Chapter Seven

"She looks so ... peaceful," Vanessa said as she pawed away a tear.

With her in the Infirmary were Geoff, Brother Trevor, Sister Grace and Abbot Arlyn. Old Sister Marisol lay still upon one of the room's beds, eyes closed and face relaxed in the slumber from which there was no awakening.

"I still don't believe it," Grace sniffled. "She'd asked me up here to darn some old pillows whose seams were coming apart. One moment we were chatting away about the wonderful weather, then suddenly she said she was feeling very tired and went over to rest in that overstuffed highback chair in the corner. I thought she'd merely fallen asleep, but when I tried to rouse her after I'd stitched another pillow, I discovered she'd passed away ... just like that."

"At least she went peacefully, and among friends," Trevor said solemnly. "We should all be lucky enough to leave this world in such a manner."

"But remember, Brother Trevor," said the Abbot, "it is always difficult to lose such a friend as Sister Marisol, under any circumstances. We may take solace from the fact that she lived a full and happy life right up to her very last day, that she knew no suffering at the end, and that she now no doubt dwells in a place where such a thing can never touch her. But that does not dull the sense of loss for those who must live on without her. I shall declare a period of mourning until midday tomorrow, at which time we will have a special lunch in her memory. In the meantime, we must prepare our dear departed Sister for her final rest."

Sister Grace gave another sniff as she turned to leave. "I'll go get started on a burial shroud. She deserves the best we can give her."

"Thank you, Sister," Abbot Arlyn said to Grace as she left the Infirmary.

Vanessa stared down at Marisol's peaceful form. The sunlight streaming through the window at the head of the bed bathed her in a benevolent glow, almost like a halo around her whole body. Looking at her thus, it was almost impossible to believe she wasn't simply sleeping, ready to wake at any moment.

"I keep thinking," Vanessa said, "that if I'd been here, I might have been able to do something ... "

Abbot Arlyn laid a paw on her shoulder. "Now, my child, it's natural to feel that way, but you really mustn't. It was her time, and nobeast here had any say in the matter. And now that Sister Marisol has left us, you are our new Infirmary keeper."

"But ... but ... " the mousemaid stammered. "I'm too young! She had seasons' more worth of healer's arts to teach me - I'm not ready for it!"

"Nevertheless," the Abbot stated gently but firmly, "you were her apprentice, and although your tutelage has now been cut short, you still know more of the healing skills from your brief time studying under Sister Marisol than any other Redwaller. You still have much to learn, that is true. But the position is now yours and yours alone."

Vanessa was on the verge of tears. "But however will I manage?"

"You're not the first young Redwaller to be thrust into a position of responsibility before she felt she was ready," Arlyn said sympathetically. "Why, we've had Abbesses who were only a season or two older than you are now. Experience is often the best teacher of all; and to become really good at something, sometimes you just have to roll up your sleeves and do it for awhile. Nobeast is expecting miracles of you, my child. We will be patient with you as you grow into your new role. And you may take comfort in the knowledge that you won't be completely on your own in tending the Infirmary."

"What do you mean, Father Abbot?" Vanessa asked him.

"Well, for starters, " Arlyn explained, "I know a thing or two about the healing arts myself, as is expected of all our Abbots and Abbesses - I just never had much chance to practice those skills with so accomplished a healer as Marisol around. So, if some challenge should come your way and you feel overwhelmed, don't hesitate to call on me. I may not have the answer myself, but two heads are almost always better than one."

The older mouse took her gently by the paw and led her away from Marisol's deathbed, over to one corner of the Infirmary where the deceased healer had kept a small desk and a few short wall shelves full of books and parchments. "And mine will not be the only help you will have, or even the best. Here are all the medical journals that Sister Marisol kept during her many seasons as Redwall's healer. Recipes, procedures, symptoms and cures for just about every malady likely to cross this threshold. And right alongside them -" Abbot Arlyn traced his pawtip along the spines of the bound volumes, " - you'll find the diaries of old Father Darrow, who was Abbot before me, and the keeper of this Infirmary even before that. Here, Vanessa, you have at your disposal the lifetime of learning from two of your predecessors, anytime you need them. There are even more down in the archives - a great many more, no doubt, going back to the earliest ages of Redwall's history - but these dozen or so here should keep you busy for awhile, and contain most of what you will need to know."

Vanessa felt as if a great weight had suddenly been lifted from her shoulders. Of course it would all work out fine. This was the calling for which she was being trained, and she would not shy away from it now. Every one of her fellow Redwallers would support her and help her out in any way that they could. Why, she'd even have the Abbot himself to call upon at any time of the day or night if she needed to. And, in a way, Sister Marisol would still always be with Vanessa, through the writings she'd left behind. The young mousemaid swore to herself right then and there that she would read every one of these volumes from cover to cover - yes, and Darrow's too - until she knew their contents by heart. There would be time; Redwallers were generally a healthy lot, and Vanessa was confident that it would be some time into her tenure as Infirmary keeper before she'd be confronted by anything worse than an upset stomach or minor scrapes and bruises. The crush of responsibility which had weighed upon her so heavily mere moments before was gone, leaving a sense of enthusiasm and purpose in its place.

She turned and looked at Arlyn. "Thank you, Father Abbot. I wasn't sure I'd be able to do what was expected of me, but now I know I can."

"That's the spirit!" he smiled at her. "Now, why don't you and Geoff run along and lend Maura a paw in looking after the little ones? I'm sure she'd appreciate the help. Brother Trevor, Sister Grace and I will make Sister Marisol ready for her final rest."

00000000000

The children of Brother Trevor's class had been promised cake, and not even the sad occurrence of Sister Marisol's unexpected passing would deny them their sweet reward. Vanessa and Geoff entered Cavern Hole to find empty plates and full bellies - if a hungry youngbeast's belly can ever be said to be truly full - and spirits generally high as sticky paws were delightedly licked clean and then licked some more.

Mother Maura the badger presided over the merry melee, while Friar Hugh and Jovey the hedgehog cellarkeeper worked at entertaining the youngsters. Balla was singing her cellar song again for her classmates, but this time her uncle Jovey accompanied her with his deep baritone, and took a solo with a new verse he'd composed since the previous night.

Maura took Vanessa aside. "This happy crew is all the doing of your birdfriend, I want you to know. When they came down here they were a weepy and morose bunch, and Friar Hugh's magnificent trifle was about to go to waste, since they were all too saddened to have much of an appetite. Well, that sparrow jumps up in front of them and starts singing that silly tonguetwister of his. He performed it twice, all the way through, and by the end of the second round, most of his classmates were joining in. Then some of the others wanted to sing their songs again, and that made them hungry enough to tuck into Hugh's cake. Balla's on her third go-round of that cellar song - Jovey keeps thinking up new bits to stick into it that he wants to try out." The big badger shook her head in admiring wonder. "I'd say Highwing's got natural leadership ability to match his wordplay talents. He's made this gang forget all about their sadness over Sister Marisol for the moment. I think it's due in large part to the example you've set for him, Vanessa. You've done a good job with that bird."

Vanessa was not so quick to take all the credit herself. "We've all done our share to make Highwing feel like part of Redwall's family, even if I am the one he's most fond of. But now that Sister Marisol's gone and I'm to be the Abbey's new full-time Infirmary keeper, I'll be way too busy to spend the kind of time with him that he's accustomed to. Whatever shall I do about that?"

Maura glanced across Cavern Hole to where Highwing had boisterously joined in on Balla and Jovey's cellar song, adding a new verse of his own. The badger smiled.

"I've the feeling that Sparra's going to be just fine, Vanessa. Just fine."

00000000000

Late that afternoon Sister Marisol was laid to rest.

Every Redwaller, from the smallest babe to the oldest of the old, turned out for the somber ceremony. Montybank and Alexander tolled out a solemn requiem song on the Matthias and Methuselah bells, then came down from the belltower to join their fellow mourners.

The moles had dug a neat and proper rectangle of grave under an ancient peach tree in the orchard, a spot which had been a favorite of the old Infirmary keeper. Marisol lay now within the shallow open pit, wrapped in the luxurious red and violet burial shroud that Sister Grace had produced. Beneath the quiet shade of the flowering branches, pierced here and there by slanting rays of the westering sun, Abbot Arlyn recited a prayer for the dead.

"Friends and seasons come and go,

Life plays out, the page is turned.

Eternal cycle we all know,

Children from their elders learned.

Friends departed lie below,

Enjoy the peace that they have earned.

Forever in our hearts their glow;

How bright their spirits burned."

The Abbot stepped back from the grave, making room for others to approach. As was the custom at Redwall, many of the Abbeyfolk had brought small keepsakes and mementos with them, small gifts of parting to be buried alongside the deceased to help ease the spirit on its journey into the next world. The offerings ranged from simple swaths of cloth and pinecones to tiny sculptures and handiworks. There was no sense of competition to the proceedings; the simplest gifts were as welcome as the most extravagant.

When everybeast else had presented their tokens, Highwing stepped forward to stand at the head of the grave. Bowing his head, he intoned:

"One young mouse did rescue me;

One old mouse did heal me.

Now the two are become one,

As the student takes on the teacher's role.

Redwall is in good paws,

But we will miss the one who's left us."

With that, Highwing plucked out one of the longer feathers from the wing Sister Marisol had mended, and laid it in the grave alongside the other Redwallers' gifts. It was a powerful gesture, and many of the onlookers wiped away fresh tears.

Vanessa stepped up to the grave's edge alongside the Abbot. In her paw she held the worn old sandal she'd used to fight off Highwing's attackers, and which Sister Marisol had hung beneath the sword of Martin in Great Hall. Now the young mousemaid stood regarding it in uncertainty.

"I thought it would be appropriate to bury this with her," Vanessa said, "but now I'm having second thoughts. What do you think, Abbot? Should we leave this where Sister Marisol hung it?"

"That decision is yours," Arlyn replied. "But, if it were up to me, I would think the better way to commemorate her would be to leave it on display in Great Hall, where it can always remind us of her wisdom and kindness. And remember, it honors your own bravery as much as anything. So, Sister Marisol may have placed that sandal with Martin's sword and shield partly as a jest, but there was also true wisdom in that deed. If it were my decision to make, I would leave it where it was."

Vanessa nodded. "Then I will. But, I didn't bring anything else to give Sister Marisol."

"Not to worry, my child." Arlyn patted her shoulder reassuringly. "By vowing to carry on as best you can in Sister Marisol's stead as Redwall's chief healer, yours is the greatest gift to her out of any of ours. Wherever she is now, I'm sure she's very proud of you."

Vanessa cheered up at these kind words. "Thank you, Father Abbot."

Arlyn raised his voice to address the entire assemblage. "This ceremony is concluded. Let us all go inside now, and leave it to Foremole to fill the good earth back in to make a proper burial mound. Tonight we'll have a simple meal of mourning, but tomorrow at noontide we'll hold a feast in Sister Marisol's memory, right here beneath these very trees that she held so dear. Thus will we honor her, in a fashion I'm sure she would have encouraged."

The assembled Redwallers broke away in small groups, ambling somberly in toward the main Abbey building. The last of the afternoon sun danced through the leafy treetops, bidding its own farewell to Redwall's departed healer.