The spirit of Redwall,

Whilst I protect this Abbey,

You’ll eat nobeast at all!’”

The mice beneath the bed raised a cheer at the name of their hero. “Hooray! Good old Martin. What did he do, Brother?”

Hollyberry stood, drawing a long ladle from his habit sleeve.

“Then Martin drew his trusty sword

And chopped that ghost apart.

He sliced his nose, he carved his ears,

He whacked its legs and head,

He chopped its claws, he hacked its jaws,

Then to the ghost he said:

‘Be sure to brush up all your bits,

Goodnight, I’m off to bed!’”

Applause and relieved laughter greeted the fitting end of the ghost of Redwall. Creatures were settling down to await the next story when Thrugann mischievously tossed a crust of jam-smeared bread into Dingeye’s lap and whooped, “Oo dear, look out, it’s the ghost’s tail. Oohoo!”

The panic-stricken stoat bowled Thura and Arula tip over tail as he leapt up, startled. It was some time before the laughter subsided and order was restored. Dingeye brushed the floor with his paws, laughing nervously as he searched.

“Haha, that weren’t no ghost’s tail at all, haha, it was a trick.”

Thura had scoffed the crust. He clipped Dingeye’s ears smartly. “Of course it was the ghost’s tail, noddle’ead. It’s vanished, ain’t it? On’y a real ghost tail could vanish!”

Dingeye stared at the empty floor and shuddered. “Never shoulda come t’ this Redhall place, mucker!”

Suddenly Sister Nasturtium’s clear voice cut across them. She was staring at the wall and reciting:

“When night meets day, stand clear away,

Beware the Abbey then.

Stay close beside the rampart wall,

Await the moment when

The flame of storm will strike my blade

To aid the badger Lord,

And bring back to Redwall one day

A guardian and a sword.”

In the hush that followed, Brother Hollyberry shook the sleeve of Nasturtium, who was sitting staring, as if in a trance. “Sister, what is it? Are you all right?”

She blinked and looked about her. “Oh dear, have I done it again? Goodness only knows what I’ve been saying. Was it something dreadful?”

Thrugann placed a protective paw about her shoulders. “No, no, ’twas only some ol’ poetry, Sister—nothin’ for you to get upset over. You look tired. Come on, it’s bed for you. In fact, it’s bed for all you young uns too, otherwise you’ll sleep right through Nameday tomorrow an’ miss it!”

*   *   *