It was Basil Stag Hare. He was crouching on the wet ground, hugging something to him and sobbing brokenly.

Matthias felt a huge lump like a lead weight in his chest as he knelt beside the hare. Winifred turned away, unable to look. The fat little Redwall cook lay limp and dead, unaware of the rain that beat down upon the favourite dockleaf his tail still held in its curl. Tears coursed openly down Basil's cheeks as he hugged the still form.

"Hugo old lad, what did they do to you?"

Winifred knelt with her friends. Silently she began brushing the loam and soil rrom the sodden habit and once spotless white ap.r.o.n of the beloved little Friar, then without warning she broke down and began weeping like a baby.

"He never did harm to a living creature. Why this. . . . Why?"

Basil stood slowly, his legs shaking as he held Hugo in his paws. "Permission to carry my old friend back to his Abbey?"

Matthias remained kneeling on the ground, his fur saturated by the ceaseless rain.

"Permission granted, Basil. Winifred, will you tell them I'll be a little late back to Great Hall." The Warrior's voice trembled as he spoke.

As Matthias watched his friends depart, he picked up the dockleaf that had fallen from Friar Hugo's lifeless tail and pressed it to his lips in silent remembrance of his friend.

Inside the Great Hall of the Abbey a large brazier had been set up and lit. Steam rose from the fur of all the creatures as they rubbed themselves off on rough towels. Sister May from the infirmary moved among them, giving out doses of herbal medicine. Many sat on the stone Boor, clutching their heads tightly to relieve splitting headaches. Matthias strode in, followed by Basil Stag Hare. He clattered his swordblade against a sandstone column to gain attention. "Abbot, Constance, Winifred, Jess Squirrel, Warbeak 73.

Sparra, Foremole and you, Basil, follow me down to Cavern Hole. The rest of you, stay inside, keep diy and warm, and look after those who are not well."

A semblance of order was restored in Great Hall. Hot soup was being made in the kitchen, warm blankets-were distributed by Brother Rufus and Sister Agnes, Sister May and Mrs. Churchmouse tended John Church-mouse in the infirmary, while Cornflower took charge of baby Rollo.

Down the steps in Cavern Hole, Matthias sat at the big table with the others. He looked around.

"Well, did any creature see what went on last night? Can anyone shed any light on this terrible thing? 1 want straight answers, no guesses, please."

There was silence, then the Abbot said, "We will have to wait until John Churchmouse is recovered sufficiently to talk. The only other two witnesses to what went on are no longer with us."

There was a stunned silence as the enormity of events sat like a heavy stone upon the little group.

Jess Squirrel stood up slowly. "I'll go to the infirmary and see how Mr. Churchmouse is faring."

Basil livened up. 'Thaf s the ticket, Jess. Action, thafs what we need. Now, where do we start?"

The Abbot folded his paws into his wide sleeves. "At the beginning, Basil. I think we all know who did this shocking thing."

"Harr, boi 'okey we do, zurr,' Foremole growled. " Twas they rascally durtbags, foxes an' the loik, they'm magicked us f sleepen."

"Magicked my auntie's tail," Winifred the Otter snorted. "That was a powerful sleeping draught. We should've known not to trust a fox, should never have let 'em in."

Matthias banged the tabletop hard. "Enough! No accusations or blame-laying, please. Now, you say that we were drugged by a sleeping draught, well, that 74.

makes sense. I remember the fox asking us to drink a toast. He coutd have slipped herbs or powders into the drinks any time at all while we were watching the entertainment."

Ambrose Spike had walked in. His stickles rose stiffly. "Aye, that's what he did, the sc.u.mmy toad. Then he started twirlin' that cloak thing of his round and round. I couldn't keep me old eyes open."

There were murmurs of agreement.

"Me too, if s the last thing I remember."

"Aye, we were mesmerized, I tell you."

"Lunar Stellaris my back paw, colossal cheek more like it, wot?"

Foremole's ground logic took over. "Hurr, but wot worr ee arfter?"

"That's the question." Matthias sighed heavily. "We don't keep treasure or precious things that could be looted. There's only the sword and our great tapestry. I have the sword and I know our tapestry soil hangs in Great Hall, I've seen it with my own eyes this very morning. So what was he after?"

Warbeak the Sparra Queen shook a wing. "They um worms, must come from the northlands. All bad in north. They go back that way, open little wormgate in north wall."

Basil seconded Warbeak. "V y1 know, I believe you're right, old thing. When the bally rain stops chuckin' down I'll try and track 'em. Huh, 'fraid there won't be much to track after this downpour, though."

"I think the Brothers and Sisters should take stock of everything, just in case there is something missing," the Abbot suggested. "Foremole, would you get a burial detail of your moles to dig two graves next to each other? Basil, perhaps you could see what you can find around that small north wallgate. The rest of you, when the rain stops, please help to bring the tables and stuff back in. We'd best get the Abbey back to normal running as soon as possible."

75.

Matthias stood up resolutely. "Right, thaf s it then. I think I'll take a walk up to the infirmary and see how John is."

Sister May and Mrs. Churchmouse cautioned Matthias to be silent as he entered the sick bay. John Church-mouse lay pale and still but breathing evenly.

"How is he?" Matthias whispered.

Mrs. Churchmouse smiled. "Alive and recovering, thank you, Matthias."

John opened his eyes slowly and looked around. Matthias pressed his head back to the pillow as he tried to rise. 'Take it easy, old friend, just lie there. But if you feel like talking, perhaps you could tell us what you remember of last night. n.o.body knows what went on at the feast"

Tears beaded in John's eyes. "Friar Hugo and I had full cups already, so we didn't let them pour us more ale. Poor Mrs. Bankvole was too busy looking after her baby to join in the toast. Matthias, there's no doubt about it, you were all drugged, even then Hugo and I were half hypnotized by that fox with the cape. When we saw what was going on we ran after them and tried to stop it, all three of us, the Friar, Mrs. Bankvole and myself."

"But what did go on, what were they after, John?" Matthias had an awful feeling in the pit of his stomach as he asked the question.

The Churchmouse broke down sobbing. "Our young ones, Matthias. They took my Tim and Tess, Sam Squirrel, Cynthia Bankvole and your Mattimeo!"

An icy claw gripped Matthias's heart. The words echoed from the doorway where Cornflower stood with baby Rollo.

"Mattimeo gone, impossible! I'm sure I saw him with the others out there in the rain. Wasn't he with you. Matthias? Tim and Tess, he was with Tim and Tess, yes, thaf s it!"

"My Tim and Tess! Oh, you saw them!" Mrs. Church-76 mouse's voice was tinged with hope. Matthias slammed his paw against the wall, anger and frustration etched upon his face.

"We were still half drugged, the rain was sheeting down, you could not have seen them. You must believe what John says: he saw them being taken. What fools we were not to realize it before now!"

Cornflower was still shaking her head, refusing to accept the fact. "Jess, they'll be with Jess downstairs, all wrapped in blankets and drinking hot soup, you'll see."

"Cornflower, stop! They're gone, believe me. But by my sword Til bring them back, I swear it!"

Baby Rollo was hidden by the ap.r.o.ns of Cornflower and Mrs. Churchmouse as they hugged each other and wept. John raised his head.

"Little Cynthia Vole and Sam Squirrel too, they took them all," he said sadly.

Sister May began bathing John's wound. She dabbed away the tears that fell upon his brow.

"Poor Jess, whatever will we tell her? Dearie me, little Cynthia is an orphan. Bless the mite, what will become of her? What a cruel and heartless thing to do. Those wicked beasts, stealing our young ones away. What badness!"

Matthias put his paw about Cornflower's shaking shoulders. He was numbed. Thoughts of his son raced through his mind; the stern lecture he had given him, the double tasks. Now he was gone. It was as if half of his heart had gone too. He loved Mattimeo, who would do Kttle things that reminded him so much of himself and Cornflower. Poor Cornflower. Even now she was trying to be brave, comforting Mrs. Churchmouse.

Matthias held her tighter. "Don't worry, Cornflower, I'll bring our son back. I'll bring them all back. Nothing can stop me doing that. He'll be back in his own bed in the gatehouse cottage soon, you'll see."

Mrs. Churchmouse went to tend John and Sister May slipped off to break the sad news to jess Squirrel.

77.

Cornflower took Rollo over to the infirmary window. She stared out at the rain.

"I won't be going back to our gatehouse until Mattimeo is back," she declared. "I'll stay at the Abbey and mind Rollo."

Matthias nodded silently as Cornflower dried her eyes and sighed, "Oh Mattimeo, I hope no harm comes to you, my son. Poor Mattimeo."

Baby Rollo spread his paws wide, his face as sad as Cornflower's. "Pore 'timeo gone'd. Aaaahhhhh!"

Matthias joined them at the window, staring out into the rain. Sorrow and pain mingled with the cold lights of rage and vengeance in his eyes.

12.

Mattimeo did not know at first whether he was awake or dreaming. The tip of his ear itched initatingly, but it was as if there were leaden weights on his limbs. He could only raise his paw halfway, then the other paw would start to come upward as if pulled like a puppet on a string. From far away he heard unpleasant sn.i.g.g.e.ring and a loud swishing noise.

Crack'.

The young mouse arched his back in agony as a searing pain lanced across him. His eyes opened with shock. He saw Vitch swinging a long thin willow cane. The second blow caught him low across the flanks. Stung by pain and rage, Mattimeo tried to leap up and teach the little rat a good lesson, but he stumbled, falling backwards with manacles clanking around him.

He was chained!

Vitch laughed nastily and raised the whipping cane slowly. "Come on, spoilt baby, little Abbey pet, what are you going to do now, eh?"

Again and again the cane rose and fell, striking the young prisoner indiscriminately. In his excitement Vitch was jumping about as he wielded the thin willow.

"Haha, there's no silly badger to stop me now, is there? I won't have to scrub floors and dean saucepans now.

79.

Take that and that and th-"

He danced in too dose. Under the stinging rain ot blows, Mattimeo saw Vitch's paw step within his reach. Crossing both paws tightly, the young mouse tugged hard, bringing the little rat crashing down. Mattimeo bit, b.u.t.ted and belabored away at his tormentor with the slack of the chain.

"Help, help! Murder! He's killing me!" Vttch screamed in panic.

Threedaws the weasel hauled them roughly apart. He kicked Mattimeo down and flung Vitch against the far wall.

"h.e.l.l's teeth! Stop screeechin' and shoutin', will you? Whaf s going on here?"

Vitch was quivering with indignation. "You stop shoving me about, Threedaws. Slagar said I could take my revenge on that one when we had him chained up."

-The weasel looked at him disgustedly. "Huh, you weren't makin' a very good job of it, were you? From what I saw, mis mouse was givin' you a good hidin'."

Vitch dashed forward swinging the cane. "I'll teach him a lesson he won't forget this time!"

Threedaws caught the cane and pulled it from Vitch's grasp, then grabbed the struggling rat firmly by the neckfur, "No you won't, snotnose. I'm in charge while Slagar's not here. There's to be no noise, see. We don't want any creature who's out searching to hear anything. Now you just behave yourself, or I'll lay this cane across your back, rat."

Vitch slumped against the windowsill, snivelling, but he obeyed the weasel's order.

Mattimeo looked about. There were others chained up around the walls: mice, squirrels, hedgehogs, all of them young creatures. He saw Tim and Tess and Sam Squirrel chained against the far wail. Fetters clanking, he waved to them.

80.

"Sam, Tim, Tess, how did we get here?" he asked.

"Silence there!"

Halftail the stoat shouted, and pointed a dagger warningly at Mattimeo. "Shuttup, mouse. You've been told once. Save your breath, you're going to need it for marching."

When Halftail moved out of earshot, a young badger chained next to Mattimeo whispered, "That's Halftail. Watch him, he's a cruel one. My name is Auma from the west plains. What's yours?"

"Mattimeo, son of Matthias the Redwall Warrior."

"Oh, so you're the one that Slagar was after."

"Slagar?"

"Yes, the Sly One, the hooded fox," Auma explained. "This lot are a band of slave traders. Though where they're taking us I don't know."

"Ooh, where am I? Take these chains off me. Boo-hoohoo, I want to go home, boohoohoo!"

It was Cynthia Bankvole. She had just awakened, chained to the other side of Auma.

Threedaws came hurrying over. He thrust his villainous face right up against Cynthia's tearful whiskers.

"One more peep out of you, missie, and I'll really give you something to cry about. Now cut out the whimpering."

Cynthia was struck dumb with terror.

Slagar came bounding in through the broken south window, the silken hood plastered wetiy against his muzzle. He shook himself vigorously, showering rainwater about him.

"By the claw, if s bouncing down in torrents out there. Still, all the better for us. If we get going fast then there'll be no tracks to cover. They won't know which direction we've taken. On the other side of the leaf, that lot at Redwall will have been wakened by this downpour, so we can't afford to hang around. The false trail to the north should keep them busy for a while. Deadnose and 81.

Fengal have taken the cart up that way, then they'll circle around and meet us in the forest south of here."

Bageye lounged in a pew. "What if they don't, Chief? Suppose they miss us? That wood out there is a big place, /know."

The face beneath the hood seemed to grin. "Well, hard luck on them. If II mean bigger shares for all of us."