CHAPTER NINETY-SIX

Two days after laying Fawkwell and Sergeant Peppertail to their final rest on the Abbey grounds, the Long Patrol assembled by their graves for a second time, for a far less somber and solemn purpose than before. Only Pumphrey, the most grievously wounded of all the surviving hares, was absent, confined to his Infirmary bed on order of the Abbess while he convalesced from the punishments inflicted on him by Urthblood's battle gulls.

Colonel Clewiston took up his position of command at the front of the orderly ranks, his truncated ears still bandaged to protect Vanessa's stitchwork. To his right stood Field Marshal Traveller at ramrod attention, while on his left stood Sodexo, invited to partake in this ceremony as honorary stand-in for the Badger Lord they no longer had, but hoped to have again someday. The Abbey's more permanent badger resident, Mother Maura, had volunteered her services most gladly to mind the leverets and harebabes for this occasion, so that Chevelle and Faylona and the rest wouldn't disrupt these proceedings.

"Well, if there was ever a sorrier-looking muster of the Patrols, I haven't been on paw to review it," Clewiston began with tongue in cheek as he surveyed the array of slings, casts and bandages sported by Leftwick, Pledger and Buckalew. "And yes, I do count myself as part of that, with these ear decorations an' body patches of my own. But decorations're wot they jolly well are - badges of courage and valor bespeaking the sacrifices made in service to this Abbey and the cause of justice. An' after these dressin's an' casts come off and we're left with just our scars, we can keep on wearin' them proudly, as tribute an' reminders of how the Long Patrols always seek to do the right thing, no matter wot it might cost us."

His wistful gaze went to the two fresh graves, which had been dug next to the now-grassy burial mound of old Broyall, the first hare to pass away at Redwall several seasons earlier. "An' in this instance, it cost us a bloody lot. We took care of the eulogies an' memorials an' weepy stuff two days ago, but the loss of Fawks and the Sergeant has left a hole in our ranks, one it's time to address now. Fact is, even before this whole bruhaha out on the Plains, a little much-needed reorganization's been long overdue. Might as well get to it now. No time like th' present, wot? Lieutenant Gallatin, front an' center, if you please!"

Somewhat surprised at hearing his name called - for he'd played no direct role in the fighting to try to recover Latura - Gallatin stepped forward from his spot in the front line to stand directly before his commander. Clewiston gave a slight nod Sodexo's way, and the badger offered to Gallatin a dress tunic, one of several draped over his large arm. The junior officer took it uncertainly, fairly certain he recognized the garment as one of his own and mystified as to why Clewiston would be presenting it to him in so ceremonial a manner. "Um, my own jacket, sah? Uh ... thanks?"

"Your jacket, Galls - but we had Sister Orellana make a slight alteration ... as you'll see for your jolly self if you study the shoulders."

Gallatin did as bidden, then performed a wide-eyed double-take as he fully noticed the different insignia newly-sewn there. "Wha - you don't ... d'you mean t' say ... "

"That's right," Clewiston affirmed with a nod, "you are hereby promoted to the rank of captain, effective immediately. Should anything happen to me or the Field Marshal, you will automatically bump up to major. An' if something happens to both of us, you'll rise to colonel, an' take command of the Patrols. Vital that we have a clear-cut chain of succession, don'tcha know. 'Specially in times like these."

"Why, thank you, sah!" Galllatin overcame his flustered abashedness to snap off a grateful salute to the Colonel; it wasn't the smartest of gestures, but nobeast was about to call him on it under these circumstances.

"Way to go, Gally!" Florissant shouted out heartily from her place in the ranks. "Knew you had it in you! Three cheers for our spankin' new, freshly-minted Captain! Hip hip hooray!"

All the hares joined in lustily, for no member of the Patrols among them deserved such a fine advancement of his fortunes as much as the beloved and respected Gallatin.

"Right, right, pipe down, pipe down! Let's show a little proper regimental decorum, wot?" Clewiston's theatrical tone and ghost of a suppressed smile undercut his bombastic enjoinder for order, and he clearly didn't care who saw it. "We still have a few more promotions to get to. Sergeant Traughber, step forward please."

The sergeant showed just as much surprise at being singled out as Gallatin had, and quickly found out he was to be a sergeant no more as Sodexo presented him with a modified dress tunic of his own, also with new epaulets. "If Gallatin's been boosted to captain, only makes sense we'll need a new lieutenant to take his place, won't we? That logically falls to you, Traubs, as our one remainin' sergeant. Congratulations, an' wear the uniform well."

"I will, sir! Thank you, sir!" Traughber saluted, took the new officer's tunic from the badger, and returned to his place in formation to another round of ebullient cheers and encouraging shouts.

"And now it seems we're plum outta sergeants, wouldn'tcha know?" Clewiston went on with the hint of a wink. "Better rectify that at once, hadn't we? Corporal Twisher, to the front please!"

The scene repeated three more times, with Twisher elevated to sergeant to take Traughber's place, and then Baxley joining the still-bandaged Pledger for promotion to corporals to doubly fill Twisher's vacated spot in the ranks. If anything, the loudly-voiced accolades and encouragements and congratulations from the main body of hares rose in volume and enthusiasm as the ceremony went on, attracting the attention of other Abbey residents, and soon a fairly large circle of curious spectators had formed around the assembled Long Patrols. Even the rats in their encampment were intrigued by this rowdy yet regimented event, and at one point Harth himself sauntered over for a closer look and listen, although he took care not to approach too closely and risk appearing an intruder where he would not be welcome.

Sodexo was down to just a single tunic left draped over his arm, with Gallatin, Traughber, Twisher, Pledger and Baxley all having received theirs along with their promotions. "And last but not least," Clewiston announced, "a special citation for a special hare, one who made it through the battle at Salamandastron with life and limb, although he left another vital part of 'imself behind on that mountainside. He's not allowed his handicap to hinder him in his duties in any way; on the contrary, he's even grown in th' role of a seasoned Patroller, an' shown th' rest of us along the way a thing or two about grit an' gumption. An' the system we worked out largely for his benefit has become a valuable tool for us all, an' we'd not have it if not for him. Gives me th' greatest bloomin' pleasure of all to award a special promotion to a new Long Patrol designation: Silent Scout! Runner Saticoy, present yourself please!"

Saticoy, standing down at the end of the front row, showed the most surprise of all at hearing his name called during these proceedings, even if his Colonel's elaborate introduction had tipped everybeast off as to the identity of the day's final surprise honoree. Coming forward to accept his recognition with stuttering steps so unlike his usual smooth and confident gait, the mute hare who'd whistled and clapped for his comrades fit to qualify himself as a one-beast cheering section was now struck as silent in exuberance as he was in voice. He stopped before Clewiston with wide eyes and thorough surprise in his manner, holding himself at nervous attention as the last of the dress tunics draped over Sodexo's arm was presented to him; this one bore shoulder patches featuring the dark silhouette of a hare in profile, paw raised secretively to its lips, along with the letters "SHHHH" stitched below the image. Lower lip quivering, Saticoy accepted the jacket and nodded his wordless appreciation to Clewiston and Traveller before hastily withdrawing to resume his place in line, accompanied by the most supportive hoots and yells heard on the lawns so far that day.

"An' there we have it," the Colonel concluded. "I trust these new arrangements will hold us for another few seasons, unless further field action demands more adjustments. Profusest thanks to Lord Sodexo for consentin' to stand up for this, an' lending the right badgery air to this little ceremony here."

"It was only my pleasure to do so, and my honor to be asked," the Badger Lord responded. "We stood together out in the Plains against aggressors toward Redwall, so it is only proper we stand together here as well. Thank you for inviting me to participate, Colonel Clewiston ... Field Marshal Traveller."

The squeak of trolley wheels behind them made many of the hares turn to see Friar Hugh's kitchen staff wheeling a trio of heavily-laden dessert carts across the lawns toward them. The crowd of onlookers parted to let the culinary caravan through, and the procession pushed their carts right up to the Long Patrol assemblage, who regarded this latest surprise with eager eyes and watering mouths.

"Fresh-baked sweet carrot tarts for one an' all, made to order!" Sister Apricot heralded. "No greedy scoffing now, or there'll not be enough to go around!"

At a word and a nod from their Colonel, the Long Patrol broke ranks and descended upon the trolleys, each helping themselves to one (or, in some cases, two) of the warm, savory delicacies. But, in a rare departure for them, the hares concerned themselves less with their food and more with each other during these particular festivities, breaking into smaller groups around the respective honorees for small talk and additional personal congratulations and back-slapping. Even some of the spectators joined in, offering their own encouragements and sneaking the occasional tart for themselves when they could get away with it.

Vanessa and Winokur, drawn out to the ceremony halfway through it, stood regarding the happy aftermath. "Would've been nice for them to have informed you of this ahead of time," the otter Recorder remarked. "They clearly got Friar Hugh and our seamstresses in on this to help with the preparations."

"What makes you think I didn't know about this ahead of time?"

"Um ... er ... "

"Anyway, I don't mind that they didn't see fit to inform me. I've had quite enough else to occupy my attention lately, you know. And by saddling Maura with the leverets, the Colonel actually did me a favor, if unwittingly. It will be nice to have a bit of a breather from her overbearing presence. She's hardly making things less conspicuous for me, hovering over me all the time like a personal, self-appointed bodyguard. That as much as anything has tipped off Geoff and the others that something's going on. And speaking just for myself, I'll relish this break from her constantly looking over my shoulder."

Lowering his voice and glancing about as inconspicuously as he could to make sure nobeast else was listening in, Winokur asked, "Have you ... seen anything further of Lattie? Or felt, or sensed, or whatever it is you do? It's been days ... she must be nearly to Salamandastron, or even there already."

"She and Urthblood are close to each other, very close ... but in such proximity, their own powers crash together in confusion, clouding mine. I cannot see what is happening out there now, and I may not until ... well, until it is over."

Wink nodded, knowing not to pursue the subject further - at least not out here on the lawns, with so many others around who might overhear.

"Now then, let's see what kind of job our good Friar did on these snacks, before they're all gone!"

Stepping forward, they found Tibball and Browder volunteering their services to help distribute the tarts from the trolleys.

"Fine rankfest, wasn't it?" the thespian hare remarked to everybeast and nobeast as he doled out the treats to any and all takers. "Not Long Patrol m'self, you know, but married inta them, so it's a proud moment even for a regimental spouse relegated to the spectatorly sidelines like me! Tho' pers'nally, I'd've given m' dear Mizzy a bump or two in rank if t'were up to me, she's top hole Long Patrol material don'tcha know, but I didn't get a bally vote, so ah well. At least her sister's hubby got a boost up to corporal, so not a total familial loss. Then again, bein' th' Colonel's stepson-in-law, I've no call t' criticize any part o' these proceedings, wot?"

"I'm proud enough just to be involved as a witness," said Tibball. "After everything they went through out on the Plains, I worried we'd not be seeing these gallant hares smiling, laughing or cheering again anytime this season. This ceremony was just what they needed to bring themselves back to themselves. There's still work to be done in defending this Abbey, and we need the Long Patrol in top form to meet those challenges!"

Vanessa accepted her tart from the rabbit. "'We,' Tibball? Are you planning on becoming a permanent Redwaller yourself, then?"

"Well, Abbess ... I haven't actually decided ... but I am having such a fine time here, ma'am ... in spite of all the strife and tragedies, I mean ... and, well, the possibility has certainly occurred to me, and why wouldn't it have? A bachelor rabbit of no certain age and no certain means - not to mention no certain family - could do far worse than settling here and making Redwall his home, couldn't he?"

A short way across the lawn, Clewiston found himself veritably besieged by fellow hares commending him on his conduct of the ceremony and his choices for promotion. Corporal Twisher - now Sergeant Twisher - after thanking the Colonel yet again for this day's honor, ventured, "But doesn't this leave us short a sergeant, sir? Before we had Pepper an' Trobbs both, but now it's just - well, me. I might've expected somehare else to be brought up along with me, to keep th' blinkin' balance."

"Only reason we had two sergeants all that time," Clewiston explained airily, "is th' same bally reason we went so long without a captain or major - namely, we stuck with whoever survived Salamandastron, an held them at their prior ranks, p'raps through some sense o' sentimentality more than anything. But time goes on, things change ... an' this sorry episode out on th' Plains made me realize Traveller an' I won't be around forever. If battle doesn't claim us, seasons will, eventually, an' I decided I needed to formalize the chain of command in case this impasse with Urthblood an' these rats blows up inta somethin' far worse than it already has. We got along fine for seven seasons with no senior officers 'tween Gallatin an' me, so I think we'll manage with just one sergeant, wot?"

"If you ask me, sir," offered newly-minted Lieutenant Traughber, looking to the Colonel's wife standing faithfully at Clewiston's side, "I think your own Mel would've been well deserving of a kick up to at least corporal herself, an' maybe even sergeant along with Twish here. No more seasoned or respected a Patrol Group Leader in all the force, and she gave us two good 'uns in Mizzy an' Givvy. I'd venture all the chaps 'n' gels would've gone along with that just fine."

"'preciate the vote of confidence in Mel, Traubs, an' I agree wholeheartedly with your assessment of her ability an' experience. But when you're head honcho of th' Patrols, gotta be mindful of appearances. How'd it look if I went promoting my own wife up a grade or two? Took enough of a chance just uppin' my stepson-in-law Baxley to corporal. Can't have aspersions of favoritism cloudin' this joyful day, can we?"

"And besides," Melanie added, "I'm perfectly happy with my role of both mum and grandmum, plus bein' Clewy's better half, plus holding my own longtime Patrol Leader's rank on top of it all. Let others enjoy their promotions, 'cos they can have 'em!"

"I'm still impressed that you were able to pull this whole thing off in secret, without any of us catchin' on," said Twisher. "None of us were expectin' anything like this when you called this muster."

"Not as hard as all that, if you think about it, Corp- er, Sergeant. We Long Patrols do tend to keep to ourselves more or less, so gettin' our cooks and seamstresses an' Lord Sodexo in on this without most of you lot bein' any the wiser wasn't a challenge. I had Grace 'n' Orellana workin' their paws to th' bally bone these past two days on Satty's insignia, which hadta be designed from scratch."

"Well, that part was def'nitely worth it," Traughber said, glancing over to where Saticoy stood accepting praise from a knot of his fellow Patrollers. "I'd say he's at a bloomin' loss for words, if that weren't in such blinkin' bad taste, wot?"

"Righto - ol' Satty's positively beamin', which is always good t' see. An' as for keepin' it all a secret, I'd say even our all-seein' Abbess herself was taken by surprise over this." Twisher gazed across to Vanessa, who still stood with Winokur near the dessert carts. "Is it really true she knew the exact moment Pepper fell? That's th' word that's goin' 'round ... "

"She did, 'cordin' to Geoff, an' he was right there t' hear it, unlike any of us," Clewiston replied. "Maura was there too, but she's not sayin' much these days when it comes to our returned Abbess, is she?"

"Not her nor Wink either," said Traughber. "Ever since that meeting 'tween the three of 'em up in her study, evening after Lattie was snatched. There's somethin' afoot with the three of 'em they're not lettin' anybeast else in on, an' I daresay it's not about bakin' scones or the decorations for our next feast. Thought maybe they'd take you into their confidence too once you got back, sah, but I guess they haven't ... "

"No, they haven't," Clewiston affirmed sourly. "An' I've still not heard any bally explanation for her refusal to sanction a rescue party that doesn't stick in my craw ... "

"T'ain't right, keepin' you of all beasts in the dark, sah," Traughber seconded, "'specially after all we've given to this Abbey since settlin' here, an' wot you went through out in th' Plains. Hatchin' schemes an' keepin' secrets from their own defenders, bally black mark on their records if you ask me!"

"Then again," Twisher put in, "Maura 'n' Wink're about as level-headed 'n' trustworthy as any two Abbeybeasts can be, an' aspersions won't stick to them unless there's somethin' there to stick. Can't speak as to Nessa herself - she's gone from bein' one kind of head case to another, an' I can't get that mouse figgered out - but if Wink an' Maura are going along with her in whatever this is, then maybe it warrants goin' along with."

"Unless she's bewitched and bespelled 'em," Traughber countered. "You know she's able to do more'n just see what normal beasts can't - we've all witnessed it ourselves. Mesmerizin' honest creatures inta seein' things that aren't there, or not seein' things that are. Who knows how she might've enchanted Wink 'n' Maura when she had 'em up there alone with 'er?"

Clewiston nodded slowly. "Can't speak t' that, chum, but it does bear watchin', doesn't it? For now, we'll trust in our stalwart Badgermum an' dependable otter Recorder to stay true to Redwall, however they regard that to be, an' we'll keep an eye on Nessa to see where things go with her. Hardly behooves sworn defenders of this Abbey to place themselves at odds with the head mouse 'round here, but if she shows she's not fit for the post, we'll be on th' bally front lines in determinin' whether that head mouse remains Vanessa or goes back t' bein' Geoff again, whether we want to be in that position or not."

The others sombered at this; for all their quietly-voiced suspicions about Vanessa, none of them were yet ready to take those views beyond the stage of speculation amongst their fellow hares - or to seriously consider where they would stand in a contest for succession for the rule of Redwall, or what part they might be forced to play in such events.

Into that momentary lull in the conversation stepped about the last creature any of them would have expected. Harth, wending his way between hares who were only too obliging in stepping aside to let him pass, threaded his way right up to Clewiston. The Colonel regarded the rat with the first look of distaste he'd allowed to cross his face all day. "Yes, chappie, can I help you?"

"Nice liddle show y' put on here, Colonel. Reckoned I'd come over an' offer my own congratulations to all yer hares who deserve it."

"Thanks but no thanks," Traughber said before Clewiston could respond. "We'll take congrats from who we choose, an' you'd not make that list, chump." He'd almost said "chum" but added the "p" at the last moment as a kind of lingering, delayed insult.

Harth ignored the new lieutenant's bad graces. "Also occurs to me I've not had opportunity since yer return t' formally thank you fer goin' after Lattie like y' did. I know it cost you dear, an' didn't turn out how either o' us woulda liked, but the effort was appreciated - yer effort, an' the Guosim's, an' that big badger's who ain't even a Redwaller who went with you. Least you lot tried, even after the Abbess ordered ev'rybeast to sit on their paws an' just let those squirrels have Lattie. Shows me who I can count on 'round here, an' we'll not forget it. Fer what it's worth."

"If it's all th' same, we'd rather you did forget it, since we'll be tryin' our blinkin' best to do so ourselves," Traughber went on. "If we get any choice in who we're beholden to an' who's beholden to us, we'd rather it not be vermin like you, wot!"

"That's enuff, 'tenant," Clewiston said, surprising the hares around him, and then addressed Harth. "Just so you know, we went after Lattie because of Redwall, not because of you. This Abbey was violated in a host of different ways when she was taken like that, an' that needed answerin'. Wot's more, we believe Urthblood's the enemy of not only Redwall but all decent creatures, an' if Lattie was somebeast who could stand against him an' cause him trouble, she hadta be kept out of his clutches if we could at all manage it; that's why we went after her. Unfortunately, we didn't succeed, an' now we can only wait an' see wot that means for th' lands." Clewiston paused, seemingly gathering himself for some supreme effort. "That said ... you're welcome."

These two words satisfied the former general as no other gesture could have. Graciously nodding in acknowledgment of Clewiston's equanimity, Harth withdrew, laving the hares to themselves again. Traughber looked to his Colonel in disappointment. "Well, there's no call for bein' polite to their sort, sah ... "

"Beg t' differ, Traubs ol' chum. Long as this Purge business is goin' on, an' as long as our Abbots 'n' Abbess see fit not to expel 'em for violatin' any of our rules, those rats are here to stay ... which means gettin' along with 'em whether we want to or not. An' if their head rat's going to extend a civil paw of courtesy an' appreciation, behooves us not to smack it away. Don't hafta be best pals with the frighters, but if they're bound to behave themselves like decent creatures, falls on us t' be on our own best behavior too - raise th' bally bar, stand above 'n' beyond reproach, provide a shinin' example of wot bein' an Abbeybeast is all about. If they're gonna play the goodbeast game, we'll show them who the true champs of that are, won't we?"

Twisher twitched his whiskers. "Dunno, sah. You plannin' to make a general address to the entire Patrols about this? If not, I'd wager lots more of us are likely to treat 'em the way Trobbs just did than you did."

"Yah, well, maybe I'll just have to - wot's that?" Cutting himself off in mid-sentence, Clewiston turned to look up toward the east walltop, where the Abbey sentries had just sent up a shouted alarm.

"Foxes! We've got foxes approachin'!"

Now it was Clewiston's turn to wiggle his whiskers in consternation. "Be nice if those flippin' swordswingers would've given us some notice to expect 'em. Wonder wot they want now? Not like it's a feastday comin' up, or anything like that."

"Maybe it's not Urthblood's gang?" Twisher speculated. "Maybe it's those foxes from that horde where all those rats came from, out beyond the quarry. Or could it be some other band of troublemakers?"

Clewiston shot the sergeant a jaundiced glance. "With all those Gawtrybe terrors sweepin' the nearer woods on a daily basis? You think they'd let any but their own through this area?"

"Hmm. Point there, sah."

Over at the dessert trolleys, Tibball, hearing the shouts of foxes going up from the ramparts, instantly reached the same conclusion as the Long Patrol colonel, and set about glancing left and right in anxious search of an avenue of escape. "Um, foxes? Foxes, did they say? I'll, uh, just be headin' inside then ... "

"No need for boltin', little chappie," Browder reassured the rabbit. "If it's the Foxguard crowd, they're quite a decent an' well-behaved lot for their kind, an' if it's not, they're jolly well not gettin' one crooked claw inside our gates. So take a deep puff an' calm yourself, wot?"

"I've spent my time at Foxguard," Tibball reminded the player hare, "and I'd just as soon not rub shoulders with them again this season if I can help it. Say hello to them for me ... or, better yet, don't. Might be best if my name never comes up at all." And with that, Tibball scampered off toward the main Abbey, dessert carts and carrot tarts chased from his thoughts.

Harth, meanwhile, had an entirely different concern. Seeking out Vanessa, he approached her with a warrior's stern demeanor. "What's with these foxes, Abbess? Have they come t' join their Gawtrybe allies in an attack on this Abbey? Why didn't yer birds spot 'em 'fore this?"

"Our Sparra are still getting over their own trials out on the Plains. They might not have suffered any fatalities like the Guosim or the Long Patrol, but they still took some punishment from Urthblood's gulls. We've got them back flying daily status flights between here and the quarry, but they're not going out of their way to cover Foxguard; we've all had too much else on our minds, as I'm sure you can appreciate. And as for your worries, I can assure you that adding Tolar's blades to their arsenal won't benefit the Gawtrybe one whit in breaching our walls. If these foxes have not come in peace, they'll not be getting past our gates."

"You ain't seriously considering lettin' 'em inside, are you? After all that's happened?"

"I'll not bar them out of paw, not after they've visited and stayed with us in peace any number of times in recent seasons. Then again, I am not above taking some common sense precautions as well. Let us hear what brings them to us now, and then we'll decide whether they are to be admitted or not."

00000000000

The Abbey squirrels atop the battlements waved acknowledgment - if not necessarily welcome - at Tolar's procession as the Foxguarders drew up to the east gate. But the other creatures standing up alongside Elmwood's Forest Patrol on the ramparts favored the visiting vulpines with no such gesture.

Roxroy, marching at his Sword's side along with Mona, squinted up at the walltop, incredulous. "Are those ... rats up there, standing watch along with the Mossflower Patrol?! I knew Winokur might take a lenient approach toward them, but could he and the other Abbey leaders really have appointed them as defenders?"

Tolar glanced aside at the junior swordfox. "While the answer to that seems self-evident, I would say that you know the mind of Brother Winokur - and, by extension, those of his fellow Abbey leaders and defenders - better than any fox of us. So, if you cannot lend any insight to this question, I daresay we'll just have to wait until we're inside and can inquire about this directly."

"If we're allowed inside," Haddican muttered from over Tolar's shoulder.

Mona gazed up at the mixed rodents holding the ramparts. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say Mykola was here."

"Maybe his spirit," said Tolar, "but the Gawtrybe would never have let him reach the Abbey. I suspect he turned his pawsteps in a different direction, and is far from here now, likely never to return."

"Hope he's all right," Roxroy said softly.

"We may never know. But to return to more immediate matters ... " Tolar strode forward and raised his paw to knock at the gate. The lack of any hail of greeting, or even one of reprimand or warning, stirred a disquiet within him; if the walltop guards had not called down to the inner grounds below, it might well be because they had no intention of alerting anybeast within to open the gate - which would leave Tolar's party and their considerable burdens locked out in the forest, with no choice but to turn south and make for their secondary destination, should they be rebuffed here.

Before Tolar's knuckles could land on wood, however, his sharp ears detected the scrape of the lockbolt on the other side, and the door slowly opened to reveal the last creature any fox there expected to see.

Abbess Vanessa stood at the threshold, paws serenely folded in her sleeves - a pose of steadfast authority she pulled off far more convincingly than Geoff had ever been able to manage with the same gesture - as she regarded the fox chieftain. "Hello, Sword. How may we assist you today?"

Tolar gaped, struggling to find his voice. "A-Abbess? Is it truly ... we did not expect to ... we were not informed ... but, how ... ?"

"I am returned to myself. A recent development, amongst many others, so you are to be forgiven for not being aware of this."

If Tolar and the other male foxes were flabbergasted by Vanessa's state and presence, Mona's reaction surpassed even theirs. The vixen stood wide-eyed and transfixed, as if beholding something utterly impossible. After three seasons of examinations and monitoring, three seasons with no sign or indication or promise that Vanessa would ever recover from the slingstone wound, three seasons of profound mystification over her bizarre condition and inability to offer any meaningful prognosis at all or predict which direction her health might go, here she suddenly was, without any warning or fanfare, seemingly cured of her mental malady, fully in command of herself and back in charge of Redwall as Abbess. Such a development could hardly be credited, and yet here it was standing right before Mona, evidenced by her own eyes.

"What brings you to Redwall, Sword Tolar? You did not send word for us to expect you, and if you were anticipating a feast or festival, I'm afraid we're not in a very festive mood these days."

"My apologies for our unbidden arrival, Abbess, if it inconveniences you in any way. We well appreciate that these are not normal times, and that relations between you and the Gawtrybe have been quite strained of late. But rest assured we seek no banquet or special accommodation on your part. Our visit is one of official business, and we ask only that you indulge our presence for a day or two. Then we can be on our way again, if you prefer we not tarry here longer."

"Official business, hm? The last time any of Urthblood's servants were here on 'official business,' it ended up causing us no end of trouble. Not here to snatch any more of our rat guests, are you? Because we've had our share of abductions for one season, thank you very much."

Tolar and his companions showed alarm and befuddlement over this statement. "Abductions? I know not of what you speak, Abbess. What has gone on here?"

Vanessa smirked knowingly. "Looks like Urthblood isn't sharing with all his commanders equally, is he? Don't worry, we'll fill you in on everything - and make sure you get the true version of events. Now, please do come in, and as long as you mean to cause us no trouble, you will be most welcome ... once you leave all your blades with our sentries."

"Our ... blades? Abbess, we have not had to surrender our blades for any of our visits these past three seasons."

"I have not been Abbess for the past three seasons. Things change, Sword - and, given the current state of affairs, this is a condition I would insist upon. Now, I would hate to see you have to turn around and go back after coming all this way, so ... "

Only too well aware that all his foxes looked to him to take their cue, Tolar sighed, unbuckled his scabbard and presented it to Vanessa, who relieved him of it with surprising assurance, as if handling arms was a matter of course for her. Nodding her assent, she backed through the narrow portal to make room for the vulpines to pass. "Thank you for your understanding, Sword. We'll collect the rest of your company's weapons - including those daggers I know Mona is so fond of - once you're all inside. After me, if you please."

Once the Foxguard contingent had filed through into the Abbey grounds, further surprises awaited both sides. One large and unexpected beast oversaw the Long Patrol as the hares disarmed the foxes - and the backpack-bearing weasels, whom the Redwallers had not previously noticed mingled amongst the rearguard ranks of the swordsbeasts until all were through. Tolar regarded the hulking creature looming over the scene and eyeing both foxes and weasels with suspicious scrutiny. "I don't believe we've had the pleasure, sir ... ?"

"Lord Sodexo of the Southern Glades ... and a staunch ally of Redwall's, lest you have any mischief in mind."

Vanessa flashed Tolar an almost impish grin that would have suited her former afflicted self perfectly. "We have a Badger Lord of our own now. Imagine that! Wonder how he'd fare against Lord Urthblood?"

Tolar shuddered. "Let us hope we never have occasion to find out, Abbess. I was there to see two Badger Lords clash once before, and I never care to see such a thing again in my life. And I dread to think circumstance may have deteriorated to the point where that possibility can even be contemplated, if only in jest."

"It seemed far more than mere contemplation when I was battling your master's shrews and gulls out on the Western Plains," Sodexo rumbled at Tolar. "And there was nothing jestful about that contest, as the fresh Long Patrol graves you'll find within these walls, or the Guosim ones out in the Plains, will attest."

Tolar felt a chill go through him. Of all the things he might have imagined awaited him upon his arrival here, he could not have envisioned any of this. Talk of action against Redwall by Lord Urthblood's forces ... abductions of protected beasts from within the Abbey ... warfare out on the Plains, leading to fatalities amongst the Abbey's defenders and allies ... and, worst of all, the specter of another Badger Lord being drawn into the fray, a mighty creature who could stand toe to toe with Urthblood, and didn't seem about to shy away from such a prospect. Bad memories of Salamandastron came flooding back to him, of the terrible carnage and the heavy losses suffered by both sides when two badgers fought for control of the mountain ... and for so much more. And this Sodexo, while he spoke of taking direct part in the conflict just passed, bore no signs of injury or distress from a clash which had put others in their graves, suggesting he was nobeast to be trifled with. It was no wonder Tolar and his entourage were being made to surrender their blades - and perhaps surprising they were even being admitted at all.

"Abbess, you must tell us all that has happened. From what little I have heard here so far, it sounds dire beyond all expectations."

"Did you not see any of it yourself? Much of this must have been visible from the top of Foxguard, especially through a long glass."

Tolar gave a grimacing pause, as if reluctant to reveal something. At last he replied, "The Gawtrybe have been taking all the high watches of late. At Captain Custis's insistence."

"And they told you nothing of any comings and goings out on the Plains?"

"No. They did not."

"Then I'd say you're in need of having a word or three with them when you get back to Foxguard. In the meantime, we'll be more than happy to tell you all about it - in the case of our hare and shrew friends, at greater length and in more detail, I am sure, than you might care to hear. But for now, let us finish up with the welcomes, because I see additional visitors among you in need of greeting." Vanessa turned to the marten whose presence almost went unnoticed amongst the foxes and weasels. "Good Master Trelayne, isn't it?"

"Yes ... why, yes ... you ... you remember me, Abbess?"

"Indeed, I do, although I admit I was hardly the mouse I am now when last we were acquainted. And I believe I do owe you the profusest of apologies for that most unseemly incident at your kiln. I hope you will forgive me for that - I truly wasn't myself when I smashed your marvelous figurine of Geoff." After the barest of pauses, she added, "Although you did lead us all to believe you were going to sculpt Martin instead. Hardly an excuse, I know, but still."

"Well, yes, but ... apology accepted?" The glassmaker didn't seem to know what to say. "Now that I'm here again, I had hoped to rectify that situation, and create a replacement for him. Of course, I was still expecting him to be Abbot ... "

"Yes, just what is the staus of that?" Tolar followed up, genuinely intrigued. "I mean, has Geoff been ... well, demoted?"

"We can hardly have both an Abbot and an Abbess occupying the chair of authority at the same time, now can we? That would lead to no end of confusion, as you can well imagine - like having two Swords at Foxguard."

"I'll take that as a 'yes' then," Tolar muttered, at nearly as much of a loss as the marten.

"And just why are our illustrious craftsbeasts here at this time?" Vanessa continued, her gaze also taking in Kyslith, whose simple woodlander tunic made him stand out from all the black-uniformed swordfoxes and marked him as a non-military creature. "I would have expected you to remain at Foxguard to keep working on your labors there. Unless they are completed already?"

Trelayne instantly brightened. "Why, yes! Yes they are! And if I may say so myself, I will hazard that this second memorial sculpture of Machus turned out even better than my first effort at Salamandastron, as fine as that was. I do so hope at least some of you can make the trip to Foxguard soon, to see it for yourselves now that it's fully installed in all its magnificence! It's every bit what Lord Urthblood's founding Sword deserves!"

"If that were the only thing bringing you here, you could just as easily have sent a single messenger fox inviting us to visit you." Vanessa ran her gaze over the assemblage. "Not Foxguard's Sword, and his healer vixen, and most of the senior members of the brigade, and even some of your weasels too, all of whom appear to bear weighty burdens on their backs. So, just what does bring you to Redwall, Sword?"

"A matter of import, if not urgency, Abbess," Tolar answered. "Although, the dire hints you've dropped so far of events unbeknownst to us leads me to suspect that what you have to tell us may carry far more gravity than anything we came here to share with you."

"Your business can hardly rate as trivial, methinks, if you saw fit to momentarily abandon your fortress, leaving it, I presume, under the rule of Captain Custis."

This elicited a slight and sour frown from the fox chieftain. "I left Sappakit in charge of Foxguard during my absence, in accordance with our official chain of command. No creature other than a fox will ever 'rule' Foxguard, not even temporarily. Captain Custis is merely our guest, until Gawdrey is ready to accommodate the full force of the Gawtrybe here in Mossflower."

"Ah, yes. That. And how is Gawdrey coming along, if I may ask?"

"It proceeds apace - and other than that, I know no more on the matter than you, since its location remains an official secret, and the Captain has not deigned to extensively share details of its progress with me. I suppose a day may well come when I wake in the morning to find that all of the Gawtrybe at Foxguard have moved on, leaving my home to the sole province of its namesake swordsbeasts once more. Until then, Custis and his squirrels are temporary residents of Foxguard and allies of necessity, and we will coordinate our affairs in close cooperation, just as we have been doing."

"Hmm. For a moment there I thought you were going to use the word 'occupiers' instead of 'residents,' but it's really none of our affair, is it? So, let's see about treating you all to some refreshments in Great Hall, and then if you like we can convene a council for you to discuss your tidings with us."

"I actually don't think that will be necessary, Abbess. What I have to say can be shared informally, over food and drink, and is for the ears of everybeast who cares to listen."

"Does it by any chance concern the rats we have staying with us?"

"Actually, no. Not at all, really."

"Oh, good. Because that would have been tiresome. We've had enough of threatened sieges and false negotiations over their presence here, and now that I trust we've made it quite clear they're not going anywhere, that would be rather beating a dead badger, wouldn't it? Pardon the expression, Lord Sodexo. Come along then, and we'll get you all settled in Great Hall, and then we'll see what news we have to share with each other."

"Uh, sir," one of the weasels implored of Tolar, "can we take these packs off now? They're really straining our backs 'n' shoulders ... "

"Of course. Just pile them over there, and I'll assign a couple of my brigade to help you guard them while the rest of us are inside."

"Guard 'em?" Clewiston asked in a suspicious tone as he monitored the weasels and several of the junior swordfoxes as well, all of whom now shrugged off their cumbersome backpacks and dropped them to the ground with heavy thuds. An uncharacteristic clinking and tinkling came from within the sturdy packs upon impact, eliciting raised eyebrows and cocked ears from many of the onlookers. "We're the guards 'round here, Master Brushtail, in case you'd jolly well forgotten."

"You'll forgive me if I leave this to my own beasts, Colonel. The contents are quite valuable, representing a significant investment of time, labor and resources. And we did work quite hard to get them here."

"Some o' us harder'n others," one weasel muttered, not quite softly enough to keep Tolar from hearing it.

Clewiston continued to eye the packs. "Why? Wot's in 'em?"

Tolar flashed the hare a knowing grin as he hoisted up one of the weighty loads by its straps. "No big secret - at least not for long. In fact, keeping it a secret would totally defeat the entire purpose of our endeavors. Join us in Great Hall, and all will be revealed!"