Mattimeo

Chapter 12

Mattimeo did not know at first whether he was awake or dreaming. The tip of his ear itched irritatingly, but

it was as if there were leaden weights on his limbs. He could only raise his paw halfway, then the other paw

would start to come upward as if pulled like a puppet on a string. From far away he heard unpleasant

sniggering and a loud swishing noise.

Crack!

The young mouse arched his back in agony as a searing pain lanced across him. His eyes opened with

shock. He saw Vitch swinging a long thin willow cane. The second blow caught him low across the flanks.

Stung by pain and rage, Mattimeo tried to leap up and teach the little rat a good lesson, but he stumbled,

falling backwards with manacles clanking around him.

He was chained!

Vitch laughed nastily and raised the whipping cane slowly. “Come on, spoilt baby, little Abbey pet,

what are you going to do now, eh?”

Again and again the cane rose and fell, striking the young prisoner indiscriminately. In his excitement

Vitch was jumping about as he wielded the thin willow.

“Haha, there’s no silly badger to stop me now, is there? I won’t have to scrub floors and clean

saucepans now. Take that and that and th—”

He danced in too close. Under the stinging rain of blows, Mattimeo saw Vitch’s paw step within his

reach. Crossing both paws tightly, the young mouse tugged hard, bringing the little rat crashing down.

Mattimeo bit, butted and belabored away at his tormentor with the slack of the chain.

“Help, help! Murder! He’s killing me!” Vitch screamed in panic.

Threeclaws the weasel hauled them roughly apart. He kicked Mattimeo down and flung Vitch against

the far wall.

“Hell’s teeth! Stop screeechin’ and shoutin’, will you? What’s going on here?”

Vitch was quivering with indignation. “You stop shoving me about, Threeclaws. Slagar said I could

take my revenge on that one when we had him chained up.”

The weasel looked at him disgustedly. “Huh, you weren’t makin’ a very good job of it, were you? From

what I saw, this mouse was givin’ you a good hidin’.”

Vitch dashed forward swinging the cane. “I’ll teach him a lesson he won’t forget this time!”

Threeclaws caught the cane and pulled it from Vitch’s grasp, then grabbed the struggling rat firmly by

the neckfur.

“No you won’t, snotnose. I’m in charge while Slagar’s not here. There’s to be no noise, see. We don’t

want any creature who’s out searching to hear anything. Now you just behave yourself, or I’ll lay this cane

across your back, rat.”

Vitch slumped against the windowsill, snivelling, but he obeyed the weasel’s order.

Mattimeo looked about. There were others chained up around the walls: mice, squirrels, hedgehogs, all of

them young creatures. He saw Tim and Tess and Sam Squirrel chained against the far wall. Fetters clanking,

he waved to them.

“Sam, Tim, Tess, how did we get here?” he asked.

“Silence there!”

Halftail the stoat shouted, and pointed a dagger warningly at Mattimeo. “Shuttup, mouse. You’ve been

told once. Save your breath, you’re going to need it for marching.”

When Halftail moved out of earshot, a young badger chained next to Mattimeo whispered, “That’s

Halftail. Watch him, he’s a cruel one. My name is Auma from the west plains. What’s yours?”

“Mattimeo, son of Matthias the Redwall Warrior.”

“Oh, so you’re the one that Slagar was after.”

“Slagar?”

“Yes, the Sly One, the hooded fox,” Auma explained. “This lot are a band of slave traders. Though

where they’re taking us I don’t know.”

“Ooh, where am I? Take these chains off me. Boohoohoo, I want to go home, boohoohoo!”

It was Cynthia Bankvole. She had just awakened, chained to the other side of Auma.

Threeclaws came hurrying over. He thrust his villainous face right up against Cynthia’s tearful

whiskers.

“One more peep out of you, missie, and I’ll really give you something to cry about. Now cut out the

whimpering.”

Cynthia was struck dumb with terror.

Slagar came bounding in through the broken south window, the silken hood plastered wetly against his

muzzle. He shook himself vigorously, showering rainwater about him.

“By the claw, it’s bouncing down in torrents out there. Still, all the better for us. If we get going fast

then there’ll be no tracks to cover. They won’t know which direction we’ve taken. On the other side of the

leaf, that lot at Redwall will have been wakened by this downpour, so we can’t afford to hang around. The

false trail to the north should keep them busy for a while. Deadnose and Fengal have taken the cart up that

way, then they’ll circle around and meet us in the forest south of here.”

Bageye lounged in a pew. “What if they don’t, Chief? Suppose they miss us? That wood out there is a

big place, y’know.”

The face beneath the hood seemed to grin. “Well, hard luck on them. It’ll mean bigger shares for all of

us.”

Bageye had to think about it for a moment, then he gave a slow smile.

“Oh aye, huh huh, so it will.”

A long running chain was brought out, and the prisoners were made to stand as it was run through their

manacled front paws and locked at either end. Mattimeo found himself standing between Auma and Tess;

Tim and Sam were behind them. Slagar paced the line, checking links and shoving the captives into place.

Satisfied that everything was in order, he pulled forth a strange-looking weapon and began twirling it

about. It was a short wooden handle, from which ran three braided leather thongs, and at the end of each

thong hung a round metal ball. They whirled and clacked sharply as he manoeuvred them expertly.

“I am Slagar the Cruel. You are my slaves now.” The silk sucked against his face as he spoke. “When I

say walk, you walk. If I say run, you run. If I decide you may live, then you will live. If I take it into my

head that you may not live, then I will see to it that you die. If ever you should get the chance to escape or

make a run for it, my little toy here will bring you back.”

The fox swung the weapon and hurled it. Flailing viciously, it wrapped itself around an oak upright at

the end of some pews. The three metal balls slammed hard into the timber, snapping it off like a dead twig.

As Fleaback retrieved the weapon, Slagar shrugged carelessly at the captives.

“If you had any back legs left at all after my little toy hit you, I’d have to dump you in the nearest ditch

because a slave that is crippled for life isn’t much use to anyone.”

Mattimeo swallowed hard. The cruel one clearly meant every word he said.

Slagar turned to his aides. “Threeclaws, Halftail, we strike south. Keep ’em moving fast. I want a day

and a night’s forced march to put as much distance as we can between us and Redwall. Wartclaw, Tornear,

bring up the rear. If it stops raining, then cover our trail. Use your canes if they start hanging back or

turning the waterworks on. Right, quick march!”

The door was pushed aside as the straggling column made its way out into the torrents of rain that

shook the leaves of every tree in Mossflower Woods.