Mattimeo

Chapter 37

Half-eaten fruit, some of it rotten, lay scattered between the upturned beds, torn sheets and stained walls of

the once neat dormitory, and a window had been broken so that the magpies and rooks could fly in and out

at will. The fighters of General Ironbeak had smashed the small wooden lockers and tables. They lay about

in the wreckage, some sleeping, others eating. Ironbeak had taken the infirmary and sickbay as his

headquarters. Mangiz explored the cupboards, poking his beak into Sister May’s collection of herbal

remedies.

“Yagga! Why do these stupid earthcrawlers keep dead leaves and grasses? They are not good to eat, so

what use are they?”

Ironbeak perched on Sister May’s wooden stool. “Who knows, Mangiz. That is nothing to do with our

problem. I am certain that the earthcrawlers have plenty to eat and drink down in that place called Cavern

Hole. The time is coming when we will have to think about an attack. We will go in there and drag them

out.”

Mangiz stood on the medicine cupboard, shaking his head. “That would be like using a boulder to

crush an ant, my General. I am sure there must be a better answer to your problem.”

“Then tell me, Mangiz. You are my seer. Are the pictures becoming clear in your mind again?”

“My vision is still clouded by the mouse that wears armour, but I am not relying on dreams and

visions; soon now I will think of an idea.”

“Kacha! Then think quickly, Mangiz, or the summer will be gone. When the brown leaves blow and the

wind becomes cold, I want those earthcrawlers to be only a memory as I rule in my great redstone house.”

Foremole had wasted no time. He and his crew had tunnelled through from Cavern Hole to the grounds.

They emerged by the west wall, poking their snouts out into the sunlight.

“Hurr hurr, you’m may’s well try an’ keep watter in a sieve as stop’n uz moles agoen whurr we do

please.”

“Aye, Jarge, whyrr to naow?”

“Oi’m a-thinken us’d best tunnel to pool.”

“Burr, then to Miz Cornfl’er’s liddle ’ouse by yon gate.”

“Doant ee forget a noice deep’n to orchard.”

Soon a veritable network of tunnels was under construction.

Rollo was not too pleased. They had taken the big table for the barricade and now he had nowhere to

camp. He soon cheered up when Ambrose Spike allowed him to help with the hammering and nailing of

the barrier. Chairs and benches, cupboards and shelves, together with the large banqueting table, were

placed across the bottom step of Cavern Hole. Ambrose and Winifred had given it a lot of thought. There

were spaces to fire arrows through, slits for javelins and spears, plus a form that the defenders could stand

upon to sling stones over the top at the enemy.

The Abbot and Sister May had done a thorough stocktaking of all food in the larders and drink in the

wine cellar, and there was little danger of provision shortage.

Constance checked the weaponry. Besides the standard arms, there were lots of kitchen utensils that

could double as fearsome implements of war. The badger brandished a copper-bottomed saucepan

thoughtfully.

“What d’you think, Cornflower?”

“It would make quite a fetching war helmet for you, Constance.”

Brother Sedge snatched it from the badger. “D’you want Mossflower vegetable stew with dumplings or

not?” he asked crossly.

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t know you were planning to use that saucepan.”

“Here, take this rolling pin. It’ll make a useful club. And put that frying pan down, please. I’m cooking

redcurrant pancakes with apple slices,” Brother Sedge told the badger indignantly.

“Oh, er, right! Is this pan all right to borrow?”

“Perfectly. Then I won’t have to make any hazelnut cream sauce to pour over my pancakes.”

Constance put the pan down quickly. “No hazelnut cream sauce, unthinkable! Brother Sedge, I’ve just

had a splendid idea. Why don’t you invite the birds down to lunch and feed them to death. Hahaha!”

Brother Sedge picked up a ladle aggressively. “Are you insulting my cooking, badger?”

Cornflower shook with mirth. “Oh dear, no. I’m sure she meant the remark as a compliment. Come on,

Constance, let’s see if any of the gardening tools can be of use to us.”

They retreated chuckling as Brother Sedge sliced apples savagely.

Foremole reappeared through the tunnel entrance into Cavern Hole. He waved to the Abbot.

“Lookit yurr, ’dalfus zurr, fresh watter aplenty!”

Moles climbed out, bearing buckets of water on poles between them — proof that the tunnel to the

pond had been completed.

The Abbot was well pleased. “Thank you, Foremole. Now we have all we need. Look, Mrs.

Churchmouse, fresh water, as much as we need.”

Mrs. Churchmouse rolled her sleeves up busily. “Wonderful! I think it’s high time for somebeast to get

a bath.”

Rollo gave a yelp of dismay and tried to crawl into the tunnel, but he met Gaffer, who was climbing

out.

“Urr you’m be, marm. You scrub that liddle feller noice an’ clean naow.”

Baby Rollo was carried off protesting loudly, “I wanna be a mole. Moles don’t get baffed!”

Mangiz had been thinking very hard. “My General, last time I was in the galleries of Great Hall I saw the

mouse in armour. He was not a real live mouse, but a picture on a great cloth that is fastened to the wall.

The earthcrawlers must value him highly.”

“What if they do, Mangiz? A piece of cloth is a piece of cloth. How can this help us?”

“Maybe they value him highly enough to defend him.”

“What is going on in your head, my Mangiz? Tell me.”

“I am thinking that we will not have to attack the earthcrawlers. If they saw us trying to take the big

cloth with the picture of the mouse on, they would come out and attack us to save it.”

Ironbeak clacked his beak together sharply. “Chakka! We would catch them out in the open. This is a

good plan. Mangiz, you are my strong right wing.”

The sun slanted through the windows of Redwall Abbey. It shone on the large tapestry in the peace and

quiet of Great Hall.