Chapter II

From the diary of Hazel Brookberth, historian and recorder of Redwall Abbey in Mossflower country.

"In the shade of a lovely warm afternoon of late spring, I sit here, quill in paw.

The days are slowly lengthening, getting ever closer to the beginning of the Summer of the Flooding Dew. Abbess Willow thought it was most fitting, as one recent morning, on a walk upon the ramparts, she looked out to the plains to see what looked to her like a sea of dew, shimmering in the wind, like the breath of the trade winds upon the sea. As she was once at sea herself, we trusted to her better knowledge. And anyway, it sounded most beautiful and fitting to our ears. On this day, the Dibbuns are out playing in the orchard, running around in their various games. It seems our resident natural disaster, Terry Rivenelg, is out conning the rest of the Dibbuns out of their freshly plucked strawberries, that little rascal! That otter has always had a clever head on his shoulders, albeit a mischievous one. I'm watching him now, smirking at his huge pile of strawberries, while the Dibbuns are sitting there with pebbles. . . I'm not even going to ask him what he did and how; that little one is beyond me. The day is irresistibly sunny and warm, the sky pure and blue, save a few downy clouds that float overhead. All creatures in the Abbey today seem to be in good spirits. . . everybeast is giving compliments and gifts and the like out to their fellow beast. Well, except that Terry, of course. Oh! Would you look at that now! Our badger Aurora is berating Terry mercilessly. I feel rather bad for him, he's a good otter, through it all. I've heard snippets of conversation from some of the elderbeasts, and we may have a surprise banquet soon! I'm so excited, I can almost taste the lovely food now. Friar Fredericke, like all Redwall's chefs, is the leading culinary beast of his time. I shall update on this soon; but right now, I feel it is time to settle down for a nice lunch in the orchard, followed by a lovely spring nap.

Hazel Brookberth, recorder of Redwall Abbey

"How could you have done this?" asked Aurora in a gruff exasperated yell.

"Easy," replied Terry, with a huge grin upon his face.

"That's not what I meant!" shouted Aurora, obviously losing her temper, "I meant how could you bring yourself to trick the Dibbuns into thinking that the pebbles were special seeds that would produce a fruit bigger and tastier than any strawberry?"

"I was hungry, that's how. I was also going to make cordial too, if I could figure it out." Terry added with a wink. At this point, Aurora was too irate to speak, and was obviously trying with all of her might to remain calm. After a minute of deep breathing, she managed to mutter something about punishment as she grabbed Terry's ear tightly before being drowned out by his agonized yowls that seemed to fill the entire abbey. Amidst the pitying stares and exasperating muttering from those that he passed, Terry quieted down and resigned himself to his impending punishment, and even kept space in the back of his mind for his next scheme. An artist must always be mindful of his medium, after all, he thought.