Brian Jacques - Redwall #06 - The Outcast of Redwall

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.

Bryony pointed to the door, eyes alight with anger. “Get out of here this instant, before I report you to the Abbess.

Veil pushed past her, protesting his innocence. “I wasnt stealing anythin, honest I wasnt!

Bryonys love was temporarily clouded by contempt. “Hah! Just like you never stole the blue pot, eh? Ill bet you were surprised when it showed up againif youd had your way it would have been at the bottom of the pond!

The ferrets eyes radiated hatred at the mousemaid who had reared him since infancy. “Yah, go on! Blame me, youre like all the rest. I found that pot by the south wallsteps, but I couldnt return it, could I? Everybeast would say I told you so, it was Veil. I was too scared to take it back, so I chucked it in the pond.

Bryony softened toward him and, taking his six-clawed paw, she tried reasoning with him. “I took it back. Veil, but you could have taken it back, then it would have proved to them that you werent a thief. Cant you see, T did it to help you!

Veil tore his paw from the mousemaids grasp. “You were spyin on me, just like you were a moment ago, Miss Goody-Goody. I hate you!

He dashed off down the stairs, leaving Bryony dumbfounded, with a large teardrop trickling down each of her cheeks.

28?

That same evening, Skipperjo the otter and Redfarl the squirrel brought their warriors to supper at the invitation of the Abbess. It was a jolly meal, and the food, as usual, was excellent. A large red currant, apple, and blackberry tart graced the center table, surrounded by small bowls of gooseberries and cream, a strawberry syllabub, and wild cherry flans. Servers went around with large jugs of dandelion fizz, specially brewed by old Bral Hogmorton the Cellarkeeper and his friend the Fore-mole. It was an instant success, especially with the Dibbuns, many of whom fell about chuckling when the bubbles fizzled in their mouths.

Jodd the squirrelhare set about demolishing an immense deepernever pie, made for him by a group of moles who betted each other that it was too big for him to finish. The Foremole had wagered that he could. Smiling from ear to ear he collected candied chestnuts from the gaping moles as Jodd licked the deep pie plate clean.

“Hurr hurr ahurr hohurr! Ee should never bet agin ow much yon arebeast can put aways, eem a champeen scoffer, ho urr!

Jodd wiped his chops delicately on a white serviette. “My word, ceedingly tasty! Right ho, chaps, whats the jolly old main course look like?

Abbess Meriam shook with stifled laughter. “No more for you until youve given us a song, sir.

Jodd was immediately up, cavorting around the tables and twanging on his bowstring as he launched into a comic ditty.

“O the reason why I sing this ballad

Is cos I wish I were a salad;

If I were a salad, a great big one,

Id lick the plate when I was gone!

But merrydown derrydown, I dont care,

Im hungry as a good old hare.