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Doogy gave him a jaundiced glance. “Do ye not recall Log a Log Togey tellin’ ye he was goin’ tae fetch help when ye parted company? Ye’ve got some explainin’ tae do, laddie. The Cap’n an’ Wonwill had no sooner put paid tae the last vermin when who comes chargin’ oot o’ the trees but Togey an’ tenscore o’ Guosim, armed tae the teeth an’ roarin’ blood’n’slaughter! Mind, that was nothin’ compared tae auld Friar Glisum when he saw he had two hunnerd more mouths tae feed fer a few days. So that’s mah bad news. Now, have ye got any good news fer me?”

Tam winced as Doogy patted his injured paw absently. “Good news, aye. Did ye hear I got my claymore back, an’ Araltum’s Royal Banner, too? Skipper found a hole in the streambank where that thievin’ volerobber had hidden ’em!”

Doogy grinned. “So ah heard. As a matter o’ fact, ah talked the good Sister Armel intae givin’ me yore claymore, seein’ as how ye ruined mah claymore wi’ yon hardsteel sword ye were carryin’. Ah thought ’twas only fair!”

Tam sat up, outraged, but Armel pushed him back down before explaining herself. “I was only acting for the best, Mister MacBurl. Besides, what would you be needing two swords for?”

Tam spluttered, “But one of ’em belongs to Redwall. It’s Martin’s sword, not mine!”

The Infirmary Sister shrugged. “Well, it’s always there, should you need to defend Redwall against foebeasts. Oh, I sewed the tears in your banner and I washed and pressed it. I must say it looks a bit more acceptable now.”

Tam, however, was not listening to Armel. He was raving on at Doogy Plumm. “Hah, some mate you are! Yore worse’n that Yoofus Lightpaw, wheedlin’ my best claymore off an innocent Infirmary Sister. Shame on ye! There’s nobeast more disgustin’ than a claymore thief. Huh, I’d best hide my dirk an’ Sgian Dhu before ye take a fancy t’them, too!”

Armel waved her paws sternly. “Enough, I’ve heard enough! Clear this room so that my patient can get some rest. Out you go, Mister Plumm, and you, too, Father Abbot. Be off with you! And the rest of you hanging about that passage outside, have you no chores downstairs? Begone everybeast!”

Humble protested, “But I was just sitting here quietly!”

Tam winked at him. “I’d go if I were you, Father. She’s in one of her bossy moods. See how her chin sticks out?”

The pretty young squirrel tried not to smile. “One more word out of you, Mister MacBurl, and . . . !”

Tam scowled fiercely. “And you’ll what?”

She smiled sweetly. “And I’ll have Friar Glisum make us a nice tray of afternoon tea for two. So what do you think of that, Mister MacBurl, eh?”

Rakkety Tam MacBurl gave a deep sigh of satisfaction. “I think that’s a wonderful idea, Sister Armel!”

Epilogue

It is now fifteen seasons since Gulo the Savage was slain by my father. Fallen green leaves are turning to gold and brown, covering our orchard with a thick carpet, which is deliciously crisp underpaw. But what a beautiful summer it has been! Let me tell you of the trip I made, quite an adventure for a maid who has never strayed far from Redwall Abbey. What excitement!

Armel, my mother, finally persuaded Tam, my father, and my uncle, Doogy Plumm, to return the great banner to its owners. Father was willing, but Uncle Doogy did a lot of grumbling—“Och, ah’d let the auld fusspots stew in their own juice, an’ weep salty tears tae get their flag back!” Those were a few of his words.

But Mother became very bossy and had her way in the end. Dad laughs a lot when she gets like this. Soon we were on our journey—Dad, Mum, Uncle Doogy, Tergen and my mother’s dear friend, Aunt Brooky. I’d never imagined Mossflower Wood was so vast! But we were in no hurry. I was fascinated to see the campsite where my dad stole the sword of Martin back from the vermin. Oh, incidentally, Old Abbot Humble let us take the sword along in case it was needed. Uncle Doogy insisted that I wear the sword—from the day I took my first steps, he and my dad were the ones who taught me the ways of the blades. I’m told I used to wield the little Sgian Dhu; I learned to fence with it. Then, as I grew taller, I was given the dirk to use; then, finally, at the end of my eleventh season, I could use two swords—either the blade of Martin or Uncle Doogy’s claymore (which my dad still claims is his).

Mother was slightly worried about me being the sword carrier, but I remember exactly what Uncle Doogy said to reassure her—“Och, cease frettin’, Armel. The wee maid’s a better swordbeast than mahself or her great lump of a daddy. Ah ken she’d draw rings aroond us wi’ one paw!”

Well, the first stream we came to, guess what happened? We were met by a fleet of logboats! I’ve got another uncle now, a fine old fat, bearded shrew everyone calls Log a Log Togey. I like him! He told me I’d make a good Guosim, and let me steer his big logboat. Have you ever been on a stream for a few days? Sailing along peaceful, shaded waterways, letting your paw run through the water. Especially getting to sleep aboard under a canopy, lulled by the murmuring current. . . . It’s a dream! And the delicious Guosim food, what a treat!

But we did have some hair-raising moments fighting our way up a stretch of very rough rapids. Finally, though, the water calmed, and on the fourth day we said good-bye to the shrews. They were sorry to see us go, but they looked relieved to be rid of Tergen. I think shrews are not great lovers of fierce goshawks.

Not far from the stream was an abode where we spent another few, very happy days. The dwelling was the home of Yoofus Lightpaw and his wife Didjety. What a jolly pair! I even saw the famous Walking Stone, though at first I thought Rockbottom was a pawstool (silly me)! What an extraordinary creature little Rockbottom is, and what fun his owners are. On the first night we were there, Didjety made us a huge batch of her famous sausage rolls. (I say “famous,” because she gave the recipe to Friar Glisum, and now they are the favourite food of Redwall Dibbuns—and most elders, too.) I never laughed so much in my life, and neither did Aunt Brooky (and she’s laughed a lot in her life, I can tell you). We had a feast, a real celebration: Didjety sang us funny songs and did comical dances, Yoofus told us hilarious tales of his thieving adventures and Rockbottom sat on my lap all evening.

On the morning we were going, the great banner and Uncle Doogy’s claymore were missing. My Mum and Mrs. Lightpaw gave poor Yoofus such a scolding that he returned them immediately, saying, “Ah sure, I was only havin’ a liddle borrow of the grand flag an’ the big ould sword. Wasn’t I now, Rock, me ould icecake?” And do you know what? Rockbottom nodded and smiled, I’ll swear he did. Really, the nerve of those two!

Early one sunny morning, we crossed some heathlands, climbed a lot of dunes and came to some lovely tree groves. Beyond them I could see the sea, a first-time experience and a real treat for me.

Uncle Doogy began grumbling again. “Och, ah’d as soon fling this flag intae the waves than return it tae those two snooty-nosed wee braggarts!”

For a moment I thought my dad was going to do it, but Mum took Uncle Doogy by the ear and wagged a paw at them both. “If either of you two rogues even dare, we’ll chuck you in straight after it. Right, Brooky?”

Auntie Brooky enjoys anything like that. “Whoooohooohooohaha! Let’s do it, Armel. Hahahahaaa!” See what I mean?

We sat down and had lunch on the fringes of the trees. Uncle Doogy whispered to Tergen, who flew off into the groves. (The high-strung bird has been flying since the autumn following the death of Gulo the Savage.) No sooner had we finished eating than we heard a lot of scurrying and squealing from within the trees. Out tumbled a score of squirrels. Our fierce goshawk came swooping behind them. As they huddled in a terrified mass, Tergen stood over them.