Martin twirled his paw towards Tansy. "The honor is all yours, my friend!"
Inside the flourbag was the shell of a scallop, a huge one. Deep ridges on both sides met where the shell closed in a perfect watertight seal. At some time a clever and artful creature had created darkwood hinges to the shell's back flanges and a cunning clasplock on the front. As Tansy opened the shell, she recited the second half of the rhyme:
"There wrought by mother nature 'neath the main,
Lies that which holds the beauty, or the bane."
Both halves of the scallop shell fell open before their eager eyes. The interior of the shell was lined with soft red cloth. One perfectly round ball of thin fine parchment nestled in a holder; five more holding spaces were empty.
Rollo sighed with disappointment. "I told you, Martin, this is only the beginning of a wild goose chase. What a tricky and aggravating squirrel Fermald the Ancient wasthough fates preserve her memory."
Martin heard Rollo, but he was staring at Tansy. "What's on your mind, missie? You seem very pensive."
The hogmaid let her paw stray across the five vacant holders. "Sea shell, sea birds ... oh, I don't know. What is sure is that there are five empty spaces, which must mean that there are five missing balls of paper."
"Well, let's not waste any time," said Rollo. "Let's open the one we've got and see where fortune leads us."
Rollo's paws shook as he worked, carefully peeling the delicate tissue of the flimsy orb open. "Gently does it, I don't want to rip the paper. Ah, there!"
The three friends scanned Fermald's spidery writing.
For you my old friend Higgle,
I shed a single tear,
The kindnesses oft showed me,
Your food and smiling cheer.
Go, find my gift, good Friar,
This tear is given free,
Not hid away in secret,
But there for all to see!
Rollo stared into the fire, watching the intricate flamedances around log and charcoal. "Tears, tears, always tears," he said.
Tansy could not resist a little joke. “If tears are the answer you need, go no further than Viola bankvole; she's always weeping and whining about something or other. Let's try her!"
Martin gave the hedgehog maid a sideways glance. “Probably because she's easy to pick on. I'm surprised at you, Tansy, making fun of the misfortune of others."
The regret Tansy showed at her ill-chosen remark was sincere. "I'm sorry, sir, I'll try to be kinder to Viola in the future."
Rollo patted her paw cheerily. "Well spoken, young 'un, that's the true Redwall spirit. Here, finish this pastie off before it grows cold."
Tansy needed no second bidding; Teasel's pastie was delicious.
For a long while the three friends sat in silence, staring at the thin scrap of parchment and pondering its meaning. Cavern Hole was peaceful and warm, and soon Rollo's glasses started to slip further down his nose as his head began to slump forward. Martin winked at Tansy and nodded towards the drowsing old Recorder, then he blew gently on Rollo's eyelids.
The bankvole blinked several times and sat up straight, as if he had never dozed off, saying, "Ahem! Right, where are we, still studying this rhyme, eh?"
Martin kept a straight face as he replied, "Aye, still studying. Have you come up with any good ideas?"
Rollo's paw shot up decisively. "I've got it. Here's what we must do next!"
Martin and Tansy exclaimed together, "What?"
A twinkle shone in Rollo's tired old eyes. "Go straight to bed before we all fall asleep here and wake up with stiff necks and rickety backs. Now don't start pouting, miss, we've got to sleep sometime. Tell her, Martin."
The Warriormouse rose and stretched. "He's right, Tansy. You'll see, a clear morning after a sound night's sleep and a good breakfast always improves a creature's brainpower. You'd best sleep in the dormitory, Viola is in your infirmary bed. Come on now, up you go!"
Despite her protestations that she was not the least bit tired, Tansy found the dormitory bed soft and comfortable. Sleep stole up, gently closing her eyelids and leading her into the realm of odd dreams.
Martin appeared, but he was not quite like the Martin she knew so well, and he was wearing a magnificent suit of armor. Tansy realized that this was the other Martin, the Warrior Founder of Redwallthe same mouse whose likeness was woven into the tapestry which hung in Great Hall. He wore the same sword she had often seen the present Martin wearing.
Tansy felt happy in the presence of the Warrior. He radiated strength, safety and confidence, and his voice was soothing when he spoke.
"Maid of Redwall, search and never give up hope. You will find joy, frustration and sorrow in your quest. Never forget that friendship and loyalty are more precious than riches. Remember these words on the day you must return the Tears to their true owner. Happiness can be brief, but it knows no time in the land of dreams. Sleep on and I will show you."
The Warrior's image faded and Tansy went deep into the most pleasant dream. Like a leaf she was borne upward, and she wandered with the breeze through quiet summer woodlands, resting in sunlit coppices, drifting on margins of still-water meadows and dancing lightly over faraway flower-clad hills.
Chapter 14
Friar Higgle Stump was up and about early the next morning. He trundled down to his beloved kitchens, grumbling to himself.
"I wager breakfast ain't but 'alf started yet. Best be about my business, 'ungry mouths t'feed. That Sister Cicely, she'd 'ave a body lyin' abed all season for no good reason. Us Stumps're made of stern spike, 'tis plain no seagull can bother me!"
He strode boldly into the kitchens, only to be met by his wife Teasel's accusing eye.
"I knowed there weren't nothin' wrong wi' you, 'iggle, I 'spect it was you sneaked down last night late an' took a slice of that parsnip an' mushroom pastie I left out to cool afore I went abed!"
The good Friar brushed past her stiffly, saying, "Shame on you for even thinkin' such a thing about me, marm! When did I ever filch food from me own kitchens, eh?"
He set about measuring oatmeal and barley into a mixing bowl before livening up the oven fires with fresh charcoal. Teasel took a tray of nutbread rolls down from her cooling shelf, her muttering blending with that of Higgle. Both hedgehogs chunnered to themselves as they went about their cooking chores.
"A pastie that eats itself? Ain't naught but mysteries of late in this 'ere Abbey, mysteries an' mischief!"
"Huh! This honey's stiff as glue, I'd best leave it atop the oven t'warm through. Parsnips don't agree with me, why should I want to eat 'er pastie?"
"We're goin' t'need more white cheese afore the mornin's done, aye, an' this oven fire needs a good rakin' out..."
Abbot Durral had also risen early. He strode into the kitchens rubbing his paws in a lively fashion. "Good morrow to you both, can I lend a paw? Here, that fire needs raking out, Teasellet me do it!"
The three friends went about their work as the atmosphere lightened and mouth-watering aromas began pervading the air. Durral helped Higgle to carry a small churn of greensap milk from the cooling slab to the mixing bowl, explaining his day's plans as they measured it into the oatmeal and barley.
"I thought I'd take a stroll into Mossflower woodlands today, collect some coltsfoot and brooklime, maybe find a clearing where some red clover is showing. It's going to be a nice warm day, I feel we'll soon have a hint of summer."
Friar Higgle winked knowingly at his friend, and said, “Who knows, may'aps I'll be able to make you some pastilles if'n you collects enough o' those plants, Father Abbot."
Durral hid a smile, putting on a mock-defensive tone. "Coltsfoot pastilles are good for the young ones, keep them fit, good for coughs and any number of small ailments."