An hour had gone by. Pikkle and Mara curled up in the soft sand, sleeping peacefully through the high golden afternoon without as much as a breeze to disturb them. Swinkee's eyes popped open and he watched them for a moment. a.s.suring himself that they were sleeping soundly, he slid away, hissing to himself, "Kksss, pulla my tail off, hit Swinkee, sleep inna my cave, rabbit V stripedog tella me lies 'bout swampflies. I do show 'em, theya mess with lizard nomore, kksss!"

13.

The beauty of the soft golden summer morning following the previous night's storm was lost on the inhabitants of Redwall Abbey. Nameday sports had been canceled and sadness and shock hung like a shroud over everything. Samkim sat alone in the Infirmary, numb with disbelief. Was poor Brother Hal actually dead? Who had done the awful deed? The young squirrel knew nothing of what went on outside the Infirmary, as he had been hastily escorted up there by Friar Bellows and Abbess Vale immediately after being discovered by the Brother's body, bow in paw. They had made him promise to stay put and speak to n.o.beast until investigations were under way.

While the Redwallers took their breakfast outside on the lawn, a meeting was convened in Cavern Hole. In the smaller, more intimate surrounding of the room that was separated from Great Hall by a downward flight of steps, the Abbess, Fore-mole, Hollyberry, Bremmun and Nasturtium gathered to discuss events. Bremmun pushed away his untouched breakfast.

"Friends, it staggers belief: Brother Hal dead! Where is young Samkim now?"

Abbess Vale held up a paw for silence. "He is confined to the Infirmary. Now, Bremmun, we are all as shocked and 98.

99.

saddened by Hal's death as you are, but please let us not say anything in haste or jump to conclusions that we may be sorry about later. So, has anybeast got something to tell us that we do not already know-and let me add, we know little or nothing of what took place, except that poor Hal is no longer with us."

Sister Nasturtium spoke up. "I cannot contribute any evidence, Mother Abbess, but I must say what I feel in my heart. I do not think that there is a single Redwaller who believes that Samkim would be so careless as to endanger another's life. It would be horrible to even think of accusing him."

The Abbess folded her paws into wide habit sleeves. "I agree with you, Sister, and no one has accused him yet."

Bremmun disagreed. "Friar Bellows told me that when he found Samkim standing over Hal with a bow in his paws he said to him, 'Samkim, what have you done?' "

Brother Hollyberry interrupted Bremmun. "Aye, and the young un didn't say a word. It was as if he was struck dumb by the shock of it all. But I have something to tell that may throw some light on things. Those two stoats, Dingeye and Thura-has anybeast seen them this morning, because they weren't in their beds when I woke up."

Foremole stood up decisively. "Hurr, then you'm gudd-beasts stay yurr whoil oi go'n foind 'em. May'ap they do know sumthern."

"Vermin!" Bremmun ground his teeth aloud.

The Abbess rapped the tabletop sharply. "Bremmun, there you go again. I can see you are ready to condemn Dingeye and Thura without any proof or evidence. This must stop instantly. Redwall has a reputation for goodwill, justice and fair play. We are here to uphold it!"

Bremmun made a shamefaced apology. To save him further embarra.s.sment, Hollyberry opened a parchment upon the table. "Frair Bellows gave me this. It was in Brother Hal's paw."

They read the record written down long seasons ago and by simple process of deduction came to the same conclusion that Hal had.

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Saiamcmdastron 101.

Nasturtium spoke for them all. "Well, now we know how the sword of Martin was found by Samkin-the lightning tore it from the weathervane and it fell to earth. To what purpose, I wonder?"

Foremole came trundling back in, shaking his head. "Ev-erybeast be a-searchen for they stoaters, but yurr this. Mar-then's gurt swoard be gone too. Oi 'spect enfurmation any moment naow."

Bremmun's angry voice broke the shocked silence. "The great sword of Martin the Warrior gone? Those filthy thieving vermin! They'll pay dearly for this when we lay paws on 'em. Why, I'd like to . . . "

Indignant voices joined the squirrel until the Abbess rapped the tabletop sharply to restore order.

"Silence, please." She held up a paw. "We won't get anywhere shouting and threatening."

There was a knock upon the door and Tudd Spinney entered. "Mornin' to ye all. Sorry I can't say good mornin', 'cos it's not. Foremole, did you check all the wallgate locks last night?"

Foremole nodded vigorously. "Oi allus do, maister, wi'out fail."

Tudd shook his walking stick. "I knew ye did, 'cos you're a good V thorough feller. Well, I've just checked the wall-gates an' the east one is unlocked!"

In the silence that followed, Foremole ticked off further information on his paws. "Burr hurr, an' food fer young uns is gone from Gurt' All, an' thurr be arrers a-sticken in table an' sporty 'quipment tossed all o'er the place."

Abbess Vale stood up. "As soon as we have laid Brother Hal to rest in the grounds, we will organize a party to search for the stoats and bring them back here! Now I must go straightaway to Samkim to tell he has nothing to reproach himself for. He'll need some comforting after the death of poor Hal."

But Arula had been listening at the keyhole and was already on her way to the Infirmary.

The midmorning sun shone down brightly on a sad little ceremony in the grounds of Redwall Abbey. Brother Hal was laid to his final rest amid much mourning. There were wreaths and posies of wild flowers and small tokens from his friends. Thrugann reverently placed a small quill pen in tribute to the Recorder of the Abbey, and Baby Dumble put his favorite straw mousedoll alongside it on the neat heap of earth surrounded by brightly colored pebbles. Mrs. Faith Spinney recited a few lines: "Your seasons have run their course, old friend. In your goodlife we were proud to take part, But in springtimes unborn and summers to come, You will live in each Redwaller's heart."

While the ceremony took place at the west lawn, a rope snaked downward from a first-floor window at the east side of the Abbey building. Samkim and Arula were down on the ground in a twinkling and running for the east wallgate. Beside a haversack of provisions apiece, Samkim carried a quiver of arrows and the bow that had fired the shaft which struck Brother Hal down. Arula had a big pruning knife and a sling with a pouch of pebbles. They opened the small wall-gate quickly and let themselves out into the leafy depths of Mossflower Woods.

After the ceremony. Brother Hollyberry and the Abbess made their way up to the Infirmary. The Abbess dried her eyes on a spotted kerchief.

"Oh, Brother, I can understand how poor Samkim was too upset to attend Brother Hal's last resting. Well, maybe it will *.. be some consolation to him that we've recommended his ;.;; name to Thrugg as a member of the search party for those t two stoats."

The Infirmary door was wide open. Hollyberry entered, ^; looked around the empty room and picked up a pillowcase ,

- with a badly scrawled charcoal message written on it: 102.

"The stoats are the ones what did it. We will fetch them back and 'the sword too. Tell Friar Bellows it was not me. Do not worry, me and Arula will be all right. Samkim."

The Abbess produced a kerchief and wiped her eyes. "Hol-lyberry, they may be in danger, we cannot let them go alone."

The old Infirmary keeper took the kerchief and dried Vale's eyes. "We have to. I feel that the sword of Martin did not fall from the roof to land at Samkim's side for nothing. He is marked by destiny and the sign from our Abbey spirit. Call off the search party, Vale. Let us put our trust in two young friends and Martin the Warrior."

The sun started its inexorable descent into the horizon far out to sea. At the close of a long hot day the sky remained cloudless. Salamandastron's monolithic rock took on a somber purple aspect against the dusty fawn of the darkening sh.o.r.eline.

Hares of the Long Patrol watched from the top of the crater. Armed and alert, each one silently surveyed the torchlit horde advancing steadily through the dunes. Myriad pinp.r.i.c.ks of light, like a river of stars fallen to earth, were separating in the distance like the horns of some great animal, closing in to surround the mountain.

Ferahgo the a.s.sa.s.sin was coming to Salamandastron!

A young female hare named Pennybright swallowed nervously as she fidgeted with the string of her bow. Big Oxeye patted her gently as he pa.s.sed. "Steady in the ranks there, Penny."

He moved on to another youngster, Sh.o.r.ebuck, who was sorting out his best slingstones. Oxeye nodded approvingly. "That's the ticket, young feller. First battle, is it?"

"Yes, sir. I've decided to choose good stones an' give a good account of m'self to those vermin."

Oxeye grinned. "Did the same m'self when I was a nipper like you."

"D'you think they'll take long gettin' here, sir?" Sh.o.r.e-buck tested his sling with an experimental twirl.

103.

"Don't fret, laddie. When they do, I'll be right by your side."

Sh.o.r.ebuck relaxed slightly, comforted by the veteran fighter's presence. Keeping his eyes on the advancing lights, he murmured, "No sign of Lord Urthstripe yet. Where d'you suppose he is?"

"Oh, he'll be around somewheres, gettin' ready an' whatnot. Stay awake now, supper should be round any moment now. Y'don't want to miss that, wot?"

Oxeye moved on around the vantage points, murmuring encouragement, his solid presence radiating calm and good humor to the fighters of the Long Patrols.

Inside the mountain stronghold of Salamandastron pa.s.sageways hewn through the living rock led off caves and chambers. Some were lit by torches, others illuminated from window slits, giving the entire place the air of some vast primeval warren. At the end of one such corridor a large rock slab had been rolled aside, and lantern light cast a warm glow upon the smooth stone face of the chamber where Urthstripe stood. This was the place where he sought solitude when his mind was troubled. All around the walls the record and history of Salamandastron and its badger Lords was depicted in intricate carvings: Brocktree, Spearlady Gorse, Bluestripe the Wild, Ceteruler the Wise, Boar the Fighter, Sunstripe the Mace . .. they were all there. It was a place of mystery, heavy with the ages of badger lore.

Urthstripe set the lantern on a ledge and picked up a fine pointed chisel. Selecting a clear s.p.a.ce on the flat rock wall, he began carving the likeness of himself into the stone. As he cut skillfully into the rock he reached into his forge ap.r.o.n and produced a pawful of herbs. These he sprinkled over the flame-heated sides of the lantern. Soon the cave was filled with a swirling gray smoke that carried with it a smell of autumnal woodlands. The badger Lord began chanting, the words forming in his mind as he gouged trancelike at the wallstone: "Seas and lifespans, ebbing, flowing, Past and future merge as one.

104 Mountain Rulers, coming, going, Seasons future, seasons gone. Badger Warriors from the shades Stand beside me, guide my paw. O wise Lords and gentle maids, Restrain my rage, preserve our law."

Sergeant Sapwood left off stacking lances at a concealed window slit on the lower level. He accepted the bowl of hot mushroom and leek soup from a small wiry hare who carried two short swords strapped across his shoulders. Together they sat on the windowledge and took supper, watching the seemingly endless torchlight procession flooding from the dunes into the moonless night.

Sapwood blew on his soup to cool it, his strong face expressionless. "Do you think they 'ope ter scare us, Thistle?"

Bart Thistledown of the Westsh.o.r.e Thistledowns stared languidly down his long aristocratic nose at the lights bobbing and flickering in two p.r.o.ngs toward the mountain. "Actually, it all looks rather pretty, doncha think, Sap. Though if I were those flippin' vermin I'd be gettin' a good night's sleep instead of paradin' round like a flock of fireflies goin' courtin'. Darnfools, if y'ask me, old fellow!"

"Cor you talk luvly, Thistle." Sapwood chuckled admiringly. "Yer a cool one, all right. Hi'11 say that for ye."

Thistledown sniffed disdainfully. "Bad form t' get one's ears in an uproar over vermin, wot?''

Klitch shook his head in disapproval. "Well, if they didn't know we were coming before, they certainly know now. All these torches-it's foolish!"

Ferahgo's blue eyes twinkled in the torchlight. "They'll see us all right. I want them to. Can't you see it's a show of strength? Each of our creatures is carrying two torches, and that makes it look like double our numbers. Also, they can see the torchlights, but from this distance they don't know if we're foxes or frogs, ferrets or toads, big or small, badly or Sahmandastron 105.

well armed. That will have them guessing and worried too. They know we're here, but they won't see us. Now watch this, my young and still wet behind the ears son."

Ferahgo gave a piercing whistle and upended both his torches in the sand, extinguishing them immediately. Every member of the horde followed his example. All around Sal-amandastron the lights went out as if by magic.

"Now they know we're here, but they can't see us." Ferahgo settled down in the sand, grinning with satisfaction. "We can sleep until dawn, but they'll have to stay awake and alert."

Klitch dumped his torches head down in the sand. "I still think it's a stupid move. I've told you, these are trained fighters. They know all the tricks in the book."

Of the two weasels, Klitch was to prove right.

"Right, chaps an' chapesses, lights out an' heads down, wot!" Big Oxeye had caught on to Ferahgo's plan. As he watched from the crater top he tossed aside his sling scornfully. "Huh, they must think we came ash.o.r.e in buckets, brainless buffoons! Seawood, post six sentries. The rest of you can get a bit of jolly old shuteye until dawn."

Lantern shadows flickered around the hidden cave as the badger Lord stirred his powerful frame. The smoke from the herbs had cleared away, and Urthstripe rubbed his eyes and yawned as if coming out of a deep sleep. Casting aside the chisel, he picked up the lantern and held it close to the wall, where it illuminated the fresh carvings. The badger Lord's gruff voice echoed around the cave as he translated the pictures aloud: "Two badgers. This small one-it's my Mara, I'm sure. This other one, is it me? No, it cannot be. I have stripes, he has none."

The mountain Lord's eyes clouded over. He shook his head as half-forgotten images flitted through his mind.

"Strange, a badger without stripes .. . Without stripes?"

He blinked, turning his attention back to the wall.

106.

"What's this? Vermin eyes? Yes, they're the eyes of vermin-two pair, probably weasel's. The round thing between them, is it the moon or the sun? No, it has carving on but I cannot see, it is too small and fine. Ah, here is a sword, the weapon of a warrior, and here am I, Urthstripe, Lord of Sal-amandastron."

Next to the figure of Urthstripe a few lines were written in Badger rune. He narrowed his eyes, studying them.

Faintheart shall be made strong, But a warrior's fate for the mountain Lord. Blue eyes brings battle ere long, Whilst the maid comes of her own accord. The mount shall be ruled by badger kin, The sword shall make Mossflower free The Abbey will take its Guardian in Far from this rock by the sea.

Urthstripe stood tall, his brooding eyes alight with the knowledge of his own fate. He felt as though the heavy paw of destiny had touched him, but the thought of a coming war seemed to obliterate all feelings of sadness or fear.

Sapwood's voice cut into his thoughts as it boomed hoi-lowly along the chamber pa.s.sage, "It's three hours t' dawn, sir. Those vermin are all haround us, surroundin' the mountain. Everybeast is in position, waitin' on your word, shall Hi tell 'em yore comin', sir?"

The badger Lord unfastened his forge ap.r.o.n. "They will see me in the hour of dawn, Sergeant, and I will see them. Then we will take a look at this vermin horde in good plain morning light. Lay out my armor, helm, sword and spear!"

Dingeye and Thura headed south through Mossflower Woods. They had a good head start and made the most of it, knowing that once Brother Hal's body was discovered, together with the loss of the sword, pursuit by the creatures of Redwall would be inevitable. The forest was tall, green and silent, save for the rustle of leaves and trill of birdsong.

Dingeye had been forging ahead, slashing and chopping at fem and nettle with his newly acquired weapon. As midday drew near, Thura was lagging noticeably. His companion wiped the blade of the wondrous sword on his sleeve as he waited impatiently for him, calling back through the serried columns of treetrunks, "Move yerself, mucker. c.u.mmon, stir yer stumps, stoatnose!"

Thura wiped his brow. Leaning against an oak, he breathed heavily. "I've got t' rest, Ding. Don't know wot's wrong wi' roe. I feels all done in. Must've been that bath they made me take."

Dingeye sneered and took a swipe at a pa.s.sing b.u.t.terfly with the sword, admiring the flashing green lights as its blade glinted in the sunlight filtering through the emerald canopy. "Gam! I got bathed, too, an' it didn't 'urt me. Now get yer paws a-movin', or I'll leave yer be'ind. 'Urry up!"

107.

108.

Thura's face was an unhealthy grayish pallor, his limbs trembled and sweat beaded on his nosetip as he stumbled to keep up, calling out to his comrade, "Slow down, mucker. You wouldn't leave me 'ere ter be catchered by that lot from Redhall. 'Ere, carry the vittles an' I'll be able to get along a mite better."

"Carry vittles?" Dingeye pulled a lip and slashed moodily at a young rowan tree. "Huh, not likely. You took 'em, you carry 'em. I've got me paws full luggin' this 'ere sword around. Tell yer wot, though, we'll stop awhile an' 'ave lunch. That'll make less food ter carry."

Gratefully Thura let the sack of provisions drop as he collapsed in a heap at the edge of a small clearing. Dingeye immediately set about stuffing himself with honey, bread and nuts from the sack, ignoring Thura's pitiful state.

"Lissen, we can't stop 'ere too long, they'll be on our trail by now. Still, we've escaped before an' we c'n do it again. We'll stick to this forest-it's better'n flatlands, more cover."

Thura curled into a ball, shivering uncontrollably, his teeth chattering and his tail quivering fitfully. Dingeye stopped eating and prodded him.

"Hah, yer wobblin' about like a baldy beetle there. Just look at yer, mucker. Wot's the matter?"

Thura's head went up and down as he stammered a reply. "S-s-sick! I-I-I'm s-s-sick, feel b-b-b-bad!"

Instinctively Dingeye drew away from him. "Is it a fever? 'Ave yer got a fever? Huh, you look awful!"

"H-h-h-elp me!" Thura stretched out a trembling paw.

Dingeye shouldered the sack. "Oh, come on then, I'll carry the vittles. But I'm not carryin' you, stoat. I don't wanna catch no fever." He took a few paces and looked back angrily at Thura curled up on the woodland floor. "Well, are yer comin' or aren't yer, 'cos I'm not 'angin' round 'ere waitin' for yer!"

Thura made no reply. Dingeye sniffed moodily. "All right then, you stop 'ere awhile till yer feelin' better. I won't go too fast so that y'can catch up with me."

Still receiving no reply from his companion, he set off into the forest, traveling south and slightly west, talking aloud to Solamandos Iron 109.

rea.s.sure himself. "Must be somethin' he's et, greedy oF toad. Prob'Iy catch me up ter night when 'e gets hungry again."

The trial of the two stoats was not difficult to follow. Samkim and Arula could see plainly the slashed and damaged vegetation which Dingeye had hacked at with the sword. Despite the urgency of their mission, neither of the two young ones could help noticing the beauty of Mossflower, draped in summer green and studded with small islands of color from flowering bush and shrub. Their paws made little or no sound as they padded along over the carpet of soft brown leaf loam. Samkim pointed ahead to where a strip of bark had been wantonly sliced from the trunk of a white willow, exposing the pale sapped wood beneath.

"Easy to see which way they went. Look at that." Arula nodded. "Urr, Foremole'd tan thurr 'ides for doen that to a livin' tree. Ho urr, they'm surely two nastybeasts." Samkim touched the trunk, noting the dampness of sap on his paw. "If we travel a little faster we may catch them up by late afternoon. They can't be too far ahead. Come on, Arula."

"No need to worry, young Redwallers, hen heh heh!" The thin reedy voice had come from nowhere. Samkim and Arula halted, staring at the leafy screen about them.