Brian Jacques - Redwall #16 - Triss

Where the tranquil green waters do flow.

But oh, their brave memory will rest with us all, Through the flowers of summer so dear,

Through the winter’s cold winds, after autumn leaves fall Lives a home in our hearts for them here.

Their brave lives were lost in the service of others, They died so that we might live free,

O ye sad grieving friends,

O ye fathers and mothers,

Spare a tear as the sun meets the sea!

All along the other three walls, Abbeydwellers stood in silence, watching as Skipper moved to stand by the Abbot. As the otter Chieftain raised his javelin overhead, they honoured the dead with a mighty shout: Redwaaaaaaaalllll!

28

Cavern Hall was lit with fresh candles, lanterns and torches. Everybeast took their place at tables ranged foursquare. Though the meal was held in celebration of Ovus’ and Bluddbeak’s lives, the Abbot had little stomach for food. He had seated Mokug between himself and Mai-bun, and they looked on in amazement as the hamster put away pasties, pies, salads, cakes and tarts, with the gusto of a regiment of hares.

Mokug chuckled through packed cheeks as he helped himself to October Ale, saying, I ain’t tasted a cooked vit-tle since I was a young’un.

Wunnerful stuff, ain’t it, yore majesty!

A faint smile crossed the Abbot’s homely face. I’m not a king, my friend.

You may call me Abbot or Father, whichever you please. Tell me, though, you must have quite a story to relate. Perhaps you’d honour us later?

The golden hamster nodded as he reached for more cheese. Story, me?

Hoho, I’ll say I have. I’ll tell it all to ye later, soon as I’ve taken enough o’ these good vittles aboard. Wunnerful stuff, ain’t it, yore Abbotship!

It was a warm night, so lanterns were brought out into the orchard.

Memm and the two otters Churk and Rumbol took the Dibbuns down to the Abbey pond for a paddlebefore bedtime. Almost every other Redwaller gathered in the lantern lights beneath the orchard trees, to hear Mokug, the golden hamster, tell his story. Mokug arrived with a scroll he had dug out of his belongings. Taking a sip from a beaker of redcurrant cordial, he launched straight into his strange tale.

I don’t remember havin’ a mother or father. All that I recall was bein’

a very young slave at Riftgard, an awful place, up in the high north, beyond the great seas. A fierce white ferret called Sarengo was the King there. Huh, nobeast disobeyed ole Sarengo. But he liked my golden fur, so I became the King’s personal slave. I was luckier than the rest o’ the other pore beasts who were slaves at Riftgard. Sarengo’s fat, lazy son, Agarnu, treated ‘em cruel. He was a bad ‘un!

Well, one day, Sarengo goes on a plunderin’ voyage aboard his big ship, the Seafang, It was crewed by lots o’ Ratguards. I was taken along, too, an’ so was Agarnu. He didn’t like goin’, but the King forced him to. Sarengo had a map with a plan to raid this Abbey, they say he slew some corsair vermin to get it. Yore Abbey wasn’t marked on their map, but written there it said that it was up a river that ran onto the western shores, somewhere in Moss-flower, a big red castle called Redwall, with many fine things, magic swords, valuable tapestries an’ big bells.

Skipper smiled and shook his rudder at the Abbot. Ole searat stories an’ lies, they get more fantastic every season. Magic swords an’ big bells. Huh! The Abbot nodded as he allowed Mokug to continue. But there was a place marked on that map, mates! A place said t’be full of badgers’

treasure, an underground fortress called Brockhall.’Twas said it had lain fergotten many long seasons an’ Badger Lords had used it to ‘ide their treasures away from vermin. Malbun snorted. Utter rubbish! The Abbot silenced her with a single look. Mokug continued. Well, seein’

as it was marked clear on the map, Sarengo decided to go for Brockhall first.’Twas hard an’ rough goin’, I can tell ye, but we made it. Only trouble was, when we got there, the place was full o’ poison snakes!

Well, not really full. But a full-growed female adder an’ three young

‘uns ain’t t’be sneezed at, as y’know. Old Sarengo wasn’t King for nothin’, thoughÑhe scouted the place out for days an’ days, and guess wot he found? Brockhall had two entrances! Aye, a front an’ a back one.

Crikulus interrupted. How do you know, Mokug? What proof is there of two entrances, eh?

The golden hamster winked knowingly at the ancient shrew. Be patient an’ I’ll show ye. But on with me story. When they attacked the place, Sarengo went in the front way. He sent Agarnu an’ some Ratguards in the back. Just like Agarnu, though, he arrived late. Sarengo was already caught by the big female adder, callin’ for help. Agarnu, the coward, ran straight by his father an’ out the front way. I was standin’ in the open doorway an’ I seen it all. Sarengo gave me his map showin’

the secret entrance, told me to stay put outside an’ guard it with me life!

Leaning forward, the Abbot held up a paw. Excuse my interruption, friend, but is the map on that scroll you have with you?

Mokug waved the rolled-up parchment triumphantly. This is it, yore Abbotness, kept it by me since that day. But wait’ll I tell ye the rest.

Sarengo was a champion battler. He died, but he took the big snake with himÑthey ended their lives locked t’gether! The three young snakes slew many a rat between ‘em, and only six Ratguards got out alive. Well, eight if ye count Agarnu an’ me. I’ve lived in Mossflower for ‘ow many seasons I don’t know. I always thought one day they’d come back from Riftgard to find the treasure, an’ give ole Sarengo a king’s burial.

So I lived alone an’ steered clear of everybeast. I didn’t know who was friend or foe, see, an’ I valued me freedom. But here I am now, with honest creatures an’ goodly cooked vittles.

I hope ye’ll let me stay. I’m only an old golden ‘amster, I won’t be no trouble to anybeast in this wunnerful Abbey.

Abbot Apodemus patted Mokug’s paw comfortingly. Of course you can stay.

I’m sure you’ll be a valuable addition to our Abbey, my friend. So the white ghost and the giant serpent locked together! That explains Ruggum’s storyÑhe was telling the truth. And now, Mokug, let us take a look at this map you have kept faithfully.

The Abbot took the scroll and unrolled it. I thought you said this was a map?

The hamster tapped his paw on the scroll. Well, ‘tis a map of sorts.

Sarengo wrote down the directions instead of makin’ a sketch, but it tells everythin’.

Log a Log took a peek at the parchment. Hah! It ain’t even proper writin’, just a load of ole squiggles, circles, dots an’ loops. Nobeast could make ‘ead nor tail o’ that lot!

Mokug nodded in agreement. That’s ‘cos ‘tis written in the royal script of Riftgard. Only Pure Ferrets of Sarengo’s blood can read’n’write like that.

Crikulus groaned and threw his paws up. You mean to tell us that you’ve held on to a written map since you were young, but you can’t understand a confounded word of it?

The golden hamster shrugged innocently. I ain’t no scholar, but I’ll wager one day that some clever beast’ll understand it.

Redwallers crowded round to look at the odd script. There was much scratching of tails, rudders and ears.

Well, I’m sure I’m not that clever beast!

Burr, nay zurr, neither bee’s oi!

The Abbot rolled the parchment up carefully and put it to one side.

Oh dear, what a shame. Well now, have you anything else to tell us at all, think?

The hamster looked the picture of dejection. I told ye all I know, Abbotness, on me word I did.

Skipper placed a sympathetic paw about Mokug’s shoulder, Never mind, matey, you did yore best. Let’s go inside, ye look tired. Sister Vernal, do you think we can find this good ole beast a bed of ‘is own?