"Ooooh! I say, go easy there! Yowchouch!"

"Is that water hot enough yet, Rimrose? I want to make a nettle poultice. Can't be too careful with tail wounds!"

"Yeeeek! Assassins! Help me, somebeast, they're torturin' me t'death! Owowowowowowwww!"

"So brave an' silent, ain't 'e, Mayon?"

"Whooooooh! Fiends! Gerroff, lemmego! Oohoohooh!"

"Stiff upper lip, mister Florian, that's the jolly ole spirit. Chin up an' never say die, ole chap, wot wot!"

Brother Melilot and Runktipp were setting up the banqueting board in the orchard. Gubbio Foremole and Tragglo Spearback upended a cask onto a trestle, and Tragglo knocked home a spigot with his bung mallet. He held a beaker beneath the tap, allowing a small quantity of sparkling pinkish liquid to flow into it. Melilot took the proffered beaker and sipped.

"Best strawberry fizz cordial I ever tasted!"

Runktipp sat on the ground, looping a thin wire about the big white celery cheese he was about to cut. "Lend a paw 'ere, Brother, 'tis too much for me t'cut alone!"

Melilot clapped a paw to his forehead. "Pear'n'chestnut flans! I've left six of 'em in the ovens!" He hurried off, calling back orders. "Tragglo, help cut the cheese, will you! Foremole, send some of your crew to collect those oatfarls from the windowsills, they should be well cooled by now! Roop, Muggle, start loading the trolleys. Don't forget the saladoh, and see if you can find my serving fork. I don't know where 'tis gone to. Deesum marm, would you be kind enough to top off the trifle? You'll find fresh chopped fruit on the big stone slab. Oh dear, I hope those flans aren't burnt!"

Tragglo and Runktipp pulled the wire smoothly through the large cheese, then lifted off the moist white circular slice and cut it into four wedge-shaped chunks ready for the table.

Runktipp glanced sideways at the berry hedge. "We're bein' watched, mate. 'Tis prob'ly cheese-robbers!"

Tragglo took his barrel knife and cut a small piece from the cheese, held it up and called out to the hidden creatures, "You can 'ave some cheese if'n you promises not t'slay us all afore our work's done 'ere!"

The fiendish Dwopple and his cohort, the molebabe Wugger, emerged from behind the hedge. Both Dibbuns were practically unrecognizable. Daubed from ears to tail with gray kitchen ash and flecked with black spots of charcoal, they wore gray blankets, purloined from the dormitory, as cloaks. Stumbling on the blanket hems, they leapt toward the cheese.

Tragglo struggled to keep a straight face. "An' who might you turrible beasts be?"

Dwopple turned his most fearsome scowl upon the big hedgehog. "Us be's Marmfloxes, an' y'can't see us, 'cos we be unvizzible!"

Tragglo caught on to the game right away. He looked strangely at Runktipp, who had also guessed what was going on. "Did you say somethin', mate?"

Runktipp shook his spiky head vigorously. "I never said a word. I thought 'twas you, mate?"

Dwopple sniggered gleefully as he and Wugger grabbed the cheese. "It workin', toT yer they cuddent see us, heehee!"

Wugger broke the cheese in two, giving half to his partner in crime. "Hurr, vurry gudd. Us'n's best varnish naow, loike ee Marmfloxes!"

The heavy digging claws of Gurrbowl Cellarmole descended on them. "You'm bain't a-varnishin' nowheres, rogues. Oi see ee gudd enuff t'know you'm be in gurt need o' a barth an' sound scrubbin'!"

Both "Marmfloxes" were hauled off kicking and squealing by the dutiful molewife.

Added to the scent of the orchard, an aroma of wonderful food created an intoxicating atmosphere. Janglur, Skipper and Rusvul had been temporarily relieved by three good Guosim, and were sitting together with Rimrose and Ellayo. All around them the buzz and chatter of happy creatures added to the festive spirit. Even the vari-hued butterflies and bumblebees that hovered about the orchard seemed part of the enchanted afternoon.

Cregga Badgermum created an instant hush when she stood to speak. "Friends, Redwallers, good creatures all, before we carry on to enjoy this sunny day, let me say a few words in the absence of either Abbot or Abbess. First, let us hope that the Marlfox threat has gone from Mossflower country. Brave creatures lost their lives in defense of our Abbey, and we must remember them always in our minds and hearts. But also we must resolve never to yield to evil, whether it be Marlfox or any other vermin attempting to destroy the peaceful life of Redwall. Next, I feel we should give due thanks to our warriors. Janglur Swifteye, Rusvul Reguba, Bargle Guosim, Skipper of otters, Borrakul and all of you who defended the Abbey, our thanks to you brave ones!"

There was a mass murmur of agreement, which broke out into hearty applause. Cregga waited before continuing.

"Also we must live in hopes for the safety of Janglur's daughter Song, Rusvul's son Dannflor and the young Guosim Dippler. These, we now know, have gone to get back the tapestry, which is the very heart of Redwall. Fate and fortunes keep them well and aid them on their quest. Now, before we begin, is there anything that you wish to ask me, friends?"

Tragglo Spearback's voice rang out strong and clear. "Aye, marm, I want to know why you ain't our Abbess. Everybeast wishes you were!"

Roars of approval and loud cheers echoed everywhere. Skipper was forced to whack the table with his rudder to get order. "Ahoy, give marm a chance, will ye? Thanks, marm, the floor's yours."

Cregga nodded gratefully in the otter Chieftain's direction. "Well done, Skip! Redwallers, I once had command when I ruled Salamandastron, the great fortress by the sea. Now I wish to live out my seasons in peace. I can help and advise, but I will not rule, on that my word is final. So, if there are no more questions, we will start the feast!"

Bargle held up a paw, grinning mischievously. "Beg pardon, marm, but could you tell us why mister Florian ain't sittin' down like the rest of us?"

Cregga's blind eyes turned in the shrew's direction. "Isn't he? I hadn't noticed. Mayhap mister Florian can throw some light upon the mystery. Sir?"

Amid gales of laughter from all who knew what had happened, Florian glared daggers at the cheeky shrew. "Flippin' spiky-mopped waterbeetle, mind your own business, wot! Chap has the right t'stand or sit as he jolly well pleases, without your bottle-nosed inquiries, flamin' fatbellied boat-bobber! Shove some salad down that great gob of yours an' give it a flippin' rest!"

"I was just about to do that, sir," Bargle shouted cheerfully back, "but I can't find the salad fork noplace. But we all trust you, mister Florian. You will find it!"

Adding insult to injury, Mayon roared out, "Aye, you'll get t'the bottom of things, won't ye, sir!"

The outraged hare loaded two plates high with food and marched off, balancing a flagon of October Ale between the platters. "A frog's feather for you lot. I'll go an' dine elsewhere. I'm not standin' here t'be insulted!"

"Then sit down if y'dare!"

Redwallers held their aching ribs, sobbing with laughter, as much at Bargle's parting shot as at the sight of Florian Dugglewoof Wilffachop, strutting off with a heavily bandaged rear end.

Chapter 23.

Late night turned extremely cloudy, leaving the four travelers paddling in complete blackness for long periods when the moon became hidden by heavy cloudbanks. The stream had grown much deeper wider, tooand they could no longer feel the odd touch of paddle against streambed. Dann caught the first overhanging branches that he could reach and hauled them in to the bank. "That's enough for one night, pals. The stream may get pretty treacherous in the dark. Let's make camp."

Pulling the Swallow up onto dry ground, they sat on a partially mossed rock shelf. Song peered about her, but could not make out much in the thick tree groves surrounding them. "What d'you think, Dann? Shall we chance a fire?"

The young squirrel was busy digging food out of their packs. "Hmm, I don't see why not, eh, Burb?"

"Ah yiss yiss, a bit of an ould blaze always cheers things up, an' we might see where we've landed. Yiss!"

Dippler went off to look for fuel, and was soon back, staggering under a load of wood. "Found a stricken pine tree back there. Good dry stuff 'tis."

Dann struck flint against his swordblade onto some dry moss, and soon they had a bright crackling little fire. Supper consisted of a few scones, some almonds and raisins and a brew of Goody Brimm's mint and burnet rose hip tea. Only the immediate area of their camp was lit up; beyond that the woodland looked thick, dark and impenetrable.

Without warning a rock whistled out of the night and struck Burble a thudding blow between his shoulders. Dann and Song acted swiftly, dragging the watervole into the shadows, while Dippler scattered the fire into the stream with the flat of his paddle blade. A mocking voice called out of the woodland to them. "Yah, y'ain't got yer big 'edge'og wid yer now. We're comin' t'get yez, me liddle buckoes!"

They recognized the voice immediately. It was the stoat whom Soil had chased off, and they had no doubt that his two weasel allies were still with him. He called out again. "No use tryin' to 'ide from us, young 'uns, we'll get yer. Stand where y'are an' drop yer weapons. If ye do we'll make it quick. But move a muscle an' yore dyin'll be long'n'slow!"

Dann blinked his eyes hard, rubbing a paw into them to dispel the effects of the firelight. Song was already on the move. She launched the Swallow back into the stream, and then she and Dippler helped Burble into the boat. He appeared to be in considerable pain. Song pushed the craft clear of the bank.

"Burb, are you all right?"

"Yiss yiss, I'm fine, missie. Cummon, we'd best git goin'!"

But the pretty squirrelmaid had other ideas. "Listen to me, Burb. Grab that branch hangin' down yonder. Hold the Swallow offshore an' wait for us. But if anybeast tries to get you or the boat, let go of the branch and drift off. We'll catch up with you downstream, all being well."

Song and Dippler crawled back to where Dann hid in the shadows. The stoat was still calling. "Naughty naughty now, ye've moved. We'll 'ave ter punish yer fer that, me liddle friends!"

Song grasped her Leafwood stick, Dippler and Dann drew their blades.

"No use runnin' from them, they'll only follow us. Let's do a bit of punishin' of our own, mates. Remember what Soil said, they're only bullies and cowards. Split up and go three ways!"

Song crawled off into the trees, toward where the stoat's last call had come from. She heard the whirl of a sling close by and the whoosh of a rock hurtling off toward their former position. A voice then, whispering low; it sounded like one of the weasels.

" 'Tis 'ard to see in this dark. Mebbe they've got away?"

"Nah, they'll still be there," the stoat replied, low but confident, "terrified out their wits, you wait'n'see. You take the left, you take the right, an' circle in on 'em. I'll go straight in. We'll 'ave 'em on three sides wid the stream at their backs, and then fer a bit o' sport, eh, cullies?"

Song hoped that her friends had heard. She stood up silently behind the broad trunk of a sycamore and held her breath. Within a hairsbreadth she sensed one of the weasels stalking by. She stepped out behind the dark shape and hit out with the greenstone-topped stick, slamming it square between the weasel's scraggy ears. He fell without a sound. Song placed her paw on his chest; he was stunned, but still alive. She hauled him into a sitting position, binding his paws behind him to the trunk of an ash with his own thonged sling. Then she undid the vermin's broad belt and gagged him with that.

Dippler lived by the code of the Guosim shrews, who seldom took prisoners. The weasel who had gone to the right met his end at the point of the young shrew's rapier.

Dann backtracked slightly, then stepped out in front of the stoat and took him completely by surprise. But the stoat was quick. He leapt to one side and began whining and pleading with the hard-eyed warrior with the deadly sword.

"'Twas nought but a joke, mate. Can't yer take a joke? We was jus' 'avin a bit o' fun wid youse ..."

Dann saw the stoat's dagger coming and dodged sideways. Then he leapt forward, striking down with the blade of Martin. The stoat fell with a shriek as Song and Dippler came charging through the trees.

"Dann, are you hurt, did you get him?"

Dann stayed the writhing stoat on the ground with his footpaw. "I'm all right. Unfortunately my aim was bad in the darkness, or this scum would've been dead now."

The stoat groaned, then spat viciously at Dann. "You wounded me bad, y'stupid young fool. Couldn't yer see 'twas only a joke? We wasn't goin' to 'urt yer!"

Dann placed his sword edge on the side of the stoat's neck. "One more word out o' yore lyin' mouth an' yore head'll be talkin' to y'tail. How's that for a joke, eh?"

Song nodded back into the woodland. "Knocked my vermin cold and left him gagged an' bound to a tree. How did you fare, Dipp?"

Dippler wiped his rapier with a pawful of grass. "Ole Guosim proverb, a dead enemy ain't an enemy no more!" Sheathing his blade he went to the boat, calling aloud, "Burb, 'tis me, Dipp. Y'can bring 'er inshore now, mate."

Dann took Song to one side. "What do we do with the stoat?" he said quietly. "I couldn't bring myself to kill him, and we can't just leave him here."

The squirrelmaid watched the writhing, groaning beast as she sought for a solution. "Go and get some rivermud. Leave this to me."

Dann fetched a good glob of mud from the shallows. Song knelt by the stoat, who was wounded deep in his right side. She tore off a strip of his tunic, slapped the mud on his injury and placed the torn tunic in a pad on top of it. "There, you'll live. Tomorrow you can free your friendhe's tied to an ash back there. Listen carefully to what I'm going to tell you, stoat."

The stoat sneered and cleared his throat as if he were about to spit at Song. She gave him a quick hard cuff to the face. "Spit at me and I'll leave you to my Guosim friend. You heard his rule about enemies. From now on you'll have to learn to live with yourself. No more bullying, stealing or villainy for you, stoat. With that wound you'll probably limp or walk bent for the rest of your days. My advice to you is to build yourself a home, grow your own food, or harvest it from the woodlands, fish, do what you will, but learn to lead a quiet honest life."

When Song arose the stoat lay sneering at her. "Leave me alone, squirrel. I knows 'ow t'lead me own life, see!"

Dann tugged her away from the wounded vermin. "Leave him. Somebeasts never learn. He'll be an idiot all his life an' end up a dead fool!"

It was not wise to stay any longer where they had camped. The four friends paddled off downstream and chose a campsite on the opposite bank. Too weary to do anything further, they dragged the Swallow onshore, overturned the boat and slept under it for the short remaining time until dawn.

Morning brought with it another bright summer day. Eager to be off, the travelers breakfasted hastily. Soon they were paddling along in the center of the wide stream. Sitting behind Burble, the young squirrelmaid could not help but notice the dark bruise at the base of his neck. "Take a rest if you need it, Burb. We'll do the paddling."

"No need fer that, thank ye, missie. I'm all right. Us River'ead voles are tough as ould oak trees. Yiss yiss, that's a fact!"

Dann shipped his paddle. "No need for any of us to paddle, matey," he called back to Song. "See 'ow fast this current's runnin'. May's well sit back an' rest. We'll only need paddles to steer round rocks'n'things."

By midmorning the green tunnel of overhanging tree branches was showing signs of thinning out. When noon arrived they were sorry the shade had been lost, for there was little respite from the blazing sun as the Swallow shot along on the swift stream. Dry arid scrub and rockstrewn banks, with little shrubbery growing in the dusty brown earth, stretched before them on both sides.

Now they needed the paddles. The broad, deep stream grew treacherous, and sharp stone pinnacles began to appear, some with heavy drifts of timber, washed down by the water, piled up against them. On either side the stone sides of the banks rose higher, banded umber and fawn, worn smooth by the rushing torrents. The Swallow's prow bobbed up and down as she sped between the steep walls of the gorge. There was little the travelers could do to arrest their furious progress. Dann and Dippler sat for'ard, plying their paddles this way and that to get the Swallow around the pinnacles, while Song consulted the rhyme Friar Butty had given her, speaking it aloud to Burble.

"Then when the sky shows blue and light, And clear down to the bed you gaze, Be not deceived by rainbows bright, Beware tall stones and misted haze."

Song turned her eyes upward. "We're no longer in the green tunnel, so there's the sky showing blue and light. Is the water muddy or clear, Burb?"

"Ah, 'tis fast-runnin' as y'know, but still the stream's deep an' clear, yiss yiss, very clear, I see the bottom deep down."

"Great seasons, lookit the size o' those rocks ahead!"

They looked in the direction Dippler was pointing.

Two enormous rock pinnacles, their tops thick with vegetation, reared out of the water farther downstream like primitive sentinels. What lay beyond them was lost in a haze of mist formed by water spray shooting high as the stream divided three ways around the rock bases. The awesome spectacle was enhanced by a breathtakingly beautiful rainbow bridging the gorge.

Suddenly, Song seized her paddle, shouting out above the roaring waters, "Bring her in to the side. Find somewhere we can stop. Quickly!"

Backs bent and paddles digging deep, they fought the headlong current. Tacking and veering, drenched to the skin, the four friends battled to bring the frail vessel toward the high rock wall that formed one bank.

Burble spotted a possible place. "There, see, yiss yiss, there, where the rift is!"

Backing water madly, they checked the Swallow as she ran close to the towering cliff. All Dann could see for a moment was a wraithlike armored mouse, hovering in the mist ahead, his hollow voice blending with the roar of waters.

"The sword, Dann, my sword!"

Leaning dangerously out from the prow, Dann whipped forth the sword and thrust it instinctively into the large crack running up the rock face. Throwing his weight forward against the hilt, Dann pushed hard. The Swalloiv hovered for a moment, then turned in a fast circle on the dashing waters until Dann found himself facing upstream. The boat had turned completely around. Straining against the mighty pressure, Dann held her firm.

"Song, do something quick! I can't hold her much longer!"

There was a ledge overhead. Song reached it the only way she could. With a bound she was on Burble's shoulders, thrusting herself into an upward leap. Her paws grasped the ledge and she hauled herself upward, scrabbling to find holds in the rifted stone. She pulled and struggled until she was lying flat on the ledge, hanging over the edge. She held out her paws. "Burble, throw me the stern rope!"

The river vole threw the rope into her waiting paws, then made the other end fast by looping it around the rear seat. Song knotted the rope around a spur in the side of the rift while the others tossed their paddles up onto the ledge. Dippler was first up the rope. He and Song leaned over to help Burble, with Dann following in the rear. As soon as they were safe from the thundering waters, the four companions hauled the Swallow up to the rocky platform, with their supplies intact.

Dann sat panting, his back against the sunwarmed rocks. He patted the hilt of the sword. "Whew! Thanks to Friar Butty's rhyme an' this sword we made it. See that haze down yonder, beneath the rainbow? I'd take me oath that I saw a vision of Martin the Warrior hoverin' there. 'Twas he told me to shove the sword into the crack."

Song looked from the misted haze to the sword. "I don't doubt that you did, Dann. That blade must be some powerful kind of steel to hold a boat and us four safe from those waters. I dread t'think what would've happened to us if we'd been swept away between those two big rocks. I wonder what's down that way?"

Dippler was setting out a makeshift meal of scones and fruit. "Let's 'ave a bite to eat first. Then we'll toiler these ledges downstream an' see where the current leads."