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Chapters (50)
  1. TRAPPED
  2. Title Page
  3. Map
  4. BOOK ONE
  5. 1
  6. 2
  7. 3
  8. 4
  9. 5
  10. 6
  11. 7
  12. 8
  13. 9
  14. 10
  15. 11
  16. 12
  17. 13
  18. 14
  19. 15
  20. BOOK TWO
  21. 16
  22. 17
  23. 18
  24. 19
  25. 20
  26. 21
  27. 22
  28. 23
  29. 24
  30. 25
  31. 26
  32. 27
  33. 28
  34. BOOK THREE
  35. 29
  36. 30
  37. 31
  38. 32
  39. 33
  40. 34
  41. 35
  42. 36
  43. 37
  44. 38
  45. 39
  46. 40
  47. 41
  48. 42
  49. 43
  50. 44

“Mara—a good name for such a lovely creature.” Vale clasped the badger maid’s paw tightly. “Yes, I am sure you could be of help, Mara.”

Striding slowly over to the gateway door, Mara raised her paw and dealt it a flat blow. The sound boomed out as she called, “Open these gates in the name of your Abbess!”

Immediately the hinges creaked as the gateway door swung open.

*   *   *

It was a joyous shock. Every creature in the Abbey crowded on to the lawn in front of the main entrance, cheering them to the echo. Faith and Abbess Vale were bewildered until Thrugg stepped forward and bowed.

“Forgive our liddle surprise, ladies. They let me in by the north wallgate. King MacPhearsome has been watchin’ Samkim’s approach for the past three days. No need t’ worry yore ’eads, just step this way, if y’ please!”

Samkim and Arula were borne shoulder-high, and the young squirrel waving Martin’s sword cheered as loudly as anybeast. Paw in paw, Mara and the Abbess headed the procession.

*   *   *

In the center of the orchard a feast had been laid out.

Pikkle gazed at it in openmouthed delight. “Well, flop my ears! I’ve heard of tucker, but I never thought I’d live to see such a bally spread as this!”

Dumble appeared from beneath a table, his high northland accent forgotten as he clung to the Abbess’s robe, staring around at the army of strange shrews.

“It’s a Nameday, Muvva. Wot we gunna call it?”

The Abbess looked fondly at Mara and Pikkle standing next to Arula and Samkim.

“The Autumn of the Homecomers. What else could we call it?”

43

The Feast of the Autumn of the Homecomers was an event long to be remembered in the annals of Redwall Abbey. For the first time in many long seasons the big badger’s chair that had remained empty for so long had a badger sitting in it: Mara, Guardian of Redwall.

Friar Bellows, clad in a smart new white apron and cook’s hat, stood ladle in paw on top of a barrel of cowslip cordial where all present could see him. The fat mouse coughed importantly.

“Er, ahem, ahem! Your attention please, friends. Very good, very good! Now, er, as most of you are new guests to our Nameday table, the Abbess has asked me to say a word or two.”

Vale chuckled quietly as she whispered to Alfoh, “I never asked Bellows to say anything, but he will!”

The Redwall Friar continued his speech, warming to the subject. “It is indeed unusual to see such visitors joining us. I’ve never catered for a royal golden eagle, four falcons, a badger and a veritable army of shrews, to say nothing of a hare—”

“I never told you to say nothing of me, old chap,” Pikkle chipped in.