Mattimeo Part 14

this. We'll push forward fast and see if we can't spring our own ambush, but Jabez is right, stay together."

A half-moon threw its pale light down into the hilly canyon, making eerie shadows as it played with the breeze stirring the stunted trees that grew amid the rocky foothills. Matthias marched silently in the lead, the fur at me back of his neck rising stiffly with the feeling of hidden danger. Orlando dropped to the rear and walked with a sideways shuffle, checking behind them as he gripped his huge war axe low on its haft, ready to swing Eke a deadly scythe at any back stabbers.

Perched high on the tor of the hill beside a large mound of rocky rubble, Slagar whispered to Bageye, "Where are they now? Can you see them?"

Tiie stoat nodded. "I can make out the shape of their group. They've entered the canyon now. See, by those juniper bushes, and they're heading this way."

The Cruel One pulled the eyeslits of the silken hood wide around his eyes. "Ah yes, thaf s our little friends, all right. Now keep perfectly still and have those poles ready to paw. When I give the order, follow my lead."

Skinpaw crouched behind Slagar with his paw resting on the long pole that was lodged beneath the rocky pile.

Without looking back, Slagar hissed. "Get your scurvy paw off that pole, you idiot. I don't want even a speck of dust to fall and betray our position."

The weasel withdrew his paw swiftly.

Down in the canyon, Cheek made a bound forward. Jess grabbed him by the tail. "Where are you off to, little waterdog?" "It's a river. See the moonlight glinting off it? Lemme g-" Basil wagged an admonitory ear at the garrulous otter.

"Steady in the ranks there, young Cheek. This is no time to go swimmin'. Where d'you think you are, at an otters' divin' gala?" Jabez cast around by the river's edge. "They camped 153.

here, for sure. See, some of the damp pawmarks are still visible. Now, lef s see where they'd be movin' from here." The untidy hedgehog rummaged about, snuffling and grunting quietly. "There! Yonder cave is the perfect place to stay the night."

Matthias peered at the dark cave entrance silhouetted against the lighter hillside scree in the thin moonlight.

"You're right, Jabez. The good thing about it is it looks as if there's only one way in or out. We'll get as close as we can, then rush it. Be careful how you strike in there, we don't want to injure any young ones. Cheek, you could come in useful there. Do you think you could get the captives out of the cave, away from the battle?"

The otter withdrew his tail from Jess's paw and gave a salute. "Of course, I promise you they'll be safe, Matthias."

Basil nudged Orlando. "Very good, top-note, wot? Our Cheek shaped up like a proper warrior to that. I knew in me heart there was somethin' good about that young rip. I was right, give him somethin' positive f do an' he turns up trumps. Mentioned in dispatches, Cheek, m'laddo!"

Orlando turned to Matthias, his eyes beginning to glint red. "The masked fox is mine, warrior/'

"Only if you find him first, friend."

"Agreed. What are we waiting for?"

"Not a thing. Lef s go!"

The great sword of Redwall and the battleaxe of the Western Plain swung aloft like twin cold fires in the moongleam.

"Redwaaaaaalllll!"

"Eulaliaaaaa!"

"Mossflowerrrrrr, give 'em blood'n'vinegar!"

Three things happened at once.

The searchers' war party thundered into the cave, swinging and yelling.

Seven fugitive heads popped up out of the water at the sounds of their parents and friends.

Three pairs of enemy paws heaved the poles upwards, sending a landslide of earth, rock, scree and soil hurtling downwards over the mouth of the cave.

154.

21.

Beeswax candles glimmered late in Cavern Hole.

Cornflower, Winifred, Foremole and baby Rollo sat at table with the Abbot and Constance. The slim stone tablet lay on a folded towel to prevent any damage.

Over a supper of mushroom soup, apple and celery-sKce, hazelnut bread and hotspice herb beverage, Cornflower had related the strange tale, not forgetting the part baby Rollo had played.

Abbot Mordalfus shook his head in wonderment. "Marvelous! You found the tomb of our Founder, Abbess Germaine, thanks to baby Rollo. Sometimes the gift of an inquisitive nature to the young can be greater than that of the wisdom which comes of age. I trust you put the stone back when you left."

Foremole tugged his snout respectfully. "Hurr, 'deed oi did zurr, she'm all shut in again naow."

"Pity, I'd have loved to see it, just once," Mordalfus sighed.

Constance indicated the tablet with an impatient paw. "Please, can we get on with this? What does the writing say on the stone?"

Winifred threw up her paws in despair. "It says nothing, blow me sails! There's only a lot of funny scratches on it."

155.

The Abbot studied the strange marks, focusing through the small square spectacles perched on the end of his nose. "Wonderful! Amazing! A perfect example of ancient Loamscript." *

Constance scratched her headstripes. "Loamscript, what in the name of fur and feathers is Loamscript?"

'Tut, tut, Constance/' Mordalfus said, without taking his eyes from the stone tablet. "I see you have forgotten all the history lessons you learned as a young one. Who was your teacher and what were you told about the beginning of Redwall history?"

Constance frowned. She drummed paws on the table-top and looked at die ceiling for inspiration. It was not too long in coming. "Er, er, it was Sister Garnet. No, it was Methuselah. Ah yes, good old Brother Methuselah. Haha, he used to look at me over die top of his gla.s.ses just the way you do, Abbot. I remember he often tweaked my whiskers if I dozed off on a sunny afternoon at lessons in the orchard. Ah, but that was more seasons ago man I care to remember."

The Abbot smiled fondly at Constance. "Then let me refresh your memory, you dozy badger. Redwall Abbey was founded after the war of the wildcats by Martin the Warrior, who came from the northlands, and Abbess Germaine, who travelled with a band of woodland mice from a place called Loamhedge. Apparently they were driven from there by some sort of plague. Old Methuselah had a book written by one of Germaine's followers in Loamscript. Now, as I remember there was only one other creature who was clever enough to learn Loam-script from Methuselah. A t.i.ttle churchmouse named John. . . ."

Cornflower sprang up. "What? You mean John Churchmouse, our recorder?"

The Abbot folded his spectacles away into his wide sleeve, chuckling. "The very same! Cornflower, do you think you could go and rouse him?"

Winifred picked up the snoring form of baby Rollo 156.

from his chair. "I'll come with you," the otter volunteered. "It's time this bundle o'-mischief was tucked away for the night." They hurried off to the dormitories.

John Churchmouse came down with Cornflower and Winifred. He nodded almost apologetically to those around the table.

"Couldn't sleep, /see, 1 don't sleep much these nights, thinking of my Tess and Tim and wondering if Matthias and the others have found them yet."

Mordalfus slid the tablet across to him. "Sit down, John. Here's something that may help to bring your young ones back. It's written in Loamscript. Can you read it?"

John stroked his whiskers. "Well, ifs a long time since I read any Loamscript. Many, many seasons ago. Haha, that was when Methusaleh used to tell me about this sleepy young badger in his da.s.s, what was her name now . . , ?"

Constance tapped the table with a blunt paw. "Never mind, prize scholar. Get on with it."

John winked at Cornflower. "Righto, I'll give it a try. Could I borrow your gla.s.ses, please. Father Abbot? I left mine by the bedside."

With the Abbot's spectacles perched upon his nose, the churchmouse picked up the stone tablet and moved a candle nearer to help him. His lips moved silently and he stroked his whiskers a lot. Sometimes shaking his head or nodding it knowingly, he traced the strange-shaped writing. Finally he placed the tablet down on the table. Cupping his chin in his paws, he stared dreamily off into s.p.a.ce.

Five voices inquired aloud with impatience, "Well?"

"Oh, ah, yes. Sorry, funny how it all comes back to you, isn't it? HKyou know, when I first looked at the stone ft didn't mean a thing to me, it might well have been written in b.u.t.terflyese. Then suddenly it was clear as a stream in spring."

157.

The Abbot leaned forward until his nose was near touching that of the churchmouse. "John, you can be a singularly annoying creature at times. Would you please read us the translation. Now!"

Immediately, John adjusted the gla.s.ses, coughed and began reading.

"Through the seasons, here I lie, 'neath this Redwall that we made. Solve the mystery, you must try, Graven deep it will not fade. Somewhere 'twixt our earth and sky. Birds and gentle breezes roam. There a key you might espy. To that place I once called home. Take this graven page and seek What my words in stone could mean What can't fly, yet has a beak, Mixed up letters evergreen. Two Bees, two Ohs One Sea, one tap. And weary without A. Leave me now to my long rest, Good fortune on your way."

Around the table they sat in silence, awed at the beauty and mystery of the ancient verse, until Cornflower shifted her chair noisily and destroyed the mood.

"Thank you, Mr. Churchmouse. Very pretty, I'm sure, but what does it all mean?"

Constance rubbed her weary eyes. "It means we've got a long complicated riddle to solve. Not tonight, though. I'm all for sleeping at this late hour."

John Churchmouse returned the Abbof s spectacles. "I'll second that. If s all very exciting, but I think we'd best sleep on it. Tomorrow morning will bring dear minds with a fresh approach."

The Abbot rose slowly, stretching and yawning.

158.

"Tomorrow morning, then, out in the orchard where there's sun and shade. Goodnight, all."

After they had gone, Cornflower remained sitting at the table with the stone tablet in front of her. Carefully she turned it this way and that, studying the curious Loamscript, tracing it carefully with her paw. Some secret instinct deep inside her said that there was more to the thin stone slab than John had discovered in the writing. But what?

159.

22.

A ma.s.sive slide of earth, soil, shale and scree mixed with huge boulders that had torn away a section of the hillside from top to bottom lay squarely across the cave entrance, trapping Matthias and his friends tight inside the cavern.

On top of the hill, Slagar and his cohorts were surprised and shaken by the scale of the landslide they had caused. Clouds of choking dust arose in the silvery moonlight around them. Bageye and Skinpaw buried their faces against the earth, scared to move. The masked fox lifted the bottom of the hood and spat gritty dust. He was about to howl his triumph at the night sky when Mattimeo and the escaped captives heaved themselves from the water and dashed towards the mound of debris with shouts of dismay.

Slagar grabbed Bageye and Skinpaw by their tails and dragged them swiftly back, down the opposite side of the hill.

"Ow! Ouch! Leggo, Chief!"

"Arrgh! Yer pullin' me tail off!"

The Cruel One cuffed them soundly about the ears. "Silence, idiots! Where did they come from?"

"Where did who come from?"

"Mattimeo and his lot. They're down there now, trying 160.

to unblock the cave entrance."

"I never saw 'em. Chief."

"You wouldn't, muckbrain. You and your crony were too busy kissing the ground."

"They musf ve escaped. We'll go down there and round mem up, eh. Chief."

"Blockhead, there's not enough of us to capture 'em all. They'd scatter away like a shot. How could three of us catch seven of them, idiot! Listen, I'll stay here and keep an eye on mem, you two get running and catch up with the others. Tell Threedaws and Halftail to chain the rest of the prisoners up and stay with 'em, men bring the rest back here. Do it quietly, and we'll surround our little friends down there so none of them will escape a second time."

"Righto, but what if they manage to dig their friends out of that cave while we're away?"

"Don't talk rubbish," Slagar sn.i.g.g.e.red. "Nothing on earth could move that lot. It isn't a cave any more, if s a grave. Now get going and bring the rest back here quickly. When you get back, lie low, stay silent, and wait until I g^ve the signal."

Bageye and Skinpaw trotted off into the moonlit forest.

Slagar ripped off his patterned silk headmask and breathed deep, his mutilated face twisting into an insane smile as he listened to the young ones on the other side of the hill trying desperately to reach their parents and friends through an impenetrable ma.s.s of earth and rock.

Inside the cave the dust had settled. Matthias felt about in the inky blackness until he found his sword. All around him there was spluttering, coughing and con-rusion. The warrior mouse wiped dusty earth from his mouth and called out, "Is everybeast all right?"

"All right? Steady on, old sport. A feller can hardly be all right when he's buried up to his middle in rocks and whatnot."

The warrior mouse groped about slowly in the dense 161.

gloom. "Stay where you are, Basil. Don't move. We'll get you free. Now, are the rest of you safe and unharmed?"

"I'd be all right if this hedgehog didn't keep a b.u.mpin' into me-"

Cheek the otter's grumbling was cut short by Orlando's rumbling growl. "Then stay still and stop bobbing about. You've run into me twice. Here, whose bushy tail is this?"

"Mmmmm, ooohhh! What hit me?"

Matthias moved to where the voice came from. "Jess, are you all right?"

"I think so. A great slab of something got me from behind. No damage done, though. It just knocked me flat for a moment or two. What happened?"

"Kaaachoo!" Jabez Stump sneezed. "I don't think this hillside would stand still for ages then suddenly decide to slide one night for no good reason. Seems to me as if we've been lured into here and trapped."

Matthias and Ortando had crawled over to where Basil lay buried and were trying to dig him out. The old hare bore up bravely, helping them where he could.

"I think you're right, Stump old lad. Ha, here's a pretty thing, a bunch of seasoned campaigners caught like shrimp in a barrel, wot? I'll bet a salad to a soupbowl it was old slyboots, the masked thingummy. What d'you say, Matthias?"

'1 say keep still, Basil. Orlando, can you put your back to this rock and push it away from him? One of you grab his paws and start pulling while I dig the loose stuff away."