Brian Jacques - Redwall #07 - Mariel of Redwall

The Abbot had ordered a special supper in honor of the hares, Flagg offering to take Thyme's watch with the longbow. Cavern Hole was the venue, tables were laid around the walls with a splendid running buffet spread upon them. One thing the hares did not lack was appetite. The splendid fare offered by the famous Redwallers made the Salamandastron food seem spar-tan in comparison. Colonel Clary found himself ushered around, plate in paw, by Sister Serena.

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"Colonel, perhaps you would like to try some of this deeper 'n' ever pie?"

"Deeper 'n' wot, marm? Looks delicious, I must say. Jolly strange name."

"Yes, it's a great favorite of the moles, you know-full of turnip 'n' tater 'n' beetroot, to use the mole

language."

"I say, I rather like this red gravy stuff, very spicy!"

"Oh, that's otters' hotroot sauce. You know what they say?"

"No, marm. What do they say?"

Serena chuckled and adopted her otter voice. "Ain't nothin' 'otter for an otter!"

Brigadier Thyme was being entertained by Gabriel Quill. The hedgehog was pointing out to him the finer nuances of food with drink.

"Now lookit this, Brig, a nice sparkly strawberry cordial. You might think it'd go well with yonder damson shortcrust an' cream."

"Well, what d'you think, Gabe old scout? Does it?"

"Not on your aunty's washtub, it don't. 'Ere, you try a beaker of my cowslip an' parsley comfort wi' that damson shortcrust. Go on."

"Mmm, absolutely top-hole, old thing. My, it does make a difference. I say, what's that jolly brown stuff in the tankards?"

"Good October ale. Redwall's famous fer it, an' I'm the beast as brews it. Now, you want to sample some o' that with cheese an' mushroom pastiethat'd make yer tail curl a bit."

"Rather. I've always fancied m'self with a curly tail. Hi, Rosie, how are you gettin' on with the jolly old nosebag, wot?"

Hon Rosie waved a ladleful of summercream dip. "Whoohahahahooh! Look at these Dibbuns chaps doin' an impression of us, Thyme. Very droll. They're an absolute hoot. Whoohahahahooh!"

Bagg, Runn and Grubb had decided to take on newr

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roles as hares carrying longbows. They strutted about with their bows and arrows, mimicking all the mannerisms of Clary and his long patrol.

"I say, ol' boy, ol' thing, ol' top, pip pip an' all that!"

"Hurrhurr, wotwotwot? Us'n's gotten gurt bows 'n' arrers, ol' bean. You'm jolly well watch owt iffen you'm one o' they searattens, boi okey!"

"Rather, ol' scout. Wot an 'oot. Whoohoohoohoo!"

Thyme twirled his whiskers in a very offpaw manner. "Hmm, exceedingly comical, I'm sure." He seated himself next to a mole who was munching away at a large crusty pie and nodded at the fellow. "Pie looks jolly nice. What's in it?"

The mole, who was named Burgo, turned full face to the hare. "Woild garleck, zurr!"

Brigadier Thyme nearly fell off the bench as the mole's breath hit him. "Good grief, what a dreadful pong!"

Burgo nodded. "Tumble, baint et. Oi dearly loiks the taste, but oi can't aboid the smell moiself, zurr."

Treerose, the pretty young squirrel, sidled up to Rufe Brush. "Oh, Rufe, I've baked you a special cake of nutbread and I've iced it too, with clover honey."

Rufe stood on one paw then the other, his voice a mumble. "Oh er, very nice er, thank you er, Treerose, er, er."

Treerose blushed and smiled winningly. At last she was getting through to the strong silent Rufe. "Shall we take it out into the orchard and share it, Rufey Woofy?"

Rufe straightened up and planked the cake back into her paws. "Take it where y'like with Rufey Woofy. My name's Rufe Brush an' I'm due back on the walls for sentry duty!"

He stalked off, leaving Treerose holding the cake. She stamped her paw petulantly, her lip beginning to quiver. Grubb slipped in and took the cake from her.

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"Yurr, doant 'ee cry, missy. Iffen Rufe doant like they ol' cake, oi'll scoff et, of gel, wotwot, hurr hurr!"

oo

Mother Mellus sat with Simeon and the Abbot. Clary had joined them and was reassuring the Abbot.

"Not to worry, Father. We're well able for searats. If they bother Redwall again, we'll be ready for 'em. Though I don't think we're in any immediate danger from the blaggards."

"Couldn't we go out after them, Colonel Clary?"

The hare turned to Mellus, his eyebrows raised. "Marm, go after them?"

"Actually it's not the searats I'm thinking of, it's the oarslaves. It's pitiful reallywhat sort of a life must those poor creatures lead as slaves of the filthy searats. Couldn't we, I mean you, arrange to sort of release them and bring them back here?"

"Now now, Mellus," Abbot Bernard interrupted the badger. "Colonel Clary and his patrol have been more than kind to us already, driving the searats off. I'm sure they have other business at Salamandastron."

"Not at all, Father. Lord Rawnblade sent us up to Mossflower to help in any way we can against searats. We'd be failin' in our duty if we refused you anything, especially a request from another badger."

Mellus smiled gratefully. "You'll do it then, Colonel?"

"Well, marm, can't promise anythin', you understand, but I'll have a word with my troops and let you know."

Mellus knew that Clary was going to grant her request; still, that did not stop her reinforcing her plea.

"Every time I think of those twenty very young slaves, the hunger, beatings and hardship they must be enduringit's a wonder they're not lying out there in Mossflower dead from it all. Oh, there's your friend the squirrel too; the searats have taken him captive."

"Tcha! Old Pakatugg y'meanthat old reprobate

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prob'ly got himself captured through his own greed, doncha know. He's an unspeakable rogue really, sell his mother for two acorns and a loaf. Righty-ho, marm, you've made your point. Let me go and work out a plan with Thyme an' Rosie. We're pretty good at wheezes when we put our heads together."

Mellus sighed heavily and shook her great striped head. "Let's hope you and your friends do come up with some good wheezes, Colonel. As for myself, my brain is too full of other things to think of wheezes. There's Mariel and Dandin, Tarquin, young Durry Quill too. They've gone off to face goodness knows what perils, questing for a bell, searching for a strange island, determined to slay Gabool the Searat. Where will it all end? I hope those youngsters are safe, wherever they are. Sometimes I wish that little mousemaid would have stayed as Storm Gullwhacker instead of finding out her real name was Mariel."

Clary halted his assault on a nearby vegetable flan. "Stap me, young Storm Gullwhacker, eh! So that's what became of her. Mariel, much nicer name for a pretty young gel, wot? Don't you fret, marm. That one's well able for anything. Three good comrades with her, y'say? Stap me! What more could she want? Makes a chap wish he was out there questin' with 'em."

Mellus was about to enlarge upon the dangers that faced Mariel and her friends when Clary moved on to make new friends and sample fresh delicacies.

Simeon turned in the badger's direction. "You really are a shameless coaxer at times, Mother Mellus."

She bristled slightly. "I was deliberately being shameless to help those little slaves who are in a shameful position, Simeon. What would you have me do? Sit safe here in Redwall Abbey and not bother about it at all?"

The blind herbalist spread his paws. "Apologies, apologies! I did not realize you felt so strongly about the slaves. Being blind, I cannot see them, but I suppose

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if I had my sight I'd shout for their rescue as loudly as you."

In the small hours between midnight and dawn the three hares stole silently through Mossflower toward the searat encampment, armed only with their lances. Clary stopped the other two a short distance from the glow of the enemy campfires.