Brian Jacques - [Redwall 03] - Mattimeo

whirlwind.

Cornflower and Mrs. Churchmouse managed to grab Rollo and the few little ones, and hurried them into

the kitchens. Settling the infants under the kitchen table, they ran to peer round the archway into Cavern

Hole and witnessed the liberation of Redwall Abbey.

Stryk Redkite fought Ironbeak across the shattered barricade and up the seven steps into Cavern Hole,

where the two birds took to the air.

The raven had no way of escape. He flopped about, bouncing from the walls and windows, relentlessly

pursued beak and claw by the red kite. She drove at him with her beak, raked and clawed him with her

talons. Ironbeak tried every trick he knew, plunging and dipping. Whichever way he went, the kite was

unshakably on top of him, around columns, over galleries, under roofbeams, glorying savagely in her

regained gift of flight.

Ironbeak tried one last desperate attempt at escape. He winged straight up to the trapdoor leading to

the place in the eaves, and he had actually set his claws into the ring of the wooden door when the kite

struck full force.

Stryk Redkite circled the ceiling of Great Hall as the lifeless carcass of General Ironbeak plummeted

down to hit the stone floor below in a ragged heap of raven feathers.

“ Kreeeeeegh! Stryk Redkite flies!”

Mangiz tried to flee. He took wing and left the ground, flying for the stairs and the ruined barricade.

Constance was waiting. She stood with one paw swinging strongly upward. As the crow drew level

with her, she batted out hard. The seer crow hit the far wall of Cavern Hole like a ripe fruit. Then he slid to

the floor, never to rise again.

The remaining sparrows of Queen Warbeak’s command took care of a rook and a magpie between them.

Winifred flattened two rooks with a big frying pan, and Brother Rufus and Sister May accounted for a rook

between them.

Immediately, the fight went out of the remaining rooks and the two surviving magpies. Without their

leader and Mangiz the seer, they lost heart. Constance pointed a blunt paw.

“Into that wine cellar, all of you. One squawk or false move while you’re down there and we’ll do to

you exactly what you planned for us. Now get out of my sight double quick, before I change my mind and

let the big red bird loose on all of you!”

Shepherded by Winifred and Ambrose, the birds fled hurriedly through the kitchens to the wine cellar.

Ambrose, armed with a soup ladle, threatened them, “Move along there! If one o’ you rotten eggspawn

so much as looks at my barrels of wine and ale, I’ll chop off your tails and pickle the lot of you in a barrel

of sourapple vinegar!”

Constance set the big table back in its former place, “No real damage done, except to your gatehouse

cottage door, Cornflower. I’ll help you repair it. There! The old place looks nearly as good as new. Father

Abbot, Redwall is yours once again. We await your word.”

The Abbot glanced up into Great Hall. “Our first problem is how to stop Stryk flying about. She’s

making me dizzy, soaring and wheeling around the Abbey. John, you can make an addendum to the books

on birds, concerning the remarkable healing powers of a great red kite’s wing. By the fur, that bird looks as

if she wants to spend the rest of her life in the air.”

John Churchmouse, not renowned for his humor, smiled.

“When I was a young un I could never make a kite that flew properly. Funny how you learn as you get

older,” he joked.

From the wine cellar, the tiny gruff voice of baby Rollo sang raucously:

“Chop up a rook’n make a soup.

Send him to bed wivout any bread,

Dip his tail in ’tober ale,

An’ good ol’ magpie pie!”

The sound of happy laughter rang through Redwall Abbey from the wine cellar to the very roofbeams

of Great Hall, where the big red bird soared gracefully.

Chapter 51

Matthias stood with his paw upon Mattimeo’s shoulder and gazed around the hushed ledge. Orlando and

Auma were with him, Jess Squirrel and her son Sam, Jabez Stump and his son Jubilation, and Basil and

Cheek with Tim, Tess and Cynthia. Log-a-Log Flugg and his remaining shrews stood behind Matthias,

while before him there was gathered a motley horde of young woodland creatures.

The surviving blackrobe rats had fled down the causeway steps, back to the green misted caves and

tunnels that had been the Kingdom of Malkariss. All along the ledge, down the steps of the causeway and

across the floor of the bottom workings, lay the ranks of the slain. In the flickering torchlight, eerie shadows

danced around the silent rockface.

Mattimeo took the great sword of Redwall from his father as Matthias stood on a rocky knoll with his

paws outstretched.

“You are free!” Matthias proclaimed.

A roaring cheer echoed through the underground.

The warrior mouse nodded approvingly. “All of you who suffered under the cruelty of Malkariss, you

who were stolen from your homes to lose many seasons of your young lives chained in dark places, let me

tell you something. The world outside is dressed in the colours of summer. Grass, flowers, trees and rivers,

they are yours. If you cannot remember where you came from, if you have nowhere to go, come with me

and my friends to Redwall Abbey in Mossflower country and live in peace there. For two days we have

had to fight the powers of evil. Many were slain in the great battle, and you must never forget them, the

good creatures who gave their lives to buy freedom for you.”

Heads were bowed, and tears were shed, for lost youth and lost friends. Matthias stepped down and

nodded to Orlando, who took his place on the knoll. The Warrior of the Western Plain raised his battleaxe

as his thunderous voice boomed out:

“Let us go up into the sunlight! But first we will destroy the symbol of wickedness that has plagued this

place!”

Orlando and Matthias took their weapons to the base of the great white statue which reared from the ledge

to the roof of the immense cavern. Orlando spat upon his paws and grasped the axe handle firmly as he

swung it back.

“The purple-robed rat, Nadaz, he’s in there!” Tim Churchmouse cried out.

A hissing voice came from between the crystal teeth of the monolith:

“Fools, you cannot destroy the Kingdom of Malkariss. Now I am not only the Voice, I am King of the

void.”

Matthias walked round the statue until he found the secret door. It was a tight-blocked entrance,

cunningly carved so that it appeared as a mere hairline crack on the smooth limestone.

Matthias struck it with the flat of his blade.

“Come out, Nadaz, it is over!” he cried.

“Over?” The Voice of the Host laughed scornfully. “No, it is just beginning. Malkariss was old and

weak. I am Nadaz, I am strong. You cannot get me. The entrance has a secret seal that only I can unlock

from the inside. When you are gone I will get more blackrobes, more slavers, and I will follow you and

hunt you down like insects.”

Orlando swung the axe, hacking a chunk from the limestone. “Then go to your kingdom, evil one.

Eeeeulaliaaaaaa!”

Woodlanders scattered and began running for the tunnels as pieces of limestone hurtled and flew,

shattering against the rocks. Matthias hewed at one side of the statue with his war blade. Orlando pounded

at the other side with his battleaxe.

Nadaz screeched and raged inside the head of the great white idol. Steel rang against stone as chunks,

splinters, powder and lumps of limestone whizzed in all directions.