Mellus tickled his ribs until he giggled and squirmed. "Oh no you won't, bucko. My pies and cakes are quite 47.

safe cooling alone on the windowsills. Though I once recall a certain Abbot when he was a Dibbun, spent three days in sickbay after guarding those windowsills. The greedy little snip-do you remember him, Saxtus?"

The Father Abbot of all Redwall applied himself to a plate of summercream pudding, pretending he had not heard.

The evening wore on until the Dibbuns began yawning, one or two coming perilously close to falling facedown upon their plates with drooping eyes. Saxtus stood and rang his little bell.

"Anybeast on dormitory duty, please take the Dibbuns up!"

Wails of protest arose from the fretful babes. "Yaah, not fair, s'not fair, us allus 'ave t'go t'bed!"

"I wish us big uns could go off to bed right now," said Oak Tom, pulling a long face of comic dismay. "We have to stay up and wash pots 'n' pans V dishes clean for morning."

Tarquin L. Woodsorrel flapped his ears in agreement. "Indeed, scout, 'tis a rough old life bein' a big un, wot? P'raps the Dibbuns aren't really sleepy; what say they stay up an' help? Bet they'd make jolly good pot washers, eh?"

There was a sudden clatter of chairs and benches as the panicked Dibbuns dashed for the stairs yelling, "Gu'-night, Father Abbot, 'night 'night everybeast. We goin' abed!" They scampered up the stairs amid peals of laughter.

Flooding evening sunlight had now dimmed to a golden filter, illuminating the tapestry depicting Martin the War- .

nor which hung upon the wall of Great Hall. Saxtus felt himself arise unbidden from his Abbot's chair. He went to stand behind the Bellmaker. A dreamy feeling he could not explain had cast its mantle over the Abbot; it was as if time and the earth were standing still. A great silence lay upon the big chamber: golden dust motes hung lazily on the still air, gleaming in the last faded yellow sunrays. Amid the tangible hush Red wallers sat immobile, each in their place, like figures captured in eternity upon some vast canvas. Across the peace that lay over all, Saxtus heard his own voice. It was low, yet the sound carried from floor to roofbeam, reaching every shadowed corner of Great Hall.

"My friends, I have something to say to you. Of late Joseph, our Bellmaker, has been thinking deeply about his daughter, Mariel, and her companion, Dandin. I know that all Redwallers remember both those mice with great fondness; I certainly do. Dandin and I were brought up together, like brothers, in tlu's very Abbey. Scarcely a day pa.s.ses when I will not see somewhere we played together, and then I think of him, off on adventures with Mariel the Warriormaid. Alas, there has been no news of them for more than four seasons now. Where are they? I think Joseph may provide us with some help. Last night he was visited in a dream by Martin the Warrior"

To Joseph, the Abbot's voice behind him sounded like a distant murmur. He had not heard a word that was said. Now that Saxtus had finished speaking, every eye was turned upon the Bellmaker. He sat upright, staring hard at the likeness of Martin upon the tapestry. Saxtus watched him-Joseph's lips were moving slowly as if he were holding a conversation with somebeast. The room 49.

became dark; Saxtus watched as dusk heralded nightfall. The sun's final ray reflected through a high window, wreathing the form of Joseph in a fleeting nimbus of light. Saxtus recalled the lines of the rhyme: "At daylight's last gleam you'll remember."

Then the daylight was gone.

Candles and walltorches burned bright as Joseph stood and looked about him.

"Listen now, and I will speak as Martin the Warrior told me!"

It was much cooler among the green hills of the scrubland. Mariel, Dandin, and Bowly took a leisurely lunch from the supplies they had commandeered from the two weasels. The travelers rested, half napping as they lay back on a mossy hillock, listening to the high trill of a skylark backed by the drone of bees and the dry chirrup of gra.s.shoppers. Dandin was the first to hear other noises; shaking himself out of a semi-torpor, he cupped an ear to the light breeze.

"Listen. Can you hear it, Mariel? Sounds like some-beasts doing a bit of roaring and shouting somewhere."

Mariel prodded the sleeping Bowly firmly on his snout. "Stop snoring and do something useful; sit up and tell us what you can hear-come on, dozybones!"

The young hedgehog sat up, snuffling and grumbling. "Call y'selves friends? Huh, won't even let a young warrior 'ave 'is slumber. You'll stunt me growth wakin' me like that." Bowly had very sharp hearing, and he a.s.sessed the situation in a trice.

53.

"Sounds like some creatures tormentin' a mole. See that big hill yonder, third one goin' south to the right? I reckons it's comin' from ahind of there."

Moles were friendly. No one hesitated. Mariel readied her Gullwhacker, and Dandin drew his dagger. Bowly sighed aloud, picking up his two hard oatcakes as he followed them on their way to the big hill. "Time for trouble agin. Mercy me, somebeasts got no consideration at all. Coin' gittin' theirselves into distress jus' when it's warriors' nappin' time!"

Bowly was correct. It was a fat old mole in trouble. Six gray rats were trying to bind him with gra.s.s ropes. The old creature was giving a good account of himself, but the rats were overwhelming him, prodding him with spears as they looped the coils about him and struggled to get a halter round his neck. Nearby three small young moles were weeping in distress, closely guarded by a seventh rat.

The old mole pulled a paw loose as he roared, "You'm vurmints, oi'll never tug moi snout to no foxerwulf, ee Squirrelyking be the oandly one oi bow to, hurr!"

They had not yet seen the three friends. "Me and Mariel will take the six who have the old fellow," Dandin whispered to Bowly. "D'you reckon you could deal with that rat guarding the young uns?"

Not stopping to answer, Bowly hefted one of his oatcakes and flung it hard with amazing accuracy. It whacked the rat solidly across the jaw, dropping him in a heap. The young hedgehog grinned from ear to ear. "I done that. Dandy. Wot next?"

All activity below ceased as the six rats turned to stare up at the intruders. Dandin sighed in resignation. "Bowly, you might have waited until I gave the word-we've completely lost the element of surprise."

Mariel had her Gullwhacker ready as they strode down to confront the rats. She addressed the one who looked like their Captain. "You, frognose, get your filthy paws off that mole!"

The rat leered crookedly at her. "Well, well, what have we here, a little mouseymaid? What's your name, pretty one?"

The Gullwhacker belted him square in the mouth and he sat down hard, spitting out a broken fang. Mariel smiled. "Should have whacked you over the ears; it would have cleared some of the muck from them. I never asked for compliments-I told you to let the mole go."

"You've just signed your death warrant, mouse," said the rat, wiping a trickle of blood from his mouth. "There's more than seven of us. You'll see!" He blew several sharp blasts on a bone whistle which hung from his neck, but before he could blow more, a kick from the old mole felled him. Knowing reinforcements would be arriving promptly, Mariel and Dandin hurled themselves headlong at the remaining five rats.

"Redwaaaaaalllll!"

Sheathing his dagger, Dandin tripped the first rat and grabbed the spear from his claws as he fell. Using the spear b.u.t.t as a club, he set about belaboring the grounded rat furiously. Mariel tangled the footpaws of another in the coils of her Gullwhacker, whipping it free to punish him with the hard knotted end. Bowly leaped on the back of a third rat, striking hard with his remaining oatcake.

Reinforcements arrived in the form of ten more rats dashing over the hill. Mariel saw them coming and rapped 54 55.

out a swift order: "Form foursquare around the little moles. Quick!"

They dashed to obey, facing outward with the young moles at their center. Dandin brandished the spear, jabbing. Mariel swung her rope in an arc, daring any rat to step within its range. Bowly and the old mole had picked up spear and sword; growling, they waved the weapons wildly. The rats who had been felled began to recover and rise, hopelessly outnumbering the four defenders. A rat leaped back, sneering, as Dandin jabbed out with his spear.

The Captain whose fang Mariel had knocked out staggered upright, wiping blood from his chin. "You'll wish you'd never interfered with Captain Bragglin of Nagru's horde. Hitting me with that rope was the biggest mistake of your life, mouse!"

Some of the rats had bows. They began fitting shafts to their bowstrings in readiness. Dandin shook his head. "Bowly, I told you it was wrong to knock that rat down before we had a chance to size up the situation."

Quivering with antic.i.p.ation, the rats began slowly closing in on the little party. For the first time Bowly's swaggering att.i.tude deserted him and his voice sounded small and frightened. "Taint much fun bein' a warrior; looks like we're nigh to gettin' ourselves slayed!"

Mariel knew Bowly's words to be true. But desperate situations call for reckless remedies: the mousemaid hurled herself into action with lightning ferocity.

s.n.a.t.c.hing the dagger from Dandin's belt she clamped it firmly between her teeth, then, thundering forward, she struck hard, left, right, and center with the Gullwhacker. Totally unprepared for such an aggressive move, several -rats were floored by hefty blows. They fell, b.u.mping into : others and knocking arrows awry from bowstrings. For the second time in a short s.p.a.ce Captain Bragglin found himself in the path of Mariel's weapon. She swung it in a vicious arc, thudding the knot into his stomach. His mouth gaped wide as the breath was belted from him in a loud whoosh. Before the rats had time to recover, Mariel had thrown herself upon their Captain. She held the dagger point at his trembling gullet, roaring wildly, "Don't even think about moving, or this sc.u.m dies!"

As the attackers froze in their tracks, Bragglin shouted, "Be still, don't make any false moves! Grinj, cover her!" The rat called Grinj was an experienced archer. As the rest stood stock-still he slid close to Mariel, an arrow straining against his taut bowstring. Bragglin managed to gasp against the daggertip tickling his throat, "Kill her if she moves this blade a fraction!"

Dandin heaved a loud sigh of dismay. It was a standoff. Noontide shimmered over the gra.s.s-topped sandhills as both parties stood poised in a silent tableau.

"This'n's a right oF mess we be gotten into," said

: Bowly, shooting Dandin a pleading glance. "Wot's a

, warrior supposed to do now, Dandy?" t Dandin knew the situation rested on a daggertip and an *$fc^ *-'+-*

^arrowhead. Squinting up at the high hot orb of the sun he

whispered calmly, "Learn patience and obedience, that's

"the way of the warrior. Don't show fear, Bowly; stand up

;*traight and wait for the next move-but be ready when m- it comes!"

'Hail the conquering Foxwolf-you drooling idiot!" The Urgan Nagru ducked as a bowl clanged against the 56 .

banqueting chamber door. Wincing with the pain of his injuries, he hobbled to one side as Silvamord flung a three-branched candlestick.

"One day that poisoned tongue'll be the death of you, vixen!" the Foxwolf snarled dangerously. Limping to his chair, he slumped down and began tugging gingerly with his teeth at a long whitebeam splinter embedded in his paw. Silvamord continued her tirade.

"I could have caught them, but what did you do, clev-erbrush? Tried to drown me in the moat! Nagru the nit-brain, that's you, the fool who chases his own tail!"

Nagru spat the splinter at her venomously. "Ahh, give your s...o...b..ring mouth a rest, clattergob, letting yourself be pulled out the window by a big, dumb badger!"

The rat horde sat in the courtyard, some licking their wounds, others slaking their thirst from the dwindling cellars of the castle. Sounds of furious argument rang out from the banqueting chamber windows high above their heads.

Fillch, one of the rats, looked up from the honey-preserved chestnuts he was sharing with his companion Sourgall. "Big dumb badger, eh? That one didn't need to talk. She slew eight of ours with a tree limb it'd take ten of us to lift!"

Sourgall had remained behind to fish Silvamord from the moat. He looked Fillch up and down slowly. "Huh, she didn't 'urt yew, matey. Where were yer? Leadin' from be'ind, I'll bet."

"Aye, an' so would yew 'ave been, bucko. We nearly 'ad the otter, that'd fought like a madbeast while the others escaped. Then that badger was in the middle of us, swingin' an 'arf of a tree! Where d'yer expect me t' be,

57.

eh? Drigg, Flokky, Big Bragtail an' five others got in the badger's way, and they ain't around t'tell the story no more. You ask Hooktail if y'don't believe me. Ain't that right, mate?"

The rat in question had lost an ear. He was using a poultice of dockleaves bound with earth and water to staunch the wound. "Gaah!" he groaned. "It's all right you sittin' there makin' clever remarks, Sourgall. You wasn't there. Even the Urgan Nagru took to 'is paws an* limped off like a flogged toad. I tell yer, mate, you wouldn't 'ave thought it was the same stoopid badger that played nursemaid to the fiddle squirrelbrat. That beast came after us with a full tree in 'er paws, even though we filled 'er with arrers like a pincushion!"

A rat named Flangor joined the conversation. "Wot d'yew suppose Foxwolf'II do now, mates?"

The one called Riveneye put aside the cider he had been swilling and snorted, "Hah, you should know the Urgan by now, mate. Nagru won't rest 'til their skulls are bleachin' in the sun. Ol' Foxwolf'll hunt 'em 'til 'e gets every last one in those iron claws. Then we know wot 'e'll do with 'em, don't we?"

A shudder ran through every rat within earshot. They had seen what Nagru did to his captured enemies.

Riveneye's guess was right. Nagru was preparing to hunt the fugitives down. As evening shades drew the hot day to a close, he sat wincing as he flexed his injured limbs. The wolfhide across his back was still littered with whitebeam splinters. Silvamord sat watching him, unmoved by his plight.

The Foxwolf glared at her. "What're you staring at .

now, firogeyes? Make yourself useful; get me a beaker of wine!"

"Get it yourself, jellyfish!" said the vixen, curling her lip in disdain. "So, an old badger and a single otter thrashed the living daylights out of you and your killers! Tell me again, how many did they slay?"

Nagru's eyes blazed pure hatred at her. "They never defeated us; they staggered off so full of arrows and covered with wounds that they're long dead now. If I hadn't been injured, I'd have followed them and skinned their hides off to bring back and show you!"

Silvamord laughed humorlessly. "Just like you skinned the wolf that had been frozen dead half a season so that you could take its skin and name? Oh, don't act surprised. I saw you. I'll wager your horde wouldn't be so quick in following you if they knew the truth about the great Ur-gan Nagru."

The iron claws of the Foxwolf shot out, pointing at her. "One word from you, blabbermouth, and I'll rip the tongue from your head and make you eat it. That's a promise!"

"You don't scare me," sneered Silvamord, pouring wine for herself and sipping daintily. "I know you too well. What does bother me is that Queen and her brat- they're still free. You'd do better to get out there and capture them before they raise the whole of Southsward up in arms against us."

Nagru walked carefully over to the table. Pouring himself a beaker of wine, he brought his face close to the vixen's. His voice dripped sarcasm. "That's what I fully intend doing, my beautiful and beloved one. Meanwhile, you can sit here, where you are safe and comfortable. Oh, 59.

keep an eye on Gael Squirrelking, will you? I presume you weren't silly enough to have killed him in my absence?"

Silvamord eyed him levelly. "Gael is not the problem. I had him tossed into one of his own dungeons-he could be dead or alive, I don't care. Now, are you going to hang about here until we both grow old, or are you going to do something about Serena and her little Truffen?"

They remained for a moment a hairbreadth apart, eyes locked. Then, as if on an impulse, Nagru strode off to the window. He stared down at the horderats who were lying slumped on the stone courtyard, still warm from the day's heat. The Foxwolf brought them scurrying upright as he howled down at them: "Sourgall, you and forty others stay behind on guard! Bladenose, Riveneye, get the rest ready for a hunt! Mingol, Vengro, get my Dirgecallers ready!"

The horde kept silent, mentally thanking the fates that they had not been chosen to be in charge of the fearsome Dirgecallers, the Fox wolf's legendary trackers. Mingol and Vengro were speechless, their mouths dry with fear.

Serena and Truffen rested beneath a willow on the stream- ;

5ank, the infant sitting in his mother's lap. Their food lay untouched. Together they watched a comet streaking its brilliant tail across the soft, dark night. Otter patrols ;swam, sleek and silent, back and forth on the broad ^Stream, alert for any strange sound in their territory.

Greenbeck, a big male, slid smoothly onto the bank be- Iside the squirrels. Dipping a bowl into the steaming pot tof hotroot and watershrimp soup, beloved of otters, he 6o .

61.

offered it with an encouraging smile. "C'mon, marm, try some. It's good!"

Serena averted her eyes from the food. "No, thank you, friend. I cannot bring myself to eat, not knowing if King Gael is alive or dead."

"Good vittles, marm. Eat an' the liddle feller will, too. You must take care o' him," Greenbeck persisted, nudging the bowl forward. "Lookit Iris, she don't know what's become o' Rab, but she eats to keep up 'er strength. Iris won't give up 'ope, an' neither should you, if y'll excuse me sayin', marm."

Serena smiled wanly at the loyal otter. Taking the soup, she broke fresh barleybread and dipped it in, saying, "Look, Truffen, supper-make you big and strong!"

The little fellow ate, staring up at his mother's face. "Where Papa an' 'Uta?"

Serena ate to avoid answering the question, but the good food stuck in her throat as tears overflowed on her face. Iris appeared at the Queen's side, patting her gently.

"Hush now. Don't let the babe see you upset. It's hard, I know, though I hope that my Rab and your Muta took lots of those murderers with them. Be Like your son, Serena; eat and grow strong. Someday we will return to Castle Floret and avenge our loved ones."

The Squirrelqueen ate, staring into the night-dark stream. "I am not leaving Southsward country. I will stay to stand against Nagru and Silvamord."

Iris sat beside Serena, a worried look on her kind face. "We must leave Southsward now-we are too few, my friend. One day we shall come back in force; at the moment we would sacrifice our lives needlessly against the Fox wolf's great horde."

Serena remained adamant. "Some help will come to us. I feel it. We must stay and get others in Southsward to support our cause."

"My Rab wanted you and Truffen out of this land," said Iris, shrugging hopelessly. "It has become a place of evil. But if you are determined to stay, then the otters will stay also. I will not desert you-we have always been loyal to your family. Though if we stay, I fear that only death awaits us."

Truffen looked up from his soup. "Stay an' make Na-g'u dead!"

Iris settled down to rest. "Aye, make Nagru dead, little one. Who knows, maybe you an' your mama are right. Perhaps there may be warriors we have yet to meet who can help us do just that. I hope they show up soon, whoever they are."

Peace fell over the otter camp. Gently lapping water and the still-warm night had cast its spell over the weary fugitives. Serena and Iris lay side by side with Truffen between them, all three mercifully deep in slumber after the day's harrowing events. Truffen would not remember his dream next morning, and even if he did the squirrel-.;. babe was far too young to explain it. A mousemaid who p carried a knotted rope, a strong old gray-bearded mouse carrying a stout stave ... And a great bell tolling aloud me sound of freedom.

fi" Both Mariel and the rat Captain, Bragglin, were in a per-*J

jlous position. Dandin and his friends stood ready to give fp'.-up their lives protecting the little moles, while the rat jm patrol crouched, willing to pounce at their Captain's '

f? word. Mid-noon heat caused both parties much discom-If fort; their paws shifted dangerously in the loose sand.

"If anything happens to me, make the moles die M slowly!" Bragglin called out to his rats.

: Mariel kept up her deadly bluff, cutting off further ff

words as she pressed the dagger meaningfully at his I& throat. "Won't do your Captain much good; he'll be $$&* '

^"wormbait, and we'll take at least half of you with us if '&jf "'*-

vyou touch those little moles, be warned!" The mousemaid could feel the hot sand shifting under her footpaws, and Jjshe moved to gain a firmer position.

At that instant Bragglin made his move. He wriggled way from the knife, kicking at Mariel and giving a swift to Grinj. The rat had been standing over Mariel, his wpaw slackened slightly from the long standoff, but he 64.

took the hint immediately and stretched the bowstring taut to fire the arrow.

Zzzzz. Clunk!

Grinj fell poleaxed by a smooth, round rock with a hole through its center. It was attached to a thin, toughened line. Grinj's arrow buried itself in the sand alongside the mousemaid's eye as a deep, drawling voice called from the hilltop behind her.

"Paws still in the blinkin' ranks than! If any of you longtails have half a bally brain, I'll drop you before you can use it! You showah listenin'? That's not just a bloomin* order, it's a fact!"