CHAPTER EIGHTY-EIGHT

" ... an' that's how we defeated th' Skara-Drinn stoat horde up North," Truax concluded. "Hardly th' most formidable foe we faced in Urthblood's campaigns - pushovers compared to th' wildcats, or some o' Tratton's crews - but, as you c'n hear, some o' th' tactics we were forced inta was pretty ingenious, consid'rin' how we hadta come up wth 'em rightin th' heat o' battle."

"Impressive," Harth acknowledged with a nod. The two rats sat on the step of the gatehouse cottage, its door standing open to air it out after the previous day's fire. With door and windows wide, the gatehouse might - just might - be made fit for the village rats to sleep in again this coming night.

"That's what you seem t' say after all my Northlands battle tales," Truax said to his fellow rat commander. "You've heard enuff by now t' know Urthblood ain't a beast to be trifled with - on any level." The former captain glanced around the sunny midday Abbey grounds, his gaze coming to settle on the refugee encampment over by the orchard. "Surprised you hit me up for another story at a time like this. Shouldn't you be over there, helpin' calm yer rats an' keepin' 'em in line over their upset 'bout Lattie?"

"Grota can see t' that well enuff on 'is own ... an' after what happened in the Infirmary yesterday, I don't imagine any of 'em'll step too far outta line over Lattie. The Abbess might not be their favorite beast right about now, but the fact that enuff able Abbey fighters bucked her authority an' went out after Lattie anyway has gone a long way toward smoothin' thing over. It'll all work out."

"An' if they don't get Lattie back?"

"Then I reckon there'll be a whole lot more smoothin' over t' do."

"Hm. I'd still think you'd wanna be over there with 'em, nice as this spot is here, instead o' pickin' my brain fer more war stories just like th' ones I've already toldja many times already."

"Never can know too much about yer enemies, can ya?" Harth flashed Truax a fang-filled, conspiratorial grin. "An' you know that badger better'n almost anybeast at Redwall, exceptin' mebbe that squirrel queen up in th' sickbay, an' she'd never tell me anything of worth."

Truax raised his eyebrows. "Y' ain't thinkin' of goin' up 'gainst Urthblood, are ya?"

"I got fighters, an' they're pretty good. An' given th' way things're goin', I'm not too sure we'll be able t' count on Redwall's protection ferever. Time may come we find ourselves outside these walls, through our own choice or no, an' I'd like to be as ready as I can if that day comes."

"That day comes, we're all either dead or in chains, mate. You don't fight Urthblood; you get slaughtered by 'im. You think you'd stand any chance 'gainst him at all? Lemme tell you, if he ever decided t' throw ev'rything he's got against Redwall, this Abbey - even with all its squirrels, even with all its otters, even with its Long Patrol hares, an' even with th' Guosim at their side too - wouldn't stand against such an assault. Redwall would fall. So, given that, see how silly yer talk about throwin' yer few paltry rats up against him is?"

"An' yet Redwallers're out takin' on his forces while we're sittin' here."

"Takin' on his forces? You mean half a dozen Gawtrybe with their arrows all gummed up, an' a pawful o' shrews they already battered their way past? Hardly th' same as a full-scale engagement, is it?"

"From what I heard, it wasn't th' full force that battered those shrews inta oblivion, t'was just that badger 'imself. I'd say havin' a beast like that on yer side'll even the odds in any fight."

"Hrmmm. Still just one beast, mate."

"Same could be said fer yer Urthblood."

"He ain't my Urthblood. Not no more."

"So, you reckon our Sodexo could take 'im in a fair fight?"

"Hmm. Now that's an int'restin' bit o' speculation, friend. If'n Urthblood still had both 'is paws, he'd wipe up anybeast who thought t' challenge 'im, be they badger or no. But as it is now? Might be a fair match, at least as far as brute strength t' brute strength. Prob'ly still give the edge t' Urthblood, tho - that creature's uncanny, in th' way he knows things that can't be known, an' what's t' come. Hard t' best a beast like that."

"Yah, I reckon so." The two looked up to see three of their fellow rats approaching: Castor, Mathurin and the heavy-bellied Turma. They stopped before the gatehouse entrance, and Latura's brother addressed Harth.

"'scuse me, sir, but have you by any chance seen Palter around?"

"You mean that skinny one? What, he still hasn't turned up yet? Isn't he over by the orchard with ev'ryrat else?"

"Nay, not that we can find, an' we've looked. But the thing is, all of us rats from our home village have been stickin' t'gether, mostly. Well, yesterday was so confusin', with all th' pranks 'n' hornets an' then news Lattie had been snatched, an' then that scene in the Infirmary. An' last night t'was too smoky t' sleep in there like we been doin', so we kinda lost track of each other an' weren't really lookin' fer him, not with Lattie on our minds. But now 'ee's nowhere t' be found! We're startin' t' wonder whether those Gawtrybe might've snatched him as well."

"That one? Why would they? Lattie was th' one they wanted."

"Mebbe he an' Lattie were t'gether when it happened. Could be they took him too, or else gave 'im to the other Gawtrybe roundin' us all up. Could even be they slew 'im outright, an' left his body out in Mossflower somewhere. It's not like we'd have any way o' knowin', if they did."

"I'd love t' help you, but ye're askin' th' wrong rodent."

Castor show surprise at this. "Well, what rat should I ask?"

"Not rat. Mouse. I mean the Abbess. She claims she was there when they nabbed Lattie. She'd know if they got the scrawny one too."

"But ... wouldn't she o' said sumpthin' about it 'fore now?"

Harth gave the village rat an "oh please" look. "This Abbess? Th' one who turned this whole Abbey upside-down just so she could throw Lattie to those red-furred wolves, an' then topped it off by slayin' four other rats who rubbed her th' wrong way? Ye're countin' on her comin' clean to us, on anything?"

Truax snorted. "Some o' the others 've takin' t' calling her 'Blood Abbess.'"

Harth snickered. "That's a good 'un! Hadn't heard that one before. Tho', seems t' me 'Abbess Blood' would make more sense."

Turma sniffed indignantly at the two male rats blocking her way. "If ye're finished with yer paltry amusements, kindly move aside an' give me room t' pass. I wanna see whether our liddle house here's even close t' bein' habitable again. I'm not sleepin' another night on th' lawns in my delicate condition - not if I can help it."

"Whatever you say, Madam High-'n'-Mighty Ratmum to Be! Don't go gettin' yer tail in a twist!" Harth scooted aside on the stoop, allowing space for Turma and Mathurin to proceed into the gatehouse.

Truax sniggered at the ratwife's attitude. "Delicate condition, she sez! Only thing delicate on that 'un's the blade in 'er tongue! She allers like that?"

Harth nodded. "Fer th' time I've known 'er, yeah, pretty much. Tho' I never had much truck with th' family rats; too busy tendin' to important things."

The married couple reappeared mere moments later, Mathurin's whiskers twitching his concern to match his wife's. Both wore wide-eyed expressions, and neither Harth nor Truax immediately noted how Turma clutched her paws to her protruding belly.

"That was fast," Harth commented. "Still too smoky in there?"

"It ain't that, you idiot malebeast," Turma forced out between gritted teeth. "The babe's comin'!"

00000000000

"Nessa, I really do think you owe everybeast an explanation."

Vanessa sat at the head of the main table in Great Hall, taking her place there in anticipation of the midday meal. In a slight break from tradition, Maura had claimed the seat to the left of the Abbess; in fact, astute observers might have noted that the Badgermum had not strayed far from Vanessa's side all morning. This long before the commencement of serving, only a modest milling of kitchen helpers, table setters and early lunch arrivals bustled and meandered about the Hall, the workers going about their labors with unhurried ease and the diners ambling to their benches in anticipation of Friar Hugh's latest offerings.

The female mouse looked to her old friend with a studiously blank expression. "An explanation for what, Geoff?"

"Well, for ... for everything! For starters, why did you knowingly create such a potentially dangerous uproar yesterday with all those nasty hijinx? Having such young leverets risk drowning, and starting fires, and falling off the high wall ... and that's before we even get to the hornets you released!"

"Now, Geoff, we've already been over all this. I'd not yet had full contact with Latura when all of that occurred, so I was hardly acting as the responsible steward of Redwall that I am now. But nobeast was ever in any real danger. Martin saw to that."

"And that's another thing: I notice you've been playing rather fast and loose with the name of Martin ever since your miraculous return to yourself, invoking it whenever it's convenient to do so."

Vanessa's expression turned wide-eyed and innocent. "But surely, Geoff, you're not suggesting I refrain from doing so when I have valid reason to acknowledge Martin's part in these events?"

Geoff scowled and puffed out his whiskers, hovering alongside his own seat but not yet ready to take it. "Forget Martin then, for the moment. I don't know - that whole affair yesterday strikes me as just a tad too organized to have been conceived and put into motion by somebeast not entirely in its right mind. Just at what point during all that mayhem did you fully come back to yourself anyway?"

"When Redwall needed me to. And I honestly think you're trying to make this harder than it really needs to be, Geoff."

"Oh really? Then what of your conduct up in the Infirmary? An Abbess is supposed to hold life sacred, not take it so blithely! Over and above the question of just how you were able to perform such a feat in the first place ... "

"I am capable of terrible things when my Abbey is threatened."

"Like slaying a roomful of rats?"

"Like sending away a waif who wanted only to dwell here with her family in peace - the far worse transgression of the two. I regret not one iota my actions in the Infirmary; those ruffians got what was coming to them - although I assure you there was nothing blithe or cavalier about my decision to act as I did. Allowing Latura to be taken away, on the other paw, was a deed I deem as regrettable as it was necessary, and if it could be any other way, I would have it so."

"Yes, but the Infirmary - how did you do it?"

"Perhaps Martin was acting through me."

"Be ... careful," Maura muttered to herself, way under her breath.

Geoff looked to the badger. "Is something caught in your throat there, Maura? And why aren't you with the children? They need you at a time like this most of all."

"Hardly. Cyrus is handling our Abbey youths quite ably on his own these days, the Long Patrol are perfectly capable of looking after their leverets and babes, Deakyne and Neblett are seeing to their own mice and voles, Grayfoot and Judelka are tending Percival, and Winokur is presiding over the rat children with stories to help keep their minds off Latura. I'd say everybeast has things well in paw. My place is at my Abbess's side - now more than ever."

"And why should that be? Does it have anything to do with your meeting with Winokur up in my study last night?"

"My study," Vanessa calmly corrected.

"Yes, well, whatever! It all strikes me as somewhat ... conspiratorial, if I may speak plainly. Redwall's leader must not have the appearance of keeping secrets from one another in such times as these!"

Vanessa stuck out her lower lip. "No, we wouldn't want the appearance of secrets being kept, not at dangerous times such as these."

"Dangerous times," Maura echoed, staring meaningfully at Geoff.

"Dangerous ... and uncertain," Vanessa embellished.

A sudden understanding lit Geoff's eyes. "Ah. But do you really think Harth's rats are so distraught over Latura that they might seek to harm you, and that you need to have Maura guarding you at all times?"

Maura seemed surprised at the former Abbot's wide-of-the-mark conclusion. "Well, yes, I suppose there is that too."

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"Look at the bright side, Geoff," Vanessa interjected. "If anybeast succeeds in assassinating me, you'll get the Abbot's chair back all to yourself again ... and your study too."

"Nessa! Don't even joke about such a thing!"

"If I can't make light of myself at my own expense, then - " She abruptly stiffened, her voice cracking off in a choke as her spasming paw knocked over an empty water tumbler with a loud clatter. Geoff and Maura looked on in alarm, neither certain what to expect from their Abbess in her present state - although for very different reasons.

"Nessa!" the Badgermum said, reaching out to steady the Abbess with a massive paw on the mouse's shoulder. "Are you ... all right?"

"No," Vanessa replied shakily, regaining her voice and most of her composure. "No, I'm not. Sergeant Peppertail was just killed."

The other two gasped at this statement. "You've ... seen this?" Geoff probed.

"Seen it ... felt it ... call it what you will. It does not go well out in the Plains, and I fear the Sergeant will not be the only hare to fall this day. I should have acted more forcefully to keep them from going after Latura. This is only complicating matters."

"Complicating!?" Geoff burst out, drawing stares from others in Great Hall not close enough to be privy to their conversation. "Beasts are dying, Nessa! Redwallers!"

"The Long Patrol made it quite clear they are acting on their own in this, not as Redwallers. And I see creatures dying on both sides. The question now is, will Urthblood be as forgiving about losing fighters in this clash as we are?"

"You think the Long Patrol were right?" Maura asked. "That Urthblood will use this incident as an excuse to seek war with Redwall?"

"It is too soon to say. Right now, I think all his attention lies on delivering Latura to Salamandastron. But I am not about to predict what that entity will ultimately do."

"Entity?" Geoff echoed. "That's an odd word to use."

"It's the word that fits. Urthblood is both more and less than an ordinary beast. That's the only way I can think of him."

Across Great Hall, the main door slammed open and Turma staggered in, Mathurin at her side supporting her. Together they hastened straight to the stairs leading to the second floor, where they struggled up the steps with all the speed the laboring ratwife could manage in her present state.

"I wonder what that's all about?" Geoff mused.

"I should think that would be obvious, since it's the second time it's happened this season." Vanessa sighed. "One of these days, we really must look into having the Infirmary relocated to the ground floor. It would save so many ailing beasts a little extra strife. Geoff, if you'll excuse me, I suspect my services are needed elsewhere, since it appears Redwall is about to be graced by its second ratbabe of this young spring!"

00000000000

"No! Not her! Anybeast but her!"

If Vanessa had assumed her newly-returned healer's expertise would be welcomed by Redwall's Infirmary and its patients, Turma was about to disabuse her of that notion - at least as far as the Abbey's rat population was concerned.

The ratwife lay propped up in the bed Arlyn and Metellus had hastily shown her to, the pain of her contractions mixing on her face with the glare of enmity she directed Vanessa's way. Mathurin stood nervously at her bedside, wringing his paws in anxious anticipation.

"Don't be silly," Vanessa admonished the ratmum-to-be. "I've far more experience in such things than Arlyn and Metellus put together. You'd be a fool to spurn my assistance now."

"Then I'm a fool. But I want them, not you!"

"Now, Turma, mebbe she's right ... "

Turma turned her baleful glare on her husband at such temerity. "I ain't lettin' that ratslayer lay a paw on me, or my babe! The other two delivered Areti's babe just fine; I want 'em to deliver mine too!"

The rat mother in question lay two beds away, cradling her sleeping babe as she looked on at Turma's diatribe, while across the Infirmary Lady Mina likewise sat up in her bed, staring in amazement at this argument. But they were just onlookers here; the main players of this moment occupied the center of the room.

"But, Turm, don't we want th' best fer our - "

"You ain't th' one givin' birth here! I want them, not her!"

Arlyn looked to the Abbess. "Perhaps it's for the best, Nessa. Why don't you let Metellus and me handle this? It might be better if you stepped outside, since your presence seems to be upsetting our patient here at the time she least needs any additional stress."

Vanessa folded her paws and sighed. "Very well. It's against my better judgment, but if it's what everybeast wants, I'll abide by the majority opinion. Good luck, Turma, and I hope all goes well for you."

The ratwife ignored her, collapsing back onto her pillows and puffing out short breaths as she focused on nature's needs. As Arlyn and his badger apprentice moved forward to assist with the delivery, Vanessa withdrew to the hallway beyond, where she found Mother Maura waiting for her.

"I gather that didn't go over well?" the Badgermum asked, already surmising the answer herself.

"Less than swimmingly. And I fear it may be just the first taste of what I'll run into if I ever do resume my duties as Infirmary keeper on any kind of full-time basis."

"Well, can you really blame them, Nessa? After yesterday?"

"Blame them? Not at all, I suppose. But the day may come when I'll be left no choice but to minister to some of our rat guests, and they'll have no choice but to accept it, whatever their qualms or misgivings."

"Better you than me. I'll serve as Abbey Mother to some of their youngsters if I'm forced to it, but for now I'm just as happy to leave all of that to Winokur. He seems genuinely content to serve as their teacher and mentor, and bless him for it. And, I can't help noticing you still refer to them as 'guests.' Do you see them staying here for the longer term, or not?"

"That all depends on the Accord, doesn't it? And Urthblood, and his Gawtrybe."

"And Latura."

"Yes - and Latura. I'll not put them out as long as the Purge endures, provided they continue to behave. They could be here a long, long time ... or they could be gone by next season. It all depends on how events play out."

As the two of them started down the corridor, satisfied after hearing the healthy cries of the newborn rat that Arlyn and Metellus had indeed proven up to this latest challenge, the muted boom and bong of the Abbey's twin bells reached their ears. "At least we'll not be missing lunch over this," the badger mused.

Vanessa cocked her head. "Those aren't the lunch bells. That's some different tolling."

"Oh? What now?"

"One of the Sparra's tollings, unless I'm mistaken. But it's not the pattern to summon them. Something different is going on."

Maura lowered her voice. "Well, don't you know? I thought you knew everything that was going on at Redwall at any given moment."

"Which means it must concern something going on outside Redwall. But I'm sure Brother Sethburr will enlighten us."

No sooner had she spoken these words than the clopping of sandals reached them from the stairwell ahead, and moments later Sethburr came into view, topping the stairs and hastening toward them upon spying the Abbess.

Maura regarded Vanessa with renewed respect at her powers of otherworldly observation.

"We really should make hares our permanent message runners within the Abbey," Vanessa murmured as the carpenter mouse approached, puffing heavily. "It would make so much more sense. Yes, Sethburr, what is it?"

The Sparra are back from the Plains, Abbess! And they seem quite agitated. It appears they bear news of events there."

"No doubt they do ... although I already know the news cannot be all good, if any of it is." Sighing, she said to Maura at her side, "It looks like we can never have just one thing going here, can we?"