Veil plucked a rosy apple that was ready to drop from a low bough. He bit into it, spat out the piece, and flung the apple away rebelliously. “Dont want one! Theyre all against me in this Abbey!
He dashed off out of the orchard. Bryony half rose, calling after him anxiously. “Veil, come back, Im on your side, you know that!
But he was away, dashing off to the bushes near the south wall stairs, a place he often went to in times of trouble.
Bryony sat alone, her mind in a turmoil. Since Veil had been a Dibbun, things had gone missing, and each time she had defended him, never able to believe he was the thief. Often he was caught red-pawed; then she would apologize for him, lectures would follow, then tears and solemn promises from Veil that he had changed his ways. Bryony knew he had not, but she had cared for him, nursed him, and comforted him; the mousemaid loved Veil as if she were his real mother. Standing upright, Bryony wiped her eyes and clenched her paws resolutely. Today would begin a new era. She would assure Veil of her faith in him, show him that others tould like and trust him if he was honest with them. He would discover happiness through goodness, and together they would learn to shake off the clouds of mistrust, until Veil earned the respect of all Redwallers!
The young ferret was growing tall and strong, lithe and sinewy like the father he had never known. He sat in the cover of the bushes alongside the south wall stairs, tossing the blue honey-pot in the air and catching it skillfully with his agile, six-clawed paw. Smiling craftily, he licked the last of the honey from inside the pots rim. Maybe he might have sneaked it back into the kitchen when it was empty. But no! Friar Bun-fold had twisted his ear; the fat stupid mouse would pay for that by never again seeing his beloved blue honeypot.
Bryony knew where Veil would be. She climbed the east wall stairs in the afternoon heat and wandered slowly along the battlemented top of the outer wall, hoping to catch a cooling breeze. Seeing the bushes moving in Veils hiding place, she remained silent, peering down to see what he was doing. The blue honeypot rose above the bushes as he threw it high and caught it. Bryony held her breath and ducked low, and she bit her lip hard to stop herself crying out.
Holding the pot close in to his side, Veil hurried over to the Abbey pond. Nobeast was there to see him, they would all be inside the Abbey at lunch. Bryony had watched him from her position on the walltop; now scurrying, bent low, she dashed around the battlements, descending the wall stairs at the southwest corner. Arriving at the opposite side of the pond, she peered through a screen of rushes at Veil.
He filled the pot with water and spoke to it. “Thanks for the honey, always tastes sweeter when its stolen. Nobeast will ever see you again. Just think, Im the last creature on earth to touch you. Good-bye, little blue pot!
He threw it high over the pond, drawing in a breath sharply as he realized that he had thrown it too hard. The pot flashed blue in the sunlight as it splashed down at the far side, right in the center of the rushes. Bryony crouched low, watching Veil.
He stood on tip-paw, peering across the pond, not able to see the pot. Then the young ferret laughed, shrugged, and ran off toward the Abbey, thinking that perhaps there would be some lunch left.
It was midafternoon when Togget found the pot, nestling in the top of an open sack of hazelnut kernels. Friar Bunfold was overjoyed, though Abbess Meriam tapped her footpaw thoughtfully. Why had the Friars pot reappeared empty, clean, and washed?
Bryony could not bring herself to face Veil, because she knew he would deny everything. Either that or he would wheedle and weep, explaining it all away until everybeast in Red-wall, with the exception of himself, was to blame. The mousemaid felt an awful sense of guilt, but she could not have left the pot in the rushes, knowing how much Bunfold valued it. Returning it secretly was the only thing she could do in the circumstances. Sighing heavily, Bryony tried putting the entire incident to the back of her mind. The mousemaid loaded up a tray with cooled mint tea, damson preserve, and some scones freshly baked that day, adding a scoop of meadowcream.
Bella watched the doorlatch rise and the door swing slowly inward. Bryony entered, tongue sticking from one side of her mouth as she balanced the tray she was carrying. The ancient silver badger beamed fondly at her friend. “What a good little mousemaid you are, bringing noontide tea to a helpless old fogy like myself!
Setting the tray down, Bryony arranged the old badgers shawl snugly about her huge shoulders and opened the window to let in a breath of fresh summer air. She poured tea for them both and set out the rest of the food. Then she perched up on the arm of Bellas chair.
The ancient sipped tea, watching Bryony over the top of her tiny spectacles. “So, my friend, she said, “whats troubling your little heart?
“Oh, this and that. Bella, have you been good all your life?
The badgers chuckle sounded like a deep rumble. “Bless you, no, sometimes Ive been quite naughty, like now, piling all this damson jam and cream onto one scone. Shame on me!
Bryony laughed as she watched the scone vanish in two bites. Wiping cream and preserve from Bellas lip, the mouse-maid continued, “What I mean to say is, dyou think anybeast could be naughty all the time and never be good at all?
Bella took another sip of tea. “Ah, thats the difference, pretty one. Most creatures can be good most of their life and naughty sometimes, just like you and me. Others are good and never naughty, like Abbess Meriam. But then there are the other kind, those beasts who never do good, because they dont know how to and wont listen to any advice from good-beasts. Naughtiness can grow and grow, like a marshweed, until it turns to badness, then if it continues there is only one name for it: evil!
Bryony put aside her scone and tea. “Have you ever known an evilbeast, and if you did, well, did they change and become goodbeasts?
The old badger shook her head. “Questions, questions, why all the questions, my little flower? You should be out in the sunlight, enjoying your seasons with the other young Red-wallers. Wait, let me guess. Do you know somebeast who is evil, is that why you ask me?
Bryony got down from the arm of the chair. “No, Bella, I dont know anybeast who is evil, a little naughty maybe, but not bad or evil. I think that others can drive a creature to naughtiness, always accusing and blaming them. After a while it must make the creature unhappy and drive him, er, or her, to be naughty, because nobody expects them to be good, thats what I think.
A heavy paw descended gently on Bryonys shoulder. “I think we both know the creature you are talking about, little one. Maybe it is the fault of Meriam and myself for accepting such a one into our Abbey.
The mousemaid began fussing with the shawl and plumping up cushions around her friend. “Youre wrong, Bella. I know you are old and very wise, but youre wrong. I dont know who youre talking about. Time for your afternoon nap, marm. Shall I leave the window open?
The great silver badger closed her eyes, saying, “Whilst there are creatures like you on earth, mere is hope for others, my young friend, but dont waste your youth and kindness upon hopeless cases.
Bryony touched a paw to Bellas lips. “Sshh! Enough now, you need your sleep.
Leaving the room quietly, the mousemaid closed the door carefully behind her. Noticing that the door to the sick bay was ajar, she looked in, expecting to see the slender mouse Sister Withe, the Infirmarykeeper and Herbalist.
Veil was in the sick bay; he had his back to Bryony, unaware of her presence.
“Veil! What are you doing in here? she said sharply.
Veil started at the sound of her voice. Bowls and jars clattered and fell as the ferret stammered, “Er... er... Nothing! I... I... er, I was just looking around.