Book Two
13
It was still an hour before afternoon tea at Redwall Abbey. Sister Sage put the finishing touches to a raspberry and apple pie and, wiping her paws on a flour-dusted apron, the old mouse stood back and watched Simeon, the blind Herbalist. He was lining hot vegetable pasties on the window ledge to cool, his experienced paws selecting the ones that were ready and replacing them with those fresh from the ovens. Sage poured out two beakers of the cold oatmeal and pennycloud water she had brewed early that morning.
“Come and have a break, Simeon. Ive got something here for you.
The blind mouse felt his way over to the table. “Ah, oatmeal and pennycloud. How thoughtful of you, Sage.
They sat listing the fare they had made, sipping slowly. “Raspberry and apple pie, strawberry tarts, nutbread, vegetable pasties, and a mixed fruit cake. That should be enough, Simeon. Oh, my mint teawhere is it? The blind ancient restrained Sage from rising. “I took it off the stove while you were baking, its cooling off in the big pottery jar.
Sage smiled, patting her friends paw. “Simeon, I dont know what Id do without you!
Gesturing for silence, Simeon turned his ear toward the window ledge and, as if speaking to nobeast, he said, “If those paws touch a single pastie, theyll be washing greasy pots for two seasons!
There was a gasp of surprise from the other side of the window ledge, followed by a scurry of paws running off. Again Simeon restrained Sage from rising. “No problem; I heard those Dibbuns sneaking up on our pasties a while back, little rascals. Though my ears tell me weve got a bigger problem coming our way.
Sage was about to inquire what it was, when the kitchen door swung open and Tarquin L. Woodsorrel breezed in.
“Phew, its a scorcher today! Afternoon, chaps. Howre things comin along on the jolly old caterin front, wot?
Sister Sage coughed politely. “Very well, thank you, Mr. Woodsorrel. Is anything the matter?
Tarquins smile would have melted butter. “Matter? Why, no, my charming Queen of the Kitchens. Matter o fact, Im just here in me official capacity as sampler.
Simeon nodded knowingly. “I thought you might be. Theres a carrot and onion flan right behind you. Perhaps youd like to sample that.
The hungry hare spun around and turned his attentions to an oversized golden pastried creation. He wolfed down a huge mouthful as he spoke. “Mmf snch! My very, very favorite. I say, are we havin carrot onion flan for tea, chaps?
Simeon chuckled, shaking his head. “No, I made that specially for you, so you wouldnt sample the entire tea-time menu down to empty plates.
Tarquin ignored the remark and continued bolting hastily. “Grranph! Scuse me. What a considerate cove you are, Simeon.
Sage sniffed distantly as she watched Tarquin eating, then rose and went to the kitchen door. Striking a small riangle that hung over the doorway, she remarked pointedly, “I think we should get the servers in to take all this temptation out of your way, Mr. Woodsorrel. Im training some of the Dibbuns to take up table serving, you know. At the sound of the triangle, several Dibbuns trooped io and stood waiting for the trolleys to be loaded. Tarquin congratulated three of his own brood heartily. “Excellent!
Learnin a bit of waitin on; your mater will be proud of you when she gets back, wot?
Sage counted the number of Dibbun serving trainees. “Eight? Theres two missing.
“Right, paws up all those who arent here! Tarquin chortled.
Sister Sage turned on him severely. “Mr. Woodsorrel, fes no joking matter! These young ones have got to learn their responsibilities to others!
Tarquin swallowed the last of his flan apologetically. Oh, er, right you are, marm, buckle down, do a bit of thingeeyin, does em the world of good. Now then, yousprogs, which two are absent? Speak up!
A small squirrel held up his paw. “Fink its the mouse-K$abe an Furrtil the mole, sir, he said.
The hare picked crumbs from his whiskers. “Mouse-babe an Furrtil, eh. Where would they be at?
“If we knew, then we could tell you, Daddy! one of the little leverets replied.
Tarquin blinked and twitched his ears. “Hmm, quite. What dyou think, Simeon? You know as much about bally Dibbuns as the next chap.
Simeon put aside his beaker and stood up. “Come on, Tarquin, wed best go and check all the gates. If theyre locked then nobeast has been out today and they should be somewhere inside the Abbey walls.
“But apposin a gates unlockered, sir? the small squirrel tugging Simeons robe asked.
The ancient mouse patted the Dibbuns bushy tail. “If a gates unlocked, that means a major search in Moss-flower after tea, my little friend.
Afternoon tea was taken in the orchard. Mother Mellus sat beneath a gnarled pear tree with Saxtus. The old badger was plainly worried; her pastie lay untouched as she confided to the Father Abbot.
“Its always that small wicker gate in the east wall, the one which leads straight into Mossflower Wood. Ive often said that the lock should be placed higher, so that tiny paws cant reach it. Ooh! That mousebabe, hes the one whos led Furrtil astray. Shes always been a splendid little mole maid, not a moments trouble until the mouse-babe comes along with one of his wild ideas.
Saxtus took her paw and squeezed it reassuringly. “Brother Fingle and some others are searching upstairs right now, so stop worrying, Mellus. Remember last week when the mousebabe and three others were found sleeping the Abbots bed in the dormitories?
Mellus took a halfhearted bite of her pastie. “I suppose youre right, friend. Lets wait and see. I wish we could contact Oak Tom and Treerose, but no beast ever seems to know what part of the woodlands theyre living in. They have a spring house, a summer residence ...
Saxtus squeezed her paw tighter. “Theyll be found. Now stop worrying and eat!
But the two Dibbuns were not found anywhere inside f, UK Abbey walls. Afternoon shadows were beginning to J lengthen, tea was long finished. Tarquin lined up a score 3-.qf Redwallers, then, pacing up and down in front of them, i, .lie gave his orders.
“Right, listen up in the ranks now! Proceed out of the east wallgate into the forest, spread out in line an comb the area. Leave no stone unturned. No questions? Good, if. lets make a start, then. By the left, quick march!
High sun lanced down through the leafy greenery of still depths, while somewhere in the distance a oo call echoed through glade and copse. River Moss many tributaries. One of them, a small, slow-flowing stream, had two small visitors on its bank that afternoon. A purloined dormitory sheet from Redwall Abbey was draped over a low willow bough to form a tent, and inside Sal the mousebabe and the little molemaid Furrtil, un-fpware of the upset they had caused, playing at Dibbun games. The mousebabe carried a stick, which he fondly imagined was the sword of Martin the Warrior, while Forrtil was armed with a knotted length of twine, obvi
Marie! s Gullwhacker. She swiped at an inquisitive gnat with it. “Oi be gurtly ungered, Marthen. Usns missed tea.
Martin, alias the mousebabe, tied a thread to his stick. “Nev mind, Mariel. I catch us a big fish inna river.
“Hurr, whurr ee be getten fires to cookn et?
The mousebabe thought about this a moment, then tossing aside the thread he lay down. “We goin asleep then. Warriors got to ave sleep!
“Hurr, but oi doant bee toired.
“Course youre tired, the mousebabe snorted impatiently. “All a beasts gets tired!
“Oi dearly loikes tgo back to ee Abbey furr supper, then oi be sleepen in moi own bed ifn oi toired.
The mousebabe sat up, throwing a comforting paw about Funtils neck as they both watched the stream drifting by. “Mm, I wanna go back to the Abbey, too. We sit ere til they comesn finds us, eh?
Furrtil shook her head despairingly at this announcement. “O. gurt seasons! Youm gotten uz lost, baint you?