Mattimeo

Chapter 52

The Kingdom of Malkariss was gone. So were the last remnants of old Loamhedge. Sunk deeper beneath

the earth, the jumble of stones that had once been planned as an underground realm was blocked forever to

the eyes of everybeast, choked and cemented in its deep grave by rocks, shale, soil and roots.

Matthias looked up to the rim of the crater, where trees leaned at odd angles in the sunken copse, and

brown and black soil showed through the riven cracks in the grassy carpet. Wearily he sheathed the sword

across his shoulders and turned to his followers.

“Follow me to Redwall!”

They were halfway up the steep hill when Vitch made a bolt. He dashed downhill, crossed the

depression and began climbing the other side.

Mattimeo started to pursue him, but his father held him back.

“Let him go, son. He has no place among honest woodlanders.”

They stood for a moment and watched the small rat scramble over a large boulder half embedded in the

hillside. Suddenly Vitch screamed and began scrambling back on to the boulder, holding both paws up

pleadingly.

“No, no, please. I never told them anything. I wasn’t going with them. They found me!”

The silken mask and cloak appeared in view. Then there was a whirling sound as the metal-ended

bolas hissed through the air.

Vitch died without a sound.

“Slagar!”

Matthias and Orlando rushed down the hillside, unloosing their weapons as they ran.

The crazed fox stood up. He ran halfway to the fallen Vitch, changed his mind at the sight of the

oncoming warriors and began scrambling to the top of the hill.

Foam flecked wildly from Orlando’s mouth as he swung the axe, pounding uphill as easily as he would

over level ground. Spurred on by the sight of his archenemy, Matthias raced alongside the badger, his teeth

clenched tightly, brandishing the sword of Redwall. The whole army turned and followed them.

Slagar made it to the top of the hill. He glanced behind, to see the two Warriors halfway up pursuing

him. Still looking over his shoulder, the masked fox ran.

But only three paces.

The earth swallowed him up. He fell like a great fluttering moth, down into the one place that had not

sunk or collapsed: the old well of Loamhedge Abbey, the secret exit from the Kingdom of Malkariss!

Matthias and Orlando stood with their chests heaving as they gasped in air, staring down at the crumpled

mass far below in the deep well. The secret way was no more an avenue of escape, it was merely a deep pit

that proved useless except for its final function: the grave of Slagar.

“I swore to slay that silken hooded thief!” Orlando sighed with regret.

Matthias leaned upon his sword. “So did I, friend. This has saved us any argument. Let’s get some

rocks, at least we can bury him together.”

The body of Vitch, still with Slagar’s bolas wrapped around its skull, was lowered down into the pit.

The former slaves filled in the last of the pit with soil.

Orlando tamped the earth with a hefty paw. “There’s an end to him. There are no words you could say

over such a creature.”

As Matthias nodded agreement, a poetic voice rang out from above:

“A taker of slaves and a thief,

I know not what master he served,

Cruel Slagar has come to grief,

’twas all that he deserved.”

“Sir Harry!”

The big owl flapped down beside Matthias.

“Yes, it’s old Sir Harry the Muse.

I see you won victory,

So I flew back to bring you the news.

Just guess what happened to me.

I chased those vermin south,

I think they’re running yet.

When I heard a great noise from afar,

So I said to myself ‘I’ll bet

That’s my friends doing battle beneath the ground!’

Then I turned on my wings and flew to see

How a mouse could make such a big sound!”

Basil came ambling up. “Oh, hullo, it’s you, the great flyin’ poetic feedbag. How are you, old chap?

Hungry, I’ll wager. Wot?”

Matthias chuckled as he gave Mattimeo his sword to carry. “Come on, son, let’s go home!”