Brian Jacques - Martin the Warrior [Redwall 6]

"Amid the deep white winter snow,

Sleeps Mossflow'r until spring,

While snug in Cavern Hole below,

All Redwall's creatures sing.

Old autumn gave us plenty,

Our harvest did not fail,

No plate or jug is empty,

There's good October ale."

Three young creatures, the otter twins Bagg and Runn, accompanied by Grubb, their molefriend, hauled a small beech log between them along the path to Redwall Abbey. The intrepid trio kept stopping to clear away the snowdrift building up in front of the log as they dragged it through the snow. Singing lustily, they pelted each other with snowballs, their breath rising in white plumes as they ran around the beech log.

"Yaow! You'm a drefful villyun, Baggo, leggo oi!" "Hahah! I'll save you, Grubb. Take that!" "Missed me! You couldn't hit the Abbey gate if you was stooden in front of it, Runn!"

"Ho, couldn't I then? Well, 'ave some of this, mate!"

The young otter flung the snowball, Bagg ducked. Unaware that two travellers were coming along the path from the north, they hurled snowballs wildly at each

other.

"Oof! Great seasons, go easy there!"

One of the travellers, a large sturdy hedgehog, had been struck by a snowball. He wiped snow from his snout with the edge of his cloak.

The three young ones stopped throwing and hung their heads sheepishly. Grubb took it on himself to apologize.

"Hurr, us'ns tumble sorry, zurr. Be you'm 'urted?"

The hedgehog's travelling companion, a very pretty mousemaid, stifled laughter at the sight of the three delinquent snowballers.

"Oh, I'm sure Bultip will live. He's had worse injuries."

Grinning, the big hedgehog nodded. "I have indeed, mates. Come on, I'll help you with your log. Where are you bound with it?"

Bagg curved his mittened paw as he pointed. "Jus' round that bend, sir, to Redwall Abbey. We live there." Bultip nodded at his companion as he took the tow rope in strong paws. "I told you we'd find the Abbey on this path. Right, you three terrors, sit up on the log and I'll give you a ride. You too, Aubretia, rest your footpaws."

There was little doubt the hedgehog was a mighty beast. Tossing the rope across his shoulder, he trudged off through the snow, hauling the log and its passengers behind with no trace of effort.

Redwall Abbey stood backed by the vastness of Mossflower Woods, its front facing the path and open flatlands to the west. Capped with snow, the beautiful building resembled a vast frosted cake, walls, battlements, belltower and Abbey fringed with icicles hanging over its red sandstone towers and turrets.

Abbot Saxtus folded his paws into wide habit sleeves, gazing up at the main building. Beside him old Simeon the blind herbalist leaned on a hawthorn stick, sniffing the cold air.

"Looks beautiful, doesn't it, Saxtus?"

Knowing his friend's uncanny knack of sensing every movement, the Abbot nodded. "Remember what our old friend Abbot Bernard said before he passed on: No matter what the season, Redwall always looks marvellous."

Simeon sniffed the air again and held up a paw. "Somebeast is coming this way. One, maybe two, it's hard to tell."

They stood out on the path by the open main gates. Saxtus watched until he saw the party approaching.

"I might have known. It's Bagg, Runn and Grubb. They've brought company, two travellers."

Simeon tapped his stick on the snow eagerly. "Oh good, we'll have some fresh tales in Cavern Hole tonight!"

Old Friar Cockleburr hurried along with the preparations for a Midwinter Mossflower Feast, helped by his assistant, Alder. Both mice worked furiously, putting the finishing touches to dishes as they called out orders to the Redwallers on kitchen duty.

"Brush more honey on that pie if you want a good shiny crust!"

"Pass those chopped nuts and greensap milk, please."

"Quick, pull those pasties from the oven before they're too brown!"

"Durry Quill, will you stop loading hotroot pepper into that soup!"

"Ohhh, leave me be, soup's gotter be 'ot t'be any good."

Paws on hips, Cockleburr glared at the hedgehog. "I wish you'd go back to your cellars and see to the drinks with your Uncle Gabriel. Go on, be off with you!"

Durry popped a candied chestnut into his mouth and spoke round it. "Drinks're all ready, 'tober ale, elderberry wine, strawb'rry cordial an' fizzy dannelion cup nowt to do in cellar. Old Nuncle Gabe, he's takin' a nap afore feastin', restin' 'is stummick."

Aubretia and Bultip had been shown round the Abbey. They gaped and marvelled at the great structure, expressing their admiration for it at every opportunity. Later they had been shown to their rooms by a Foremole. Now rested, washed and garbed in warm old green habits, they came down to the place called Cavern Hole to attend the feast.

Aubretia smiled at the gallant young male mice who flocked about her, each one trying to outdo the other as they saw to every need of the pretty stranger in their midst.

"Sit here, Miss Aubretia, next to me."

"No, sit here, it's more comfortable. Here's a cushion."

"You must have travelled far. Let me get you some food."

"Perhaps you'd like to try some elderberry wine. It'll take the chill of your long journey away, Miss Aubretia." Abbot Saxtus looked over the top of his spectacles, wagging a paw. "So much help for one traveller! Aubretia, come and sit here with Bultip and Simeon. Here, I'll push up a bit so you'll be next to me. Why shouldn't a venerable old Abbot have the pleasure of a pretty mousemaid's company?"

Aubretia curtsied and smiled. "Why not indeed, Father Abbot!"

Bultip had a massive appetite. Scarcely had grace been said when he was munching away, sampling this and that as he allowed old Gabe Quill to fill his tankard. "Redwall October ale, finest in Mossflower.

Try it with some nutbread an' yellow sage cheese, young 'og."

Aubretia sipped from her beaker and shuddered. "Whoo! Taste's lovely, full of tiny bubbles too. What is it?"

Simeon pushed a large confection toward her. "It's called fizzy dandelion cup. Very nice with snowcream pudding and damsons fill your plate. My nose told me today when we met that you are a healer.

Am I right?"

Aubretia looked surprised at the blind mouse's keen perception.

"Yes, you're right Simeon. I am a healer."

Simeon reached out and took hold of Bultip's hefty paw. "And you, sir, I don't think you are a healer somehow."

"I'm no healer," the stout hedgehog chuckled, "just a travellin'

companion protectin' Aubretia."

The blind herbalist felt the strength of Bultip's paw as he flexed it.

"I imagine you do it very well. Woe betide the beast who stands in the way of this paw!"

Laughter and merry chatter rose to the rafters of the big room beneath the Abbey. There was warmth there, good companionship and good humour. Dishes went this way and that from paw to paw, snowcream pudding, hot fruit pies, colorful trifles, tasty pasties, steaming soup, new bread with shiny golden crusts, old cheeses studded with dandelion, acorn and celery. Sugared plums and honeyed pears vied for place with winter salads and vegetable flans.

Aubretia and Bultip joined in the merriment, enjoyed the food and basked in the legendary hospitality of Redwall Abbey.

It was late night. Sleepy little ones had been carried off to their dormitory beds and fresh torches placed in the wall sconces. Bultip nibbled on his fourth pastie. Draining a tankard of October ale, he looked about at the still chattering Redwallers bantering with one another across the tables.

"Does nobeast ever sleep in this place, Simeon?" The herbalist shrugged. "Are you tired, friend?" Bultip blew on a bowl of hot soup.