Chapter Two

When she came to, Vanessa found herself lying in bed in the Abbey Infirmary, with Sister Marisol tending her wound and what seemed half of Redwall gathered around her. She winced as Marisol swabbed out her injury with a hot towel.

"Well, well! Look who's decided to rejoin the land of the living!" the kindly old healer mouse smiled. "You are one lucky mousemaid, my little lady. That ruffian's beak went right into you like a spearhead. A little bit lower and it might have pierced your lung. You could have died. Or, if he'd gone for your eyes, you could be blind right now."

"I covered up my face as soon as he attacked me," Vanessa said, almost absently. "He couldn't have blinded me. But ... what about the wounded chick? Did you rescue it? Is it all right?"

Abbot Arlyn laid a gentle but firm restraining paw on her uninjured shoulder, fearful that she might try to rise from her sickbed to seek out the baby bird. "There, there, my child, don't fret yourself. With so many caring and able paws at Redwall these days, do you really think we'd abandon a young and helpless creature in distress to fend for itself?" He pointed across the room to where two beds had been pushed aside and blankets laid on the floor to create a soft nest of sorts for the baby sparrow. "We didn't think it would be a good idea to to put it in a bed, since birds aren't accustomed to that sort of thing. It seems to have settled down for now, but we think it will live ... thanks to you."

"And you'll live," Sister Marisol said to Vanessa, "thanks to Montybank here." The healer mouse cast an admiring glance toward the young otter. "Be thankful you have such a brave friend."

Monty waved the praise aside. "Nary 'alf so brave as Nessie t'was 'erself. Never seen anybeast put itself in such danger fer th' sake of another."

"A regular little warriormaid we've got here," Brother Trevor, the Abbey Recorder and historian mouse, joked from behind the Abbot. "We might have to start calling you Mariel!" Several of the others chuckled at this reference to a fighting mousemaid from Redwall's early history.

Vanessa strained to see past all her caregivers and wellwishers to get a better look at the creature she'd risked her life to save. "Can I go see it?"

"Absolutely not," Sister Marisol said with authority. "You're not to leave this bed until I say so, and that won't be for a full day at least." She finished cleansing Vanessa's shoulder wound, putting aside the bloody cloths and basin of warm water. "Now then, we'll just slap a herbal poultice over this to keep off infection and speed up the healing, then bind it in place, some bandage wrappings ... hmm, I think I'll also put your right paw in a sling, so that when you do start moving around again, you won't put too much strain on the shoulder area. Yes, that should do it. Give it a few days, and you should be good as new!"

Vanessa bit her tongue and swallowed any further protest, forcing herself to hold still while Sister Marisol finished treating her. After all, she hoped to be Infirmary keeper herself someday, and she knew the value of a cooperative patient. She'd hardly be able to fairly chastise any future charges of hers for being unruly if she didn't set a good example right here and now.

Marisol glanced up at the many faces of the creatures crowding the room. "Okay, now, I'm sure Abbot Arlyn and Vanessa both appreciate everybeast's concern and thank you all for coming up to see how she's doing, but I need space for my work here. Abbot, if you could please have everyone leave who isn't part of my staff? Once we get this young mousemaid all patched up, she's going to need her rest, and we can't have this crowd here then."

"A very good idea, Sister Marisol." Arlyn turned to address all the wellwishers. "We've all seen that Vanessa is going to be just fine, and given her our regards. Let's leave her alone now, and head back down to Cavern Hole. She's in very capable paws here, and we'll only be in the way."

Montybank raised a flipper. "Beggin' yer pardon, marm," the young otter said to Marisol, "but may'aps I c'd stay? I'm sure Nessie'd like a close friend by 'er side, wouldn't ya, Ness?"

"Me, too," Geoff voiced up.

"And me," Alexander put in.

"Wellll ... all right. But just the three of you," Marisol said, seeing the hopeful look on Vanessa's face. "But expect to lend a paw when I say so. No idlers in my Infirmary!"

"Thank you," Geoff, Alexander and Monty said together.

"I'd also like Brother Trevor to stay too, please," Vanessa requested.

The historian mouse came closer to her bedside. "I'd be happy to, Vanessa. If Sister Marisol says it's okay. But ... why me?"

"I have some questions," Vanessa said. "And I think you'd be the best one to answer them."

00000000000

Once Sister Marisol was finished getting Vanessa's wound properly bandaged and her paw slung, the old healer mouse turned her attention to the baby sparrow. While she and her helpers tended to the bird, Vanessa lay back on her propped pillows and had Brother Trevor tell her all about the creatures who dwelt in Redwall's roof spaces.

The Abbey historian sat on the edge of the bed alongside hers, while Geoff, Montybank and Alexander gathered around closely; they were as eager to hear what Trevor had to say as Vanessa was.

"The sparrows, or Sparra as they are more formally known, have inhabited Redwall's high loft almost from the time our Abbey was founded," Trevor began. "Other kinds of birds have lived there from time to time, occasionally clashing with the Sparra and driving them out. But always the sparrows return to reclaim their home. They are as much a part of Redwall as we are."

Alexander scowled. "Why do we let such vicious and dangerous creatures live in our home?"

"Well," Trevor answered, "the way Redwall was built, there's no stairway or ladder up to the very highest attic spaces. That means there's no way for us ground-living creatures to get up there from inside the Abbey, although a very brave squirrel climber such as yourself, Alexander, might be able to climb up there from the outside. For the most part, however, our roofspaces are the domain of winged creatures alone.

"But the Sparra have not always been unfriendly toward the mice of Redwall. In fact, long ago in the time of Matthias the Warrior and his son Mattimeo, there was great friendship between us, and all of Redwall was united. Sparra and Redwallers fought side by side in several wars to protect our Abbey against those who would enslave us all. To the best of my knowledge they still, to this day, refer to their roofspace home as Warbeak Loft, in honor of a Sparra queen who befriended Matthias and fell in battle helping to save young Mattimeo from slavers - ah, that's a story worth the telling!"

Trevor shrugged sadly. "But alas, those days are long past. It has been many generations since we last had any true friendship or alliance with the Sparra. They are very flighty creatures, if you'll pardon the pun, aggressive and quick of temper. Once upon a time, they were the valued allies of Redwall. But those same qualities that make them valued allies also make them terrible enemies. Nowadays, we leave each other alone as much as possible, and let one another go about our own business. They have the roofspaces to call home and all of Mossflower Woods in which to forage, and we have all the rest of the Abbey. It is an arrangement that seems to work - " he cast a glance at Vanessa's bandaged shoulder, " - most of the time, anyway."

Vanessa asked, "Do you suppose we and the Sparra might become friends again someday?"

"It is possible," Trevor replied, "although if such a thing should come to pass, it would have to happen in its own time, and in its own way."

"Pfaw!" Monty puffed out his whiskers. "Th' way those nastybeaks ganged up on pore Nessie 'ere, I don't reckon that we'll see peace with 'em in our days!"

A pained and frantic squawk from across the Infirmary made them all glance over to where Sister Marisol and her helpers were doing their best to treat the baby sparrow's injuries. It looked like they had their paws full.

"Why do you suppose they were trying to kill it?" Geoff wondered. "It's just a little baby bird, absolutely harmless."

"I can only guess," said Brother Trevor, "but I would imagine that once they saw how badly it had been injured in the fall, their customs called for it to be killed in order to end its suffering."

The four youngbeasts were horrified. "That's barbaric!" Vanessa cried.

"Only savages would treat their own young like that," Alexander agreed.

Trevor held up a paw. "Let us not judge them too harshly. Remember, not all creatures are skilled in the healing arts. To the Sparra, those injuries may well have been beyond their ability to mend. Vanessa just happened to be in the right place at the right time to intervene on the chick's behalf. Now, instead of death, that Sparra will have another chance at life."

"Oh, I do hope so," said Vanessa. "Do you think Sister Marisol will be able to cure the poor thing?"

"If anybeast can, it will be our good Sister," Trevor answered. "It has been several generations since Redwall was last graced with a healer of Marisol's talents. All we can do is wait and see ... "

And so they did, huddled in the scant warmth of Vanessa's bedside lamp while the gray day faded to early winter twilight outside and the healer of Redwall Abbey struggled and strove to repair the unfortunate young creature who'd fallen from their roof.

00000000000

It was full night by the time Sister Marisol was finished with the chick. Seeing that her other patient was still wide awake in her bed and eagerly awaiting an assessment of the baby Sparra's condition, Marisol padded over to Vanessa's bedside to give the young mousemaid a report.

"The leg was only sprained, thank goodness, and not fully broken," the old healer said. "Don't know what I would have done if it had been a break - birds are so fidgety by nature, I don't think I'd have been able to settle it down enough for the bone to mend and knit properly. Fortunately, that wasn't a concern ...

"The wing, on the other paw, was quite another matter. It was definitely broken, in two different places. I set the bones and splinted the wing as best I could, but I'll be the first to admit that I have almost no experience treating the ills of the feathered folk. With luck, it may someday be able to fly, but I'm not optimistic. Those were messy breaks, and even if they knit, the shape of the wing might be affected. Only time will tell."

"The important thing is that you saved it," Vanessa said.

"Although," added Geoff, "if it's not able to fly anymore, it will never be able to rejoin its own kind up in the roof spaces. It will have to live the rest of its life down here, with us."

"I'm sure Nessa wouldn't mind that too much," Alexander kidded. "I think she's about ready to adopt that baby bird for her own child!"

Sister Marisol's face grew grave. "I'm afraid that's not the only reason it will probably have to stay down here. I wasn't sure whether I should tell you this, Vanessa, but you saved that bird's life at the risk of your own, so I suppose you have the right to know. I may not be an expert with birds, but there are some things that would be obvious to any healer. That sparrow most probably did sprain its leg when it hit the ground, but its wing wasn't broken by any fall, or I'm an otter!"

"What do you mean?" asked Vanessa.

"The pattern of the breaks was all wrong," Marisol explained, "and besides, there were beak marks over the wound."

The four youngbeasts gasped as one. "You don't mean ... "

Marisol nodded. "My guess is, that chick's wing was broken before it ever fell from the roof ... and it was done by those same bullies who flew down after it. They must have been trying to finish off what they started."

"You think they pushed it off intentionally?" Trevor asked.

"Either that, or it fell in the panic of trying to escape their attack."

"But, it's just a liddle bird!" Montybank protested. "Wot could it've done to make them ruffians wanna 'urt it?"

"Yeah," Geoff put in, "we thought maybe they were trying to kill it because it was injured beyond hope. But if they're the ones who injured it in the first place ... "

"The savage brutes!" Alex spat.

Brother Trevor sighed sadly. "We can only guess what plots and intrigues go on in the court of the Sparra. This may have been part of some family feud, or a simple act of mindless cruelty. We may never know for certain. But I think it's safe to say that Matthias and Mattimeo would be ashamed of such behavior from their onetime allies. The Sparra have fallen far indeed since those long bygone days, if this is how they act toward one of their own, much less a Redwall mousemaid."

Vanessa craned her neck to look toward the sparrow chick where it sat on the floor upon its bed of rumpled blankets. "Do you suppose it's all right to move it, Sister Marisol?"

"Move it? Whatever for?"

"Well, it looks so scared and lonely all the way over there in the corner. I really think it ought to have somebeast close by to comfort it during the night. And since you've expressly forbidden me from getting up out of my bed, the only way we can be near each other is if you carry it over and bed it down next to me."

Marisol was skeptical. ""I think it needs rest and solitude more than a friendly voice. We don't want to do anything that might disturb it."

Montybank spoke up on Vanessa's behalf. "I dunno, Sister. If'n you was an injured baby beast all alone 'mongst strangers, an' yore own kin 'ad just tried t' slay you, wouldn't you kinda like to 'ave a friendly face 'n' kindly voice t' soothe over yore fears?"

"I'm sure it would help," said Vanessa. "Even if it's too young to understand my words, it could tell from the tone of my voice that I'm a friend. Let's face it, the poor thing won't heal very well if it wakes up from a nightmare and flaps around on that wing you've just spent all afternoon splinting up."

Marisol mulled it over. "Very well. But you're in better shape to move than that chick is. If you promise to be very careful, I'll let you move to another bed over there so you can sleep near it."

"Oh, thank you!" Vanessa's face lit up.

The old healer pulled back Vanessa's covers and supervised while Monty and Alex helped their mousemaid friend over to the bed nearest the Sparra chick. Wearing nothing but sling and bandages, Vanessa shivered a bit as she crossed the chilly stone floor. Noticing this, Marisol stripped the warm bedclothes off her patient's now-vacant bed and carried them over to the new one. "Here, let me make this up for you, so you won't be getting between cold sheets. You can use both blankets once you're tucked in - it does get rather drafty up here on such cold winter nights. Tomorrow, you can move back down to the warmth of Cavern Hole."

Vanessa stood gazing down at the Sparra chick; it returned her gaze with clear black eyes. She saw that it was shaking just as she was, but whether it was with cold or nervousness she couldn't tell. The baby creature certainly didn't seem fearful of her. Playing a hunch, she reached over to where Sister Marisol was about to put her warm blanket on the new bed and took it from the old healer mouse. "Here, let me have that a moment, please. I want to try something."

Marisol relinquished the blanket. Vanessa knelt down to the sparrow and tried to cover it as if with a shawl. Having the free full use of only one paw made the task awkward, and the chick fidgeted and sought to shrug off the blanket.

"I'm afraid you're wasting your time," Marisol told her. "We tried covering it before, but it won't sit still for it. I guess birds don't like to be covered up with anything."

"But it looks cold." Vanessa started cooing to the chick in a soothing tone, gently stroking the top of its beak. "There there, don't be afraid, nobeast's going to hurt you. We're all your friends here, we only want to help get you better and make you feel safe and comfortable. Please let me put this nice, soft, warm blanket around you. You don't want to be cold, do you? No, of course you don't. So just sit still, that's a good little Sparra, and I'll get you all cozy and toasty."

The tone of her soft voice and the comforting pawstrokes upon its bill totally lulled the baby sparrow. Vanessa was now able to pull the blanket completely around the bird, tucking the loose ends and edges in to make a tentlike cloak over the chick, splinted wing and all. When she was done, the sparrow sat still and peaceful, leaving the blanket in place. It no longer appeared to be quivering. Opening its beak, it let out a single mellow and contented chirp.

"Well, I'll be ... " Sister Marisol was almost at a loss for words. "Vanessa, you are a miracle worker!"

"Shh ... not so loud, Sister Marisol. We don't want to startle it." Vanessa softly patted the chick's head. "It trusts me now, but I don't know if anybeast else should come near it for awhile."

The Infirmary keeper wasn't accustomed to being put in her place by one of her own patients, and wasn't about to set a precedent, not even for one who'd comforted and quieted a troubled creature that nobeast else could soothe.

"Well, you've taken care of that problem," Marisol remarked, "and all it cost you was your own warm blanket. So these chilly ones will have to do. Into bed now, Vanessa. You still have some healing to do yourself. Come along - you'll still be close enough to your new friend that you'll practically be able to reach out and touch him from your bed, so you'll have no excuse for not staying put. I'll have Friar Hugh send up a nice dinner tray, and then I want you to get some sleep ... and I'll brook no arguments!"

"Okay." Giving the sparrow chick one last pat on the head, Vanessa went over to her own fresh-made bed, sat down and swung her legs up and under the covers. Monty and Alex helped pull the blanket up over her.

Sister Marisol stroked her whiskers thoughtfully. "Hmmm ... perhaps I should get you a nightshirt to wear. Although I'm not sure how we'd get it on over your sling ... "

"Oh, I'll be fine," Vanessa assured the older mouse, snuggling down into her bed in an exaggerated manner as if to prove her point. "Just throw an extra blanket on top of me from one of the other beds, and I'll be set for the night."

"If you're sure ... "

Montybank gave Marisol a conspiratorial nudge with his elbow. "Works in yore favor, Sister, if'n bedrest is wotcha want from this mousemaid. She's not very likely to get up an' go cavorting about th' place in the buff, eh?"