Through winter’s dreary days she slept
beneath the cold dark ground,
when all the earth was silent,
white snows lay deep around.
Bright stars came out above her,
as to the moon I’d call,
take pity on my dearest one,
My Rose of Old Redwall.
How the grass grew green and misty,
soft fell the rain that spring,
her dainty budded head arose,
and made my poor heart sing.
Then summer brought her just one bloom,
so white, so sweet and tall,
with ne’er a thorn to sully her,
My Rose of Old Redwall.”
Both the hardy old adventurers were sobbing like babes. Saro scrubbed roughly at her eyes. “Come on, mate, time to go. We’ll push ye as far as the gate, missy, so ye can wave us good-bye.”
They were met at the gatehouse by Foremole Dwurl and Granmum Gurvel, each carrying a pack of provisions. Old Phredd emerged from the gatehouse with a long, slender bundle, which he presented to Bragoon.
The otter stared at the strange object. “Thankee kindly, Phredd. What is it?”
Abbot Carrul answered. “It is the sword of Martin the Warrior. I want you to take it on your quest for Loamhedge. Should you need a weapon to defend yourselves, you could not have a finer one. I trust you both with the sword, and I know when the journey is done, you will bring it back safe to Redwall. May the spirit of Martin go with you, my friends, and the good wishes of all in this Abbey!”
Bragoon bound the still-wrapped sword across his shoulders. “Ye do us great honour. How could we fail with Martin’s sword to keep us company? Go back to yore Summer Feast now, an’ don’t fret. Me an’ Saro’ll bring back Sister Amyl’s secret—that is, providin’ it makes ye walk, Martha.”
The young haremaid’s eyes shone with resolution. “Walk? I’ll do better than that! One day I’ll dance for both of you. I’ll dance on top of that wall, right over the threshold, for my heroes Bragoon and Sarobando. I swear it upon my solemn oath in front of you both!”
Bragoon laughed. “Haharr, that’s the stuff, me darlin’!”
Saro swung her pack up on one shoulder. “So ye will, beauty, so ye will. Good-bye!”
They had only taken a dozen paces down the path to the south when Toran came running up and threw himself upon Bragoon. “Take care of yoreself, brother, an’ look out for Saro, too!”
Bragoon gasped for breath as he tried to pull free of Toran’s embrace. “We’ve taken care o’ each other since we was Dibbuns. If’n ye don’t let go of me, I’ll get me ribs crushed afore the journey’s started!”
Toran released his brother and stood weeping on the path. Bragoon looked away as Saro kissed the ottercook fondly.
“Go on now, ye great lump, back to yore feast. We’ll be just fine. But keep this in mind, Toran Widegirth, when we come back to Redwall ye’ve got to make us a feast, as good as the one we had today. Promise?”
Toran ran back to the Abbey, shouting, “That ’un today’ll look like afternoon tea to the feast I’ll make ye when ye return, I promise!”
They watched him go inside, then walked to the south wall gable and struck off southeast into Mossflower.
15
Horty stood at the dormitory window, watching as Toran returned and assisted Old Phredd in closing the main gate. Both beasts then headed for the orchard and what remained of the Summer Feast. The young hare turned to his two companions, who were sprawling about on their beds.
“Well, chaps, Toran’s back an’ the gate’s closed, wot! That means those two aging relics have finally gone off on the quest. Is everything ready, you blighters?”
Springald leaned over and pulled three bulging sacks from under her bed. “These are going to take some carrying!”
Horty scoffed. “Pish an’ tush, m’gel, one can’t have enough tuck. It’s vital, mark m’words, bally vital!”
Fenna gathered their walking staffs and three travelling cloaks from the wall closet. “But how do we get out of the Abbey without being spotted? It won’t be dark for hours yet. Huh, you’d think Bragoon and Saro would’ve waited until dawn tomorrow.”
Horty sat down on his bed, ruminating. “Hmm, you’ve got a jolly good point there. I’ll have to think up a cunning plan. Spring, pass me one of those sacks. A chap can’t think on a blinkin’ empty tummy, wot!”
Springald kept a tight grip on the foodsacks. “Forget your confounded stomach, Horty! Get thinking, and be quick about it. We can’t sit around here until it’s dark and we’ve lost their trail.”
Horty rose and strode back to the window, muttering, “Forget one’s tum, wot? Easy for you t’say, Miss Mouse. I’m a flippin’ hare, y’know. Forgetfulness of the old stomach is bally impossible to types like me . . . Ahah, Dibbuns, the very chaps!”
Flinging the window open, Horty called down to Muggum and a crew of Abbeybabes who were cavorting on the lawn below. “What ho there, my pestilential friends!”
Shilly the squirrelbabe looked up and pointed an accusing paw. “Naughty ’orty, you been sended up t’stay inna dormitee.”
Horty stared down his nose at the little squirrel. “Let me inform you, my broom-tailed friend, I am here merely out of choice. I can come down when I flippin’ well please. Now listen closely, you little bounders. Would you like to hear a secret, wot?”
Muggum wrinkled his button nose. “Ee seekurt? Us’n’s gurtly fond o’ seekurts. Ho urr aye!”
Fenna called out in a hoarse whisper. “Horty, what are you up to? Who are you talking to?”
Waggling his ears at her, the young hare looked secretive. “I’ve just thought up a super wheeze, a plan t’get us out unnoticed, wot. Create a diversion, that’s the idea. Leave this to Hortwill Braebuck, marm!”
A hogbabe named Twiglut, having grown impatient, squeaked up at the window. “Are ya goin’ a tell uz dis seekrut? Well ’urry h’up, or we go an’ play wiv sticks!”
Horty waved his paws earnestly to gain the Dibbuns’ attention. “No no, don’t go an’ play with sticks, my tiny pincushion. I’ll tell you the secret. This mornin’ we went down to the pond, an’ guess what? We saw lots of big fishes . . .”
Muggum butted in. “Wurr they’m gurt hooj fishies, zurr?”
Horty stretched his paws wide, indicating their size. “Huge? They were blinkin’ colossal! Anyhow, they gave us rides on their backs all round the jolly old pond. Oh, it was loads o’ fun, I can tell you, absoballylutley top hole an’ all that, wot!”
The Dibbuns began dancing with excitement.
“Will ee fishies still be thurr?”
“Uz wanna ride on der fishies!”
Horty scratched his ears. “Hmm, they said they’d be there late afternoon, just before evenin’. I say, you chaps, it’s round about that time now, isn’t it?”
Roaring delightedly, the Dibbuns thundered off in the direction of the Abbey pond.
Horty called after them. “Have fun, you little savages. Tell the fishies Horty sent you!”
The realisation of what was taking place suddenly hit Springald. Leaping up, she hurled Horty away from the window. Cupping both paws to her mouth she yelled. “No, don’t go! Come back this instant, all of you, come back!”
But the Dibbuns could not hear because of the din they were setting up. Like a small stampede, they ran out of sight around the Abbey corner.
Springald turned on Horty. “You blathering fool, what have you done? Idiot!”
Horty flapped his ears airily. “Creatin’ a small diversion. No need to get your fur in an uproar, old thing, wot?”
Fenna’s tail went stiff as Horty’s foolish act dawned on her. “You puddenbrain! Can’t you see that those babes will be drowned if there isn’t anybeast responsible to watch over them?”
The young hare slapped a paw to his brow. “Oh corks, you’re right! I never gave that a flippin’ thought.” Leaning wide out of the window, he bellowed, “I say, little chaps, come back this very instant. D’ye hear?”