Doomwyte

Abbot Glisam forestalled him, by gathering up the lot. “Of course you will—straight after your kitchen duties, and lunch. Is it still raining outside?”

Umfry poked his spiky head outside the Gatehouse door. “Aye ’eavier than h’ever, Father. We’ll ’ave to put these towels h’over us an’ run for it.”

Carrying the records between them, they donned towels and dashed over the waterlogged lawns, through the pelting, wet curtains of rain.

Abbot Glisam took charge of the volumes and scrolls. Samolus and Umfry went to visit the wine cellars, which were jointly run by Foremole Gullub Gurrpaw and Umfry’s grandfather, Corksnout Spikkle. Old Corksnout was the biggest hedgehog who ever lived, or so they said. An injury in a bygone battle had robbed him of his nose, but the ever resourceful Samolus fashioned him a new one from a keg cork attached by a string to his headspikes. Even Umfry was dwarfed by the size of his grandfather. Bisky and Dwink both reported to Friar Skurpul in the kitchens, where they were assigned duties.

The mole Friar looked them up and down. “Hurr, young uns, you’m bees soaken frum ee rain. Hmm, ’ow wudd ee loike a job on ee warm uvvens, pullen owt breadloaves. That’ll dry ee!”

Gratefully the pair hastened to join the oven crew, and began using long wooden paddles to retrieve freshly baked items. They joined in with their mates, singing what they termed the “Oven Shanty.” Helping on the ovens was a chore enjoyed by all the young Abbeydwellers. Side by side, they wielded the long beech paddles, roaring out the verses lustily, like sea otters aboard ship.

“Vittles don’t get cooked by themselves.

Ho paddle away, mates, paddle away!

Paddle ’em from the hot oven shelves,

then paddle in plenty new vittles oh!

All fresh an’ crusty that’s the job,

Ho paddle away, mates, paddle away!

Each farl an’ loaf or twist an’ cob,

there’s nowt like new baked bread oh!

Step lively now an’ paddle those pies,

Ho paddle away, mates, paddle away!

Some scones for the Abbot, a nice surprise,

an’ maybe a raspberry tart oh!

Who bakes such wunnerful things as these?

Ho paddle away, mates, paddle away!

With onion gravy an’ bubblin’ cheese?

’Tis Redwall’s kitchen crew oh!

So heave an’ ho an’ paddle oh.

Kick open that door an’ load in more,

afore we’re all done paddlin’ oooooooohhhh!”

Frintl placed a big plum cake on Bisky’s paddle. She smiled sheepishly at him. “Sorry I snitched to Brother Torilis about you, I just couldn’t help myself.”

Bisky smiled as he shot the cake along the oven shelf. He wiped a paw across his brow cheerfully. “It turned out pretty well for me, don’t fret, matey!”

4

Contrary to popular hopes, the rain didn’t stop after lunch. If anything it seemed to increase, driven by a gusting east wind. This meant that the young ones, and particularly the Dibbuns, could not play outdoors. The molebabe Dugry and his trusty aide, a tiny squirrelmaid called Furff, were leading a band of their companions to the main Abbey door, until they were confronted by Skipper Rorgus. The brawny otter gave them a comical scowl.

“Shudder me rudder, I’ve caught a band o’ deserters!”

None of the Dibbuns feared Rorgus, they thought he was quite amusing. Furff wrinkled her snub nose at him. “Wot’s bandazerters?”

Rorgus allowed Furff to clamber up until she was perched on his shoulder, then he winked at her. “A band o’ deserters, me liddle darlin’, are scamps who run away when their friends need ’em.”

Molebabe Dugry began the ascent of Skipper’s legs. “Burr, we’m b’aint runnen ’way, zurr, us’ns jus’ loikes t’goo owtsoide an’ get soaked wet in ee rain!”

Rorgus clasped a paw dramatically to his brow. “Haharr, don’t go, mates, ye’ll all be drowned out there. Parts o’ that lawn are flooded deeper’n yore liddle heads. Stay indoors, I begs ye!”

A very tiny mouse spread his paws wide. “I soona get drownded. Wot us do in ’ere, eh, nuthin’!”

Skipper crouched down, looked left and right, squinting one eye, and beckoned them close. He spoke in a secretive whisper to the Dibbun band. “Nothin’? You mean pore ole Skipper’s goin’ t’be all on his own up in that dormitory?”

The very tiny mouse whispered back to Rorgus, “Worra you do up inna dormitty?”

The otter confided in a low, urgent tone, “I gotta ship up there, ready to set sail right away. I’m goin’ on a trip until this rain stops an’ I finds a rainbow. But I needs a crew—anybeast knows where a pore Skipper can find strong, trusty beasts?”

There was an immediate clamour of volunteers. A moment later, Rorgus was labouring up the stairs, laden down by his clinging crew. Abbot Glisam, who had overheard everything, smiled as he watched them go.

“I think our Skipper should keep them amused. You know, I’m not sure who enjoys that otter’s games more, him or the Dibbuns.”

Violet, the jolly hedgehog Sister, shook her head. “A table turned upside down, with one o’ my good bedsheets for a sail. Those liddle uns do ’ave fun!”