Brian Jacques - [Redwall 03] - Mattimeo

“Poor little Jube,” she said sympathetically. “He used to be so confident that his father would rescue

him, and treated the whole thing as if he were only along with us for part of the journey. I’m worried about

him, he’s so thin and sad-looking these days.”

Mattimeo smiled at the churchmouse. “You sounded just like your mum then, Tess, always fussing and

worrying over some young one. You’re right, though, Jube isn’t his old self anymore. In fact, none of us are,

we’re much thinner and older. I’m not surprised, after all we’ve been through since that night of the feast at

Redwall.”

Tess looked at her habit. It was torn, dusty and stained.

“It all seems so long ago. I think we’ve grown up a lot since then. Ah, well, the main thing is that we’re

still together. We’ve made friends, too. Look at Auma; I couldn’t imagine life without her and Jube

anymore.”

Slavers and captives alike began wakening. Mattimeo winked at Tess and smiled as cheerfully as he

could.

“We’ll come through it all, you wait and see,” he said comfortingly. “Ho hum! Another nice sunny day

for a walk, eh, Tess? I wonder where old Slagar is taking us today. Nut-gathering? Picknicking? What do

you think?”

Tess stood up, looking a bit more like her old self. “Oh, I think we’d better just stay with the rest and

have a nice ramble,” she chuckled. “What about you? Would you like to play follow my leader — or should

I say, follow my Slagar? Come on, mouse, pick up your daisy chain and let’s go.”

Bageye checked their manacles, muttering in a sullen voice, “Huh, don’t know what you two have got

to laugh about.”

Orlando waded ashore towing the raft behind him. It had been a hard and dangerous night, fighting their

way out of the main current back into the shallows. The crew had poled the raft into a small bay. Wet and

weary, they stumbled onto dry land in the pale dawn light, shivering after their nightlong ordeal on the

swift choppy river.

Basil slicked water from his long drooping ears. “Whaaw! Here’s one old soldier who won’t complain

when the sun starts getting hot. No chance of a bite o’ breakfast, I suppose?”

Matthias dried his sword carefully on a tussock of grass. “No chance at all, old soldier. Those rats will

be dashing along the banks right now, hoping they’ll catch up with us. We’d better move fast if we want to

stay alive. Log-a-Log, you and Cheek tow the raft out a bit. The current will carry it away; no sense leaving

it here as a marker where we came ashore. Jess, Jabez, would you take the rear and try to cover our tracks

from the bank? Leave them as few clues as possible; it may buy us a bit of time.”

Jess Squirrel bounded up a nearby tree, took a quick look around and descended speedily.

“Matthias, we’d better hurry,” she urged. “I could see movement in the bushes further up the bank. If

we stay here much longer we’re going to have company.”

“Right, Jess. Come on, everybody. Keep me in sight. I’m going to take a curving sweep into these trees,

then with a bit of luck we’ll circle south and miss the rats. Hurry now, let’s get out of he—”

An arrow bedded in the ground. It stood quivering a fraction from Orlando, who kicked it into the

river.

“That’s the trouble with being my size, you make a good target. Let’s run for it!”

The rat advance scout fired a whistling arrow upwards to alert the main body. Stonefleck turned in its

direction.

“They’re trying to head south through the trees. Follow me, we’ll cut them off.”

He set off at a tangent, cutting into the woodland to outflank Matthias.

Morning sunlight slanted into the trees as swarms of rats ran silently, keeping abreast of their leader.

Stonefleck halted on a sloping hillside and listened carefully: they were coming. Nodding to his followers,

he dropped down behind an oak. The rats spread themselves among the other trees, notching arrows onto

bowstrings. He could not have timed it better. The woodlanders came hurrying through the forest below,

looking back over their shoulders to see if they were being pursued.

Stonefleck let fly a shaft at the mouse in the lead, hoping to catch him in the side of his neck. The

mottled rat gave a grunt of disappointment as the arrow pinged harmlessly off the hilt of a big sword the

mouse was carrying slung across his back and shoulders. A hail of arrows hit the main party below, shrews

fell slain and wounded as the mouse in the lead shouted:

“Ambush! They’re on our right flank. Follow me!”

They rushed for cover in the protection of the forest to their left, Stonefleck dashed down the hill after

them.

“Charge!”

It was a lucky accident that Stonefleck tripped over a protruding tree root. The rats swarmed past him

in a headlong attack, only to be met by Matthias and Orlando.

The two warriors had taken a temporary stand, allowing the rest of their party to get away. Armed only

with bows and arrows, the rats could not fire in close combat. Orlando took the first two with a cleaving

sideways chop of the huge war axe, while Matthias stepped swiftly from behind a tree and slew a rat who

was dashing past. Turning quickly, he took another on the point of his sword. Orlando thundered into a

group of the front runners. Wielding his axe, he scattered them like chaff, roaring aloud his battlecry:

“Eulaliaaaaa!”

“Redwalllll!”

Matthias was at his side, the scything, whirling blade cutting a deadly pattern of cold steel amid the

rats.

Stunned by the shock of the wild attack, the rat horde fell back. Stonefleck ran up, urging them forward.

“Rush them, there’s only two. Come on!”

They regrouped and dashed in, yelling wildly, but the two warriors were gone!

Matthias and Orlando ran panting into the main party a short distance ahead. The warrior mouse was

angry.

“Why didn’t you keep running? We would have caught up with you.”

Basil shook his head. “We couldn’t, not after we heard all the screams and shouts from back there. We

were about to go back and help you.”

“You should have kept going,” Matthias repeated. “No time to argue now, here they come again.”

Log-a-Log broke into a run, pointing ahead. “Look, there’s a clearing over that way. Let’s get to the

other side of it and hold them off with our slings.”

Stonefleck and his horde were hot on the trail. They had covered half the clearing when a deep shrew voice

called out:

“Sling!”

A rain of hard river pebbles struck the rats, felling several and driving the rest back. Stonefleck grouped

his force at the other side of the clearing. They stood among the trees and returned fire with arrows.

Screams and cries rang out as the battle raged back and forth, shafts going one way, stones flying the other.

Basil took charge of the slingers, forming them into three ranks.

“First rank, sling and reload! Second rank, sling and reload! Third rank, sling and reload!” he ordered.

Matthias and his friends did as best as they could, dodging from tree to tree, picking off the odd rat

with their slings.

Jess took a brief respite and dropped down by Matthias.

“I’m out of stones. Have you got many left?” she asked the warrior mouse.

“Hardly any. They’re no match for arrows, Jess. Look, there’s more rats arriving by the moment; we’re

outnumbered by at least ten to one.”

“At least. They only have to follow us and pick us off one by one, and we can’t make a run for it now,