Brian Jacques - Redwall #07 - Mariel of Redwall

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Mellus pounced! The mousemaid was pinioned by two large badger paws, the rope dangling uselessly at her side as Mother Mellus whispered in her ear, "Gotcha, missy! Now let's see if soap and water and a dress will civilize you, you little savage."

Saxtus and Dandin fell about laughing as Mother Mellus carried off a kicking, yelling Storm.

"Yah, lemmego! Paws off, you great lump of an Abbeydog. Fight fair like a warrior, you big stripy trickster. Lemmego. Yaaaaaahhhh. Grrr!"

Tarquin joined them, tinkling away on his harolina. "Oh, corks! Old Mellus has her work cut out there, no mistake. Well then, you chaps Dandin and Saxtus, isn't it? Allow me to introduce myself, Tarquin L. Woodsorrel at y'service. I remember Redwall Abbey quite fondly y'know. Of course, I was only a little sprog last time I was here. D'y'know, I think a chap could do a lot worse than stop here an' become the jolly old resident hare, wot?"

The two young mice immediately took to the garrulous Tarquin. Dandin especially admired the harolina and the skillful way the hare played it.

"That's a beautiful instrument, Mr. Tarquin. I play the flutesee, this is a whistle that belonged to my ancestor. Do you know 'Frog in the Rushes' or 'Otter Hornpipe'? I like 'Fieldmouse Frolic' myself."

In a very short while, young Redwallers had gathered round Dandin and Tarquin, clapping their paws, hopping and dancing as the pair played merrily, complementing each other with instrumental harmonies.

oo

Tarquin's words proved true; Storm was no easy mousemaid to deal with, as Mother Mellus, Sister Sage and Sister Serena soon found out.

"Garrr! Sputch! Gerrat soap out of me face, you murderers!"

Mellus held Storm firmly by the scruff of her neck as she kicked and lashed about in the tub. Sage and Serena

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battled gallantly with soap and loofah as bathwater splashed and sprayed all over them and the infirmary floor. Mellus ducked Storm's head under the warm sudsy water, hauling her up for Sister Sage to scrub away at the mousemaid's neck.

"Good golly! You could grow a crop in the muck we're getting off you, missy. Here, give me the soap, Serena. Go and get another bucket of water."

"Arragh! This is worse'n bein' drowned at sea. Grrrmmmfff! Lemmego!"

"Be still, you young rip. I'm soaked to the hide here. Keep her away from that Gullwhacky rope thing, Sage, or she'll cause havoc!"

"Whooshplut! Just lemme get me paws on my rope. I'll show you three torturers ..."

Slipping and sploshing, the three battled furiously

with slippery Storm.

oo

Abbot Bernard and Simeon passed the infirmary door on their way to Cavern Hole.

"My stars, Simeon, it sounds like a fully fledged massacre in there."

"Well guessed, Bernard. You're not far wrong!"

"Still, who knows, young Storm Gullwhacker may prove a clean and valuable member of our little community."

"Yes, clean at least when Mellus, Sage and Serena have finished with her. What about the other one, the hare?"

"Oh, you mean Tarquin. He's to be our first resident hare. He brought a scroll with him from Lord Rawnblade, the Master of Salamandastron. Here, I'll read it to you. It says, 'To Abbot Bernard of Redwall, from Rawnblade Protector of the Shores. It comes to my mind that the ties between your Abbey and my mountain should be strengthened, therefore I send this hare, Tarquin L. Woodsorrel, to you. He is frivolous, a glutton, lovesick and prone to composing dreadful ballads;

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added to this he has an odd sense of humor, a strange idea of dress and is disruptive with other hares. Be that as it may, he is a fearless fighter, an excellent scout and totally honest. I hope you will find his services satisfactory. Give my good wishes to Mellus and all the good creatures at Redwall. May the seasons be kind and bring you peace with long prosperity. Rawnblade Widestripe, Lord of Salamandastron.' There, what d'you think of that for a reference, Simeon?"

The blind herbalist gathered up his habit for the stairs ahead. "At least Rawnblade is truthful. The hare has his faults, but he also has good features. The badger Lord would not send him to us if there was not something in his clever mind. Maybe he fears the approach of trouble and has decided that we need a link with Salamandastron. I like the sound of this Tarquin L. Woodsorrel. Maybe Rawnblade's loss will turn out to be Redwall's gain."

"I hope you are right, my friend. Your intuition has

never let us down."

oo

Early evening found Storm Gullwhacker being propelled forcibly out of the main Abbey doors to mingle with the other young creatures of Redwall. She fought halfheartedly as Mellus shooed her out.

"There now, go and play. My my, you look very pretty now, Storm."

"Pretty? What's that supposed to mean? I feel stupid with this dress on and half the hide scrubbed from me. Couldn't I wear my old burlap smock. Please?"

"What? That scruffy old thing? Certainly not, child. I told Sister Sage to burn it."

"Where's my Gullwhacker? You haven't burnt that too, have you?"

"No, don't worry, Storm. We gave it a good scrub in what was left of your bathwater, and it's hanging out of the infirmary windowr to dry. You can have it back tomorrow. Now play outside with the young ones, but

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don't get yourself all messed up again. It's nearly time for the Abbot's feast."

Dandin could hardly believe his eyes. Was this pretty mousemaid in the light green linen habit the frowsy-looking terror he had encountered earlier that day? It seemed hardly possible. He held out his paw to her.

"Come on, Storm. I'll take you round to the orchard. You can sit between me and Saxtus at the Abbot's Jubilee feast tonight."

"What's an Abbot's Jubilee feast?"

"Listen, do you like singing, dancing and as much of the very best food and drink as you can swallow?"

"Yes. Is that what it's all about?"

"You'll soon find out. Come on, let's run. There's Durry Quillwe'll race him."

The two young mice dashed off across the lengthening shadows of the Abbey lawn as the birds trilled their evensong to the setting sun.

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11

Rawnblade Widestripe's massive form dwarfed the hares who stood in front of him. The blood of many Salamandastron badger Lords flowed in his veins, and he seemed to fit perfectly into the vast rocky hall of the mountain, seated on his throne with the huge broadsword Verminfate resting lightly in his hefty paw. The wise brown eyes partially closed as he digested the information from the returning hares of his long patrols. Torches flickered in rockwall sconces of the roughly hewn hall, blending with dying rays of the sun as its fiery orb sank into the western seaward horizon. Silence would follow each report until Rawnblade questioned his scouts.

"So, you sent this mousemaid Storm Gullwhacker with Pakatugg to Redwall. A wise move, Clary. They may cross trails with Tarquin Woodsorrel; the Abbey will be a good place for them both. What news of my bell, Shorebuck?"

"None, Lord," a sandy-hued hare leaning upon his spear replied. "No creature we spoke with knows where the great bell may be."

Rawnblade sighed, resting his chin on the sword handle. "Hmmm, three seasons late and nobeast knows the whereabouts of Joseph or the bell. Searats have the

answer, I know it. Only time will tell. Fleetleg, any more about the ship from the northwest?"

A tall, saturnine hare stood forward. "We sighted her earlier this evening, Lord. She was sailing too far off to be certain, but Longeyes says that it could be the Darkqueen."

Rawnblade sat up straight. "Are you sure of this, Longeyes?"

The hare called Longeyes lounged at the window, scanning the horizon. He turned to address Rawnblade.

"I'm practically certain, Lord. My eyes see farther than others. It looked to me like Darkqueen; no other ship in Gabool's fleet has red sails. If she had cut in closer to land, I would have been able to tell you more, but she tacked off windward and traveled north by east."