Immediately the hare's attitude changed. He shook Martin's paw, chuckling as he bowed to the other Redwallers. "Friends, eh? Well, I knew that all along, just testin', wot! Allow me to introduce m'self, ahem! I'm Cleckstarr Lepus Montisle, of the far northern Montisles that is, known to all an' sundry as Clecky. My erstwhile companion of the road you may call Gerul, simple t'remember, y'see, Clecky an' Gerul. As you may've prob'ly observed, Gerul is an owl, though not of the wise old variety, more the silly young type I'd say, bit of a duffer, wot!"
Gerul blinked his great eyes at the assembly, saying, "Ah well, 'tis nice t'see ye, sirs, so 'tis, a rare ould pleasure!"
Clecky shook his head despairingly. “Would somebeast put the cloak back over his pudden head, we were gettin' more sense out o' the bird when he was silent. Oh say, look, there's a small fat mouse on fire!"
Foremole and Wullger had joined them, Foremole holding the lantern. He tugged his nose in greeting to the hare, saying, "Hurr hurr, you'm be a gurt joker, zurr, oi bain't no mouse afire, oi'm nought but a mole wi' a lantern!"
General good humor prevailed and, amid introductions all round, the two wayfarers were invited back to Redwall.
The little party proceeded to the Abbey with Foremole in the lead carrying his lantern; Martin and the Abbot brought up the rear.
Abbot Durral had retrieved Tansy's basket. He checked the contents, saying, “Old hogweed stalks, young angelica. See, she even managed to find some newgrown wintergreen. What a dutiful creature little Tansy is. A pity she was frightened by the sight of a deadbeast. Did you recognize anything about its remains, Martin?"
The Warriormouse drew his cloak close against the night wind. “Very little, apart from the fact that he was a weasel once, some kind of corsair too, if the rags he had on were anything to go by. Strange though, he was clasping this in his paw Fermald's spoon. That weasel must have been inside our Abbey!"
The spoon was old, beautifully carved from the wood of a buckthorn bush. Martin passed it to the Abbot, who also recognized it.
"You're right, this was the spoon Fermald the Ancient used to carry about with her. Aha! Now I know. The creature you found was Graylunk the weasel, he came to us two autumns ago!"
Martin rubbed his chin, obviously puzzled. "Two autumns back? Why didn't I see this Graylunk?"
The Father Abbot paused, then held up his paw. "Of course, you wouldn't know! That was the season you spent away from Redwall, helping the Guosim shrews against robber foxes."
Upon reaching the Abbey most of the elders sought their beds. Martin, Rollo and the Abbot busied themselves, adding logs to the fire in Great Hall and putting together a sizable repast from the remains of the spring feast for the owl and hare.
Clecky poured himself a beaker of strawberry cordial, heaped a platter high with deeper'n ever turnip'n'tater'n'beetroot pie, topped it off with two wedges of cheese and a massive portion of fresh spring salad, and wiped away a tear of joy with the corner of his white tunic.
"Oh corks! I say, you chaps, what a spiffin' spread! Tell me Im not dreamin', wot!"
Gerul the young barn owl speared a carrot and mushroom flan with his powerful talons. "Arrah, away with yeh, flopears, nobeast c'd imagine you a dreamin' with vittles in front of ye, y'great long-legged gutbag. Why, I've seen turnips uproot themselves an' run from yeh with me own two eyes, so I have!"
Seated by the fire with Rollo and the Abbot, Martin smiled as he watched the two ravenous newcomers. "Friar Higgle won't need any leftover recipes with those gluttons about. Right, tell me all you know about the weasel who visited here in my absence, Rollo."
Using his journal as a reminder, Rollo the Recorder created the incident.
“ A weasel called Graylunk came to our Abbey gates in mid-autumn. He was a villainous-looking vermin, but quite harmless due to a dreadful skull wound he had received, probably from one of his own kind. Graylunk was weak and ill, and not in his right mind. We took him in out of pity, gave him food, warmth and shelter, doing what we could for his injury. I recall that he seemed to be terrified of many things, from the merest shadow to the sight of a bird flying overhead. He would often be found crouched in a corner moaning things like, 'Mad Eyes will find me, his claws stretch beyond sea and land! Fools that we were to take the Tears of all Oceans, death follows wherever they go! Witless beast that I am, woe to me, 'tis useless to try to escape the vengeance of Mad Eyes!' "
Here, Martin interrupted. "Hmmm, very strange. It may be nonsense, but on the other hand it may not. Tears of all Oceans; Mad Eyes; claws stretching beyond sea and land? Sounds like a riddle to meas if this Mad Eyes is after those Tears, whatever they are. And why was Graylunk out there with Fermald's spoon?"
"I remember that dirge too," said the Abbot. "The weasel carried on moaning and whining in such a manner, until even the most patient Abbeybeast grew tired of his ceaseless dirge. There was only one who had any sympathy for Graylunk, and that was Fermald the Ancient."
Martin polished the buckthorn spoon fondly upon his sleeve. "Ah yes, poor old Fermald, may fates rest kindly upon her. What an odd little squirrel, always saying verse and talking in riddles. I've heard it said that overlong seasons may sometimes do that to a creature. Fermald retreated into the curious world her mind had created. Maybe it was a nice place for her to be, she was always smiling and contented. She lived alone in the attics above the dormitories; perhaps the answer to this mystery lies somewhere there. Oh, I'm sorry, Rollo, please carry on."
The Recorder put aside his journal, shrugging. "There's not much more to tell. Fermald took Graylunk up to her attic, they ate, talked and slept there. Hardly anybeast in Redwall recalled seeing the weasel for six or seven days. Then one morning Fermald came to the kitchens for food and took only sufficient for one."
Again the Abbot recalled the incident. "Ah yes, excuse me, Rollo, I was there that day helping Higgle to make an upside-down cake. So I asked Fermald why she was not taking food for her guest, and she replied just one word. Gone! Remembering the deep skull wound Graylunk had, I asked her if he were dead and gone. Her answer was very cryptic."
Martin leaned forward in his chair, saying, "Do you recall what she said, Father Abbot?"
Durral sat back, folding both paws into his wide sleeves and closing his eyes. "Indeed I do," he said. "Fermald spoke in rhyme. The lines stuck in my mind for no good reason.
“ Dead and gone, no, gone to be dead,
Following the crack that runs through his head.
From beyond the sunset, they will appear,
Tell them, the weasel was never here.
Remember my words and use them someday,
To keep the wrath of Mad Eyes away!"
In the silence that followed there was a noise from the far corner by the stairs. Swiftly Martin held a paw to his lips and moved quietly across Great Hall, followed by Rollo. They were almost halfway to the source of the noise when Clecky went dashing past them, paws slapping noisily on the stone-paved floor. Reaching the stair bottom, he held up two pieces of a pottery platter.
"Plate fell down the stairs, wot! That's all the noise was," he chortled. "Us hares don't miss a bally thing, even when we're scoffin'. I say, you chaps were a bit tardy there, tip-pawin' about like shrimps in a swamp, wot, wot?"
Martin went straight up the stairs at a run, while Rollo stood glaring frostily at the hare, explaining between gritted teeth, "Thank you very much, sir, for frightening away whoever was on those stairs listening to our conversation! Your great lolloping footpaws sent them off upstairs before we had a chance to see who it was!"
The mountain hare wiggled his long ears huffily. "Tut tut, sir! If you'd been a touch quicker, like I was, then you'd have the culprit by the jolly old heels!"