Dawn arrived as if it were aware
Previous night's events. Heavy grey skies and steady rain prevailed over Redwall and the Mossflower area.
Abbot Mortimer looked old and stern as he addressed the assembly in Cavern Hole. The atmosphere was decidedly subdued.
"Sleeping at your posts, allowing the enemy into our Abbey to steal that which we hold most dear! Is this the way you defend us?" The Abbot's shoulders slumped wearily. There was an awkward hush - anger and guilt lay thick upon the air. The kindly old mouse shook his head and held up a conciliatory paw.
- "Forgive me, friends, 1 criticize you unjustly. We are all creatures of peace, unskilled in the art of war. Yet when I saw the late rose this morning, I could not help but notice mat its leaves are all shriveled; the tiny rosebuds have died. Martin the Warrior is gone from our Abbey. He has left Redwall. We are forsaken. There will be hard and sorrowful days to come without him among us."
- The mice and woodland creatures shuffled their feet and ~gazed at the floor. They knew the truth in their Father Abbot's words. But hope springs eternal. There was one voice raised, that of Matthias:
- "A bit of good news," he said. "1 have just come from the ^infirmary. Mr. Fieldmouse is out of danger. He will live." ? The relief was audible throughout Cavern Hole. Tensions were eased; even the Abbot temporarily forgot his gloomy predictions.
Abbot Mortimer looked old and stern as he addressed the assembly in Cavern Hole. The atmosphere was decidedly subdued.
"Sleeping at your posts, allowing the enemy into our Abbey to steal that which we hold most dear! Is this the way you defend us?" The Abbot's shoulders slumped wearily. There was an awkward hush - anger and guilt lay thick upon the air. The kindly old mouse shook his head and held up a conciliatory paw.
- "Forgive me, friends, 1 criticize you unjustly. We are all creatures of peace, unskilled in the art of war. Yet when I saw the late rose this morning, I could not help but notice mat its leaves are all shriveled; the tiny rosebuds have died. Martin the Warrior is gone from our Abbey. He has left Redwall. We are forsaken. There will be hard and sorrowful days to come without him among us."
- The mice and woodland creatures shuffled their feet and ~gazed at the floor. They knew the truth in their Father Abbot's words. But hope springs eternal. There was one voice raised, that of Matthias:
- "A bit of good news," he said. "1 have just come from the ^infirmary. Mr. Fieldmouse is out of danger. He will live." ? The relief was audible throughout Cavern Hole. Tensions were eased; even the Abbot temporarily forgot his gloomy predictions.
