Mattimeo

Chapter 27

General Ironbeak perched in a great cedar which stood near the northern woodland fringe close to Redwall

in Mossflower country. On the bough beside him, the crow Mangiz watched golden dawn light flooding

from the east. On a lower branch, three magpie brothers, Quickbill, Brightback and Diptail, awaited the

raven General’s orders. In the trees to either side of them a small army of rooks were gathered, basking in

the mild summer weather; it was a welcome change for all.

The birds respected Ironbeak as a shrewd commander. He had given them victories and kept their

bellies full, and he was the most feared fighting bird in all the far cold northland. General Ironbeak had led

his fighters from the bleak places of the north to this new territory, and they marvelled at the warm

weather, the vast green forest with its cool shade, plentiful water and easy foraging. They sat in the lower

terraces of the foliage, content in their new surroundings, but ready to fly at Ironbeak’s bidding.

The raven General relied upon the word of his seer, the crow Mangiz. He seldom arrived at any

decision without first consulting him. Today was different. During the night, Quickbill the magpie had

made his report, apprising the General of the latest news from Redwall. Now Ironbeak and Mangiz perched

side by side, their eyes half closed, not looking at each other as they talked.

“Arrah! It is as I said, my General. The great redstone house is only a smallflight from us. You heard

Quickbill, soon the sparrows will be gone and there will be none to give warning against us.”

The raven blinked as sunlight caught the corner of his eye. “My good right wing, Mangiz, it is as you

foretold. Truly the redstone house is a wonderful place. Tell me more of it.”

The impassive crow ruffled his neck down into dark breast feathers. “The sparrows fly south, my

visions told me this. Where they go I do not know. Grakk! That need not concern us. The roofspaces will be

unguarded, and we can take care of any old ones or nestlings that are left. Below on the ground there are

many earthcrawlers, a great stripedog, hedgepig, waterhound and mice wearing robes. There are no

warriors or fighters to do battle with.”

Ironbeak came alert as the distant sounds of the Matthias and Methuselah bells tolled out a new day in

the Summer of the Golden Plain.

“Listen, Mangiz, the bells are welcoming us. It is a great thing to have a redstone house with bells.

Arrak! The only time before this that I heard a bell was upon the northland’s great waters. It was on a ship

that sank in a great storm. I never knew that houses had bells. What else does your vision tell you about the

redstone?”

The seer crow shut his eyes tight. “The place has big lands enclosed by a wall. Enough food grows there

to feed the whole northland, and there is a pool with fishes in it. Take my word, it is a place of plenty.”

Ironbeak’s bright eyes shone. “Yagga! Well told, my Mangiz. You are seldom wrong. Quickbill, take

your brothers and watch the redstone house. Do not be seen. When the sparrows are gone, report back here.

Grubclaw, Ragwing, take sentry duty. The rest of you keep low and hidden. Rest awhile, my fighters.”

The three magpies dipped their tails in salute before winging off through the trees. Amid a ruffling of

feathers and scratching of talons, the others settled down to enjoy a rest in the warm summer morning.

Ironbeak shuffled restlessly along the maple bough. He was clearly impatient.

“We have travelled far together, my General,” Mangiz said soothingly. “Wait now, the great redstone

house will soon be yours. You will conquer it from the top downwards. Walls were built only for

earthcrawlers. We will arrive like silent arrows from the sky. Patience, Ironbeak.”

The raven leader settled down, reassured. “This is a good land to be in, Mangiz. It is not cold like those

northlands, and the redstone house will be mine. It was your visions that first saw it; if you say the signs

say wait, then we wait.”

Cornflower and Mrs. Churchmouse stood on the south ramparts, keeping tight hold of baby Rollo as he

waved and shouted. The bells pealed merrily while the Sparra folk of Queen Warbeak flew south across the

woodlands in the cloudless blue morning. Constance and the Abbot cheered as lustily as any at the brave

sight. The Sparra Queen circled the Abbey once, then dipping her wings she dropped like a stone, taking up

a zinging flight as she brushed by the creatures on the battlements.

“We find um, you see, we find um!” she called.

Warbeak flew high, shooting like a speeding arrow into the vanguard of the feathered squadron. Soon

they became dark specks which rapidly disappeared into the distance over Mossflower.

John Churchmouse flexed both his paws and massaged the back of his neck wearily as he descended

the wallsteps with Brother Sedge.

“Whew! Well, thank goodness that’s over. Maybe we can catch up on a little sleep now, eh, Sedge?”

Brother Sedge grubbed charcoal-stained paws into his red-rimmed eyes. “Aye, it’s straight up to the

dormitory for me, John. It certainly takes it out of you, sitting up all night drawing maps and writing

poems. I just hope that one of those birds finds Matthias and the others. I’d hate to think that we worked in

vain.”

John stretched wearily. “Ho hum! Well, there’s at least twelve copies and they’re all carried by trusty

Sparra scouts. If they can’t find them nobeast can. I wonder what’s for breakfast?”

“Breakfast indeed, John Churchmouse,” Mrs. Churchmouse tutted airily as she passed by. “You’ve done

nothing but eat all night. Still, I suppose you could find room for some nutbread, blackcurrant cordial and

elderberry pancakes before you sleep the day away.”

John leaned wearily against the Abbey wall. “Hmm, s’pose so, dear. I’ll be in soon. Tell that baby Rollo

to save a pancake or two for me. Basil certainly taught him how to deal with the rations, the little nosebag.”

He wiped his grimy paws on his habit and blinked owlishly. “ ’s funny, I could swear I saw a magpie above

the west wall just then, did you see anything, Sedge?”

Brother Sedge stifled a yawn. “Oh come on, John, let’s get breakfast. You’re seeing things. There hasn’t

been a magpie ever recorded in this neck of the woods.”

The morning wore on with the gentle pace of Redwall life. Three magpies winged their way low and

slow to the maple at the north fringe.

That same morning saw Matthias and his friends marching shoulder to shoulder with Log-a-Log and the

shrew army, south through the trees, upon the trail of Slagar. Orlando stopped in a clearing and pointed

ahead with his axe.

“Is that a cloudbank on the horizon, or some sort of landrise?”

They halted and gazed in the direction he was pointing.

Matthias shook his head. “Could be anything. What d’you think, Log-a-Log?”

The shrew leader shaded his eyes. “That must be the Great South Cliffs. I’ve heard of them, but the

Guosim have never wandered that far south before. Well, let’s press on and see for ourselves. I reckon we

should make them by late evening if we march at the double.”

A short meal break was taken for shrew oatcakes and water. Keeping the cliffs ahead as a bearing, the

searchers set out at a fast double pawstep.

Slagar had split his band in two, half in front and half behind the slave line as they began the ascent of the

rope ladders hanging down from the top of the plateau. The masked fox snapped out instructions.

“Listen you lot, keep your paws tight on those rungs. Don’t look up or down. It’s a good drop, even

from halfway up these ladders. You wouldn’t live through it, so if you want to reach the top in one piece

then keep your wits about you. Threeclaws, you go first to show ’em. When you reach the top make sure

the prisoners are well staked down until I get there. Stonefleck’s waiting up there. Do as he says. Right, get

going!”

Mattimeo climbed stolidly, trying hard to keep some slack in the running line to make it easier for Tess and

Cynthia, who were on the rungs below him. Auma climbed steadily. She was above Mattimeo. Young Jube

would slip now and then, accidentally kicking the badger on her head, but she toiled upwards without

complaint. Tim was above Jube and Sam was the top climber, being the more experienced. He chanced a

look below when they were over halfway up. The drop was dizzying, even for a squirrel. The other slaves

were way below, treading nervously on each separate rung as they were chivvied along by the slavers.

“Come on, dozypaws, or you’ll feel my cane.”

“Up, you stupid creature, don’t look down.”

“Hey you, get a move on up there.”

“Ow! You great lump, you’re treading on my paws.”

It was midafternoon by the time they reached the giddy heights on top of the cliffs. At first no creature

noticed the big rat who sat watching them from a rocky outcrop. It was only when he moved towards them

that they could distinguish him. Stonefleck was grey and dirty white with black markings. He could lie still

anywhere and be taken for a rock, a ground shadow or part of the scenery. He was large for a rat and not

given overmuch to talking, and he carried a heavy bow and a well-laden quiver of arrows. Threeclaws was

taken aback. Stonefleck seemed to materialize out of the rocks.

“Where’s the masked one?” The rat’s voice was flat and toneless.

“He’ll be here soon. Are you Stonefleck?”

The rat did not reply. He seated himself at the cliffs edge and awaited the arrival of Slagar, looking for

all the world like a boulder perched on the brink of the plateau.

The slave lines were staked to the ground by pegs. Mattimeo and the other captives sat regaining their

breath after the long climb, which had been made doubly difficult because of manacles and running line.

The slavers surrounded them, panting hard from their exertions. Over the cliff edge, Mossflower sprawled

away into the sunlit distances. Tess stared out hopefully. Somewhere out there was their beloved Redwall

Abbey, though it was too far away to see. The little churchmouse comforted herself with the thought that

her mother and father, if they were alive, would probably be going in to afternoon tea in Cavern Hole. She

brushed a tear of homesickness from her eye and sniffed.

Slagar was last up. He nodded to Stonefleck.

“Is this all you brought?” the rat asked, indicating the captives.

The silk mask pulled in and out against the Cruel One’s face as he breathed heavily. “It’s enough, rat.

They’re all young, strong and healthy. If you wanted more, you should have tried climbing down from

here and catching them yourself. I’ll speak to you later. First I’ve got business to attend to. Wedgeback, get

yourself over here!”

“Who, me?” The stoat pulled a paw at himself.

“Who d’you think, numb brain, the weasel behind you? Come here.” Slagar’s voice was tight and

dangerous.

Nervously Wedgeback looked round at his companions. They seemed to be intent on minding their

own business; nobeast wanted to see what was about to happen. Falteringly the stoat made his way over to

the cliff edge where Slagar stood waiting. The masked fox seized a pawful of Wedgeback’s soft belly.

Digging his claws painfully deep, he pulled the frightened stoat forward until he was breathing down the

terrified creature’s nostrils. A slight breeze rippled the silken hood mask. Slagar had never looked more

scary. The stoat gulped aloud, his face a fraction from the slitted eyes. Slagar was actually smiling.

“Wedgeback, old friend, let me tell you something. When I leave you in charge of the prisoners, it

means that you have to guard them carefully and let none escape.”

“B-but S-Slagar, I …”

“Hush, ssshhh!” The Cruel One’s voice was deceptively soothing. “Don’t interrupt, it’s bad manners.

You’ve got a lot to learn, Wedgeback. Pity you won’t have time, though. Where was I? Oh, yes. You know

the trouble we went through to get those creatures from Redwall Abbey, yet the moment my back was

turned you let them escape, didn’t you?”

The stoat was almost incoherent with tear. Slagar’s claws were piercing his belly and he felt totally

helpless. “I didn’t know they were g-goin’ to ’scape, honest.”

Slagar began slowly turning Wedgeback so that the stoat had his back to the cliff edge. He was teetering

on the brink.

“But they did escape. No thanks to you, I caught them again. There’s no room in my band for

blunderers, Wedgeback. You’ll have to go.”

Wedgeback’s eyes rolled wildly. “I’ll go, Slagar. I promise I’ll never come back again. Please don’t hurt

me, just let me go.”

“As you wish, my friend. Goodbye!”

Slagar let go of the stoat, at the same time giving him a slight push. The luckless Wedgeback vanished

over the edge of the heights with a scream of despair.

Dumbstruck at the horror of the callous killing he had just witnessed, Mattimeo shuddered. Turning his

head aside, he clasped Tess and Cynthia, who buried their faces in his robe.

Slagar peered over the cliff edge at the broken carcass on the rocks below. Stonefleck joined him, his face

still impassive as he pointed to a small group making their way through the foothills.

“Look, fox, shrews. Do you know them?”

Slagar peered hard at the group. They were just arriving at the rope ladders. Momentarily they recoiled

with horror at the sight of Wedgeback’s corpse. Cupping his paws round his muzzle, Slagar called down to

them. “Who are you and what do you want?”

The answer came floating faintly up on the warm afternoon air. “I am Skan and these are my followers.

I have information for Slagar.”

“I am Slagar,” the fox called back down. “Bring your friends up here, Skan. Use the rope ladders.”

While the shrews made their way up the cliff face, Slagar held a silent conference with his band. They

nodded at his plan. The masked fox laughed quietly.

Skan and his followers were panting with exertion as they pulled themselves on to the plateau. At a signal

from Slagar, the slavers pulled the rope ladders up.

While his followers sat about on the clifftop regaining their breath, Skan spoke to Slagar.

“Whew! What a time we’ve had. We ran all the way, following your trail through the woods. We

haven’t stopped or eaten a thing today. Listen, there’s a whole army coming after you: Log-a-Log and his

shrews. They rescued Matthias and those others from the cave, dug ’em out….”

Slagar was surprised. “What? You mean to tell me those Redwall creatures are still alive?”

Skan wiped sweat from his brow. “Phew! Oh yes, very much so. In fact, they’ve joined up with the

Guosim, that’s the shrews you know, and together they’ve vowed to track you and your band down and

slay the lot of you.”

The fox stroked his silken mask pensively. “Hmmm, well, that’s nothing new. There’s lots of creatures

would like to slay me. By the teeth of hell! I thought I’d buried those Redwallers for good. But why should

you dash all the way here to tell me this?”

“Because I want my revenge on Log-a-Log and his stupid Guosim, and you can help me.”

“Oh, I see,” Slager nodded. “You and your friends have broken away from the shrews due to some sort

of bad blood, is that it?

Skan narrowed his eyes. “Something like that, but that’s my worry, not yours. The thing is now for us

to join together and defeat them. Together we can be a strong force.”

Slagar helped Skan up and put a friendly paw about his shoulders.

“What a good idea, Skan. However, I have no need to fight with anybeast following us. See, the ladders

have been pulled up. There’s no way we can be attacked, we’re completely safe up here.”

Skan looked angry and puzzled. “But what about me and my followers?”

Slagar chuckled. “Well, you can climb down and fight them yourself if you wish, or you can stay up

here with us.”

The shrew was crestfallen. “I thought you’d want to fight them and be rid of them. I suppose we’ll have

to stay here and join up with your band. We’re too few to face them alone.”

Slagar signalled to his crew and they began forming a semicircle around the shrews, who were standing

with their backs to the cliff edge. The slavers were heavily armed. “Right, it’s a deal then, Skan,” Slagar

said. “We’ll let you join up with us. Not with my band, of course, but with my slave line.”

The fox suddenly grasped Skan in a headlock, relieving him of his short sword, which he held at the

shrew’s neck. “Surrender your weapons,” Slagar snarled at the shrews, “or he dies and you lot go over the

edge!”

“You traitor, you scum! We came here to warn you,” Skan spluttered.

“So you did,” Slagar laughed scornfully. “You were prepared to sell your own kind out. Let me tell you,

Skan, when it comes to double-dealing, there’s nobeast better at it than Slagar the Cruel. Chain ’em up!”

Weeping with frustration, the shrews were disarmed and chained to the slave line.

Reaching across, Auma pinned Skan to the ground with a hefty paw at his throat.

“Give me the right answers, turncoat, or you’re dead. My father is Orlando the Axe, that mouse’s father

is Matthias of Redwall, the squirrel has a mother named Jess and the young hedgehog there, his father’s

name is Jabez. Are they alive and well?”

Skan gurgled and spluttered until Auma released him.

“Yes, yes, they’re alive, and an old hare named Basil and a young otter too, though I didn’t get his

name.”

Mattimeo and his friends laughed with delight and relief. Auma gave Skan a mighty pat on the head

that completely stunned him.

“Haha, they’re alive. Oh, I do feel better now!”