Close to the north side of the Abbey building, a new construction was under way.
Astride the wooden scaffolding of a half-finished bell tower, young Dandin pounded doggedly away at the hollow beech log.
Thonkthonkthonkthonk!
Though he was a sturdily built little mouse, he felt himself driven aback by the blasting wind. Shaking rainwater from his eyes, he bent his head against the onslaught of the storm and continued stubbornly thwacking the log with two hefty yew clubs. Whenever Dandin raised his gaze slightly he could see the fringe of surrounding Mossflower Woods swaying and hissing, rustling and sighing, like a restless ocean.
"Dandin, come down, you'll catch your death up there!"
The young mouse peered over the scaffold, shielding his eyes against the deluge. Draped about with a clean worn-out floursack, Mother Mellus, the Redwall badger, stamped a huge paw upon the wet sward.
"D'you hear me, young mouse? I said down, this instant!"
Dandin blew rainwater from his whiskers, smiling
roguishly he called back, "Right this instant, marm, just like you say."
Without a backward glance Dandin threw himself from the tower and came plunging earthward to the accompaniment of the badger's startled growls. Not more than a fraction from the ground, he stopped falling and swung there, dangling by a strong vinerope harnessed about his waist. Dandin touched his nose with a wet paw.
"Came as quick as I could, marm ..."
A huge paw cuffed him roughly about the ears as Mother Mellus freed him from the encircling vinerope. Tucking him firmly in her elbow crook like a baby, she hurried in out of the rain, scolding Dandin as he complained loud and long.
"Put me down. I'm not a baby, I can walk ..."
"No, you're not a baby, you're a young pickle, d'you hear, and you should know better. Throwing yourself from a high tower like that! By the weasel's whiskers, you scared me out of ten seasons' growth!"
"I know what I'm doing; it was completely safe. Now will you put me down? I can stand on my own paws, you know ..."
"I'll put you down, you young rip. Next time I'll tan your hide so hard you won't be able to sit down until berrypicking. Just let me catch you jumping from high places like that again! What'd you do if the vines snapped, eh? Then we wouldn't have to dig a grave. You'd go so far into the earth when you hit the ground you'd be able to shake paws with the taproots of an oak. Be still, you little blaggard, or you'll feel the back of my paw. Young Abbey beasts these days, I don't know ..."
Scolding and arguing by turns, the young mouse and the old badger went inside the Abbey. Mother Mellus kicked the huge door shut behind her, leaving the storm to rage on outside.
Across Great Hall in the cozy surroundings of Cavern Hole, Abbot Bernard sat at head of table with Brother Simeon on his left paw and Foremole, the mole leader, on his right. Lanterns twinkled around the homely festive board, moles jostled shoulders with mice, hedgehogs sat next to otters and squirrels. The Abbey infants were allowed to sit at table with their elders; they were mainly woodland orphans gathered in by Mother Mellusbaby mice, small hedgehogs, a young squirrel and twin otters who had been brought by their parents. Little ones who were known as Dibbuns, they were sat on the table edges, facing the Brothers and Sisters of Redwall, the good mice who tended and cared for them.
Redwall fare was famous throughout the length and breadth of Mossflower. The Abbey grew all its own produce, and Redwall cooks were experts.
Foremole had his nose buried in a raspberry cream pudding, speaking in the rustic mole language through mouthfuls of his favorite sweet.
"Hohurr, baint nuthen loik rabserry pudden, no zurr. Oi could eat this yurr pudden till next moleday an' still ax furr more."
Gabe Quill, the hedgehog cellar-keeper, held a noggin of pear cordial up to a lantern, swishing it about as he inspected its bright amber color critically.
"Hmm, what d'you think of that for a touch of good cellar-keepin'?"
A big male otter named Flagg relieved Gabe of the drink and slurped it down in one gulp.
"Very nice, sir. Too good to swill cellars down with."
Gabe's face was a picture of indignation. "Why you 'orrible otter!"
Grubb, a baby mole, looked up at the general laughter. Wiping damson jam from his snout, he shook a small digging paw at Gabe Quill.
"You'm can 'ave an 'orrible owl, but otters is orful, buhurr aye."
10
Sister Serena, a rotund mouse who ran the Abbey infirmary and sickbay, wiped the jam from Grubb's whiskers and passed him a bowl of honeyed milk as she reprimanded him.
"Hush now, Grubb. Don't correct your elders."
Grubb sucked noisily at the milk, coming up with a cream-coated chin.
"Burr elders, Dandin says oi'm a liddle owd feller, that be maken oi an elder too. Betcher oi'm elder'n they, an' woiser may'ap."
At the head of the table the Abbot paused with a hot scone between paw and mouth. "The log pounding's stopped. Where is Dandin?"
Simeon took a sip from a foaming tankard of October ale. "In the kitchen. Can't you hear him? He's getting a drying-down, dry clothes and a good telling-off from Mellus."
The reprimands of Mellus and the protests of Dandin echoed loudly down the corridor between the kitchen and Cavern Hole.
"Keep still, your ears are saturated!"
"Owow! I won't have any ears left, the way you're going. Ouch! And I'm not wearing that great big habit, it belongs to fatty Brother John."
"Ooh, you ungrateful little scamp! How dare you call Brother John a fatty when he was good enough to lend you his spare robe! Hey, come here, come back, I say ... "
The smack of wet paws on the floor of the passage to Cavern Hole announced the culprit's escape. Dandin scampered in. He sat between Foremole and a squirrel named Rufe Brush. Grabbing a wedge of speckled nut-cheese, he jammed it between two slices of oat farl and began munching, pouring himself a beaker of cold strawberry cordial as he did. Flagg, the big otter, winked at Dandin and passed him a bowl of otters' hotroot sauce to dip his farl into.
11
"Aye aye, matey, run a-foul of Ma Mellus again, have 'ee? Quick an' dip yer bows nowyonder she comes."
Dandin ducked beneath the table just in time. Mother Mellus came bustling by, a clean linen bonnet tied about her great striped head. She nodded to the Abbot and took her place at the far end of table in a large armchair. Sitting two young mice on her lap and a baby mole on the arm of the chair, she soon forgot Dandin as she occupied herself feeding the Dibbuns, wiping chins and generally taking charge.
"Come on now, little one, eat up your woodland salad. Pudding later."
"No, don't lika sala', wanna pudden."
"Salad first, pudding later. You want to grow up big and strong like me, don't you?"
"No, wanna stay lickle an' eat pudden alia time!"
Abbot Bernard reached beneath the table and nudged Dandin.
"You can come out now, young mouse. Mother Mellus has her paws full with those Dibbuns. You did a fine job as log banger, Dandin, though there was no need to stay out in the storm so long."
Dandin sat up proudly and reached for a raspberry cream pudding.
"Thank you, Father Abbot. I stayed out until I knew all our Abbey creatures were inside, safe and dry. It's my job."