Brian Jacques - [Redwall 03] - Mattimeo

The three mouse ladies took the infant bankvole up to the dormitory on the floor above Great Hall, where

he was dutifully put into a cot.

After several songs, Cornflower held a paw to her lips. “Ssshhh, he’s asleep. Come on, quietly now.”

Rollo opened one eye. He watched them tip-paw out. As soon as the door was closed, he pulled his

nightshirt above his paws and scrambled out of the cot.

Halfway down the stairs, Sister May heard the dormitory door slam. “Mercy me, the little rogue has

escaped. Quickly!”

They bounded back up the spiral staircase, reaching the landing in time to see Rollo climb another

curving flight of stairs.

Cornflower stamped her paw down hard. “Back to bed, baby Rollo, this instant!”

Rollo turned and giggled, then he waved to them. Mrs. Churchmouse heard a slight noise on the stairs

above Rollo, and was about to call out to him. Suddenly a large raven poked its villainous black head round

the spiral and seized Rollo by the nightshirt in its wicked beak.

The little bankvole screamed aloud as he was dragged backwards up the stairs.

Darkness had fallen when Matthias and his new-found army reached the foothills. They were forced to

camp there for the night until morning light revealed their position. Shrew fires glimmered, and the chatter

and noise of the argumentative little beasts made Matthias wish Log-a-Log had never offered the help of

the Guosim. The warrior mouse sat alone on the brow of a small rise, then he was joined by Orlando and

Jabez Stump.

The hedgehog nodded towards the cliffs rearing high overhead. “Puzzles me as to ’ow any creature

’ceptin’ a bird could get to the top of there. You’re sure they went this way?”

Basil Stag Hare sauntered up out of the darkness. “Sure? You could bet your summer spikes on it, old

lad. They’ve scaled the bally heights all right, though how they did it beats me. One clue though, I’ve just

stumbled over the carcass of one of those stoat fellers. Either he thought he could fly or he missed his paw

hold. Ugh! Nearly put me off m’supper, it did.”

“It must have been pretty grim to banish thoughts of food from your mind, Basil,” Matthias chuckled.

“The question is, how do we get up there tomorrow?”

Orlando tested his axe blade against his paw. “And when we do get up there, d’you think they’ll have

laid some sort of trap? Maybe the fox is waiting until we’re halfway up to start hurling rocks and boulders

down on us.”

“That’s a chance we’ll have to take,” Matthias shrugged, “though I don’t think Slagar knows we’re

alive. He’ll probably press on to get his captives to their destination, wherever that is.”

The old hare squatted down beside Matthias. “I picked up the tracks of that young shrew Skan and his

cronies this afternoon. They were making for this point well ahead of us. I think the bally old fox knows

we’re still alive and kickin’, one way or another.”

The warrior mouse unbuckled his sword and lay down in the grass.

“We’ll know tomorrow. Rest now.”

Mattimeo and his companions on the slave line were being driven hard and fast. Evidently there was to be

little rest that night. Slagar and Stonefleck led the column. Before they set out, the masked fox had

addressed them:

“Tonight you must move swiftly and silently. I tell you this because there is no other way. Stonefleck

here will guide us, he knows the paths to take. When we reach the Forest, there is danger, so be silent,

travel fast, and you will come out unharmed. Now get moving!”

It was difficult going. They were forced into a stumbling dogtrot; the chain manacles and the heavy

slave line were a great handicap for the prisoners. Surprisingly, the slavers helped them all they could. Sam

was baffled.

“Matti, Tess, why haven’t they got the canes swinging? Usually we get beaten and bullied, but all of a

sudden they’re being almost nice to us.”

Auma caught Tim as he stumbled. “They’re not shouting and yelling at us either. I’d say they look

pretty frightened themselves.”

“There’s a forest up ahead,” Jube called back to them in a loud voice. “D’you suppose that has

something to do with it?”

“Please, don’t shout or you’ll get us all killed!” Drynose the weasel guard had an almost pleading

whine to his voice.

The forest, when they reached it, looked eerie and forlorn in the dim light. Old gnarled trees spread their

knotted branches wide and low, there was little grass on the floor, and no flowers were to be seen

anywhere. Mattimeo saw the withered and bleached skeleton of a rat dangling from a bough halfway up a

tree, and there were other bones too, scattered here and there throughout the branches. The young mouse

decided to keep quiet about them; no sense in panicking his friends, chained up as they were.

“I’ve noticed those bones too,” Auma whispered in his ear. “We’d best keep quiet. If anybeast gets

attacked it’ll probably be us, who have no chance of making a run for it.”

Bending low to avoid hanging branches, they pushed onward as fast as possible, following Slagar and

Stonefleck. Occasionally Mattimeo could hear guttural noises up in the trees, and now it seemed that

everyone had spotted grisly remains hanging in the boughs, though no creature made mention of it.

Tess Churchmouse shuddered. She had never been in such a sinister place. Catching up with Mattimeo,

she grasped the back of his robe and clutched it tight. The young mouse patted her paw in the darkness.

“Don’t be frightened, Tess,” he whispered. “We’ll make it. There’s nothing to be afraid of. Hold tight

and look straight ahead.”

Tess was comforted by his quiet confidence.

Marching half the night, pawsore and exhausted, they carried on, driven by fear of the unknown.

Stonefleck nudged Slagar. He pointed ahead to a break in the trees. The forest was thinning.

At that very moment, Browntooth the stoat, who was marching on the left flank of the slave line,

received a sharp jab in the eye from an overhanging branch which Halftail had brushed to one side. The

springy branch swished back into place just as the unfortunate stoat drew level with it. The spell of silence

was broken by his screams.

“Arrrgh! Owow! Me eye, me eye!”

Slagar broke into a fast sprint, shouting as he went, “Run for it, follow me, to the shore, to the shore!”

The slavers dashed off, leaving the captives to fend for themselves. They ran, tripping and stumbling,

scrambling over their fallen comrades in an effort to get out of the woods.

“Pick up the rope, keep in line, run as fast as you can,” Mattimeo shouted to the slave line. “Help the

others. If one of us falls we’re all done for!”

They went pell-mell, pulling their stumbling comrades up with the line as they ran, and the back

runners were virtually dragged along. Suddenly the air was full of harsh cries, and a number of dark

shapes descended upon them. It was a fierce onslaught on slaves and slavers alike. The screams of the

injured echoed round in the forest. Auma felt sharp claws strike back at her back. She bared her teeth,

snapping at the thing that was attacking her.

“Help, help! Eeee!”

Caught by several of the strange attackers, Skan the shrew began to rise into the air. He screamed and

kicked for dear life. Tim and Mattimeo felt the slaveline straining and dragging them back as Skan was

pulled upwards. Auma turned and grasped the rope in her teeth. Aided by Tim and Mattimeo, she tugged