mouse against her side. She felt the tension slip a fraction and waited, wondering what confidence they might share.
"How do you get a boy you like to like you?"
So that was the thing keeping you awake. Over the last few days, Sarweed seemed to have gone from thinking the male of her species some form of a horrid monster to something both desirable and unobtainable. It affected the girl's schoolwork and no amount of coaxing kept her mind focused. For her, this phase of child rearing ventured into unknown territory.
"It was never a problem for me as there were no male badgers nearby." No sooner had the words escaped Tassel's throat than she wanted to kick herself. This girl needs advice and I've just admitted having none. "I suppose you have to try being attractive to them. Show interest in what they do and hope the boy you want will accept your attentions. Not always easy."
"Not always easy." The light snort from the mouse made her feel so inadequate. Sarweed returned the light squeeze to her shoulder by hugging Tassel. They sat like this for several seconds before the mouse whispered. "I suppose it would help showing more interest in whatever fascinates him. It can be hard finding a girl fun if she doesn't know anything about beekeeping."
That was the extent of her revelation. Yet Sarweed disclosed far more than she thought. Tassel knew about the budding relationships growing between her and several of the boys in her class since the teen mouse had developed into quite a beauty. She wanted to know which of the male mice the girl considered worthy without prying into her personal business. Now that Sarweed had given away his identity, Tassel relaxed.
She knew the one that delivered hives from a nearby village. A hard worker, though his father sometimes bullied the boy. Tassel had traded him a cross-stitched sampler for a jar of honey, which both thought a fair exchange. The only thing she couldn't recall was if the fellow attended school here or if his parents kept him working in the fields.
Such things will have to wait until morning. She gave Sarweed a kiss to her forehead. Tassel tucked the teen into her bed. A gentle ruffle to her ears and even in the darkened room, she saw the girl smile. She left Sarweed's bedside and return to her own warm mattress. Her steps took her down the aisle by the children's footlockers and she checked one more time, making sure all still slept.
Once back in her own room, Tassel removed her robe and draped it over a chair. Tassel lifted the blanket, tucking it snug under her muzzle. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. An insistent clanging sounded demanding her immediate attention. She reached over, flipped the alarm button off, and glared at the clock.
Robbed, that's what just happened to me. Some visiting otter has a pup and I wind up losing a whole night's sleep. At least that's what my tired body is telling me. If those youngsters were anyone else's responsibility, or if this wasn't a school day, I would burrow under these covers and sleep 'til noon.
Then reality set in and once again, she threw back her blankets and got out of her warm bed. She padded over to her private washroom and after a vigorous scrub to her face, felt wide awake. Tassel slid a tight-fitting dress over her head.
Sometimes I regret not having a looking glass, but I feel better without one.
Her paws smoothed whatever wrinkles marred the fabric. Unlike other badgers, Tassel didn't worry about her tail. When her paw ran across the back of her dress, she remembered her time as a child when such an appendage existed. Then she recalled how a Healer removed it. It gave Tassel a most painful lesson about her status as a slave.
Am I all that better off because I'm living here at Redwall? I'm no freer than I was back in my homeland.
As Tassel sat on her bed, she muttered. "So why do you stay?" Her eyes wandered towards the closed door between her quarters and the dormitory. "I have a purpose, even if many of the elders think me unworthy."
With a flick of her wrist, she unfurled her stirrup stockings and slipped them over her feet. As Tassel fastened her sandals, she made one final check that the stockings remained tight to her thighs and just below her knees. This way, they covered the bare ring about each ankle that marked the previous placement of prison shackles. Removing her gloves, she stretched the fingerless fabric over her paws, hiding similar markings that encircled each wrist.
Must I be reminded every day that I am a criminal, here by the whim of an Abbot who tolerates my presence? It seems no matter what I do, these residents will never forget my past. I try living by their standards and still they consider me unworthy of forgiveness.
Tassel walked to the passageway between her quarters and the Dormitory, she opened the door and latched it against the wall. She lifted a wooden mallet that rested by the wall and struck the sounding board three times. As the sound echoed through the room, the dibbuns stirred. Tassel could see children moving and heard the sound of curtains being drawn. She cranked open the cover to the skylight that ran down the middle of the room.