High Rhulain

But the ottermaid continued trying to reason with him. “I promise you we won’t, Brother, really. It’s most important that I speak with them. If we can’t come in, then perhaps you could allow them to come out. You have my solemn word we’ll return them to you as soon as I have the information we require.”

The Infirmary Keeper could be rather stubborn when he had a mind to, a quality he viewed more as a virtue than a fault. “Allow them out? Certainly not, miss! The birds are both injured creatures. They need to recover under my care. That’s my final word. Now be off with you!”

Perant was about to slam the door when Abbess Lycian arrived upon the scene with the hogbabe Grumby in tow. The Dibbun hid behind her habit, sucking on his paw.

Lycian smiled disarmingly. “Ah, Brother Perant, have you a moment to spare for a wounded kitchen helper?”

The little hogbabe was still sucking lustily on his paw as the Abbess ushered him forward. “Tell Brother Perant what happened to you.”

Lycian removed the paw from Grumby’s mouth so he could speak. “I’m hurted meself, Bruvva, sticked me pore likkle paw onna ’ot h’oven an’ cookered it!”

The good Brother forgot his stubborness, softening instantly. “Oh lack a day and dearie me! Friar Bibble never told me we were having small cooked hogpaws for supper. Come in, young sir, let’s see what we can do about your poor paw!”

Grumby hung back reluctantly. “Baby Taggle say you gonna choppa off me paw wivva big knife. Then she say you choppa me tail off, too!”

Crouching down level with Grumby, the healer chuckled. “Don’t you take any notice of Dibbun Taggle, she’s a dreadful fibber. Wait until I see her . . . why, I’ll put nasty ointment on her tongue and bandage it up!”

Grumby giggled at the idea. “Tharra teach ’er to fib!”

Perant led him into the Infirmary. “I’ll tell you how I treat cooked paws. First, I bathe them in nice cool water. Then I apply some soothing salve and a dressing. While I’m doing this, you can use your good paw to help yourself to some candied chestnuts from my special jar. How does that sound to you, sir?”

Grumby rattled his spikes with pleasure. “Sounders fine t’me, Bruvva. . . . Yeek, the big birdies gonna h’eat me!”

He scooted out of the Infirmary, straight into Tiria’s paws. Recognising an opportunity, she smiled winningly at Perant. “I’m sure they wouldn’t, but he’s only a Dibbun, probably never seen a hawk or a goose close-up, Brother. Please, won’t you reconsider letting us take them off your paws for a while so you can attend to little Grumby?”

Though Lycian did not know exactly what was going on, she spoke up on behalf of Tiria and her friends. “The birds won’t come to any harm with these young ones, Brother. They’re almost fully grown-up now. I’ll keep an eye on them, too. What do you say, friend?”

Besides being stubborn, Perant was also highly conscious of Abbey protocol and courtesy. He bowed gravely. “If that is your wish, Mother Abbess!”

Afternoon tea was being served on the front lawn, not far from the gatehouse. Redwallers broke off momentarily, some of them showing apprehension at the arrival of an osprey and a barnacle goose. Lycian reassured them calmly.

“We’ve brought some friends to tea. This is Brantalis, and this is Pandion. They’re very well-mannered. Do make them welcome, please.”

Tribsy, like all the younger creatures, greatly admired the ease with which Lycian was able to deal with everybeast, even though many of the Abbey’s residents were older than their Abbess. “Burr, you’m surrpinkly gotten ee way abowt you’m, marm. H’ole Perant bee’d abowt to shoo us’n’s off, but you’m soon fixered ’im. Hurr hur, naow you’m a settlin’ h’eveybeast completeful to ease with ee gurt burds!”

Tiria and Lycian took the birds to the buffet table, allowing them to choose what they liked. Brantalis opted for soft cheese and watercress sandwiches, which he immersed in a bowl of pea and cabbage soup and gobbled down with evident relish. Pandion favoured preserved fruits and a leek and mushroom turnover, both of which he seemed to enjoy. The Redwallers dining nearby were amused by the barnacle goose’s quaint mode of speech.

“This good food, I am thinking it is very likeful. Soon I am thinking I will try some of that tireful!”

Brinty laughed. “That’s called trifle, not tireful. I’m sure you’ll like it. Maybe Pandion will, too.”

The great fish hawkpecked at his turnover pastry crust. “Kraaah! I will have the soup with watershrimps in it. Pandion likes watershrimp!”

Tiria interrupted politely. “It’s also a favourite among otters. Actually, all Redwall vittles are good. But first I must ask you some questions.”

A group of Dibbuns had formed a ring on the lawn. They flexed their tiny limbs, hopping about, as Sister Doral, the Abbey Beekeeper, tuned up her fiddle.

Once prepared, the jolly Sister called out, “Please take your places for the Bee Dance. Abbess Lycian and Hillyah, will you oblige us by singing the verses?” Without further ado, she struck up the lively introduction.