PEARLS OF LUTRA
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O curse the name Mad Eyes,
Say woe to the day
When he tried to steal
Tears of all Oceans away.
All corsairs and searats
Whose messmates lie dead,
Saw blood and hot flame
Turn the seas flowing red.
Though northcoast lies far
And the ocean is wide,
Run from the green arrows
Of vengeance, and hide.
For the price of six tears
Through the dreams of us all,
Walks the fear of a Warrior
From the place called Redwall.
Now the life of our Brethren
Who followed the sea,
Will ne'er be the same
For such rovers as we.
'Twas the greed of a tyrant
That brought us to shame,
Six tears for a crown
Curse the Emperor's name!
Verses taken from an old corsair ballad.
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BOOK 1
SIX TEARS FOR AN ABBOT
Chapter 1
Though Tansy was still only a young hedgehog, she was known to be a veritable rock of good sense by the elders of Redwall Abbey. Because of this, she was one of the few youngsters allowed outside the Abbey walls, mainly to gather materials for Sister Cicely's remedies. Fine spring sunshine, tinged light green from the semitransparent new leaves, filtered down through the high canopy of Mossflower Wood, and somewhere off deeper in the woodlands a cuckoo sang its repetitive aria to the growing season. Tansy put her basket down upon a mossy knoll and began setting out food: a little chunk of yellow cheese, small farls of soft nutbread, a few candied chestnuts and a flagon of elderberry cordial. Fussily she dusted out the insides of two wooden beakers with her apron, then she peered about at the surrounding tree trunks.
"I know you're there, Arven, now come out this instant, or I'll eat all this lunch an' you won't get a crumb!" she called.
The tiny squirrel leapt from a nearby elm, landing neatly in a sitting position right next to her. Tansy stifled her surprise at his sudden appearance, and busied herself unfolding two clean serviettes as she lectured her charge severely.
"What've you been told about wandering off? D'you know I'm responsible for you? Just look at those mucky paws! Wipe them off on the moss before you touch a single thing, you maggot!"
Arven scrubbed his little paws on the clean linen smock he wore, leaving two muddy patches across it. He smiled winningly and grabbed a candied chestnut. "Am never wandled oft, no need t'be asponsible f'r Arven, not gett'n lost, ho no, too starven t'be losted!"
Tansy tried to hide a smile, but found herself unable to. Chuckling, she poured out a beaker of cordial for her friend. "You're a little maggot! What are you?"
"Me a lickle starven maggit, heeheehee! But Arven eat all lunch, then me be big maggit an' go hohoho!"
The little squirrel was never still. As he ate and drank he hopped around the knoll chanting, "Miggity Maggity hohoho! Tanzee panzee toogle doo!"
"I'll Tansy pansy you if you make yourself sick jumping round while you're eating," Tansy muttered, more to herself than Arven, as she checked over the plants she had collected. "Hmm, old hogweed stalks, young angelica shoots. Let's see, what else did Sister Cicely want. .. wintergreen, there may be some by the rocks."
She glanced up at the sky. It had been gradually clouding over as they ate, and now a few tell-tale drops on her face caused the young hedgehog to tut with annoyance. "Tch tch! Rain! There was no sign of it earlier, sky was clear as a bell. Come on, Arven, help me to pack this lot back into the basket. You can finish your lunch while I search among the rocks, there's good shelter there."
Swiftly the two friends repacked their basket and set off east, deeper into the woodlands. A chill wind sprang up, buffeting the treetops, whipping the increasing downpour until rain found its way through and began thrumming against the loamy earth. Tansy shielded Arven with her cape as he railed against the unpredictable mid-spring weather.
"Firsta sunny thena rainywet, it'sa maggit!"
The rocks were dark red sandstone ledges, tilted at a crazy angle in a small scrubby clearing. They pushed up out of the ground, piled against each other like a row of books gone askew on a bookshelf. Gaps caused by erosion formed many small, shallow caves, and Tansy and Arven huddled under the nearest one as the wind chased the rain.
Arven went into a little dance, shaking himself vigorously. Tansy shielded her face by holding up the basket.
"Be still, you rogue. I'm quite wet enough without you splashing rain all over me. Oh look, wintergreen!"
Reaching out into the rain, she plucked a tiny plant with pale green, spear-shaped leaves.
Arven was more interested in warmth. "Lighta fire, Tansy, make Arven dry'n'warm," he whimpered.
Tansy studied the strong-smelling seedling, which had been crushed underpaw by them as they entered the cave, explaining to the little squirrel as she did, "I don't have flints or tinder with me. Besides, old Rollo the Recorder says that only grown and experienced beasts are allowed to light fires in the woodlands. Fire is a very dangerous thing if it gets out of control."
Arven was not impressed by old Rollo's words. "Huh! Fire very dangerful, kuffwarh!" he said as he hopped out into the rain. "Any'ow, Arven wet now, can't get more wetted, me gonna play."
He bounded off out of view, with Tansy calling after him, "Stay close to the rocks, d'you hear me? Don't go wandering off, and keep that new smock in one piece, or Mother Auma will tan your tail good an' proper!"
When Arven was out of sight, Tansy sat miserably, watching the rain pattering off the rocks and staring at the ground in search of other wintergreen shoots. The day out that she had planned for herself and Arven in Mossflower woodlands had been ruined by the rain. It wasn't fair, especially after she had begged and pleaded with Auma to be allowed to take Arven with her. The morning had started off bright and sunny; she had made up the lunch and packed it herself, listened carefully to Sister Cicely's instructions, then set off holding Arven with one paw and the basket with the other, feeling very grown up and responsible. Wullger the otter was on gate duty, and he had winked and tipped his tail to Tansy as he let her out of the main wallgate.
She smiled to herself, remembering how Viola bankvole had been watching from the rampart steps. That snippy Viola! Mincing about and giving herself all kinds of airs and graces, always making smart remarks. But Viola was too fiibberty-gibbet to be allowed out alone. The young hedgehog had made a special point of waving at her and calling aloud, "Just popping out to Mossflower, see you later, Viola dear!"
The prissy bankvole had turned nearly purple with envy. Hah! That'd shown her!
"Tanzeeeeee!"
Arven's scream brought Tansy back to the present like lightning. Tossing aside the basket, she hitched up her smock and went dashing out into the rain, scrambling up the rocks as she charged forward to the sounds of the screeching babe.
"Tanzeeee! 'uneeeeee!"
Hurtling along the uneven top of the sloping sandstone mass, Tansy yelled into the wind and rain, "Arven, where are you? Keep shouting, keep shouting!"
"Fell downer 'ooooooole! 'elp, Tanzeeeeeee!"
Speeding to the spot where the sound came from, Tansy threw herself on all fours, reaching her paws down into a broad crack in the rocks. She felt Arven's tiny damp paws latch onto hers and breathed a swift sigh of relief.
"Hold tight, I'll have you out o' there in a tick!"
Before she could start lifting him, the nimble little fellow had scrambled up over her paws, stepped on her nose and onto the back of her neck, leaping clear and shouting, "Lookalooka! Down there! Eeeeeeee!"