Mattimeo Part 39

around the rock ledge s.p.a.ces, it was almost a piteous whine.

"You have looked upon Malkariss. You must die."

Matthias shuddered. The horrible thing had its paw upon his sword, which had fallen dose to the basket. As he was about to lever himself upright, a chunk of rock struck Malkariss upon the back and he arched in pain. Another rock hit the white polecat, striking him on the paw. He released the sword with a whimper. More ,ocks pelted in.

Matthias scrambled away, retrieving his sword as he went. Thin, ravaged creatures, fur welted with lash-marks, their paws manacled, were advancing on Malkariss like a grim army. They hurled rocks at the cringing figure. Dragging slowly forward, pulling slave chains along the ground, they chanted: "Die, evil one, die!"

"We will bury you with pieces of your own Kingdom!"

Gaunt young hedgehogs, squirrels, mice, moles and otters were picking up big rocks from a pile of debris with both paws. They gathered around the fallen tyrant, heaving the stones onto him with all the force they could muster. Matthias watched in horror as Malkariss was buried beneath a growing mound of rocks. Malkariss could no longer be seen, but still the slaves continued hurling rocks onto the pile.

The Redwall Warrior grabbed a half-starved otter and pulled him to one side.

"Here, hold your chains tight across that rocky slab. Do not be afraid. I am your friend."

The otter did as he was told, hope s.h.i.+ning in his dust-necked eyes.

"Strike hard, friend!" he cried to Matthias.

The Warrior's sword whistled downward through the air. With a sharp snap it sheared the links of chain like a billhook chopping gra.s.s. Nothing could withstand the great sword of Redwall, whose metal had come from a falling star.

396.

Once he had severed the lead dragchain, Matthias set about cleaving the manacles from slaves. Young creatures wept openly, and some cheered and began to dance, with broken chains dangling from their paws. The mouse warrior was freeing them two at a time as quickly as he could, for sounds of battle raging above had reached his ears. A black-robed rat ran up, brandis.h.i.+ng a whip, but before he could reach Matthias, a squirrel felled him with a whirling length of chain.

"Well struck, squirrel," the mouse warrior called out. "I am Matthias of Redwall. What do they call you?"

Despite his scrawny appearance, the squirrel laughed and swung the chain until it whirred around his head.

"Elmtail. I am called Elm tail. I will buy my freedom with this chain that bound me as a slave!"

"Thaf s the way, Elmtail. When I have freed your friends we will do it together, mate!"

The slaves began cheering, and those already liberated swung their chains aloft.

The battle on the ledge was in full flood. Side by side the woodlanders stood in a tight circle within a circle. The outer ring of shrews, with jess and Jabez, was stabbing and thrusting with swords and javelins, all the time moving in a clockwise direction. The inner circle fired over their heads. Urged on by Basil and Cheek, they pelted stones and arrows into the tight-packed horde of rats that surrounded the woodlanders on all sides.

Commanded by Nadaz, the rats fought back with fanatical vigor, and many a good shrew fell to the stabs of their short spears.

Orlando would stand at the center of the circle until he regained his breath, then with a mad roar he would charge out to wreak slaughter upon the rat horde, only coming back into the circle to wipe the gore from his axe and lick wounds.

Whenever Basil saw a particularly vicious attack, he too would go vaulting over into the thick of it, his long 397.

flailing limbs laying rats senseless, to be trampled under the ma.s.ses of their own horde, "Yahooooo! Take that, you blighter! Here, old lad, have some of this harespaw pie and lie down for a bit."

Thud!

Another rat would stretch his length on the rocky ledge.

More blackrobes pressing up the winding causeway steps piled in to fight, fired on by Nadaz.

"Kill! Kill! Slay the invaders who dare come to the land of Malkariss."

Jess Squirrel angrily turned a rat's own spear upon him. "Waifll I get my paws on that one in the purple robe. I'll make him sing a different tune!"

Cheek flexed his throwing paw and spoke his mind to a nearby shrew archer.

"There's just too many of 'em. If we lose a creature we're one short, but you can knock ten vermin out and twenty spring up in their place."

The shrew sighted and shot his arrow, nodding with satisfaction at the result.

"Right 'twixt the eyes. They never come back for more after that. Whafs that you say, otter? Oh aye, there's no stoppin' 'em, is there? Still, we've signed for the trip, so we might as well make the best of it, eh!"

Above the din of the battle, Jess caught a ripple over on the far side of the ledge at the tunnel mouth. She fought her way to Basil.

"Over there, look. It seems we've got some kind of reinforcements."

Basil did an extra-high leap, taking great care to kick a rat flat on the head as he went.

"Yahaha! Well, blow me old whiskers, Jess, if s the young uns!. Mattimeo! Over here you, young scalla-wag. Redwallll!"

The cry was taken up in answer across the melee: "Hooray, we're saved! Basil, you old grubweUer, we're coming! RedwallUll!

398.

Mattimeo and the former captives were battling their way through the throng. Using flailing manacles and spears from fallen rats, they drove across the platform with their cell door in front of them as a s.h.i.+eld. Pus.h.i.+ng, shoving, thrusting and whipping out left and right with everything available, the young creatures fought their way to be reunited with their friends. Nadaz danced and screamed louder, urging his rat horde to greater efforts. The inevitable victory he had foreseen began to waver as the tide of battle flowed in favor of the brave wood-landers.

The Father Abbot was delivering a stern lecture to Cornflower concerning her ghostly antics.

"I did not approve of this venture from the first, my child. One false move and the General's birds would slay you and Sister May. Constance could be badly hurt too."

Cornflower avoided the stern gaze. "But, Father Abbot, we have got the birds frightened. If the ghost of Martin walks the Abbey by night, we will make the rooks and others lose heart and they will not enjoy living at Redwall. Maybe they will fly off to their northlands and leave us in peace."

The old mouse held up a paw for silence. "We went over this argument once before. At first I thought it might have done some good; perhaps it has. But, Cornflower, you are taking this whole thing too lightly, treating it as a big joke. I feel it in my whiskers, one of you will be badly hurt or captured. The whole charade must stop."

A rebellious gleam shone in Cornflower's eyes. "Matthias would have approved of it. I'll bet he and Basil would have kept it up until those birds were scared out of their feathers."

Mordalfus peered severely over the top of his gla.s.ses. "I am glad you mentioned Matthias. Have you thought of my duty to him as Abbot? What if he came marching back out of the south with our young ones, as I am sure he will 399.

do one fine day? How do you think I would feel, having to report that whilst he was gone I allowed you to play foolish tricks until you were killed? You see, Cornflower, I have a responsibility as Father Abbot to you, Matthias and all the creatures within our walls. Now will you please do as I say."

Cornflower sighed deeply and bowed. "I will do as you say, Father Abbot," she said reluctantly.

The kindly old mouse rose stiffly. He patted her lead. "Thank you, Cornflower. Now, Constance, will you take all the warrior's armour to the gatehouse and put it back carefully."

Constance gathered the armour and climbed into the runnel.

Ironbeak was stalking the edge of the Abbey pond. The silver glint in the waters told him that there were fish about. He marvelled at the abundance of food the earthcrawlers had within the walls of the redstone place: orchards, gardens, a great storehouse in the area below stairs, even a pond with good water and fish for the taking. Sometime soon it would all belong to him. He looked about in admiration, staring at the strong outer wall that would keep other earthcrawlers out. His quick dark eye caught a movement over by the main gate. The big stripedog had materialized practically out of thin air. It was carrying something. Ironbeak crouched in the reeds and watched intently.

Constance took a quick glance around to check n.o.beast was observing her. Swiftly she unlocked the gatehouse door and slid inside with the armour. The door closed behind her. Ironbeak could see the key still sticking out of the lock. Seizing his opportunity, he rose and glided silently across to the gatehouse. The deed was accomplished in a trice. The raven leader slammed tile door. Sticking his beak into the handle ring of the heavy iron key, he gave it a swift turn and withdrew it from the lock. There was a scrambling noise from inside.

400.

then the sound of paws pounding against the solid timbers of the door as the badger called out, "Cornflower, is that you? Stop playing about and open this door. Come on, I know ifs you!"

Ironbeak soared off jubilantly with the key looped on his beak. Now that the enemy he feared so much was out of the way, there was n.o.beast strong enough to withstand a sudden attack. Truly Mangiz's visions were becoming reality.

Inside the gatehouse, Constance had her eye to the ' keyhole. She could see nothing. Whoever had locked her in was gone, for it was quiet outside. The badger ran to the window. Redwall Abbey was a long distance from the gatehouse. It stood serene and peaceful across the lawns, beyond the pond. The window was too small for a fully grown badger to break and craw! through, so she began exploring the place. Other small windows in each of the bedrooms proved useless. Constance noted the chimney vent in the cosy hearth, but it was out of the question; a badger of her dimensions would be jammed right away. She tried the door again. It was solid, with florin spikes and iron bands fixed to the stout oak timbers. After exploring every possibility, Constance resigned herself. There was a jug of water and plenty of dried fruits in the cupboard. She sat at the living room window, watching and waiting for help to appear.

"Stryk Redkite wanna fly 'gain. Must fly, Sissimay!"

Sister Mary scrubbed her paws wearily. "No, no, you naughty bird. You must rest until the wing heals. Now be still, or you get no supper." "Don' wan' supper, wanna fly." The Abbot and Brother Rufus sat with John Church-mouse, taking their supper at a barrel top. John rubbed the back of his neck. "Whew, I wish that bird was a sparrow instead of a great red kite. It would have been much easier."

401.

Abbot Mordalfus took a long draught of October ale. "It was difficult, John, but I think it was worthwhile. You did a marvelous job putting those new pinion feathers in place. Did you take all your instructions from Methuselah's book?"

John shrugged modestly. "Not exactly, Father Abbot. I did invent attttle fish glue to reinforce the twine that I tied them with, though I actually did manage to get the feather ends into the cavities of the old ones. They should take and be as good as new by the end of season. What about you, Rufus? How did it go with the break?"

Brother Rufus munched wild-cherry flan. "Mmmff, 'scuse me. We used fishbone and feather quill to repair it. Everything was a bit messy, but quite straightforward when you have our Abbot to help you."

Sister May dried her paws. "I've used every kind of ointment and healing nostrum I know to help the operation along. Now we must wait."

"Wanna fly. Stryk Redkite flyover mountain like sky-clouds/' the big bird wailed.

John folded his spectacles away. "Huh, now we must wait? Try telling her that."

The great red bird made as if to move. Sister May picked up a wooden ladle.

"Just you dare, m'lady. I'll tan your feathery hide!"

Stryk perched sullenly, her wing still supported by the wine firkin and the books.

"Warra warrior, Sissimay shoulda be Redkite."

"The very idea of it, you feathery baggage!"

Cornflower had great difficulty keeping baby Rollo away from the wine cellar. He was anxious to see the big bird. At the moment she and Mrs. Churchmouse had the infant occupied by the barricade in Cavern Hole, where he and some of his little friends were busy at their self-appointed task of watching for rooks. Rollo crouched down, peering round the edge of the table that lay on its side. After a while he turned to the mousewives, who were busy sh.e.l.ling peas.

402.

"No cooks."

"He's trying to tell us there's no rooks," Cornflower explained to Mrs. Churchmouse.

"Oh, I thought he was referring to Mr. Spike when he said 'no cooks.' He's no cook at all."

"Indeed he isn't. Hotroot pepper in the scones! I could have drunk the Abbey pond dry that night. Though our Rollo might have a point. 1 haven't noticed any birds out there, yesterday or today. They may be up to something. Do you think it's worth telling the Abbot or Constance?"

Mrs. Churchmouse rolled a small garden pea over for Rollo to play with. "No, I shouldn't worry. Ironbeak knows he can't get us out of Cavern Hole. It would make him look bad in front of his birds if he failed in another attempt. I think they're doing the same as us, waiting it out. This weather's too hot to do anything. They're probably idling about in the dormitory, eating and sleeping."

Ironbeak was not sleeping, nor was Mangiz, or any of the rooks.

They were gathered at the edge of the Abbey pond, listening as the raven General outlined his strategy, the final plan to conquer Red wall Abbey. Ironbeak paced up and down in front of his command.

"Yaggah! Listen well, my fighters. I will not say there is no ghost mouse; what I say is that it is a trick, some silly thing the earthcrawlers have thought up. When we conquer them I will make them tell us how they did it, then we will throw their ghost from the very top of this redstone house. Kaah! See if it comes back to haunt us then. In the past I was like you. One time in the northlands when I was standing night.w.a.tch, I was sleepy, my wings drooped and my eyes began to close. Yarrak! I saw a great green eagle, a fearsome bird. Instead of running away I flew to attack it. Kaah! It was only an odd-shaped green bush. Do you see what I mean? Tired eyes, darkness, even sun shadows when you are dozing.

403.

can cause your mind to see strange sights. So let me hear no more of these things. They are like the first sight of lightning to an eggchick."

The rooks were unconvinced, but dared not speak.

"Tonight we will make ready for our final battle," the General continued. "Mangiz sees that the omens are good. I know you are loyal fighters. You have fought under me in the northlands. Now you shall have your reward in this warm country, for we will live together in the redstone house with lots of food, sun and easy times. Here is how we do it. I have not posted guards or sentries for two days now. The weather is hot and the earth-crawlers are resting easy. They have plenty of food and dunk themselves safe in the Cavern Hole place. Kayah! This is good. Let them go on thinking we have forgotten ihem, then they will relax. They have posted no guards at their barricade for two nights now. I have seen this. In the hour before the sun rises at dawn, Quickbill and his brothers will go down the stairs. If all is quiet, they will signal to us. Kraal Silence is the key to my plan. Without the big stripedog we will have them at our mercy."

404.

The battle beneath the ground raged back and forth. Mattimeo and his friends had joined forces with Orlando and the woodlanders. Heaving ma.s.ses of rats pressed in from all sides, the double circle continued its deadly function, reinforced by the willing young ones. Jess Squirrel stood alongside her son Sam, but there was t.i.ttle time for happy reunions in the midst of a battle. Orlando and Auma lifted the door bodily between them, using it as a large flattener on the black-robed rats. Nadaz kept up his chant, wailing and screaming as he sent in wave after wave of blackrobes. Shaking his eerie bone sceptre, rattling the mouse skull, he pointed to the woodlanders.

"Die, die, you will all die here. Your bones will rot in the kingdom of Malkariss. The Voice of the Host has spoken!"

Basil Stag Hare and Cheek lifted a rat between them. The wildly struggling creature screeched as he was hefted above the heads of the hare and the otter.

"We're goin' to chuck you over to your boss," Basil informed him. 'Tell him f keep the howlin' an' yellin' down. Bad form, /know. Right, me old Cheek. One, two and away he goes!"

The rat flew through the air. Falling short of Nadaz, he landed on the spearpoints of the horde.

405.

Basil tut-tutted. "Oh bad shot, sir, what've I told you about holdin' your end up, Cheek? Never mind. Try, try again, thaf s the spirit. Grab hold of that smelly chap to your left."

Now Nadaz was standing on the big drum. He pounded it with both paws in a mad dance/ and the noise rolled and boomed, encouraging the rats on the causeway steps to press forward onto the ledge.

Jube Hedgehog and Jabez his father were unas' -ailable. They rolled into one tight ball, hurtling madly about, spiking rats over the brink of the ledge, deflecting spearthrusts with their needled armour casing.

But the rats still came forward.

Tess and Tim Churchmouse formed a trio of flailing chains with Mattimeo, and managed to gasp s.n.a.t.c.hes of conversation as they pounded the rats with the swinging slave-chain manacles.

"Watch your back, Matti!"

"Got him, thanks, Tess. Look out!"

"Good shot, Tim. Are you all right?"

"Phew, my paws are getting tired!"

"Aye, there's no end to them. Look down those steps. They're pouring up four abreast!"