Dawn’s half-light was barely peeping over windowsills when the young squirrel Butty pounded on Tansy’s bedroom door. Pulling the coverlet over her head, Tansy complained in a sleep-muffled moan, “Go ’way, ’taint light yet, I’ve only just closed my eyes!”

But the new Friar persisted, thumping the door and shouting, “Mother Abbess, marm, new owlbabes have arrived in our kitchens! Oh, please come quick, I dunno what t’do!”

Tansy’s footpaws found her old slippers as she threw on a dressing gown and dashed to the door.

“Rouse Sister Viola, Mother Buscol, and Craklyn, and bring ’em straight down to the kitchens. Go quickly and try not to waken the others!”

Completely in a dither, Butty raced off, yelling aloud, “Owl babies! Just arrived in the kitchens! New little ’uns!”

Abbess Tansy peered around the half-open cupboard door. From beneath Orocca’s fearsome talons, three sets of massive golden eyes stared unblinkingly back at her. All of Redwall, clad in a variety of nightshirts, tasseled caps, dressing gowns, old sandals, and slippers, packed into the kitchens, hopping up and down eagerly to catch a glimpse of the new arrivals.

Mother Buscol complimented the owl on her eggchicks: “My my, wot beautiful liddle birds. They’ve got yore eyes, too!”

A brief smile flitted across Orocca’s solemn features. “Thank you, Buscol. These are my first brood, and I’m glad they’re all fit and well. My husband, Taunoc, will be pleased, when he eventually gets to see them.”

Craklyn raised her eyebrows in surprise. “Taunoc hasn’t seen his babes yet? Where is he?”

Orocca lifted her talons, allowing the chicks to stumble forward. “Poor Taunoc was in a worse tizz than that young squirrel of yours. The moment he heard eggshells cracking he took off in a fluster, muttering about hunting to feed five beaks now. He’ll be back.”

The Little Owls were mere fuzzballs, with eyes practically larger than their bodies. When they were not dumbling and stumbling to stay upright, they were huddling together to keep their balance. Orocca knocked the door open wide with a sweep of her wing.

Now all the Redwallers could see the three chicks clearly, there were exclamations of delight, particularly from the Dibbuns, whom Skipper and his otters had lifted onto their shoulders so they could get a clear view.

“Burr, can they’m owlyburds coom out t’play with us’n’s?”

“Why don’t they say noffink yet?”

“’Ello, likkle owlyburds, d’you want some brekkfist?”

Viola Bankvole, keeping a safe distance from Orocca, took charge. “A sensible idea, why don’t we all go in to breakfast and leave Orocca to clean up her nest?”

Viola and Tansy ushered the crowd out, while Mother Buscol and Gurrbowl Cellarmole stayed behind to help the owls.

*

Skipper of Otters whacked his tail down hard upon the tabletop. “Stow the gab now, mateys, yore Abbess wants a word!”

Nodding thanks to Skipper, the Abbess tucked paws into her dressing-gown sleeves and stood to address the Redwallers. “Listen carefully now—this won’t take long. Summer’s nearly here, ’tis a beautiful day outside, so here’s my plan. I say we cancel all work and worries until tomorrow, and let today be one of feasting and celebration for the three little lives that have arrived into our Abbey. A triple birthday party out in the orchard!”

Cheers of joy rang to the rafters of Great Hall.

*

Brother Ginko was Redwall’s Bellringer. Today he didn’t stand below and pull on the ropes; instead, he climbed the stairs to the steepletop chamber, stood on the beams between the two bells, and operated them by pushing with both paws. The warm brazen sounds rang out over Mossflower.

Larks took to the meadow air, and woodland birds fluttered out over the green tree canopy, adding their morning songs to the bell tones rising into a bright sunlit sky.

Below in the line of trees skirting the east ramparts, a furtive figure slunk close to the wall’s edge. Rinkul the ferret, last of the vermin band being pursued by the hares, fled south along the woodland edge. Dried swamp mud clung to his matted fur as he hurried on, chewing roots and berries and casting fearful glances backward. Rinkul hoped the bells were not ringing to denote that he had been spotted—he could see the figure of Brother Ginko framed against the open arches of the steeple chamber. He held still awhile, then, satisfied he had not been detected, Rinkul left the shelter of the Abbey wall to cut off over the south common lands, where he could see a stream that would provide him with drinking water.

With the sun warm upon his back and the bells booming in his ears, the ferret lay flat on his stomach, drinking greedily of the fresh stream water. After a while he rose into a crouch, checking that he was still alone. He stared hard and long at what he saw. It seemed incredible, but he trusted the evidence of his own keen sight. Redwall’s battlemented south ramparts were collapsing. The line of high, thick masonry had been breached by the fall of a massive tree, and farther along, the wall dipped and leaned inward, as if messed about by some colossal paw.

Rinkul backed into the shallows, still staring at the fractured outer wall. Following the stream course southeast to hide his tracks, he tucked Russa Nodrey’s hardwood stick into his belt.

“Got to find the Rapscallion armies,” he muttered delightedly to himself. “This information’ll make me an officer, a Rapmark!”

Brother Ginko had his back to the fleeing ferret. He shielded his eyes and stared hard at the two figures loping steadily down the path from the north toward the Abbey. Hares—it was two hares!

Halting the toll of one bell, he continued ringing the other singly, warning of creatures approaching. Skipper and Shad came racing out of the Abbey, hard on the heels of Arven, who was belting on the great sword of Martin the Warrior.

The squirrel Champion cupped both paws around his mouth and yelled upward, “Strangebeasts on the path, Ginko?”

The Bellringer leaned outward, pointing. “Aye, two hares come out o’ the north!”

The look of concern melted from Skipper’s tough face, to be replaced by one of comic dismay. “Did you say ’ares, messmate? Lock up the vittles an’ stan’ by fer a famine, prepare to be eaten outta ’ouse’n’ome!”

Breaking cover from the woodlands, Tammo stared excitedly at the soaring towers and gables of the red sandstone building farther down the path. Pasque’s voice at his side echoed both their thoughts.

“Golly, is that Redwall Abbey? ’Tis even bigger’n I thought it’d jolly well be. What a beautiful sight!”

Sergeant Torgoch kept his eyes ahead as he said, “None more luvverly, miss! Right, fall inter twos an’ let’s see us marchin’ up there like Long Patrol an’ not a bunch o’ waddlin’ ducks on daisy day! Chins up, chests out, shoulders back, tails twitchin’ smartly! Keep up at the back there, Grang!”

The giant hare Rockjaw Grang was carrying the baby badger in a sling across his chest. He frowned at the Sergeant. “Beggin’ thy pardon, Sarge, but could y’keep thy voice down? Sithee, ah’ve just gotten yon tyke asleep for his mornin’ nap!”

Major Perigord, who was marching at the head of the column, smiled whimsically at the thought of Rockjaw as a nursemaid. “Don’t fret, Rock. If Galloper Riffle an’ Turry are already there, they’ll have no shortage of blinkin’ badgerminders t’take the little ’un off y’paws, then you can sit down to a good ol’ tuck-in with the rest o’ the chaps, wot?”

A dreamy look crossed Rockjaw’s face as he wiped a paw across his lips. “Redwall Abbey vittles, by ’eck, lead me to ’em!”