Mattimeo

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.”

Ironbeak had heard what went on and nodded. “Do as you will. We have come here only to trade

hostages, no tricks.”

Constance banged her paw down upon the path. “Then let’s get to it and stop fussing about or we’ll be

here to see dawn break.”

Ironbeak nodded to Mangiz, and the crow started the exchange.

“We release them at the same time, one for one. First the infant for Quickbill. Agreed?”

Constance untied the first magpie.

“Agreed!”

Rollo was aware of the gravity of the situation. He strode slowly across to Constance, crossing paths

with Quickbill. On reaching his friends the little bankvole began singing:

“Kick a magpie in the eye,

Shoot a crow wiv a great big bow….”

Winifred swept him up and hurried indoors.

“Now the one called Cornflower for Brightback.”

“Agreed!”

The mouse and the magpie passed each other in silence. Tension mounted in the air now that there

were only two left. As Cornflower embraced Constance, the harsh voice of Mangiz sounded:

“Last, the churchmouse for Diptail.”

“Agreed!”

The exchange took place without a hitch.

Both sides stood watching each other.

At a wave from Ironbeak, the magpie brothers and Mangiz flew off, then the raven General fixed his

eyes on Constance.

“I will continue to attack you. It is my destiny that I should rule in the great redstone house.”

The badger gave him back stare for stare.

“Others have tried to conquer Redwall, warriors greater than you. We are still here. Right is on our side,

justice too. One day our warriors will return home, then you will be driven off or slain.”

Ironbeak was unmoved. “Hakka! We shall see. You are not as clever as you imagine, none of you. Did it

not occur to you that my fighters were not with me to see the exchange take place?”

“Oh nuts’n’acorns,” Ambrose groaned. “I knew the villain had somethin’ hidden up ’is feathery sleeve.”

“While I was drawing out this business for as long as possible,” Ironbeak continued, “my birds were in

your orchards loading up many supplies. I kept you talking long enough for them to make several trips.

Your sentries who should have been guarding the windows facing the orchard were watching me and

Mangiz in case we tried something. Anyway, black birds cannot be seen flying by night. Also, I must tell

you that we have moved down to your infirmary and dormitories. I am conquering this place from the top

downwards. Now you are left only with the place called Cavern Hole. If you try to cross the floor of Great

Hall after dawn tomorrow, we will be watching from the galleries, ready to attack you. We have all the

supplies needed, and you will be held to a state of siege below the floor of this place. You and your friends

might think yourselves clever, but you are not wise enough to outsmart General Ironbeak.”

The raven shot off into the night sky like a dark arrow.

Constance shook her head wearily. “He wouldn’t have outsmarted Matthias.”

Cornflower patted Constance. “You were wonderfully brave to get us free. We’re not beaten yet, as long

as we’re alive and Redwall stands, there is hope,” she said reassuringly. “We must defend the Abbey and

keep it safe, especially for the day when Matthias returns with Mattimeo. Strange, isn’t it, I keep thinking of

my little Matti, even at the oddest times.”

Constance smiled fondly. “That’s because he’s your son and you’re his mother. Whenever I look at you,

I can tell you are thinking of him. Any creature would be glad of a mum like you, Cornflower. Here, what’s

this, tears?”

Cornflower sniffed and wiped her eyes. “No. I’m just a little tired, I suppose. I hope Mattimeo is getting

his proper sleep, wherever he is.”

The trek across the great barren country started at daybreak. Canteens had been filled at the last woodland

pool. Supplies were very low but the shrew cooks had done them proud. Log-a-Log and his scouts had

foraged the woodland fringe, and fennel, cloudberry and dandelion, together with some half-ripened

hazelnuts, had been thrown into a large communal salad, with the addition of some dried fruit and the last

of the cheese. Then a good meal had been eaten facing the flat expanse of sun-scorched earth.

Basil sniffed the dry air.

“Useless trying to scent anything around here. Still, the tracks are clear enough. I can see them from

here, runnin’ off in a straight line. They’re a day and a night ahead of us, I reckon.”

He stood, stretching his long limbs, gazing out at the already shimmering horizon as it wavered and

rippled with the fierce heat.

“Right, lads, quick’s the word an’ sharp’s the action, eh? Form up here and follow me. No lagging and

sitting down on the bally old job. By the left … wait for it, Cheek … quick march!!”

The little column trekked off into the unknown expanses of the desert ahead of them, leaving behind

the final fringes of Mossflower.

Slagar had driven both captives and slavers hard. Marching by night and resting by day, they had crossed

the wasteland. Footsore and weary, Mattimeo and his companions helped each other along. Their mouths

were dry and parched from lack of water, the manacles rubbed and chafed. Tess caught Cynthia Bankvole

as she stumbled for the umpteenth time.

“Up now. Stay on your paws, Cynthia. It’s daylight, so they’ll let us rest soon.”

The volemaid licked dusty lips with a dry tongue. “I hope so, Tess. I can’t stand much more of it,

though I don’t know which I’d prefer right now, a drink or a sleep.”

Auma lent her size and strength, supporting them both with a paw at their backs. “Keep going. I can

see something ahead, though I don’t exactly know what it is. Can you see it, Sam?”

The young squirrel strained his eyes, “Looks like some sort of a black shadow with bushes and trees on

the other side of it. Whatever it is, it has to be better than this wasteland. I think they’re planning to let us

rest when we reach there. Keep going, it shouldn’t be too long now.”

Distances in the drylands were deceptive. It was gone midmorning when the slave line halted at the place

which Auma and Sam had sighted. Cynthia Bankvole drew in a sharp breath and clapped a paw over her

eyes, then sat down, dizzy with fright.

They had arrived at the brink of an abyss!

A huge rift in the earth opened before them. It was as if the world were splitting through its middle.

Impenetrably black and endlessly deep, it stretched away in either direction as far as the eye could see.

Though they were standing at its narrowest point, the distance across yawned many times the length of a

tall beech tree. The captives stood wide-eyed in astonished silence at the awesome sight.

Across the gorge a swaying construction of rope and wood stretched. It was secured at either side by

thick stakes driven deep into the earth, but the center of the rough bridge dipped perilously into the chasm.

Jube buried his face against the dusty ground. “Ooooh! I’d as soon die as try to cross that!”

A moan arose from the slave lines. Others felt the same as Jube, and even the stoats, weasels and ferrets

who had come this far with Slagar began muttering among themselves.

The masked fox stood leaning against the stakes, watching them. He had come across this problem

before and was ready for it.

“Frightened, eh? Legs turned to jelly, have they?” he taunted them.

“We never bargained for anything like this, Chief!” Threeclaws gulped.

Slagar strolled to where two weasels, Drynose and Damper, stood guard over the expedition’s food and

water. Pushing them to one side, he took the three large water canteens and carried them to the head of the

bridge.

“What d’you mean ‘bargained’? You’re not here to bargain, you are here to obey orders. You, Skinpaw,

show them how it’s done. A weasel like you isn’t afraid of crossing a bridge.”

Skinpaw shook his head vigorously. “Ask me to do anything, Slagar, anything. March, fight, climb

mountains, cross rivers … but not that!”

The silken masked fluttered. The Cruel One seemed to be smiling beneath it. He turned to his slavers

one by one.

“You, Halftail, or you, Vitch? How about you, Scringe? Or Bageye there? No?”

They remained silent, while Slagar spoke as if he were cajoling nervous young ones.

“Oh, come on now, it’s only a little bridge across a gorge. Besides, do you see the bushes and trees on

the other side? There’s a lovely little pool there, full of nice cold water. Just think, you can drink all you

like.”

Skinpaw eyed the canteens that Slagar held.

“We’ve got water, Chief,” he pointed out.

The fox swung the canteens out wide, letting go of them. He leaned over, watching them disappear into

the abyss.

“Where? I don’t see any water. Now, you spineless toads, listen to me. You have a choice: either you

cross this bridge and drink water, or you stay on this side and die of thirst!”

Threeclaws was the first to go. He stepped gingerly out onto the swaying bridge, gripping the rope

sides tightly. Carefully he tested each wooden slat before putting his weight on it.

When he was a short way out Slagar called, “Fleaback, Scringe, pick that line up and start the prisoners

going. Halftail, you go with them. The rest of you follow after they’ve crossed.”

Encouraged by Threeclaws’ slow but sure passage, Fleaback and Scringe stepped onto the bridge,

tugging the leadrope.

“Come on, you lot. Step lively, and no hanging back or stumbling,” Scringe chivvied them.

Mattimeo could not shut his ears to the sobbing of Cynthia and Jube, who were in a state of frozen shock.

He tore a strip from the hem of his habit and bit it into two pieces.

“Here, Tess, put these around their eyes. Cynthia, Jube, listen. Hold on to Tess and Auma, and keep

going. You’ll be all right.”

The trick worked. Groping awkwardly, the blindfolded creatures held tight to Tess and Auma, who,

though they were both frightened of the swaying, sagging bridge, found that a lot of the fear was taken out

of the crossing by attending to Cynthia and Jube.

Only Sam Squirrel was totally fearless about the bridge. At one point Tim had to remonstrate him for

making the structure wobble with his jaunty walk.

“Hey, go easy, Sam,” he called nervously. “There’s others on this bridge not as clever as you at crossing

gorges.”

“Oops! Sorry, Tim. Never mind, we’re nearly over now.”

Mattimeo tried not to glance down into the bottomless depths. He dearly wished he had his paws on

firm ground again.

The crossing was made without incident. Safely on the other side, everybeast breathed a huge sigh of relief.

Slagar led them a short way into the bushes.

“There’s the pool. Drink as much as you like. Threeclaws, see they’re fed and watered, then secure the

line. Halftail, come with me.”

Slagar walked back to the edge of the gorge. While Halftail watched, he crossed back over the bridge.

Then the masked fox got out flint and steel. It did not take long to get the dust-dry ropes burning. As soon

as they were alight he bounded onto the bridge and crossed back with surprising speed and agility.

Chuckling to himself, he watched the ropes burn through. The bridge swayed and collapsed with a clatter

of wooden slats as it struck the wall of the chasm beneath them. Slagar took Halftail’s dagger and sawed

through the taut ropes which held the weight of the bridge. He leapt back as the whole structure slipped

away with a creaking, groaning snap. They waited awhile, but there was complete silence from the depths

of the abyss.

Slagar smiled. “See, completely bottomless. Nobeast can follow us now!”