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Abbess Vale watched the trout flap its tail on the surface, setting up ripples over the still pondwater. "What's your opinion of those two stoats? Can we trust them to behave properly?"

"Oh, you mean Dingeye an' Thura. They'm just a silly ol' pair o' stoats. I wouldn't worry about 'em, Vale."

The Abbess steered her friend around the pond edge. "I hope you're right, Faith."

A lantern was lit in the first-floor dormitory. Brother Holly-berry, Sister Nasturtium and Thrugann the otter sat together on the side of a bed. Grouped around them on the floor the young ones sat, wrapped in their blankets, eating thick slices of new Abbeybread spread with cornflower butter and elderberry jam and sipping from beakers of hot dandelion cordial. Samkim and Arula had brought the two stoats with them.

"Gwaw! This jam's luvverly," Thura commented. "I could eat ten o' these, easily!"

Arula held up a paw. "Thurr be a-storytellen, 'ushed naow."

Thura took a sip of hot cordial and scorched his tongue. "Yowch! That's 'ot, mucker. Wot's a-story-tellen?"

Dingeye flicked him on the end of his nose. "Shut up,

bottlebrain. It's a story. I like stories."

Brother Hollyberry leaned forward, scanning the eager young faces as he drew out his voice in a deep whisper. "Whooooo waaaants a storeeeeeeee?"

The young ones giggled and hugged each other excitedly. They elongated their voices as they chanted back, "Weeee waaaant a storeeeeee pleeeeeeease!"

The old Infirmary keeper took a sip of his drink and started.

"Old travelers tell, at the midnight bell, When the nightdark covers all, Mid the falling snow, when the cold winds blow, Of the ghost that walks Redwall..."

A baby mole emitted a gruff squeak and hid trembling beneath his blanket. "Burrhoo, oi be gurtly afeared o' goast-ers!"

A small fat otter joined him. "I'm afeared too. 'Old on ter me, matey. They won't get us'ns!"

When silence had been restored, Hollyberry continued:

"Yes, the ghost that haunts the stairways goes slowly

on his beat,

Moaning low in the moonlight's glow. 'Give me young ones to eat!' "

Several young mice squealed and dived beneath the bed, and Thura's beaker rattled nervously against his teeth as he tried to drink some cordial. "I'm g-g-g-glad I ain't a young un, mucker!"

Dingeye whacked him soundly on the head. "Belt up an' lissen frogsbum!"

The storyteller continued his grisly tale.

"Then one night as the lightning was flashing And the thunder was crashing out, boomz\ The beastly phantom came a-haunting Into this very room.

56 Brian Jacques

When up stood a young one, pale as the ghost.

And to the spirit said, 'How dare you moan round here at night

And wake me from my bed!'

The ghost sprang at him with a cry: 'Whoohoo I'll eat you whole!'

The pale mouse laughed as he replied, 'You'll need a great big bowl!

For I am Martin the Warrior,

The spirit of Redwall,

Whilst I protect this Abbey,

You'll eat nobeast at all!' "

The mice beneath the bed raised a cheer at the name of their hero. "Hooray! Good old Martin. What did he do, Brother?"

Hollyberry stood, drawing a long ladle from his habit sleeve.

"Then Martin drew his trusty sword And chopped that ghost apart. He sliced his nose, he carved his ears, He whacked its legs and head, He chopped its claws, he hacked its jaws, Then to the ghost he said: 'Be sure to brush up all your bits, Goodnight, I'm off to bed!' "

Applause and relieved laughter greeted the fitting end of the ghost of Redwall. Creatures were settling down to await the next story when Thrugann mischievously tossed a crust of jam-smeared bread into Dingeye's lap and whooped, "Oo dear, look out, it's the ghost's tail. Oohoo!"

The panic-stricken stoat bowled Thura and Arula tip over tail as he leapt up, startled. It was some time before the laughter subsided and order was restored. Dingeye brushed the floor with his paws, laughing nervously as he searched.

Saiamandastron

57

"Haha, that weren't no ghost's tail at all, haha, it was a trick."

Thura had scoffed the crust. He clipped Dingeye's ears smartly. "Of course it was the ghost's tail, noddle'ead. It's vanished, ain't it? On'y a real ghost tail could vanish!"

Dingeye stared at the empty floor and shuddered. "Never shoulda come t' this Redhall place, mucker!"

Suddenly Sister Nasturtium's clear voice cut across them. She was staring at the wall and reciting:

"When night meets day, stand clear away, Beware the Abbey then. Stay close beside the rampart wall, Await the moment when The flame of storm will strike my blade To aid the badger Lord, And bring back to Redwall one day A guardian and a sword."

In the hush that followed, Brother Hollyberry shook the sleeve of Nasturtium, who was sitting staring, as if in a trance. "Sister, what is it? Are you all right?"

She blinked and looked about her. "Oh dear, have I done it again? Goodness only knows what I've been saying. Was it something dreadful?"

Thrugann placed a protective paw about her shoulders. "No, no, 'twas only some o!' poetry, Sisternothin' for you to get upset over. You look tired. Come on, it's bed for you. In fact, it's bed for all you young uns too, otherwise you'll sleep right through Nameday tomorrow an' miss it!"

That night Samkim fell immediately into a deep sleep and dreamed a strange dream. In the dream he was walking into Great Hall. He went up to the huge tapestry hanging from the wall. The likeness of Martin the Warrior seemed to stand out from the rest of the skillful weave; he was clad in his armor, holding his sword lightly, and a friendly smile lit up his brave features. Without warning he tossed the sword. It twirled once

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Brian Jacques

in the air and sped from the tapestry, burying its point in a crack between the stones at Samkim's side. The young squirrel felt no fear. Without knowing why, he withdrew the sword from the floor and held it out, offering it back to the Warrior of Redwall. Martin took it. Though his lips did not move, Samkim could hear his voice:

"Squirrel, mouseit makes no difference, you are a Red-waller, Samkim. Be brave and courageous, true to your friends. One day you will return my sword again and give this Abbey another guardian. Beware the vermin, seek out the White One."

Thrugg crept up from the kitchens. Sleep did not come easily to the burly otter, particularly with the knowledge that there was a huge pot of shrimp and bulrush soup, flavored with watercress and hotroot pepper, simmering gently on the embers of the kitchen fire. Thrugg could not rest until he had sampled it. Slipping down to the kitchen in his voluminous white nightshirt, the big otter cut a curious figure. He consumed two bowls of his favorite soup, smacked his lips, yawned and added more hotroot pepper to the pot before stealing off back to his bed. Crossing Great Hall he was surprised to see Samkim. The young squirrel stood illuminated by a shaft of moonlight in front of the tapestry. Thrugg had seen sleepwalkers before and he knew what to do. Strolling up, he lifted Samkim easily in his strong paws.

The young squirrel opened his eyes and stared at Thrugg. "Are you the White One?"

Thrugg glanced at his long white nightshirt and grinned. "Aye, that's me matey, the White Un."