The Lutra - Jacques, Brian - Redwall 09 - The Pearls Of Lutra

Teasel beckoned the wretched trio of Dibbuns to follow her. "I cert'nly can, Auma, there's always lots o' greasy pots, messy dishes an' floors t'be scrubbed. Veggibles need peelin' too, I shouldn't wonder. Come on, Dibbuns, step lively now!"

They were led off, murmuring to each other.

"Yugh! Gurt greasy pots an' mucky ole floors. Boo urr!"

"Us'd been better off fusticated!"

"Me was nearly succafated with alia tha' nettil soop!"

When they were gone, Auma turned to the otter gatekeeper. "Wullger, would you do me a favor? Take Furlo Stump with you, get hammer and spikes, and nail that attic cupboard shut. We don't want any more wandering Dibbuns hiding in there."

Wullger was about to carry out Auma's bidding when Glenner called out from the northwest walltop, "Two creatures ap-proachin' the Abbey, looks like Skipper an' the owl, in need of 'elp the way they're staggerin' about!"

Auma was up and ambling swiftly for the main gate. "Come on, Wullger, you too, Sister Cicely! Tansy, will you and Rollo see to that cupboard, please?"

Rollo waved after the badger. "Aye, you go and look after Skipper and Gerul. Come on, Tansy, and you, Piknim and Craklyn, I'm getting a bit old to be wielding a heavy hammer. It's bad enough having to climb all those stairs!"

Piknim held a wooden baton across the cupboard door. Craklyn positioned a spike between the baton end and the door frame, holding her head to one side, and said, "Go easy with that hammer, Tansy, mind my paws!"

As she was about to strike, Tansy paused. "Find the three babes and you will know ..." All at once the words of Martin the Warrior came back to her. She lowered the hammer. “Move that baton aside," she said. "Let's just check inside the cupboard before we board it up."

The inside of the cupboard was empty, save for Fermald's fishing rod. Rollo held it up, testing the rod's balance, and nodded. "This is a fine old fishing rod. If I'm not mistaken it looks like the one that belonged to Martin's grandsire, Matthias. He was a splendid angler, I've heard say. Yes, wonderfully made, see the pawgrip, good stout yew; the rest is made from young crack-willow whipped and bound with waxed flax . .. What's the matter, Tansy?"

Tansy took the rod from her friend the Recorder and inspected the middle part carefully. "Rollo, lend me your knife a moment," she said.

Mystified, the old bankvole passed Tansy the small quill knife he used for resharpening feather quill pens. The hedgehog maid explained as she worked, "The middle of this rod has been rebound. I noticed some of this flax looked newer than the rest, so I'll cut through it carefully and unwind it. .. Like this ..."

Snipping through the binding she began reeling it off, her voice sounding more excited as she twirled the rod in her paws. "Hahah! I had a feeling we would find something, and I was right! Look, there's a piece of paper underneath this binding!"

Thin parchment showed clearly. Piknim caught the flax, tugging it as Tansy twirled the rod swiftly, and the yellowed slip floated to the floor. As it landed, they could all see two words written large on the back: Well done.

The four friends sat on the floor as Tansy turned the parchment over and began to read Fermald's clues to the fourth pearl.

Chapter 27

Skipper and Gerul ate hungrily, slopping down elderberry and rosehip cordial between mouthfuls of leek pastie and hazelnut cheese. Sister Cicely and Brother Dormal the herbalist worked diligently, cleaning and binding their dirt-encrusted wounds. The otter Chieftain had told their story to the Redwallers who crowded into the kitchen. Some of them shook their heads in disbelief at the narrative.

"Great seasons, Skipper slew one o' those awful lizards?"

"He ain't a Skipper of otters for nothin', that'n's tough!"

"Look at that scar down Skip's side!"

Skipper chuckled and patted Gerul. "You should've seen me ole mate 'ere. He gave 'em what for!"

Gerul lowered his head, modestly picking crumbs from his feathered chest. "Ah, 'twas nothin', sir, as me ould mother used t'say, leave yer enemies like a plate after a good feedwell licked!"

Auma brought a pail of warm water infused with herbs for the pair to bathe weary paws and talons in. "Would it do any good to raise a force and follow Martin?" she asked. "He and the hare may be in sore need of help if they're still trying to rescue Viola and the Abbot. What d'you think, Skipper?''

The otter winced as Sister Cicely snipped away fur from a wound. "I don't think Martin'd want Redwallers roamin' the country lookin' fer 'im, marm. I'll send a score of my otters they'll make it down t'the sea followin' the streams."

Brother Dormal inspected Genii's damaged wing gingerly. "I think your flying days may well be over, friend," he said.

The owl was about to shrug, but thought better of it. "Ah well, not t'worry, sir, flyin's not everythin', y'know. Sure I'll get about just grand on me stout talons. Like me ould mother used t'say, walkin's good as wingin' whenever it's wet!"

Friar Higgle placed a platter of fruit tarts between Gerul and Skipper. "At least it hasn't affected your appetite."

Standing on a bench next to an old stone sink, three apron-clad Dibbuns scoured away at breakfast platters and pots. Arven glanced across to where Gerul and Skipper were being fussed over and fed. The little squirrel nudged his mole companions.

"Tchah! Looka them, they runned away an' cummed back all muckied up an' everybeasts be's nice to 'em, but wot 'appen to us'ns? We on'y went missin' a likkle time an' didden get filfy like tha'."

The molebabe Diggum scrubbed away halfheartedly at a pot with a wedge of soft sandstone. "Ee be roight, mate, we'm be scolded an' put t'work, hurr, but theybeasts be treated vurry noice, et bain't furr!"

Gurrbowl pulled an oatmeal-crusted bowl from the sink. "Burr aye, may'ap if us'ns stayed away longer an' cummed back lots dustier, we'm be treated gudd an' get noice vittles."

Arven clenched a chubby paw resolutely. "Me make a plan! Nex' time us'ns be lotsa brave, runaway inna woodlan's, take big bagga foods an' weppins, we fight alia badbeasts. Hah! we come back very very muck filfy, mud splatty, yurk! Then they be much gladda t'see us!"

Tansy's voice echoed round the attic as she read Fermald the Ancient's message. It was very complicated, but the four intrepid searchers expected no less.

"My fourth tear I shed,

For the Abbey Redwall,

Laid where it never

Should hatch or fall.

Below the mouth of a mouse looking south,

All in a deserted dwelling.

So sit o'er the maidenhair, gaze up north,

And solve what my next words are telling.

Put a home with our Abbey Warrior,

North East South at the start,

Then to complete this riddle,

Add the last thing in 'my heart'."

Tansy shook her head despairingly. "Well, I've seen some riddles in my time, but this one's a beauty. It's about as clear as a swamp-covered frog. Still, we won't solve it sitting round here." She jumped up and led the way down the spiral staircase. "Let's have lunch and spend all afternoon and evening on the puzzle."

By midday it was hot, and the grass was curling and dry, as if spring mists and rains were long gone. Friar Higgle had set up a buffet table in the orchard, and now he sat in the shade of a spreading damson tree with Auma and some Redwall elders. The Friar gazed up at the thick white masses of flowers crowding the boughs overhead and recited a season poem.

"When the damson tree's crowned white,

And wild pear blooms also,

I thank the season for this sight,

That lets good creatures know

Summer is come to shed its gold,

Warm days grow long as holm oak flow'rs,

The bees hum songs they learned of old,