247 the pile: "Go easy, (here's only a beam protectin' us. Dig careful, friends!"

Shad grunted as he tunneled into the jumble of earth and stone. "Take care o' miz Craklyn an' the Abbess, young b.u.t.ty-we'll soon have ye out o' there!"

They hauled aside a block of masonry between them, and pulled and tugged at timbers and rock slivers. Foremole flinched suddenly. "Yowch! Oi be stabbed in ee tail!"

Shad held up the lantern to see what it was. An ornate silver spearhead, studded with peridots and ta.s.seled with silk, was poking out of the debris, its point waving and shaking.

"In here, we're in here! Hurry, the air's runnin' out!"

Shad held on to the spearhead while Foremole dug swiftly around it. The good mole was an expert digger, and he soon had a small tunnel through to the three trapped creatures. Shad began enlarging it, scooping aside earth with his gold platter.

There was an ominous creaking of timber, then the sound of Abbess Tansy's voice calling to them, "You'd best be quick-Craklyn's been knocked senseless and I think this beam is about to break under the weight of rubble!"

Shad thrust the lantern through and squeezed in after it. Bent double, he sized up the situation.

The cave-in had fallen around a huge baulk of timber, leaving a small s.p.a.ce. b.u.t.ty and Tansy were crouched in it, supporting the limp form of Craklyn. Suddenly, unable to bear the weight of collapsed material, the beam gave a splintering crack, showering them with soil and mortar dust.

Foremole scrambled in alongside Shad. Moving Tansy aside, he took her place so that he and b.u.t.ty were supporting Craklyn. "Hurr, et be gurtly bad in yurr, marm. Do ee get owt quick loik!"

Shad a.s.sisted Tansy into the escape tunnel, and the limber beam began to groan like a living thing as it shifted. The hefty otter threw caution to the wind. Wedging his back beneath the beam, he strained upward and took the weight upon himself.

"Get 'em out, Diggum, mate. Don't argue. Go!"

They scrambled out, dragging Craklyn between them, through choking dust and a rain of pebbles.

Foremole and b.u.t.ty grabbed the silver-headed spear, thrust- 248.

ing the pole back toward Shad, who had been forced almost flat. b.u.t.ty shouted instructions: "Grip tight to the spearpole, mister Shad. You push, we'll pull. Ready, one, two, push!"

Shad held the spearpole like a vise as, forcing himself free of the beam, he gave a mighty shove. Foremole and b.u.t.ty heaved on the other end, knowing their friend's life depended on it.

Covered in earth and battered by stones, Shad flew out of the tunnel as the beam broke and everything collapsed inward behind him. He was practically shot out of the hole like an arrow from a bow, landing in a heap atop his rescuers.

b.u.t.ty found the remains of a flask of elderberry wine, which had been thrown clear. While Tansy bathed Craklyn's brow with it. Shad took stock of their situation.

"Well, messmates, that's wot we get fer goin' treasure 'untin'. We're blocked in this pa.s.sage better'n if we'd been walled in by builders. Still, we're alive, an' the air is fit to breathe."

Licking her lips, Craklyn came back to consciousness. "Mmm, I taste like elderberry wine, that's strange. What happened? Is everybeast all right?"

Tansy breathed a sigh of relief and hugged her old squirrel friend fondly. "Everyone is fine, though you were knocked out when the tunnel collapsed. How do you feel?"

Craklyn stood up and dusted off her gown. "Fine, never felt better! Dearie me, looks as if we're trapped down here, though. What in the name of seasons are you up to, young b.u.t.ty?"

The squirrel Friar pointed proudly to the small heap of glittering objects he had gathered from the rubble. "Collectin' treasure, marm. 'Tis rare pretty stuff!"

Foremole wrinkled his snout at the precious trove.' 'Phwunr! Pretty is all et be. Us'n's caint eat et, hurr no, so 'tis of no use at all down yurr!"

Craklyn ignored the mole. She dug out of her pocket the rhyme she had copied, shaking her head knowingly. "I thought so. Treasure, that's what we missed. Look at the first letter of each line, reading downward.

249.

"Turn at the lowest stair, Right is the left down there, Every pace you must count At ten times paws amount, See where a deathbird flies Under the hunter's eyes, Radiant in splendor fair, Ever mine, hidden where?''

She folded the sc.r.a.p of parchment triumphantly. "So that's the riddle solved. Treasure! And we've found it!"

Shad picked up the empty wine canteen. "Well good fer us, marm, but Foremole's right, treasure ain't goin' to feed us or get us out o' this mess. So, wot next?"

Craklyn and b.u.t.ty gathered up the treasure and wrapped it in a cloak-having found it they were not about to leave it behind. The young Friar gazed at the heap of debris blocking the pa.s.sage. "We'll take this with us. Hmm, bet there's lots more of it buried in there, pity we can't dig it out."

Abbess Tansy tweaked b.u.t.ty's ear playfully. "You greedy young wretch! Come on, let's explore farther down this pa.s.sage and see where it leads. Bring die lantern, Shad."

There was neither dawn nor dusk far beneath the earth; time had no meaning. It was only by hunger and thirst that the five companions could judge how long they had been down there. Long, dark and dreary, dry, dusty, and silent, the pa.s.sage wound on a downward slope. Occasionally they arrived at a cave-in that had not quite blocked the way, and then they found themselves scrambling up hills of broken stone, forcing their way through narrow apertures close to the tunnel ceiling.

Foremole tapped the walls regularly and probed the tight-packed earth at window and door s.p.a.ces, but without any great success. Being the strongest of the party, he and Shad forged ahead in front of the others, to make sure the way was safe.

The big otter was wearied from his exertions fighting the crushing beam. "I don't like it, Diggum," he murmured in a low voice to Foremole. "Looks like we're goin' nowheres down 'ere. We ain't got food nor drink, only the air we breathe, an' that lantern light ain't goin' to last forever."

250 Dust rose from his back as the mole patted it. "Hurr, oi knows that, ole riverdog, but us'n's be bound t'put ee brave face on, lest ee froighten an' scare ee uthers. Coom now, let's set an' rest awhoile."

They waited for the others to join them, then all five sat with their backs against the wall, tired and dispirited, each with his or her own thoughts, which were rather similar. Green gra.s.s, sunlight, fresh air, clear water, and the happy world of Redwall Abbey, so far above them that it all seemed like a dream.

45.

Major Perigord stood in the gap of the south wall with Captain Twayblade. Together they watched the shrews and Waterhogs from the water meadows being led up the slope by Log-a-Log and Gurgan Spearback to join the Redwall army. Perigord attempted a rough head count as they turned west to the main gate.

"About a hundred an' ten, maybe twenty, not many really. Let's go an' see what Morio has mustered up."

Lieutenant Morio was seated in the orchard with quill and parchment on an old tree stump. Pasque was a.s.sisting him in compiling the figures on what number of fighting beasts were available.

Perigord looked questioningly at the two hares. "Make y'report, be it good or ill. Speak up, chaps."

Morio wiped an inky paw against his tunic. "Well, it ain't good, Major, but they all seem fit'n'able. There's fifty Red-wallers, and thirty squirrels come in from 'round Mossflower, all pretty fair archers an' good slingers, well equipped too. Skipper's rounded up a few more otters, bringin' his strength 251.

252 up to twoscore. Wish we had more otters-they look like they know their way 'round a fight."

Perigord straightened his green velvet tunic, now practically in tatters after all it had been through. "Wishes don't win wars, Lieutenant, we make the best of what we've jolly well got. Have y'counted all the shrews'n'hogs?"

"I have, sah. One hundred an' sixty-three all told, and if you add our twelve, well, that's the total strength. Always providin' that Tammo, Midge, an' Rockjaw make it back from the Rapscallion camp in one piece."

Perigord did a quick mental calculation. ' 'Well, that makes nearly three hundred we can put in the field. Pasque, me pretty one, how's the jolly old armory?"

Pasque Valerian had slightly better news. "Top o' the mark, sah. Everybeast carries their own weapon, an' there's a chamber in the bell tower crammed full of arms, all manner of blade, spear, and bow. Ginko the Bellringer says you're welcome to 'em all, sah!"

Twayblade drew her rapier, and flicking an apple from a nearby branch, caught it deftly and polished it on her sleeve. "Three hundred, eh. Wish I'd told Midge to let the Rapscallions know there was only two hundred of us, but I said three, hopin' we might have had four. Always nice to keep a hundred as a surprise reserve. Ah well, no use worryin' over spilt cider, wot."

Perigord took the apple from his sister and bit into it. "Indeed, we'll just have t'give ten times as good as we get off the vermin. h.e.l.lo there, what's amiss here?"

The Galloper Riffle was trying to restrain Viola Bankvole from reaching Perigord.

"Sorry, marm, y'can't see the Major right now, he's busy."

Viola thrust her jaw out belligerently. "Stand aside, young sir, or I'll take a stick to you. I must see your officer right now!"

Perigord gestured Riffle to one side. "At y'service, marm. You wanted to see me?"

Viola shot Riffle a haughty glance before addressing the Major. "It's our Abbess. She's missing, and so are Shad the Gatekeeper, Foremole Diggum, Craklyn the Recor..."

Perigord cut her off with a wave of his paw. "Enough, 253 marm, enough! Just tell me how many altogether."

"Well, there's five of them. They're nowhere to be seen, I've searched the Abbey grounds high and low. Now, what do you intend doing about it, sir?"

Perigord answered her gently, seeing that Viola was upset. "Beggin* y'pardon, lady, but there ain't a lot I can do. We're about to march off an' fight a war. So as y'see, I can't spare anybeast to go off searchin' for your friends."

Viola Bankvole's paw waved under the Major's nose as she ticked him off. "Well, that's a fine how d'ye do. But mark my words, sir, I will gather more reliable searchers and look for them myself. Good day!"

She flounced off through the orchard, calling to the older ones. "Gurrbowl, come here! I need you to search with me, and you, Mother Buscol, you too, Brother Ginko. Follow me!"

Captain Twayblade chuckled as she rescued the apple back from her brother. "I say, chaps, I think we'd best stay here an' search. Send her off to face the vermin. She'd soon send 'em packin', wot!"

Perigord nodded admiringly as he watched Viola bullying half the Abbey elders into service. "Aye, she's a bold perilous creature right enough. But to business now. Pasque m'dear, would y'be good enough to a.s.semble the leaders? We'll have to get geared up an' movin' shortly."

The last full meal had been produced in Red wail's kitchens by Guosim shrew cooks. They had filled six huge cauldrons with a thick stew of leeks, mushrooms, carrots, turnips, water shrimp, onions, potatoes, and lots of herbs, enough to feed an army. October Ale casks were broached and served in beakers with rough batch loaves and wedges of autumn nut cheese.

As the Redwall force ate, Perigord consulted with their Chieftains: Skipper of Otters, Log-a-Log of the Guosim, Gur-gan Spearback of the Waterhogs, and Arven, Champion of Redwall, bearing with him the great sword of Martin the Warrior. There was not a lot to say that had not already been said; they all knew what they had to do, and even in the face of overwhelming odds they were prepared to do it, or go down fighting.

254 Mother Buscol had evaded Viola. She stood on the sidelines, with Russano the badgerbabe and Orocca's three young owls in the straw-lined wheelbarrow, enjoying the sun. The rest of the Abbey Dibbuns crowded 'round, hanging on her ap.r.o.n strings, in the absence of anyone else to mind them. Together they listened to the Major address his troops.

"Right ho, chaps, for those who don't know me, let me introduce m'self. I'm Major Perigord Habile Sinistra of the Salamandastron Long Patrol, commandin' this entire operation, though your orders will prob'ly reach you through your own leaders an' chieftains. Now I'll make this as short as possible, wot! There's a thousand Rapscallions sweepin' up-country, an' Redwall Abbey's in their path. So to save the place I've ... ahem ... arranged for the jolly old fracas to take place elsewhere. According to Taunoc the blighters are on the move, and we've found the ideal place to meet 'em head on. So that's what we'll jolly well do, if y'follow me. As you know, we'll be outnumbered by more'n three to one, but by jingo we won't be outcla.s.sed! We won't be outfought! An' as long as I can stand with a saber in me paw, we won't be driven backward a single pace!"

Every creature listening leapt up cheering and brandishing their weapons.

"No surrender! No retreat!"

"Eulalia! 'S death on the wind!"

"Boi *okey they'm furr et!"

Perigord gestured for silence. "Thank you, friends. But as you know, not all of us will come marching home. War is war, and that is a fact. So if there are any of you with families or young 'uns to look after, well, n.o.beast will think less of ye if you go home to them now."

A rough-looking otter stood up. "Beggin' yore pardon, Major, but I got a wife an liddle 'uns, an' if I didn't go with ye then I'd think less of meself. 'Cos we ain't fightin' the vermin just to protect Redwall, we're facin' 'em to make the land safe an' rid of their kind."

Mother Buscol trundled her barrow of babes through the army ranks, followed by a flock of Dibbuns. She halted in front of the Major and presented him with a cloth bundle.

255 "Indeed to goodness, sir, you can't 'ave an army without a flag to march under, oh dear no you cannot!"

Skipper and Arven unrolled the bundle. It was a dark green tablecloth with a big red letter R embroidered upon it. Inside the bundle was another smaller package, which Buscol gave to Perigord. "It ain't velvet, sir," the old squirrelmother said, shrugging awkwardly, "but may'ap 'twill be of service."

Arven grabbed a long pike and began fastening the flag to it. "Here, Skip, lend a paw, you can tie better knots than me." The banner was lashed to the pikestaff, and Arven waved it high over the crowd. Back and forth it fluttered in the sunlight as the ma.s.sed shouts rose to a concerted roar: "Redwaaaaaalll! Redwaaaaaalll! Redwaaaaaalll!"

Major Perigord slipped out of his tattered tunic and donned the one that Mother Buscol had made for him. It was blue linen, homespun, but beautifully fashioned from an ancient bed quilt. Fastening on the medals from his old tunic, he bowed gracefully and kissed the squirrel-mother's paw. "My thanks to ye, lady, I'll wear it with honor an' pride. Mayhap I'll even return here with it unharmed."

The Dibbuns dove upon the Major's old tunic.

"Me wannit, 'smine, gitcha paws offen it, Sloey!"

Perigord eyed them sternly. ' 'Silence in the ranks there, you fiends! Y'can wear it a day each at a time. Sloey first." Even the search party led by Viola left off their task to see the Redwall army on its way. Elders and Dibbuns alike lined the path to the main gate as the warriors marched past four abreast, every creature well armed and carrying provisions. Arven and Perigord stood to one side, each drawing his blade to salute the flag, which was being borne by Skipper. The stout otter dipped the colors, awaiting orders as the columns formed up on the path outside.

It was a high summer day, and the sun shone out of a sky that appeared bluer than it had ever been. They stood waiting in silence, listening to gra.s.shoppers chirruping and skylarks singing on the western flatlands. Many Redwallers straightened their backs, breamed deeply, and blinked to prevent a tear appearing, wondering if they would ever see the old Abbey on such a beautiful day again.

All the good-byes had been said, though Major Perigord 256.

bowed to Sister Viola and spoke a last few words. " 'Tis always hard to leave a place, marm, particularly when certain friends are not there to wish you farewell. I wish you every good fortune in your search for the Mother Abbess and her companions. In happier, more peaceful times, myself and the patrol would have been at your disposal to help find them, but alas it was not to be. I hope you bear me no ill will, marm. I must bid ye good-bye."

Sister Viola smiled at the gallant hare. "How could any true Redwaller bear ill will to a brave soldier marching to defend our home and our very lives? Never fear, sir, I will find our lost friends. I bid you success and good fortune along with my good-bye. You are a perilous creature. Major."

Sergeant Torgoch's stentorian roar rang out through gateway and path: "Flagbearer three paces forward! All offisahs to the vanguard! In the ranks .. . Atten ... shun! Corporal Rubbadub-beat the advance! By the right... quick ... maaaaaarch!"

Shouldering blades, Perigord, Arven, Gurgan, and Log-a-Log formed the first rank of four behind Skipper's banner, with Rubbadub behind them setting up a fine, paw-swinging drumroll.

"Barraboom! Barraboom! Drrrappadabdab! Buboom!"

Galloper Riffle called out through the rising dust cloud, "Permission for the Company to sing 'O'er the Hills,' sah!"

"Permission granted, Galloper," Perigord* s voice rang back at him. "Sing out with a will!"

"O'er the Hills" was a famous marching song, and close to three hundred voices roared it out l.u.s.tily: "O'er the hills an' far away, 'Twas there I left my dearie, An' as I left I heard her say, 'Come back to me d'ye hear me, Y'may eat cake an' drink pale wine, But come back home at autumn time, An' on fresh bread'n'cheese you'll dine, For no one brews good ale like mine.'

257 O fields are green an' skies are blue, Ole woods are high an' full o' loam, But hearken friend I'll tell you true, Ain't no place in the world like home.

O'er the hills an' far away, 'Tis there my home's awaitin*, The season's shorter by a day, Whilst I'm antic.i.p.atin'

A logfire made from cracklin' pine, An' washin' dancin' on the line, As blossoms 'round the door entwine, Hurrah, for there's that dearie mine!"

Redwallers old and young stood out on the path waving kerchiefs, ap.r.o.ns, and headscarves until the marchers diminished to a faraway dust cloud, with their song a faint echo on the hot air.

Viola could not help sniffling into a lace kerchief, "Oh, they made such a brave sight going off like that!"

Ever the practical creature, Gurrbowl Cellarmole shooed the Dibbuns back inside, remarking, "Hurr aye, they'm did, an' let us'n's 'ope they'm lukk ee same on ee day 'em c.u.mms back!"

46.

The two rats Sneezewort and Lousewort kept their weapons firmly centered on Midge and Tammo, suspicious of their every move. It was a stalemate that was lasting far into the night, with little hope of the two hares escaping.