Marlfox

An' that's the sting in my small tale.

Buzz buzz buzz, I tell you folk,

Stay clear o' my ole three-topped oak!"

Ellayo chuckled as she described the scene to Cregga. "Heeheehee, the Dibbuns are dancin' round mister Florian an' whirrin' their paws as if they was wings. Hear 'em makin' buzzin' noises? I won't repeat t'you wot that hare's a-sayin'."

Cregga smiled. "You've no need to, friend. I can hear him."

Florian was stumbling over Dibbuns, holding the poultice still and shouting at them. "Away an' leave me in peace, you pint-sized rotters! Get from under me paws, vile infants! An' you, Tragglo sir, there's nothin' funny in a warrior gettin' his hooter nipped by a confounded buzzin' insect. Shame on you an' all your ilk, sir, you're a bounder an' a pollywoggle an' a dreadful singer t'boot, so there, wot!"

Tragglo retaliated by quickly composing the first line of a new ditty. "I'll sing ye a ballad of a fork from a salad..."

Clapping both paws over his ears Florian dashed off, yelling, "Yah, you great overstuffed pincushion, bad form! Addin' insult to injury. Go 'way an' leave me alone, y'fatty needle-bottomed cask-thumper!"

Rusvul joined the listeners at the doorway. "Pore ole Florian. Don't 'ave much luck, does he, hohohoho!"

Ascrod and Predak were the least hurt of the besieging army. Raventail was unrecognizable, his head completely misshapen by stinging lumps, made uglier with a thick coating of pounded dock and stream mud. Vannan was so full of poison from termite bites that her footpaws had swollen like balloons.

Ascrod shook his head. "Who'd believe it, sister, the injuries that insects can inflict. I took count a while ago. Six are missing I either stung to death, or run away after being driven mad."

Predak viewed the scene in grim silence. After a while she gripped her ax handle resolutely. "We're not going to be defeated, brother. This thing has gone too far. There has to be something simple, a thing that everybeast has overlooked. Redwall Abbey can be conquered, I know it can!"

Ascrod was impressed by his sister's fervor. "I believe you, Predak, but what's the answer? Everything we've tried so far has failed, and two Marlfoxes are slain!"

Predak looked about her desperately. "Leave these fools to nurse their wounds. Come on, we know that no creature alive can outwit a Marlfox. We're going back to Redwall. We'll lay low and study it carefully from every possible angle- We won't rush into any harebrained scheme. We'll stop and watch and listen, take note of everything, until we come up with a simple, foolproof solution."

Ascrod stared levelly at the vixen. "Yes, I believe we will, sister of mine. Remember that rhyme our mother used to recite when we were little more than cubs?

"The Marlfox cannot be bested,

Either in cunning or stealth,

Whenever there is power to be seized,

Plunder, land, or wealth,

When other minds are slumb'ring,

The Marlfox is wide awake,

Figuring how and where and when,

To deceive, to slay, to take!

Invisibly, by the magical guile,

Slyly, with less than a sound,

Count your paws, make sure they're yours

When the Marlfox is around!"

Like smoke on summer wind Ascrod and Predak vanished from the camp, into the thicknesses of Mossflower, back toward Redwall Abbey.

The mousebabe Dwopple and his partners in crime, molebabes Wugger and Blinny, had become Marlfoxes again. Daubed with flour and ashes and wearing gray blanket cloaks, they trundled into the kitchens and loaded a full plum pudding onto a cart. Believing themselves invisible they hauled the cart away, looking back over their shoulders and giggling. They made it safely out of the kitchens only to be halted by the javelin of Rusvul Reguba. "Haharr, you didn't know that I'm the only beast in Redwall who can spot Marlfoxes, did yer? Now prepare to be slain!"

Dwopple blew a sigh of frustration and seated himself on the cart. Rusvul could not help smiling at the little fellow.

"Phwaw! Us alius gettin' catched, 'cos we not real Marmfloxes I 'uppose. If 'n you don't slain us we gives ya some pudden."

Rusvul relieved them of the pudding and took it back to the kitchen. He gave them a candied chestnut apiece. "It ain't nice to steal, y'know. If you want vittles you've only got to ask, for nobeast goes hungry at Redwall. Another thing, bein' Marlfoxes isn't good either. You'd do better bein' Redwall Warriors, like Martin on the tapestry."

Wugger seated himself on a pile of floursacks. "Yore Dann be fetchin' ee tarpesty back yurr, zurr, bain't that so? Oi speck Dann'll be back soon, do ee, zurr?"

The squirrel warrior seated himself beside the molebabe. A tear coursed down his craggy features, and he turned his head aside quickly, hoping the Dibbuns had not seen it. "I 'ope he will, liddle 'un. If anybeast brings back the tapestry it'll be my Dann. He's a Reguba, y'know, bravest o' the brave!"

Dwopple popped a plum out of the pudding and munched it. "Will Marmfloxes be back, mista Rusbul? Mista Florey say they'm all goed an' not come back 'ere no more."

Rusvul stroked the mousebabe's head pensively. "Mister Florian an' lots of others say they won't be back, and certainly nobeast in this Abbey wants to see that lot return. But you take my word fer it, liddle feller, there's a world o' difference between what we'd like an' what we get. Nobeast knows that better'n I. Take it from me, all of yer, those Marlfoxes'll be back, an' their vermin with 'em, I'm certain of it, sure as I'm sittin' 'ere talkin' to you!"

The Dibbuns shook off their blanket cloaks and began dusting themselves down.

"C'mon, Wugg, us gonna be Red'all Warriors. Wot does Red'all Warriors look like, mista Rusbul?"

Rusvul looked at the Dibbuns standing boldly before him. "Just like you three, mates. Now go on with yer, off an' play!"

He watched them scampering off, thinking of his own son Dann when he was their age, innocent, fearless and happy. Then Janglur peered around the kitchen entrance at his friend. "Come on up on the wall, matey. There's somethin' I think you should see!"

^{Chapter 28}

Things happened so fast for Dann and his friends that it was difficult for them to recall the incident later. Clinging to the boatsides, paddles forgotten, they shot into the underground waterfall like an arrow from a bow. The Swallow was such a light craft, she was whipped over the torrent's edge and flung straight into the Stygian gloom. Noise like none had ever known echoed and reverberated around them; darkness was everywhere. Breathless and battered by heavy spray, the three companions felt their boat spin through the air, down, down, down. There was a sudden impact. The Swallow struck an underground ledge with a rending crunch. All three were flung from the boat, half stunned, into a whirling, sucking miasma of dark icy water, far below the earth's surface.

Dann felt himself rushed along on a mighty current, bumping into rocks and scraping against slime-covered side channels, being swept always on a downward path. His paws were bruised and torn from trying to grasp at passing objectscompletely disoriented, he grabbed at anything. A shattered wooden spar met Dann's grasp, and he seized it, holding tight as he felt himself spilled over the top of another steep downfall. Striking the side, the spar flicked back at him, wiping out his senses with a sharp crack to his head. Darkness and silence enveloped the young squirrel.

Dann awakened gradually. Far away he could hear the muted roar of the waterfalls. It was cold and somebeast was anxiously patting his face.

"Dann, me ole mate, wake up! Y'can't die an' leave me here all on me own. C'mon, Dann, I'm beggin' yer, mate, wake up! If you die an' leave me down 'ere on me own I'll never speak t'you again, so there!"

Opening his eyes, Dann found himself staring into Dippler's tearstained face. Despite his aching body, the squirrel smiled. "You muddle-'eaded little ragbag, you'll never speak to me again if I die? That's a good 'un, mate!"

The Guosim shrew hugged his friend heartily. "You know wot I mean, Dann!"

Dann clasped Dippler's paw. "Of course I do, matey!"

Straightening up, they both took stock of their surroundings. The underground river flowed by on their right. They had been washed up on some rocks that skirted a huge pool to the left. Pale green phosphorescent light bathed the immense cavern, and stalactite and stalagmite formations decorated the far reaches of the pool's edge. However, they were of little interest to Dann and Dippler, whose eyes roved the strange place searching for the watervole.

Dippler voiced his thoughts. "I wonder where ole Burble's got to?"

Cupping both paws around his mouth, Dann shouted, "Burble, are you there, mate?"

Echoes of the call bounced back from all directions, but there was no reply, only the distant boom of the falls and a steady plip-plot of water dropping from the high cavern ceiling into the pool. It all sounded very eerie.

Dippler gave Dann a worried glance. "Pore ole Burb. Wot if he's ..."

The young squirrel placed a paw to the shrew's lips. "Don't even mention it, Dipp. Come on, maybe he's been washed farther downriver. Don't fret, we'll find him."

Keeping close to the river edge, they pressed onward, sometimes wading waist deep, other times jumping from rock to rock. Dippler followed Dann. He was in a gloomy mood and took every opportunity to let his companion know it, voicing his thoughts aloud as they went.

"Huh, I've gone an' lost me blade. Wot sort o' Guosim must I look like, widout a rapier by me side? It's all right fer you, mate, you've still got that great sword slung over yore back. Pore ole me, I've got nothin' to defend meself with." Dippler's voice re-echoed about the tunnel they were sloshing through after leaving the cavern. "An' I'm so wet'n'cold that I don't think I'll ever get dry'n'warm agin. Blinkin' head's achin', too!"

Dann waded forward, trying to ignore Dippler's complaints. "Proper little ray o' sunshine, aren't you, Dipp? Moanin' ain't goin' t'do us any good. One more word out of you an' I'll die an' never talk to you again!"

"Help! Gerroff me, y'dirty great hooligan! Heeeeeelp!"

Echoes of Burble's voice boomed all around the tunnel. Dann drew his sword, looking about wildly. "It's Burb. Which way are those sounds coming from?"

Dippler pushed past Dann, stumbling and splashing ahead. "Well, he wasn't back where we were, so he must be up thataway!"

The tunnel opened out into another vast cavern. Like the previous one, this also had a rockbound pool, but far larger than the first. They scrambled up onto the rocks and saw Burble.

The watervole was clinging fiercely onto a stalagmite at the shallow side of the pool, flat out in the water. He was caught by the tail, and a veritable monster of a fish was trying to drag him into the deeps. The fish was a barbel, white as snow and completely blind from living in the dark subterranean depths. It was a fearsome sight, with a head as wide as Dann was tall. Dippler hurtled into the shallows and grabbed Burble's paws as they slipped from the smooth rounded stalagmite. He began a tug of war against the barbel, with Burble roaring in a panic, gripping the young Guosim's paws, trying to lever himself forward as Dippler dug in, bending over backward, grunting as he tried to heave his friend away from the huge fish. The watervole felt his wet paws slipping from Dippler's grasp as the monstrous barbel pulled, dragging him farther into the fathomless pool with it.

"Don't let 'im get me, Dipp! Pull, pull! Dann, heeeeelp!" he shrieked.

Dann dashed forward and tripped, cannoning into a stalagmite, the limestone column snapping as he struck it. Scrambling upright, the young squirrel hurtled onward, booming echoes of his shouts ringing round the cavern.

"Hold on, Burb, I'm comin'! Redwaaaaaalllll!"

Without thinking, Dann had seized hold of the broken-off stalagmite, unconscious of its weight. Sloshing into the shallows, he swung the cylindrical chunk of limestone like a club, whacking the fish a mighty blow on its jaw. The barbel's awesome mouth flew open and Burble shot forward, collapsing in a heap atop Dippler. Dann let go of the stalagmite and leapt to safety, landing upon his two friends in a jumble of thrashing limbs. Like a steel trap the barbel's mouth slammed shut, trapping the stalagmite in its jaws. It slid backward, completely stunned. Slipping from the shallow rock ledge, the leviathan of the pool dropped back into the depths. Slowly it sank from sight in the green translucent water, leaving behind a spiraling trail of carmine from its injured mouth. They lay exhausted, shuddering with shock and fear.

Dann sat up first, massaging his limbs briskly, wide eyes riveted on the still pool. "Uuugh! What an evil-lookin' monster. Are you all right, Burb?"

The irrepressible vole inspected his skinned tail ruefully. "Yiss yiss, 'twas a big 'un all right. Pity we couldn't 'ave dragged it ashore an' ate it. I'm starvin'!"

Dann burst into laughter at the gluttonous watervole. "Hahaharr! Trust you, Burb, always thinkin' of yore stomach!"

Burble shook himself indignantly. "Ah now, yer wrong there, bucko, I was thinkin' of the big fish's stomach, an' wot it'd be like livin' inside it. But thank ye, Dann, that's a useful ould club you swung there, yiss yiss!"

Dippler was in agreement with the watervole. "Burb's right, though, I'm starvin' too. Wot I wouldn't give fer one of ole Goody Brimm's scones spread with honey an' cream!"

Dann took a glance at their surroundings. "As for me, all I'd like to see is the sunlight shinin' on trees an' woodland again. This place gives me the creeps!"

The three friends lost all sense of night or day in the gloomy caverns deep in the mountain. They followed the course of the river, hoping that somewhere it might flow out into the open. However, there was always the dread in their minds that it would flow into ever-deeper underground caves and keep going down. Hunger, cold and weariness pervaded their bodies, but they strove onward, knowing they could not afford to lie down and sleep in the bitterly low temperatures of the subterranean regions.

Dann began bobbing his head slowly from side to side as they progressed along a winding stone corridor. Dippler, who was walking behind him, grumbled. "Keep yore 'ead still, mate. I'm startin' to feel dizzy, watchin' you shakin' it from one side to t'other all the time."

But Dann continued moving his head. "I can see a star shining up ahead. Leastways, it looks like a star, but maybe 'tis just a vision, I'm so tired."

The shrew pushed his way in front of Dann. "Let me take a look, mate. Hah! Yore right, there is somethin' glimmerin' up ahead, looks a bit like a star. Come on!"

Pushing their exhausted limbs, they stumbled ahead. The light grew larger, and then Burble shouted joyfully, "Yiss yiss, I see it clear now. That ain't no star, 'tis a gleam o' daylight. It's daylight, I tell yer!"

Renewed energy flooded their bodies and they ran toward the light, laughing and rubbing their paws together like gleeful Dibbuns. Leaving the river course, they climbed upward over piles of stony debris, sliding back in the deep dusty shale. Dann used his sword, digging the blade in and hauling himself up until he reached the light. The young squirrel placed his eye against the hole and peered through.

"I can see the outside! We're on the lower slopes of the mountain at the far side. Stay back and I'll see if I can widen this hole with my sword!"

He stabbed at the hole and was immediately rewarded. A big chunk of rocky earth, with grass growing on it and a sprig of heather, tumbled inward. Dippler and Burble moved it out of the way, and sunlight flooded in. They laughed and cried at the same time, letting the warm sun beam in on their dust-grimed faces.

"Yiss yiss, that's the good ould sun all right. Go on, Dann, give it a good dig wid yore blade!"

Several more stabs of the sword brought soil, rock, grass, scree and mountain herbage tipping in upon them.

Spitting soil and grit, they climbed out into the sunlit afternoon and sat blinking in the unaccustomed warmth and brightness. Behind them the mountain reared, high and forbidding; below was a woodland with a broad stream running through it.

Dippler' pounded Dann's back, raising a cloud of dust from him. "We did it, matey, we did it! Now fer some vittles. I'll stake me name there'll be fruit an' berries growin' aplenty amid those trees down there. Wot d'you say, Burb?"

"Oh yiss yiss, an' they'll still be there while we're sittin' about on our tails up 'ere lookin' at 'em. Come on, let's eat!"

Stumbling, rolling and scooting on all fours, they bumbled their way down from the lower mountain slope into the peaceful green canopy of quiet woodland. Dann made a little camp on the streambank. He found flint in the soil and used dried moss with his steel swordblade to get a small fire going. Dippler and Burble were soon foraging about.

"Haha! Apples an' blackberries, loads of 'em!"

"Yiss yiss, I've found wild strawberries an' a plum tree too!"

They bathed in the warm stream shallows, getting all the dust and dirt of their ordeal out of their fur, drying off around the fire. Dippler shouted out with the sheer joy of being alive, his cheeks swollen with a great mouthful of apple and plum.

"Good ole Mother Nature.Thanks for the feast, marm!"

With the fire in front of them and the summer sun on their backs they gorged themselves shamelessly on sweet ripe fruit. Soon eyelids began drooping, and they tossed the mess of apple cores and plum stones into the stream and lay down gratefully.

"Dann mate, I'm glad you never died an' yore still talkin' t'me," murmured Dippler.

"Oh, are you, Dipp? Well, that's nice. But let's remember there's someone missing. Poor Song. Will we ever see her again?"

For a moment the two friends were silent. Eventually, Dippler put his arm around Dann. "Don't worry. She's a real warrior, that'n. I wouldn't be surprised if one bright morning she doesn't just come strolling by ..."

Just then they were rudely interrupted. "Will youse both be quiet. Yiss yiss. An' if y'don't go to sleep I'll kill the two of yer an' never talk to either of you again."

Lying on their backs in the peaceful noontide the three weary travelers snored uproariously. It was the snores that betrayed their presence to a creature roaming the woods. Fenno!

************************************

Dippler was wakened by the point of a rapier pressing against his throat. The Guosim shrew opened his eyes to be confronted by his hulking former comrade. Fenno's brutal features split in an ugly grin, and he leaned close to Dippler, keeping his voice low. "You an' yer mates snore too loud, Guosim. I 'ad a feelin' we'd meet up again someday. Quiet now, one peep outta you an' yore dead. We've got a score t'settle, me'n'you."

Despite Fenno's warning Dippler managed to whisper, "Promise you won't harm my mates?"

Fenno stared into Dippler's hard, unfearing eyes. "I ain't promisin' nothin' to you, Dippler. Log a Log's liddle pet, 'twas you started all this trouble fer me. Now get up on yore paws. Make one false move an' I'll slay yer friends!"

Dippler rose slowly. Behind Fenno he could see Burble, still snoring loudly. But Dann had one eye open, and he winked at Dippler. Fenno kept the rapier point pressed to Dippler's throat, so Dann had to be careful of his next move. Rising silently behind Fenno, he suddenly grabbed the big shrew by both ears and pulled him roughly backward. Fenno could not keep his balance and fell flat on his back. Dippler's footpaw was speedily on Fenno's rapier paw, stopping him from wielding the blade. The bullying shrew sneered up at him. "So it takes two of yer, eh? Why not wake the other one, then all three could gang up on me, cowards!"

Dippler looked across to Dann, his eyes bleak. "Stay out of this, mate. 'Tis my fight!"

Dann nodded his head, then drew his sword and tossed it over. "So be it, friend. Here, borrow my blade."

Burble sat upright, rubbing his eyes. "Can't a beast get a bit o' sleep round here? What's goin' on?"

Dippler caught the sword, cautioning Burble, "Nothin' t'do with you, Burb. Stay out of it. This is personal."

Dann and Burble moved away from the two shrews, and Dippler took his footpaw from Fenno's rapier. The big shrew sprang upright, swishing his blade.

"Now I'm goin' to slay you like I did ole Log a Log!"

Dippler was unused to the heavier weapon, but he leveled it at his enemy. "You can't kill me like you murdered Log a Log. I'm facin' you, Fenno. You stabbed Log a Log in the back!"

They circled each other, blades flickering, each looking for an entrance. Fenno was a skilled swordbeast. "I'll chop ye t'ribbons afore you can swing that clumsy thing!" he taunted.

Dippler parried his strike awkwardly and stood waiting for the next thrust, trying to accustom his paw to the blade. "Yore a bully an' a murderin' coward, Fenno, you always were!"

Fenno swung and feinted. Bringing his rapier slashing down across the young shrew's footpaw, he grinned nastily. "Bit by bit, I'll carve ye nice an' slow, young 'un!"

As he spoke he leapt forward, swinging sideways, aiming across his adversary's eyes. Dippler was ready this time, and he swayed backward, chopping the heavy blade down and breaking Fenno's rapier into two pieces. Fenno was quick; he jumped with both footpaws on the flat of the sword and headbutted Dippler. The young shrew saw stars, and fell flat on his back. Fenno grabbed the sword and dived at Dippler. Desperation and a quick turn of speed aided the younger shrew. He rolled over to one side, seizing the broken rapier and leaping upright. Fenno hit the ground in a cloud of dust. Dippler brought the broken rapier down forcefully with both paws as the hefty shrew rolled over. Breathing heavily and hardly able to lift his head, Dippler stood over the body of his enemy. "Shouldn't 'ave let yer turn over, Fenno. I should've got you in the back, the way you killed Log a Log!"

Dann retrieved his sword. Kneeling, he examined the hilt of the broken rapier protruding from Fenno. "Dipp, this is your sword. I recognize the hilt."

The young shrew took a glance at it. "That's my blade, all right. How did that scum come t'be carryin' it? I lost it back in the caves."

Burble pondered a moment, then held up a paw. "Ah, I've got it, yiss yiss. Yore rapier wasn't a great heavy blade like Dann's, 'twill have been swept straight through yon mountain by the river into that stream. I'll wager that's where the big shrew feller found it, on the bed o' the stream shallows, yiss yiss!"

Dippler picked up the bottom half of the blade and flung it into the stream, where it sank and went rolling away with the current. "Aye, per'aps yore right, Burb. Doesn't make much difference now though, does it? No rapier could stand up to the steel in Martin the Warrior's blade."

Dann slung his sword over his back, into the belt that carried it. "Right y'are, Dipp. The sword ain't been made that could best this blade!"

Later that afternoon they followed the streambank away from the mountain. The going was easy and they covered a fair bit of ground by nightfall. Dann was about ' to suggest they make camp when Burble gestured for silence. They stood quiet while Burble listened. He pointed to an ash. "Stay there by that tree. I'll be back soon. Keep quiet now an' keep yore heads down while I take a look around."

Dann caught Burble's paw. "Hold hard there, mate. What is it? There's somethin' yore not tellin' us."

The watervole sniffed the air, his nose pointing downstream. "I've been smellin' a watermeadow up ahead for a while now. Yiss yiss, I'd know that heavy scent anywhere. But there's somethin' else, Dann, somethin' not very nice. I don't like it!"

The young squirrel unshouldered his sword. "Well, you're not goin' alone, Burb. Whatever 'tis we'll face it together. Come on, stay together an' go quietly."

Late afternoon was slipping into evening when they sighted the watermeadow on their right. It was landlocked on the nearside, though a narrow gap at its far edge filtered out into a river some distance away. The scent of water lilies, crowfoot and bulrushes mixed with the smell of rotting vegetation was heavy on the air. Dippler's voice sounded unusually loud in the sinister stillness that hung over everything. "Yukk! So that's wot you could smell, eh, Burb?"

Burble glanced back at his friends as he pushed forward into a high fern thicket. "Ah no, 'twas somethin' far worse than that!"

They navigated a path through the ferns, the ground squelching under their footpaws as they skirted the watermeadow. Burble steeled himself and thrust forward from the sheltering ferns. "Smell's stronger now, somewhere around here ... Yaaaaagh!"

He had walked straight into the half-decayed carcass of a water rat dangling from the limb of a crack willow, its grinning skull seeming to mock at them through eyeless sockets.

Dann froze. "So that's what y'could smell..."

Phfffft sssssstck! Two sharpened bulrush spears came whizzing out of nowhere, one burying itself in the earth alongside Dippler, the other narrowly missing Dann's head. Drums began pounding, and more spears came hissing through the air. Burble glimpsed the horde of lizards, newts and toads thrashing their way through the watery margin toward them.

"Oh, great seasons o' slaughter, run fer it, mates!"

Foul-smelling ooze squirted underpaw as they fled, flattening ferns and leaping over rotting treetrunks. A fearsome high-pitched wail arose from the reptiles pursuing them, and the drums throbbed louder. Dann made sure that whenever possible he kept hold of Dippler and Burble's paws as they ran across the marshy ground. Behind them could be heard the slithering and keening of the cold-eyed hunters, growing closer by the moment. Burble stumbled and fell flat in damp brown sedge, spluttering and coughing. "Run f'yore lives. I can't go no further!"

Roughly Dippler dragged the watervole upright. "We're stickin' t'gether, mate. Move yoreself!"

Stumbling and gasping, they dragged Burble along with them. Two toads and a lizard, who had come from a different angle, leapt out in front of them, spears at the ready. Clasping paws, the three companions charged straight at them, tumbling them flat before they had a chance to use their weapons. Dann felt the toad's stomach underpaw, the breath whooshing out of the reptile as the young squirrel ran right over him. Into a grove of trees they pounded, dodging between the trunks, bulrush spears clattering off the branches around their heads. Dann knew they could not run much longer, but he staggered onward, looking wildly about for someplace to hide. There it was, a huge rotten elm trunk lying flat in a deep, leaf-carpeted depression, which had probably once been a stream.

"Down there, quick, under the fallen tree!"

They flung themselves under the dead woodland giant, quickly scooping out the thick sodden loam and building it around them. Dann pushed the other two farther under, drawing his sword and fighting his way in alongside them. Surrounded by the nauseating odor, regardless of woodlice and insects that crawled over them, they lay, scarcely daring to draw breath, their hearts pounding frantically, hoping fervently that the hunters would not discover them.

Moments seemed to stretch into hours, then Dann heard the rustle of dry leaves. The drums had ceased and the reptiles had stopped their wailing. Now there were slithering sounds. The pursuers were in the disused streambed, searching for them. The three friends gripped one another's paws tightly, knowing that twilight had fallen over the area, giving them a slight hope that they might be bypassed. The watermeadow dwellers communicated with each other in a series of sibilant hisses and soft clicking noises, no language that the three friends could distinguish. Then they could sense the reptiles on the log above them. A bulrush spear probed into the hiding place, scratched Dippler's back and raked Dann's paw, poked about in the wet underloam, scraped against the log's underside, then withdrew. Dann, Dippler and Burble lay motionless, knowing that the streambed was swarming with toads, lizards and newts. The foul air was stifling, black mud and a soggy compound of long seasons' dead leaves pressed in on them. They were trapped.

^{Chapter 29}

Ascrod sat out on the flatlands in front of the Abbey. It was a warm moonless night, the land was still and calm. A shudder of delight shook the Marlfox. He had solved the problem. Redwall's main gate was only held shut by a long wooden bar set in open-topped holders, two on either side of the double doors. One good push upward by four strong creatures holding a spear through the central crack between the doors would knock the bar out ' of position. Ascrod had spent an hour at twilight, peering into the crack, even testing the theory by quietly shoving in his axblade and pressing upward. The bar had budged slightly. His plan would work! All that remained was for Predak to return with the army. The Marlfox listened to the warm toll of Redwall's muted twin bells, softly ringing out the midnight hour. With any luck Predak would arrive with Vannan, Raventail and the others in the dawn hour, when all was quiet and the Redwallers would still be abed, suspecting nothing. Blending with the landscape so that he was almost invisible, he lay flat and watched the night sentries idly patrolling the walltop. By dawn, if they were not relieved, those guards would be practically slumbering.

A single skylark began its lone song in the half-light as the vermin army arrived. Under Vannan's directions they filed along the ditch that ran along the west side of the path outside Redwall. Ascrod slid into the ditch, gesturing toward the still figures of the shrews who were acting as wall guards.

"See, just as I figured, they're dozing nicely. I'll wager that apart from a few cooks that whole Abbey is still sleeping."

Raventail pawed keenly at his cutlass. "Besure you right dissa time, magicfox, kye arr!"

Ascrod shot the ferret a withering glance. "Don't worry, my ragged friend, my plan will work. All you have to do is follow orders. Leave the thinking to Marlfoxes."

Raventail licked the stained blade of his cutlass. "Magicfox give order, me'n'mybeasts kill kill plenty!"

Predak gave a long narrow spear to four water rats she had personally selected, big, rough-looking beasts. "Right, let's get it done. You four, follow me and Ascrod. Vannan, wait here until you see our signal, one wave of the spear. Then come quick, no yelling war cries and shouting to let them know we're here. Clear?"

Vannan's pale eyes scanned the waiting horde of bandaged and poulticed vermin, making sure they had heard the order. "Just get the gates open, we'll come silently."

Old Friar Butty had passed a restless night in the gatehouse. It was close to dawn when he guessed the reason he had only slept half the night: he had dozed off and missed supper. The Recorder never slept well on an empty stomach. He decided to have a good early breakfast while helping in the kitchen. The ancient squirrel left the gatehouse and began walking across the lawn toward the Abbey, but he had scarce gone a score of paces when there was a dull thud and the gate bar hit the ground. Friar Butty turned and found himself peering through the half-light of dawn at six creatures, two Marlfoxes and four water rats, one of whom was waving a long spear. Dark shapes poured out of the ditch and into the open gateway. Butty ran as fast as his aged limbs would carry him toward the main building, shouting, "Attack! We're being invaded! Sound the alarm!"

Rusvul was up and about early, helping the breakfast cooks. He was coming out of the door with an apple basket in one paw, heading for the orchard, when he heard the cries. The water rat carrying the spear was chasing Butty, trying to cut him down before he reached the Abbey. Racing hard, he was barely a paw's length behind the old Recorder when he drew back the spear, ready to stab forward. Rusvul's apple basket caught him full in the face at the same instant that the squirrel warrior's flying kick struck his stomach. Rusvul grabbed the spear and flung it, bringing down a ferret who was leading the charge. Seizing Butty's paw, he dragged him headlong into the Abbey and slammed the door shut. Rusvul's roaring boomed through Great Hall as he shot home the bolts on the big door.

"Wake, Redwallers! It's an attack! They're inside the grounds!"

Janglur Swifteye came bounding downstairs, furious. "First night we're not on watch, Rus, an' they're in!"

Guosim shrews, Redwallers and the Noonvale players came hurrying into Great Hall, some half dressed, others still in night attire. Janglur pushed them this way and that, yelling, "Shove the tables over to the windows an' defend 'em! Tragglo, you an' Melilot get all the weapons you can muster! Florian, take yore creatures an' barricade the door, guard it! Sister Sloey, see the Dibbuns stay upstairs out of the way! Rusvul, get to an upstairs window an' see wot's goin' on out there, mate!"

Cregga Badgermum felt blindly about her until she touched Janglur. "What can I do to help?"

Ellayo and Rimrose took the blind badger's paws.

"You come upstairs with us. We'll see what we can do from the upper windows!"

An argument had broken out on the front lawn between Ascrod and Raventail. Dawn was up, the rosy glow illuminating the two quarreling creatures.

"Babarian oaf! I said to come silently when the signal was given!"

"Watch youmouth, magicfox, we came plenty plenty quiet. Oldmouse runnin' away didmuch shoutin', kye arr, that one shoutshout!"

Vannan interrupted the dispute. "He's right, brother, we charged without a single sound. It was the old Redwaller who alerted them."

Ascrod was not in a good mood at their failure to get inside the Abbey building. He turned on his sister, snarling. "Who asked you? There were eight sentries on that wall, but the stupid ferret and his gang slew seven of them, so now we only have one hostage to bargain with. Perhaps you'd like to side with Raventail and slay him too?"

The Guosim shrew Mayon lay on the grass, wounded and bound. He kicked his legs, catching Raventail. "Aye, go ahead an' slay me, slimesnout. I'm tied up an' you've got me outnumbered. Shouldn't be too 'ard for a hero like you!"

The barbarian ferret began kicking Mayon repeatedly. "Kye arr, I kicka you plenty good for dat!"

Ascrod dragged Raventail roughly off the shrew. "Idiot! You kill that shrew, an' I'll slay you!"

Raventail brandished his cutlass under the Marlfox's nose. "Yakkachak! Dat'll be th'day. C'mon, magicfox, you wanta fight Raventail, mefight plentygood, kye arr, plentygood!"

Predak dragged them apart. "What's the matter with you two? We should be fighting the Redwallers. Let's concentrate on getting inside the Abbey!"

Rusvul came downstairs grim-faced to make his report to Janglur. "They're all over the place out there an' our main gates are wide open. Bargle's dead an' six other shrews who were on wallguard. They've got Mayon, he's still alive. What do we do?"

Janglur sat on the bottom stairs, gnawing at his lip. "Well, we can't break out an' fight 'em, they've got us far outnumbered, matey. Then there's the old 'uns an' the Dibbuns to think of. Looks like they've got us boxed in."

Florian was crossing the hall. Shards of crystal glass exploded on the floorstones around him and the hare dodged quickly to one side, his ears standing up with indignation. "They're slingin' stones at the windows. Vandals! Wreckers!"

He sprinted across to one of the tables set by the windows. Leaping upon it, he began returning the stones that had fallen on the table. "Scruffynecked bog-splatchers, take that, an' that too! Haha! I say, you chaps, I got one, right in the fizzog, wot!"

Janglur whipped the sling from around his waist. "Well done, mister Florian! That's wot we can do, Rus, strike back at 'em. Let me at the scum!"

Redwallers lined the broken windows, slinging stones and hurling anything that came to paw at the attackers. However, the vermin fought back with slingstones, spears and arrows. Janglur stooped to help a mole who had been hit by a spear, only to find that he was dead. The squirrel warrior gritted his teeth, calling out to his friend, "Rusvul, go an' get those longbows!"

Rusvul came hurrying back with bows and quivers. "One of 'em's missin', Jang, I can only find two. Wish ole Skipper was 'ere to lend a paw. He could shoot a bow, that 'un!"

Janglur set shaft to bowstring and, standing tall, fired through the broken panes. From outside came a scream.

"So can I when I'm roused, mate, so can I!"

A dozen or more vermin lay transfixed by arrows when Ascrod decided to drop back a bit. He called a halt and ordered a large fire to be lit in the center of the lawn. When it was blazing he stood boldly in front of it and hailed the Abbey.

"Redwallers, listen to me. You're surrounded. Come out!"

Florian Dugglewoof Wilffachop gave the answer. "Come out? Nevah, sir. Why don't you come in an' get us, wot!"

"We could come in and get you if we wait long enough, but by then there'd be a lot of you dead and your young ones would be starving. If you don't come out immediately we'll kill the prisoner we took." Without turning his head, he addressed his next remark to Vannan. "Bring the shrew over here."

Janglur sat on the table edge, looked at Rusvul, then placed his head in both paws. "I don't want to see or hear any of this, mate. You know what they'll do to pore old Mayon."

At a dormitory window the missing longbow was in the paws of the blind badger Cregga. Rimrose was amazed. She had never seen a longbow drawn so far back. The arrow was stretched to its very tip on the string. Cregga kept her face straight ahead, listening to Ellayo.

"Down a bit an' left, Cregga, now up a touch, just a mite, that's it, the shaft's well lined on that villain's head."

The badger released the string with a mighty twang. The arrow carried on, straight through the fire, across the lawn and out through the open gates on to the flatlands, despite the fact that Ascrod was the first target it passed through.

Raventail snatched up a bow and thrust a rag-bound arrow into the fire to set it alight. Tragglo Spearback ducked as the blazing shaft zipped in through a broken window. Raventail's horrendous message fell upon the Redwallers' ears as he screeched savagely, "Burn Redwall! Kye arr! Burn, burn, burn!"

Cutting dark smoking trails, flaming arrows began whirring in through the windows. Foremole Gubbio alerted his crew. "Hurr, get ee buckets o' water an' wetted sacks, 'asten naow!"

Rusvul stared ashen-faced at Florian and Janglur. "They means t'burn this Abbey down with us in it!"

Another volley of blazing shafts came flying in. Redwallers dashed hither and thither amid the smoke, dodging arrows and flapping away at burning tapestry hangings with wet sacks. Foremole and his crew were trying to set up a bucket chain from Great Hall to the kitchens, but the mole leader shook his velvety head in despair as he passed buckets of water. "Hurr, lackaday, us'n's goin' to run short o' water soon!"

Cregga came pounding downstairs to hold a hasty conference with Janglur and Rusvul. They agreed with her plan immediately.

Janglur ordered the scheme into action, quietly and without fuss. "Splikker, arm yore shrews. Tragglo, get all the able-bodied Redwallers together an' see they have weapons. Mister Florian, go t'the windows an' tell 'em we're comin' out."

Florian leapt up on the table, calling to the attackers, "Truce, you chaps, I say, truce! You can pack in tryin' to burn the old place, we're comin' out. Hold y'fire!"

Predak signaled the archers to cease firing, and called back to the Abbeydwellers, "Come out unarmed, all of you, right now, or I'll order the archers to double their fire!"

Florian's head popped into the frame of a broken window. "Keep y'shirt on, Marlfox, we've got wounded an' young 'uns to carry out. Just give us a tick an' we'll be there!"

A pitifully small group had gathered by the door, armed with anything that came to paw. Cregga placed her paws about Janglur and Rusvul. "You're sure you want to do this, my friends?"

Janglur's hooded eyes gazed levelly at the big blind badger. "Wouldn't 'ave it no other way, marm. You just hold that door an' stop 'em gettin' to those inside 'ere."

Cregga's great striped head nodded solemnly. "Never fear, Janglur Swifteye, I'll hold the door as long as Redwall Abbey stands. It has been a pleasure knowing you."

Janglur bowed gallantly. "The pleasure was all mine, marm. Open the door, Reguba!"

Raventail watched as the Abbey door opened slowly. No more than twoscore Redwallers filed out, but he saw the glint of weaponry as the door closed behind them. There they stood, facing the foebeast in the morning sun. The barbarian ferret grinned in anticipation. "Kye arr, theybeasts come out to makefight!"

Florian Dugglewoof Wilffachop had momentarily forgotten all his dramatic eloquence and posturing. He raised a sharpened window pole and roared as he began to dash forward.

"Chaaaaaaarge!"

And charge they did, giving full voice to the time-honored war cries as they hurtled toward the vermin army.

"Regubaaaa! Logalogalogaloooggg! Redwaaaaaallll!"

Vannan stood confidently, watching them come. The vixen drew her ax, remarking to Predak, "So the day of reckoning has finally come. Now they will pay with their miserable lives..."

The Marlfox fell halfway to the ground, propped up by the otter javelin that had slain her.

Otter crews from far and wide charged over the Abbey lawns, headed by Skipper.

"Give 'em blood'n'vinegar, mates! Redwaaaaaaall!"

They flung themselves upon the foebeast like a mighty tidal wave, engulfing all in its path. Big brawny otters, both male and female, tribal tattoos decorating the sinewy paws that wielded sling, javelin and longblade. A rousing cheer rang from the Abbey's dormitory windows, as Dibbuns and elders shouted their heroes on to victory.

"Give um glugg'n'binnaga, mista Florey!"

"Come on, Janglur, me big fat son, show 'em yore a Swifteye!"

"Hurr, you'm give umm billyo, zurr Skip!"

"Rusvul matey, that Marlfox is sneakin' away. Quick!"

Predak had almost made it to the gatehouse when Rusvul came pounding up. The vixen slipped up the west wallsteps, shedding her cloak and causing the squirrel warrior to trip on it. She dashed along the battlements, straight into the waiting grasp of the otter Borrakul. He set his paws in a death grip around the Marlfox's neck. "Now y'must pay for killin' my brother Elachim!"

Raventail fought like a demon, until he was backed up against the Abbey door. Florian could not resist stretching past the ferret Chieftain and striking the door with his pole. "Vermin leader outside, come to call on ye, marm, wot!"

The door opened slightly. Raventail managed a whimper of fear as Cregga's paws shot out and snatched him inside. That was the last anybeast ever saw of the barbarian Raventail, alive.

Skipper dashed up to the walltop and waved his ' javelin. "You vermin, throw down yer weapons an' you'll be spared. Right, mates, surround 'em an' pen 'em at the northwest corner. Slay any who still want t'fight!"

The remaining vermin hastily threw away their weapons. They were herded into the wallcorner, where they sat, paws upon heads. Skipper was about to come downstairs when he noticed Borrakul lounging against the battlements.

"Aye aye, matey, wot 'appened to yore Marlfox?"

The Noonvale otter shrugged, glancing over the wall. "Vanished! You know the way Marlfoxes can disappear, Skip."

Skipper knew it was a long drop from the battlements to the ground below. He nodded at Borrakul, straightfaced. "Aye, I know 'ow Marlfoxes disappear!"

Friar Butty watched the apprehensive faces of the twoscore wretched vermin who had thrown down their arms. The Recorder's voice was stern. "You have no need to fear. We at Redwall keep our word. Your lives are spared, which is more than you or your masters would have done for us, had you won the battle. We do not have prisoners or slaves at our Abbey, so you will be released. You will be split up into eight groups and let free at different times, five to go one way, five to go another, until Redwall is rid of your presence. Brother Melilot will give you each two days' provisions. That is all."

Florian Dugglewoof Wilffachop, restored to his ebullient self, checked Butty. "Oh no it ain't, beggin' y'pardon, Friar sir. Allow me a word with these malicious miscreants, will you? My thanks! Right, listen up, scurvy vermin types, pay attention at the back there! You will clean this Abbey an' its grounds thoroughly before I allow y'to leave, understood? All t'gether now, say yes sir."

The reply was halfhearted. Florian wagged his cane at them. "Not good enough, you villainous chaps. Now speak up or I'll come amongst ye an' liven your ideas up a bit, wot wot!"

Mayon stumped up, a poultice bandage on his shoulder. The tough Guosim shrew winked at Florian. "I'll lend yer a paw, sir. I can see one or two rascals 'ere who aimed kicks'n'blows upon me earlier today. Now lissen t'me, you cowardly lot, I ain't tender-'earted like mister Florian, so if I gives you an order you'd best jump to it or I'll make y'wish you'd been slayed in the battle, understood? Let me 'ear you all say yes sir!"

The mass reply was crisp and clear, as if with one voice. "Yessir!"

Janglur and Rusvul sat with Rimrose and Ellayo in the orchard, listening as Cregga explained everything to the Abbey Dibbuns. "You are all safe now, my little ones, and so is Redwallonce again we can live in peace and good order. Bad creatures tried to take our Abbey from us and we had to do battle with them to preserve our way of life."

Dwopple wrinkled his tiny nose. "Tharra why mista Florey an' Jang an' Rusbul and T'agglo was slaydin' alia vermints out onna lawn. I no liked dat, I was frykinned. Good job Skip corned wiv all h'otters."

Cregga nodded in the mousebabe's direction. "None of us liked it, Dwopple, but we had to do it. Either that or let those evil creatures capture our Abbey. But now there is a lot of mending to do."

Wugger the molebabe piped up helpfully. "Us'n's do ee mendin', marm, me'n'D'opple get big 'ammer an' ee nailers, fix h'Abbey all gudd. Bangitty bang bang!"

Reaching out, Cregga took Wugger upon her lap. "That's very kind of you, sir, but there are lots of different kinds of mending, broken hearts, bad memories, hasty tempers and departed friends. All of these need seeing to before the peace and the seasons grow upon us like soft moss and smooth all the edges of war away, so that you may sleep safe and calm in your beds at night."

Rimrose sat holding Janglur and Ellayo's paws. She sniffed, unable to check the tear that strayed from her eye. "If only our Song were here. Where d'you suppose she an' her young friends are now?"

Cregga lifted her head in the direction of the squirrel wife's voice. "I have dreamed that they will be back before the autumn leaves come down. Don't worry. Wherever your daughter and Dann are, and young Dippler too, I'll wager they're either impressin' somebeast with their good manners or giving a fine account of themselves. Those three are a tribute to their upbringing, wherever they are!"

^{Chapter 30}

It was night at the margin of the watermeadow. Dann lay crushed beneath the rotten elm trunk, listening to the noise above. It became so loud that he was able to whisper to his friends, "I wonder what all the din's about?"

Dippler spat out dead leaves and grit. "We ain't foolin' nobeast, mate. Our tracks lead right to this tree. I bet they're doin' some kind o' victory dance up there, prob'ly gettin' the cookpot ready fer us!"

Burble was inclined to agree with his shrew friend. "Yiss yiss, sad but true, I say. Still, I think it'd be better gettin' captured by some ould reptiles than layin' under this rotten stinkin' thing all night. It's worser'n when we was hidin' up the creek from the River'eads. Wait, what's that?"

Dann listened carefully. "Silence, that's what it is, Burb, silence. Maybe they didn't know we were here after all. What d'you think, shall we go out an' take a look?"

Dippler started scrabbling at the soggy loam to free himself. "Anythin's better'n this. Lead the way, Dann!"

The dried-up streambed was deserted save for the carcasses of several reptiles. The three friends hurried off into the undergrowth, where they sat wiping themselves down and breathing the sweet night air gratefully. Burble tugged a woodlouse from his fur. "Away with ye, wriggly thing, I ain't no rotten treetrunk. Well, 'tis thanks to whoever drove the reptiles off back there, yiss yiss, a thousand thanks!"

"Ach, save yer thanks, laddie, there may still be some o' they sleethery reptails aboot!"

An osprey emerged from the bushes. Surveying them with a distinct twinkle in his rather fierce eyes, he raised his beak and called, "O'er here. They're sair bedraggled an' stinky tae, but they're o'er here!"

There was a lot of bush rustling and pawsteps, and then, unbelievably, a figure they'd lost hope of ever seeing again emerged from the undergrowth at a full dash and threw herself upon them, bowling them over in a laughing, joyful heap.

"Song!"

"Hahaha! So here y'are, you foul-smelling, lovely creatures!"

A fat, stern old squirrel and a big rough female hedgehog hauled Song swiftly off her companions. Dann, Dippler and Burble lay sprawled on the ground as the old squirrel wagged a paw at Song.

"No time for that now, missie. Let's get 'em out o' here. You can introduce us when we're downriver. Whew! An' downwind of 'em too. They smell pretty ripe!"

Song glanced at the muddy state she herself was in from embracing her lost friends, and turned to the old squirrel. "Looks like I'll have to take a bath too, Grandpa."

There were more hedgehogs, over a dozen of them, hulking, rough-looking beasts. They surrounded the friends as the party hurried off through the woodland at the watermeadow's edge. Dann trotted alongside Song, amazed by the turn events had taken.

"Did I hear you call that ole squirrel Grandpa?"

"You surely did. Soon as I saw him I recognized those lazy eyes. He's my father's father, Gawjo Swifteye. Take a look at him yourself. He's much older than my dad, of course, but you'll see the resemblance is unmistakable!"

Dann snatched a peep at Gawjo as he turned to converse with the leading hedgehog. "Aye, now I see him properly the likeness is clear. Who's the big rough-lookin' hedgehog he was talkin' to?"

"I know you'll never believe this, Dann, but she's my aunt!"

Dann stumbled and almost fell. "Your aunt?"

Song was still smiling as they trotted steadily through the night-shadowed woodlands. "Aye, my aunt Torrab. It's a long and complicated story, but here's roughly what happened. My grandpa, Gawjo, was a prisoner on the island in the secret lake for many seasons, but he managed to escape, says he's the only beast who ever did. Anyhow, he made it back to the mainland, but he was completely lost. Then he stumbled upon Torrab and her band of friends, fourteen in all, half-grown young hedgehogs from three different families. Their parents had been slain by Marlfoxes. Grandpa had lost his family toohe didn't know where Ellayo and little Janglur had got to. So he became their dad and has lived with them ever since, and Megraw and I just bumped into him yesterday. I still can't quite believe it."

The odd-looking group had now reached the river on the watermeadow's far fringes, and they turned south along the bank.

Dippler looked back fearfully at the huge osprey hobbling in the rear, protecting the group's back. "I 'ope that big fish eagle's on our side, Song."

The young squirrelmaid winked at the apprehensive shrew. "That's the Mighty Megraw. I have trouble understanding all he says, but since we went over the falls together we've become the best of pals. You'll like him, Dipp. You will too, Burb, once you get to know him."

The watervole glanced back at the fierce-eyed Megraw.

"Ah yiss yiss, missie, I'm sure I will, 'tis a fine powerful bird he is. We'll have t'keep him well fed though, yiss yiss, I'd hate t'be around when that feller feels hungry!"

They halted before dawn at a hidden inlet, a screen of bushes and trees was pulled aside, and Dann, Dippler and Burble gave a delighted shout. "The Swallow!"

The beautiful little boat was in the process of being repaired. It stood upside down on the wide-planked deck of a sprawling hedgehog raft. Torrab and the hedgehogs were about to dash aboard when Gawjo held forth a javelin, barring their way. "Remember yore manners. We've got guests!"

Torrab made an impatient curtsy to the friends. "Prithee, come ye aboard an' welcome!"

Once they were aboard, the hedgehogs charged on to the raft and fought to get through the narrow doorway of a big cabin built at the vessel's center. Gawjo shook his head wearily. "Back! Get back all of you. Now, what've I taught yer?"

Sheepishly the big spiky beasts stood away from the cabin door, the males bowing reluctantly to the females.

"Marm, I pray thee enter."

Once Torrab and the other hogmaids were inside, the males began fighting each other in the doorway again.

Gawjo smiled. "You'll 'ave to excuse 'em. They're fine hogs, but they love to fight. Huh, the trouble I 'ad rearin' 'em was nobeast's business. A squirrel dad with fourteen hedgehog sons an' daughters, who'd believe it. Still, I got me a pretty young granddaughter now, so things are lookin' up, eh, Song?"

Song hugged her grandpa, while Dann looked the Swallow over. "How did y'find her, sir?"

Gawjo stroked the sleek resin-varnished hull. "Swept downriver out o' the mountain she was, full o' holes an' almost broke in two pieces. That's why we were searchin' round the watermeadow. I figgered if'n you were still alive, then that'd be the place you'd land in. Enough jawin' now, you young 'uns. Time to eat, but first y'must jump in the creek an' wash the dirt off. Y'ain't comin' to my table smellin' the ways you do. Megraw!"

The osprey waddled up and dealt Song a buffet with his good wing, toppling her over the deckrail into the water. "Ah ken yell get a guid scrub, lassie. Who's next, eh?"

However, before he could raise his wing again, Dann, Dippler and Burble had thrown themselves into the water.

"Ah now, ye've no need to be helpin' us in, sir, we'll be after scrubbin' ourselves, thank ye, yiss yiss!"

Morning sunlight streamed through the cabin's two unshuttered windows as they took breakfast with Gawjo Swifteye and the hedgehogs. The food was good: hot cornbread with hazelnuts and apple baked into it, and a salad of celery, lettuce, shredded carrot and white button mushrooms, with beakers of hot mint and dandelion tea to wash it down. Megraw took himself out onto the river for a fish breakfast. Gawjo peeled a fat pear with his dagger, outlining his future plans to the reunited friends.

"Everybeast I've come across has a score to settle with the Marlfox brood, meself, Torrab an' the family, Megraw an' yoreselves. So I've decided that the time's come when we travel over to that island. Queen Silth an' her offspring have come to the end of their bullyin', thievin', murderin' rule. I'm out t'clear the earth of their blight!"

Torrab stared at Gawjo over a steaming beaker of tea. "Thou hast tried it before, Father. 'Tis too difficult."

Gawjo tapped the tabletop with his dagger. "Aye, we've always been defeated. Not by the Marlfoxes, but by the lake, a day and night's long sail, with the water teemin' with pike an' that Athrak an' his magpies patrollin' the skies. The Marlfoxes were always waitin' with their water rats once we'd been sighted by magpies, an' they could stand us offshore with arrow an' sling until we were forced to turn back. By the fur an' fang! If only I could get onto that island an' free the slaves, we'd overrun Silth and her forces. I never figured how t'do it, until my pretty Song arrived with 'er secret weapon!"

The squirrelmaid put aside her food. "You mean our eagle, Megraw? But, Grandpa, he can't fly!"

Gawjo's lazy hooded eyes flickered. "Are you sure, me young beauty? I've been watchin' yore eagle. There ain't a pinion feather missin' from his wing, an' 'tis not broken anywhere along its length, that wing. I've studied the way Megraw carries it, sort o' flopped down an' still. Now, I know more about fixin' injuries than mostbeasts, ask Torrab an' her crew. The fish eagle's wing's not broken, 'tis dislocated, where it meets the bird's body. I can reset the wing, put it back in its right place so he can fly again!"

"Do ye no say, Gawjo? Weel, ah'm willin' tae try et if it'll mek mah wing able tae fly again!"

Megraw had been standing near the cabin door, listening to what Song's grandpa was saying. He ambled in, his savage golden eyes flashing. "Ah'd like et fine tae get mah beak an' talons intae yon maggypies whit did this tae me. So, tell us the rest o' yer gran' plan, ye auld treehopper."

The creatures in the cabin crowded around the table as Gawjo Swifteye outlined his scheme, sketching on the tabletop with the point of his dagger. It was a risky proposition, calling for stout hearts and warriors who would not flinch from danger, but it was a good plan. Song watched her grandpa, the stern face and lazy eyes, deceptively quiet voice and perilous easygoing manner. Recalling Janglur Swifteye, her own father, she knew now where he had inherited his bravery and skill as a warrior. Pride flooded through the young squirrelmaid. Swifteyes were a breed of creatures to be reckoned with!

An otter and an aged mouse watched from the slave pens in the courtyard of Castle Marl, as the funeral procession of Queen Silth passed by. In the lead strode the Marlfox Lantur, clad in a purple velvet cloak, trimmed with silver. She wore a polished wood mask, with grieving features etched upon it. Behind her marched the elite guard, armored in shining black, purple pennants hanging from their spearpoints and shield bosses, blacked with firesmoke. Next came the palanquin, draped with white silk curtains, inside which rested the body of the High Queen Silth, founder of the Marlfox dynasty, wrapped tight in the cloth that had once masqueraded as the White Ghost. The entire thing was borne on the shoulders of threescore paw soldiers with bowed heads and measured steps. All around and about the procession, Athrak and his magpies flew, carrying weeping willow twigs in their claws and cawing harshly over the sound of musicians playing dirges on flutes in time to a steady drumbeat.

The otter shook his head in disgust, whispering to the old mouse, "Lookit that 'un walkin' in front, Lantur. Hah! She's laughin' behind that mask, matey, I'd wager a season's vittles on it. Wot a sham it all is! Everybeast on the island knows Lantur killed 'er own mother. Take my word fer it, cully, there ain't a beast walks under the sun wickeder'n a Marlfox!"

The aged mouse tugged his otter friend's whiskers. "Stow that kind o' talk, pal. If Wilce or Ullig 'ears you they'll 'ave yore 'ead for sure!"

Banks of torches blazed on the plateau at the lake edge where the bearers set the palanquin down. Musicians ceased their playing and Athrak's magpies fell silent as they perched on the nearby rocks. All that could be heard were the fathomless waters lapping at the steep island sides and night breezes causing the torchlights to whurr softly. The water rat Wilce stepped forward and presented Lantur with a scroll, specially written for the occasion. The Marlfox unrolled it ceremoniously and read its contents in a voice artistically choked with emotion.

"No more on our isle will your presence be,

Or your voice sound like some silver bell,

Like summer smoke, you have gone from me,

My grief is too mournful to tell.

Great High Queen Silth we commend you,

With loving care to the deep,

May the guardians of waters attend you,

In silent depths of sleep,

Knowing that I, who rule in your place,

Draw all of my wisdom from you,

May show to all, a merciful face,

To your memory, always true!"

Ullig the former Slave Captain took three paces forward, signaling with his spearpoint to the bearers standing immediately behind the palanquin. They lifted the rear carrying poles slowly as the music started again. Tilting at a forward angle, the palanquin was raised above the bearers' heads. White silk hangings at the palanquin's front blossomed out, and Silth's wrapped body slid with a dull splosh into the lake. The body had been weighted with stones, and sank down into the dark waters. All was calm for a brief moment, then the long sleek glint of pike flashed in the torchlight as the ever-ravenous predators rushed to the spot and shot down into the deeps, pursuing the grisly object. Lantur removed her mask, and spreading both paws wide over the waters she called out in a high-pitched whine, "High Queen Silth is dead!"

Immediately, Wilce and Ullig shouted aloud, "Long live High Queen Lantur! Long live High Queen Lantur!"

The cry was taken up by the attendant crowd of water rats until it became a chant. Lantur inclined her head to one side, smiling shyly as Ullig gestured for silence. "What can I say to you, my loyal subjects? I accept!"

Ullig and Wilce were about to lead the cheering when the logboat nosed up to the plateau and Mokkan leapt ashore.

Mokkan had been watching, as usual. He never made a move without first studying the situation shrewdly. From out on the lake he had seen his mother's body being committed to the deep. Making for those he knew to be the two main conspirators, Mokkan seized Ullig and Wilce by their throats. They blanched in fear. Mokkan spoke in a low grating tone, so none but the two water rats could hear. "So this is how you sell out behind my back. Shut up and listen hard. When I give you the nod, both of you get everybeast shouting. And here's what you'll shout..."

Lantur was beginning to feel uneasy. Of all her brothers and sisters, Mokkan was the slyest of Marlfoxes. She watched him carefully. He came to her, his face wreathed in smiles, and clasping her paws he shook them joyfully. "My little sister, High Queen Lantur, what a happy homecoming for me!"

Lantur tried to break Mokkan's grip on her paws, but he was far too strong. He clasped her more tightly.

"What fortune, that I should return the very moment you are proclaimed Queen. Alas, I knew our poor mother's days were numbered, but she'll rest peacefully, knowing she has you to rule in her stead. But wait. I brought back a thing of great beauty for our mother; it shall be my gift to you, High Queen. Here, let me show it to you!"

While he had been talking, Mokkan had maneuvered Lantur to the edge of the rock plateau. He called out to the rats who were dumbly sitting in the logboat awaiting orders. "Open the tapestry, spread it wide. Captain Ullig, tell your bearers to bring forward the torches. Let everybeast see the prize I have brought from afar to celebrate the start of High Queen Lantur's reign!"

The onlookers gasped in wonderment as the fantastically woven tapestry of Martin the Warrior was unrolled in the torchlight. All eyes were upon it when Mokkan made his move. With a quick flick of his paws he pushed Lantur into the lake. She screamed once, thrashing about in the wet shreds of her mother's shroud, which were floating up to the surface. Had she remained still, Lantur might have been pulled to safety. But anything that moved in the waters was fair game to the pike shoals that hunted there. The lakewater boiled briefly as the heavy predators struck, then Lantur was gone. Mokkan nodded to Wilce and Ullig, and they shouted as though their lives depended upon it, which indeed they did.

"A sign, 'tis a sign! Mokkan is the rightful ruler! Hail High King Mokkan! Hail High King Mokkan!"

The last Marlfox of all turned to face his army, with a look combining tragedy, innocence and surprise. "She slipped. I tried my best to hold onto her, but she slipped! Alas, I could do nothing to save her. Lantur was taken by the spirit of the lake!"

Wilce and Ullig appealed to the crowd.

" 'Tis a sign, the lake judged her unfit!"

"Aye, Mokkan rules! Hail High King Mokkan!"

Soon everybeast joined in, shouting themselves hoarse until the din rang across the island.

In the slave pens the otter shook his head woefully at the aged mouse. "So that one's back, eh? I wonder 'ow Mokkan murdered the murderer? I think I'd sooner be a slave than a Marlfox, you live a little longer."

The old mouse shrugged, resting his head against the bars. "Don't be too sure of it, pal. How long d'ye think we're goin' to last with Mokkan as King around here?"

Chapter 31

Morning sunlight shimmered on the river. Megraw balanced on the rail of the raft, watched by everybeast aboard. The osprey flapped his reset wing experimentally, then, slightly doubtful, he set his fierce eye upon Gawjo. "Mah wing still hurts. Are ye sure et's fixed?"

"Sure I'm sure," the old squirrel warrior assured his patient. "The wing's bound to hurt, 'tis stiff through bein' idle. Ye'll have to try usin' it. Go on!"

Megraw launched himself from the rail. Flapping madly, he flew a short distance, then crashed into the river. Torrab and Song extended a long punting pole to him, and Megraw grabbed it in his beak, allowing himself to be pulled up onto the bank. He stood shaking water from his plumage. "Ach, ah kin fly, ah'm sure o' et, but ye lot are mekkin' me nervous, stannin' there watchin' me. Gang aboot yer bizness an' leave me tae mahself!"

"Sure I've seen everythin' now," Burble muttered to one of the big hedgehogs. "An eagle who's too shy to fly? Yiss yiss, that's the blinkin' limit!"

Dann threw a paw about the watervole's shoulders. "Oh, let him be, Burb. Come on, Torrab an' the gang are goin' to show us how t'make hodgepodge pie."

In the cabin the hedgehogs were tossing anything they could find into a cauldron, which sat squarely atop a potbellied stove. The four friends had never seen anything like it. Torrab and her gang went at the business of making hodgepodge pie with wild abandon, singing in gruff off-key voices. What they lacked in melodiousness they made up for in volume. Gawjo had heard it all before, and he clapped both paws over his ears to gain a little peace.

"Oh you take an 'odge, an' I'll take a podge,

If anybeast asks us why,

Jus' tell him that some clever cooks,

Are makin' 'odgepodge pie.

We start with an 'azelnut an' a leek,

"Cos they're wot we likes best,

An' tho' they don't look much to speak,

Till we toss in the rest!

"Odgepodge 'odgepodge, good ole 'odgepodge,

That's the pie for me,

I'll scoff it 'ot at suppertime,

Or wolf it cold for tea.

Oh savage a cabbage, tear a turnip,

Rip ripe radishes too,

Chop up chestnuts, they're the bestnuts,

Chuck in quite a few.

Dannyline ransom, mushrooms 'andsome,

Beetroots nice an' red,

An' watercress, that's more or less,

With piecrust over'ead!

Oh 'odgepodge 'odgepodge, good ole 'odgepodge,

North west east or south,

You can shove it up yore nose, but I suppose,

'Tis better off in yore mouth!

Who loves an 'odgepodge ... Hedge'ogs!"

Surprisingly enough, when it was served at midday, it looked good and tasted even better. Gawjo fought the hedgehogs off, rapping paws with his ladle and muttering darkly about manners. Then he dug through the thick golden piecrust and ladled out portions to them all, steaming hot and delicious.

Dippler scraped his platter clean and winked at Torrab. "Great stuff. I'll 'ave to remember that recipe. Wot's it called, podgepodge pie?"

"Yaakaaareeeeeegh!"

A bloodcurdling scream caused them to leap from their chairs. Gawjo went racing out of the cabin, dagger at the ready.

"Sounds like somethin' bein' torn apart by wildbeasts!"

Hustling and shoving, they piled out onto the deck of the raft. The wild cry cleaved the air once more, and a dark shadow fell over them, causing everybeast to duck as something large hurtled by. Song was knocked flat on her back, but she lay there pointing skyward, shouting with joy. "It's the Mighty Megraw! Look, he's flying!"

With his tremendous wingspread stretching, closing, backing and flapping, the osprey flew as none had ever seen such a big bird fly. Soaring, wheeling, plummeting and twirling out of dives like a corkscrew, Megraw put on an exhibition of flight for his earthbound friends, sometimes skimming so low that his wing pinions clipped their ears. Song felt her heart soar with the eagle. She was thrilled that his wing was healed due to her grandpa's skill.

"Go on, Megraw, fly! Fly! Fly!"

And Megraw did just that. Winging up into the blue until he was a mere speck in the summer sky, he turned and did several victory rolls. Folding both wings tight to his side, the eagle dropped like a thunderbolt toward the raft, and for a breathless moment Song thought he would smash into the deck. But he spread his wings again, and the mighty talons shot out as he swooped and landed on the rail, where he stood with both wings spread to their extent. For the first time since she had met her friend, Song saw the fish eagle in his element. Filled with the exhilaration of his own savage strength, Megraw flapped his wings, shouting aloud his challenge. "Ah'm the eagle whit kin outfly a lightnin' flash! Mah egg was broken by the thunderstorm! Kareeeeeegha! Megraw rules the skies tae the world's edge! These talons o' Mighty Megraw cuid plow a field o' rocks! Oh weep, ye foebeast, there's a braw bonny bird a-comin' yer way! Karaaaaagh!"

Gawjo nodded in admiration of Megraw's brave display. "I take it yore about ready to go to the lake?"

The fierce golden eye winked at him. "Aye, laddie, ah ken ye'll be comin' wi' me?"

Gawjo Swifteye picked up a long raft pole. He nodded at Megraw and his crew. "This very day!"

Out on the river it was broad and fast flowing. The hedgehogs would not let Song or her friends use the raft poles, so they worked on the Swallow, putting the finishing touches to their sleek craft. Torrab and the others formed two lines, port and starboard, and they punted deep with their poles. Gawjo sat on the stern rail, using a broad paddle as a rudder to steer the sprawling vessel. By mid-noon they were cruising free along a wide calm stretch, while the crew sat eating cold hodgepodge pie and drinking cider, watching the raft drift steadily downriver. Song joined her grandpa at the stern rail and showed him her parchment, torn, tattered and barely decipherable from the batterings it had endured.

"Grandpa, 'tis not very clear now, but there were a few lines of the rhyme here, let me see now. Ah, here it is.

"And should you live to seek the lake,

Watch for the fish of blue and gray,

Betwixt those two's the path you take,

Good fortune wend you on your way!"

Gawjo's hooded eyes scanned the waters ahead. "Aye, the fish of blue an' gray, I know 'em well. You'll see those fish afore twilight. I'll say nothin', pretty one. See if'n you can spot 'emyore young an' sharp."

Twilight came as a relief after the long hot day, gold and crimson flakes of dying sunlight dancing on the waters. Song had positioned herself on the forward rail of the raft. She watched keenly from side to side, taking in all, searching for the signs. From the cabin window she could see Grandpa Gawjo and her friends observing her. The young squirrelmaid paid attention to the tiniest details. Rocks lining the banks, trees growing either side, any patches of bare earth. Then she sighted the fork ahead. A rock that was so large it was almost an island in midriver, causing the waters to part and run both sides of it. The left fork wound off sharply east, the right one curving slightly west, but farther downriver straightening to flow due south. It was on the right fork of the island rock that Song spotted the fish. It was a natural spur of the grayish-hued rock, sticking out at an awkward angle, high up. Curiously, it closely resembled a trout, for the shrubbery growing atop it looked like the fish's small dorsal fin. Where the eye would be positioned there was a crack in the stone, with a thick spray of delicate blue-flowering wall speedwell growing out of it.

"Ahoy, me beauty," Gawjo called from the cabin window, "which course do we steer? Has the fish showed you yet?"

Without turning Song held up her right paw. "Take the west fork an' sail due south, Grandpa!"

Gawjo chuckled as he emerged from the cabin to attend his steering paddle at the stern. "Yore a born Swifteye, gel. West'n'south it is!"

Night had fallen when the lake came into view. The river was running steep and fast, with outcrops of rock poking dangerously from its surface. Gawjo gave the order to his crew. "All paws on deck. Pole 'er over these rapids an' keep yore eyes peeled for those rocks. Lively now!"

Song and her companions found themselves standing alongside the burly hedgehogs, pushing and punting with the long raft poles. Burble was slightly tardy lifting his pole and was thrust up into the air, the raft rushing by him. Dippler saw him rise and shouted a warning. "Watervole overboard! Er, I mean up in the air!"

Torrab and one of her burly sisters were aft. They snatched Burble and the pole, heaving them back onto the deck before he was left clinging to a pole in midriver as the raft went on without him. Song and her friends were laughing about it when the big craft began to buck and plunge. A hedgehog shot by, looping them all to the raft with a stout rope. Spray struck their faces, and Dann yelled above the din, "Look out, here we go, mates!"

Song would have been frightened had it not been for the confidence she felt in the skill shown by her grandpa and Torrab's crew. Instead, a wave of exhilaration swept over her as the raft virtually flew down the rapids. Turning and heaving, sometimes head down, other times bow up, night-dark water crested with star-swept spray rushed by in a blur. Megraw balanced firmly on the for'ard rail, calling directions. "Rocks comin' up aheid, swing tae yer left. Left! Left! Noo, awa' right a wee bitty. Hauld 'er steady, laddies, steady!"

Without warning a waterfall came up, and they shot straight over the top, right out into space. The breath was whipped from their mouths as they stood frozen, still holding on to the raft poles, water roaring at their back.

Wwwhhhhrrrrraaaaaakkkkkkkkssssshhhhh! The raft landed flat with an earsplitting splash. Gawjo wiped water from his eyes and shrugged carelessly. "Well, this's the lake. We've arrived."

Even in the darkness they could feel the immensity of a vast body of water, calm and smooth as a millpond in the warm summer night. Everybeast aboard collapsed into a sitting position, dog-weary and gasping.

Gawjo was first to recover, and he paced the deck sternly. "Come on, me babies, up on yore paws, we're stickin' out like a bandaged ear if'n any foebeast shows up. Let's get 'er ashore an' into some cover. Jump to it, crew!"

They chose a spot farther east on the lakeshore, where trees grew thick, willows on the fringes dipping their branches into the water. Waist deep in the lake, they levered the raft onshore with the punting poles. Burble stumbled and spat out a mouthful of muddy liquid. "A proper ould slave driver that grandpa of yores is, Song. Yiss yiss, a right ould whipcracker!" ¹

Gawjo's hooded eyes appeared over the stern, staring straight at the grumbling watervole. "Wot was that you were burblin' about, Burble?"

"Er, ah, 'twas nothin', sir, yiss yiss, nothin'. We're all doin' a fine grand job down here, enjoyin' ourselves, yiss!"

Dawn was streaking the lake with beige and pink amid low-lying cloudbanks. The stillness was eerie; there were no sounds of singing birds over the far-reaching inland sea. From stem to stern the raft was covered with boughs and fronds, tufts of vegetation and shrubs. Song thrust a final willow bough into the cabin chimneytop and climbed wearily down to the deck. She threw her grandpa a limp salute. "All covered, sir. Permission to sleep?"

A smile hovered around Gawjo's slanted eyes as he nodded at the exhausted crew. They had worked hard and well. "Hmmm. Well, all right, permission granted. Y'can all sleep standin' on yore heads with one eye open."

Dippler bit his lip with feigned emotion. "O sir, yore too kind to us ungrateful wretches!"

Gawjo tweaked the shrew's ear. "Aye, maybe I am, so I'll stay awake an' cut the throat of any crew member found snorin'. HowTl that do ye?"

Dann sniggered. "Better cut yore Song's throat right now!"

"Ooh, you listen, Dannflor Reguba, you're the snorer, not me!"

"Oh yiss yiss, Dann's a grand ould snorer, but I think the champion's got t'be me good mate Dipp, yiss yiss!"

"Hah! Stripe me blue, look who's talkin'. Anybeast out on that lake'd think it was a foghorn if you kicked off snorin'!"

"Who, me? Ooh, y'fibber, watervoles don't snore, 'tis a fact!"

Gawjo shook with laughter as he watched the indignant young creatures. The old squirrel cut short the dispute with a wave of his paw. "Hah! Snore, you think you can snore? Now Torrab an' these hogs, they can snore! I'll be surprised if there's a leaf left on any tree within the area by the time they're done snorin'. Huh, you ain't heard snorers until you've slept in the same cabin as my family. I should know, 'tis me who's had to suffer these many long seasons!"

Torrab gave Gawjo an affectionate pat, nearly knocking him flat. "Thou sayest the nicest things, ancient one!"

Song giggled. "Give him another pat, Auntie Torrab!"

Whether through excitement or overtiredness, the occupants of the cabin had difficulty in getting to sleep. Dippler propped himself up on a cushion. "C'mon, Song, give us a little tune. Mayhap that'll help us to doze off. Yore grandpa ain't heard you singin'."

Song recalled a ditty of her Grandma Ellayo's that reminded her of the joy she felt at watching Megraw fly.

"I sit alone and wish that I

Could be a bird up in the sky,

I'd join the breezes that do blow,

Whichever way they chanced to go,

Far o'er the waves, across the sea,

I'd drift along quite happily,

Or maybe out on field and fen,

I'd circle round some forest glen.

I envy bee and butterfly,

Maybe the birds could tell me why

I wipe a teardrop from my eye,

I sit alone, for I can't fly."

In actual fact it was Gawjo who was wiping a teardrop from his eye, his mind wandering back over the seasons. "Ellayo my wife used to sing that, almost as pretty as you do, Song. Of course, she was much younger in those days."

Song stroked the old gray head of her grandpa. "She's still young at heart, you'll see."

Gawjo stretched out, closing his eyes. "Maybe I will, if we live through what lies ahead, young 'un."

Outside it began to rain, softly at first, increasing as a breeze sprang up over the vast reaches of the hidden lake.

One of Silth's ceremonial cloaks, held on the spear-points of two soldiers, provided cover for Mokkan against the driving rain. The Marlfox was in high spirits, far too cheerful to allow a wet morning to ruin his joy. Striding across a high-walled roof at Castle Marl, he peered over at the ground far below. "Set it up here!"

With the aid of twelve slaves, Wilce and Ullig staggered forward, bent beneath the weight of Queen Silth's palanquin. Grunting and groaning, they strained upward until it rested precariously atop the wall. Wilce and Ullig stood bareheaded in the rain among the slaves, awaiting King Mokkan's pleasure. He flicked a paw dismissively at them. "You two, shove it over!"

It needed only a slight push, and then there was several seconds' silence, broken by a rending crash. The Marlfox giggled like a youngster as he stared over the walltop at the smashed palanquin on the ground.

"I always hated that thing. Tell somebeast to burn what's left of it when the weather clears up. Right, follow me, come on, come on, all of you!"

Wilce and Ullig exchanged apprehensive glances before running in the wake of slaves and soldiers after Mokkan, down the winding slopes of the castle's corridors. The Marlfox rushed helter-skelter in the lead, and arrived at the door of Castle Marl's main chamber smiling and exhilarated.

"What took you so long? Haha, getting too fat, Ullig, and you Wilce. Inside, all of you, step smartly now!"

A big carved oak chair had been set in the center of the floor. Mokkan practically skipped over to sit on it. He banged his paws down on the chair arms. "What d'you think? Not bad, eh? Of course, it's not a real throne, but it'll do until I have one made. The throne of High King Mokkan. Hahaha, I like that! If my fool brothers and sisters have survived they'll meet a fine welcome if they try to return."

He waved imperiously at the two water rats who had been holding the cloak aloft with their spears. "You've been with me since I left Redwall Abbey, right?"

The two stolid guards nodded silently. Mokkan leapt up, energy surging through him, and smiling and winking at the two dullards he clapped their backs heartily. "Tell me your names. Speak up, don't be afraid!"

"Toolam, er, sire, er, Majesty!"

"Durrlow, your Majesty!"

The Marlfox paced a circle around both rats, looking them up and down approvingly. "Good honest soldiers, faithful and obedient, just what a King needs. Durrlow, you are now my Personal Adviser. Toolam, I promote you to be Commander of my army!" Adopting a look of mock sadness, he nodded at Wilce and Ullig. "Loyalty brings its rewards, you see. I always told you, never trust a vixen, and now look what Lantur has brought you to. Oh, don't look so glum. I've found an important job for you both, so cheer up!"

The two water rats managed to put on uneasy smiles. Mokkan winked mischievously at them. "You can hang my beautiful tapestry for me. Hmm, let me see, that wall over there should do. Toolam, Durrlow, see to it that they hang it good and straight, use your spearbutts to chastise them if they don't. Ullig, I'm sorry, my old friend, I can't afford an untrustworthy Captain, so you're back to being a rank-and-file soldier again. Wilce, you've had it too easy for long enough, it's back into uniform for you, I'm afraid. Right, that's that! I'm off to see what the cooks have prepared for my breakfast. I'm famished enough to eat a meal fit for a King. Fit for a King, good, eh? Hahahaha!"

Mokkan paused at the door and pointed to the slaves. "You'll find that nothing escapes your new King's notice. Work hard and well, I may free you from slavery and promote you to be soldiers in my army, tell your friends this. And you soldiers, if I find you to be slow and lazy, then I'll take away your uniforms and make slaves of you, let your comrades know this. But remember this, all of you, even think of playing me false and you'll find out the lake still possesses teeth. Make sure everybeast knows that!"

The door slammed, and the self-proclaimed King Mokkan could be heard trotting off down the sloping passage, laughing at the echo of his own voice. "I'm feeling hungry today, hungry! Hahahahaha!"

The slaves were left in a bewildered group by the door, murmuring quietly to each other.

"Never 'eard nothin' like that in all the time I been 'ere."

"Aye, he's as mad as his mother was!"

"It must be the sudden power gone to his brain, I think."

"Huh, I'd sooner be dead than serve a Marlfox as a soldier!"

"Crazier than his sister was, if'n y'ask me!"

"Who's bothered about wot we think? Nobeast asks a slave anythin', mate, they tells them!"

A water rat soldier prodded the speaker roughly with his spear. "Stow the gab there. Silence, you lot! Back down t'the pens with yer, quick march. One two, one two ..."

The hefty hedgehog maid, who had made the final remark, muttered to her companion, a grizzled old shrew, "See wot I mean, friend?"

Toolam gestured at the rolled tapestry. He felt nervous and unsure at issuing orders to creatures who had formerly been his superiors. "Er, pick it up!"

Without any argument Wilce and Ullig bent to lift the tapestry. Suddenly Toolam was seized by a wave of confidence he had never felt before. Inflating his narrow chest, he realized that he really was Commander of the army. A slow grin suffused his normally expressionless features. "Be careful y'don't damage it, you clumsy fools!"

Durrlow joined him, eager to exploit his newfound powers. "Aye, or you'll feel our spear 'andles, you butter-pawed oafs!"

As Wilce and Ullig staggered to the wall with the tapestry slung carefully between them, Toolam and Durrlow grinned at each other and swaggered boldly behind the subdued pair. They had begun to realize that power was a mighty intoxicating thing to possess.

^{Chapter 32}

Gray afternoon cast its pall over the lake. Sheeting rain swept back and forth, causing the surface to spatter under a ceaseless bombardment of drops. When the raft had been poled clear of the shallows, Gawjo dropped a piece of trout, donated by the Megraw, into the lake. It drifted beneath the water for a moment, then two pike struck, dragging it under as they fought for possession of the morsel. Torrab watched over the old squirrel warrior's shoulder.

"Methinks 'tis time we sought out the bows, Father."

Gawjo wiped fishy paws on his jerkin, nodding agreement. "Aye, daughter, this is where the pike shoals start."

Short bows with thin sharp arrows were fetched from the cabin. Torrab and six other hedgehogs notched shafts to their bowstrings and began firing arrows in a sloping direction at the water. Soon a pike was hit. It thrashed about close to the surface, vicious and hookjawed, a real lake monster. The arrow had wounded it, causing a blood trail in the water, and with terrifying speed it was attacked by a horde of other pike. The hedgehogs shot arrows furiously into the shoal, hitting the big fish indiscriminately, until Gawjo gave the order to stop firing.

Song had watched the whole thing from a cabin window. She did not like to see any living thing slain needlessly. The squirrelmaid questioned her grandpa as he stamped into the cabin, snaking rain from himself. "Why were you shooting at the fish, Grandpa?"

Gawjo sat down at the table, wriggling a paw in his damp ear. "All part o' the plan, me young beauty. This lake's swarmin' with pike. They've tried to attack us before nowyou don't realize how big an' dangerous some o' those fish've become. So the plan is to shoot one. The pike are natural cannibals, they'll go for that 'un an' eat it. So we shoot a few more an' pretty soon they come far far'n'wide to feed on 'em."

Song shuddered. "Ugh! How horrible!"

Gawjo shrugged, pouring himself some hot mint and dandelion tea. "Aye, 'tis not a pretty sight, but that's the nature o' pike. They fight o'er eatin' their own so fiercely that they bite each other, causin' more blood t'flow. Before you know it nearly all the pike in the lake are gathered there, snappin' an' rippin' each other to bits. While their blood lust is on them they won't bother us or our raft."

Megraw watched the rainy skies from the window. "Whit a waste o' guid food! Nary a sign o' they maggypies oot on yon lake yet. Mebbe inclement weather's keepin' 'em close tae hame on their isle."

Gawjo sipped his tea gratefully. "The weather's on our side an' the wind's drivin' us toward the island. With luck we may make land by the morrow's dawn."

Burble picked up a small stringed instrument from the corner where he was sitting and twanged it.

"Can anybeast be after playin' this thing? May'ap Song'll give us a ditty, yiss yiss?"

A huge male hedgehog relieved Burble of the instrument. "Nay, rivermousey, sound doth carry far o'er waters like these."

Song pulled a face at her friend. "He's right, y'know, rivermousey. You'll have to recite us one of your rivermousey poems, nice and quiet now!"

Burble's fur actually bristled with indignation. "Sure I'll recite nothin' while I'm bein' insulted. If anybeast calls me rivermousey once more I'll fight 'em. Yiss yiss, so I will! I don't call you treewalloper, do I?"

Song laughed at her bristly companion. "Call me what y'like, I don't care. Rivermousey!"

Dippler burst out laughing. "Hawhaw haw! Rivermousey, that's a good 'un!"

Burble rounded on him with a wicked grin. "Who asked you, boatbottom?"

The cabin became a verbal battleground as laughing and giggling they hurled insults at one another.

"Hohoho! Boatbottom, that's a great name for you, Dipp!"

"Ho is it now, Dannflower broomtail. Hawhaw haw!"

Gawjo joined in. "Heehee, flopears is a better name for that 'un, or popplepaws. Heeheeheehee!"

"Popplepaws yoreself, ole baggybarrel-belly! Yaha-haha!"

Torrab poked her head round the cabin door. "Be there any within to relieve the watch this day?"

She was greeted with a barrage of impudent merriment.

"Go 'way, spikybonce!"

"Aye, push off, needlenose!"

"Out in the rain with ye, soggy hog!"

"Go an' watch yoreself, squelchspines!"

The burly hogmaid grinned and called to Megraw, "What about thee, binnaclebeak?"

Dropping down from the window, Megraw spread his massive wings and glared about him savagely, raising a hooked talon. "Whit was that ye callit me, marm? Nary a beast livin' meks sport o' the Mighty Megraw!"

A moment later they were all out on the deck, soaking in the rain, gazing at the locked cabin door.

Burble sighed. "Sure, an' I wonder why 'tis that eagles don't have any sense o' humor at all. We had to run for our lives there!"

Megraw sat alone in the locked cabin, muttering darkly, "Naebeast speaks ill o' mither Megraw's eggchick. Ye'll stay oot in the elements until ye apologize tae me!"

Apart from the skies lowering darker a little, noon, twilight and evening remained virtually the same. Sheeting rain driving southward in heavy curtains over the lake surface as far as the eye could see, with a moderate wind spurring the raft ever onward toward the island. Megraw had been placated, but he deserted the cabin, choosing to stay on deck beneath a canvas awning, watching for sign of magpies. Gawjo lashed the tiller in position and joined his crew in the warm, cozy cabin, where a cheerful fire glowed within the potbellied stove.

He lifted the lid from a cauldron, sniffing the simmering aroma. "By the seasons, that smells good'n' decent. Wot is it?"

Dippler checked the contents, sprinkling in a pawful of sweet ground arrowroot to thicken up the sauce further.

"That's a seagoin' recipe, sir, called skilly'n'duff. Log a Log used t'make it for the Guosim, when we followed the waters down to the great ocean."

Torrab hovered about the young shrew impatiently.

" 'Twill soon be ready, I trust?"

Dippler added more of the arrowroot and stirred it slowly. "Aye, soon now. The skilly is a thick sweet sauce with all manner o' good things in. That big pudden floatin' about in it is the duff, stuffed with wild plums, damsons, blackberries an' chopped chestnuts, all cased up in a ball o' spongy pastry, bit like a great dumplin'. Nothin' like it to cheer up a body on a rainy ole night, you'll see!"

The entire crew voted Dippler's skilly'n'duff delicious, some of the big hedgehogs noting down the recipe for use on winter nights. The Guosim shrew recalled a comic seagoing monologue concerning the dish.

"Aboard the good ship Wobblechop,

I sailed when I was young,

First in line an' feelin' fine,

When the dinner bell was rung.

Our Cap'n 'ad a fog'orn voice,

An' boots as big as me,

'Stand by, me lads, 'ere comes a ship,

'Tis a pirate craft!' cried he.

Whoa skilly'n'duff, that's the stuff,

To keep nearby when things get rough!

The pirate Cap'n was a rat,

His name was Itchee Scratch,

Upon his nose, why goodness knows,

He wore a red eyepatch.

'Haul to, ye dozy lubbers,

I'm fat'n'bad an' tough,

An' I smells plunder on the air,

Wot might be skilly'n'duff.'

Whoa skilly'n'duff, that's the stuff,

Us waterbeasts can't get enough!

Well I tell you, me word 'tis true,

Our crew got quite upset,

To rob a sailor's dinner was,

The worst thing we'd 'eard yet,

So we put down our bowls'n'spoons,

Then armed ourselves with slings,

We slung at those ole pirate rats,

A dozen kinds o' things.

Whoa skilly'n'duff, that's the stuff,

To eat while fightin' searats gruff!

That pirate Cap'n he got shot,

By a barrel load of peas,

Wot blacked his eyes an' stung his thighs,

An' fractured all his knees.

We hit the crew with onion skins,

Big cabbage stalks as well,

With hardcrust pies an' 'orrible cries,

They splashed into the swell.

Whoa skilly'n'duff, that's the stuff,

When vermin crews you must rebuff!

As Wobblechop sailed away that day, We sang a jolly song,

The bottlenosed cook with laughter shook,

As the dinner bell went bong.

I'm old an' fat with a greasy hat,

But this to you I say,

I must've scoffed a score o' bowls,

Of skilly'n'duff that day.

Whoa skilly'n'duff, that's the stuff,

When winter winds do howl'n'puff!"

High King Mokkan slept, though not peacefully or well, that night. The Marlfox's dreams were a nightmare of disjointed visions. Lantur, the sister he had slyly murdered, kept trying to drag him ifito the pike-infested lake, smiling wickedly at him and repeating a hollow chant.

"Never trust a vixen, never trust a vixen!"

He turned to run, but was confronted by the brothers and sisters he had deserted. Their faces pale and wan, they pointed accusingly at him, murmuring, "Blood for blood, a Marlfox lies slain, somebeast must pay, blood calls for blood!"

He fled from them and, seeking safety, found himself leaping into his mother's palanquin. However, he was surrounded not by a silk curtain, but by the tapestry from Redwall Abbey. Stern-faced and fearless, the mouse warrior figure stepped out from the tapestry and raised his magnificent sword. Panic such as he had never known seized Mokkan. With the blood in his veins like ice water, he hurled himself from the palanquin. Time stood still, and the Marlfox stumbled slowly to the ground, only to find himself confronted by others. A grim-faced young squirrel wielding the same sword that the warrior mouse had brandished, a squirrelmaid armed with a rod tipped by a glowing green stone, a great black and white eagle, talons spread, beak open. Creatures he could not identify, a watervole, a shrew, hedgehogs, all gathered around him, and his mother's voice echoed mockingly in the gloom.

"Hail, High King Mokkan, last of the Marlfox brood!"

Grabbing his cloak, he hid his face in it and screamed, but the scream died to a whimper as the cloak tightened around his throat, threatening to strangle him. "No, please, noooooooo!"

Mokkan woke on the floor of his bedchamber with a silken sheet, which had become caught on a bedpost as he rolled about trying to escape the dark world of fearful slumber, wrapped tightly about his neck. Throwing open the chamber door, he glared wildly at the two water rat sentries standing immobile in the flickering torchlight. They gazed back dully at the new High King, panting, disheveled, with a bedsheet draped around his neck. Slamming the door, he retreated back into the bedchamber, taking a deep draft of wine from a pitcher and tossing aside the sheet. Then he stood at the window, letting the rain cool his fevered brow, staring out into the dark wet night. What acts of murder and treachery had his own mother committed that she too always slept uneasily? Was this what it was like to gain the power of kingship?

Chapter 33

Gawjo had taken the last night watch on deck. The rain slacked off to a steady drizzle before dawn when the old squirrel warrior returned to the cabin. Checking that the stove fire was burned down to white ashes, he unshuttered both windows.

Megraw stirred from his perch on a shelf. "Ah ken et'll be a big day taeday, auld 'un?"

Gawjo Swifteye was still nimble and strong, despite his many seasons. He took down a short lance from the motley array of weaponry hanging from the wall. "Aye, friend, 'twill be a big day, shorter for some than others before 'tis over. Come on, crew, stir yoreselves, the island of Marlfoxes is in sight!"

Song stared around herself in the half-light. Her grandpa and the hedgehogs were ready and armed.

Burble sat up rubbing sleep from his eyes. "Well, wotever happens later can wait, yiss yiss, I'm hungry right now, so I am!"

Dippler and Dann were already at the table, helping themselves to warm fruit cordial and oatcakes that had been baked the night before.

Megraw hopped up to an open window. "Nae use a-waitin' for yon maggypies tae find us, ah'm thinkin'. This time ah'll catch them nappin'. Guid luck, see ye later!" Launching himself from the windowsill, the great eagle sailed off into the rising dawnstreaked skies.

Gawjo addressed his remaining crew. "Friends, you all know wot t'do. Dann, we'll give you an' Torrab until midmornin'. Is the Siuallow ready?"

Dann strapped the sword across his back, nodding to Torrab and the other four hedgehogs he would be traveling with. "She's ready, sir, well stocked with weapons too."

Gawjo shook the young squirrel's paw heartily. "Luck go with ye, Dannflor Reguba!"

Song, Dippler and Burble pushed the boat out from the raft's port side. Sitting behind the hedgehogs, Dann waved his paddle. "See you later, mates, I hope!"

The three friends waved to him silently, then stood by their poling positions at the side rails. Gawjo called out from the stern, where he sat plying the tiller, "No time to waste, crew. Let's get there quick as we can!"

All eyes were fixed on the mysterious island looming up, dark and forbidding, with Castle Marl dominating its rocky landing plateau.

Owing to the previous day's events, when the rule of the island had changed so swiftly, the castle courtyards, front and back, lay silent. Mokkan had let the guards celebrate, and they were not yet up and about. In the slave pens the captives were beginning to stir. An old mouse stood with his face pressed to the bars. Behind him a grizzled otter hauled himself stiffly up from the damp straw that served them as bedding. "Wot's 'appenin' out there, matey?"

The mouse was joined by a sturdy hedgehog maid. "Well, it ain't brekkfist, that's for shore. Where's the guards today? Still sleepin', I suppose."

"They'll appear all in good time. After all, we ain't goin' nowheres, are we?" called a squirrel slave from the back of the pen.

The mouse chuckled humorlessly at his dry remark. "Right enough there, friend. We may's well make the best of our extra rest. Better'n toilin' in the fields drenched by that rain we had yesterday. I'm still damp all over."

They sat in silence for a while, watching the clear dawn rise, thankful that the rain had ceased. The otter suddenly cocked his head on one side, listening. "Wot was that noise? I 'eard a funny sound."

"Prob'ly my stomach tellin' me mouth it's time to eat."

Catching the hedgehog's paw, the otter silenced her. "No, it wasn't that, mate. Lissen!"

Something metallic clinked against the back walltop, then clinked again as it fell back. There was a whirring noise, followed by a brief silence. A thick knotted rope flew down past the bars with a three-pronged grappling hook tied to its end that hit the courtyard stones with a ringing clank. Dumbfounded for a moment, they stood looking at it, then the hogmaid moved swiftly. Grabbing a piece of wet sacking, she lay flat and flopped it through the bars. It caught on the grapples, and she pulled it back in until the hook was in her reach. Her paws shook with excitement as she held on to the rope and the grappling hook.

The old mouse gazed at it in disbelief as the other slaves crowded round. "Why'd anybeast want to throw that to us?"

Wedging the hook firmly between the bars, the otter gave the rope three sharp tugs. He too was shaking all over. "One thing's shore, it ain't Marlfoxes, water rats or magpies. Whoever 'tis they must be friends. Let's 'elp 'em!"

Dann came shinning over the back wall. At the top he gave a swift look around, then signaled down to the hedgehogs below. A moment later he had dropped down into the courtyard and was staring into the pen at the emaciated slaves pressing forward to the bars. Unshouldering his sword, he flashed them a quick smile. "Good morrow to ye, mates. I'm Dann Reguba. Anybeast fancy bein' liberated today?"

Raising the sword high, he swung it down energetically, shearing the lock from the slave pen door with one mighty swipe. Slaves stood gawping in amazement. Dann swung the door open as they found their tongues.

"Did y'see that? He chopped off the lock an' his blade ain't even nicked. By thunder, that's some kind o' sword, mates!"

"Dann Reguba, wot sort o' name is that?"

"I know, I've 'eard it afore. That 'un's a mighty warrior, I'm with him. Woe t'the beast who stands in the way of a Reguba!"

A shudder of pride ran through Dann. He strode into the cage and was surrounded by creatures trying to shake his paw, all of them with tears in their eyes at the unexpected arrival of help. Torrab followed with her hedgehogs, bundles of arms strapped to their backs. They passed out spears, slings, blades and javelins to the eager captives. An otter spoke for his fellow slaves as he loaded stone into sling. "Just say the word, Dann. We're with you all the way, mate!"

Dann closed the door, hanging the broken lock back in place. "Sit tight here, friends, you'll get the word soon enough!"

Overhead a harsh screeching of birdcall cut the morning air, followed by a mighty flutter of wings and the hunting call of an eagle. Feathers fell like a miniature snowstorm into the courtyard. Dann had no need to look. He knew the Mighty Megraw was wreaking vengeance upon his enemies. Magpies shrieked harshly with terror, more feathers swirled to the courtyard stones and floated into the pen. Slaves ran to the bars, clutching at them as they struggled to catch a glimpse of retribution being visited on the hateful birds, straining and craning their necks upward, pushing against the bars.

"An eagle, 'tis a great eagle up there, huntin' magpies!"

There was a thud on the pen roof, and the huddled carcass of Athrak rolled off onto the stones below.

"The eagle's slain Athrak! Look, look!"

From above, the osprey's war cry could be heard as he pursued magpies out across the lake.

"Remember me, mah bonny bairns, ah'm no half asleep an' helpless now, ah'm the Mighty Megraw, death on wings tae ye! Krrreeeeegaaaaah!"

Guards came tumbling out of their barracks, still sleepy-eyed, buckling on armor and stumbling over weapons. Dann kicked open the slave pen door, and hurtled out with an army of slaves brandishing weapons behind him.

"Chaaaaaarge!"

The raft thudded in against the rocky plateau. Song and her grandpa leapt ashore as mooring ropes snaked out behind them. Securing the raft, Gawjo was forced to duck as a small cloud of magpies sped low overhead, pursued by the Mighty Megraw. They fled out across the lake with the eagle hard on their tails like some avenging beast.

Gawjo gripped Song's paw as the sound of Dann and his slave army giving their battle cry rang out from the castle above. "Stay by me, pretty one. The family'd never forgive me if anythin' happened to you. On the double, crew!"

They charged up the slope toward Castle Marl, slamming the gatehouse door shut as they passed and locking the half-awake guards inside. As they burst into the front courtyard, Song caught a glimpse of Mokkan at an upper chamber window. At once she remembered the original purpose of their quest.

"Dipp, Burb, there's the Marlfox. Come on, that's where the tapestry must be!"

For Mokkan it was like a continuation of his nightmare. There below in the courtyard of Castle Marl, the creatures he had fled from in dreams were staring boldly up at him. Fear gripped the Marlfox and he looked about wildly, seeking an avenue of escape. The shrew logboat he had arrived in still lay moored to one side of the rock plateau that served as a jetty. That was it! Dashing from his room, he motioned at the two guards posted outside. "Follow me! Slay anybeast who tries to stop your King!"

They ran obediently with him, along the corridor sloping upward to Wilce's former room, which now belonged to Toolam, Commander of the army. Mokkan burst in on the slumbering rat. "Rouse yourself, fool, foebeasts are at large in the castle!"

Toolam rushed to get his new armor on over a voluminous nightgown, then hefted his heavy spear. "Er, sire, your word is my command, er, y'Majesty!"

"Muster the soldiers, every one, sweep these invaders from my island, slay them or take them prisoner! I will see you when this incident is finished. Fail me and you will go to serve the Teeth of the Deeps. Go now. You two, go with him!"

When they had gone, Mokkan dropped his heavily embroidered cloak of kingship and slunk swiftly down to the main chamber. There he donned his old cloak of dull brown and green weave. Immediately a transformation came over him, and his pale eyes glowed. Now he was a proper Marlfox once more, and everybeast knew that Marlfoxes were magic, invisible! Blending in with the stones of the wall, Mokkan slipped off down the back corridors.

Burble panted along with Dippler in Song's wake, staring around in puzzlement. "Dipp, will y'look at this place, there's neither step nor stair anywheres, 'tis all slopes, yiss yiss?"

Song rounded on the pair and pulled them into a darkened alcove, beckoning them to silence as the sound of clanking spears against breastplates reached her ears. "Somebeast dashing down to the courtyard. Stand by!"

Toolam and the two water rat sentries came into view, hurrying clumsily down the slope. Song whispered, "One each, wait until they pass!"

No sooner were the three vermin past the alcove than Song and her two friends hit them from behind. Amid a resounding jumble of weaponry and armor the three rats crashed headlong into the wallstones and slid down senseless. Song could not resist a slight giggle.

"Sounded like somebeast tripping into a broom closet at Redwall Abbey. Come on, the Marlfox's room must be somewhere up this passage. Go careful now, he'll have heard the noise."

There were other chambers either side of the torchlit passage, but Song knew right away that the one with ornate double doors would be the chamber where the Marlfox had been sighted. Dippler and Burble had armed themselves with the sentries' spears. Brandishing her Leafwood stick, Song gave them a quick nod. They charged the doors yelling their battle cries.

"Logalogalogaloooog! Waylahoooo! Redwaaaaaalllll!"

The doors were not locked, in fact they were not even closed properly, and they slammed inward under the force of the charge. Song, Dippler and Burble exploded into the chamber, heads over tails in a mad jumble. The squirrelmaid was first upright, ready to do battle, but feeling rather foolish at the instant realization that she was facing an empty room. Dippler and Burble sat up, gazing around the chamber in awe. Silken hangings, burnished metal mirrors, incense burners and satin cushions were everywhere. The watervole scurried over to the large carved oaken chair that was serving as the High King's temporary throne and plumped down on it. "Yiss yiss, this is a grand ould chair, so 'tis. I always promised meself one of these. I think I'll plunder it!"

Song and Dippler were not listening. They were staring at the great Redwall tapestry, hanging in all its glory. Martin the Warrior's likeness seemed to smile down on them both.

Dippler clasped his friend's paw. "Wait'll Dann sees this, missie. You've completed yore quest!"

Pride flooded through Song. It had been a long and perilous journey, but they had completed it successfully.

Snapping out of her reverie, she rousted Burble from his plundered throne. "Come on, cushytail, up with you, we need this chair!"

She and Dippler dragged it over to the wall where the tapestry hung. Climbing onto the seat, they began taking down the heavy object, with Burble hopping about protesting. "Ah go easy now, don't scratch the woodwork, watch how y'treat me lovely ould chair, yiss yiss, be careful!"

Rolling the tapestry up, they stood it behind one of the doors. Dippler tore down a silk wall hanging and draped it over the prize, effectively hiding it from view. "There, it should be safe enough here for the moment. What's up, Song? What're ye lookin' round like that for?"

"Where did the Marlfox go? There's another thing, too. Have you noticed that it's gone quiet out there?"

Burble looked up from the chair he was covering with drapes. "Yiss yiss, y'right there, mate, there should be a grand ould battle ragin' round this castle by now, but there's not a single peep from outside. Well now, there's me plunder all wrapped up nice'n'tidy. Let's go an' take a look!"

As soon as Dann and his party had charged, the guards fled back into their barracks and locked themselves in. Torrab posted two hedgehogs and several freed slaves in front of the barracks, calling in a loud voice so the water rats could hear, "Stay thou by here, slay any who come out!" She turned with a shrug to the bemused Dann. "Mayhap yon vermin do not move without command from some Captain or Marlfox. They bear the look of beasts who be not overburdened with much intelligence."

Dann took a parting glance at the dull-faced soldiers penned within their own barracks. "Aye, I think yore right, Torrab. Let's go and see how Gawjo an' the others are farin' at the front entrance."

Ullig and Wilce were in the main barracks, demoted to the rank and file. When they saw Gawjo and his small force enter the courtyard, both vermin grasped immediately their chance of being restored to favor. After a hasty conference together, they took up weapons. Ullig faced the horde of soldiers, who were lounging about awaiting orders from Toolam, who had not yet appeared. "Arm yourselves, there are enemies within our gates. Hurry!"

The rats looked at him but made no move. Wilce shook her spear at them, haranguing the indifferent vermin. "You heard him, idiots. Pick up your weapons!"

One, bolder than the rest, sat down on his bed. "You ain't officers no more, yore only the same as us. We ain't takin' no orders of'n yer!"

Wilce's brain was racing as she challenged the speaker. "Us, common soldiers? Don't be stupid. Who told you that?"

Slightly unsure of himself, the water rat pointed out one of his comrades. "Er, he did."

Ullig did not hesitate. He slew the vermin who had been singled out with a sharp spear thrust. Turning on the rest, he shook his head pityingly. "Him, what did he know about it? Barrack room gossip! You all know me an' Wilce 'ere. King Mokkan asked us to pose as common soldiers for a while, just to sniff out any traitors or rebels who was still loyal to the impostor Lantur. We're still in command 'ere, so pick up yer weapons an' follow us, or it'll go hard on you!"

Gawjo and his party were about to enter the castle when the main barrack doors burst open and vermin began charging toward them. The old squirrel warrior turned to face the foe, backed by his ten big hogs, and rushed the enemy with a bloodcurdling shout.

"Gawj oooooooo!"

Their quills bristling with the madness of combat, the hedgehogs threw themselves headlong into the water rat ranks, flailing out with long heavy clubs, smashing any spears that came close, hacking and thrusting with short broad cutlasses.

"Rollin' circle, form a rollin' circle!" yelled Gawjo above the melee.

The water rats did not fight with the same ferocity as their opponents, but they outnumbered them more than ten to one. Two of the hedgehogs were down before Gawjo succeeded in joining his small force into the rolling circle. Shoulder to shoulder, cheek by jowl they fought, facing the vermin horde, turning like a wheel, plowing hither and thither into the foebeast ranks. A spearblade slashed down across Gawjo's paw as the hedgehog on his right side was overwhelmed by the crushing force of vermin. The old squirrel sighed as he slid in the blood flowing from his paw. They had underestimated the number of enemies. In a short time his column would go under.

"Regubaaaaaaaa! Strike for freedom!"

Dann and his slave army came charging to the rescue. They hit the vermin's flank like a tidal wave, changing the face of the battle completely.

Ullig and Wilce had fallen to the rear, careful not to be in the front line. Now, when the huge mob of reinforcements arrived, they saw defeat looming.

"That's torn it. Let's get out of here!" Wilce muttered to her companion.

A huge paw smacked down on Ullig's shoulder, and he was knocked flat by a burly hedgehog maid. She smiled grimly at him as she raised a loaded sling and spoke the last words Ullig was ever to hear in his life. "Well well, if'n it ain't Ullig the Slave Cap'n!"

A crowd of slaves cornered Wilce. She had nowhere to run.

"Look, mates, 'tis madam 'igh'n'mighty, Lantur's ole pet!"

"Aye, she 'ad me beaten just for lookin' at 'er!"

"Remember she 'ad our rations cut when 'twas too cold for us to work?"

"I remember that was a hard winter. I vowed if ever I got the chance I'd pay 'er back someday. Now the time's come!"

Wilce's final shriek as they fell upon her was so piercing that it actually caused a lull in the fighting.

Song and her two friends emerged into the courtyard just as Wilce screamed. It was a critical moment. The water rats ceased fighting and dropped their weapons, an uneasy murmur arising from them at the sight of their two leaders lying slain. Taking in the situation at a glance, the young squirrelmaid tried a desperate gamble. Raising the Leafwood high above her head, she strode boldly among the vermin, calling out, "Surrender and you will not be harmed. The Marlfox has gone and your leaders are dead. Surrender, I command you. Surrender! Sit down upon the ground all those who want to live!"

Whether it was the authority carried by her voice, or the fact that the slow-witted vermin were conditioned to obey orders, Song never knew. She looked about, trying to hide her astonishment. Every vermin soldier was seated firmly on the ground, watching her.

Burble's outburst almost ruined the moment. "All except you four, yiss yiss, yore fine big buckoes, I want y'to carry me nice ould chair down here an'. . . Yowch!"

Torrab had silenced the watervole by treading heavily on his footpaw. She glared at him ferociously. "Seal thy foolish mouth, rivermousey!"

Meanwhile, Mokkan hurried along the damp rock passages that ran beneath Castle Marl, holding a small lantern. The tunnels wound many different ways in mazelike patterns, but the Marlfox kept unerringly to one passage, sure of his destination. It was a rusty metal door, small and set low at the rear of an alcove. Mokkan gritted his teeth as he prized with his axblade, forcing the door to squeak in protest as it was wrenched open. He held the lantern ring in his teeth as he scraped through the doorway and began the long upward climb along a tunnel carved into the solid rock. At the top, he slid aside a flat slab and emerged into broad daylight. Tossing the lantern into the tunnel, he drew his cloak tight and took off along the boundary where the woodland grew down to meet the rocks. A sudden sound caused him to pause, then move silently back into the shade of a rowan and become almost one with it, using the Marlfox art of camouflage. Durrlow passed by him, glancing fearfully back at the high side wall of Castle Marl. Mokkan materialized behind the water rat and dealt him a sharp blow with his ax handle. Durrlow sprawled on the ground, one paw to his injured shoulder, the other held to his face as he cringed to avoid his master.

"I wasn't runnin' away, Majesty, I was . . . er . . . Don't kill me!"

Mokkan kicked him contemptuously. "Get up, you whining oaf. Follow me and do as I say!"

Shortly afterward, they lay among the loose rocks close to the plateau, Mokkan's axblade pressed between Durrlow's shoulder blades as he whispered orders. "Get down there fast and paddle that logboat over here. I'll be waiting for you. Hurry!"

Gawjo allowed Song to bandage his paw as they strode behind the vermin to the lakefront.

"Grandpa, will you keep still, please. This wound has to be bound, and I can't do it while you walk!"

The old squirrel warrior winked at her fondly. "My liddle Song, the sweet voice o' reason. Time for all that when we've finished this job."

At the water's edge the defeated rats were made to pile up their armor and weapons. Helmets, breastplates and shields in one heap, spears, slings, bows, arrows and swords in a separate array.

Dann took command of the disposal. "You creatures have no need of armor. On an island such as this there'll be no need to attack or defend from this day forward. So step up smart now an' let's see ye sling all this gear into the lake!"

Gawjo admired his neatly bandaged paw as Song skimmed a shield out over the water. It skipped four times, then sank with the noon sun glinting off it. The old squirrel warrior watched as it disappeared from view, butted from side to side by the hooked snouts of curious pike.

"Well, missie, there goes the garments of war. That was a good idea of yours. 'Tis nice to 'ave a clever granddaughter."

Song was as tall as her grandpa^! so it was not difficult to throw an affectionate paw about his shoulders. "Aye, and it isn't so bad having a good old grandpa!"

The weapons were next to go. Dann noticed that some of the vermin were actually enjoying it, laughing as they aimed their spears far out into the lake.

"Hoho, mate, mine went further'n yores!"

"Well, watch this fer a good throw!"

"Hah, last time I'll ever polish my spear fer guard duty. Remember 'ow Ullig used to 'ave us beaten for paradin' wid a dust speck on our spearblades?"

"Aye, curse 'is memory! This was 'is sword, I 'ope it rusts to nothin' in the waters!" The polished blade flashed in the sunlight, splashed into the lake and was lost to sight for ever.

Mokkan was concealed by high shelving rock at the side of the plateau as he climbed down to the waiting logboat with the laughter and cheers of his defeated army ringing in his ears. Durrlow crouched nervously at the water's edge, keeping a wary eye on the pike watching him hungrily from just below the waterline. He held the stern of the logboat steady for the Marlfox. Mokkan pushed past the water rat and jumped into the waiting craft, which wobbled perilously for a moment and then settled. Seating himself, Mokkan readied his paddle, nodding to Durrlow. "Get in!"

"I ain't goin' with you, sire."

Mokkan stared at his subordinate in disbelief. "What did you say?"

A look of stubborn resolution was in the water rat's eyes. "I said I ain't goin' with you, Marlfox!"

A quiver of rage shook Mokkan. "When this is over I'll be back," he snarled. "Mark my words, rat, you'll be screaming for death before I'm finished with you!"

Durrlow gave the logboat a hefty shove, shooting it out onto the lake, smiling happily at the irate Marlfox.

"Yore killin' days are over. Bad luck go with yer . . . Majesty!"

The last of the water rats' weapons had been cast into the lake when Mokkan hove into view, paddling furiously. Dippler was first to sight him, and hopped about wildly. "Look, the Marlfox! There he goes!"

Mokkan paddled like a wildbeast to get out of weapon range. Dann ground his teeth in frustration. "He's gettin' away. Gawjo, what'll we do?"

The old squirrel shook his head. "We can't do anything, Dann. The Marlfox is out o' range. Nobeast could throw a spear that far."

Suddenly everybeast leapt to one side. A whirring noise filled the air.

Whruuuuum! Whrrrrruuuuuuummmm!

"Take this with ye, vermin!"

A former slave, the burly young hedgehog maid, raced forward to the rocky plateau brink. She was swinging an iron slave chain in both paws. Faster and faster she whirled it, until it became a blur. Song pulled her grandpa down flat, narrowly avoiding the broken manacles at the chain's end as the links thrummed louder and louder.

Whrrrruuuummmm! Whrrrrruuuummmm!

Whrrrrruuuuuummmmm!

The hogmaid released the chain and it whizzed out over the lake, a whirlwind of metal. She was carried forward by the mighty throw, slipping off the plateau into the water. Like lightning, Torrab and two of her brothers yanked her back, a pike clinging to her footpaw. Mokkan was just turning his head to look back as the chain struck him, wrapping around his neck in the blink of an eye and whipping him straight into the water.

The Teeth of the Deeps, the ravening pike shoals that preyed upon any living thing that was cast into their domain, closed in. Long silver bodies, bristling dorsal fins and ferocious ripping teeth, threshing the water to foam. So ended the reign of High King Mokkan, last of the Marlfoxes!

A mighty cheer arose from the freed slaves. The water rats stared blankly for a moment, then joined in wholeheartedly. The young hedgehog maid sat inspecting her footpaw and Song sat down beside her, eyes shining with admiration. "That was a mighty throw, miss, you must possess great strength. What do they call you?"

"My name is Nettlebud."

Song shook her paw warmly. "I know your father well! He'll be overjoyed to see you!"

Burble scurried about, reassuring slaves and water rats as Megraw came swooping down to land on the plateau. "Don't fuss now, me friend won't harm ye, he's on our side, yiss yiss, an' we're thankful for that!"

Folding his massive wings, the osprey nodded at Song. "Weel, lassie, ah tek it the battle's o'er. Ye'll no be seein' maggypies round here nae mair!"

Nobeast doubted the fierce fish eagle's word.

Dippler eyed his logboat, floating empty out on the lake. "I could take a dozen or so in the logboat when we gets it back to land. Anybeast want to come with me? I'm goin' home."

Home!

The beautiful word meant everything to the creatures gathered by the lake's edge. Some of the freed slaves broke into sobs and wept at the thought of it. Gawjo was one of those who could not hold back a tear. Dann thought of Redwall and his father, and his own eyes filled.

"Look at 'em blubberin', Song," Dippler whispered. "Bet you can't start everybeast weepin' by singin' somethin' nice an' sad?"

Song tweaked the Guosim shrew's ear. "You heartless little horror! Bet I can. Just give me a moment to dry my eyes."

There on the rocks of the sunlit island the young squirrelmaid's voice rang out into the late-summer afternoon.

"Please gaze round our garden, remember me there,

And always be faithful and true,

Then look to the sunset and know that somewhere,

'Tis I who'll be thinking of you.

Home, home, I will come home,

Back to the ones I love best,

Home, home, no more to roam,

My weary heart will find rest.

So leave the door open and keep the fire bright,

As I recall it was always,

It may be evening or dawn's welcome light,

I'll wander back one of these days.

Home, home, I will come home,

Ere the long seasons have passed,

Home, home, no more to roam,

Peace we will find there at last."

In the hush that followed, Song noticed Dippler weeping.

Chapter 34

Rimrose sat at the Abbey pond's edge with Cregga, Sister Sloey, Ellayo, Deesum and Gurrbowl Cellarmole. Between them they were candying nuts and fruit, shelling hazels, almonds and chestnuts, slicing apples and pears, removing stones from plums, damsons and greengages, and selecting berries. These they layered in pottery jars, pouring in honey, then sealing the tops with bark circles and beeswax.

Sister Sloey watched a crew of moles carrying ladders out of the Abbey. "They've finished fixing all the windowpanes, Cregga marm."

The blind Badgermum nodded fondly. "At last Redwall is restored to its former glory, and our beautiful tapestry will soon be back where it belongs. I can stand in the center of Great Hall and feel it, I know I can!"

Gurrbowl placed another full jar to one side. "Hurr, et be'd a long job awroight. This day's ee larst day of season boi moi reckernin'."

Rimrose looked up from her work. "The last day of summer? Surely not. You said that Song and her friends would be back by then, Cregga."

The blind badger pulled the stalk from an apple and began slicing it expertly. "That's what my dream told me, Rimrose. Maybe summer has a few more days to run yet. Are you sure your calculations are right, Gurrbowl?"

The molewife nodded solemnly. "Thurr bain't no mustakes in moi calyoocayshuns, marm!"

Ellayo reassured Gurrbowl hastily. "Oh, we ain't questionin' yore reckonin', marm. Matter o' fact, summer does seem to have gone on quite long this season. Oh, by the way, has anybeast seen mister Florian an' the Dibbuns today? They was 'aunting us yesterday, pinchin' nuts an' dabbin' their paws in our 'oney, gettin' up to all sorts o' roguery they were. Wonder where they've gotten to?"

Deesum nodded in the direction of Mossflower Wood. "Berrypickin'. I heard mister Janglur and mister Rusvul say at breakfast that they'd go along with Florian to keep an eye on the Dibbuns. Huh! Rather them than us, I say. Imagine having charge of that lot in the woodlands. I'll wager they come back filthy, with their smocks all snagged and ripped!"

Rimrose poured honey into a jar, chuckling. "Mister Florian'll be glad to get Dwopple and his gang back here, I should imagine. Is that them now, coming in the main gate? Dearie me, just look at the state they're in!"

A band of Dibbuns charged across the lawn, stained red and purple with berry juice. Janglur and Rusvul followed, towing a cartload of baskets. Florian followed up, breathlessly trying to take a headcount of the Abbeybabes.

"Five, six, seven, be still, y'blighters, wot! Come back here, back I say, young sirs an' missies, line up correctly! Oh, confound the blighters, I've gone an' lost count again. Er, three, four, five . . . Stop dodgin' about there, Dwopple, I've gone an' counted you twice again. You should be five, or was it four? No, three, that's right. Now, three, four, five."

Sister Sloey took a correct count as the Dibbuns ran toward her. "Mister Florian sir, I've got a count, there's twenty-two in all. Is that how many you went out with?"

Dwopple swiped a strawberry and dipped it in honey. "Course not! Twenny-two's norra right, us wen' out wiv twenny-free dis mornin', mista Rusbul counted 'em twice!"

Rusvul and Janglur took a swift count, which tallied with Sister Sloey's. They dropped the cart handles.

"One's missin', Jang. We'll have t'go back to the woodlands!"

"No, you stay 'ere, Rus. I'll go!"

Rimrose hurried past both of them. "You two take a restI'll go. There's some cold mint tea setting in the pond shallows. Help yourselvesyou deserve it."

Florian Dugglewoof Wilffachop was first to the tea jug. "Ah, jolly good, cold tea after a flippin' day chasin' those ruffians round bush an' shrub, nothin' like it!"

Rimrose found the Dibbun, a baby dormouse named Guff, with enormous ears. He had toddled right on past the main gates and was close to the end of the wall, going south. Rimrose caught up with him, though he started to run and she had to chase him. She swept the tiny fellow up into her paws. "Where d'you think you're off to, my little button?"

Guff pointed a berrystained paw south down the path. "Gunna zing downed durr!"

The good squirrelwife translated Guff's baby talk. "Going to sing down there? Why'd you want to do that?"

The dormouse babe looked at her as if the answer was obvious. "Cozz dat's whair alia singen be's!"

Rimrose did not doubt the Dibbun's wordhis large sensitive ears could pick up sounds far better than hers. She stood there holding the little creature, listening for quite a while until her ears too picked up the noise. It came from many voices raised heartily as they came through the woods, roaring out an old ballad called "Seven Seasons Gone."

Rimrose felt her paws trembling as she lowered Guff back to the path. Excitement and many differing emotions crowded in on her, so that she could hardly put her words together correctly.

"Tell them Abbey, er, Abbey go, tell them Janglur, tell my daughter coming home. Quick Abbey!"

Guff nodded. He understood perfectly. Dibbuns spoke like that all the time, it was no problem. He trundled off toward Redwall while Rimrose dashed the other way, her skirts and aprons flapping as she yelled herself hoarse. "Song, it's Song, my daughter's coming home!"

Soon the dustcloud was seen rising above the trees, tramping paws keeping up with the old marching ballad. Strung across four pikestaffs borne by Song, Dann, Dippler and Gawjo, the great Redwall tapestry provided a fitting banner as they bellowed the words.

"Seven seasons gone, oh seven seasons gone,

But now I'm comin' home, me dear ole mate,

Over valley hill'n'field an' me footpaws didn't yield,

Get some vittles on the table, I can't wait!

Go t'the left right left! Go t'the left right left!

Seven seasons gone, oh seven seasons gone,

Have the little ones all growed up big'n'strong,

Is me father in the chair, do his snores ring through the air,

Now I'm goin' to wake him up with this ould song.

Go t'the left right left! Go t'the left right left!

Seven seasons gone, oh seven seasons gone,

I've been fightin' roarin' marchin' all the time,

But I'm comin' home t'you, to give you a hug or two,

The moment that I've supped a jug o' wine.

Go t'the left right left! Go t'the left right left!"

Bong boom! Bong boom! Bong boom!

The bells of Redwall Abbey tolled out like melodious rolling thunder. Chores, rest, recreation and duty were forgotten. Redwallers poured out onto the path outside the gates to see the brave sight. Aprons waved and cooks' caps were flung into the air. Cregga seized Friar Butty and sat him upon her mighty shoulders, yelling, "What do you see, friend, tell me what you can see?"

The old Recorder's voice squeaked with eagerness. "I see Song, Dann and the young Guosim, wotsisname, Dippler! There's an old squirrel marchin' alongside them, looks like a seasoned warrior t'me. I see a rank of hedgehogs, biggest I ever set eyes on, must be close to a score of 'em! Right behind them there's squirrels, mice, moleseven some otters! They're smiling, laughing, singing, pounding the dust up high as they come. Oh, Cregga marm, did you ever see such a sight?"

Cregga chuckled at the thought of a blind badger seeing any sight, but she understood her friend's jubilation. "No, I never saw such a sight, Friar. What else do you see?"

"I see Martin the Warrior! They've done it! They've brought the great tapestry home to Redwall!"

Rusvul grabbed his son's paws with a fierceness Dann could feel, dust settling on their faces as they stared intently at each other.

"Dann, that night, I'm sorry ..."

Dann seemed to have grown taller and broader. "Forget it, Reguba!"

Rusvul held his son at paw's length. "No, Dann, yore the Reguba now. Let me look at the son who's made me proud t'see a warrior standin' before me!"

Janglur and Rimrose hugged Song so hard she could scarcely breathe.

"Oh, Song, Song, thank the seasons you're back safe!"

"Well, missie, I'll bet you've sung some songs an' been through a few adventures since you left yore ole dad'n'mum. Haha, yore even prettier'n when y'went away!"

Song found herself looking over Janglur's shoulder at her grandpa and Ellayo, staring at one another like two creatures in a dream.

"Gawjo Swifteye, is it really you?"

"Aye, 'tis me, Ellayo me dear, older an' grayer, though mebbe none the wiser. Bet I'm a sight t'make sore eyes sorer, eh?"

"Oh no, Gawjo, you look 'andsome, all silver-furred an' well."

"Aye, but not half so pretty as you, Ellayo. You've not changed a single hair. Wait, is that our son Janglur?"

"You could wager on it, Gawjo. That apple never fell far from the tree! He's the breath out o' yore mouth. Go to him!"

"Thank ye, I will. Oh, Torrab, bring yore crew over here. Ellayo, I want you t'meet yore other sons an' daughters."

The old squirrelwife looked up at the big hedgehogs surrounding her and shook her head in amazement. "My sons an' daughters? Great seasons! You there, you look too big to be anybeast's son."

The giant hedgehog bowed, his face wreathed in smiles. "Hoho, marm, I ain't yore son, I'm just a visitor. My name's Sollertree an' this is my daughter Nettlebud an' our friend Goodwife Brimm. She's a fine cook, I can assure ye, marm."

Dippler found himself chatting to many Guosim friends. "Poor ole Bargle. That's another Log a Log we lost, mates. Who's Chieftain o' the tribe now? You, Mayon? Or Splikker maybe? I'm sure you've chosen another Log a Log since I've been gone?"

Mayon shook his head ruefully. "No, mate, Bargle was only actin' Log a Log. We can't make a new Chief until we catch up with that murderin' Fenno."

Dippler looked puzzled. "Fenno? Surely ye weren't thinkin' o' makin' that blackguard into a Log a Log?"

"Oh no. But Guosim law states clear that a new Chieftain can't be appointed until the old one is avenged," Splikker explained. "The Guerrilla Union rule is that when a Log a Log dies by the paw of a Guosim shrew"

Dippler interrupted him, as shrews invariably do when debating. "Lissen, matey, you've no need to go huntin' Fenno. I caught up with that murderin' scum an' slew him with my own sword, even though it was snapped in half. He's deader'n last season's grass an' good riddance to the villain!"

Everybeast turned as the shrews threw up their paws and pointed their snouts toward Dippler, setting up a shout.

"Logalogalogalogalogalooooooog!"

The young Guosim shrew stood totally embarrassed. "Ahoy, mates, steady on there. Wot's all the shoutin' about?"

A venerable old shrew named Marglo came forward, carrying something wound in barkcloth.

"Yore only a young 'un. Stands t'reason y'not expected to know all of the Guosim law, so I'll quote some to ye.

"The paw of the shrew that slays the beast,

Who made our Chieftain fall,

Will wield the sword of Guosim,

And be Log a Log over all!"

Marglo unwrapped the barkcloth from a short rapier. Dippler recognized his dead leader's blade straightaway. The oldster presented it to him ceremoniously. "From this day forth yore name is forgotten in our tribe. Take the Chieftain's blade. Hail, Log a Log of all Guosim!"

Everybeast on the path in front of Redwall set up an earsplitting cheer. Skipper waved them to silence. "Would y'like to say a word to yore tribe, Log a Log, me ole mate? Come on, don't be shy."

The new Log a Log thrust the rapier into his belt. "Ahem, now let me see . . . er . . . yes. Guosim! I'm only young, but I'll try to be as good a Log a Log as our old 'un was, fortune smile on 'is memory. But I been thinkin'. No more logboats fer us, we're goin' to build new vessels, light an' swift an' easy t'carry overland. Soon now I'll take ye to see me friend Chief Burble, boss of the River'ead watervoles. He's the bucko who'll show us 'ow t'make boats like the Swallow, neatest liddle craft ever to sail a stream! Oh, an' there's another thing. I won't stand t'see any young 'uns in our tribe pushed around or bullied or made fun of! Er ... that's all fer now, but I'll think of more to say to ye later."

Dann strode over to congratulate his friend. "Well said, Log a Log. I think you'll be a great Chieftain!"

Cregga's searching paw reached Dann. "What about you, sir Reguba? Have you got any plans?"

"Who, me? Er, no, not really, marm. Oh, I'm sorry, here's yore sword back. Sorry I borrowed it without permission."

Janglur's lazy eyes flickered as he murmured to Gawjo and Rusvul, "Just watch young Dann's face when Cregga tells 'im the news!"

The blind badger's paw closed tightly over Dann's, holding the sword there. Everybeast heard what she had to say.

"The sword of Martin is yours now for as long as you shall defend this Abbey with it. Dannflor Reguba, I name you Champion of Redwall!"

Before the cheering could start anew Skipper's paw shot aloft. "Belay the roarin', mates, there's more t'come yet. Now, is there a Songbreeze Swifteye among us t'day? Well, if there is you better get yoreself over 'ere smartish!"

Willing paws ushered Song forward until she was standing alongside Dann in front of Cregga Badgermum. Looking slightly bemused, the squirrelmaid whispered to her friend, "Hope they're not going to ask me to sing. My mouth's full of dust from that long trek."

Ellayo tweaked her granddaughter's ear. "Manners! Stop whisperin' an' lissen to wot the Badgermum has to say to ye, missie!"

A hush had fallen on the crowd. Curious onlookers at the back stood on tip-paw to see and hear what Cregga was about to say. She did not keep them waiting. "Song, you are to be the Abbess of Redwall!"

The crowd went wild with delight. It took Skipper, Sollertree, Torrab and several stout hedgehogs to restore order and a degree of quiet. The pretty squirrelmaid sat down upon the dusty path, completely dumbfounded, as Cregga continued, "Redwall Abbey needs someone like you, miss, young, bright and courageous. Dann is our Champion, and he will have his father, Janglur and Skipper to advise him. You, as Abbess, can always look to your grandma, your mother or to me for help. We will happily assist you in your decisions."

Song stood up slowly, her eyes searching Cregga's face. "But why me? There are many Redwallers who have lived here far longer than I have, Sister Sloey, Friar Butty, Tragglo Spearback. It is an honor far beyond my wildest dreams, marm. Tell me, why do you choose me as Abbess?"

The blind badger gave her reasons readily. "While you were gone I was visited in my dreams by Martin the Warrior. This is what he told me.

"Four Chieftains from the isle return,

But one with his own tribe will stay,

Three will return, back to this place,

On summertime's last day.

The riverbeast to rule his kind,

Where once his errors were maligned,

But this to you I say,

Look to the young two went from here,

A-questing for my tapestry,

The Reguba and Swifteye's maid,

Champion and Abbess they shall be!"

Florian Dugglewoof Wilffachop bent a leg, twirled his floppy hat and produced the most elaborate bow anybeast had yet witnessed. "Truth will out, my deah companions, ah yes. Who among us would doubt the words of Martin the Warrior? Splendid chap, absolutely first rate, wot wot! Ahem! Would you kindly bestow upon these rustic creatures a few pearls of newfound wisdom from your rosepetal lips, O Abbess Song-thingummy?"

A puzzled look crossed Song's face, and Friar Butty muttered, "He wants you to say a few words, missie sorry, Abbess."

Song was lifted onto the Noonvale Troupe's cart. She looked down at the expectant faces gazing up at her and took a deep breath. "Would you like a feast?"

A roaring cheer arose. "Yes, yes, a feast!"

Holding up her paws for silence, the young squirrelmaid smiled sweetly. "Well, you'll just have to wait. 'Tis autumn tomorrow and the harvesting must begin. As Abbess of Redwall I'll have no idle paws or gluttonous faces about me while there's work to be done around my Abbey. Dann Reguba, I give you as Champion permission to liven up any slackerstug of the ear, swift kick in the tail, that sort of thing. And you visitors, we'll see if we can't find you some useful chores, washing pots, scrubbing floors and whatnot. Oh yes, you'd better watch out when you hear the swish of this Abbess's robe!"

Song stared solemnly at the crestfallen faces staring up at her, and then she gave a hearty giggle. "Heeheehee! Stop looking at me like frogs at a funeral! What's the matter, can't you take a joke? Listenhere are my first four official words to you as Abbess of Redwall. On with the feast!"

Cheering and laughing, they pushed the cart across the lawn to the Abbey. Florian, bringing up the rear, chatted away to Rimrose. "Whew, marm, greatly relieved, that's what yours truly is. I thought we'd voted in a right young terror t'run the jolly old place, wot, a proper new-brush-sweeps-clean stickler! Good job your pretty daughter was only jokin', wot wot! Nothin' like a sense o' humor I always say, chap should always be able t'take a joke or a bit o' ribbin'... Yowch!"

A pebble from the fiendish mousebabe's sling clipped Florian's tailbob. The hare dashed off after Dwopple shouting threats. "Assassin, rapscallion, figdoodle, polly-woggin' savage infant! Yes, you, sah! I'll kick y'little tail ten times round Great Hall if I catch you! I'll chuck you in with the flippin' apples an' trample you to cider! I'll . . . Er, now now, put that sling down, there's a good little chap . . . Heeeeelp!"

Florian flew in behind the merry cavalcade and slammed the Abbey door shut.

Epilogue

Extract from the records of Redwall Abbey, written by an Apprentice Recorder under the direction of Friar Butty.

What a feast we had that day, and the three days following it. My word! I thought mister Florian could clean a platter, until I watched those big rough hedgehogs tucking in. "Twas a good thing there was more than enough, for Redwall lived up to its name for providing lavish hospitality to everybeast within its gates. Abbess Song's First Feast was a rousing success! I declare, there never was such an array of food, ten kinds of cheeses, twelve different breads, all crisp and fresh. Cakes, puddings, flans, trifles, tarts and crumbles in abundance. Oh, those scones! Goody Brimm baked batches of them, assisted by the giant Sollertree and his long-lost daughter Nettlebud. Sollertree is the jolliest of creatures now that he has his daughter back. He brought with him a sack of almonds and a basket of dried grapes as a gift to our Abbey. There was a Last Summer Salad at the feast that had to be balanced between two tables because of its size. October Ale and strawberry fizz were very popular, but then, so was every other drink. Have you ever tasted skilly'n'duff? The Guosim made pans of the stuff, it is very delicious and difficult to stop eating. However, the serious trencherbeasts, Skipper, Florian, Tragglo and some others, went on to sample the moles' famous deeper'n ever turnip'n'tater'n'beetroot pie and the otters' formidably spicy hotroot soup. Excellent entertainment was provided by the Noonvale Troupe, though our poor Abbess was called upon to render ballad after ballad. I thought they would never let her sit down to eat. Martin the Warrior's tapestry was hung in its former position amid all the jollity. That feast! Red-wallers will tell of it in song and story for generations to come.

It was a strange and exciting adventure our travelers had to relate. We listened eagerly to the tale of how they quested to bring back our stolen tapestry. Dibbuns sat wide-eyed as Gawjo told them of the lost island at the center of the great lake and of how it was conquered. He said that now it was a place inhabited by water rats who live there peacefully in the castle, learning to farm the land for their food. All the slaves were freed, some to return to their homes, others being part of the force that came back to Redwall. Now that the curse of the Marlfoxes was lifted from the island it was a pleasant place to be, ruled over by a great fish eagle, whom all spoke well of. Abbess Song said that the bird's name is Mighty Megraw. She wanted him to come to the Abbey with her, but he refused. We laughed at the curious speech of Megraw, and our Abbess herself has written down his parting words to her. This is what he said. "Leave mah island? Ach, awa' wi' ye, lassie. Ah'm King o' this place, d'ken. Atop yon castle is mah perch, a bird would be oot o' his mind tae leave a fine braw lake, full o' bonny pikefishes, so easy tae catch an' guid tae eat. Ah'll bid ye fareweel, go an' awa' back tae yer Abbey an' eat all manner o' dreadful fruit an' veggibles. Mebbe ahll gang aroond tae see ye wan day!" I had great difficulty understanding this, but Dwopple and the Dibbuns didn't. Often we have to bring them down from the walltops, where they stand watching for a visit from the one Dibbuns call "Mig'aw h'eagle."

It is mid-autumn now, and the trees shed tears of brown and gold as their leaves fall softly to the quiet earth. We gathered in the last of our orchard's russet apples yesterday. Mister Florian and his troupe decided to travel on, it was a sad parting, but after all they are strolling players. Well, scarce half a day's journey down the path their cart fell entirely to pieces. Since they had eaten all the provisions they had been supplied with, Florian traipsed boldly back at the head of his troupe and inquired if dinner was ready (wot wot)! So the Wandering Noonvale Companions are installed in Redwall once more. Abbess Song was informed by Florian that it might take a season or three to build a new cart. We are all very fond of the old rascal, he may stay with us as long as he pleases.

Log a Log has taken his shrews off to see the Riverhead watervole tribe, where they will learn how to construct a new fleet of boats, lighter and faster than their old logboats. I hear Burble, the Riverhead Chief, is a very odd and humorous young watervole. His full title, I am told, is Chief Burble Bigthrone, Holder of Leafwood and Commander of the boat Swallow. Dann could hardly tell me for laughin', of how Burble plundered his throne from the Marlfoxes' castle and insisted on bringing it back home on Gawjo's raft, polishing it the entire trip. We look forward to a visit from both Riverheads and Guosim at our Midwinter Festival.

What more is there to tell? Redwall's harvest is in, days grow short and birds are flocking together in the trees for their long flight to the sunny places. Skipper and his otter crew are hauling in dead treetrunks from Mossflower Wood, fuel for the Abbey fires. 1 dearly love a good fire, particularly on some cold winter night when snow is driven by howling winds outside. We sit around a cheery blaze in Cavern Hole, roasting chestnuts, singing songs and telling tales, happy together in the warmth and safety of our beloved home, Redwall Abbey. They say our bells can be heard from afar at any time of day or night.

If you are traveling 'cross the flatlands, through the woods, or along the path, you may hear our twin bells. They will be calling you to come and join us, and we would be pleased to see you. Do call in someday, yon will be made welcome by all who dwell within our walls.

Rimrose Swifteye, Apprentice Recorder to Friar Butty at Redwall Abbey in Mossflower country (and never too old to learn new skills).

Curtain!

This narrative has been edited by Florian Dugglewoof Wilffachop, Actor Manager Impresario. Who insists that the entire tale is a drama, which he will be later performing as a play. Hence the three parts being named as acts, rather than books. We crave your indulgence for this deviation.

************************************

Brian Jacques began writing his beloved Redwall tales to entertain the children at Liverpool's School for the Blind. Unbeknownst to him, a former teacher r showed one of his manuscripts to a publisher, who saw the genius in it.

Thus began the Redwall series, of which Marlfox is the eleventh volume.

A consummate storyteller, Mr. Jacqumi lives in Liverpool, where he continues to spin his magnificent tales and is now at work creating another chapter in the Redwall saga.

In addition to this series, he has written Seven Strange and Ghostly Tales, a collection of ghost stories, and The Great Redwall Feast, an illustrated storybook with pictures bv Christopher Denise.

Jacket art 1999 by Troy Howell

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