Brian Jacques - Redwall #06 - The Outcast of Redwall

Togget waved a paw in the air as if creating a spell. “Youm leave thatbeast to oi, moi dear.

Friar Bunfold was sleeping in his favorite place, an old wheelbarrow in the orchard. His bulging stomach rose and fell with each snore, the leaves of an overhanging pear tree trembling with every exhalation of his breath. Bryony covered her mouth to stifle a giggle as her molefriend shook the fat mousefriar by his sleeve urgently. “Coom on, ole zurr, wakey oop, ee toald oi to wake ee ifn ee gurt cake was a burnen in ee hoven!

Bunfold fell out of the barrow with a start. “Cake burning, where, what cake?

As Togget and Bryony ambled back off to the kitchens the mole nodded ruefully. “Dearie me, but oi do tell whackin fibbers, tho et did wake ole Bunny oop, hurr hurr, that et did!

Cheerful Redwallers called out to Bunfold as he bustled through Great Hall on his way to the kitchens.

“Good afternoon. Friar. Whats for dinner tonight?

Exercising his dry wit, Bunfold gave a mock scowl at a young squirrel. “Boiled frog an toasted clouds for you, Brugg, mladdo!

Brugg made a face, playing along with the Friar. “Yukk! Sooner have lightnin soup an ditchwater!

Togget managed to pull Bruggs tail as he passed. “Loight-nen zoopnditchwatter, oill see wot oi cn do for ee, maister, bo urr!

Bryony giggled helplessly at the face Brugg made, and gasped, “Dont be sad, Brugg, Ill see if I can bake a little thundercake to dip in your lightnin soup, hahahaha!

The Abbey kitchens were all abustle, clouds of steam wreathing the woodlanders as they dashed to and fro. A huge hedgehog wife called Myrtle waved a ladle at a large cake that lay on a stone cooling slab, saying, “Dyou want to slice it now, Friar? It baked well.

Selecting a flat, thin slicing knife, Bunfold winked at her. “Burnt cake eh, well lets see. Togget, bring the cherry conserve. Heartwood, is that meadowcream ready yet?

Heartwood, a reliable old otter, dipped his spoon into a pottery bowl and sampled the golden mixture. “Stirred gently to a turn, Friar matey, ready as ever!

Lifting the bowl, Bunfold was forced lo execute a nimble sideskip for two tiny otters scooting past with a laden trolley, both yelling in deep olderbeast voices, “Gangwaaaaay, watch ybacks there, mates!

Bunfold arrested their progress, catching both by their aprons as he halted the trolley with a quick footpaw. “Whoa there, steady up, Dibbuns. Whats all this?

The otter twins, Blatt and Scrimmo, waggled their tails respectfully at the Redwall Friar.

“Buttn mushrooms, matey, sir!

“Aye, an watershrimps too, sir, matey!

Bunfold sorted through the snowy white mushrooms and inspected the netful of almost transparent watershrimp. “Good work, Dibbuns. Did you gather these?

“Sir, this very mornin out in the woods, matey.

“Our mum elped us too, she said to bring em straight tyou.

Bunfold rummaged in his apron pocket and, pulling forth two candied chestnuts, he gave the otters one each. “Champion stuff! Dont forget an thank your mum for me. Theyll make great pasties for the feast this evenin. Want to stay and watch me cutnfill this big cake?

Blatt and Scrimmo nodded furiously. Myrtle lifted both and stood them on the cooling slab for a good view of the proceedings.

Togget stood by, tottering wearily, both paws latched firmly on to the handles of a sizeable jar. “Youm gunner chatter-njaw wi they two hotters or fix oop ee cake, maister? Thisn aint gettin much loighter, burr no.

With swift sureness Bunfold sliced through the sides of the pale fawn cake, and then sliced again. The little otters watched wide-eyed as the Friar worked, separating the cake into three flat circles, moist and gently steaming. Bryony closed her eyes, savoring the aroma.

Heartwood smiled at the otters, “By okey, mates, it do smell good!

Blatt and Scrimmo were allowed to wield flat beech wood spreaders, covering the bottom layer until it was one thick smooth circle of dark red conserve. Then Togget and Bryony took their turn, layering the middle tier even more thickly with meadowcream. Heartwood and the Friar carefully placed the three circles together in their former positions and coated the cake generously with the remainder of the meadowcream.

The six cake makers began decorating, working around the sides and top with a random pattern of hazelnut and almond flakes, sliced early strawberries, and tiny young rose leaves crystallized in honey. The finished cake attracted great attention. Redwallers gathered round to admire and comment on the masterpiece that had been created in their kitchens.

“Its the very picture of a spring afternoon!

“Bo urr, et surpintly lukks wunnerful coolncreamloike!

“Yes, shame it has to be eaten, really.

“Hah! Ymean twould be a shame not to eat it!

“Bet I could eat the lot, all on my own!

“Greedyguts, youd be sick for two seasons!

“But itd be well worth it for a cake like that!

“Hush now, here comes Mother Abbess!

All work in the kitchens stopped as Meriam Abbess of Red-wall entered; never appearing to walk, she glided in like a swan crossing a still lake. Meriam was tall for a mouse, slender and of middle seasons, though her great wisdom and serenity would have done credit to one twice her age. Clad in a simple long robe of pale green belted by a soft white cord, paws folded into her wide sleeves, the Mother Abbess of Red-wall radiated calm and respect to everybeast around her. A rare fleeting smile hovered about her hazel eyes as she viewed the confection and said, “A truly beautiful cake, Friar Bun-fold.

Bunfold bowed, his chubby face glowing with pleasure. “Thankee, marm, I had lots o good help tmake it.

A brief nod passed between Bryony and the Abbess, who said, “I would not doubt the truth of that, Friar. It might have spoiled in the oven whilst you were napping in the orchard, had it not been for the vigilance of Togget and our little flower, Bryony.

The surprise on Bunfolds face was forestalled as Meriam continued speaking, lowering the tone of her voice. “You are a good old Friara little rest each noontide is not begrudged you, Bunfold. Leave this now, I am sure your helpers can prepare the festive food well enough. I need the wise counsel of yourself and Heartwood. Please accompany me to the gatehouse. Barlom has a visitor waiting there.

Friar Bunfold swiftly untied his apron and hung it up, wiping face and paws on a clean towel as he issued orders to Togget. “Could you make up a tray and bring it to the gatehouse, my friend? Hot mint tea, a flagon of cold fruit cordial, some of those scones we baked this morning, oh, and a plate of the thin arrowroot and almond slices that the Abbess favours, theres a good mole!

“Hurr that oi am, roight away, zurr Bunny!

Toggets words were lost upon Bunfold; he and Heartwood were scurrying off in the wake of Abbess Meriam, who was gliding away from them rapidly.

Barlom was self-appointed as Gatekeeperthe gatehouse was one of the few places he could carry out his Recorders duty in relative peace. A solid-looking squirrel named Sumin often dropped by to chat with him, and he was headed there that day on Barloms request, to discuss the strange visitors arrival.

Sumin arrived with the Abbess and, in his stout, no-nonsense way, held open the door for her, nodding curtly. “Marm, tis a kestrel within your gatehouse, dont be feared. Im sure he means harm to nobeast.

The Abbess gestured for Sumin to enter. “Mayhap you should hear what this bird has to say. Please come in with us, my friend.

When Bunfold and Heartwood arrived they entered also, leaving the gatehouse door ajar. The fierce, handsome kestrel was perched on a chairback, watching all with keen golden eyes. As Meriam introduced herself and the others, the hawk watched them in silence, his head coming up sharply as a knock sounded on the door, followed by Toggets voice.