Martin sat there a long time, staring at the spot where sunlight ended in seagreen haze. From that beaded bag he took a stone, a rounded, medium-sized pebble, banded with various colors. The sort his father might have picked up from the beach, long ago, and brought back to the cave for his wife or little son. Martin held it awhile, until the stone took on warmth from his paws. Then he dropped it gently into the sea, watching it sink rapidly from sight into the depths.
"This is for you, my father, from Sayna, the wife you lost, and Martin, the son you strove to return to. But I have made good your promise, I returned to find you. Ranguvar Foeseeker, I know not if you had any family, but you have two friends forever. Luke the Warrior and Martin of Redwall. I will carry your memories in my heart."
Martin left the tall rock then, with the seas still booming in his ears as they broke against it. In all his life he never went back to that place. On the next ebb tide the skiff Honeysuckle sailed away from Tall Rocks, bound south for Redwall.
Skipper of Otters craned his head back, staring up into the pale blue summer morn. Bella the Badgermother of Redwall waited patiently, already knowing what her burly friend's question would be.
"Of course I can tell the squirrels to set up more scaffoldin' at the south end, marm, but why, pray?"
Bella spread her paws wide, as if the answer were obvious. "Because summer is nearly done and autumn will soon be here."
Sitting back on his powerful tail, the big otter shrugged. "Huh, 'fraid you've lost me, marm. What difference will that make? Autumn always follered summer, 'tis the way o' the seasons. What's that got t'do with scaffoldin'?"
Bella sat beside him, fiddling with the strings of her apron. "Mayhap 'tis just a foolish fancy of mine, Skip, but I'd like to see the south gable built right up as far as it will reach. According to Abbess Germaine and Martin's plans, that's where the weather vane will be, at the highest point."
Columbine approached them and sat down, unfolding a clean white linen cloth to reveal a scone still warm from the window ledge where it had lain to cool. "Taste that and tell me what you think."
Breaking it in two, she gave them a piece each. Bella inspected the pastry, sniffing it appreciatively.
"Smells wonderful. I can see chopped nuts and bits of crystallized honey in there, but tell me, why is the scone pink?"
"Because it's a Redwall Abbeyscone," the pretty mousewife explained. "I used wild cherry juice in the mix, to give it the color of our walls. I plan on making them in the shape of the sandstone blocks we've oised to build our Abbey with. D'you like them, Skip?"
The otter had bolted his piece in one great mouthful, and now he picked crumbs from his whiskers and nibbled them.
"Very tasty, Columbine marm, exceedin' nice! But yore goin' t'need a big oven to bake 'em big as sandstone blocks."
Columbine gave Skipper a playful shove. "Oh, you great puddenheaded riverdog, they'll only be little scones, baked in the shape of the big stones!"
The otter Chieftain scratched his head. "Aye, marm, seems I can't get a thing right t'day. D'you know why autumn follows summer, an' that's why the squirrels must build more scaffoldin', so that we can build the south gable end up to its peak with a weather vane atop? 'Cos I'm bio wed if'n I do, ole pudden'ead that I am!"
Columbine hugged Bella's huge paw. "Oh, what a lovely, wonderful idea! Our south gable built high, with a weather vane sticking up on it. When my Gonff comes marching down the path with Martin and Dinny and Trimp, why, they'll be able to see it from a great distance. How nice!"
A slow smile spread across Skipper's face as the reason for Bella's request dawned upon him.
"Haharr, so that's it! Swoggle me rudder, why didn't I think o' that?"
He fell backward as Bella and Columbine tugged his footpaws, chuckling aloud as they chorused together, " 'Cos you're a great puddenheaded old riverdog!"
Bella made the announcement right after breakfast. It was wholeheartedly supported by all the creatures of Redwall.
Lady Amber added to the excitement. "An excellent idea. I'll get my squirrels to work straight away on the scaffolding. Though 'twill take most of the day erecting it up on the south end, so here's what I suggest. Friends, you've worked hard and long all summer, why not have a day's rest? Perhaps a picnic by the pond can be arranged for early evening. We'll have finished the scaffolding by then, so we'll be able to join you. First thing tomorrow everybeast can pitch in and we'll really go to work and top off that south gable. How's that?" Rousing cheers greeted the Squirrelqueen's scheme. Ferdy and Coggs, the hedgehog Cellarkeepers, trundled barrels, kegs and casks out of the main Abbey door onto the lawn. Baby Gonflet was waiting with his gang of Dibbuns, all armed with wedge stones and prodding sticks. Coggs narrowed his eyes. "Wot are you up to, Gonflet, ye liddle wretch?"
Gonflet waved his barrel-prodding stick dismissively. "You'n'Ferd go now, Cogg. Us take these barrels down to a pond. Not wurry, us good barrel rollers!"
Coggs exchanged glances with his twin brother. "Wot d'ye reckon, Ferdy, shall we let 'em?"
Ferdy smiled at the Dibbuns, who were dancing about and waving their sticks eagerly.
"Aye, they got to learn sometime, I s'pose. But roll that big barrel o' strawberry fizz slow now, Gonflet, an' go easy with those firkins o' elderberry wine. An' the rest of ye, stay be'ind the barrels all the way, don't go runnin' in front. We don't want yore mammas after our blood 'cos you've been run down by some keg or cask!"
Bella walked by, followed by a group of Redwallers carrying canvas and poles.
"We'll make a good leanto," the Badgermother was saying. 'It'll provide shade for the food and the elders can rest there. Mayberry, will you and Catkin get a trolley, line it with blankets and fetch Abbess Germaine down to the pond? Go easy with her, pleaseremember, she's very old and frail."
Mayberry and Catkin, the two ottermaids, bobbed curtsies to Bella and trotted off, feeling very important.
Columbine supervised the kitchens, bringing order and calm to the bustle of cooks and helpers. "Clear those window ledges of scones now. We need room for the turnip and parsley flans to cool. Miz Woodspike, would you like to top those blackberry tarts off with meadow-cream? I don't know anybeast who does it as neat as you do. Mister Pitclaw, could you help me to get the oatloaves out of the ovens, please? Oh, and tell your moles we need more charcoal to heat that back oven for cheese and mushroom flans. No, don't worry about your deeper'n ever pie. I'll watch it while you are gone. Now, let me see, strawberry shortcake, rhubarb crumble, leek and onion turnovers, deep apple pie, is that everything? Oh dearie me, I've forgotten the salad!"
A fat bewhiskered bankvole broke in on Columbine's musings. "Never fret, missus, I been choppin' salad an' mixin' it since hard after brekkist. 'Tis just about made. Gurbee, did we remember to pick some fennel?"
A jolly-looking mole dug both claws into his apron pocket, rocking back and forth as he announced, "Hurr, you'm may 'ave furgitted ee fennyel, zurr, but oi bain't. Oi gurtly loiks moi salad well fennyelled. Burr aye!" Beamingly he pointed to a sizable pile of fennel.
Lady Amber stood high up on the south gable, heading the line of squirrels passing up thick yew scaffolding poles to others, with knives held in their teeth and lengths of stout cord draped over their shoulders. They chatted away nonchalantly, clinging by tails and paws from their perilous positions. Below them the lawns of Redwall Abbey looked like a series of green kerchiefs.
"Chuck me that big 'un with the forked top, Barko. Aye, that's the one. Ashtwig, grab this end while I tie it off to the main platform. Pass more cords up, will ye!"