Brian Jacques - Redwall #09 - Salamandastron

Now in those high and far-off days, The country was oppressed By vermin cruel, whose tyrant ways Would let no creature rest. But truth and brav'ry won the day, For through all Mossflow'r wide, Good honest creatures made their way To stand by Martin's side.. . . And they cried: Martin, Martin the Warrior of Redwall, With courage and his trusty sword, he came to

save us all.

The evil ones he put to flight And justice he restored. His heart was strong, his cause was right, And mighty was his sword. He helped to build our Abbey here, The land rings with his fame. Now peace lives here, we know no fear, For Martin was his name. Martin, Martin the Warrior of Redwall, With courage and his trusty sword, He came to save us all!"

Every creature joined in the last rousing chorus and set up a loud cheer. The echoes bounced off the homely red walls and soared to the blue summer skies above. Dingeye and Thura cheered as loud as anybeast, then they looked at each other in slight bewilderment.

"Wot're we cheerin' for? We don't even know who Martin is."

"Well, whoever 'e is, I bet 'e don't 'ave ter wash pots 'n' pans. Oh aye, I shouldn't think they'd be a-sayin', ' 'Ey you, with the mighty sword, get those greasy ol' pots scrubbed.' ''

Samkim explained about Martin to the stoats. "Martin the Warrior is the symbol of our Abbey. He lived many many years ago."

Dingeye waved a careless paw. "Oh, y'mean 'e's dead. No wonder they never make 'im wash pots, heeheehee! Yowch!"

Thrugg had clipped Dingeye neatly over the ear. "Show some respect, matey. Martin is our Abbey Warrior."

Ruefully rubbing his stinging ear, the stoat complained, "Well, 'ow was I ter know? Besides, if a creature's dead, then 'e's finished, an' that's all there is to it."

Sister Nasturtium patted the stoat's back. "You don't understand. Martin may have died a long time ago, but his spirit lives on in the very stones of Redwall and its creatures. Maybe he has not been seen or felt because this is a time of peace, though in troubled times he has visited certain ones and inspired them to great deeds."

Thura scratched his head. "Have you ever seen Martin?"

A silence fell over the company as they watched Nasturtium. She looked as if she were dreaming. With her eyes wide open fixed on the red stone walls in front of her, she started slowly to recite words they had never heard before.

"I am but an orchard shadow in the sunny

tide of noon,

The dust of olden seasons on a stone. My paw is light and silent as a waning

autumn moon;

I walk the halls of memory, alone. You may hear me as a whisper that the

wind has left behind,

Or see me as the pale calm light of dawn, Feel me take the toll of care, from off

your sleeping mind,

44 Brian Jacques

In times of deep despair and hope forlorn. Then I will be beside you in the corridors

of dream. A warrior's strength I'll give to you, my

friend, Like the waters of a storm that swell a tiny

mountain stream,

A mightiness your loved ones to defend. Injustice and evil will flee from your law, As all about you will say, 'There walks one touched, by the Warrior's

paw.' So wait, I will find you one day."

In the eerie hush that followed, little Dumble's voice piped up. "Aaaahhh silly! I no no worra's all about, Sista."

Nasturtium blinked and shuddered. "That makes two of us, Dumble. I don't know what made me say those lines, I've never heard them before. It was ... it was as if someone else were sneaking and not me!"

Brother Hal, who was sitting nearby, stood up quickly. "Can you remember the poem again, Sister? Wait there, I'll go and get quill and parchment. It is my duty as Recorder to write it all down."

Nasturtium shook her head. "Strange, I can't remember a single word. I'm afraid the whole thing has gone clear out of my head. How odd! It's as if some other creature was in charge of my tongue, and my mind too!"

Friar Bellows came panting up. He was waving a ladle. "Come on, you lot. Nameday tomorrow. The food isn't going to prepare itself, y'know. Up on your paws and look busy now!"

There were a few groans, but most of the helpers went willingly. Dingeye and Thura were among the back stragglers.

"Huh, I wish we c'd train those pots V pans to scrub 'emselves. Hup there, cauldron, jump in the sink and give yerself a good scourin' now!"

Salamandastron

45

"Or maybe we could get that Martin spirit to wash a few. Owch!"

Dingeye had not realized Thrugg was still within hearing range. ^_

Earlier that morning a somber pall hung over the fortress of Salamandastron. Mara lay abed for as long as she could before rising to make her way down to the dining hall. Urthstripe sat in his large chair with Sergeant Sapwood and Big Oxeye on either side of him. Mara sidled in and took a seat at the far end of the big table next to Pikkle; Klitch and Goffa sat on her other side. Usually there would be lots of good-natured joking and chatter over the plain fare, but today breakfast was a dismal affair; silence hung broodingly over the assembly.

Pikkle passed Mara a bowl of wild oatmeal porridge and a beaker of sage tea, keeping his voice to a whisper as he said, "Jolly lot, aren't they, wot? I say, old gel, did you get an awful tickin' off from Lord Urthstripe last night?"

Mara's appetite had deserted her. She dabbed at the porridge with a crust of ryebread. "Oh, it was much the same as usual. One word led to another and I ran off to bed in the end because I couldn't stick it."

Klitch leaned over, the sly blue eyes he had inherited from his father Ferahgo now radiating candor and sympathy. "You didn't get into trouble because of Goffa and me, did you?"

The young badger maid shrugged. "It was nothing to do with you, Klitch. I just get tired of being pushed and bossed

46

Scdamandas tron

47

like a silly infant around here."

"Did you father shout at you?" Goffa refilled his bowl from a nearby serving dish.

Pikkie wiped his bowl with ryebread. "He's not her father."

Klitch stole a quick glance up the table at Urthstripe. "Then why does Mara have to do as he says? I wouldn't, me and Goffa do as we pleasenobeast gives us orders!"

Urthstripe sat looking at his untouched breakfast. Mara had not even acknowledged him this morning. One part of him longed to be friends with her, but the other half detested what he was seeing: a fine young badger maid, gossiping with a ferret and a weasel as if they were lifelong friends. The badger Lord caught the weasel stealing a glance at him. The creature had light blue eyes, shining as honest as a newborn infant. Some faraway faint memory was struggling to surface within Urthstripe's brain, but then it was wiped away as Oxeye nudged him and nodded down the table.

"That chap could charm the bally birds out of the trees with his baby-blue peepers. Still, I'd hate ter be the jolly old bird that fell into his claws. What d'you say, M'lud?"

A deep growl issued from Urthstripe's cavernous chest. "I once knew a searat who could sing like a lark, beautiful ballads. He used to sing to his victims as he cut them up. Vermin are vermin, no matter whatI've learned that much. Sap-wood, I cannot stand the sight of those two at my table any longer. Give them provisions and get them clear of my mountain. I'll feel easier when they've gone!"

The hare Sergeant stood up and threw a salute. "Yes, sir. I'll hescort 'em ter the door pers'nally."

The forty odd hares who lived at Salamandastron watched in silence as Sapwood made his way down the table. He nodded to Mara and Pikkle before turning to Klitch and Goffa. "Hare you finished with your vittles, you two?"

Klitch sniggered as he did an impression of the Sergeant's voice. "Yes, we have, hactually!"

The hare kept his face impassive and his voice level. "Right ho, then if you'd hallow me to show you out."