The Bellmaker

37

Pennants and gaily colored streamers fluttered on high from every tower of Castle Floret. Below the plateau, every creature in Southsward sat feasting on the valley floor. The plateau steps were garlanded with flowers and green boughs; squirrel choirs sang, young ones danced and played, older ones dozed peacefully in the warm noontide.

Muta danced, too, and perched upon her shoulders the little squirrel prince Truffen laughed and clapped his paws. Queen Serena watched them as she sat upon the steps with her friends Rab Streambattle and Iris.

“Muta has had my Truffen on her shoulders since first light. Do you think shell ever let him down again?

Iris laughed as she watched the antics of the two. “Dyou think hell ever let her, the rascal? Theres nothin he likes better than bein carried about all day by her, eh, Rab?

Her mate sprawled lazily across the steps. “Mutas happy; shes no longer a fugitive, or a berserk slayer. They both deserve their happiness.

Log-a-Log and Blerun marched up with both their tribes in tow. Sitting themselves between Foremole and Weldan, they accepted beakers of blackberry cordial.

The shrew Chieftain unbuckled his rapier and put it to one side. “Ah well, thats the horderat prisoners gone. We shoved em aboard one o their ships an pointed them off to the open sea. They come back under pain of death, I told em.

Egbert the Scholar sat a few steps above them, surrounded by Furrp and his tribe and Foremole. They inspected the huge medal he wore about his neck.

“Burr, et be a vurry noice thing, zurr Hegbutt, said Furrp. “Urr, wot be et furr?

Egbert felt very important as he explained to the rustic moles. “This is my symbol of office. By royal appointment, I am now Castle Librarian and Archivist of Floret, Official Recorder for Southsward Country and Dynastic Concordance Coordinator to the House of Gael.

Furrp scratched his snout with a heavy digging paw. “Gudd luck to ee, zurr. Oi wuddent sleep wi* a gurt eavy medal an a name long as a wuirms tail loik that, hurr no! Egbert sat with a look of injured dignity as the moles all fell about chuckling.

The four leverets and Bowly Pintips were demolishing a weighty plumcake, listening to their uncle Meldrum and Hon Rosie as they discovered ancestral connections.

“Hmm, Woodsorrel ysay, marmnot one of the Long Patrol Westshore Woodsorrels, by any chance?

“Whoohahahooh! The very fellowsthats my Tar-quins branch of the family. Dyou know them, Meldrum?

“Know em? Listen, mdear, my great-uncle Bracken was the head of the bunch, marvelous old cove. They called him Bracken the Brave, yknow.

“Did they indeed? Thats not what my Tarquin told me. He said the story goes that Bracken told so many fibs about his exploits, that the Long Patrol nicknamed him Old Bracken the Blowbag. Whoohahahooh, good name, wot?

Amid the laughter that followed young Foghill piped up, “I say, Uncle Mel, your ears have gone all red!

Meldrum the Magnificent addressed his nephew sternly. “Never mind my ears, you young pup. Whatve I told you about callin me Uncle Mel? Confined tbar-racks for two days, sah, for incorrectly referrin to a senior officer!

Joseph lay full stretch in the soft grass of the valley floor, shaded by a rowan. He was watching Durry Quill and some young shrews who had borrowed Mariels Gull-whacker and made a swing from the branches of a sycamore. Rufe Brush sat by Joseph, his eyes red from weeping. The Bellmaker nudged the young squirrel gently. “Come on, Rufey, how about a smile for an old gray-beard?

Rufe stared at the daisies that brightened the grassy shade. “I cant get Patch out of my mind; Ill never forget him.

Joseph saw a teardrop spill from Rufes cheek to the grass. “I should hope you never will forget Patch, he said. “He was a brave shrew to give his life for you. Ill bet wherever he is now he must be in a fine old temper.

Rufe rubbed a paw across his eyes and sniffed. “Why would Patch be in a temper, Joseph?

The Bellmaker plucked a dockleaf and gave it to his young friend. “Here, wipe your face; Ill tell you why. Patch gave his life so that you could live on and enjoy yours. If I were Patch Id be in a real temper now, knowing that you were not enjoying the life Id given you, sitting weeping amid the joys of freedom on a summer day.

Durry Quill had been listening from a distance. Now he trundled up and stood looking down at the Bellmaker. “Youre right, sir, an ole Finnbarr would be in an even worser mood lookin at your facetis more miserable than a frog whos swallered a bumblebee. Come on, you two, lets play on the swing!

“Look out, Durry!

A young shrew had swung the wrong way. He came spinning in on the rope, knocking Durry ears over tip into Joseph and Rufe, and now all three lay in a heap.

Joseph sat up glaring at the swinging shrew, then he began to chuckle. Rufe tried to sit up and fell back onto Durry; the hedgehog pushed him off. “Gerroff me, ygreat Rufey lump!

Rufe could not resist the smile spreading across his face. “Fat wettysnout pricklybottom cakeface!

All three stood up laughing heartily. Joseph dashed off toward the rope, shouting, “Me first. You two are so fat youd burst the swing!

They raced after him giggling.

“You great big Dibbun!

“Wait11 we tell Mariel you was playin swings!

Afternoon drifted on in a warm, summery haze. Gael Squirrelking supervised the lowering of the drawbridge that Deekeye and Weldan had repaired. Gael looked anything but a king as he sat on the edge of the bridge with his newly adopted young ones, Wincey, Benjy, and Figgs, competing to see who could skim flat pebbles the farthest along the moat.

Dusk fell like a velvet mantle, and by the light of myriad lanterns twinkling across the valley Mariel paced out an area by the dip, where the final battle had been fought.

“Here, this is where the monument shall stand! she announced.

Joseph, Gawjun the hedgehog, and Blerun the otter stood forward from the crowd who had gathered to watch. Gawjun pointed out a hill. “Yonder stands a great boulder on the hilltop. Blerun, thy tribe can roll it down here. Together we will set it straight and hew it with chisels. Egbert shall write the words to be carved upon it.

Joseph stared up at the boulder perched on the hill. “And I shall stay and make a bell to crown it. Each dawn it will ring out to honor the courage of those creatures who gave their lives to free Southsward from the Foxwolf and his horde. Their memory will live on into legend!