The giant hare Rockjaw Grang was carrying the baby badger in a sling across his chest. He frowned at the
Sergeant. “BegghT thy pardon, Sarge, but could y’keep thy voice down? Sithee, ah’ve just gotten yon tyke asleep for
his mor-nin’ nap!”
Major Perigord, who was marching at the head of the column, smiled whimsically at the thought of Rockjaw as a
nursemaid. “Don’t fret, Rock. If Galloper Riffle an’ Tuny are already there, they’ll have no shortage of blinkin’
badgermin-ders t’take the little ’un off y’paws, then you can sit down to a good ol’ tuck-in with the rest o’ the chaps,
wot?”
A dreamy look crossed Rockjaw’s face as he wiped a paw across his lips. “Redwall Abbey vittles, by ’eck, lead me
to ’em!’
28
Abbess Tansy and Arven, with a deputation of otters and elders, stood in the open gateway to greet the Long
Patrol. Captain Twayblade broke ranks to embrace the Abbess warmly.
“Mother Abbess, so good t’see you, old friend. You look wonderful!”
“Twayblade, what a lovely surprise. Welcome to our Abbey again!”
Old friends met old friends, and new ones were made as introductions flew thick and fast. The dashing hares of the
Long Patrol were much admired by the Redwallers as they stood there chatting in the Abbey gateway, leaning on their
weapons, smartly clad in their tunics, with medals and ribbons on display. Secretly, even the most humble
Abbeydwellers wished they too could present such a picture—jolly, courteous, and kind, but feared by their enemies
and totally perilous.
Major Perigord winked at Skipper. “What d’ye say, old lad, d’ye think everybeast here would like to march in with
us, make a jolly good entrance, wot!”
Skipper stood smartly to attention at the Major’s side. “Good idea, matey. Ahoy, form up in a line o’ fours, let’s
bring our guests ’ome in style. Arven, Shad, up front ’ere with meVthe Major. Great seasons, I wish we ’ad a band!”
Perigord drew his saber with a flourish and a rattle. “Your word is my command, sah. Rubbadub, beat us in with
your best drums, if y’would!”
Dibbuns whooped in delight and amazement as Corporal Rubbadub milled about, waving his paws and setting up a
dust and a din.
“Baboom! Baboom! Baboombiddy boombiddy boom! Drrrrrapadapdap! Drrrubbadubdub! Bababoom! Bababoom!
Bababoom!”
Cheering aloud and stamping their paws in time to the beat, the cavalcade marched across the lawns to the Abbey
in fine military style. Tammo and Pasque strode alongside Friar Butty and the molebabe Gubbio, chatting animatedly.
The young squirrel Friar had excellent news for them.
“You’ve arrived at a good time, friends. Today we’re bavin’ a great feast to celebrate the birth of three liddle owl-
chicks.”
Pasque’s normally soft voice was shrill with excitement. “I say! Y’mean we’re actually goin’ t’be guests at a
famous Red-wall feast?”
Gubbio grabbed her paw as he hop-skipped to Rubbadub’s drums. “Ho aye, marm, ee’ll ’ave such vittles’n’fun as
ne’er afore!”
As soon as they were inside the Abbey, those hares who had never visited Redwall were led off on a grand tour by
a gang of eager Dibbuns. Other Redwallers went about their tasks to prepare for the festivities, while Abbess Tansy
and her elders retired to Cavern Hole with Perigord, Twayblade, Rockjaw, and Torgoch.
The hares were offered light refreshments of candied fruits and red-currant cordial as they exchanged news and
information with their hosts. Tansy listened carefully to the account of the skirmish in the defile, shaking her head in
sorrowful bewilderment at the death of Russa Nodrey, who had visited Redwall many times in bygone seasons. When
the tale was told, Rockjaw opened the sling, which he had held easily concealed beneath his tunic, and presented the
Abbess with his precious burden.
“Sithee, marm, this is the babby. A grand likkle male an’ good as gold for company on a march, ’e is!”
Tansy could not wait to hold the tiny bundle. She placed a cushion in her lap and laid him on it. He was no more
than a season old, hardly any age at all. Lying flat on his back, the babe yawned and opened his soft dark eyes as the
Abbess inspected him. The badger’s back was silver gray, and his chest and paws were velvety black. He had a moist
brown nose and a snow-white head, sectioned by two thick black stripes running either side of the muzzle from
whiskers to ears, covering both eyes.
Craklyn touched the upturned footpads. “Seasons of winter! Just look at the size of these paws! He’s goin’ to be
big as an oak when he grows to full size!”
Tansy chuckled fondly as she tickled the babe’s tiny white-tipped ears. “Welcome to Redwall Abbey, little sir, and
pray, what name do you go by?”
The baby badger held out his paws to her, growling, “Nun-nee! Nunnee!”
“The little chap’s said that several times,” Major Perigord explained, “only word he seems t’know. We’ve surmised
that it means Nanny, the old badger he was with. She was prob’ly his grandmother or nurse—’fraid we haven’t a clue
as to who his parents are. There was certainly no sign of them where we found him. Had there been two grown badgers
with him, those vermin would’ve given the place a wide berth, wot!”
Foremole Diggum placed a honeyed hazelnut in the babe’s paws, and immediately he began chewing the nut
hungrily.
“Burr,” said Diggum, “‘ee may be a h’orphan, but thurr b’aint nuthin’ amiss wi’ee appetoit, no zurr!”
A bowl of creamy mushroom soup was sent for, and Tansy fed the babe while other matters were discussed. The
Red-wallers knew nothing of Rapscallions, nor had any other vermin been sighted in the region of late. Arven related
the dangerous position of the Abbey’s outer south wall and their plans to rebuild it.
By the time the discussions were near their close, the little badger had licked the soup bowl clean and gone back to
sleep in the Abbess’s lap. Major Perigord had listened pensively to the problems faced by Redwall and its creatures.
He stood abruptly, having reached a decision.
“Well, chaps, my duty as Commanding Officer, Long Patrol, is pretty clear. Until your wall is rebuilt and the
Abbey safe’n’secure once more, me an’ my hares will guard Redwall an’ patrol the area night and day. Couldn’t do
any less, wot! Lady Cregga’d have me ears’n’tail if I didn’t. So, marm, if you are willin’ to accept us, me an’ my troop
are at y’service!”
Bowing low, Perigord presented his saber hilt-first to the Abbess. Abbess Tansy touched the handle, signifying her
approval.
“My humble thanks to you, Major. I am sure that I speak for all Redwallers when I say that we are assured of
safety by your presence, and your gallant offer is warmly accepted!”
Foremole Diggum threw in a gem of mole logic: “Gudd! Then if you’n’s be afinished usin’ gurt long apportant
words, may’ap us’n’s best go an’ get ee feast ready, ho urr aye!”
Midge Manycoats sucked his paw ruefully. “Huh, I’ve just been pecked by perishin’ owlbabes!”
Chuckling, Friar Butty replaced the lid on a steaming pan. “You must taste good to ’em, Midge. Come over ’ere
an’ lend a paw. I’m showin’ Tammo an’ Missie Pasque how t’make Mossflower Wedge.”
Both hares were intrigued by the goings-on in Redwall’s kitchens; it made such a pleasant change from marching
and fighting. Pasque had lined a rectangular earthenware dish with pastry, which Butty was viewing approvingly.