The wise old shrew smiled wistfully. “Look at them playing at sandcastles like a proper bunch of young uns. Arula, what about a tunnel entrance?”

The young molemaid touched a heavy digging claw to her nose. “Thankee, zurr Alfoh. Oi’ll do that straight-ways, hurr hurr.”

Arula vanished in a spray of flying sand as Ashnin shook her head in wonderment. “They bounce right back like springy little branches. That’s a good thing, Alfoh. It helps them to forget all the hardships, warfare and slaying they’ve been through. Look at young Samkim sitting alone down there by the sea. I wonder what he’s thinking of. He’s been very quiet all morning.”

*   *   *

Samkim was staring at the logboats moored above the tideline. The sword of Martin lay beside him. He made no move to join the others, staying alone and apart from everybeast.

Still clad in her new smock, Mara approached the solitary young squirrel. She sat beside him, gazing out at the sea pensively. Without looking at her, Samkim began to voice his thoughts. It soon developed into a conversation, though they both avoided each other’s eyes.

“The season is dying, Mara. I feel that summer is gone and the autumn is upon us. The leaves will turn gold and brown.”

“So they will, Samkim. Nobeast can stop the turn of the seasons. I think you are lonely and far from home. What is Redwall like in the autumn?”

“Oh, it’s a happy place to be at anytime. Autumn is harvest time: the fruits and crops are gathered in, October ale is made, chestnuts are candied in honey. We sit up late in Cavern Hole around a great fire, enjoying supper and listening to the stories and songs of bygone days. The mornings are quiet and misty. Leaves rustle in Mossflower Woods, and you can feel the dew on the grass between your paws, smell the bread and cakes being baked in the kitchens, lie in the orchard on a sunny afternoon and eat a russet apple or a ripe purple plum. Oh yes, Redwall is like no other place.”

“You must love your home very much, Samkim.”

“Aye, the Abbey is everything to me. What about you, Mara? Salamandastron is a fine place—don’t you like being here?”