Mattimeo (Redwall)

by Brian Jacques

  ‘By the fur and claw! Look at that!’

  ‘How are we going to cross a gap that wide?’

  Sir Harry sat back on his tail feathers.

  ‘Tho’ I’m the most poetic of birds,

  Right now I’m lost for words!’

  Log-a-Log whirled his sling and shot a stone down into the abyss. There was neither sound nor echo came back.

  Orlando quoted the lines of the poem from memory:

  ‘Shrink not from the barren land

  Look below from where you stand,

  This is where a stone may fall and make no sound at all.’

  Jabez shook his head in wonderment.

  ‘So this is what a broad black band on a map looks like.’

  37

  HALF-EATEN FRUIT, SOME of it rotten, lay scattered between the upturned beds, torn sheets and stained walls of the once neat dormitory, and a window had been broken so that the magpies and rooks could fly in and out at will. The fighters of General Ironbeak had smashed the small wooden lockers and tables. They lay about in the wreckage, some sleeping, others eating. Ironbeak had taken the infirmary and sickbay as his headquarters. Mangiz explored the cupboards, poking his beak into Sister May’s collection of herbal remedies.

  ‘Yagga! Why do these stupid earthcrawlers keep dead leaves and grasses? They are not good to eat, so what use are they?’

  Ironbeak perched on Sister May’s wooden stool. ‘Who knows, Mangiz. That is nothing to do with our problem. I am certain that the earthcrawlers have plenty to eat and drink down in that place called Cavern Hole. The time is coming when we will have to think about an attack. We will go in there and drag them out.’

  Mangiz stood on the medicine cupboard, shaking his head. ‘That would be like using a boulder to crush an ant, my General. I am sure there must be a better answer to your problem.’

  ‘Then tell me, Mangiz. You are my seer. Are the pictures becoming clear in your mind again?’

  ‘My vision is still clouded by the mouse that wears armour, but I am not relying on dreams and visions; soon now I will think of an idea.’

  ‘Kacha! Then think quickly, Mangiz, or the summer will be gone. When the brown leaves blow and the wind becomes cold, I want those earthcrawlers to be only a memory as I rule in my great redstone house.’

  Foremole had wasted no time. He and his crew had tunnelled through from Cavern Hole to the grounds. They emerged by the west wall, poking their snouts out into the sunlight.

  ‘Hurr hurr, you’m may’s well try an’ keep watter in a sieve as stop’n uz moles agoen whurr we do please.’

  ‘Aye, Jarge, whyrr to naow?’

  ‘Oi’m a-thinken us’d best tunnel to pool.’

  ‘Burr, then to Miz Cornfl’er’s liddle ’ouse by yon gate.’

  ‘Doant ee forget a noice deep’n to orchard.’

  Soon a veritable network of tunnels was under construction.

  Rollo was not too pleased. They had taken the big table for the barricade and now he had nowhere to camp. He soon cheered up when Ambrose Spike allowed him to help with the hammering and nailing of the barrier. Chairs and benches, cupboards and shelves, together with the large banqueting table, were placed across the bottom step of Cavern Hole. Ambrose and Winifred had given it a lot of thought. There were spaces to fire arrows through, slits for javelins and spears, plus a form that the defenders could stand upon to sling stones over the top at the enemy.

  The Abbot and Sister May had done a thorough stocktaking of all food in the larders and drink in the wine cellar, and there was little danger of provision shortage.

  Constance checked the weaponry. Besides the standard arms, there were lots of kitchen utensils that could double as fearsome implements of war. The badger brandished a copper-bottomed saucepan thoughtfully.

  ‘What d’you think, Cornflower?’

  ‘It would make quite a fetching war helmet for you, Constance.’

  Brother Sedge snatched it from the badger. ‘D’you want Mossflower vegetable stew with dumplings or not?’ he asked crossly.

  ‘Oh, sorry, I didn’t know you were planning to use that saucepan.’

  ‘Here, take this rolling pin. It’ll make a useful club. And put that frying pan down, please. I’m cooking redcurrant pancakes with apple slices,’ Brother Sedge told the badger indignantly.

  ‘Oh, er, right! Is this pan all right to borrow?’

  ‘Perfectly. Then I won’t have to make any hazelnut cream sauce to pour over my pancakes.’

  Constance put the pan down quickly. ‘No hazelnut cream sauce, unthinkable! Brother Sedge, I’ve just had a splendid idea. Why don’t you invite the birds down to lunch and feed them to death. Hahaha!’

  Brother Sedge picked up a ladle aggressively. ‘Are you insulting my cooking, badger?’

  Cornflower shook with mirth. ‘Oh dear no. I’m sure she meant the remark as a compliment. Come on, Constance, let’s see if any of the gardening tools can be of use to us.’

  They retreated chuckling as Brother Sedge sliced apples savagely.

  Foremole reappeared through the tunnel entrance into Cavern Hole. He waved to the Abbot.

  ‘Lookit yurr, ‘dalfus zurr, fresh watter aplenty!’

  Moles climbed out, bearing buckets of water on poles between them – proof that the tunnel to the pond had been completed.

  The Abbot was well pleased. ‘Thank you, Foremole. Now we have all we need. Look, Mrs Churchmouse, fresh water, as much as we need.’

  Mrs Churchmouse rolled her sleeves up busily. ‘Wonderful! I think it’s high time for somebeast to get a bath.’

  Rollo gave a yelp of dismay and tried to crawl into the tunnel, but he met Gaffer who was climbing out.

  ‘Urr you’m be, marm. You scrub that liddle feller noice an’ clean naow.’

  Baby Rollo was carried off protesting loudly, ‘I wanna be a mole. Moles don’t get baffed!’

  Mangiz had been thinking very hard. ‘My General, last time I was in the galleries of Great Hall I saw the mouse in armour. He was not a real live mouse, but a picture on a great cloth that is fastened to the wall. The earthcrawlers must value him highly.’

  ‘What if they do, Mangiz? A piece of cloth is a piece of cloth. How can this help us?’

  ‘Maybe they value him highly enough to defend him.’

  ‘What is going on in your head, my Mangiz? Tell me.’

  ‘I am thinking that we will not have to attack the earthcrawlers. If they saw us trying to take the big cloth with the picture of the mouse on, they would come out and attack us to save it.’

  Ironbeak clacked his beak together sharply. ‘Chakka! We would catch them out in the open. This is a good plan. Mangiz, you are my strong right wing.’

  The sun slanted through the windows of Redwall Abbey. It shone on the large tapestry in the peace and quiet of Great Hall.

  BOOK THREE

  Malkariss

  38

  THE ARRIVAL OF a cool summer morning did not make the gorge look any less wide.

  Jabez Spike shook his head despairingly. ‘Twould be simpler to float a stone across a river than to get all these creatures across that great dark pit.’

  Breakfast was frugal and the water ration had run low. They ate and drank in silence. Basil Stag Hare looked longingly at the bushes and vegetation on the opposite side.

  ‘I’ll wager there’s tender young plants and lots of water over there, wot?’ he said wistfully.

  Cheek gulped his water ration in a single swig. ‘Wish you’d stop goin’ on about food’n’water, Basil. Otters need water more than some old dried up twig of a hare, y’know.’

  Orlando strolled moodily round the blackened stakes that had held the bridge. ‘That fox! He really thought of everything, didn’t he?’

  Jess had a faraway look in her eyes. She stroked her tail thoughtfully before peering over the edge of the gorge.

  ‘Hmm, chopped the bridge off completely at both sides, did he? Hmm. Matthias, do you think our owl friend could fly
down into the ravine and cast his eye about for the remains of the bridge? I’ve got an idea.’

  Matthias looked enquiringly at Sir Harry. The owl stretched his impressive wings.

  ‘The work of a moment, dear sir,

  To a useful fellow like me.

  I’ll chance a flight down there.

  We’ll see what we shall see.’

  The sunlight shone through his outspread wings as he executed a graceful soaring motion. Diving swiftly, he was soon lost to view within the dark abyss.

  Jess instructed Orlando on the next part of her plan.

  ‘Lend me your battleaxe, big fellow. Oof! On second thoughts, you hold it. Now do as I tell you. Stand it upright against those stakes which held the bridge. Good! Log-a-Log, could you bring some rope?’

  The shrew leader rummaged about until he found a small coil. ‘Here’s your rope, but there isn’t enough to get us a fraction of the way across that gap.’

  Jess uncoiled the rope. ‘I have no intention of trying to cross with this piece, Orlando. Hold the axe still while I lash it to the stakes.’

  Sir Harry reappeared over the edge.

  ‘This is your lucky day.

  I’ll tell you what I found.

  As I was winging my way

  Far below the ground.

  The bridge cast over the edge,

  Complete with slats and all,

  Hangs from a rocky shelf

  Which juts from the canyon wall.’

  Jess secured the axe bolt upright. ‘Well done! I knew a long wiggly thing like a rope bridge couldn’t fall far without getting caught on something. I don’t want the slats; they’re not part of my plan. Can you bring me one of the long ropes? Do you need a knife?’

  Sir Harry blinked indignantly.

  ‘What need of a blade have I?

  No sword or knife do I seek.

  I am monarch of the sky,

  With fearsome talon and beak!’

  With a hoot and a whoosh he shot back into the depths.

  Jess shrugged apologetically. ‘Hope I haven’t offended him.’

  Slagar glanced around nervously. They were passing through pleasant brush country, mainly bushes and shrubs, with the odd tree dotted here and there. The whole area gave Mattimeo the impression that once long ago it had been gardened, cared for and cultivated. He walked in line with his friends, along what appeared to have been the path of a terrace. Flowers still grew in clumps, and rocks ran in a straight line, probably bedded there by some industrious creatures in the dim past.

  Tess spoke into his ear from behind, the sudden sound causing Mattimeo to jump slightly.

  ‘Why are there no birds singing?’ she asked.

  The young mouse was mystified. ‘You’re right, Tess. I couldn’t say what made me uneasy about this place at first, but you’ve put your paw slap on it! There’s no sound, no noise of grasshoppers, birds, the things you’d normally expect to hear on a bright summer’s day. Even Slagar doesn’t look too happy with this place.’

  Tess clinked her chain manacles gently. The sound hung on the still air.

  ‘It is beautiful though. I’d like to stop and sit here awhile. Do you know, it reminds me somehow of our Abbey. Look, there are ripe berry bushes over there, and daisies and roses too.’

  Sam, who was in the front, stared ahead into the distance. ‘I can see two tall rocks shaped like a badger’s head and a big bell.’

  ‘Silence back there, or you won’t live to see nightfall. Pick those paws up and march faster!’

  Vitch obeyed unconsciously, speeding up until he overtook his leader.

  Slagar cuffed him bad-temperedly. ‘Where d’you think you’re running to? Get back and watch those prisoners, and keep from under my paws, rat.’

  Orlando looked doubtfully at the contraption Jess had set up. High over his head the thick bridge rope was fastened to his axe top. The rope ran out across the abyss, taking a steep downward slope until it reached the stakes on the far side, where Sir Harry had secured it close to ground level. The big badger scratched his muzzle.

  ‘How’s it supposed to work, Jess?’ he asked dubiously.

  ‘Quite simply. Matthias, would you go first and show him?’

  The warrior mouse shinned swiftly up the stakes. Removing his belt, he swung it over the rope with one paw, catching the other end as it came down. He stood with his paws twined in the belt that hung either side of the bridge rope.

  ‘Ready, Jess,’ he called.

  The squirrel climbed up and gave him a good push.

  Whizzing across the gorge from the rope lashed around the axehead, Matthias sped on a straight downward course, lifting his tail clear as he hit the other side in a cloud of dust. He jumped to his paws, waving triumphantly. Log-a-Log and his shrews cheered aloud.

  Jess turned to Orlando with a smile. ‘That’s how!’

  ‘I’m not sure, Jess. I might be too big and heavy.’

  ‘Then you can go next to last,’ the squirrel said decisively.

  ‘Who’s going last?’

  ‘Me, of course. You want your axe back, don’t you? Right then. I’ll untie the rope, lash your axe to my back and swing across. Don’t worry, I’m a good treeflyer. I’ll go straight down into the gorge on the end of the rope, stop myself against the opposite wall and climb up.’

  Orlando wiped a dusty paw across his brow. ‘I’m glad it’s you and not me trying that. By the way, please take care not to lose my battleaxe down there.’

  ‘Oh, stop fussing, you great lump, and help that shrew up on to the rope.’

  Jess’s plan worked well and the operation went smoothly, though with one or two minor hitches. Sir Harry was kept busy flying to and fro to borrow belts for those who had none. When Orlando’s turn came he persevered bravely. However, his size and weight caused the axe handle to bend and the rope to belly. The badger was stuck in the middle, hanging perilously over the abyss. He was moved by Matthias and his friends throwing their weight on and off the rope until it began to twang and vibrate, and Orlando moved slowly along it. At the edge, he had to be hauled over the brink by Basil, Cheek and several shrews. When it was her turn to go, last of all, Jess the champion squirrel of Redwall did the crossing in swashbuckling style. Untying the rope, she bound Orlando’s axe to her back and leapt straight into the gorge, grasping the end of the bridge rope. Down she sped, suddenly snapping to a halt, then with practised skill she swung across and bounded up the rope, paw over paw.

  ‘Here, Orlando,’ she panted, ‘hurry and get this clumping great hatchet off my back. I can’t stand straight with the weight of it.’

  ‘I’ll leave you tied to it if you call it a hatchet again, squirrel.’

  The pool among the bushes was like a cool oasis. They washed the dust off, bathing and splashing in the clear water. All save Jabez Stump, who sat munching cow parsley.

  ‘Tain’t natural, bathin’, otherwise we’d have all been born fishes,’ the hedgehog objected.

  The foragers found plenty of berries, fruit and plants, even a crab apple tree laden with tiny golden crab apples. The friends lounged about, eating and dozing, almost reluctant to leave this haven of plenty.

  Log-a-Log nibbled wild celery as he made his report to Matthias.

  ‘The scouts have picked up the trail, going south as usual. It’s easy to follow.’

  Matthias nodded, studying the map and the poem. ‘Aye, it looks like plain travelling. There’s no obstacle ahead, unless you count these two rocks, the badger and the bell!’

  39

  ‘CONSTANCE, ABBOT! BIRDS are trying to steal our tapestry!’

  Brother Trugg tripped over his habit and fell as he dashed from the barricade where he had been standing sentry duty.

  ‘Get slings, arrows and javelins. Pull the table aside quickly!’

  The defenders rushed up the stairs into Great Hall.

  Three magpies were struggling with the wall fastenings of the heavy tapestry. They ignored the charging animals, remainin
g intent on what they were about.

  Before the Redwallers had a chance to marshal their forces and open fire, they were beset by birds. Rooks hurtled down from the galleries, pecking and clawing. General Ironbeak and Mangiz, leading a small force, dropped down behind them. Amid the confusion, Constance saw what was happening: Ironbeak was trying to cut off their path back to Cavern Hole. She whirled, dealing a rook a heavy blow that sent it spinning as it buried its claws into her neckfur.

  ‘Back, back. Return to Cavern Hole, everybeast. Hurry!’ she ordered.

  Two rooks were trying to drag Sister May off by the back of her habit, but John Churchmouse thwacked them soundly with a javelin.

  ‘Gaahh, scat! Come on, Sister, follow me!’ he cried.

  Calmly the little Sister shot off an arrow. ‘Got him! Ha, he won’t sit down for a season. Take that, you horrible bird! Oh, right. Come on, Mr Churchmouse, I’ll protect you.’

  Ambrose Spike took a run at a group of birds who were attacking Cornflower. Curling himself tight, he went spinning into them like a flying ball of needles, and they rose to the air, squawking.

  Constance lashed about with a frying pan, the weapon making a loud bong every time she scored a hit.

  ‘Get out of our Abbey, you scavengers!’

  Bong!

  ‘Look out behind you, Abbot!’

  Bong!

  Constance hurtled at Ironbeak and Mangiz. The sight of the large badger with teeth bared made them jump to one side. She growled and snarled like a wild beast, charging them recklessly so that they had to take to the air. The other birds followed their leaders’ example.