CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED

It seemed that morning as if everything at Redwall was happening at once.

The arrival of Tolar's foxes - and Trelayne too - had not only interrupted the Long Patrol's promotion festivities and injected a new dynamic into Abbey affairs, but would also lead to various unforeseen interplays between parties both obvious and unexpected and, in at least one case, largely unsuspected. While the sacks full of Realms sat out on the grounds under the watchful eyes of fox and weasel - and those foxes and weasels in turn sat under the equally watchful eyes of hares and squirrels and shrews, not to mention Harth's rats - the Abbey mostly slumbered through the night in a wary calmness, relieved that at least Tolar's brigade appeared not to harbor the same single-minded attitude toward Redwall as the Gawtrybe. But as morning broke, and creatures of every species rose to begin their day and take their breakfasts and engage in all manner of conversation, many intriguing collisions played out as perhaps only at Redwall they could ...

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Only one fox took its breakfast indoors in Great Hall, Tolar preferring to receive his morning meal out on the spring lawns with his brigade and their weasel carriers. And now that solitary vulpine drew looks from many seated around him, not least from the marten whose exclamation had caused so many heads to turn their way.

"Not coming with me?! What do you mean?"

Kyslith looked somewhat sheepish at Trelayne's affronted interrogation, abashed as only somebeast revealing an overdue secret could be. "I mean I'm staying at Foxguard, sir. Mona and I have discussed this at great length, and we agree Foxguard will benefit from having me on paw to see to its glassmaking needs. It is a full military garrison, after all, with nearly as much going on these days as there is at Salamandastron. It truly deserves to have a blower of its own on permanent staff. And I could serve the requirements not only of Foxguard, but Gawdrey as well - and even Redwall. You can't very well be expected to come running back to Mossflower from the coast every time anybeast around here needs glass crafted, can you? This way, both regions can have their needs in this area fulfilled expeditiously, without long travel delays. It only makes sense, sir."

"You've discussed this ... with Mona? Not Tolar?"

"Sword Tolar has been quite busy with other things. We felt this could be worked out without overburdening him unnecessarily. I believe Mona many have brought the subject up to him, and he was content to leave the details to her."

"But ... but, you're my apprentice! What am I to do without you?"

"Tolomeo is your apprentice too. He can provide you with all the help you'll need once you get back to Salamandastron, especially nowadays with peace holding sway over the coastlands. I feel it's time for me to move ahead on my own, and to be more than just an apprentice."

"Well. Well. This is most unexpected. Most unexpected indeed. But, does Lord Urthblood even know?"

"My pledge of apprenticeship was with you, Master Trelayne, not with Lord Urthblood. I will of course continue to offer my services to him, if he will have me - but it will have to be at Foxguard, not Salamandastron."

Geoff, seated at the head of the main table in Vanessa's absence and sensing the sudden tension between marten and fox over Kyslith's unanticipated announcement, waded in at this point. "Well, I think it's an excellent idea. I appreciate that it must sting to lose so fine an assistant, my good Trelayne, but I must speak honestly and state that your loss will be Mossflower's gain. If Kyslith on his own proves even half as talented as you, he will still be able to create masterworks ... and if he is only one-tenth as talented as you, he will still know more of the glassblowing arts than any Redwaller, and be able to provide us with wares finer than almost any currently gracing our shelves and cupboards. Although, on the subject of masterworks, I do hope this development hasn't soured you on crafting me that replacement figurine you'd indicated you would make of me ... "

"Well, I was counting on Kyslith's help for that," Trelayne said rather frostily. "But if he no longer wishes to serve as my third and fourth paws ... "

The fox displayed genuine hurt at this recrimination. "Nay, Master! A promise is a promise, and one made to Redwall's Abbot ... er, former Abbot ... uh ... "

Geoff waved a paw. "It's all right. I was serving as Abbot when Trelayne first promised me a replacement, so for the purposes of this conversation, that title's as fine as any other!"

"Well then," Kyslith went on, "a promise made to Redwall's Abbot must be honored above all! I will assist you, Trelayne. Of course I will, and consider it my honor to do so! Just because we will be parting ways when we leave here, that doesn't mean we cannot pool our talents one last time to produce the splendid miniature our host deserves!"

Trelayne forced a conciliatory smile, a trace of wistfulness to it. "I'm sorry, I was just being churlish, and temperamental. One does not expect to rise and greet the new day to be met with such news as this, and it will pain me indeed to lose so fine an apprentice as you. I spoke through selfishness; please forgive me, both of you. I wish you only success in your new pursuits, Kyslith - and you will be among your fellow foxes, so perhaps you have found your true place after all. But yes, let us engage in one last collaboration here to fulfill our obligation to the good folk who have treated us so well, and part as both friends and mutually respected colleagues. Let us undertake this endeavor today, in fact! And let it be our finest work Redwall has seen yet!"

Geoff beamed as the two longtime associates warmly shook paws in agreement and rapprochement. "See? As has so often been said, things always do seem to work out for the best at Redwall!"

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Across the Hall, Colonel Clewiston settled himself onto a bench alongside Grayfoot and his family, eliciting a curious look from the two males and an indifferent gaze of bare acknowledgment from Judelka. While interaction between the Long Patrol and the ferrets was not unheard of, due mainly to Percy's friendship with the leverets, it was unusual for the commander of those fighting hares to seek out Grayfoot in any such social setting.

"Mornin', Captain. How goes?"

"Retired Cap'n, Colonel."

"O posh. Once a captain, always a captain, wot? Accorded honor afforded th' bally rank 'n' service, don'tcha know. So, how's this gonna work?"

"Um ... how's what gonna work?"

"This business with these ugly little coins your brushtailed friends've lugged here from their tower. I saw Tolar take you aside after yesterday's tea, an' he seemed to be jawin' at you a good long while ... an' from wot I could see, you hardly seemed overjoyed by wot he was layin' upon you. Wot's he got you in for ... or aren't you allowed to say?"

"Oh, that. Naught secret 'bout any o' that. Quite th' contrary, since Sword Tolar's lookin' t' get 'em distributed throughout Mossflower as fast an' as wide as 'ee can, Urthblood's orders ... "

"An' how's that gonna happen? Shower ev'rybeast who passes by with a pawful of that ill-conceived coinage?"

"Not too far off, Colonel. I'm t' keep a stockpile of Realms on paw fer th' remainder o' this season, an' inta summer if need be. Ev'ry time somebeast drops in fer food 'n' drink, or fer a room, they'll get Realms along with their orders an' hospitality. If they refuse th' Realms, no food or service."

Clewiston's eyebrows went up. "Just gonna give 'em away, like that? Thought they were supposed to be valuable? Cap'n Redfur keeps carryin' on like they're th' treasure of a thousand seasons ..."

"They'll only be valuable if beasts start seein' 'em that way - which is why, with each coin or clutch given out will come notice that, come middle of summer, we'll not be givin' out any more Realms, an' we'll no longer take barter or trinkets fer our food 'n' drink 'n' rooms. That point on, anybeasts who want t' fill their bellies or slake their thirsts or rest their heads on a pillow will hafta pay fer th' pleasure - an' pay in Realms only. No Realms, no service."

"Wot about travellers from afar who weren't around for the distributin', who've never heard of the blasted things? Will you deny 'em, just 'cos they were out of th' bally loop?"

"Course not. That'd be cruel. They'd hafta work fer their Realms."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, I'd find summat fer them t' do 'round my tavern - or mebbe send 'em Foxguard's way, since there's allers work t' be done there - an' once they've got their pay in Realms clinkin' in their pockets from their labors, they can come back an' buy whatever they want. Course, if I happen t' have spare Realms in my counter box an' they've got sumpthin' worth sellin', I might just buy it from 'em - an' they can pay me outta that."

"Sounds ... complicated, chap. Think I'll stick with simple barter 'n' trade. Always been good 'nuff for us here at Redwall, an' the sea traders out along th' coast - or Lord Sodexo an' his honey too. Can't see him ever askin' Realms for his honey."

"Barter 'n' trade's all well an' good, Colonel - but Urthblood can't control that as easy, can he?" Clewiston couldn't miss the undercurrent of sarcasm in the ferret captain's tone.

"Hrm. An' wot about any rats who come your way, hm? Wot're your orders regardin' 'em?"

"Orders? Ain't got any, leastways not yet. Retired from Urthblood's service, 'member? Altho', I get so many Gawtrybe passin' thru my doors these days - some even stayin' overnight at times - that any rat fool 'nuff t' stick its snout inta my tavern'd find itself trussed up an' shipped off to the coastlands 'fore it knew what hit it ... or else lyin' dead with Gawtrybe shafts decoratin' its carcass. 'Spect that might change once Gawdrey's finished an' those treewhompers don't need my saloon as much, but fer now, t'ain't no place any rat'd wanna be."

"Ho, yes, that'll be a right liftin' off your shoulders, havin' them bowtwangers off your paws. Just where is that squirrel fortress set t' be, anyway?"

If Clewiston had hoped to trick Grayfoot into revealing Gawdrey's secret location by slipping that seemingly-innocent inquiry into their discourse so casually and conversationally, he was bound to be frustrated. "Sorry, Colonel, but they've not told me any more about that than they've told you, I reckern. Not sure they've even told Tolar; could be the only creatures who know that squirrel fortress's location are th' Gawtrybe themselves, plus the birds who scouted out th' spot an' guided 'em to it."

"An' His Bloodiness 'imself," Clewiston added.

"Yeah, him too, I s'pose."

Clewiston silently nibbled for a few moments at the scone he'd brought with him while Grayfoot helped Judelka spoon some custard into Percy's mouth; the ferretchild was easily old enough to feed himself, but always seemed to enjoy a little extra parental attention when he could get it.

"So," the hare said, "take it you're less than charmed 'bout this whole Realms business that's been forced on you ... "

Grayfoot shrugged. "No real skin off my snout, not really. I'm as happy as not t' give 'em out, an' collect 'em when time comes due fer that too, tho' won't be any picnic denyin' service to those who can't pay. It'll be int'restin' seein' how that all works out."

"Hmm. An' wot about this whole campaign 'gainst the rats? Content t' go along with that too?"

"Don't see how that directly affects me very much, Colonel. Very few o' my customers were ever rats, tho' I certainly didn't turn 'em away if they needed food or drink, or a bed fer th' night."

"Oh? Thought you might've felt more strongly 'bout it than that. I've seen you 'n' Truax chattin' up a bally storm at times, on several occasions since you an' your family arrived with Lord Sodexo and the riverfolk. The two of you look pretty chummy to me."

"Well, Tru an' me're both former cap'ns. Go way back, we do, up in th' North. He was allers one o' Urthblood's more popular officers - best of th' rat captains, better'n either of th' ones who came down t' fight at Salam'dastron. Got along with nearabouts ev'rybeast, not like most rats. An' not just us ferrets 'n' weasels 'n' stoats, an' foxes too, but even woodlanders an' goodbeasts too."

"Yeah - we heard how Captain Saybrook helped him an' his kin escape the Purge up there so they could escape to Redwall. Sadly, don't think any more of those skintails'll make it through the blinkin' blockade your Gawtrybe friends've thrown up around this Abbey."

Grayfoot regarded Clewiston with surprise over this statement. "I'da thought you'd be happy 'bout that, Colonel, no more rats gettin' through to Redwall. You an' yer hares've made no secret what a nuisance you consider 'em, an' ye're hardly the only Abbeybeasts I've heard worry 'bout how they're strainin' yer resources. Woulda assumed you'd be happy if'n you could be rid of the lot of 'em."

"Beasts in trouble need help, wot?"

"Aye, reckon so. At least Redwall's in a position t' give it."

Clewiston paused a beat. "Wot'd you do if any rats came to you seekin' help to elude this Purge?"

Grayfoot didn't seem as caught off guard by this question as the Colonel had expected. "That is a quandary, ain't it? Not a soldier anymore m'self, so I couldn't very well take 'em inta custody or arrest 'em ... tho', I s'pose I could lock 'em in an upstairs guest room, or down in th' cellar, 'til th' next Gawtrybe patrol comes along. Might disrupt th' runnin' of my establishment more'n I might like, mind. What I could do, that I'm sure th' Gawtrybe couldn't fault me for, would be t' make careful note of which way they headed once they left my tavern, an' report it to th' proper authorities in due time. That might be my full extent of participation in any o' this - don't want trouble from either side, y' know. Got Judy 'n' Percy t' think about."

"O' course, chappie, o' course. But y' say you're not under any specific orders on any of this t'all, are you?"

"That's what bein' retired from service means, Colonel."

"Ah, yes. Retired family life, with the wife 'n' toddler 'n' all that." Clewiston favored Percy and Judelka with a long look. "Then again, rats've got family 'n' kin too. Little tykes an' loved ones, significant others an' oldsters, siblings, cousins ... do you ever think you would help out any who came your way asking for it?"

Now Grayfoot finally did show the surprise he'd failed to exhibit earlier. "Help 'em how? Send 'em t' Redwall? They'd never get through, not th' way the Gawtrybe's guardin' all yer approaches here. Hide 'em in my tavern? That'd work out real good next time some Gawtrybe dropped by. Send 'em south? That might buy 'em some time, but the Purge'd overtake 'em sooner or later. Wouldn't do 'em any good in th' long run, an' I'd be stickin' my neck out lots farther than I'd be comfortable with."

"There are other directions besides just north an' south."

"What, east? Inta th' heart o' Mossflower, where th' Gawtrybe 're conductin' their most extensive sweeps? West, inta the Plains, where Cap'n Choock's shrews an' Urthblood's gulls're watchin' day an' night? From where I sit, east 'n' west's as bad as north 'n' south."

"Mebbe not quite as bad as all that. The Western Plains are a big place, as I can jolly well attest from traipsin' across 'em any number of times, includin' just recently when I was out chasin' after Lattie. Lotsa nooks 'n' crannies where a beast could hide itself if it didn't wanna be found - an' no forests for the Gawtrybe to work from to their blinkin' advantage."

"Nay, there ain't - which means anybeast crossin' those wide spaces would be open an' exposed, nowhere t' hide. Even if they elude Choock's shrews, they'd be bound t' be spotted by th' gulls."

"Gulls can't see at night, chap."

Grayfoot straightened, realizing for the first time that Clewiston might not be speaking purely hypothetically. "No. No, they can't. But they ain't the only eyes in th' sky Urthblood's got."

"Last I heard, that brute didn't have any bats in his service. An' every bally time we see one of his owls, it always seems to be the same one, leading me to 'spect he hasn't got too many of them in his service either - tho', I reckon you'd know more 'bout the inner workings of his recruitment an' standing forces than I would, chum."

"Aye, 'tis true. Even up north, Urthblood only ever had a few of those nightbirds sworn to him, an' Saugus seems t' be the only one who's ever come south."

"Right ho, just a few owls - which jibes with how Truax was able t' make it here from the thick of the Purge in its first, Northlands phase. He knew t' travel only at night - told us as much when he first arrived - 'cos he knew Urthblood would be mostly blind then. It it worked for that sly old captain, who's to say it wouldn't do the same for some of Mossflower's rats?"

Grayfoot digested this. "Aye ... but Tru had someplace to go - a destination he knew would be worth riskin' such a dangerous journey for. Sayin' Mossflower's rats might be able t' move around without bein' spotted is only th' half of it. Wherever they settled down, they'd still need food an' water. Where would they go?" The ferret studied Clewiston's face more closely. "You've already got some place in mind, don'tcher?"

"Mebbe I do, chap, mebbe I do. You think over what we talked about here, an' where you stand on things, an' wot you really think is the right an' decent stand to take in all this, an' I'll get back to you after you've had some time to mull things over." Clewiston rose from the bench, licking his paw clean of the crumbs from his now-finished scone. "If you feel like talkin' more, just seek me out - I'm always around Redwall somewhere or other, now that I'm not out chasin' after kidnapped ratmaids anymore!"