Standing either side of the badgermaid, Buckler and Diggs saluted. Brang acknowledged them with a nod. He stood facing Ambrevina, who though not having the Badger Lord’s powerful bulk, was taller than him by a half head. The music halted.
Brang held forth his paw, treating the new guest to one of his rare smiles. “Lady, I am Lord Brang Forgefire, Ruler of Salamandastron. Your presence here gives me great pleasure. Welcome!”
The badgermaid accepted the outstretched paw graciously. “I am called Ambrevina Rockflash, from the far Eastern Shores, Sire. I deem it an honour to be here.”
With Ambrevina’s paw resting upon his, Lord Brang turned, leading the procession into the mountain. The band began playing a stately measured piece, entitled “Heart o’ the Western Shores.”
General Flurry whispered to Buckler, “Lordship wants to see all three of ye up in his Forge Chamber before the feast.”
Diggs’s eyes lit up. “Oh, I say, a jolly old feast, wot! You go on ahead with Ambry, Buck. I’m not much flippin’ good at reportin’ back. I’ll stop down here with the chaps!”
General Flurry’s moustache tickled Diggs’s good ear as the old officer murmured threateningly, “You’ll do no such thing, sah. Go on, straight up to the Forge Chamber with ye!”
Diggs groaned and carried on upstairs, managing to twitch his good ear savagely at one of his regimental comrades. “Beware, Tubby Magrool. Touch a single festive crumb before I get back, an’ I’ll box your fat head!”
The mist had cleared now, leaving a fine autumn day. From the broad, low window of the upper chamber, the mighty sea was smooth as a millpond right out to the hazy western horizon.
They sat on a cushion-strewn ledge, savouring the rose-hip and almond-blossom cordial which Flurry served liberally. The Badger Lord could not take his gaze away from Ambrevina.
“You carry the name Rockflash. I knew one or two of them in my young seasons. They were experts at wielding slings.”
Ambrevina produced her own sling, a big, formidable thing. “Aye, Lord, I can use one. I was brought up amongst kin whose only weapons were slings.”
Brang indicated the broadsword she wore. “Yet you carry a blade, one I made at that forge yonder. I recognise it as belonging to the Kordyne clan. How so?”
Buckler interrupted to explain. “My brother Clerun was slain by a sable beast, Zwilt the Shade, and his vermin killers. I’ll mention all that in my report, Sire. But his wife, Clarinna, gave me the sword and this medal, of which you know. She lives at Redwall now, with her twin babes. They wish to be peaceful creatures, so she gave me the sword. I have my own blade, so I thought Lady Ambrevina could use it.”
Brang nodded. “And can you use it, Lady?”
The badgermaid smiled. “I am learning, Lord, and what better teacher do I need than Blademaster Kordyne?”
Buckler flushed to his eartips, remarking, “She doesn’t really need a sword, being so brilliant with a sling, Lord. Perhaps she could instruct you in the slinger ’s art, Sire?”
Brang took the sling, weighing its balance. “Perhaps she could. I’d enjoy that!”
Diggs blanched as his stomach growled aloud. “Not as much as I’d enjoy a flippin’ feast!”
Brang’s reproving eye fixed upon the tubby subaltern. “What was that—I beg your pardon?”
Diggs giggled foolishly. “No need t’beg my pardon, Sire. ’Twas my tummy makin’ all that commotion. Er, I, er, was just sayin’ how jolly spiffin’ it is t’be back home, eh, wot wot?”
The Badger Lord’s eyes softened indulgently. “Aye, I suppose it is good to be back home, and talking about that, I hope you’ll treat this as your home, Lady?”
Ambrevina curtsied lithely. “I would be delighted to call Salamandastron home, Sire! I’ve seen this mountain many times in my dreams.”
Brang nodded. “I know you have, and I’ve dreamed of having you here. When one gets old, the young must take their place. Salamandastron would be safe in your paws, Ambrevina. General Flurry and I will one day pass all this over to you. I think my mountain would flourish under your rule. Though you will have much to learn. Maybe you need a General Buckler Kordyne at your side?”
Buckler shook his head. “You know how I feel about such things, Sire. I’m well content with being a Blademaster, if that’s alright with Lady Ambrevina?”
The badgermaid paused a moment before replying, “Of course, Buck. I know I could always count on you if I needed to. That is, providing I could have a faithful assistant, a Colonel Diggs maybe?”
General Flurry huffed through his mustachios, “ ’Pon me scut, marm, that young blighter an officer! What would he know about bein’ a confounded colonel?”
Ambrevina could not resist chuckling. “Oh, he’s had previous experience, eh, Buck?”
Buckler stifled a laugh. “Aye, marm, that he has!”
Lord Brang looked from one to the other. “I think you’d best make your reports. You first, Diggs!”
The homecoming feast lasted a full three days, with little letup. The amount of food and drink a regiment of hares got through was truly legendary. Ambrevina sat between Lord Brang and Buckler. She enjoyed every moment of it, even the bawdy barrack-room ballads—she joined in as she learned the choruses.
All the young hares voted her tremendously popular, especially after she gave an exhibition of slinging out on the beach. They were filled with awe at the distance and accuracy of the badgermaid’s throwing. Diggs had the company in peals of laughter, wearing the false ear in various positions: under his chin as a beard, or across his nose as a moustache, when he performed a hilarious imitation of General Flurry.
Lord Brang and Buckler took a break from the festivities on the third afternoon. Away from the hurly-burly, they sat on a sun-warmed rock just above the tideline. The Badger Lord stared out at the placid sea gently lapping golden sand as it ebbed westward. Brang sighed.
“You know, Buck, I wish you’d reconsider that post as a senior officer. Lady Ambrevina would welcome a fine brain such as yours when she takes over from me.”
Buckler tossed a pebble at the receding tide. “I didn’t say I wouldn’t help her, sir. I’d give my life in her service, she knows that. But this thing about bein’ a general, well, that’s not really my style.”
The big old badger chuckled. “In some ways you never change, just like your grandsire, a true Kordyne warrior. Though, listening to the report of your mission, I can see that you’ve altered greatly in other things. Experience, that’s what you’ve gained, Buck.”
The young hare picked up some sand, then let it sift through his paw. “Aye, I’ve seen a few things and learned a bit. Travelling with a companion like good old Diggs, friends such as the Witherspyks and the Guosim. Discovering the wonders of Redwall Abbey and its honest creatures. Huh, even meeting my first Bloodwrath mole, Axtel. Losing my brother Clerun, seeing his two little babes, knowing what it means t’be an uncle. Freeing the young uns, battling with the Ravagers, watching friend and foe alike slain. You don’t live through those things without addin’ to your knowledge of life, sir. Thanks to you, who sent me off that day. It seems so long ago now.”
They sat in silence a moment, then Buckler arose. “Beggin’ y’pardon, Lord, but I’ve got to go. It’s time for the Lady Ambrevina’s fencing lesson.”
Brang nodded, drawing a parchment from his cloak pocket. “Of course, off y’go, now. I’ll read this letter you brought from my friend Marjoram.”
Buckler saluted and trotted off. The Badger Lord watched him draw his long rapier as he went, ready to begin the lesson. Before he unrolled the parchment, he called after the young hare, “Before you go, d’you remember what I told you about travelling?”
Buckler turned in a swirl of sand, shouting his reply, “Indeed I do, Sire. You said travelling was an adventure—an’ it was, too. A real adventure!”
Bounding up onto a rock, Buckler twirled his blade on high. With all the joy and vigour of his growing seasons, he roared the Long Pa
trol battle cry.
“Euuuulaliiiiaaaaa!”
EPILOGUE
Herein is the contents of a letter sent by Abbess Marjoram to Lord Brang.To Lord Brang Forgefire, Ruler of Salamandastron and
Lord of the Western Shores
From Marjoram, Mother Abbess of Redwall Abbey
Dearest friend,
I send you heartfelt greetings and best wishes for your continued good health. My thanks for the gift of the beautifully crafted bellropes. I am sure they will help to toll our Abbey bells for untold seasons to come. I hope you are pleased with the enchanting young badger Ambrevina. Her presence will grace your mountain, and I am certain that one day she will become a worthy successor to you.
It is a delight for us to have two young hares with us. Only last afternoon, I took tea in the orchard with their mother, Clarinna. What a remarkable creature she is, having started a gardening and nature study class for our Dibbuns. Calla and Urfa are dear little babes. They will grow into fine leverets.
What brave and courageous hares you have at Salamandastron! Buckler and Diggs are a credit to your Long Patrol. I was sorry, as were a lot of others, to see them leave us. Our population at the Abbey has swelled somewhat, since now we have Axtel Sturnclaw, Mumzy Water Vole and the entire Witherspyk Company staying with us permanently. Come one, come all, as long as they are good and honest beasts, that’s what I’ve always said. We are blessed by the seasons, happy to live amidst peace and plenty and strengthened by growing numbers of friends. What more could one ask?
Log a Log Jango sends you his good wishes. I think you and he have met before.
My chief desire would be to gaze from Redwall’s west battlements one morn and see you marching at the head of your gallant Long Patrol, roaring out a stout marching song as you come to visit us. Do you think this would be possible? Next summer would be nice. We would love to have you all here with us. Friar Soogum has promised a feast that will go down in the Annals of Redwall. I myself will toll the bells specially for you.
Brang, old friend, I know you will honour us with your presence. You and any other one who is honest and true will find joy, happiness and peace at my Abbey. Redwall will always be here with a welcome for all.
Marjoram, Mother Abbess of Redwall
Abbey in Mossflower Country
The Sable Quean (Redwall) Page 39
