‘Let him go, poor creature. He seems to be very fond of that sack. Maybe he gave me this in exchange for it.’
Basil inspected the stone hanging from its grass bracelet. ‘Funny lookin’ doodah. What d’you suppose it is?’
‘I’ve no idea. It looks like the model of a small stone mouse. Probably some kind of ornament that he wished to give us in exchange for our hospitality.’
The warrior mouse looped it about his sword belt and sat down to finish the evening meal with his friends.
The half-moon gleamed fitfully down on the scene at the foot of the tall rocks. The summer night was warm, but eerie and silent. Jube whimpered in his sleep, and Tess stroked his head until he fell silent. Auma stared up at the strange gloomy rocks rising like twin sentinels in the darkness.
‘I don’t like it here,’ she said, shuddering. ‘All my life I lived by the mountains of the Western Plains. They were sunny and friendly; these are not.’
Tim reached out and touched the rock wall, which was still warm from the sun.
‘They’re only rocks like any others. It’s just that nature shaped them differently,’ he reassured her.
‘Quiet there! Get those eyes shut and sleep, or you’ll feel my cane.’
Threeclaws strolled by swinging his willow withe. He checked that they were still and silent before moving on to join Slagar.
The Sly One stood between the rocks, his silken mask making a splash of colour against their dark surface. He turned at Threeclaws’ approach.
‘All still?’
‘Aye, they’re quiet enough, Chief.’
‘Good. We’ll soon be rid of them.’
‘Where is this place you’re taking them, Slagar?’
‘Are you questioning me, Threeclaws?’ the fox asked sharply.
‘No, Chief. I just can’t help wondering when all this marching’s going to stop and when it does, where we will be.’
‘Don’t worry, Threeclaws, I’ll take care of you and the rest. I’m telling you this because I know I can trust you. Listen, mate, you’ve been the one I could always rely on. Some of those others, especially Halftail and that little Vitch, need watching. Pretty soon now I’ll be gone for a day or two. I want you to do something for me: keep an eye on them. I’ll leave you in charge.’
Threeclaws felt proud and pleased with himself. He had never heard the masked fox call anybeast ’mate’. He felt privileged, standing and talking to the leader as if they were both equals.
‘Leave it to me, Chief. I’ll watch them when you’re away. Huh, Halftail and Vitch, a stoat and a rat, who’d trust them? You need a good loyal weasel like me.’
Slagar patted Threeclaws on the back.
‘You took the words right out of my mouth, Threeclaws,’ he chuckled. ‘You’re the weasel for me. Listen, when all this is over I’ll need a good fellow at my right paw to share a lot of power and riches. Is it a bargain?’
The weasel shook Slagar heartily by the paw. ‘A bargain, Chief. Rely on me!’
‘I do. Now go and keep a watch on that lot.’
Threeclaws saluted smartly and marched off with his head high.
‘Fool!’ Slagar sneered beneath the silken hood as he watched the weasel go.
Halftail was slumbering against the bell rock when Slagar stirred him.
The stoat tried to give the impression that he was alert. ‘Is that you Chief? I was just lying quiet here, watching the captives,’ he pretended.
‘Good, good. I’ve often noticed that you’re the one who stays awake and keeps a check on things, Halftail.’
‘You have? Oh, er, yes, well. Somebeast has to do it, I suppose.’
‘I know I can depend on you. I often say to myself, it’ll be all right for me to take a nap, Halftail’s looking after things. Listen to me, my good friend. I’ll have to take a short trip soon. I’ll leave you in charge here, but don’t say anything. I want you to watch Threeclaws carefully. He’s been getting a bit big for his fur lately. I don’t trust him.’
Halftail nodded wisely. ‘Don’t think I haven’t noticed it too, Chief. Those weasels are all the same, I’ve never trusted them.’
‘That’s because you’re like me, Halftail. You’ve got sense and you’re a natural leader. You stick with me, friend, and I’ll see that you’re well rewarded. I’ll take care of you.’
Halftail opened his eyes wide. ‘You mean it, Slagar?’
‘Of course I do. Faithful service should always be well rewarded. By the way, have you seen Vitch about?’
‘Yes, he’s over there by those bushes.’
‘Right, I’ll go and have a word with him. I may need to take him with me for a day or two. Remember now, mouth shut, eyes open. I’m counting on you, Halftail.’
‘You can trust me, Slagar.’
The Sly One sat down by Vitch beneath the bushes. The young rat drew back slightly, afraid of Slagar.
‘Listen carefully, Vitch, I have something to tell you.’
‘But Slagar, I haven’t done anything wrong, I’ve been wa—’
‘Quiet, Vitch. Keep your voice down. I know you’ve done nothing wrong, in fact you’ve been very good lately.’
‘I have? Oh, I have. I’ve been keeping those Redwallers on their paws, and the others too. I make them march as fast as they can go.’
‘Yes, I know you do,’ the masked fox said silkily. ‘That’s why I’ve got a surprise for you. Now very shortly I’ll be leaving here and taking the slave line with me, but I must leave the others to wait here until I return. This is where you come in, Vitch. I want you to come with me to help with our captives. Meanwhile, tell Scringe and the rest to keep an eye on Threeclaws and Halftail. I think those two are plotting behind our backs, Vitch. They’re not to be trusted.’
The little rat dropped his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. ‘Threeclaws and Halftail, those two bullies, they’re always pickin’ on me. I thought they were up to something. You leave it to me, I’ll tell Scringe and Skinpaw and the others to mark them well.’
‘You do that. We don’t want them stirring up trouble while we’re away, now do we?’
‘Right! The dirty traitors. Er, where are we going, Chief?’
‘I can’t say too much right now, Vitch, but I’ll tell you this much. I need a good assistant to give orders for me. It’s a job for somebeast like yourself, the chance to prove you can handle power.’
Vitch could not help rubbing his paws together with excitement. ‘I’m the one for the job, Slagar. I’ll prove it to you.’
I know you will, Vitch. That’s why I picked you.’
Slagar crept away to resume his watch between the rocks, satisfied that he had laid his plans well. From the moonlit terraces below the badger and the bell, other eyes watched him through the warm summer night.
Slagar stood quite still, not daring to move a muscle. From out of the surrounding darkness grey rats had come silently. He was now surrounded by them. There was a vast army of the creatures, each one robed in black and carrying a short stabbing spear with a broad leaf-shaped blade. There was not a single sound from any of them. As well as he could, the Cruel One took stock of the situation.
The rats encircled the camp. Eyes glimmered in the bushes, spearblades shone everywhere, around both the tall rocks and in the narrow defile between. They far outnumbered Stonefleck’s horde, which guarded the riverbanks. The masked fox had encountered them before when he had passed this way. He remained unmoving, awaiting a sign.
The creatures in front of him parted as a purple-robed rat came towards Slagar. This one did not carry a spear; in his paw he held a white bone sceptre surmounted by a mouse skull.
The rat spoke no word.
‘You have come for the slaves. I was waiting for you, Nadaz,’ Slagar said, his voice sounding hollow in the silence.
The rat called Nadaz shook his sceptre. The skull rattled against its bone handle, and Slagar fell silent.
Nadaz pointed the sceptre at the fox then swept around to poi
nt it at the sleeping captives. Turning again, he pointed between the twin rocks, indicating the direction they would be taking.
Slagar nodded his understanding.
Dark forms surrounded Mattimeo and those chained to the slave lines. The young mouse came half awake as he heard Tess give a muffled groan. Silent paws held his head still, and a pad of leaves holding the ashes of burned grass and herbs was pushed up against his mouth and nostrils. Mattimeo struggled, but the overpowering scent of the compress was too strong to fight against. Dark mists rolled in front of his eyes as his body slumped limply against the folds of a black robe.
The senseless forms of the captives were placed on large oblong shields. Eight rats bore each shield.
Vitch was awakened by a shake from Slagar.
‘Ssshh, don’t make a sound. Follow me and keep quiet. We’re on our way,’ the fox warned.
As Vitch rose, he accidentally stood on Damper’s paw. The weasel awoke with a whimper. Seeing the captives being carried away, he jumped up.
‘Slagar! Where are they . . . aargh!’
At a sign from Nadaz, one of the rats slew Damper with a swift thrust of his stabbing spear.
Vitch shook with terror as a bag was placed over his head. Slagar whispered to him as his own head and mask was enveloped, ‘Don’t panic, they won’t kill us. Just go where they direct you.’
The silent army moved off south between the twin rocks with their unconscious captives and the two slavers.
The pale moon shone down on the body of Damper. He lay still in death, with his sleeping companions nearby unaware of what had taken place in the soft summer night.
41
THE SAME MOON that shone over Mossflower sent silver grey shafts of light through the windows of Great Hall. Two rooks perched in the upper galleries on sentry duty. Half awake and half dozing, they stared down at the scene below. Dark shadows softened the corners of the stones, with lighter areas where the moonlight shone in.
One rook shifted his claws uncomfortably. ‘Graah! It is better in the day when the sun shines warm and bright.’
His companion shook a wing to keep awake. ‘You are right, Ragwing. I do not like this place in the darkness.’
‘The earthcrawlers are all asleep down in that Cavern Hole place. Why do we have to stand about here all night? Nothing ever happens.’
‘Do not let the General hear you say that. If he says stay here all night, then we obey.’
‘Aye, you are right. When the darkness comes again two others will have to stay guard and we will sleep upon the soft beds of the earthcrawlers.’
‘Krakkah! They are good beds. There was nothing like them in the northlands.’
‘What is that, Grubclaw? Did you see something move down there?’
‘Graah! It is only shadows.’
‘No, over there. Look, the big door is open. See, something moves!’
Slowly emerging from a patch of deep shadow, a ghostly figure glided into a shaft of moonlight.
The two rook sentries stood thunderstruck.
It was a mouse in gleaming armour, the mouse from the big cloth!
The spectre turned to face them, but it had no face! There was just a grey misty area where the face should have been. Raising a fearsome-looking sword, it pointed directly at the fearbound birds and intoned in a deep booming voice:
‘Death comes if you stay in Redwalllll!’
Before the echoes had finished rebounding around Great Hall, the panic-stricken birds had fled in terror, tumbling and bumping into each other in their haste to get away from the ghastly sight.
Ironbeak was shocked into wakefulness by Grubclaw and Ragwing. The infirmary door banged open wide as they hurtled through, feathers flying in all directions.
‘General, Yaggah! Whoocaw! A ghost, a ghost!’
‘Death, it said. Death! Kraggak! Save us!’
Ironbeak struck out with both wings, belabouring the rooks. ‘Silence, you thickheads! Mangiz, come with me. You two, quickly, show us where you saw this thing.’
The four birds hurried through to the sentry post in the galleries.
Ragwing pointed a quivering claw. He was shaking uncontrollably. ‘Th-there-th-there-th-theretherethere!’
Ironbeak pushed him aside roughly. ‘Fool, I see nothing.’
‘We were here and all of a sudden there it was. Right there!’ Grubclaw tried to explain.
Ironbeak stared down at the spot they were both pointing to. ‘Kraak! There isn’t anything there! Right. You, Ragwing, tell me exactly what you saw, or I’ll make you more frightened of me than any ghost you’ve ever seen. Now stop yammering and stammering and talk slowly!’
‘Well, Chief, me and Grubclaw were standing right here on sentry. We weren’t sleeping, oh no, we were wide awake. Then I says to him “What’s that moving down there?” and he says to me, “It’s only shadows.” Kraakh! When we looked again, there was a mouse, just like the warrior mouse on the big cloth, except this one had no face. It waved a sword at us, a big long sword, and it said; “Death comes to you if you stay in Redwall.” That ghost spoke in a voice like no mouse. It was like thunder over the northland mountains, it was like, like—’
Ironbeak waved his wing threateningly. ‘Enough! I have heard enough. A ghost of a mouse, eh?’
Grubclaw could not help himself calling out, ‘A m-mouse all in armour, Chief. With a big sword!’
Ironbeak zoomed over the galleries. Winging downwards, he landed on the floor.
‘And this is where it stood. Well, do you see any ghost now, do you?’ he asked, his voice echoing around Great Hall.
The two sentries shook their heads numbly.
Ironbeak called out, ‘Kraggah! Ghost! I am General Ironbeak, greatest fighter in all the northlands. Come, ghost, see if you can scare me!’
The raven stood boldly in the shaft of moonlight on the floor of Great Hall. Nothing happened.
‘General, the big door is still open,’ Mangiz called down to him.
Ironbeak stalked outside. He looked around, then came in again. Slamming the door after him, he flew up to the galleries.
‘You see, nothing inside, nothing outside. No mouse in armour, ghost, call it what you will. Nothing!’
He turned upon the two sentries, waggling his murderous beak under their eyes, his voice heavy with menace. ‘So, tell me again. What did you see?’
‘Nothing,’ they said in fearful unison.
‘Then who opened the big door?’ Mangiz asked.
Ironbeak’s eyes glittered with rage, as he nodded to the sentries. ‘Carry on guarding this place. Mangiz, we will go back to the room.’
As the crow entered the infirmary, Ironbeak gave him a kick which sent him sprawling. Mangiz looked up in surprise. The General had struck other birds before, but never his seer. Ironbeak stood over him.
‘This is all your doing, crow,’ he said, his voice thick with anger. ‘You and your clouded visions. Kacha! A ghost mouse wearing armour, those rooks were scared witless. Then when I go and prove to them there is no ghost, what does my strong right wing have to say?’
Ironbeak imitated Mangiz’s voice mockingly: ‘“Then who opened the big door?”’
The crow cringed, trembling as the General continued:
‘So, I show them there is no ghost and you start convincing them there is one. I am no ghost, Mangiz, and what I say is final. I will teach you not to open your beak at the wrong time.’
The crow screeched in anguish as the big raven’s talons came down.
Ambrose Spike placed a bowl of hot celery and cream soup before Cornflower as Sister May removed her helmet.
‘Try some of this. It’ll help keep your spirits up. Hohohoho!’
Constance held her sides, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes.
‘Ohaha, oh dear! I must say you looked hauntingly beautiful in your armour tonight, Cornflower. Oh haha hee hee hee!’
Not intending a pun, Sister May remarked as she folded the gauze facemask, ‘I
’m glad it worked. It goes to show you what can happen from the ghost of an idea – oh dear!’
They fell about laughing.
‘Did you see their faces when you pointed the sword at them?’
‘Hahaha. They kept bumping into each other when they tried to fly off together.’
‘That was thanks to Constance’s ghost voice. It’s enough to scare anybeast. Hohoho! Go on, Constance, do it again.’
The big badger cupped her paws around her mouth and called in a sepulchral voice: ‘Leeeeaaave some of that sooooooup for meeeee!’
Outside on the gallery sentry post, Ragwing shuddered on his perch.
‘What was that? Did you hear it, Grubclaw?’
The other rook pecked his companion hard upon the bottom.
‘Yak! Don’t you start that again, you’ve got us into enough trouble for one night. Now go to sleep. That way you won’t be able to see anything worth reporting with your dim imagination.’
42
THERE WAS DISSENSION and mutiny in the camp of Slagar. The slavers woke to find the slaves and their leader gone. Worse followed when Drynose the weasel found the lifeless body of his comrade Damper.
‘The filthy murdering fox, he’s stabbed my mate Damper,’ he cried out.
Halftail attempted to pacify him. ‘Rubbish! Slagar wouldn’t kill one of his own.’
‘Hah! Well, what about Hairbelly and Wedgeback? He done ’em both in.’
‘Drynose is right. You keep out of it, Threeclaws. I’ll bet you that lousy masked murderer has even killed little Vitch. Look around. Can you see Vitch?’
Mattimeo (Redwall) Page 28