Brian Jacques - Redwall #16 - Triss

word!

Both Triss and Log a Log nearly collapsed laughing. Hohoho, don’t say a blinkin’ word, eh?

Heeheehee, he’s speechless now. Just look at his face!

Scarum did. Huh, looks like a toad chokin’ on a tadpole, if y’ask me.

Yowchyow! Gerroff, y’big brute!

Triss and Log a Log sat dabbling their paws at the lake edge. They watched Sagax chasing Scarum, aiming hefty kicks at his tailscut as the hare fled, complaining loudly.

Wowch! Some pal you are, what’ve I done now? Woop! Where’s your jolly old sense of humour, wot? Owch, ger-roff!

41

Extract from the journal ofMalbun Grimp, Healer and Recorder of Redwall Abbey.

Joy and sorrow, sorrow and joy. There are times when the two go paw in paw. Sorrow for the goodbeasts we lost in battle, Redwallers and our friends, the Guosim shrews. There is always a price to be paid for peace. Though by Skipper’s account, the vermin paid the heavier priceÑvery few of them escaped to tell of their defeat. Yet the saddest picture that remains in my mind is that of Kroova, the otter who stayed behind to guard our Abbey. He and Shogg had become close friends. I was standing beside him on the walltops as Shogg marched off after the vermin. He waved to Shogg and shouted that he would ask Friar Gooch to make some shrimp’n’hotroot soup for them to share on his friend’s return. Poor Kroova, when he saw Shogg’s body being borne back on the shoulders of Skipper and Churk, my heart went out to him. Though Shogg was only a visitor to Redwall, that brave otter will be with us always now, resting beneath a shady willow by the pond. I awoke this morning and watched the sun rise over Redwall. In that stillness I felt the joy that peace brings. Our home, free from the threat of serpents and roving vermin bands. There is no feeling on earth to equal it!

Now, let me tell you of some extraordinary events. My friend, Abbot Apodemus, told me that he is allowing Martin the Warrior’s sword to leave Redwall! I could see clearly that Apodemus had been touched by the Warrior’s spirit. He assured me that one day the sword would come backÑhe was quite positive of it in his quiet way. So here is what will happen. Trisscar Swordmaid, accompanied by Kroova, Sagax, that rascal Scarum, Log a Log, Skipper and Mokug, together with a few chosen others, are embarking on a voyage. Before the summer is out they will sail to that land called Riftgard in the Northlands, far across the wide seas.

Churk the ottermaid, splendid young creature, is to take Skipper’s place at the Abbey. Her brother Rumbol has recruited ten other otters, all huge trustworthy beasts, to hold Redwall safe. These and a full regiment of Guosim shrews, commanded in Log a Log’s absence by Gulif, will stay with us until Skipper returns. I do not normally take to vermin, but the sole captive whom Redwallers took is a jolly fellow, and not at all unlikeable. His name is Grubbage. He is an excellent navigator, and will be going along on the voyage. Trisscar Swordmaid has sworn to free every slave in Riftgard. She has the bravest and best of companions to aid her. Good fortune go with them all.

Extract from the diary of Churk, ottermaid and Head Scholar to Redwall Abbey:

The feasting is done and our friends have departed. But what feasting!

Four nights and three days, the food, the fun, the poems and the singing.

Even the Dibbuns will remember it for as long as they live. Gulif and I accompanied the voyagers to the coast. We rose quietly and left in the hours before dawn. Uncle Skipper said that if we had not, it would have taken another three days to say our goodbyes and have even more supplies of food loaded onto the travellers.

Gulif is the proudest Guosim shrew alive. Just up the stream from where the ford crosses the path, Triss uncovered the most beautifully crafted small ship from its hiding place in a backwater. She presented it to the Guosim tribe, promoting Gulif to captain. It now goes under a new name; the strange writings have been blotted from its stem. Triss renamed it with one single word: Shogg! We journeyed down to the sand shores that fringe the wide blue seas. Grubbage took us to where a huge vessel was moored. We let Mokug rename it Freedom. So much food went aboard that Scarum wanted it called Scofftub. He was most disappointed not to be made cook, but Sagax would not permit it. It took a day to get the Freedom cleaned up and seaworthy again. She sailed on the evening tide. Gulif and I watched her go. We stood in the shallows and waved until she was out of sight, sailing over the deeps with a fiery setting sun turning her sails to crimson. May the wind be at their backs and the weather fair to speed them homeward one day.

Taken from the writings of Merola, Badger Lady of Salaman-dastron on the western shores of Moss/lower territory: This very afternoon a huge vessel sailed into the bay. Alarms were sounded; my husband, Lord Hightor, and Colonel Whippscut turned out the guard! Myself and the Colonel’s good lady, Dunfreda, watched from an upper window of the mountain. Imagine our surprise when our sons Sagaxus and Bescarum came wading ashore at the head of a very strange-looking crew! Well, we brought them all to the banqueting hall and the cooks went to work. Hightor and Whippscut kept pacing around Scarum and Sagax, patting their backs, calling them young rips, winking a lot, and enquiring about their adventures. But they are not young rips any longer, it is plain to see. In the space of a single season they have become warriors. They seem to have grownÑeven Dunfreda stopped wailing into her kerchief long enough to remark on this. They stand straighter, they even look perilous. My Sagax carries a battle-axe, of all things! I was astounded to hear that Memm Flackery sends her best regards and dearest wishes to me. We were the best of friends.

Oh dear, suddenly I feel quite old. But proud also, like Lord Hightor, to think our son has grown up as we wished he would: strong, honest, and true to his friends. Do you know, I’ve even taken a liking to that rascal Kroova WavedogÑhe’s growing up nicely, too. Scarum’s appetite hasn’t been affected, though he does look funny with half a set of whiskers. The stories I heard him telling his parents, he must be very, very brave! The pretty squirrelmaid and that fine big otter, Skipper, sat up almost all night, conferring with Sagax, Scarum, my husband and Colonel Whippscut. Unfortunately I had to take Dunfreda up to her room, as she was wailing so much nobeasts could hear themselves speak. She cried herself to sleep, saying it was because she was so happy. I fell asleep in the Colonel’s comfy armchair, overcome by the day’s events.

Next morning after breakfast, Hightor broke the news to me. Sagaxus is sailing away again! After being back home little more than a day, would you scarce credit it? However, I heard the full story, and I wish I was young enough to go with him. All those poor creatures across the sea, forced to live in slavery. My son and his friends will soon put a stop to all that, believe me. Hightor immediately put extra provisions and twenty veteran Long Patrol fighting hares aboard the ship to accompany them. Quite rightly, too!

My paws still ache from waving them off. I had to tear up an old bedsheet for poor Dunfreda’s tearsÑyou know how she always weeps. Both our sons assured us they would be back, if not permanently, then at least once every two seasons for a longer visit. I am sad and happy at the same timeÑit is all very confusing. Dunfreda and I hugged and kissed them so much, we got our gowns wet, standing there in the shallows. Skipper is the dearest of ottersÑhe would not let either of them aboard until they had said goodbye properly. I let Sagaxus go, because I felt I was embarrassing him in front of his friends. As the Freedom got under way, I had to borrow some of Dunfreda’s bedsheet. I could not stop myself from weeping. Hightor’s cheeks were damp, too, but he said it was seaspray. There they go, out onto the deeps, to who knows where. Goodbye, my son, I know you will make me even more proud of you than I am now.