Mattimeo

Chapter 17

Though the captives were hurried along, the going became easier. Thick forest gave way to grassy clearings,

and rocks were much in evidence now, with here and there a large stony hill rearing out of the woodlands.

As they marched, Mattimeo and his friends were able to gather fair quantities of cloudberry and

pennycress, supplemented with hard pears and crab apples. Slagar was becoming more cautious, forever

watching ahead and detailing guards to cover their tracks from the rear.

Vitch caught up with Threeclaws. “What’s the fox watchin’ out for, more slaves?”

The weasel curled his lip at the undersized rat. “What he’s lookin’ out for is his own business and none

of yours, noseywhiskers. You just keep your eyes on those prisoners.”

“Ha, you’re only sayin’ that ’cos you don’t know yourself,” Vitch sneered. “Bet you don’t even know

where we’re going.”

Slagar had heard Vitch. He stood still until the unsuspecting rat caught up with him. Then the sly one

stepped on the rat’s tail, stopping him short.

“So, you want to know where we’re going, eh, Vitch?”

The rat gulped and shrugged nervously. “Er, no, not really.”

The silken mask sucked into a hideous grin. “Then that’s good, Vitch, good. Because it’s no use asking

this thick shower of tramps and scavengers. They don’t know. Only one creature knows where we’re going:

me. When we get these slaves to their destination, you’ll either end up very rich … or very dead, if you

keep asking about things that don’t concern you.”

Slagar strode off, leaving Vitch dumbfounded but thankful that he had only received a verbal

reprimand for his curiosity.

“Did you hear that?” Mattimeo whispered to Jube. “Have you any idea where we’re going?”

The young hedgehog nodded. “South. That’s the way that slave caravans always go. My dad an’ mum

said it’s evil in the south. We never go there.”

Shortly before noon they were in sight of two hills. Slagar called Threeclaws and Halftail.

“We’ll camp in the canyon between those two hills. Take the slaves up to the south end of it, there’s flat

rocks with a river running through the middle. Stake them out there awhile, feed ’em and let ’em sleep. I’ll

stay up this end of the gorge with Bageye, Skinpaw and Scringe, on top of that hill to the left. I want to see

if we’re being followed. If I signal you, then move this lot south, quick as you can. We’ll catch up with you

later.”

Two stoats called Badrag and Browntooth walked alongside Mattimeo and the others. Sam and Auma

began secretly baiting them. The squirrel and the young badger yawned loudly and stretched.

“Whoooyaawhhh! I’m almost asleep on my paws, Auma. What about you?”

“Whuuuyyaaaah! Never mind us, Sam, what about these poor guards? They’ve had their tails run off,

marching and looking after us.”

“You’re right there, badger.” Badrag rubbed his eyes and yawned. “Havin’ to break camp and march in

the middle of the night, keepin’ you lot goin’, takin’ orders off Slagar….”

Sam nodded sympathetically. “Aye, not much of a life, is it.”

Browntooth stubbed his paw on a rock. “Ouch! when are we goin’ to stop and get a decent sleep an’

something to eat, that’s what I’d like to know.”

“It’s a shame,” Auma clucked understandingly, “that’s what it is. Look, why don’t I mind that big

clumsy spear? You sit down on that rock and rest for a while. Sam, you’ll mind Browntooth’s old rusty

sword for him, won’t you?”

Sam smiled at Browntooth. “Of course. Anything for a friend. You slip me your sword and go and get

yourself a little rest with Badrag.”

The two stoats were nearly taken in until Slagar’s voice called harshly from the head of the column,

“Badrag, Browntooth! Stop yammering and get those prisoners moving. Come on, liven yourselves up!”

Badrag spat on his paws and rubbed them into his eyes as he quickened the pace. “Think you’re clever,

don’t you, tryin’ to get us in trouble with the Chief.” Browntooth snarled at Sam and Auma. “Move along

there. Come on, get those paws trottin’, you slackers!”

Matthias was first at the scene of the battle, with Jess close behind him. Twelve hedgehogs were attacking a

badger, nipping and bulling from all sides with claw, tooth and spike. The badger was a huge male, even

bigger than Constance. He carried a large double-headed battleaxe, but he was only using the long wooden-

poled handle to ward off his attackers. Time and again they would charge, hurling themselves at the big

badger with savage grunting noises, but still he did not use the battleaxe blade. Squealing hedgehogs were

tossed high into the bushes by long powerful sweeps of the handle, and now and again he would lash out

with his paw, causing them to ball up and roll away. Regardless of the size and obvious danger of the

badger, the hedgehogs continued to fight him aggressively. They were strong fighters. One of them, an old

male, would call out at intervals, “You great stripy varmint, give us back our Jubilation or we’ll spike you

dead, so we will!”

The badger’s patience was wearing thin, but his great strength was unabated as he bared his teeth and

yelled back, “What in thunder’s a jubilation? You’re all mad. Get back or I’ll use this axe properly, on my

oath as a warrior I will!”

Matthias, Jess, Basil and Cheek stood on the outskirts of the fight, completely ignored. The warrior

mouse turned to Basil. “There seems to be something wrong here. Woodlanders don’t usually fight each

other this way. Maybe they know something about which way the fox has gone. I’m going in to break it

up.”

“Keep out of the way, young feller,” Basil told Cheek. “Right, Matthias me old scout, lead on.”

Matthias, Jess and Basil leapt into the fray, placing themselves around the badger. The warrior mouse

brandished his sword and roared out, “A Redwall, a Redwall!”

Basil’s voice joined Matthias’s. “Blood’n’vinegar, mud’n’fur, up and at ’em!”

Jess’s voice joined them both. “Treetops and timber. Redwallllll !”

Immediately the fighting ceased. The big badger and the twelve hedgehogs looked in surprise at the

newcomers. Basil Stag Hare took charge.

“Steady in the ranks thah, chaps! Right, listen out now, all fightin’ an’ skirmishin’ to cease forthwith.

Otherwise this blighter here’ll chop you into bits with the great sword of Redwall. Now, what’s all the jolly

old tiz-woz about, eh?”

The badger added his voice to those of the hedgehogs as they all began talking at once.

“He stole our Jubilation!”

“Rubbish, I’ve never even seen a jubilation!”

“Yew great stripy ol’ liar!”

“Liar yourself!”

“Don’t you call her a liar or I’ll break that there ’atchet over your skull, so I will!”

“I’d like to see you try it, spikebottom!”

“Ooh! D’you ’ear wot ’e called me, Dad?”

“Never mind wot ’e called yew, sticks’n’stones won’t break our bones. You just give us back our

Jub’lation, badger.”

Matthias struck the steel axehead with his sword blade. The sound rang out like a bell, restoring silence

again. The warrior mouse pointed at the badger with his sword.

“One at a time, you first.”

The badger leaned upon his axe haft, his powerful chest heaving. “My name is Orlando the Axe. I come

from the western plain. My daughter Auma was taken by Slagar and his slavers, and I was searching for

her when all these mad hedgehogs attacked me without any reason.”

The old male hedgehog began dancing excitedly. “Harr, so that’s it! Slagar an’ his varmints, I might’ve

knowed it. He’s the one as stole our little Jubilation.”

Matthias pointed the sword at the hedgehog. “Who are you and what is jubilation?”

The hedgehog waddled forward. He was the most untidy creature, with leaves, flowers, roots and

creepers stuck to all his spines.

“I’ll tell y’who I am, young feller,” he said. “I’m Jabez Stump. This here’s my wife Rosyqueen and these

are my ten daughters. I’ve got a son too, splendid liddle ’og, name of Jubilation, at least I did have a son till

that thievin’ fox passed this ways.”

Matthias bowed. “I too had a fine young son stolen from me by Slagar. I am Matthias the Warrior of

Redwall Abbey. Allow me to introduce my friends. This is Jess Squirrel, champion climber and tree jumper.

Her son Sam was also taken by Slagar, along with three others from our Abbey, two churchmice and a little

volemaid. That young otter is Cheek, both by name and by nature. And last but not least, Basil Stag Hare,

retired regimental scout and foot fighter.”

Basil made an elegant leg. “At y’service, sah! Well, well, it seems that we all have a reason to catch up

with that foul blot Slagar. I suggest we join forces. Actually, we lost the slavers’ trail, and we’d be terribly

glad of any help you could give us, wot?”

The badger hefted his huge axe. “A sound proposition. I need help more than any beast. I’m hopelessly

lost in these woods, and it was only by chance that I came this far. Bear in mind, though, I’ll be extremely

useful when we catch up with these slavers.” Orlando accentuated this last remark by testing his axe blades

on the side of his paw.

Jabez Stump and his brood drew to one side and had a whispered debate, then the hedgehog returned

and offered his paw.

“So be it, we search together.”

Matthias, Basil, Jess and Orlando linked paws with Jabez. “Together!”

Rosyqueen pointed the direction. “South, that’s the way the slavers always travel, though no one knows

what lies beyond the great Southern Plateau. But afore you travel you must eat with us.”

The Stump family lived in a great hollow beech tree that had fallen on its side. They were not very strong

on table manners. Immediately the food was set out, the ten husky daughters threw themselves upon it and

had to be beaten off by their father to make room for the guests. Matthias and his friends thanked them

politely and carried their portions of woodland stew, acornbread and cider outside because of the lack of

room in the hollow log. They sat on a grassy sward, eating and watching the incredible scene inside.

Rosyqueen hit out indiscriminately with a heavy wooden ladle as the ten daughters fought, bit, licked the

stewpot, stole bread from each other and generally created uproar in the limited space.

“Bless their ’earts,” Jabez Stump laughed. “They’s all fine big maids wi’ ’ealthy appetites. You should

see my liddle Jube, though. He can outspike the lot o’them when ’e’s at ’ome, hoho! It’s a lifetime’s work

keepin’ this lot fed, it is that.”

By now the hedgehogs had finished the food and were starting to eat the soft wooden casing that

formed the walls inside the log. Rosyqueen belabored them furiously until they spilled out onto the sward,

tumbling and fighting for leftovers, so much so that Matthias and his friends were hard put to finish their

meal in peace.

Jabez Stump tossed his soup bowl to one of them to lick as he stood up dusting his paws. “Right then,

we about ready to start trackin’?”

They set off south, with Rosyqueen and the ten daughters waving a cheerful goodbye.

“You find them liddle uns now, d’you ’ear?”

“Aye, and bring us back some weasels to bully.”

“If we ain’t ’ere when you returns it’ll be ’cos we’ve etten the log an’ gone a-searchin’ for another.

Goodbye!”

As Jabez was making his goodbyes, Basil Stag Hare whispered to Matthias and Orlando, “Some

blighter’s watching us from those bushes to the right.”

Orlando moved casually in the direction of the bushes. “Leave this one to me.”

But before the badger could move any further, Jess Squirrel was past him like a reddish streak. She flew

into the bushes with a mighty leap and engaged the watcher. The foliage shook and trembled as the bushes

thrashed noisily with the vigor of Jess’s attack, and there were panicked cries from the shrubbery.

“Lemmego, lemmego! Ow ouch! Eek gurgh! You’re hurting me!”

Jess emerged from the bushes, dragging Scurl the great frilled newt by his comb. “Oho, don’t you

worry, sloppyskin, I’ll hurt you! I’ll tear you in pieces and feed you to the Stump family if you don’t tell me

where you got my champion climber’s tailring from.”

She threw Scurl roughly to the ground. Completely surrounded, the cheating reptile stared wide-eyed

at Orlando, Jabez, Basil and Matthias. Using all his agility, he tried to make a swift escape, but the sword

that buried itself in the ground at his nosetip and the immense war axe that thudded to earth a fraction

from his tail warned him in no uncertain way that these creatures were warriors, not young woodland

captives, and they meant business.

Scurl swallowed hard. “I can ’splain. I’ll tell you everything!”

Matthias flicked the swordpoint against the frightened newt’s pulsating throat.

“That’s my son’s habit cord you’re wearing. I think you had better tell us everything. Now!”