The Pearls Of Lutra

Lussak and Fraddle, two of Lask Frildur's Monitors, had been unsuccessfully trying to catch birds with a net. Finding the stream, the two lizards had followed its course, searching for a likely spot where fish might be found.

Fraddle suddenly held up a heavily scaled claw, saying, "Hearken, lizzen, I hear voizez!"

Crouching low, they wriggled silently forward. From behind a screen of hemlock and dropwort they watched two creatures clad in green habits, an old mouse and a young bankvole, prancing in the stream shallows, laughing and splashing.

Lussak's dark tongue snaked out hungrily. "Food at lazzzzt!" he breathed.

Fraddle's claw shot out as Lussak started to creep forward. Seizing him tight by the loose jawflesh, he dragged until it threatened to tear. "No, theze will be prizonerz for General Lazk!"

Viola and the Abbot sat on the streambank, rubbing their footpaws in the sunwarmed grass.

"Oh, Father Abbot, what fun! You were right when you said tha Eeeeeek!"

The tough twine meshes of a ship's net trapped them both. They were pulled backward and hauled up the bank. Terrified, wordless and stiff with fright, the old mouse and the young bankvole found themselves staring into the foul-breathed faces of two reptiles they could not have imagined in their worst nightmares.

"Be ztill or be zlain!"

Chapter 15

Apart from a few helpers, the kitchens were quiet after lunch had been served. Martin and Rollo sat on grainsacks with Tansy, questioning her closely.

"Are you sure you can remember no more of your dream, Tansy?"

"I wish I could, Rollo, really I do! I can remember seeing Martin the Warrior of ancient times, and he said many things to me, though it all seemed so fuzzy this morning. It was something about searching and never giving up hope. Then more words about friendship and loyalty ... Oh! and he mentioned about one day giving the Tears back to their true owner. I'm sorry, but today my mind doesn't seem to be working properly. Oh dear, it makes me so irritable when I can't remember exactly what he said!"

Martin said understandingly, "No matter, Tansy. All will become crystal clear when our Warrior's spirit wishes it so. The main thing at this moment is to solve the riddle. Would you read it again, please, miss?"

Tansy unfolded the flimsy parchment scrap.

"I think the relevant part is in these last four lineslisten:

“ Go, find my gift, good Friar,

This tear is given free,

Not hid away in secret,

But there for all to see!"

Rollo donned his glasses and stared at the rhyme, saying, "Fermald meant this for Friar Higgle, really. Don't you think we should go to him and ask for his help?"

At that instant Foremole and Higgle emerged from the wine-cellar ramp, rolling a small cask of elderberry wine between them.

Foremole unbent and grunted, "Yurr, zurr 'iggle, us'll take et o'er to ee corner thurr."

Rollo called over from his perch on the grainsacks. "Friar Higgle, can you spare us a moment, please?"

Leaving Foremole to trundle the cask, Higgle came over, his homely face wreathed in a big smile. "Whew! We none o' us're as spry as we used t'be, friends; good job I got Foremole to 'elp me. Now, wot can I do to 'elp you?"

Skipper of Otters was a big, tough-looking beast. He turned on the walltop as one of his otter crew called across from the south ramparts. "Nary a sign of gulls again today, Skip!"

Skipper's deep gruff voice rang back in reply. "Keep yore eyes peeled though, Glenner, we'll give it another day or two yet; may'aps they're watchin' us from afar."

As he took his eyes away from the cloudless blue noon sky, Skipper saw a ferret emerge from the woodland fringe. Everything about her, from the brass earhoops to the tattooed paws and ragged silks she wore, branded her as sea vermin.

She waved in a cheery fashion at the big otter. “Ahoy there, ruddertail, is this the place they call Redwall?"

Skipper became immediately alert. “What if it is, snipenose? What's yore business 'ere?"

"Oh, just some information. No need t'get offended."

Skipper chuckled, amazed at the ferret's impudence. "Bless yer 'ide, matey, I'm not offended at a corsair callin' me ruddertail, though if'n I was down there now I'd give yer such a clout you'd land up in the middle o' next season!"

Romsca laughed back, giving as good as she got. "Yer a big saucy beast, talkin' all brave from up there. Why not come down 'ere an' try yer luck, riverdog?"

Skipper wagged a hefty gnarled paw at her. “My ole mother never raised no fools, corsair. Where's yer sword an' daggers, lyin' in the undergrowth with the rest o' yer slimy crew? Now say yore say an' begone, quick an' sharpish!"

The hogwife Teasel arrived up on the walltop carrying a basket. "Good afternoon, mister Skipper. I brought up a snack for you an' yore crew .. . Who's that creature down there?"

Skipper peered into the basket, his face lighting up in appreciation. "Nothin' to worry yore good 'ead about, marm; thankee for the vittles, though. Beg yore pardon whilst I deal with this villain." Immediately the Skipper of Otters became serious, whirling his sling until the thongs hummed. "Say yore piece, scum, or stand by to eat stone!"

Romsca spoke out smartly. "Where's Graylunk? I wants ter speak with 'im!"

"Yore wastin' yore time, there ain't no Graylunk 'ere!"

"Arr, cummon, you c'n do better'n that. Either bring the weasel out or return wot 'e stole!"

Skipper and his crew were infrequent Abbeydwellers, living mainly in Mossflower's woodlands and waters, and he had no idea what Romsca was talking about. And he was not a beast to stand arguing.

Whokk!

The slingstone bounced off a sycamore trunk a hairsbreadth from the corsair's skull.

"Next one goes down yore throat, verminnow clear off!"

Romsca leapt behind the sycamore trunk, shouting, "We know you've got Graylunk in there, an' the pearls. It'd be a lot easier on yer if you brought 'em out!"

Hogwife Teasel popped her head over the battlements, and cried, "Graylunk left 'ere seasons agothey found 'is remains not two nights back in the woodland rocks, the red ones east of 'ere. Graylunk's dead long ago, so be off with you!"

"So you say. I'll be back again at this time tomorrow!" Romsca yelled.

When it was obvious Romsca had gone, Skipper chided Teasel gently. "You should've told that'n nothin', marm. I'd advise you to find Martin an' tell 'im all that 'appened." Back in the kitchens, Friar Higgle had been shown the rhyme and told all about the situation. He shrugged.

“ Alas, I know nothin' about any gift; old Fermald never gave me nothin' but smiles. I wish I could help you, but I can't. A tear for all to see? That's a real poser, friends. I must start bakin' for supper now. You'll 'ave to excuse me, but good luck to you."

Feeling defeated, the three wandered about the kitchens on a futile search. Then Clecky ambled in, followed by Gerul. The mountain hare looked about hungrily.

"I say, chaps, is it nearly teatime? I'm famished. Sorry, are you lookin' for eatables too, wot?''

Rollo walked around Clecky, investigating the shelves behind him. "No, we're not, you great famine-fetcher. We're looking for a tear that is in plain view."

Gerul blinked several times, shifting from one talon to another. "Ah well now, if me good friend Clecky here doesn't get sumthin' to devour soon, no doubt you'll see plenty of tears in plain view, sirs, an' you too, miss. Ould Clecky here can blubber up a storm if the food isn't forthcomin', indeed he can!"

Tansy fidgeted with her apron restlessly. "Oh bother! How can you hide something and yet leave it in plain view? It doesn't make sense!"

Friar Higgle looked up from the rhubarb crumble he was making. "Aye, 'specially when you don't know what it is you look for!"

Clecky knew what he was looking for. The hungry hare had spotted a box of candied chestnuts on a far corner shelf. He sidled slowly over and tried to snatch some of the delicious sweets. Unfortunately there was a huge ornate wooden candlestick standing between Clecky and the shelf. The immense candle it held was lit only once every four seasons, at the first summer feast. Wax had melted upon wax over the seasons, crusting the top of the carved holder. Clecky stood with his back against the candle, trying to appear as though he were doing nothing. However, behind him his paws were working furiously. With one paw around each side of the candlestick, he grappled and grabbed furiously, trying to reach the box standing on the shelf behind the giant candle. As Tansy and her friends wandered about searching, Friar Higgle became alerted by the scrabbling noises. He looked directly at Clecky.

“ What are you doin' over there, sir?''

The hare stood with both paws searching madly behind his back for the box as he tried to stand still, smiling casually. "What, er, who, me? Er, ahaha, old feller, nothin' at all, nice an' snug in this corner, doncha think, wot wot?''

The Friar advanced on him, shaking a ladle threateningly. "Yore up to some prank, I know it! Now get out o' my kitchen; tea'll be ready when I've made it!" He grabbed hold of Clecky's tunic and pulled sharply. "Come on, out I said!"

But the hare had hold of the box in both paws and was unwilling to let go. He tottered forward and overbalanced, shouting indignantly, "I say, leggo, y'great foozlin' Friar! Yaaaahah!"

Higgle dodged to one side as the hare fell, bringing the candlestick crashing down to the floor with him. Candied chestnuts from the fractured box rolled around the kitchen floorstones. Martin and Higgle helped Clecky up. The Friar was furious.

"Now lookit what you done, an' all through sheer greed for a few chestnuts. The great summer candle is broke, snapped clean in two pieces! You'll pay for this, sir ten-bellies!"

Rollo, Tansy and Gerul were gathering up the spilled nuts. Tansy could not help grinning as she nudged the old Recorder. "Rollo, shame on you, don't eat them, put them back in the box. Really, a vole of your seasons pinching candied chestnuts like a Dibbun, you're worse than Clecky ... Hello, what's this?"

By accident, she had trodden on a lump of the congealed candlewax, which had broken from the holder in its fall.

As the candlewax broke under Tansy's paw, a large pink globe rolled out across the floor.

Martin stared at it in wonder. "A pearl," he whispered. "A perfect pink pearl."

"So that was it," said Rollo. "Hidden in plain view! Fermald pushed the pearl into the molten wax and it set around it. Clever!"

Rollo sat flat upon the floor, watching Tansy breaking up the rest of the hardened wax globules. "Tears, the Tears of all Oceanswe're hunting for pearls! Why didn't I think of it before? The most precious thing to come out of the great waters; though I've never heard them referred to as tears of oceans before. What a charming description! Tansy, you're making a dreadful mess breaking up all that wax over the floor. What are you doing?"

The young hedgehog maid produced a greasy ball of rolled-up paper, the same size as the pearl, from among the wax pieces.

"Hah! I found it, the clue to the second pearl!" she cried.

Clecky tried to look as if he was not chewing three chestnuts as he swaggered about, dusting himself down. "Mmmff snch! Knew I'd be able to help you chaps, mmf glupp! Takes an eagle eye an' a sharp brain t'hunt the jolly old pearls y'know, gronnff snch! No need to thank me, all in a day's work, wot? Youch!"

Friar Higgle's ladle caught him smartly on the tail, and he fled from the kitchens, yelling amid the laughter that followed him, "Base ingratitude. Yowp! Desist, sir, I say. Owch!"

Chapter 16

Of all the seagoing vermin frequenting Sampetra, Rasconza was the only fox. He was bosun to Slashback, searat captain of the ship Bloodkeel. Rasconza was tough, ambitious and smart; after the captains' revolt he had appointed himself leader of the rebel crews roaming the island's high hills.

The fox was a renowned blade thrower, having about him no fewer than ten daggers, which he would use at the drop of a paw. None of the other vermin challenged his position.

Rasconza crouched on a hilltop at the isle's northwest tip. Behind him in a hollow the vermin crews lay about, eating fruit, roasting fish and dozing in the warm tropical noon. But the fox was alert, watching the sea before him.

Barranca and the captains were sailing the Freebooter towards the inlet below, unaware that Sagitar, with a full crew of Trident-rats, was following in the Bloodkeel. Barranca had taken the open sea route, but Sagitar had followed at a distance, hugging the coast. Bloodkeel was now lying in wait around the high curving hills of the headland. Once Barranca sailed his ship into the inlet, Sagitar could slip around and block the exit with her vessel, trapping Freebooter and the captains. It would be the perfect ambush.

Rasconza's sharp brain and keen eyes took in the situation at a glance, and he laid his plans swiftly. Slipping away from the drowsing rebels was but the work of a moment. Once out of their sight the fox dashed headlong down the cliff towards the inlet and arrived in time to hail Barranca as Freebooter nosed into the shallows.

"Cap'n, 'tis I, Rasconza. There's a shipload of Trident-rats lying in wait for ye, they'll round the point soon an' trap yer!"

Barranca glanced around the narrow inlet, realizing it was too late to back water and turn for an open run out to sea. "We'll 'ave to stand an' fight 'em! Are the crews close by, mate we're goin' t'need 'elp!"

Rasconza put on his steadfast and honest face and saluted Barranca. "Leave it t'me, Cap'n," he said, voice grim and determined, "I'll muster 'em an' get back 'ere in a flash! You 'old those Trident-rats off, I won't be long!"

Barranca returned the salute as Rasconza trotted off. "That's the spirit, messmatetogether we'll give 'em a drubbin' they won't fergit!"

Rasconza ran puffing and panting uphill until the ships below looked like toys. Slowing down, he crept into the hollow where the crews lay asleep around the ashes of their fires. The fox cocked up both ears and listened, satisfied that he could hear no noise from far below. Then, retrieving half a roasted fish from the paws of a sleeping searat, he began eating slowly, mentally calculating the wait before putting the next stage of his plan into action.

After what he deemed an appropriate interval, Rasconza stood up, kicking those about him into wakefulness. "Our cap'ns are bein' massacred down there, look!" he yelled.

He dashed to the hilltop and pointed down to the inlet. Wave vermin rubbing sleep from their eyes joined him, yelling outrage at the scene below.

"Trident-rats! They've got the cove blocked off!"

"Scum, they've overrun the Freebooter!

"Let's get down there an' rip into 'em!"

"Aye, we'll make the waters run red t'save our cap'ns!"

Rasconza strode to the fore, bellowing, "Too late to save those cap'ns now, mates. I got a plan, lissen! We split into three groups. Baltur, you take one lot down there to the left, bypass the Trident-rats an' board the Bloodkeel from 'er stern! Gancho, you take another lot to the right an' board 'er from the for'ard end, that way we've got ourselves a ship! I'll take the rest straight down the center an' attack the Trident-ratsI'll make 'em pay fer slaughterin' our cap'ns!"

A roar of approval went up from the crewbeasts.

Sagitar had not thought it would be so hard to slay six captains and take one prisoner, but it had been a long and bitter fight. Once she had blocked the inlet by anchoring Bloodkeel across it, she ordered her Trident-rats to attack. They went overboard and had to swim until the water was shallow enough for them to wade.

The captains were waiting for them. Having armed themselves with pikes and boathooks, they dashed around Freebooter's rails, hacking and stabbing at every head that appeared over the side. But numbers began to tell. Urged on by Sagitar, the Trident-rats fought their way aboard. Immediately Barranca and his companions abandoned ship and, wading ashore, they speared viciously at the foebeasts in the shallows. Then Flaney fell to a trident thrust, followed by Rippdog and Rocpaw. Back to back, Slashback, Bloodsnout and Bilgetail kept off the advancing Trident-rats. Barranca joined them, blood streaming from him as he slashed about with his sabre, shouting, "Where's that fox got to with our crews?"

There was nothing left but to turn and run. Bilgetail and Bloodsnout went down, pierced by tridents. Slashback staggered on uphill, mortally wounded, Barranca supporting him. Finally Slashback fell sideways, knocking Barranca over as he did.

Surrounded by Trident-rats, Slashback breathed his last words into the corsair stoat's face. "What 'appened ... Where's fox?"

Barranca was dragged upright roughly. "So, corsair," Sagitar sneered at him. "I told you that you'd have me to deal with, but you were too clever to heed my words. How d'you feel now, scum!"

Barranca laughed harshly at his captor. “Yer lily-livered cur, you should've been within reach o' my blade, instead of leadin' yer army from be'ind!"

Sagitar ignored the jibe. She turned to her Trident-rats and ordered, "Scuttle the Freebooter in the shallows, her sailing days are over. The rest of you get aboard Bloodkeel and prepare to get under way!"

Scarcely had the Trident-rats opened Freebooter' s sea-cocks when a mighty yell arose from the rebel crews, who had succeeded in boarding the Bloodkeel. Sagitar wheeled in dismay to see Baltur and Gancho and hordes of wave vermin at the rails, yelling and roaring.

"Come on, buckoes, make crabmeat of 'em!"

"Haharr, give 'em steel an' take no prisoners!"

Stranded on the shore with a mere ten rats to guard herself and control the captured Barranca, Sagitar's last shred of courage deserted her at the sound of more bloodcurdling yells from behind. She turned and saw Rasconza leading a pack of vermin downhill, straight at her. The Emperor's Chief Trident-rat fled the scene, dashing off southward at a tangent, into the hills.

Barranca whooped triumphantly and, breaking free of his guards, he ran with open paws towards Rasconza.

"Ho, ho, yer a sight fer sore eyes, matey!" he cried.

As the corsairs threw themselves upon the ten Trident-rats, the fox grabbed Barranca in a tight embrace.

"Aye, Cap'n, yer worries are over now!" Rasconza said as, smiling slyly, he slew Barranca with a single knife thrust. Then, sheathing his blade quickly, he cried out, "They slew Cap'n Barranca, the scum! Finish 'em off, buckoes! I'll get Sagitar if'n it takes me last breath!"

He sped off after the Chief Trident-rat.

Sagitar threw a fleeting glance over her shoulder. The fox was hot on her trail. Stumbling and panting, the Trident-rat gained the hill summit and staggered southward, hoping to reach safety at the palace of Ublaz. Rasconza pursued her relentlessly, grinning as he closed in on his quarry.

Sagitar's paws felt leaden. She blew for breath as she started downhill. Chancing another quick look behind, she tripped and went rolling head over tail down the grassy slope. Rasconza bounded lightly alongside the Trident-rat until she came to rest, half in and half out of a gurgling stream.

Helpless and unarmed, Sagitar lay with the fox's knife at her throat, expecting no pity from him.

Rasconza flicked his bladepoint teasingly under her chin. "Well now, me beauty, what's t'be done with you?"

Sagitar broke into a sobbing whine. "Mercy, spare me!"

Standing upright, the fox kicked the Trident-rat contemptuously. "Quit yer snivelin', rat, I'd like nothin' better than t'gut ye, but I've got plans fer you, so lissen good!"

Wide-eyed with surprise, Sagitar lay staring upward at Rasconza as the devious fox relayed his information to her.

It was high noon of the following day. Ublaz sat atop the timber piled at the rear of his palace, and below him on the sunbaked ground Sagitar crouched, not daring to raise her eyes as she related the fox's message.

"Mightiness, the fox is called Rasconza. He said to tell you that it was he who slew Barranca and now he alone rules the rebel crews. Even now he is on his way here in the Bloodkeel. He wants to meet you tomorrow morning on the heights above the north inlet. You may bring armed guards with you. He says he wants to talk peace."

The Emperor whittled pensively at a sliver of wood with his silver dagger. "Rasconza, eh?" he said. "This fox sounds like one I could do business with. I think we'll take him up on his offer. Pick fifty of your best Trident-rats and a score of Monitors to accompany me. Oh, and Sagitar, you know what will happen should you ever fail me again?''

Avoiding the mad eyes, Sagitar stood trembling, head bowed. "Mightiness, I will never fail you again?"

Ublaz smiled thinly, his voice like oil flowing over ice. "I would hate to be in your skin if you did."

Chapter 17

Log a Log inspected Grath's longboat.

"You've got a couple o' boards cracked 'ere, matey," he announced. "I'll get some o' my shrews to turn 'er over an' we'll patch 'er up again."

The longboat had shipped water, and now she was over a quarter full. Six Guosim shrews heaved and huffed as they tried to turn the vessel over in the shingled cove.

Grath waved them aside. "Save yore strength, mates, I can do that."

She dismantled the mast and sail, placing them safe. Then digging her powerful paws under the shingle, she found a hold and lifted. In one move she turned the longboat upside down in a rush of water.

The shrew named Dabby wrinkled his nose in admiration. "Now that's wot I calls a strongbeast!"

Pine resin was melted over an open fire. Skillfully the Guosim applied it, alternating layers with tough vegetable fibers, until a proper repair was effected on the cracked boatribs. Other shrews had sewn and patched the torn sail, double-strengthening it on all four corners.

Finally, Grath set the longboat upright, and said, "Log a Log, I thank you and your Guosim for the help and kindness you've shown me. True friendship can't be properly expressed by just words, but, matey, I'll never ferget you!"

The shrew Chieftain kicked awkwardly at the pebbled shingle. "Oh, 'twas nothin', matewot use are friends if'n they can't 'elp one another? You be on yore way now, afore this tide ebbs. Trimp, Dimple, load those vittles aboard fer our mate!"

Two bags of provisions and a couple of canteens filled with drink were stowed under the stern seat. Aided by a gang of shrews, Grath pushed the longboat into the shallows and jumped aboard. Looking back at her newfound friends on the shore she sniffed and rubbed a paw across her eyes as she began setting the sail to catch the fine spring breeze.

Log a Log waded out and shook the lone otter's paw firmly. "Ahoy, what's all this? No time fer weepin' now, missie, the tide'll ebb away! Go on, off y'go, Grath, an' may good luck an' fair winds follow ye, matey!"

Heading out to catch the south current, Grath leaned over the stern, waving to the Guosim as they sang her on her way from the shore. Deep gruff shrew voices rang out across the waves into the bright sunny morn.

"Hey la ho, hey la ho,

Our hearts go with you where you go,

Hey la hey, hey la hey,

Maybe we'll meet again someday.

Like a feather on the breeze,

Blown to wander restlessly,

Out upon the open seas,

Travel speedily and free.

But as the earth turns,

And our fire burns,

And the moss grows on the lee,

When long day ends,

Think of old friends,

In whatever place you be.

Hey la ho, hey la ho,

Fortune follow you where e'er you go,

Hey la hey, hey la hey,

May sunlight warm your back upon the way."

Late afternoon sun cast lengthening shadows over Mossflower. A fire burned in a sheltered glade, and Lask Frildur sat warming his claws, watching his ten Monitors prowling restlessly around the two pitiful figures bound to the trunk of an elm. Long tongues snaking out, cold predatory eyes fixed on both mouse and bankvole, the lizards circled close.

Abbot Durral felt a scaly claw caress his footpaw; closing his eyes tight, he shuddered. Viola, rigid with terror, huddled as close to Father Abbot as her bonds would allow. Durral spoke reassuringly to her.

"Don't be frightened, little one, had they been going to harm us they would have done so long before now. We'll face them together and show them that Redwallers are brave creatures."

One of the Monitors brought his face close to Viola. She smelled the lizard's rancid breath as he bared sharp teeth and hissed, and she shrieked in fear.

The Monitor General far outstripped his lizards in size and strength. He bounded over and dealt the offending Monitor a savage blow with his tail that sent the reptile crashing into a nearby bush. Then turning to the others, Lask Frildur stood to his full height and snarled menacingly, “Eat birdz, eat fizhez, I zlay any who go near theze two!"

Abbot Durral addressed Lask in a reasonable and friendly tone. "Who are you, sir? Why have you bound us up like villains? We are creatures of peace ..."

The Monitor General rounded on him contemptuously. "Keep your ztupid mouth clozed, mouze!"

Viola plucked up her courage. "Don't you dare talk to him like that," she shouted shrilly at Lask. "He is Abbot Durral, the Father Abbot of all Redwall Abbey!"

A slow smile lit up the Monitor General's cold features. "Good, good, thiz iz very uzeful to me!"

Durral leaned back against the tree, sighing. “I wish you had not told him that, Viola. It has put both us and Redwall in a very dangerous position."

The volemaid wept bitterly at the realization of what she had done.

Durral was immediately sorry he had chided her. "Hush now, little one, here, turn your head and wipe your eyes on my sleeve. It wasn't your fault really, you are young and know nothing of situations like this. Hush now, don't cry."

A short time later Romsca strode into the glade at the head of her crew. She pointed to the prisoners. "Aye aye, what've we got 'ere?"

Lask ignored the question. He spoke without turning from his fire. "You have been gone long, corzair, why iz thiz?"

Squatting by the flames, Romsca speared an apple on her sword and began roasting it. "I've got news for you, matey. Graylunk's long dead. I found 'is bones, me'n'my crew, over in a pile o' rocks east of 'ere."

"What elze did you find, Romzca?"

"Nothin'. Not a single thing, no sign of any pearls, jus' ole Graylunk's bones an' the rags 'e wore."

"Did you talk with the creaturez at Redwall Abbey?"

"Course I did, that's how I knew where t'find what was left o' Graylunk. But mark my words, Lask, those beasts at Redwall ain't soft, they can fight, I know! If the pearls are anywheres you can lay a belayin' pin to a bobbin they're inside o' that red-walled Abbey somewheres. So, matey, yore in charge o' shore operations, what are y' goin' to do about it?"

The Monitor General did not attempt to hide a triumphant smirk. "I have two captivez. The old mouze iz Father Abbot of Redwall!"

Romsca nibbled at the steaming apple. "Well, ain't you the lucky lizard! But watch yore step, Lask, if those Redwallers find out you've got their Abbot, they'll come searchin' fer 'im in force an' tear these woodlands apart! I tell yer true, they've got tough, full-growed otters an' beasts who ain't scared of battle. Conva reckoned he saw a great badger roamin' the walltops last time we was 'ere. You might find ye've bitten off more'n y'can chew, takin' an Abbot as 'ostage!"

Lask Frildur stood up decisively. "I zerve my Emperor, Ublaz. I will do what I muzt! We will divide our forzez, half to take the prizonerz back to Waveworm, the other half to remain here under my command."

"Aye, that's good thinkin', matey," Romsca agreed, only too glad to be away from the hated Monitor General. "I'll take the 'ostages an' my crew back t'the ship ..."

Lask gripped Romsca's paw so tight that she winced. "You take half your crew and five of my Monitorz, that way there will be no trickz played. I keep half your crew here with my other five Monitorz."

The corsair managed to pull herself from the lizard's grip and stood fuming, paw on sword.

"All right, so be it, you don't trust me an' I don't trust you! Permission t'go, yer 'igh mightiness, or will there be anythin' else whilst I'm 'ere t'do yer biddin'?"

Smiling thinly, Lask produced a slim bone whistle and blew it. "Oh yezz, I had vizitorz while you were gone. They will accompany you back to your vezzel, juzt to keep an eye on thingzz!"

Grall the great black-backed gull and his remaining two companions, looking much the worse for wear, came padding through the trees.

As soon as Hogwife Teasel had told Martin about the corsair ferret and her questions about Graylunk and the pearls, he joined Skipper and his otters on the walltop, a look of concern clouding his face.

Skipper seemed unconcerned, however. "Oh, it was a corsair, no doubt o' that, an' I wager there's others waitin' orders in the woodlands. But wot's a crew 0' seascum an' vermin to us, Martin? We'll teach 'em a lesson they'll never ferget if'n they comes too close t'Redwall!"

Leaning over the parapet, Martin peered into the silent woodlands.

"I wish it were that easy, Skip, but Tansy told me that the Abbot is out there with young Viola. They should have been back by now."

Dismay showed on Skipper's tough face. "Wot d'you suggest we do, Martin?"

"We'd best get the elders together and hold a quick council of war."

Tansy and Rollo caught up with Martin as he crossed the lawn with Auma the badger Mother and Foremole.

"Martin, what can we do to help?"

The Warriormouse paused a moment before he entered the gatehouse where the other elders were waiting. "Keep on with the search for the other five pearls, you two. I've a feeling we may need them!"

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

Tansy pulled Rollo toward the wallsteps. "Let's sit out here. It's a nice afternoon, maybe we'll think better out in the fresh air."

Rollo read out the rhyme from the waxy paper for the fourth time. Like the first of Fermald's poems, it seemed to make little sense.

"I shed my second tear, into the cup of cheer,

But look not into any cup, the answer's written here!

My first is in blood and also in battle,

My second in acorn, oak and apple,

My third and fourth are both the same,

In the center of sorrow and twice in refrain,

My fifth starts eternity ending here,

My last is the first of last... Oh dear!

If I told you the answer then you would know,

'Twas made in the winter of deepest snow."

Tansy drummed her paws in frustration on the steps. "Ooh, that Fermald! If she were still alive I'd give her a piece of my mind! This rhyme's twice as tricky as the last one!"

They sat in silence, racking their brains until the Abbey bells tolled four times. Rollo had started to doze, but the bells woke him, and he said, "Come on, Tansy, let's go for tea!"

It was such a nice afternoon that Brother Dormal and Teasel had arranged tea in the orchard. Rollo and Tansy took scones, crystallized fruits, cream and steaming rosehip tea and sat with Piknim the mousemaid and Craklyn the squirrelmaid beneath the spreading boughs of an old gnarled apple tree. No sooner had Tansy sat down than Arven's face appeared upside down in front of her. He wrinkled his nose and stuck out his tongue.

"Tansy pansy toogle doo .. . Boo!"

The little squirrel was hanging by his tail from a bough. Tansy unhooked him and lifted him down.

"You little maggot, you'll fall on your head one day!"

Arven helped himself to a pawful of cream and ran off, giggling at the clever trick he had played.

Piknim looked over Rollo's shoulder at the waxy paper. "What's that, mister Rollo, the words of a song?"

The Recorder threw up his paws in despair. “I wish it were, miss, it's a riddle."

"Ooh, a riddle, lovely!" Piknim and Craklyn chorused in a single voice.

Rollo looked at them over his spectacle tops. “You mean that you like riddles? Are you any good solving them?"

The two friends immediately broke out into:

"If string cannot sing then answer this riddle,

What sings as sweet as the strings of a fiddle,

The fiddlestring sings, but it never can throw

An arrow so far as the string of a bow,

But a bow plays a fiddle and I'll marry thee,

If you give a bright bow of ribbon to me!"

They curtsied prettily as Rollo applauded, saying, "Well sung, misses, you can help us solve our riddle!"

Piknim and Craklyn read Fermald's poem twice then began tittering and winking at each other. Tansy looked from one to the other. "You've solved it, haven't you?" she demanded.

They began teasing.

"Well yes, but then again, no!"

"We've solved it, but not all the rhyme."

"But we know what the main part means!"

"Oh yes, it's a six-letter word!"

Rollo could restrain himself no longer. "Well, in the name of seasons and summers, tell us!"

Piknim and Craklyn were real teasers. They went off into gales of tittering and giggling until they were unable to talk.

Tansy placed a restraining paw on the irate Recorder. “Leave this to me, Rollo!" Scooping up two large globs of cream, she faced the laughing duo.

"If you don't tell me by the time I count three, stand by for a creamy facewash. One ... Two ..."

They both yelled out, "It's a barrel, it's a barrel!"

Still holding the pawfuls of cream, Tansy commanded them, "Right, show us how you arrived at the answer."

Piknim and Craklyn talked like a double act, one after the other.

"Well, we don't know what the first two lines mean, all that stuff about cup of cheer and shed a tear."

"But that line, my first is in blood and also in battle. Only two letters appear twice in both words, the B and the L."

"Yes, and the next line's easy. Acorn, oak and apple have only one letter in common, the A."

"Now, look at these lines, my third and fourth are both the same, in the center of sorrow and twice in refrain. The middle of the word sorrow contains the letter R twice, and R crops up twice in the word refrain. So it's R and R."

"Correct, now the next line. My fifth starts eternity ending here. Simple, what starts the word eternity and ends the word herethe same letter, an E."

"The final one isn't too difficult either. My last is the first of last. Huh! The first letter of the word last is an L."

"So, we've got a B or an L, then an A, two Rs, an E and an L."

"And it's certainly not larrel, so it's got to be barrel!"

Piknim jumped up and down clapping her paws, squeaking, "Oh, this is fun, can we help you some more?"

Tansy was musing over the word and gazing at the waxy paper. "What? Yes, of course you can help. Hmmm, barrel, where in Redwall would we find a barrel?"

Rollo put his food to one side. "In the winecellar?"

Piknim and Craklyn were off, running ahead of Tansy and Rollo. "Last one to the winecellar is a jumpy toad!"

Rollo trailed on behind Tansy. "Carry on, young misses, with your fleet young paws. I'll just take my time like any old jumpy toad!"

Chapter 18

The Stump family had been in charge of Redwall's winecellars for many seasons. Friar Higgle Stump's brother Furlo was a strong fat hedgehog, conscientious and tidy in all things pertaining to his beloved cellars. He sat the three maids and Rollo down on a bench and fetched them a drink.

"This'll cool you down, fresh-brewed dandelion and burdock cordial," Furlo said as he poured out four beakers from a big jug. It was cool, sweet and dark with a creamy foam head, and they drank gratefully.

Then the cellar-keeper dug his paws into his wide apron pocket, saying, "Now, young 'uns, an' you, Rollo sir, what can I do for ye?"

The Recorder wiped a foamy moustache from his mouth. "I know this sounds silly, Furlo, but we're looking for a barrel."

"Well, sir, I've got lots o' barrels down 'ere, which one'd you like?"

Tansy spread the waxy paper flat on the bench. “Trouble is, sir, we don't know. Maybe if you read this it may help."

Furlo Stump was a slow reader. He borrowed Rollo's spectacles and scanned the rhyme for what seemed an age. Then he scratched his huge spiky head in bewilderment. "Dearie me, I can't unnerstand none of that, missie. 'Ere, you 'ave a look round my cellars whilst I think about it."

Rollo took them on a tour. He had worked in the winecellars on many an occasion when he was younger and had a fair knowledge of things.

"What a lot of barrels, mister Rollo!"

"They're not all barrels, miss Craklyn; those great giant ones standing in the corner, they're called tuns. Beetroot wine is kept in them. Barrels are these smaller ones, mainly for ale. Then there's the kilderkin, a bit smaller, for cordials and such, and smaller again, half the size, is the firkin, usually for wines. Any small quantities of strong wine are kept in these little casks."

Tansy waved her paw around, indicating the cellar stocks. "So we can rule out most of these, and just pay attention to the barrels, is that right, Rollo?''

The old Recorder shrugged. "Who knows, maybe Fermald knew little of cellars and they all looked like barrels to her. Where are we then?"

Furlo approached them, still scratching his head and looking very unsure of himself. "Beg pardon, Rollo sir, but I been thinkin' about the poem as was written down on that paper. There's somethin' a botherin' my 'ead, those words at the end o' the rhyme: the winter of the deepest snow. I remember when I was but a Dibbun, my father told me somethin' about a cellar-keeper name of Ambrose Spike, long afore my time, though what it was 'e told me I can't recall."

Rollo halted him with an upheld paw. "Ambrose SpikeI remember him from when I was a Dibbun. Piknim, you're the fastest runner. Nip across to the gatehouse and ask Wullger to dig out the volumes of a Recorder named Tim Churchmouse. Craklyn, go with her, there may be more than one volume to carry. Bring them straight back here to me, quick as y'like now!"

The two young ones sped off out of the cellars, shouting, "Last one to the gatehouse is a frumpy frog!"

As it turned out, neither of the young maids was a frumpy frog. They matched each other for speed all the way to the gatehouse and back to the winecellar, arriving breathless and burdened down with two volumes apiece. Furlo poured out more dandelion and burdock cordial for everyone. With tiny spectacles balanced on his nose end, Rollo pored through page after yellowed page, muttering to himself.

"Spring of the lesser periwinkle, hmm, later than that. Autumn of the late marjoram, hmmm, later I think. Summer of the rosebay willowherb, ha, I've gone too far, it was the winter before that. Yes, here it is, winter of the deepest snow, got it!"

The three young maids leaned over Rollo's shoulder eagerly. "What does it say, sir, tell us?"

Rollo took a deep draft of cordial before reading, “Ambrose Spike was lucky, he harvested all the rhubarb he had been growing alongside the west wall before the snows started. The snow is now so deep they have named this season the Winter of the Deepest Snow. The weather outside is harsh and gloomy, but Redwallers are merry and snug within our Abbey. I helped Ambrose in the cellars today; he is squeezing the rhubarb with great stone slabs and ale barrels as weights. The juice we mixed with clear honey and poured into a firkin; it is a beautiful pink color. Ambrose Spike would not allow me to touch it. He says it will not be properly ready for at least two seasons, but when it is ready, Ambrose is of the opinion it will be unequaled for taste.

"I left him to go back to my recording today. Ambrose was fitting the lid tight onto the firkin with soft willow withes. He had a brush and vegetable dye to paint the name on the firkin. I like the name he has chosen for this wine: the Cup of Cheer."

Tansy repeated the first line of the rhyme aloud, "I shed my second tear, into the cup of cheer!"

Rollo slammed the volume shut, sending up a small dust-cloud. "Of course, a pink pearl in pink wine!"

There were a lot of firkins, each one identical to the next. They stood on end, two high. Furlo bade Tansy and her friends stand aside as he lifted each one down for inspection. They could not help smiling at the fashion in which hedgehog cellar-keepers wrote the names on different firkins, though they did not laugh aloud for fear of offending Furlo Stump. The powerful hedgehog lifted down one firkin after another for their inspection, and Rollo translated the simple spelling.

"Persnup corjul, ahem, that'll be parsnip cordial. Pinnycludd win, er, that'll be pennycloud wine. What's this onerabzerry viggen?"

Furlo chuckled. "That's raspberry vinegar, sir. Us cellar 'ogs ain't the best o' scholars, but we know our own marks when we sees 'em!"

Tansy and Craklyn dusted off the bottom of a firkin which Furlo had laid on its side. Piknim read out the faint green lettering, "Ambrows Spiks faymiss Kopachir?"

Tansy said the last word several times before it dawned on her. “Kopachir ... Kop a chir ... Kup a chir ... Cup o' chir ... Cup of Cheer!"

Rollo stroked the aged wood reverently. "This is the one, made long ages ago in the winter of the deepest snow. Ambrose Spike's famous Cup of Cheer!"

It took quite a while for the cellar-keeper to tap the bung. With his coopering hammer, he knocked a sharp spigot through the center of the firkin bung without losing a drop of its contents. Then, with a mighty heave, Furlo lifted the firkin onto a table and began running the liquid off into an empty barrel. They watched the pink rhubarb wine splashing out in a shining stream.

Rollo caught some in a beaker and tasted it. "Delicious, but very strong, perhaps Sister Cicely could make use of it in the sick bay for cold and chills."

Tansy could not resist adding, "Instead of warm nettle broth!"

When the firkin was empty Furlo removed both tap and bung and began shaking it; something clattered around inside.

Piknim had the smallest paw; she reached inside and felt around. "Move it a touch this way, please, mister Furlo, a bit more ... Ah, got it!"

It was a tiny stone beaker, of the type used for medicine doses. Its top had been sealed over with beeswax. Furlo cut the wax away with a small quill dagger, and out fell an exquisite pink pearl.

"My, my, that 'un's a fair beauty of a treasure," the cellar-keeper remarked admiringly. "Ain't never seen anythin' as 'andsome in all me born days!"

Tansy, however, was far more interested in the thin fold of paper lining the bottom of the beaker; she picked it out and unfolded it.

Auma looked around the worried faces inside the gatehouse and spread her paws placatingly. "Please, friends, let's not do anything hasty. There's still time for the Abbot to return yet. I've often known him to stay out far later than this."

"But not when there are corsairs and vermin abroad in Mossflower," said Martin.

The badger Mother turned her gaze on him. "What do you suggest we do?" she asked.

The Warriormouse stared out of the window at the evening sky. "I think the best thing is to wait until dark. If Viola and the Abbot are not back by then, something is surely amiss. I can lead a party out into the woodlands by night. We know the woods better than strangers do, and they will not be expecting us."

Skipper seconded Martin's proposal. "Yore right, matey. I'll go along with you. Hark, what's that?"

Wullger the gatekeeper knew immediately. "Somebeast poundin' on the main gate outside. It ain't the Abbot, though, 'e knocks proper like a gentlebeast, always three taps. I'd advise you go atop of the wall to see whatbeast is makin' that sort o' din!"

Martin, Auma and Skipper raced out of the gatehouse and up the wallstairs. They stood on the main threshold over the gate, staring down at a band of creatures, the leader of whom seemed to make the rural twilight sinister and unclean with its presence.

Even tough Skipper was taken aback. "Seasons o' slaughter!" he whispered to Martin. "Am I 'avin' a bad dream, or is that thing real?"

Surrounded by half a crew of corsairs and searats, the Monitor General stood head and shoulders over his remaining five lizards. Lask Frildur made a horrific and impressive sight. His flat reptilian eyes watched the Redwallers as he pointed a monstrous scaled claw and rasped officially, "Open your gatez, I have wordz to zay to you!"

The Warriormouse showed no fear. His voice rang out like steel striking an anvil. "I command these gates, not you! Say who you are and what you want, but don't try giving orders to me!"

The huge Monitor puffed out his throat balefully. "I am Lazk Frildur, Monitor General to the mighty Emperor Ublaz. I come here to collect zigz pearlz called the Tearz of all Oceanz. They were ztolen from my mazteryou will return them!"

Auma leaned towards Martin, her voice low. "I don't like this. That reptile wouldn't turn up here demanding anything if he didn't have something up his sleeve."

Skipper's lips barely moved as he muttered, "She's right, matey, you'll 'ave to see if'n y'can bluff 'im!"

Martin kept his face grim and resolute as he murmured to his friend, "I certainly will have to bluff my way along; we don't have six pearls and it could be a long while until we do. Let's see if I can find out what's making this lizard so confident."

Lask's tongue was beginning to flicker impatiently. "I am waiting, mouze!"

Martin leaned carelessly against the battlements. "Supposing we did have these six pearls to give you, what would we receive in return for them?"

"The livez of your Abbotmouze and a bankvole!"

Martin felt his heart sink, but he kept up a nonchalant attitude. "You lie, lizard. How do I know you are holding them?"

At a signal from the Monitor General, one of the lizards hurled up a small bundle weighted with a stone. It clattered on the threshold. Auma seized it and tore away the vine-wrapped rags.

Martin felt his worst fears confirmed as he saw Skipper pick up two pairs of Redwall sandals, one pair slightly larger than the other. It was hard for the Warriormouse to keep his voice calm as he said, "These are just two pairs of sandals, they could belong to anybeast..."

For the first time, Lask Frildur smiled, showing yellowed rows of evil-looking teeth. "The Abbotmouze iz called Durral, Viola iz the maid'z name. You want more proofhere!" Lask's claw shot out as he hurled something up.

Auma swallowed hard. She picked up the delicate object, both finely polished crystal lenses smashed. "Father Abbot's glasses. Look, Martin."

Blood rose in the Warriormouse's eyes. Raging and roaring, he tried to tug free of Skipper and Auma, straining to climb over the battlements at his foe. “Touch one hair of their heads and I will slay you, scalescum! You and all your rabble, I will send you to Hellgates!"

Lask had never seen such ferocity from any creature. He realized that Romsca's warning had not been an idle one: these Redwallers did indeed have warrior blood in their veins. Steadying himself, he called back to the raging beast on the walltop, "Your friendz are unharmed, but they are far from here on a vezzel anchored out on the great waterz, you cannot rezcue them. Bring me the pearlz and I will releaze the captivez to you!"

Having delivered his ultimatum, Lask marched off quickly with his followers and dodged smartly into the cover of Mossflower Wood.

Auma held Martin tight. He was still struggling, tears of helpless rage flowing openly down his cheeks, and she had to exert all her strength to hold him.

"Skipper, let's get him back down into the gatehouse," she said. "We need to think this out calmly. Grab his footpaws, he has the power and wildness of a badger Lord. I've never seen Martin like this!"

Unaware of what had taken place on the walltop, Tansy sat with Rollo, Piknim and Craklyn in the cellars, puzzling over Fermald the Ancient's third, and what seemed to them most baffling, rhyme. Tansy read it aloud for the umpteenth time:

"My sad third tear is shed, for one who now lies dead,

A friendly foe it was to me, a cunning old adversary.

Now heed the clues and read my rhyme,

Patience pays but once this time.

Inside the outer walls I lie,

Without me you would surely die.

I am not earth nor am I stone,

No shape at all to call my own,

Not bird or beast or flow'r or tree,

Yet captives live within me free!"

Rollo removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes, sighing wearily. "Is there any of that dandelion and burdock cordial left? Pour me some, please, Craklyn. This is a real poser and no mistake!"

The squirrelmaid offered a suggestion as she poured the drink. "I wonder if Fermald was writing about the dead creature, Graylunk? See, the first line says, my sad third tear is shed, for one who now lies dead. What d'you think, Tansy?"

The hogmaid studied the slim paper scrap in front of her. "No, it couldn't be. Graylunk's remains are outside in Mossflower, and this line states clearly, inside the outer walls I lie."

The mousemaid agreed. "Correct. What we're looking for lies within the walls of our Abbey. It's not much of a clue, but I think it means something not actually inside this main building."

Craklyn thought about it, then seconded her friend's view. "Aye, when we talk of things in the grounds we always say inside the Abbey walls. Not within the Abbey, but between the building and the outer wall."

Rollo was tired, but the logic suddenly dawned upon him. "Oh, I see! You mean outsidethe orchard, the lawns and so on. Right, who do we know who lies buried out there?"

Furlo Stump was restacking the firkins back in place, listening to the conversation. Leaving his work he ambled over, wiping slowly at his strong paws with a damp cloth. “Beg pardon, but don't mind me sayin', I thinks yore wrong lookin' for a he or a she. The poem says it were an it, not he nor she. A friendly foe it was to me, the line says. I'm prob'ly wrong though, but I jus' thought I'd mention it."

Tansy shook Furlo's paw heartily. "Well done, mister Furlo. That was cleverly thought out! Sometimes we can get too smart for our own good and miss the clue, and that's when we need good common sense like yours, sir. Come on, let's take a look around outside, there's still time before dark."

The friends had barely ventured outdoors into the gathering dusk when Auma came hurrying towards them, calling, "Have you seen Martin or Skipper recently, are they inside?"

Tansy sensed something was wrong by the worried look on the badger's homely face. "No, we haven't seen them, Auma. What's happened?"

Ushering them back inside, the badger Mother glanced about. "Come, help me search for Martin and Skipper. I'll tell you as we go ..."

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

BOOK TWO

Westward the Warriors

Chapter 19

Pale white as watery milk, a spring moon cast its light over the still trees of Mossflower, patching light and deep shadows throughout the silent woodlands. Without the need of lanterns, Martin the Warriormouse strode abreast with the Skipper of Otters, Clecky the mountain hare and his companion Gerul the barn owl. Martin had sheathed the sword of his legendary namesake across his back; Skipper carried sling, stones and a light javelin, whilst Clecky had found a hare longbow and quiver of arrows in Redwall's armory. Gerul had his formidable talons and fierce curved beak, weapons enough for any owl.

Telling only Auma of their plans, the four friends had slipped away from the Abbey, making a pact that they would only return in the company of Abbot Durral and Viola bankvole. Skipper and Martin were both experienced trackers. A broken twig, a crushed leaf or the slightest pawdent in the Mossflower loam was sufficient to tell them that they were right on the trail of Lask Frildur and the vermin crew.

It was long after midnight when they spotted the glimmer of campfire 'twixt the treetrunks. Martin waited with Clecky and Skipper, while Gerul flew to investigate, gliding like an elusive moonbeam through the high foliage.

They had not long to bide before Gerul returned. Fluttering down to the low boughs of an alder, the owl blinked and ruffled his breast feathers briskly. "Ah, 'tis them all right, sir, bold as brass an' cheeky as chaffinches, squattin' on their hunkers an' gnawin' at pore dead birds. But the big lizard spoke truth, so he did. There's not a sign of the good ould Abbot, nor the liddle volemaid, he's hid them away on that ship he spoke of, the scurvy rascal!"

Martin unsheathed his sword. "Skip, you go in from the left, Clecky, you and Gerul circle in from the right, I'll take the center. Wait for my call, then it's straight in and give no quarter. But remember, we want to take the leader alive, so don't slay the big one called Lask. We need him to bargain for the Abbot and Viola. Go now and good luck be with you!"

A single vermin sentry had been posted on the left side. It was closest to the woodland edge, and Lask considered that the most likely place an attack would come from. Normally he would not have bothered with a sentry, but something in the maddened eyes of the Warriormouse had told him that this was no creature who would sit still and bargain whilst those under his protection were held hostage.

The sentry was a burly stoat called Skarbod, veteran corsair of many fights and battles. Hiding behind an elm trunk, Skarbod watched Skipper creeping noiselessly forward. The stoat stood well hidden by the broad elm as, drawing a scimitar, he waited for the otter to pass him.

Skipper heard the corsair's blade start whistling through the air; only speed saved the otter Chieftain's life. Throwing himself flat to the earth, he left the blade slashing night air. Then, rolling over, he thrust upward like lightning with his javelin.

"Yeeeeaaagh!"

Skarbod's last scream was cut short as he fell dead on top of his slayer. As Skipper threw him off, pandemonium broke out.

Martin charged through the center like a thunderbolt. "Redwaaaaall!"

A searat who was not fast enough fell to Martin's blade. Lask Frildur immediately signaled his Monitors to follow him. Leaping back out of the firelight, he hissed at the corsairs, "He iz only one, kill the mouze!"

Suddenly Martin was hemmed in by vermin swinging a variety of weapons; he cleaved a ferret immediately in front of him. A weasel behind him raised an axe, but before the vermin could strike a feathered shaft took it through the nape of his neck, and the time-honored battlecry of hares and badgers rang through the glade.

"Eulaliaaaa!"

Clecky and Gerul stormed in at the same time Skipper hit hard on the opposite flank of the melee. Four more fell before the corsairs broke and scattered in all directions.

The fire had been scattered in the ambush. Clecky coughed and rubbed his eyes as he staggered about, shouting, "Onward the buffs! Death before dinner! Stand an' fight!"

Skipper halted the hare, who had picked up a broad-bladed cutlass and was in danger of felling anybeast who came near with it.

"Whoa there, mate, can't yer see they've fled!" the otter said.

As the smoke cleared, it became apparent that the four Redwallers were alone. Martin stepped out of the cloud of choking smoke, saying, "What happened to the lizards?"

Gerul beat the air with his wings to clear it. "The blackguards never even stopped t'fight, sir, they were away through the dark like a half-dozen ould swallows flyin' south!"

Skipper had picked up the trail on the far side of the camp. "They went this way, Martin, come on!"

Lask and his Monitors had a good head start. They emerged from the woodlands onto the path, where most of the panic-sped remnants of the crew joined them. The Monitor General found himself facing an angry searat brandishing a spear.

"Yew rotten coward! Slidin' away an' leavin' yore shipmates in the lurch! Yer a spineless, scale-faced ... Unhh!"

Lask wasted no time. One great smash of his heavy tail left the searat lying with a broken neck. Scuttling across the path, Lask leapt into the ditch running along its west side. “We muzt get back to the vezzel. Follow me, or ztay and die like he did!"

Wordlessly they piled into the ditch and splashed along behind the Monitor General, their flight made more desperate by the knowledge that the Redwallers would soon be on their heels.

Skipper was lagging behind. Martin waited for him to catch up, and saw that he was hobbling slightly.

"Skip, what's the matter, you old streamdog?" he asked.

The otter grimaced and lifted his right footpaw. "Oh, I'll be all right, mate. Stepped on some vermin's fallen sword back there, 'tis only a scratch ..."

Clecky inspected the wound. "If y'call that a scratch, bucko, then I'd hate t'see what you call a real wound. Gerul, Martin, scout about, see if y'can come up with any herbs. Sit still, old chap, this shouldn't take long."

Martin returned with dock leaves, but Gerul had found some young sanicle, of which he was very proud. "Me ould mother always said sanicle's just the plant fer keepin' wounds from gettin' infected. She said 'twas also a grand remedy for the owl wumps an' spotty egg pimples, so she did!"

Martin tore a strip from his tunic sleeve, and Clecky used it to bandage the dock and sanicle tightly to Skipper's footpaw. "There y'go! You'll never see an otter totter with a bandage like that on his jolly old paw, wot wot? An' y'won't have to worry about spotty egg wumps or owl pimples, or whatever it was that burblebeak's old mum was always goin' on about. So that's you fixed up, me ole scout, good as new!"

Clecky was right. Skipper could get along on the bandaged footpaw as if it had never been injured.

Dawn was starting to streak the sky as the friends scoured the path for signs. It did not take Skipper long to discover Lask's plan.

"Hah! Ole scaletail thinks he's throwin' us off the scent by jumpin' in the ditch an' sloshin' through the water. Just look 'ere, Martin, bruised nettles, broken reeds, mud sloshed everywhere, it's plainer'n the nose on yer face!"

They walked along the edge of the ditch following the signs as the sun rose on a bright spring day.

Chapter 20

Breakfast at Redwall that morning was a subdued affair. Tansy hardly noticed little Arven and the molemaid Diggum helping themselves slyly to the blackcurrant muffins on her platter. She looked up from a beaker of mint tea growing cold in front of her; Auma the badger Mother was rising from her seat. A gradual hush fell on the diners as Auma's paw went up.

"Friends, there is a lot of gossip and rumor abroad in our Abbey since last night, so let me set matters straight. Our Abbot and young Viola bankvole have gone missing; they are probably lost in Mossflower Wood somewhere. Martin has taken some companions and gone to search for them. I am sure that eventually they will all come home safely. Meanwhile, our life at Redwall must carry on as usual; Abbot Durral would wish it so. Therefore I ask you to carry on with your work as you always do, look after the Dibbuns, do not wander outside the Abbey gates, see to your chores, and above all please do not indulge in gossip and scaremongering. That is all."

Diggum absently took a gulp of Arven's pennycloud cordial. "Worrum 'bout ee gurt blizzard, will ee cum back an' eat us oop?"

Arven considered this as he stole Diggum's nutbread. "Naw, blizzards on'y eat h'Abbots an' voles's!"

Tansy wiped cordial from Diggum's chin. "The word is lizard, not blizzard. And don't say such horrible things. What has Mother Auma just said about gossiping?"

Arven wrinkled his nose at the hogmaid as he climbed down from the dining bench. "She din't say Dibbuns not gossip, we be likkle an' don't know no better. C'mon, Diggum."

With their paws about each other's shoulders, the unstoppable pair ambled off chanting at each other, "Gossip gossip gossip gossip gossip!"

Rollo joined Tansy, nodding in the Dibbuns' direction. "What are those-two up to?"

Tansy shook her head, smiling fondly at the retreating Dibbuns. "Oh, they're just gossiping, they're too little to know any better."

Rollo adjusted his glasses higher on his nose. "Let us gossip a bit about these pearls. Auma tells me we need all six of them to ransom Viola and the Abbot from their captors."

Tansy got up and accompanied Rollo outside. "That's a lot easier said than done. This third rhyme has me well and truly stumped, Rollo. Did you dream up any solutions during the night? I know I didn't."

Piknim and Craklyn were already outside, sitting on the ramparts over the gatehouse. Teasel the hogwife was with them, sipping at a large mug of dandelion tea.

"Mornin', Rollo, mornin', Tansy. My, wot a nice day 'tis. I'm just coolin' my ole paws out 'ere an' takin' tea, them kitchens gets so steamy 'ot after breakfast."

Rollo and Tansy went up to the walltop and continued studying the rhyme with Piknim and Craklyn, whilst Teasel sipped tea and hummed to herself.

Tansy passed the thin paper to Piknim. "Oh, here, you have it. I'm getting dizzy just looking at that rhyme and getting nowhere with it. My sad third tear is shed, for one who now lies dead, a friendly foe it was to me, a cunning old adversary. Hmm, I can repeat it by heart now. Teasel, you knew Fermald the Ancient as well as any; what friends did she have to your knowledge?

The good hogwife scratched her headspikes. "Friends, y'say? I don't know as Fermald ever spoke of otherbeasts as friends, 'ceptin' that wounded vermin Graylunk an' maybe ole Grimjaw, an' that'n she spoke of as friend an' foe in the same breath. Aye, Fermald were a right ole strange 'un!"

Rollo looked up sharply from the rhyme. "Grimjaw? Who in the name of autumn apples was Grimjaw?"

Teasel sipped at her tea, rocking back and forth. "Fermald often told me about Grimjaw, though goodness knows wot she'd 'ave done with the thing if ever she'd 'ave caught it."

Rollo blinked impatiently over his glasses at the hogwife. "Really, marm, will you please stop talking in riddles and tell us what you know about this ... this Grimjaw!"

Teasel blew huffily on her tea to cool it. "Now don't you get all sharp wi' me, mister Recorder, or I shan't say another word. Politeness don't cost pear pudden, they say!"

Tansy smiled winningly, stroking the ruffled hogwife's paw. "There, I'm sure Rollo didn't mean to be sharp, missus Stump. Please tell us about Grimjawit's very important that we know."

Teasel cast a fond glance at the young hogmaid. "Well, all right, missie. Never mind that ole grump, I'll tell you. Every time there was about t'be a feast or celebration, Fermald brought out her rod'n'line to fish the Abbey pond. She was forever try in' to catch a big ole grayling that'd lived there for more seasons than most could remember. Fermald wanted that fish to grace the Abbot's table, but she never did manage to catch it. She'd stop out there from dawn till dusk, empty-pawed an ungry. Later, I'd serve 'er supper leftovers. 'Teasel,' she'd say, 'that grayling is my best friend and my worst foe. The long hours I spent trying to catch that fish,' she'd say, 'but he won't be caught, the old villain, he always escapes my line!' That's wot she'd say."

Suddenly everything became clear to Craklyn. She waved the paper, chanting,

"Inside the outer walls I lie,

Without me you would surely die.

I am not earth nor am I stone,

No shape at all to call my own,

Not bird or beast or flow'r or tree,

Yet captives live within me free!

"The answer is water! Without it anybeast would surely die. Water's not earth, stone, beast, bird, flower or tree. It has no shape of its own. Fish swim freely in it, though they are really captives of whatever stretch of water they live in. Our water lies within the Abbey wallsI can see it from here, the Abbey pond!"

Teasel watched the young ones scampering down the steps and speeding over the lawns, with Rollo in their wake. She sipped her tea. "Dearie me an' lackaday, dashin' an' a rushin' about, where'11 it all end? Ah well, leastways now a body can sup 'er dan'elion tea in peace 'n' quiet, afore it's time t'get lunch prepared!"

The four searchers stood at the edge of Redwall's pond. It was a pretty spot. Rushes and sedge sprouted thick in the shallows of its far edge, and an old, flat-bottomed punt lay moored at the east bank. At its southern end the ground was light and sandy, running from a soft mossy hillock into the sunwarmed shallows. Deeper out the water took on an emerald-green hue, and myriad small flying insects dipped to cause ripples in the stillness.

Gazing at the peaceful scene, Tansy raised a question which had been bothering her since she had first heard about the grayling.

"How do we know old Grimjaw is dead? Fermald never caught the fish and we've only her word that he died. Maybe Grimjaw was just too old to rise to the bait; perhaps he's still alive down there."

It was a sobering thought. None of them fancied searching a dim pond where a big grayling might be lurking in the depths or hiding among the reeds to defend its territory against intruders.

Then Tansy came up with a quick solution. "Hi, Glenner, got a moment to spare down here?" she called to the walltop.

Glenner was a young female otter, one of Skipper's crew. She was still on walltop patrol, keeping an eye out for gulls or vermin. Glad to be relieved of the monotonous task, she bounded readily down, calling, "Good morrow, mates, anythin' I can do for ye?''

Flicking a pebble into the pond, Tansy watched the ripples spread. "Glenner, d'you think there's a big old grayling in there?" she asked.

The otter thumped her tail thoughtfully on the bank. "I dunno, could be. Skipper always told us when we were young never to disturb big ole fishes, they can be very dangerous an' bad-tempered. There's an ole otter poem we had t'learn as young 'uns.

“ Frisk in the water if you wish,

But stay clear of the big ole fish,

'Specially those with the fin like a sail.

They're the rogues who'll take yer tail,

So stay in the shallows an' bright sunlight,

An' y'll live to sleep round the fire at night!"

Rollo drew patterns in the sand with his footpaw. "Er, haha, is that what they say, really? Er, I don't suppose that you'd like to, er, maybe check the pond to see if there is actually a grim-ling, er, grayjaw, er, big fish living in there?"

Glenner's reply was cheery and prompt. "Cost you a good pan o' hotroot'n'watershrimp soup, mates. I ain't riskin' me pretty young rudder in that pond fer nothin', oh no!"

Tansy grabbed Glenner's paw and shook it vigorously. "Done! One pan of soup for one pink pearl!"

The otter cocked her head on one side quizzically. "Wot pink pearl? Y'never said ought about a pink pearl, matey."

"The big pink pearl that's lying at the bottom of that pond, puddenhead!" said Piknim. "You don't think we wanted you just to amuse yourself in the water looking for a fish, did you? If a big fish was all we wanted to know about, why, we could've tossed in a Dibbun to see if he got eaten. Then we'd know there was a big fish in there!"

Chortling, Glenner shoved the mousemaid playfully. "Go on with yer, missie, you wouldn't sling no liddle Dibbun in there. Right, stan' back, pals, if'n the fish eats me then give my soup to Skipper when he gets back from searchin' for yore Abbot!"

Glenner took a running dive, slipping into the pond without a single splash. They glimpsed a thin stream of bubbles rising from her chin, then she was gone, lost in the greeny depths. Tansy paced up and down the bank, wondering how anybeast could hold its breath for what seemed an eternity.

"Glenner should have been up by now," she said. "I wonder what she's doing down there? Hope she hasn't bumped into old Grimjaw..."

Like an arrow from a bow, Glenner shot from the pond in a rush of water, springing up onto the bank beside them. "Whooh! There's two graylings down there, mates, I seen 'em!"

Rollo's glasses slipped from his nose. "Two big fish?"

Glenner shook herself, spraying them with a cascade of droplets. "Aye, two, though one's long dead. I swam down to the bottom an' didn't see no grayling, just some minnows, roach an' a gudgeon. Then I spotted 'er, up alongside some boulders, a big tidy-lookin' female grayling. She was guardin' the bones oer mate. He must've been a big 'un, too, by the size ois frame. Looked like he died of ole age an' the minnows nibbled 'is carcass clean."

Tansy clapped her paws with excitement. “The pearl, did you see the big pink pearl, Glenner?"

"No, miss, 'fraid I didn't see no pearl. Does that mean I don't get me pot o' soup?''

Rollo polished his glasses carefully. "Sorry, not until we get the pink pearl."

Glenner winked at them, banging the last droplets from her sturdy rudderlike tail. "So be it, we'll 'ave to figger out a way t'keep the female grayling off my back, so I can search proper for yore pink pearl. Get me a good long staff. Ha! that punt pole will do. Now, let's get the punt over t'this bank where the shallows are clear, and stan' it up on its side. No big fish is goin' t'do Glenner out o' a pot o' hotroot'n'watershrimp soup made in Redwall's kitchen."

Craklyn turned to Piknim, bewildered. "What in the name of crab apples is that crazy otter up to?''

Tansy took them by the paws and headed for the punt. "Don't ask silly questions. Whatever it is, I'm willing to give it a try. Come on, you two!"

Chapter 21

There were two hilltops close to the northern inlet of Sampetra. Hardly a blade of grass stirred in the warm humid morning as Rasconza the fox and the rebel crews stood on top of one hill, facing Ublaz and his guard of Trident-rats and Monitors waiting on the other. The Emperor moved first, descending alone into the valley between both hills; Rasconza watched him a moment then followed suit. Ublaz sat down upon the grass, placing his only weapon, the silver dagger, on the ground in front of him. Rasconza unbuckled his belt with the ten daggers it held and slung the lot down, then he sat.

The mad-eyed Emperor smiled broadly. "You carry a lot of blades, Rasconza."

The corsair fox matched his smile, but avoided his eyes. "Aye, an' I can use 'em, too, Ublaz!"

The Emperor placed his silver dagger on top of Rasconza's weaponry. "Then take mine as a token of our friendship, for we did not come here today to talk of using knives, my friend."

Rasconza flipped the dagger into the air and caught it deftly. "Hah! A pretty toy, thankee. Oh, I'm fergettin' me manners, exchange of gifts, 'ere's somethin' fer you."

A gauzy silken scarf landed wisplike in the pine marten's lap. He picked it up and admired it. "Fine silk, hmm, green suits me, too. Does this gift signify anything? Is there a meaning behind it?''

Rasconza continued flipping the silver blade, watching it glitter in the sunlight.

"Oh, it signifies right enough, Ublaz. Wot you do is you puts it over yore face. That way you can see me, 'cos 'tis only thin silk, but I won't be lookin' into yore eyes. Aye, I've 'eard all about those glims o' yourn, an' I don't intend starin' into 'em an' losin' control o' my mind!"

Ublaz bound the scarf lightly across his eyes, chuckling. "A wise move, fox, very wise indeed! I can see I'm going to enjoy business dealings with you. Now, what is it you want?"

This time Rasconza did not catch the dagger. It landed point down in the ground. "The cap'ns are all dead," he said. "I meself slew Barranca, but you know that. So, I'm in charge of all the crews now an' I want peace. There's no profit in both sides killin' each other off. 'Ere's my proposition. You appoint me Grand Cap'n of all the ships in 'arbor an' I'll serve yer."

"Forgive my asking," Ublaz interrupted, "but how can you captain six ships at once?"

Rasconza shook his head. "I don't want ter cap'n all six. Bloodkeels a good craft, she's my old ship, I'll take 'er. The other cap'ns I'll appoint from the crewbeasts, but I'll be the boss cap'n, and they'll take their orders from me when we're at sea. You'll control all on land. This is the way it'll work. I'll increase the tribute each ship 'as to pay, and we'll split it two ways, me 'n' you, an' none the wiser. Of course you'll 'ave t'get off'n those timber stocks yore sittin' on. There ain't no more good wood on Sampetra an' the ship'll need wood fer repairs. Agreed?"

Ublaz spat on his paw and held it forth. "Agreed!"

Rasconza also spat on his paw and clasped with the pine marten. "Haharr, you won't regret this day's work, matey!"

Behind the gauzy silk scarf the mad eyes glinted dangerously. "I'm sure I won't... matey!"

Then, removing the scarf, Ublaz stood and hailed his guard. "Nobeast will harm the crews. They can return to the harbor and use the taverns or board their ships as they please. You are not to fight with them; there is a truce. If you have any complaints against them, report to Rasconza, he is their leader. Disobey and you will answer to me. I am your Emperor, Ublaz. I have spoken!"

Late that evening the vermin crews roistered and sang in the harbor area of Sampetra. Only the fox Rasconza sat alone, brooding in the captain's cabin aboard Bloodkeel. Once he had been a mere bosun on this same vessel, now he was Captain in Chief of six ships. But a nagging thought had entered his mind as he went back over the day's events. It had all been too simple, Ublaz had agreed to his terms too readily ... Why?

Ublaz sat upon his throne sipping wine, satisfied that he had defeated seven enemies in short time. Now he had only the fox to contend with. Easy game! The Emperor liked easy games, though he often cheated to win.

Martin and his friends had taken to the ditch, following Skipper as he tracked Lask Frildur and his company through Mossflower. The otter Chieftain halted and cast about looking for a sign, saying, "Well, mates, ole Lask's learnin' a bit o' sense. See here, they've tried to cover their trackslook, pawmarks. I reckon this is where they've climbed out o' the ditch an' prob'ly 'eaded west o'er yon field into the woods."

Martin inspected the scratchmarks carefully. "I think you're right, Skip. Once in the woods they'd find the river and follow it to the sea."

With a leap and a bound, Clecky was out of the ditch into the field. "C'mon, chaps, after the scurvy bounders, wot!"

A slingstone whizzed out of nowhere, bouncing close to the hare's footpaw. He jumped back into the ditch with great alacrity. "Ambush, chaps! Blinkin' nerve of the bottle-nosed blighters!"

The Warriormouse peered over the ditchtop, across the sunlit field, still sparkling with dew, to the shaded woodland fringe. There was no visible movement anywhere. "As you said, Skip, the lizard is learning sense. He's left a rearguard behind to slow us up. They're in the woods somewhere, too well hidden for us to see."

Gerul provided a swift solution to the problem. "With yer permission, sir, I'll fly meself up high an' see if I can't spot the ould vermin."

Before Martin could agree, the barn owl winged out over the field. As Gerul swooped low towards the trees he was struck by a heavy slingstone; he fell in a jumble of feathers. Immediately three gulls came screeching out of the tree cover and attacked Gerul as he lay dazed upon the ground.

Regardless of their own safety, Martin, Skipper and Clecky charged from the ditch, roaring.

“ Redwaaaaaalllll!''

A Monitor and four searats loosed slingstones at them as they ran. The three friends separated, ducking and dodging, but still going forward. A well-hurled javelin from Skipper took one of the gulls out, then, with only his loaded sling, the otter Chieftain made a mad dash and flung himself upon the Monitor. Before the searats could come to the lizard's aid, Martin was among them with his sword. Clecky dropped his bow and arrows and, diving at the remaining two seagulls, he lashed out fiercely with his lethal long legs, protecting the fallen owl with his body.

The encounter was short and savage, with Martin and his friends emerging victorious, though one of the searats and a seagull escaped and fled off into the woodlands. But winning had its price. Gerul had been severely injured by the slingstone and the ravaging beaks of the gulls. Clecky made him comfortable whilst Martin attended to Skipper.

The otter had slain the carnivorous reptile with only a loaded sling and his natural strength. Skipper sat gasping, his back against a sycamore. Martin was horrified at the awful wounds inflicted by the Monitor's teeth and raking claws.

The otter winced as he grinned broadly, making a joke of the whole thing. "Uuuuhh! I don't think I could manage t'fight another one of those rascals today, mate!"

Martin tore his cloak into strips, calling to Clecky, "How is Gerul, is he all right?"

The barn owl flapped a wing limply. "Arr, I'll live, sir, though me ould wing is as much use as feathers on a fish, so 'tis."

Clecky was using the last of Genii's sanicle on his friend's wounds. "Be still, you boulder-beaked curmudgeon. Here, put y'talon on this while I bandage it, you great feather-faced frump. Got y'self in a nice old mess, m'laddo, haven't you, wot!"

When the two casualties were cleaned up and bandagea, Martin looked at them despairingly. "You two aren't fit to carry on. We'll have to get you back to Redwall and some proper nursing."

Skipper struggled upright, glaring fiercely at his friend. "Oh no you won't, matey. Yore job is to get the Abbot an' that liddle bankvole free. As fer me an' this bird, we can make our own way back t'the Abbey, can't we, matey?"

Gerul wobbled his way over to Skipper, and they stood supporting each other.

"Sure will y'look at the pair of us now. Between us we make an owlotter, whatever that is. But don't you worry, sir, as me ould mother used t'say, the road may be long but it doesn't get any shorter by standin' gossipin', so we're off to Redwall now. Look after me friend Clecky an' treat him kindly, but don't turn yer back on him if there's food about, oh no, sir!"

The hare sniffed. "Thank you for those few kind words, you feather-bottomed old fraud. See you back at the jolly old Abbey in a few days, wot!"

Martin could not suppress a smile as the two casualties staggered off across the field wing in paw, chattering animatedly as they hobbled along together.

"Ouch! I think I'm goin' to need great pots of soup an' lots of elderberry wine afore I'm right again, Gerul!"

"Isn't that a fact, sir. An' as for meself I think pasties an' puddens with a barrel or two of the good October ale will put the sheen back upon me feathers, indeed, so they will!"

Clecky twitched his ears fondly, waving good-bye to his companion. "Huh! D'y'know, I'd swear that chap's fakin'. Got himself wounded just so's he can fill his face at Redwall an' not share any of it with me. Typical of the blighter!"

Martin gave the hare's tunic a sharp tug. "Remember what Genii's old mother used to say, the road may be long, but it doesn't get any shorter by standing gossiping. Come on, let's get after Lask Frildur!"

Chapter 22

Twilight was falling over the sea, and red sunrays cast a fiery path across the ebbing tide off the coast of Mossflower country. Aboard Waveworm the ferret Romsca leaned over the stern, scanning the darkening shore in company with her steersrat Bladetail.

"Where in the name o' gutrubbin's 'ave those seagulls got to?" she grumbled. "I only told 'em to fly back an' see if Lask was on 'is way."

Bladetail spat reflectively into the water. "May'ap ole Lask kept them with 'im for some purpose."

He turned and cast a glance towards the two prisoners huddled together on a heap of sailsheet amidships. "Those Monitors are pesterin' yer liddle vole agin, Cap'n."

Viola hid her face against the Abbot's robe, shaking with fear as a Monitor poked his evil head close to her, grinning and grinding his teeth, enjoying the volemaid's distress. "Tazty vole, you will tazte nizzzze!"

Against her instincts, Romsca had found herself feeling protective towards Viola and the Abbot. She had spent the whole day keeping the lizards from tormenting the captives, and suddenly her temper rose. Whipping out her sword, she strode up on the unsuspecting Monitor and kicked him sprawling. Belaboring the reptile with the flat of her blade, Romsca snarled, "Keep yer foul-smellin' snout away from the maid, scale-scum!"

The Monitor scrambled upright, teeth bared, claws raised defiantly. "I do az I pleaze, ferret. Lazk Frildur givez me my orderz!" He made as if to push Romsca out of the way, but the corsair moved with lightning speed, bulling the Monitor backward to the rail.

"Well, 'ere's an order from me, scalebrain," she snarled. "Die!" With a swift thrust she ran him through and tipped him overboard. Then she whirled on the other Monitors, pointing her sword. "That goes fer the rest of you thick'eaded lizards! Stay away from the maid or y'll join yer mate there!"

Abbot Durral whispered softly to Viola, "Romsca is not totally against us. We may have a friend."

For a moment it looked as if the remaining Monitors were about to rush Romsca, but a sharp whistle from Bladetail brought the rest of the vermin crew on deck, fully armed. The corsair captain grinned invitingly at the lizards.

"Come on, yer beauties, want to try yer luck with us, do yer?" she baited them. "I'll have yer guts fer garters an' yer tripes fer supper!"

"Ahoy, Waveworm, throw us a line! We're comin' aboard!"

Bladetail saw the group standing in the shallows. "It's Lask Frildur an' the others at last!"

Shivering from the water, Lask pulled himself on board Waveworm. He glared at Romsca, demanding, "Whatz going on, why is a Monitor dead in the waterz?"

The ferret turned her bladepoint towards the Monitor General. "I slew 'im fer interferin' with the prisoners. I'm cap'n aboard this ship. You took yer time gettinerewot kept yer?"

Lask pointed back to the shore. "Creaturez from Redwall are after uz. I left five and the three gullz to hold them off. I do not know how many they are!"

Romsca snapped orders to her crew. "Up anchor an' let 'er drift further offshore fer safety. See, Lask, I told yer those Redwallers were fighters."

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

Grath Longfletch crouched low in her longboat, watching Waveworm from a distance. It was drifting from its original mooring, further out to sea. A long shout like a warcry rang out from the shore.

"Eulaliaaaaaa!"

In the falling light, Grath saw the steersrat Bladetail topple over the stern, pierced by an arrow from the shore. A stoat leapt up on the stern, whirling a slingshot to retaliate. Grath decided to help out. Grabbing her bow, she placed a shaft on the string and whipped it back.

Lask watched in surprise as an arrow seemed to grow out of the stoat's skull. Pandemonium broke out aboard Waveworm as the vermin staggered backward and fell to the deck. Lask Frildur dashed into his cabin and slammed the door, and the other Monitors ran for cover.

Slashing the air with her blade, Romsca roared out orders. "Take 'er out deeper where arrers can't reach! Make some sail that'll move us along faster! Break out some boat'ooks an' long-pikes in case they tries t'board us! Stir yer stumps!"

Abbot Durral acted then. Lifting Viola, he shuffled to the rail and threw her over the side, shouting, "Swim, little one, make for the shore!"

A searat grabbed the Abbot; throwing a noosed rope over him, he bound the old mouse's paws to his side, then he dragged him to the mast where he made the rope fast.

Romsca dashed to the rail, shouting, "Get the maid out o' the water, look lively!"

A searat ran halfheartedly to the rail with a rope; he screamed and fell wounded by a green-feathered arrow, yelling, "Longboat t'the port side 'eadin' this way!"

Grath Longfletch laid aside her weapon, racing toward the small figure floundering in the water as the outgoing tide carried it seaward. Gripping the little tiller tight the otter sent her craft skimming between the waves. Viola was pulled by the current; she swallowed seawater, scrabbling at Waveworm's prow as she drifted in front of it, blinded by stinging salt water.

Grath was close enough to see now. It was either a mouse or a voleno searat this. Risking everything on a desperate gamble, the otter lashed the tiller to her stern seat with the aft line. She saw the enormous prow of Waveworm looming up, but regardless of danger she grabbed the volemaid's apronback with both paws and pulled her clear of the advancing ship's bow.

Bump! Craaaack!

Waveworm caught the longboat, ramming it amidships and turning the small craft momentarily over on its side. Grath was in the sea, with Viola clinging to her. Striking away from the ship, she shouted, "Take a good deep breath an' hold on t'me!"

Swimming as only a powerful grown otter can, Grath Longfletch dived and turned underwater, streaking away from Waveworm towards the shore. Viola bankvole closed both eyes and held her breath, dark water rushing past her as the otter sped them both out of danger. Then panic overtook Viola, the breath ran from her in a stream of bubbles and she began swallowing water.

The next thing she knew a paw was patting her back as Clecky spoke to her in a reassuring voice. "Dearie me, missie, fancy tryin' to swallow all the sea in one go! C'mon, give it back, cough it all up now, you'll be fine!"

Between coughs and spurts of seawater Viola could see her rescuer introducing herself to Martin.

Waveworm was now well out of reach. Grath crouched in the lee of some rocks with Martin, Clecky and Viola.

The Warriormouse watched the corsair vessel, saying, "Let's hope she's dropped anchor there, maybe tomorrow we'll be able to do something about Abbot Durral."

Clecky left off patting Viola's back. "I think we're on a loser at the moment, old chap, they're holdin' all the acorns in this little game, wot! Now if we had a ship ..."

"Stay here, I'll see what's happened to my boat!" Grath said, and she was off, running down the beach and disappearing into the sea.

Clecky shrugged and raised an eyebrow at Martin. "Odd sort o' gel that'n, fights like mad t'get ashore, then runs straight back into the bally water?"

Chapter 23

At the edge of Redwall Abbey pond the punt had been hauled out of the water and dragged around to the sandy shallows. Glenner the otter explained her plan to the four friends.

"Y'know wot they always say about the simplest plans, mates? They're the best 'uns. We stand this punt up on its side first. Well, come on, lend a paw there. I can't do it alone!"

It was an old flat-bottomed craft and quite heavy. They stood paw deep, grunting and gasping as they tried to lift the punt clear of the water. Auma the badger Mother was out for a stroll around the grounds with three Dibbuns, the molebabes Gurrbowl and Diggum and the little squirrel Arven. They wandered across to the pond.

Auma watched the curious proceedings, then enquired, "I don't know what you're up to, Rollo, but d'you need any help?"

Placing both paws on his back, the old Recorder straightened up. "Ooh, my aching bones! We'd be extremely grateful if you'd help us to stand this punt on its side in the shallows."

Little Arven rolled his smock sleeves up briskly. "Stanna side, Roily, we do it easy. Cummon, moles, we showem 'ow to lifta boat, us on'y likkle but we's horful strongly!"

As the three Dibbuns charged into the shallows, Auma scooped them neatly up in her huge paws and set them back on the bank. "Keep an eye on these rogues, Tansy. Everybeast stand clear now!"

Then the big badger set the punt on its side with a single powerful heave. "There, is that what you wanted? What do you expect to do with the boat in this position?''

Glenner picked up the long punting pole. "There's one o' them pink pearls somewhere on the pond bottom, marm, but there's also a big ole female grayling. So I'm goin' to dive down there an' chase 'er into the shallows with this pole. The plan is to drop the punt upside down on 'er, so the fish'll be trapped, then I can search for the pearl without that big ole grayling botherin' me. You'll all need t'stand on the boat; yore weight will stop the fish escapin'. It should work."

At the mention of a big fish, the Dibbuns became excited. They danced about on the bank squealing and shouting.

"Hurrhurr, oi'll swim down with ee an' chase ee gurt fish-erbeast!"

"H'an' I bite its tail off. Chomp! Like dat wi' my big sharp teefs!"

"Burr aye, an' oi'll sit unner ee boat anold ee gurt fishbeast 'ard an' toight, so ee don't 'urt you'm creeturs!"

Auma shook a warning paw at them. "You'll stay with me and keep tight hold of my paws or I'll tan your tails and send you off to bed!"

All the helpers were huddled behind the boat. Auma poked her head around the side and called to Glenner, who was wading through the reeds at the pond's far edge, "We're all ready here, down you go, Glenner. Be careful!"

The otter submerged into the crystal-clear water, holding the pole like a lance in front of her. The female grayling lurked in the boulders at the deep center of the pond, unwilling to move away from the skeletal remains of her long-dead mate. Glenner tapped her gently on the head with the pole, but she refused to budge. However, a second tap brought the big fish's dorsal fin upright, and she became aggressive. Like a flash she charged, but the otter fended her off skillfully, tapping away sharply with the butt end of the pole and bumping the grayling on her head, sides and tail until she ceased her attack and turned in retreat. Glenner was right after her, urging her along, shepherding her with the punting pole.

Auma peered around the side of the punt. "Here she comes, get ready now, when I say push ..."

Tansy took a quick peek; the big female grayling made a brave sight. Wriggling backward into the shallows the great purply-sheened body bucked and quivered as it snapped and fought the teasing pole. The high, long-based dorsal fin stood clear of the water like a spined streamer; iridescent scales flashed in the sunlight, splashing water left and right.

"Now push!!!" Auma shouted.

The punt hit the water with a flat thwack, landing over the fish like a huge mouth closing. Caught up in the excitement of the moment, Rollo hitched up his habit and roared, "Jump on top! Jump on top! Quick, everybeast on top!"

They scrambled on top of the upturned punt, their combined weight causing it to bed firmly into the sand of the shallows.

Sudden imprisonment made the big female fish go berserk. She leaped and bucked, whacking the bottom and sides of the punt furiously, throwing herself wildly in all directions.

Tansy clung to Rollo, Piknim clung to Craklyn, and all four then clung to the most solid beast around, Auma. The badger Mother had her paws full trying to keep hold of the Dibbuns, who chortled helplessly, wriggling and skipping across the bottom of the punt as if it were all a wonderful game. Under the grayling's onslaught the punt shuddered and quivered.

Tansy was amazed at the mad strength of a single fish. She stood swaying on the thrumming timbers, holding Arven's paw tightly, and said, "If Glenner doesn't hurry up, the grayling's going to wreck this punt and send us all into the water!"

Auma eyed the upturned punt bottom doubtfully. "It's a big, powerful fish, right enough. These old timbers aren't going to last very long if it carries on the way it's going."

"Ahoy, mates, let loose the ole fish!"

Glenner stood in the reedy shallows at the far side waving to them. En masse they leapt off and hurried up onto the bank. Auma went wading back in and lifted the punt slightly. With a whooshing rush of water the grayling shot out and was lost in a sandy swirl. She made straight for the safety of the boulders at the pond bottom, reunited with the frame of her dead partner.

Glittering wetly, the rose-colored pearl caught the afternoon sunlight as Glenner tossed it high in the air, catching it deftly as it fell.

"Don't throw it about like that," Rollo called sternly. "It's not a plaything, Glenner. Bring it here this instant and don't drop it!"

The otter popped the pearl into her mouth. "Wharr marr panna sowp?" she said around it.

Auma looked at Tansy and shrugged. "What's the beast talking about?"

Glenner dropped the pearl from her mouth into Tansy's waiting paws. "I said, where's my pan o' soup?"

Piknim pounded the otter's back happily. "You'll get your pan of soup, you old water-walloper. Well done!"

Arven picked up a small round pebble and gave it to Piknim. "Me 'ave soop too!" he said.

"Where exactly did you find the pearl, Glenner?" asked Tansy.

Glenner sat down on the mossy bank, shaking her head sadly. "You'll never believe it, matey, but it was that pearl wot killed the ole grayling. It was stuck in the bones where 'is throat once was."

The hedgehog maid stared at the beautiful orb resting in her paw. "So that was it. Fermald must have tossed this pearl into the pond and Grimjaw thought it was food and tried to swallow it, but the pearl lodged in his throat and choked him. I don't suppose that was what Fermald meant to do, but unwittingly she killed Grimjaw. Dearie me, she finally did defeat her old foe!"

Rollo sat down beside Tansy. "Cheer up, missie, at least we've got the pearl. Don't look so unhappy, the greedy old fish slew himself, really."

Tansy continued staring at the pearl, and said, "It's not the fish I'm unhappy about, Rollo. I was just recalling the line of Fermald's poem which says, patience pays but once this time. This pearl is the one payment; we've got no piece of paper with clues to lead us on to the fourth pearl. What do we do next?"

Diggum the molebabe's reasoning was simple. "Do now? Us'ns make ee gurt pot o' soop furr ee otter, marm!"

Rollo patted the little creature's velvety head. "A capital idea, my friend; a good feed will help us all to think a little more clearly!"

Tansy was not convinced, however. She wandered glumly back across the tranquil lawns towards the Abbey. However, the irrepressible Piknim and Craklyn could not endure their companion's long face, and they danced around her, singing to lighten her mood.

"Pick me flowers for Redwall,

To grace the tables of Great Hall,

Go out upon the grassy ground,

Where flowers bloom all round.

Periwinkle primrose pimpernel,

Buttercup burnet and bluebell,

Arrowhead anemone asphodel,

Tansy's a flower as well!

Campion cowslip columbine,

Speedwell spurge and snowdrop fine,

Toadflax thrift and also thyme,

But pretty Tansy's mine! .

Foxglove figwort feverfew,

Harebell hemlock hawkweed too,

Forget-me-nots with petals blue,

Sweet Tansy, I'll pick you!"

Arven plucked a buttercup, and made Tansy bend so he could place it behind her ear. Then the little squirrel leapt onto her back and sang raucously the only part of the song he could remember: "Swee' Tansy I pick yoooooooou!"

The hedgehog maid could not stay gloomy in such company. She seized Arven and tickled him soundly. "You little maggot, roaring down my poor ear like that, you've deafened me!"

Arven shrieked with helpless laughter, trying to wriggle free of the tickling paws. "Yeeheehee, lemme go, heeheeheehee. Tansy not tickle me yeeheehee!"

Tansy continued tickling, pretending Arven really had deafened her. "Eh, what's that? Speak up, sir, I can't hear you?"

Trooping into Cavern Hole, they made themselves comfortable. Friar Higgle strode in behind them, swinging a ladle, his face a picture of mock severity.

"Somebeast needin' a pot o' watershrimp'notroot soup?" he said.

Glenner held up her paw hopefully. "Aye, me, sir, I was promised the soup by"

The good Friar cut her short. "Well, I don't know nothin' about any promises, streamdog!"

Higgle watched Glenner's face fall mournfully and smiled. A rap on the table from his ladle brought Teasel in. Pulling a serving trolley up to the table, she indicated the bubbling pot. "A little bird tol' us you might be needin' this."

The soup was so hot and spicy that only Glenner continued to refill her bowl; otters are known to be very partial to water-shrimp and hotroot soup. The rest were well contented to cool their mouths with strawberry cordial and do full justice to a plum and apple crumble, supplemented by a large platter of redcurrant tarts, which Teasel had baked for them.

Tansy brought the scallop shell case out and placed the third pearl in it, alongside the other two that had been found. Auma held the open shell up so that it caught the candlelight, and admired the three rosy orbs.

"The Tears of all Oceans," mused Rollo. "Beautiful, are they not? But without the other three, they are quite useless. If we are to bargain for our Abbot and Viola all six are needed. Though I would give ten times that amount to have our friends back here safe."

Auma closed the shell and fastened its clasp firmly. "Aye, what price treasures when Redwallers are in danger? I dread to think of Martin and our friends out somewhere risking their lives against evil beasts. I wish there was something we could do to help them."

Tansy placed the shell in its bag and fastened the bag to her apron strings. "That's what's making me feel so bad, Auma. There are no more clues to the other three pearls. It would help them if we could find even the tiniest hint to set us on the trail again."

Rollo settled himself wearily upon a wall-ledge. "I think it's time to stop talking and start thinking."

After the activity at the pond and the good food following, heads began to nod and eyelids started drooping in the warmth and quiet of Cavern Hole. First Rollo, followed by Auma and Glenner, then Tansy and the other two young maids Piknim and Craklyn. Little Arven would have drifted into sleep, but his head bumped the table as he leaned forward. Cramming tiny paws into his eyes he rubbed them until he was wide awake.

The two molebabes Diggum and Gurrbowl were snuggled down on a rush mat. Arven woke them and, smiling mischievously, he pushed and pulled the dozy pair up the stairs into Great Hall. Tweaking the molebabes' snouts none too gently, Arven roused them into full alertness. "Cummon!" he whispered fiercely. "Alla big 'uns sleepydozin', we got 'portant work!"

Gurrbowl blinked owlishly and sat on his fat little tail. "Nothin' be as apportant as sleepen to a growen choild!"

Diggum, who had entered heartily into the conspiracy, pulled Gurrbowl upright, wagging a small digging claw at him. "You'm nought but a gurt foozletop mole. Wot ee be wantin' us'ns t'do, zurr h'Arven?"

"We goin' a find the uvver free pearls f'Tansy!"

"Ho urr, gudd idea, whurr do ee think purrls be 'idden?"

"Gah! You a maggit, Gurrb'l, 'ow I knows where pearls be?"

"Burr, you'm doan't knoaw? Then whurr do us'ns start lukkin'?"

Arven thought about this for a moment, narrowing his eyes and whipping his bushy tail back and forth, then suddenly he brightened. "Uppa stairs, where nobeast find us, tha's where!"

Giggling and pulling at one another's tunics, the three Dibbuns clambered up the dormitory steps, pushing and shoving to be first to the top. It was a good game, and what if a search did turn out to be a game? It was all good fun to the three Abbeybabes.

Tansy turned over, pulling her cape around her. Through the foggy haze of sleep's corridor, she recognized the heroic figure looming towards her. It could be none other than Martin the Warrior of ancient times. His smile radiated tranquility; his voice was warm as a far-off bell on summer noontide.

"You are troubled, little one?"

The hedgehog maid sighed deeply in her sleep. “I must find the next clue if I am to continue my search for the pearls, but I don't know where to begin looking."

Martin's lips never appeared to move, though his voice echoed around Tansy's mind. "Find the three babes and you will know ..." The vision faded and Tansy slept peacefully on.

Craklyn was wakened by an odd sound.

"Shhlpp, shhlpp, shhlpp!"

The funny noise continued with monotonous regularity. Craklyn opened her eyes and sat up slowly.

Glenner withdrew her head from the soup pot, licking her whiskers and chin. "Nought like 'otroot soup, matey, tastes just as good cold as it does warm. I'd eat it any time, night or day!"

Gradually the rest of the company awoke. Auma stretched mightily. "Oooooh! What time is it? A fine bunch we are, lying about napping like a pile of Dibbuns!"

The word set a train of thought going in Tansy's mind. "Dibbuns! Where are Diggum, Gurrbowl and Arven?"

She jumped up and began searching Cavern Hole.

Glenner licked the last soup drops from her chin as she watched Tansy. "What's the panic? Dibbuns can't leave the Abbey, they're prob'ly playin' somewheres close by."

The hedgehog maid checked under the table. "I saw Martin the Ancient Warn or in my dreams. He told me to look for the three babes and I would know!"

Auma peered into an empty barrel standing in a corner. "What would you know?" she said.

Tansy strode resolutely for the steps leading to Great Hall. "Where the clue to the next pearl is, of course. Come on, we've got to find those Dibbuns!"

Chapter 24

Rasconza called the two searats Baltur and Gancho to his ship, and the three of them leaned over the stern rail, speaking in low murmurs. The fox looked across the sunlit harbor, up to the palace of Ublaz. He knew the mad-eyed Emperor was probably having them watched.

Rasconza kept his face straight and his voice level. "I don't like it, mates. Ublaz gave in too easy, that's not like 'im. I tell yer, that'n's a dangerous beast."

Baltur glanced sideways at Rasconza. "So, what're yer goin' t'do about it?"

"Well, I ain't 'angin' about in this 'arbor waitin' fer Ublaz t'make 'is move, so 'ere's me plan. I says we sail away from Sampetra tonight on the floodtide, an' once we're shut o' this place we don't come back!"

Gancho drummed a paw nervously on the rail. "But Ublaz will see us if'n we all pulls anchor an' sails at once. It's too risky, 'e'll 'ave laid plans t'stop us!"

The fox shrugged. "That's a chance we'll 'ave t'take, mates. The best bet is to let the crews know secretly, pass the word about quietlike. I'm appointin' both of you cap'ns, you'll get yer own ships. We'll wait until dark, then at my signalslip off, ship by ship. Are yer with me, mates?''

The two searats nodded, fired by their sudden promotions to captaincy. Baltur spoke for them both. "We're with yer, Rasconza, give us our orders!"

Word passed among the wave vermin lounging around the taverns and harbor of Sampetra.

"Keep it under yer 'at, messmate, Rasconza sez we're sailin' tonight when it's dark."

"Sailin' t'night? Wot, y'mean all of us?"

"Keep yer voice down, bucko, you just pass it on nice an' easy, everybeast t'be back aboard their ole ships by sunset!"

Gradually the whole quay area was rife with whispered messages being passed from one to another. In the late afternoon a grizzled searat with a patch on one eye and a rusty cutlass at his side stumped out of a tavern. He left the area as soon as he was sure nobeast was watching.

Two Monitors ushered the searat into the Emperor's throne room. Ublaz watched as the searat cast aside his disguise and picked up his trident.

"Tell me what you heard, are they planning to attack, or run?"

The Trident-rat stood rigid as the pine marten's eyes blazed into his brain. Then he told all he had heard.

Afternoon shadows were lengthening into the hour before twilight as Ublaz headed a powerful force of Monitors and Trident-rats to the jetty. Rasconza stood amidships on his vessel, in company with Baltur. The searat watched Ublaz approaching, and his paws began quivering.

"It's the Emperor, 'e knows wot we're up to!"

Rasconza smiled, showing no sign of alarm. He dug his claws sharply into Baltur's side. "Shut yer gob, rat, an' stop flappin', I'll see t'this."

The pine marten cut a handsome figure, clad in gold silks topped by a white turban set with a feather and greenstone jewel. He appeared to be unarmed. Ublaz smiled, greeting Rasconza pleasantly.

"So, how is my Chief Captain today? Everything shipshape?"

Rasconza matched the Emperor's smile and manner immediately. "Never better, yore Mightiness, an' pray, wot brings yer to our 'umble ship on this fine day?"

Ublaz whipped out the green silken gauze the fox had given him. He winked at Rasconza before binding it lightly around his eyes. "Hah! Nearly forgot my manners there. You've probably heard that I hypnotized a poisonous water serpentI've got to be careful of these magic eyes of mine. Don't want to go putting any spells on my trusted Chief Captain, now do I?"

Rasconza felt a shudder pass through him. Instinctively his paw roamed to the silver dagger Ublaz had given him. “Thank ye, Sire, but I'm sure y' never came all the way down 'ere to tell me that. Just wot do yer want?"

Ublaz stooped, looking at the stern of the vessel at water level. "Nothing really, I merely thought it was about time I started making good my promises to you. I presume that now would be a good time to start overhauling our fleet. My carpenters will do the work. We'll start by replacing all your tillers and rudders. I've got fine stout timber to make new ones."

Still smiling, but fuming inwardly, Rasconza was forced to stand helplessly by as Trident-rats and Monitors swarmed over his ship, removing the tiller and rudder, rendering the vessel useless.

When the other vessels had been similarly treated, Ublaz had six Trident-rats line up on the jetty in front of Rasconza. He pointed them out one by one.

"Galdra, Fentz, Orlug, Kerrat, Somgil and Criuth. These are your six new captains, all trustworthy creatures. Bow to your Chief!"

The six Trident-rats bowed respectfully to Rasconza.

The fox nodded formally to them, doing a quick mental calculation. "Six, you say? But we only 'ave six ships," he said.

Ublaz smiled winningly at his adversary. "Ah yes, but you command them all. Soon they'll be good as new, and when we've replaced the tillers and rudders, we'll see about new masts for our fleet. I bid you good day, my Chief Captain!"

Ublaz removed the green gauze from his eyes and turned to go.

Baltur began arguing with Rasconza. "I thought you made me an' Gancho cap'ns? Wot right does Mad Eyes 'ave puttinis own cap'ns in our place?"

Ublaz wheeled about, fixing the searat with a piercing stare. "You there, what is your name?"

Baltur appeared dumbfounded for a moment, unable to tear his eyes from the gaze of Ublaz. "I'm called Baltur," he said.

"And how long have you been a searat, Baltur?"

"Long as I can remember, Sire."

"So, you like the sea, eh?"

"I likes it well enough, Sire."

Ublaz chuckled, both eyes boring into the hapless vermin. "Good, then perhaps you would like to try a swim now."

The brief interview was at an end. Ublaz turned and strode away, followed by his army, several of whom were lugging the tillers and rudders of the ships with them. Behind him there was a splash as Baltur threw himself into the sea.

Rasconza watched two corsairs pull the spluttering Baltur up onto the jetty and signaled to one of the new Trident-rat captains. "You there, Orlug is it? Step aboard, mate, this'll be yore ship from now on, I'll show yer round."

That evening, just after sunset, Sagitar entered the Emperor's throne room and placed a sword down in front of Ublaz.

The pine marten glanced at the stained blade. "What is this thing and why do you bring it here?"

Sagitar measured her words carefully. "Mightiness, I was leading the evening harbor patrol when the fox Rasconza gave this to me and bade me bring it to you. He said to tell you that one of your new captains, Orlug, was given the sword by him, in honor of your appointing Orlug captain. But unfortunately Orlug was unused to wearing a sword, and he tripped and fell upon the blade, slaying himself. Rasconza says that you have no need to appoint another captain, he will be master of his own ship. Those were his words, Sire."

Much to the astonishment of Sagitar, the Emperor burst into gales of hearty laughter. The Trident-rat stood at attention until her master's merriment subsided. Ublaz wiped his eyes on a sateen kerchief and took several deep breaths. "Go back to the harbor, tell Rasconza I send him my compliments. Oh, and say also that there has been a little mishap on my part, not quite as serious as the loss of a captain. Unfortunately my clumsy Monitors dropped the tillers and rudders and they are all broken. Without them to use as patterns it will take considerably longer to make new ones, but I will tell my carpenters to do their best. Go now!"

Long after midnight Rasconza sat in his cabin, sharing a flask of seaweed grog with Baltur and Gancho. The fox had just finished telling them of his latest encounter with Sagitar, messenger of the Emperor.

Gancho hurled his beaker at the bulkhead and pounded the table. "First 'e cripples our vessels, then 'e destroys all the rudders an' tillers. Ublaz's got us like fish in a barrel, rot 'is eyes!"

Rasconza poured a fresh beaker for the irate searat. "No 'e ain't, I told ole Sagitar to take this message back to 'im. I've still got five of those new cap'ns safe with us 'ere, so I 'ope that we'll 'ave new tillers V rudders within five days. Five cap'ns an' five days; maybe they're all as clumsy as that rat Orlug. Who knows, somethin' awful might 'appen to each of 'em, one a day, an' we don't want that to 'appen, do we? 'Cos then I'd 'ave t'give you buckoes yer jobs back as ship's mastersyou two, an' three others."

Rasconza clinked beakers with Baltur and Gancho, their roaring laughter ringing out across the dark floodtide.

Rasconza was sure that he had won the next round in the murderous game.

Chapter 25

Martin crouched with Clecky and Viola behind a small outcrop of rocks on the shoreline. It was the hour before dawn, still and calm. All activity aboard Waveworm seemed to have ceased; she rode smoothly at anchor, too far out to be reached by bowshot.

Clecky's keen eyes picked up movement further along the beach at the water's edge. "I say, there's our otter chum, pullin' an' haulin' on her boat. It looks in jolly bad shape if y'ask me, wot!"

Martin turned to Viola, who was shivering fitfully after her ordeal in the sea. "Stay here, little one. Clecky and I are going to help the otter to beach her boat. If any danger threatens while we're away, leave these rocks and hide in the woodlands, d'you understand?''

The volemaid's teeth were chattering so hard she could only nod.

Stooping low, Martin and Clecky hurried along the tideline, all the time keeping a weather eye on Waveworm. Grath Longfletch was glad of their help, and among them the three creatures hauled the longboat across the shore, back to the rock cover.

Grath surveyed the damage ruefully, saying, "She's stoved in bad amidships, and there's not a lot I can do without the proper materials to fix her up. I've even lost my provisions in the sea."

Clecky slumped down mournfully next to Viola. "Starvin', wet, cold, tired, wot! I've been in worse places, but I'm blowed if I can remember where they were!"

Martin held up his paw for silence. "Listen!"

Grath had heard the sounds too. She grabbed for her bow and arrows, which had mercifully survived the encounter with Waveworm. "Somebeasts comin' downstream, get your heads down, mates!" Stealthily the otter peered landward, over the rocks into the breaking dawn.

Then she laughed aloud with relief. "Haharr, it's Log a Log an' the Guosim!"

Swift as arrows six logboats were skimming downstream from the woodlands to the shore. When they caught sight of Grath, the shrews whooped gruffly, flinging themselves into the stream shallows and wading ashore with open paws.

Log a Log was first to pound his otter friend's back.

"Grath Longfletch, you ole waterdog!"

"Log a Log, you fiddle streamwalloper!"

"Don't tell me you've wrecked that barnacle-crusted cockleshell again, Grath! Good job we happened along. Hi, Martin! Martin of Redwall!"

The Warriormouse chuckled joyfully as Guosim shrews crowded round, shaking his paws. "Log a Log, old friend. Dabby, Curio, Dimple, what a pleasure it is to see your faces again!"

Clecky pointed to himself and Viola. "Pay no heed to us, chaps, we're only a couple o' butterflies hangin' about waitin' for summer, aren't we, m'dear!"

A fire was built on the sand behind the rocks, and Guosim cooks busied themselves, while shrewmaids outfitted Viola bankvole in one of their smocks. Curio and Dabby got a repair gang together and began straightaway fixing Grath's longboat.

Log a Log sat by the fire with Martin and Clecky, discussing their position. When he heard about the ambush in the ditch, the shrew Chieftain looked thoughtful. “We found a searat wandering lost upstream," he said. "My mates have got him under guard over there. I wonder if he can tell us where they're planning to take your Abbot? Ahoy, mates, bring that vermin over t'me!"

Bound and gagged, a dispirited searat was hauled up in front of the shrew Chieftain.

Martin recognized him instantly. "That's the villain who escaped after ambushing us. We slew the rest of them, but this one got away."

Grath Longfletch strode up. Borrowing a knife from one of the cooks, she cut the searat's gag and the rope that bound his paws. Then, notching a green-feathered shaft to her great bow, Grath nodded meaningly at the terrified searat.

"Get running!" she snarled.

The searat took one look at the grim-faced otter and her lethal weapon and fell down on all fours, pleading and sobbing. "Yer gonna kill me, I know y'are. Mercy, I beg yer!"

Grath seized the creature roughly, hauling him upright, "I'm givin' you a chance, scum, that's more'n you did for my family when you murdered 'em! I'm Grath Longfletch, last of the Holt of Lutra; remember it. Now run!"

Martin placed himself between Grath and the searat, saying, "You can't kill him, friend, we need him to give us information. He's valuable to us."

Grath's voice trembled as she replied, "I like you, Martin of Redwall, you're a warrior born, but this searat is a coward and a murderer. I'm sworn to avenge my family, so step aside, Martin, I don't want to hurt you!"

"Then you'll 'ave to 'urt us both, matey!" Log a Log stood up alongside Martin and spoke gently to the otter. “Grath, yore lettin' revenge rob you of yore senses. Put aside the bow an' shaft now, there's a goodbeast. Martin's right an' you know it, friend."

Slowly Grath lowered her bow and shot the arrow into the sand between her footpaws. The searat gave a moan of relief. Grath smiled regretfully at the two creatures facing her. "I'm sorry, Martin, you're right. Log a Log, you sound more like my father than any creature I've ever known. Forgive me."

The Warriormouse patted Grath's paw. "There's nothing to forgive, friend, I'd have done the same in your place. Now, how about some breakfast by the fire while we question this wave vermin and make our plans for the day?"

Viola and Clecky sat with the boat repair crew around their fire, watching a pot of pine resin bubbling. The volemaid sipped steaming vegetable and seafood soup from a scallop shell bowl and devoured hot shrewbread in a manner far removed from her former prissy self.

Curio winked at her. "Tastes good, don't it?" she said.

Viola nodded gratefully as the shrew refilled the shell for her. "Almost as good as the taste of freedom. Oh! Poor Abbot Durral, I hope they haven't harmed him. He risked his life to help me escape from that horrible ship and those awful lizards. Do you think there's a chance that we can rescue him?"

Clecky bent his long ears toward the other fire, munching delicious shrewbread as he spoke. "Never give up hope, m'gel, Martin an' ole Log a thing are prob'ly cookin' up a plan right now with that tough-lookin' otter."

Day broke cloudy and gray with a calm sea and little or no breeze. Romsca placed a bowl of some doubtful steaming mess in front of the Abbot.

"Get that skilly down yer, Durral, no sense in starvin' t'death!"

The old mouse peered up at the corsair from where he sat tethered to the mast. The loss of his glasses affected his poor eyesight. "Thank you, my child, and thank you also for the kindness you showed to the little volemaid."

Romsca shook her head and laughed. "I ain't yore child, ole mouse, an' you can't get around me. You shovel those vittles down an' pray t'the fates that yore mates come up with the Emperor's six pearls!"

Further discussion was cut short as Lask Frildur came hurrying out on deck. The ship had drifted sideways, allowing the Monitor General a disturbing view of the shore.

"Have you no eyez in your head, idiot?" he snarled nastily at Romsca. "Look landwardz!"

Romsca was about to argue, but a quick glance to the shore gave the corsair great cause for concern. Small warlike creatures in considerable numbers, all wearing bright headbands and sashes with rapiers, stood boldly in plain view on the beach. Pulled up onto the sandy banks of the stream that flowed to the sea were six dugout treetrunk boats, equipped with paddles and single sails. Nearby on a clump of rocks were three more creatures, a strong-looking mouse with a great sword strapped to his back, a big otter and a lanky hare, both armed with bows and arrows. They were watching a group of the small creatures repairing a ship's longboat by the glow of several small fires.

Romsca shook her head in disbelief at the scene. "Stripe me! Where'd that lot come from?"

Lask Frildur paced the deck, tail swishing and teeth bared. "Who knowz? There are enough of them to take thiz vezzel, and they have boatz. We are no longer zafe anchored here!"

Kicking the bowl of food from the Abbot's paws, the lizard pulled him as close to the rail as the rope tether would allow. "Who are thoze beaztz, mouze? Tell me!"

Durral squinted at the distant shore. "Without my glasses it is difficult to say, though by the bright colors they wear I would guess they are Guosim shrews."

Lask brought his face close to the old mouse. "Warriorz?"

Tucking both paws into his long sleeves, the Abbot turned sideways to avoid the Monitor General's foul breath. "Yes, my son, the Guosim are renowned both on land and water as fierce warriors. Their fighting spirit knows no bounds."

Lask pulled the Abbot roughly to him. "Old fool, I am your enemy, not your zon!"

Gazing calmly into the glittering reptilian eyes, Durral said, "I am an Abbot; nobeast is my enemy. Why do you not let me go free and sail from here in peace?"

Lask shook the frail mouse savagely. "I cannot leave without my Emperor'z pearlz. When I have them then you can go free!"

Romsca interrupted impatiently. "Lissen t'me, mouse, an' save yerself a lot o' grief. The only way yore leavin' this ship is in exchange fer those six pearls. Now who's got 'em?"

The Father Abbot of Redwall shook his head slowly. “Pearls? Pearls? I know nothing of any pearls."

Romsca faced Lask Frildur. "Well, you 'eard 'im. He knows nothing. What are y' goin' to do? Take my word, Lask, wotever it is, you'd best do it quick. Look at that crowd on shore, they're gettin' ready to come out 'ere, an' I'll wager it's not to present us with six pearls. Make yer mind up, lizard: do we stan' an' fight, or cut an' run?''

The shrew Trimp put aside a length of caulking rope and patted the side of Grath's longboat. "That's the best I can do for ye! She's seaworthy agin, but for 'ow long I don't know. Yore pretty rough on boats, matey!"

The otter braced the headrope across her shoulders and began pulling her craft down to the stream. “My thanks to you, Guosim, I hope I can pay you back someday."

Martin and Clecky helped her to launch the longboat at the head of the shrew flotilla. Log a Log put both paws to his mouth and gave a long ululating call, the battlecry of Guosim shrews.

“ Logalogalogalogalooooog!''

Grath hoisted her sail, while Martin and Clecky used the oars to propel the longboat, their three different warshouts joining the shrews paddling behind.

"Redwaaaaaall!"

"Eulaliaaaaaa!"

"Holt Lutraaaaaa!"

The little warfleet sped from the stream estuary into the waves. Each shrew, armed with slingshots and rapier, bent its back to the oars, spreading into a half-circle, with the longboat at its center. Lashing the tiller dead ahead Grath made her way to the prow, notching a shaft to her bow.

She roared out across the sea to the figures on the deck of Waveworm, "Release your prisoner or die!"

Lask Frildur cast a meaningful glance at Romsca. "Sail!" he hissed.

Speed was of the essence. The corsair captain slashed at the anchor line with her sword, bellowing orders to her crew.

"Bring 'er about course west! Make sail, full sail!"

Waveworm turned on the swell as her steersrat brought the tiller hard round. Wetting a paw, Romsca held it aloft, frowning. "We need the breeze, they're comin' up on us fast!"

Lask and his Monitors stood astern, long boathooks and pikes ready should the attackers try to board. The Monitor General looked nervously from the oncoming boats to Romsca. "Where iz the wind, we need wind in the zailz!"

Grath Longfletch knew she was within range now. Drawing her bowstring tight, she aimed at Lask and let loose a shaft. Fortunately for the Monitor General the arrow arrived at the very moment Waveworm hit a stretch of choppy water. It struck the lizard standing to his left; the reptile gurgled, tugged at the shaft sticking from his chest and toppled overboard.

Romsca balanced in the prow, feeling the ship begin to rise and fall. "Haharr," she cried. "The breeze is freshenin', we'll outsail em!"

Martin glanced up from his oar at Grath. "They've got the wind with them now!"

Grath tried another arrow, but it was whipped sideways in flight. "Aye, but so have we, Martin!" she said. Then she dashed amidships and went to work, tightening the lines in their cleats until the single square sail billowed tautly.

Log a Log was yelling and ranting above the howling gusts, "Come on, Guosim, bend yer backs, pull! Pull those oars, buckoes!"

The shrews strove bravely, battling with their heavy logboats and small sails to keep up with Grath's craft. Waves crashed over the sides of the shrewboats, sending water cascading into them as the windforce built the seas high.

Chopping the Abbot's tether rope clear of Waveworm's mast, Lask Frildur dragged the old mouse up to the stern gallery. Securing the rope end to the rail, the lizard pushed his prisoner over, leaving him dangling at the aft end above the waves.

"Let them fire arrowz now if they dare!" he rasped.

Grath Longfletch threw down her bow in disgust. Then she suddenly flung herself flat in the prow as she heard an ominous noise, calling, "Belay, the mast is gone!"

Craaaaack!

The longboat's mast snapped like a twig, unable to withstand further strain from the gale-tightened sail. Martin found himself enveloped in canvas, being dragged along the boat's bottom as the wind began blowing the loose sail. Clecky was laid flat by the broken mast spar. The Warriormouse struggled madly. Tearing himself free, he whipped out his sword and severed the mast ropes with a few swift slashes. Broken mast, sail and cross spar went swishing out across the sea like a runaway beast.

Grath cradled the unconscious hare's head in her paws, a look of despair on her face as she watched Waveworm pull away with the Abbot dangling high astern.

"They've beaten us, Martin. We'll never catch them now!"

The Warriormouse brushed seawater from his eyes as he watched the corsair vessel recede into the watery wastes. "No, they haven't beaten me! Not yet they haven't!"

Log a Log gave orders. Lashed together prow to prow and stern to stern the small flotilla turned and headed for land.

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

Night had fallen; a beacon fire burned bright on the beach. Viola and four other shrews who had been left to guard the searat saw the crews come in to shore. Heads down, panting and gasping for breath, Log a Log and his Guosim shrews staggered up to the fire, followed by Martin and Grath carrying Clecky between them. Saturated by seawater and exhausted from their battle to reach dry land, everybeast flopped wearily around the fire area. Viola and the four shrews hurried about, serving hot vegetable broth and oatcakes as they went.

Late into the night Martin sat at the fire with Log a Log and Grath. The shrew Chieftain fed fresh wood to the flames, and glanced across to where the hare was now sleeping peacefully, wrapped up in old sailcloth.

"That one'll live to eat another day; I never knew a hare that couldn't rise to the sound o' a ladle in a cookpot. So, Martin, yore bound an' determined to follow the corsair ship?"

The Warriormouse watched the flames crackling around a pine log. "That's right, Log a Log. If I have to follow them over the world's edge and it takes me all my life, I'll bring our Abbot back to Redwall Abbey. I swear it on my sword!"

Chapter 26

Like a soft cloak of dark velvet, buttoned and studded with stars, the last night of spring lay soft over the ancient sandstone Abbey of Redwall. Lanterns and torches glimmered and flickered in the grounds like fireflies. Tansy hurried up from the pond to where Auma stood in the open doorway of the Abbey, calling, "No sign of those Dibbuns yet?"

Pulling forth a large red spotted kerchief, the badger Mother dabbed at her tired eyes. "Not a whisker. It's as if they disappeared into thin air. Here's Wullger, maybe he'll have some good news for us."

The otter shook his head as he approached them. "I've tried the gatebar meself, marm, 'tis too high an' far too 'eavy fer Dibbuns to lift. Besides, if they'd left the Abbey, who'd 'ave locked the gate after 'em? You sure those liddle rogues ain't inside anywheres?"

Tansy threw up her paws in despair. "I've searched the Abbey three times, so have Piknim and Craklyn and lots of others. Trouble is, there's so many places three Dibbuns could hide. Ooh, that Arven, if I get my paws on him ..."

Wullger gave a dry chuckle. "Aye, that'n's the ringleader all right. No use gettin' yerself upset, missie, they'll show up soon as they're 'ungry enough. It's my guess they found somewheres snug an' fell asleep, all three of 'em, the rogues!"

Auma nodded her agreement with the gatekeeper. "Wullger's right. Tansy. They're obviously someplace in the Abbey. After they've had a night's sleep, they'll turn up tomorrow for breakfast, you'll see."

A look of horror registered on Tansy's face. "Mother Auma, you're not going to bed, are you?"

The badger shook her head vehemently. "What? Me going to bed while three of my little Dibbuns are missing? I should say not, missie! I haven't had a full night's sleep since Abbot Durral and Viola left. I'll sit on some sacks in the kitchens, dozing with one eye open, mayhap they'll creep in for a stolen snack. I'll be waiting for those villains if they do and I'll make them sorry for the upset they've caused around here, believe me I will!"

Wandering indoors, Tansy made her way to Great Hall. As she passed the tapestry of the ancient warrior, she remembered the dream she'd had when Martin told her that the fourth .clue was where the three babes were hidden. She shook her head worriedly. She was so anxious about the missing Dibbuns that she'd almost forgotten about the pearls. Piknim and Craklyn were still searching fruitlessly around the big room's darker corners.

Rollo was half dozing in the Abbot's chair. He sat up straight as Tansy entered, and asked, "Still no sign of the rogues, eh?"

The hedgehog maid perched wearily on the arm of the chair. "No. I've just searched around the pond again. What are we going to do, Rollo?"

The old Recorder's eyes twinkled slightly. "The only thing we can do, Tansy. Stop thinking like responsible creatures and start thinking like naughty Dibbuns. Imagine you were Arven, Diggum or Gurrbowl, where would you hide if you didn't want anybeast to find you?"

Piknim and Craklyn strolled over to join the conversation.

"Down the cellars maybe?"

"No, little ones would be afraid down there in the dark."

"What about up in the dormitories?"

"But that's the first place we looked, they weren't there."

A sudden thought struck Tansy. "I know we've already looked once in the attics above the dormitories, but perhaps we should take another trip up there. Hardly anybeast has been in the attics since Fermald passed away."

Arven sat miserably with the two molebabes inside a cupboard in Fermald's attic. A lantern light glowed in the enclosed space. Gurrbowl yawned, fighting against sleep.

"Oi wants t'go daown, oi'm gurtly 'ungered an' toired, hurr!"

Arven had found Fermald's old fishing rod in the cupboard, and now he waggled it in the mole's direction. "No no, can't go down, Gurrb'l, not now. Lookit us'ns, we all filfy an' dusty. Wait'll inna mornen, an' I catch tha' bigga fish out the pond an' we cook 'im an' eat 'im all up!"

Diggum inspected her dusty smock sadly. "Bo urr, lackaday, ee badgermum'll 'ave summat t'say when 'er sees oi!"

Arven stuck out his stomach and pulled his little chin in as he did his impression of Auma. "Jus' looka you, straight inna baff, you mucky maggits, great seasings! Where you 'ave been? Straight inna bed an' no suppers, tha' teaches you naughty Dibbins t'be more good inna foocher!"

The molebabes laughed at the tiny squirrel's antics. Then Gurrbowl did his imitation of Sister Cicely. "You'm never knowed wurr you'm been, oi give ee gurt bowls o' warm nettil zoop, that'll make ee be'ave thoiselfs!"

Diggum held one paw to her stomach and the other to her mouth. "Bwuuuurk! Tumble stuff ee warm nettil zoop be. Gruuurgh!"

Arven waved the fishing rod. "When 1 big me gonna make Siss Cicely 'ave nettil soop ev'ry day for 'er lunch. Hah! Tha' soon make 'er be sicked!"

The three Abbeybabes' conversation tailed off, and they huddled together in the enclosed cupboard space. Soon their eyelids began drooping as sleep overtook them.

Lanterns glowed flickering and golden as Tansy and her two friends ascended the gloomy spiral staircase up to the attics. It was so hushed and still that they found themselves tip-pawing, speaking to one another in subdued whispers. Piknim stood in a pale moonshaft that shone down through the rock crystal window and gazed around into the dusty darkness. "I'm not so sure the Dibbuns'd come up here, Tansy," she said. "It's almost as spooky as the cellars at night."

The hedgehog maid began casting about with her lantern, peering into corners and recesses. "Maybe you're right, but it's still worth one last good look. Dearie me, imagine living and sleeping up here all alone. How Fermald did that for all those seasons I'll never know."

Craklyn emerged from a small side chamber off the main room. Holding a paw to her mouth for silence she beckoned them to her. A knowing smile lit up the squirrelmaid's face as she whispered, "There's a big old wall cupboard in there. Follow me quietly now, I want you to have a listen and tell me what you hear!"

Tansy put her ear to the cupboard door, and exchanging knowing glances with her companions, she listened. "Sounds like three Dibbuns snoring to me," she said.

The door creaked as Piknim opened it to reveal the three culprits: grimy, dust-covered and deep in sleep, whiskers twitching gently to each squeaky snore. Without further words Tansy and her two helpers picked the Abbeybabes up and carried them down to the sick bay.

Sister Cicely, clad in long nightcap and gown, pursed her lips severely at the sight.

"Bring them in and put them together in my bed. We'll deal with the villains in the morning!"

Two hours after dawn on the first morning of summer season it was already warm. Above the eastern horizon, a new gold sun began climbing to preside over a cloudless vault of powder-blue sky. Columns of steamy mist rose from the dense woodlands, rising to the upper air, accompanied by happy trills of sweet birdsong. Out on the flatlands kingcup and daisy opened delicate petals with silent grace, the first dry rustle of grasshoppers sounded around gorse and furze. It was a good day for anybeast to be alive. Well, almost anybeast.

Clean-smocked, red-eyed and still smelling of verbena soap, Arven, Diggum and Gurrbowl sat penitently on an upturned wheelbarrow in the orchard, their breakfast forgone after several bowls of Cicely's favorite cure-all, warm nettle soup. A sorrier trio of Dibbuns had not graced the Abbey in many a long day. Thoroughly chastened, they sat dangling their footpaws as Auma the badger Mother lectured them soundly, in front of an audience of old and young.

"You could have been suffocated in a closed cupboard with a lantern alight in there, d'you realize that? Everybeast in Redwall was searching for you from twilight until well after dark. But did you think of letting us know before you went off alone? ... No! The trouble, worry and upset you have caused to all is dreadful, it was very naughty of you! Arven, I'm certain you were the ringleader. Have you anything to say for yourself, sir?"

The tiny squirrel pawed soap and water from his ear. "Wot's succafated?''

Diggum shook her head at the squirrel's ignorance. "The wurd be fusticated!"

Gurrbowl interrupted her. "Naw et bain't, ee wurd is custi-fated!"

Friar Higgle Stump waved his ladle at them threateningly. "Suffocated, the word is, suffocated! An' it means that you liddle rogues would've died in yon cupboard 'ad it not been for miss Tansy aner friends findin' you!"

Auma nodded her great head, agreeing with the Friar. "Exactly, you're very lucky to be alive. Missus Teasel, will you take these three creatures off to the kitchens and find them some chores to keep them busy for the day?''

Teasel beckoned the wretched trio of Dibbuns to follow her. "I cert'nly can, Auma, there's always lots o' greasy pots, messy dishes an' floors t'be scrubbed. Veggibles need peelin' too, I shouldn't wonder. Come on, Dibbuns, step lively now!"

They were led off, murmuring to each other.

"Yugh! Gurt greasy pots an' mucky ole floors. Boo urr!"

"Us'd been better off fusticated!"

"Me was nearly succafated with alia tha' nettil soop!"

When they were gone, Auma turned to the otter gatekeeper. "Wullger, would you do me a favor? Take Furlo Stump with you, get hammer and spikes, and nail that attic cupboard shut. We don't want any more wandering Dibbuns hiding in there."

Wullger was about to carry out Auma's bidding when Glenner called out from the northwest walltop, "Two creatures ap-proachin' the Abbey, looks like Skipper an' the owl, in need of 'elp the way they're staggerin' about!"

Auma was up and ambling swiftly for the main gate. "Come on, Wullger, you too, Sister Cicely! Tansy, will you and Rollo see to that cupboard, please?"

Rollo waved after the badger. "Aye, you go and look after Skipper and Gerul. Come on, Tansy, and you, Piknim and Craklyn, I'm getting a bit old to be wielding a heavy hammer. It's bad enough having to climb all those stairs!"

Piknim held a wooden baton across the cupboard door. Craklyn positioned a spike between the baton end and the door frame, holding her head to one side, and said, "Go easy with that hammer, Tansy, mind my paws!"

As she was about to strike, Tansy paused. "Find the three babes and you will know ..." All at once the words of Martin the Warrior came back to her. She lowered the hammer. “Move that baton aside," she said. "Let's just check inside the cupboard before we board it up."

The inside of the cupboard was empty, save for Fermald's fishing rod. Rollo held it up, testing the rod's balance, and nodded. "This is a fine old fishing rod. If I'm not mistaken it looks like the one that belonged to Martin's grandsire, Matthias. He was a splendid angler, I've heard say. Yes, wonderfully made, see the pawgrip, good stout yew; the rest is made from young crack-willow whipped and bound with waxed flax . .. What's the matter, Tansy?"

Tansy took the rod from her friend the Recorder and inspected the middle part carefully. "Rollo, lend me your knife a moment," she said.

Mystified, the old bankvole passed Tansy the small quill knife he used for resharpening feather quill pens. The hedgehog maid explained as she worked, "The middle of this rod has been rebound. I noticed some of this flax looked newer than the rest, so I'll cut through it carefully and unwind it. .. Like this ..."

Snipping through the binding she began reeling it off, her voice sounding more excited as she twirled the rod in her paws. "Hahah! I had a feeling we would find something, and I was right! Look, there's a piece of paper underneath this binding!"

Thin parchment showed clearly. Piknim caught the flax, tugging it as Tansy twirled the rod swiftly, and the yellowed slip floated to the floor. As it landed, they could all see two words written large on the back: Well done.

The four friends sat on the floor as Tansy turned the parchment over and began to read Fermald's clues to the fourth pearl.

Chapter 27

Skipper and Gerul ate hungrily, slopping down elderberry and rosehip cordial between mouthfuls of leek pastie and hazelnut cheese. Sister Cicely and Brother Dormal the herbalist worked diligently, cleaning and binding their dirt-encrusted wounds. The otter Chieftain had told their story to the Redwallers who crowded into the kitchen. Some of them shook their heads in disbelief at the narrative.

"Great seasons, Skipper slew one o' those awful lizards?"

"He ain't a Skipper of otters for nothin', that'n's tough!"

"Look at that scar down Skip's side!"

Skipper chuckled and patted Gerul. "You should've seen me ole mate 'ere. He gave 'em what for!"

Gerul lowered his head, modestly picking crumbs from his feathered chest. "Ah, 'twas nothin', sir, as me ould mother used t'say, leave yer enemies like a plate after a good feedwell licked!"

Auma brought a pail of warm water infused with herbs for the pair to bathe weary paws and talons in. "Would it do any good to raise a force and follow Martin?" she asked. "He and the hare may be in sore need of help if they're still trying to rescue Viola and the Abbot. What d'you think, Skipper?''

The otter winced as Sister Cicely snipped away fur from a wound. "I don't think Martin'd want Redwallers roamin' the country lookin' fer 'im, marm. I'll send a score of my otters they'll make it down t'the sea followin' the streams."

Brother Dormal inspected Genii's damaged wing gingerly. "I think your flying days may well be over, friend," he said.

The owl was about to shrug, but thought better of it. "Ah well, not t'worry, sir, flyin's not everythin', y'know. Sure I'll get about just grand on me stout talons. Like me ould mother used t'say, walkin's good as wingin' whenever it's wet!"

Friar Higgle placed a platter of fruit tarts between Gerul and Skipper. "At least it hasn't affected your appetite."

Standing on a bench next to an old stone sink, three apron-clad Dibbuns scoured away at breakfast platters and pots. Arven glanced across to where Gerul and Skipper were being fussed over and fed. The little squirrel nudged his mole companions.

"Tchah! Looka them, they runned away an' cummed back all muckied up an' everybeasts be's nice to 'em, but wot 'appen to us'ns? We on'y went missin' a likkle time an' didden get filfy like tha'."

The molebabe Diggum scrubbed away halfheartedly at a pot with a wedge of soft sandstone. "Ee be roight, mate, we'm be scolded an' put t'work, hurr, but theybeasts be treated vurry noice, et bain't furr!"

Gurrbowl pulled an oatmeal-crusted bowl from the sink. "Burr aye, may'ap if us'ns stayed away longer an' cummed back lots dustier, we'm be treated gudd an' get noice vittles."

Arven clenched a chubby paw resolutely. "Me make a plan! Nex' time us'ns be lotsa brave, runaway inna woodlan's, take big bagga foods an' weppins, we fight alia badbeasts. Hah! we come back very very muck filfy, mud splatty, yurk! Then they be much gladda t'see us!"

Tansy's voice echoed round the attic as she read Fermald the Ancient's message. It was very complicated, but the four intrepid searchers expected no less.

"My fourth tear I shed,

For the Abbey Redwall,

Laid where it never

Should hatch or fall.

Below the mouth of a mouse looking south,

All in a deserted dwelling.

So sit o'er the maidenhair, gaze up north,

And solve what my next words are telling.

Put a home with our Abbey Warrior,

North East South at the start,

Then to complete this riddle,

Add the last thing in 'my heart'."

Tansy shook her head despairingly. "Well, I've seen some riddles in my time, but this one's a beauty. It's about as clear as a swamp-covered frog. Still, we won't solve it sitting round here." She jumped up and led the way down the spiral staircase. "Let's have lunch and spend all afternoon and evening on the puzzle."

By midday it was hot, and the grass was curling and dry, as if spring mists and rains were long gone. Friar Higgle had set up a buffet table in the orchard, and now he sat in the shade of a spreading damson tree with Auma and some Redwall elders. The Friar gazed up at the thick white masses of flowers crowding the boughs overhead and recited a season poem.

"When the damson tree's crowned white,

And wild pear blooms also,

I thank the season for this sight,

That lets good creatures know

Summer is come to shed its gold,

Warm days grow long as holm oak flow'rs,

The bees hum songs they learned of old,

To shorten night's long hours.

For spring is fled and summer's come,

Gather its blossoms and bring me some."

Rollo nodded appreciatively as he nibbled busily at the edges of a raspberry and apple turnover. "That's a nice poem, Higgle. I've never heard it before. Did you write it yourself?"

The Friar took a deep draft of his October ale. "Bless yer, no, Rollo, I couldn't write verses t'save me spikes! 'Twas Brother Dormal taught it t'me, he knows all about poems an' seasons an' growin' things. Ole Dormal's a right clever 'un!"

Dormal lowered his eyes modestly, blinking away a white blossom that had fallen on his eyelid. "It's nothin' really, the verses write themselves in my head."

Rollo licked raspberry juice from his chin. "But none knows more than you about growing things, right?"

Dormal was a shy old mouse; he shrugged lightly. "I suppose so. I love the things that grow as much as I like to write poetry. Why d'you ask?"

"Because I would like to know if we have maidenhair growing anywhere within Redwall."

"You mean spleenwort," Dormal corrected.

The Recorder shook his head. "No, I mean maidenhair!"

Dormal warmed to his favorite subject. “The correct name is spleenwort, though it is also commonly known as maidenhair. It's a wall-growin' fern. Hmm, we do have some growin' wild somewheres, now let me think ..."

Rollo was about to urge the old mouse to hurry his memory up, when Dormal nodded knowingly, and said, "On the inside o' the south wall, slap bang in the middle, about halfway up. I culled some for Sister Cicely last autumn. But why d'you want to know about spleenwort, Rollo?"

Dormal found himself speaking to thin air. Rollo had left.

Tansy, Piknim and Craklyn sat on the upturned wheelbarrow, giggling as they tried to protect their lunch against Skipper and Gerul, whose injuries seemed to have increased their insatiable appetites. Winking both eyes at the three Abbeymaids, the owl allowed his talons to rove perilously close to their food.

"Ah now, what would three slender young beauties like yer-selves want with stodgy hazelnut pudden? 'Twill only make fatbeasts of ye, missies. My ould mother always used t'say, if yer not fat there's a slim chance some creature'll fall in love with ye, so she did, an' herself as thin as a beanpole an' greatly loved by all, so she was!"

Tansy pulled the pudding out of his reach. "Tut tut, mister Gerul, your mother couldn't have loved you much, you great butterbarrel. Hahahaha!"

Skipper agreed with her, swiping a couple of blackberry muffins as he did so. "That's right, missie. I don't know which is bigger, ole Genii's eyes or his belly. Hohoho!"

"Hah! Look who's talking, old famine-tummy himself!" said Craklyn, then she neatly caught one of the muffins as it was halfway to the otter's mouth and tossed it to Piknim.

Gerul intercepted the muffin, and before Piknim could stop him he had crammed half of it into his beak. "True words, miss, true words, I'd sooner keep Skipper in vittles for a day than a season, so I would!"

Rollo strode busily up and tapped his paws on the wheelbarrow. "No time for fooling about, friendsI've just made an important discovery. Follow me and forget lunch!"

Before they could argue he had ushered them off in the direction of the south Abbey wall. Gerul watched them go, dividing the hazelnut pudding in two with a spoon. "T'be sure, there's somethin' heroic about a vole who won't let vittles keep him from his duty. That'n will be voted Abbot one day, Skip, you mark me words. Rollo the Righteous they'll call him, so they will!"

Maidenhair spleenwort grew spiderlike from the cracks in the stonework of the high south wall. Fronds of different lengths spread in all directions, each stem covered in tiny spearhead-shaped leaflets ranging from pale to bright green. Upward of a dozen or more plants clung to the sandstone, forming a tracery almost from ground to ramparts.

"So sit o'er the maidenhair, gaze up north," Tansy said, as she checked the poem parchment.

Piknim and Craklyn were already racing away towards the wallsteps. "Last one to the steps is a crawly old caterpillar!"

Rollo stared over the top of his glasses at Tansy. "I know I'm the crawly old caterpillar, but where are they going? Have I missed something?"

Tansy took the old Recorder's paw. "The only way we can carry out Fermald's instructions is to sit on the battlements of this wall, over the maidenhair. Then we'll see what to make of this riddle. Come on, no hurry, we'll be crawly caterpillars together."

Chapter 28

Day broke hot and hazy over the isle of Sampetra as the murderous game between Ublaz and Rasconza took a new turn. The fox was asleep in his cabin when a sharp rat-tat on the door awoke him. He sat up groggily, yawning and blinking.

"Quit that knockin' an' come in!"

The door swung open to reveal the mad-eyed pine marten. Rasconza leapt for his sword, which lay on a nearby table. Ublaz held both paws wide to show he was unarmed. "Leave your blade, friend. I could have crept in here and slain you as you slept."

Rasconza poured himself a beaker of seaweed grog, careful not to lock eyes with Ublaz. “So, what gets you outta yore bunk this early?" he snarled.

The Emperor had dressed in brown silk that morning. He looked around at the stained benches and chairs, and chose to stand. ' T merely called to tell you that the first new rudder and tiller are ready. My workers toiled through the night to finish them. Even as we speak my creatures are fitting them to this vessel."

Rasconza was nonplussed. He stood staring at his beaker.

"'Well, I'll say this for ye, matey, y've got some nerve comin' down 'ere. Don't ferget, I could order the crews to attack. We still outnumber yore forces!"

Ublaz gestured elegantly towards the open door. "I took the precaution of arriving silently. Your sentries are asleep and the other five crews snoring inside their cabins. A simple but effective operation, Rasconza. Oh, and one other thing. Stay away from your swordyou would have to face me if you were intent on slaying me. Then our eyes would meet. And if I can put a poisonous water snake under my spell, a simple fox would present no problem. It's your move, friend."

Rasconza could hear the Trident-rats hammering the rudder pins home and fitting the tiller above decks. Smiling with a confidence he did not feel, the fox answered Ublaz, "I still hold five of yore creatures, the captains, remember? One shout from me and they'll all be fishbait!"

The pine marten had painted his claws red to offset the brown silk. He breathed on them and buffed them on his flowing sleeve as he murmured, "Shout away, fox, shout away. Do you think I gave you valuable fighters to captain these ships? Like Orlug, whom you slew, those five are worthless fools. Kill them if you want to."

Rasconza scratched his matted tail with grimy claws, baffled. "Well, what do y'want? You've got me cornered in 'ere; y'don't care about yer own creatures, and now yer fixin' me ship up with a new rudder an' tiller? You've probl'y got a gang of yer best lizards waitin' outside to slay me, is that wot yer want?"

Ublaz leaned back against the cabin door, smiling. "I've already said I don't want to slay you, Rasconza. Friendship and trust, that's what I want. Look, here's what I propose. Forget the rats I appointed as captains. Choose your own from among the crews, and I'll give the order for mine to stand down. Then I want you to pick out all those loyal to you and crew this ship up. If we are to rule Sampetra together you must prove yourself to me, Rasconza! I want you to captain this vessel, sail anywhere you please, but bring me back the finest cargo of plunder ever seen on a corsair ship. Prove you are my Captain in Chief!"

Rasconza's eyes lit up. "You mean that? Fair enough, Ublaz, I'll pick me crew an' bring back plunder t'this isle that'll make yer eyes pop out!"

The Emperor grinned wryly. "Oh, I don't think I'd like that to happen, but I'm glad you see things my way. You are a worthy partner, Rasconza. I like having cleverbeasts around me, there are too many fools in this world."

When Ublaz had departed, Rasconza called the crews together and gave them a highly falsified version of what had taken place between himself and the Emperor, giving them the impression that he had outsmarted Mad Eyes. The wave vermin cheered wildly, and began to break open kegs of grog. Then the fox banged his sword hilt on the jetty for silence, and continued his narrative.

"So I sez to ole Mad Eyes, get those rats o' yourn off our ships. I won't 'ave nobeast commandin' these vessels but our own. So, Baltur, Gancho, an' you Groojaw the stoat, an' you, Deddgutt the ferret, an' you Buckla the searatyore my five new cap'ns now! Stan' up lively, the rest o' yer, I'm takin' my ship Bloodkeel on a plunderin' trip, an' I wants none but the best alongside o' me!"

Amid scenes of wild revelling on the sunlit jetty, Rasconza chose his crew for the voyage. They leapt aboard Bloodkeel yelling and roaring in anticipation of plunder and slaughter.

Guja, the former steersrat of Barranca's ship Freebooter, was made steersrat of Bloodkeel because there was none better for the job. The vermin laughed and cheered as he twiddled a tune on his melodeon, singing in a cracked baritone,

“ Would yer plunder from yer mother?

Yes I would, yes I would,

For me mother always said I was no good.