Brian Jacques - [Redwall 03] - Mattimeo

them the news that the warrior mouse and his friends were alive and well, still on the trail of the young

captives. Log-a-Log and the remainder of the now depleted Guosim voted firmly to stay with the friends

and see the mission through. They settled down to study the map and writings that had been sent from

Redwall.

Matthias scanned the parchments carefully.

“By the fur, I wish we had met up with Warbeak before we did. Listen to this:

‘ Those who wish to challenge fate,

To a jumbled shout walk straight.

Sunset fires in dexteree,

Find where Loamhedge used to be.

At the high place near the skies,

Look for other watchful eyes.

Sleep not ’neath the darkpine trees,

Be on guard, take not your ease,

Voyage when the daylight dims,

Danger in the water swims.

Make no noise with spear or sword,

Lest you wake the longtail horde.

Shades of creatures who have died,

Bones of warriors who once tried.

Shrink not from the barren land,

Look below from where you stand,

This is where a stone may fall and make no sound at all.

Those who cross and live to tell,

See the badger and the bell,

Face the lord who points the way

After noon on summer’s day.

Death will open up its grave.

Who goes there … ? None but the brave. ’

“Look at this map, we’ve come through all these places. There are the cliffs, here is the pine forest, here

the water with the bows of the rats on the far shore. This place here, hummocks and trees, this is where we

are now. What do you think, Basil?”

“You’re right, of course, old warrior. Hmm, sound advice too. It warns of the dangers in the woods,

even gives the little fishes a mention. Ha, ‘ voyage when the daylight dims ’; maybe we would have stood a

chance of giving those rats the slip if we’d crossed by night. Well, well, a jolly old bit of prophecy here.

Creatures certainly did die, and we’ve left the bones of warriors back there. But what’s all this about

shrinking from barren lands, eh? The only thing I ever shrunk from was lack of food, wot?”

Orlando checked the map. “Jess, do you think you could climb a high tree and look over to the south?”

To an expert climber like Jess this was but the work of a moment. She was up a hornbeam in the

twinkling of an eye.

“We’re nearly out of the woodlands,” she called down from the topmost branches. “I can see some sort

of plain beyond. It looks very bare and dusty.”

Matthias nodded approval. “Well, at least we’re on the right track, but we’ve no way of telling how far

south we’ve travelled. I suppose we’ll have to try and cross the barren land and look for some place where

we can look below to where a stone may fall and make no sound at all. Does that make any sense to you,

Orlando?”

The badger shook his head. “It’s all a mystery to me, but if it will help us to get our young ones back,

I’m game to try. I know nothing of badgers’ heads and bells and lords who point the way and death and

graves, though.”

Matthias stood. “Nor do I, friend, but I intend to find out. Log-a-Log, will your Guosim be ready to

march at daybreak?”

“Ready as ever, Warrior. We’ll soon see what other little surprises this strange southland has in store

for us.”

Chapter 35

The Abbey bells tolled their eventide watch over Redwall as the sun sank below the western plain.

Constance had taken no chances with the three magpies. They huddled miserably in a corner of Cavern

Hole, each with its pinion feathers bound, legs hobbled and beak shut tightly with twine. Constance and

the Abbot sat together in the opposite corner, listening earnestly to Ambrose Spike’s report.

“There ain’t been a move out of anybird, we watched the eaves all afternoon, Brother Trugg, Foremole

and meself. Not a feather or a beak stirred.”

The Abbot scratched his chin. “Strange, I was sure that Ironbeak would try to lay some sort of trap,

either him or that sly crow. Odd, very odd.”

“Odd or not,” Constance shrugged, “the sun’s going down. We’d best get these three outside and

exchange them for three decent creatures. Winifred, will you and Foremole see that archers and javelins fill

the main doorways behind us? Keep them facing Ironbeak and his company in case of trouble.”

Foremole saluted dutifully. “Doant ee wurry, marm, us’ll give’m billyo if’n they moves a claw.”

General Ironbeak’s hostages had been carefully flown down a short time after sunset. The two

mousemothers kept their eyes shut tight as they were borne through the air by six rooks. Baby Rollo,

however, enjoyed the flight immensely, whooping and giggling as he tugged at the three birds that were

carrying him. They landed safely in front of the Abbey pond, then surprisingly the carrier birds flew off,

leaving the hostages guarded only by Ironbeak and Mangiz. To forestall any thoughts of escape, the two

birds kept their fearsome beaks close to Rollo’s head, knowing that neither Cornflower nor Mrs.

Churchmouse would attempt anything whilst the infant was threatened. Slowly they walked across to the

main Abbey door.

Constance and Ambrose awaited them, standing to one side of the three magpies. The open Abbey

doors were crowded with determined Redwallers armed to the teeth.

Ironbeak halted short of the door.

“Why are all your creatures armed and menacing us like this. I understood this was to be a friendly

exchange?” His voice was harsh and commanding.

Foremole waved a large spear at the raven. “Harr, doant make oi larff, you’m the vurmints wot been a-

doin’ all the tricksterin’ an’ attacken. Thus yurr’s wot us calls porteckshun ’gainst crafty ol’ burdbags.”

Mangiz pointed with his wing. “Why are these birds bound like this? We have not tethered your

creatures.”

Ambrose winked at the crow. “Prob’ly ’cos mice don’t have beaks and wings, puddenhead.”

“I will not stand here to be insulted by you, hedgepig,” Mangiz fumed.

“Then stand somewhere else and I’ll insult you there, featherbag!!”

“Ambrose, do not provoke them,” Constance interrupted. “We are here to make a peaceful exchange of

hostages, one for one. Cornflower, are you all right?”

“Yes, thank you, Constance. As well as can be expected under the circumstances.”

Constance bowed stiffly to Ironbeak. “Thank you, raven. As you can see, the magpies are unharmed,

apart from being restrained, otherwise they have been well treated.”

Ironbeak cast his bright eyes on the doorway. “You must think me a fool! I make no exchanges while

we are faced with weapons. Tell your creatures to put down their arms.”

“Aha! I thought so,” Ambrose whispered to Constance. “This is where the raven shows ’is feathers. The

moment we drop our weapons, ’e’ll spring ’is trap, whatever it is.”

Constance watched Ironbeak as she murmured back, “I know what you mean, Ambrose, but what can

we do? He has kept his word, even coming unarmed to meet us. We cannot face him with an army geared

up to the teeth.”

“Hmm, I suppose you’re right. Leave it to me.”

He turned to the Redwall contingent. “Lay those weapons down and listen to me. If the raven or his pal

try one false move, then grab the armoury up fast and make the pair of ’em into pincushions.”