Categories > Books > Redwall > The Wicked Ground
By the next morning, even as the excavation continued, many of the faces in the growing line of the fallen had names associated with them, recorded on the backs of the Friar's uncovered case of recipe cards (he could not object to this manner of recycling, as he required a card of his own) and laid respectfully on top of the lifeless chest of each. In some cases, however, the lack of a need for such a card was more troubling if the name in question had not been uttered in its owner's voice at the first organized roll call on the third day after the quake. There was something both more final and less resolved in these cases, as the weariness of the workers coupled with the thicker piles of rubble moving inward from the Abbey's former walls implied that some bodies might have to remain in the tangled mess for an indeterminably longer period of time.
The Abbot was one such case. With his quarters high up, in order to allow a view of as much of Mossflower Country as the height of Redwall would have provided, it was doubtless that, now as much as ever, he lay somewhere at the very heart of Redwall. The mouse Jacinth was another. Charity could account for her having been in the infirmary, but Aetantim insisted that there had been strange things about in the mezzo's demeanor and that things with her should not be taken as givens. Crysantema, discontent in her torn and unglamorous nightgown, would have been pleased to leave the scene with no word on the mouse, but Enruso broke into fits of drama more frequently than residual aftershocks rolled through, and Maestro Liedswelt insisted upon closure to the matter, even if the body turned out to be too broken to return to its home for a proper burial.
And then there was Andreas. Nobeast had seen tail or whisker of the marten Recorder since the night of the opera, nor any other evidence that he remained alive. The initial neat piles of books he had made after the mainshock had been scattered to a maximum of entropy by the subsequent aftershocks, and in that state of disorder, nobeast was so thorough to note the absence of four volumes. Pawing through the mess of books was easier than pawing through broken stones, but when the marten's body was not found, it was assumed not that he'd escaped, but that he had been somewhere inside the Abbey.
But a Recorder was deemed necessary for such times as these, as Ruta, taking on the Abbot's responsibilities as well as her own, could not also take on that job. There was no time to do an elective search for a replacement, so when a mouse called Wesley offered his services there was no argument. Assisted by several larger creatures, the mouse returned to the jumbled library, heaving the books into further disorder as he searched for the current volume of records.
"You are only making the later job of reassembly more difficult," came a voice that inflected equal amounts of exhaustion, bemusement, and urgency. It was also an indubitably familiar voice, to which Wesley reacted with great relief.
Andreas tapped the top book of the four he held against his chest with one finger. "I have everything here that is important right now, but it needs to make its way out of the books and into common knowledge. Cleaning that can come later. Now, if your aim is to assist me, it would be best to help assemble attention."
Wesley eagerly rose to his footpaws and darted off at the Recorder's bidding, with the pair of squirrels and one hedgehog who had been helping him spreading out in other directions. Andreas' slow and purposeful walk down toward the remaining spire of wall and circle of elders, however, was in itself a powerful drawing force to the busy but weary and scattered Mossfloweites. The marten with the books seemed so definite, more so than any other thing in these past few days had been, that they laid aside their previous tasks to follow him.
At the return of the Recorder, Ruta's tired expression (its stripes perhaps grayer from stress) eased out a smile. "You are our only good news so far," the badger told Andreas. The marten nodded, his gaze drifting beyond Ruta and skimming along the row of deadbeasts that extended beyond the pile of debris that had once been Redwall's back wall. The marten choked a bit at the sight, but fought back a more severe manifestation of grief as the circle of creatures around where he and Ruta stood became thicker with attentive souls.
Being a scholar and a writer, Andreas was not accustomed to making oral presentations, particularly not before an audience of this size. Yet sheer importance outweighed stage fright in his mind, and he licked his dry lips, forced the thoughts of the row of dead bodies away, and began to speak, his baritone voice unpracticed but by no means uncertain.
"I believe I can speak fairly for everyone when I say that the events of the past few days have been very surprising. One simply does not go around expecting an earthquake at every turn, or if one does, then we call him paranoid. No, we were all surprised, and we all have every right in the world to have been.
"However, there is historical precedent for such events as these, even if it is not terribly recent history or a precedent that lingers in the backs of creatures' minds. But that is the purpose of having an Archivist who reads the material - I recalled reading something about tremors once, and the relevance of that reading has shot straight up to the point where it needs to be common knowledge."
Andreas placed one paw on the first of the books, now laid out in a row. "First, we have the events of the Summer of the Golden Plain. These records are, to me, a fascinating read, though they have much to do with the horrors of war and slavery. But the climactic battle of the campaign came after a journey to the southeastern cliffs and ridges and took place in the crevasse down there. Though the slavers were defeated by living creatures, the battle culminated with "dancing cliffs," to quote the Recorder Churchmouse; that could only be a reference to an earthquake. There is also description of the toll this war took on the remnants of Loamhedge Abbey, and how those remains seemed to have suffered the brunt of other quakes before the Redwallers' arrival. Lastly, there is in the appendices of thoughts from the participants in the events, an account that the Stump family had experienced many an earthquake up by the cliffs and had chosen to relocate for that very reason. This shows in particular the frequency of such occurrences."
Andreas shut the first volume and opened a second to a fold-out group of pages that contained and expansive, detailed, and ornate map of the entire region. "Second, we have the cartographic account of the traveling journeyman Lontano. This map still remains one of the most thorough of the area and it contains detail to the most minute focus observable at the time on the features of the land itself, to the point of this taking precedence over creating yet another political map. Lontano's chart contains several curious ridges and valleys, some of them very linear. Straight lines in nature are suspect things, and that Lontano mentions that he felt a shift in the ground only supports my point further.
"So, I repeat, we have a definite historical precedence toward earthquakes, and I for one am determined to pinpoint the cause of these cataclysms. After all, it is only when we have some understanding for Nature - since we clearly have more respect for it now than ever - that we can adapt to its possibilities an rebuild accordingly. To come out of this without an effort to understand would not only be a complacent and quick fix, but it would be near criminal to rebuild without trying to make things safer."
At all the talk of the word "rebuild," the crowd began to whisper and murmur and cast many uneasy glances toward the remains of Redwall.
"Good that I have your attention," Andreas continued. "Any search for understanding must start with what we do know, as I have just presented to you. It works the same way with physical features. I would like to have an expedition to search out and delineate the path of destruction with the goal of finding its source, and I feel there is no better place to start looking than the southern cliffs, where the precedent was set.
"Now, this may be my initiative, but it is an expedition that applies to all of you, as you are all here listening because the earthquake so intruded upon your lives. While I may know the history, I am no all-exhaustive expert. For that sake, for objectivity's sake, and for safety's sake, I would like several creatures to accompany me. There may be no cryptic rhymes or swords, but this is the most important riddle facing us right now." Andreas concluded his speech and rested his forepaws on the two books he had just presented, gazing out over the murmuring crowd.
With surprisingly little hesitation, Hayward the hare sprang out of the sea of anonymity and came up to Andreas' side. "I say, count me in any day, I'll take a quest over a battle right out, wot wot!" The hare tipped an ear toward the marten "And asides, Walden and I came across some bally strange things on our jaunt over from Salamandastron. I'd bet a billion to one that they tie right in to your project, and I can show you where they are. Hayward Hollister at your service, sah!"
As Hayward enlisted himself, Elsinore pushed her way out of the audience as well, not as fast as the hare but as every bit as purposeful. Andreas smiled gently at the mole as she spoke. "Zurr Andras, oi volunteer moi services. Oi know a fair bit abaout rocks, and the graound still nearly swallowed me aloive. Oi would like to know why." Elsinore nodded and stood by Hayward.
"Anyone else?" Andreas offered. Any chance of an immediate response was cut short by a brief shake and a groaning and cracking from the direction of Redwall. Many of the aftershocks to this point had been larger than this one, but its two seconds were still enough to drive home a point.
At the sound of the cracking, Garlock sprang reflexively forward, fear actually illuminating a point in his mind. Here was a chance to understand what had happened to his Falla, while also doing service to Mossflower that would earn their service in return without requiring him to deal with more than three beasts who were not his concern. The ferret approached the expedition group and extended a stiff paw to Andreas. "I am Garlock of Darkhill. My town was leveled, and I will come with you."
Andreas shook the paw, content with the size of the party. "Thank you," he addressed Hayward, Elsinore, and Garlock. "Thank you," again to the larger crowd. "We'll leave as soon as we can pull together, and while it is possible that the trail will bring is back here in passing before the investigation is complete, I hope to be able to show you a mark on a map to explain this by the time we take up residence here again."
The Abbot was one such case. With his quarters high up, in order to allow a view of as much of Mossflower Country as the height of Redwall would have provided, it was doubtless that, now as much as ever, he lay somewhere at the very heart of Redwall. The mouse Jacinth was another. Charity could account for her having been in the infirmary, but Aetantim insisted that there had been strange things about in the mezzo's demeanor and that things with her should not be taken as givens. Crysantema, discontent in her torn and unglamorous nightgown, would have been pleased to leave the scene with no word on the mouse, but Enruso broke into fits of drama more frequently than residual aftershocks rolled through, and Maestro Liedswelt insisted upon closure to the matter, even if the body turned out to be too broken to return to its home for a proper burial.
And then there was Andreas. Nobeast had seen tail or whisker of the marten Recorder since the night of the opera, nor any other evidence that he remained alive. The initial neat piles of books he had made after the mainshock had been scattered to a maximum of entropy by the subsequent aftershocks, and in that state of disorder, nobeast was so thorough to note the absence of four volumes. Pawing through the mess of books was easier than pawing through broken stones, but when the marten's body was not found, it was assumed not that he'd escaped, but that he had been somewhere inside the Abbey.
But a Recorder was deemed necessary for such times as these, as Ruta, taking on the Abbot's responsibilities as well as her own, could not also take on that job. There was no time to do an elective search for a replacement, so when a mouse called Wesley offered his services there was no argument. Assisted by several larger creatures, the mouse returned to the jumbled library, heaving the books into further disorder as he searched for the current volume of records.
"You are only making the later job of reassembly more difficult," came a voice that inflected equal amounts of exhaustion, bemusement, and urgency. It was also an indubitably familiar voice, to which Wesley reacted with great relief.
Andreas tapped the top book of the four he held against his chest with one finger. "I have everything here that is important right now, but it needs to make its way out of the books and into common knowledge. Cleaning that can come later. Now, if your aim is to assist me, it would be best to help assemble attention."
Wesley eagerly rose to his footpaws and darted off at the Recorder's bidding, with the pair of squirrels and one hedgehog who had been helping him spreading out in other directions. Andreas' slow and purposeful walk down toward the remaining spire of wall and circle of elders, however, was in itself a powerful drawing force to the busy but weary and scattered Mossfloweites. The marten with the books seemed so definite, more so than any other thing in these past few days had been, that they laid aside their previous tasks to follow him.
At the return of the Recorder, Ruta's tired expression (its stripes perhaps grayer from stress) eased out a smile. "You are our only good news so far," the badger told Andreas. The marten nodded, his gaze drifting beyond Ruta and skimming along the row of deadbeasts that extended beyond the pile of debris that had once been Redwall's back wall. The marten choked a bit at the sight, but fought back a more severe manifestation of grief as the circle of creatures around where he and Ruta stood became thicker with attentive souls.
Being a scholar and a writer, Andreas was not accustomed to making oral presentations, particularly not before an audience of this size. Yet sheer importance outweighed stage fright in his mind, and he licked his dry lips, forced the thoughts of the row of dead bodies away, and began to speak, his baritone voice unpracticed but by no means uncertain.
"I believe I can speak fairly for everyone when I say that the events of the past few days have been very surprising. One simply does not go around expecting an earthquake at every turn, or if one does, then we call him paranoid. No, we were all surprised, and we all have every right in the world to have been.
"However, there is historical precedent for such events as these, even if it is not terribly recent history or a precedent that lingers in the backs of creatures' minds. But that is the purpose of having an Archivist who reads the material - I recalled reading something about tremors once, and the relevance of that reading has shot straight up to the point where it needs to be common knowledge."
Andreas placed one paw on the first of the books, now laid out in a row. "First, we have the events of the Summer of the Golden Plain. These records are, to me, a fascinating read, though they have much to do with the horrors of war and slavery. But the climactic battle of the campaign came after a journey to the southeastern cliffs and ridges and took place in the crevasse down there. Though the slavers were defeated by living creatures, the battle culminated with "dancing cliffs," to quote the Recorder Churchmouse; that could only be a reference to an earthquake. There is also description of the toll this war took on the remnants of Loamhedge Abbey, and how those remains seemed to have suffered the brunt of other quakes before the Redwallers' arrival. Lastly, there is in the appendices of thoughts from the participants in the events, an account that the Stump family had experienced many an earthquake up by the cliffs and had chosen to relocate for that very reason. This shows in particular the frequency of such occurrences."
Andreas shut the first volume and opened a second to a fold-out group of pages that contained and expansive, detailed, and ornate map of the entire region. "Second, we have the cartographic account of the traveling journeyman Lontano. This map still remains one of the most thorough of the area and it contains detail to the most minute focus observable at the time on the features of the land itself, to the point of this taking precedence over creating yet another political map. Lontano's chart contains several curious ridges and valleys, some of them very linear. Straight lines in nature are suspect things, and that Lontano mentions that he felt a shift in the ground only supports my point further.
"So, I repeat, we have a definite historical precedence toward earthquakes, and I for one am determined to pinpoint the cause of these cataclysms. After all, it is only when we have some understanding for Nature - since we clearly have more respect for it now than ever - that we can adapt to its possibilities an rebuild accordingly. To come out of this without an effort to understand would not only be a complacent and quick fix, but it would be near criminal to rebuild without trying to make things safer."
At all the talk of the word "rebuild," the crowd began to whisper and murmur and cast many uneasy glances toward the remains of Redwall.
"Good that I have your attention," Andreas continued. "Any search for understanding must start with what we do know, as I have just presented to you. It works the same way with physical features. I would like to have an expedition to search out and delineate the path of destruction with the goal of finding its source, and I feel there is no better place to start looking than the southern cliffs, where the precedent was set.
"Now, this may be my initiative, but it is an expedition that applies to all of you, as you are all here listening because the earthquake so intruded upon your lives. While I may know the history, I am no all-exhaustive expert. For that sake, for objectivity's sake, and for safety's sake, I would like several creatures to accompany me. There may be no cryptic rhymes or swords, but this is the most important riddle facing us right now." Andreas concluded his speech and rested his forepaws on the two books he had just presented, gazing out over the murmuring crowd.
With surprisingly little hesitation, Hayward the hare sprang out of the sea of anonymity and came up to Andreas' side. "I say, count me in any day, I'll take a quest over a battle right out, wot wot!" The hare tipped an ear toward the marten "And asides, Walden and I came across some bally strange things on our jaunt over from Salamandastron. I'd bet a billion to one that they tie right in to your project, and I can show you where they are. Hayward Hollister at your service, sah!"
As Hayward enlisted himself, Elsinore pushed her way out of the audience as well, not as fast as the hare but as every bit as purposeful. Andreas smiled gently at the mole as she spoke. "Zurr Andras, oi volunteer moi services. Oi know a fair bit abaout rocks, and the graound still nearly swallowed me aloive. Oi would like to know why." Elsinore nodded and stood by Hayward.
"Anyone else?" Andreas offered. Any chance of an immediate response was cut short by a brief shake and a groaning and cracking from the direction of Redwall. Many of the aftershocks to this point had been larger than this one, but its two seconds were still enough to drive home a point.
At the sound of the cracking, Garlock sprang reflexively forward, fear actually illuminating a point in his mind. Here was a chance to understand what had happened to his Falla, while also doing service to Mossflower that would earn their service in return without requiring him to deal with more than three beasts who were not his concern. The ferret approached the expedition group and extended a stiff paw to Andreas. "I am Garlock of Darkhill. My town was leveled, and I will come with you."
Andreas shook the paw, content with the size of the party. "Thank you," he addressed Hayward, Elsinore, and Garlock. "Thank you," again to the larger crowd. "We'll leave as soon as we can pull together, and while it is possible that the trail will bring is back here in passing before the investigation is complete, I hope to be able to show you a mark on a map to explain this by the time we take up residence here again."
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