Part 38 (1/2)
”Stand aside. Let me try with this,” Gurn told the others.
Luckily it was a lock of simple and ancient design. Gurn's dagger jiggled and twisted a few times, then there was a d.i.c.k, and he pulled the padlock curve from the hasp ring.
Inside the cell Auma had her ear to the door. She listened carefully.
”Keep quiet. We've given them our challenge, now lef s see what they do.”
”Are they shouting flogaloggle or whatever it is?” Jube piped up. ”Daft sort of war cry, if you ask me.”
”We never asked you, Jube. Be quiet,” Mattimeo commanded curtly. ”What's happening out there, Auma?”
”1 think they're unlocking the door, Mattimeo.”
”Right, this is it. Get your manacles ready and give the best fight you can manage. If we don't meet again, my friends, goodbye.”
Auma's voice was hoa.r.s.e and urgent.
”They've unlocked the door, wait, it must open outwards. ...”
Mattimeo felt for his companion's paws in the darkness.
”Why wait? Lef s rush them.”
”Chaaaaarge!”
They hit the door. It flew open wide. Mattimeo flung himself upon the first creature in his path. Tim and Sam leapt on another. Even the dim pa.s.sage light dazzled their eyes, which were accustomed to nothing but complete darkness. Grappling on the floor, the young mouse heard his name called by a deep gruff voice: ”Mattimeo, ifs me, Log-a-Log!”
Mattimeo had Flugg by the throat. His paws dropped with a clank of manacles as he yelled out. ”Stop, they're friends!”
Immediately, the fight halted. Mattimeo and his companions stood in the torchlit pa.s.sage, rubbing their eyes. Gum shook his head admiringly.
”What a bunch of young warriors. Don't rub your eyes too hard. Let me open those manacles with my dagger.”
Cynthia began sobbing again, but this time it was with happiness.
The friends were smiling at each other. Gradually it was dawning on them that they were no longer the prisoners of Malkariss, Slagar, Nadaz or any other evil creature.
Mattimeo's laughter boomed around the pa.s.sage walls.
”Hahahaha, free. We're free. Ifs my father's friends, the Guosim!”
'Ifs certainly your lucky day, young 'uns, most of your parents are here. There's Matthias, Orlando, Jabez, Jess, even old Basil Stag Hare. We joined forces with them to search for you. They're down on the big ledge fighting the hordes of Malkariss.”
Mattimeo could hardly believe his ears. His father, the Champion of Redwall. . . here!
Auma let out a great whoop, Sam leapt high into the air, Jube wrinkled his nose knowingly.
'Told you so, I said we wouldn't get far without my old dad catching us up. Do you remem-”
He was seized by Tim and Tess and whirled around, then Cynthia joined in.
”Good old Basil, the Redwallers are here! Hurray!”
Flugg was knocked flat by the whirling dancers, but Mattimeo helped him to his paws. Dusting himself off, the shrew grinned broadly.
”By the fur and the claw, and the law, I'm glad we found you lot, though you've got our Log-a-Log to thank for that. If he hadn't decided to rest here awhile we'd have gone right past you and you'd have rotted in there.”
Laughing happily, Mattimeo knelt to shake Log-a-Log by the paw.
386.
387.
”I knew you'd find us. Oh, I just knew it would happen someday. Thank you, Log-a-Log. Oh, thank y-”
The Log-a-Log of all the Guosim was smiling, even though his eyes had dosed for the last time. He had lived long enough to keep his promise to his friends. He had found their young ones.
Matthias was growing tired. The Wearet seemed to have hidden stores of insane energy. The strange beast was wounded in a dozen different places, but his size and mad ferocity seemed to buoy him up. The warrior mouse went into the sword fighter's stance, blade held ready to cut, sweep and thrust, gaining a small respite for breath as the Wearet circled him, looking for an opening. Matthias turned slowly as the Wearet tried to get behind his back.
In the mouth of the tunnel, Orlando stood alongside Basil, watching the gruelling conflict.
”That creature can't get the better of our Warrior, but I think Matthias is looking very tired now. Is that a very deep gash on his brow, d'you mink, Basil?”
”Tchah! A mere scratch, old lad. I've done more damage to a salad with a spoon. Don't let the Champion of Redwall fool you, Orlando, oh dear no. In a moment or two he'll decide ifs time for lunch and he'll settle old thingummybob's hash, you mark my words!”
Basil was proved right. The moment Matthias saw he had the Wearet with his back to the wall, he came in like a hungry wolf. Sparks flew from the rocks as Matthias smashed home a devastating attack. He seemed to be everywhere at once, roaring, slas.h.i.+ng and milting. The confident sneer faded from the Wearef s face as he found himself battling for dear life. The mouse warrior fought with the strength of two and the skill of many seasons. The Wearet pushed himself from the rocks with a gigantic effort and lunged savagely forward with both spears. Matthias darted to one side, and his blade crashed down like summer lightning, shearing through 388.
i/both spear handles in one heroic sweep. The warrior $ mouse turned a half-circle with the momentum, but the <*- wearet=”” was=”” swifter=”” than=”” a=”” shadow.=”” he=”” leaped=”” at=”” :=”” matthias's=”” unprotected=”” back.=”” pa.s.sing=”” his=”” paws=”” over=”” ;=”” matthias's=”” head,=”” he=”” began=”” strangling=”” the=”” warrior=”” mouse=”” ;;=”” with=”” the=”” broken=”” handles=”” of=”” the=”” spears=”” which=”” he=”” had=”” held=”” i=””>
* Choking for breath, Matthias slammed his swordpoint C down into the Wearef s footpaw. Grasping the spear-hafts with both paws, he crouched deep, leaning i forward. The Wearet screamed and shot over Matthias's ; head, landing with a thud at the end of the ledge, ^i Matthias leapt up and hurled himself onto the Wearet. His foe was waiting. The Wearet thrust all paws straight into the air and Matthias felt himself rise. He struck the very brink of the ledge and rolled over into the void with a shout of dismay.
General Ironbeak fluttered about in the sunwarmed shallows of the Abbey pond. He took a deep drink, throwing his head back as the bright droplets sparkled *i, from his fine dark plumage. Mangiz stood to one side, taking in the scene with disdain. He had often drunk water, but bathing in it was out of the question. The t/raven General shook himself and swaggered briskly j about at the water's edge. Today was a day for great I plans. The omens were good and he felt energetic. ffH ”Oufcfa/ That was good. Now, my Mangiz, are your * visions favoring us? Does your mind's eye see clear * still?”
> ”Kayah! All is still well, my General, though my visions ; say that haste would be unseemly,”
”Kaah! Unseemly, what kind of old farmhen's talk is '- that? Listen to me, my strong right wing, you just keep *: your visions happy and Ironbeak will do the planning.” ”But, General, I told you yesterday, the visions said ^ that-” J ”Silence. Kraggafc/1 have heard enough. Go and bring I 389.
my magpies to me and all my fighting rooks. I have a plan to put paid to all the nonsense that surrounds this redstone house. A good plan, straightforward, with no trickery or sneaking about like thrushes in a hedgerow. From now on we will fight as we did in the northlands; no creeping around the back, good direct attacking, straight wing-to-beak fighting with no prisoners taken. Now go!”
Mangiz was beset by a dreadful feeling of foreboding, though he knew there was no talking to Iron! eak when he was in conquering mood. The crow withdrew, bowing respectfully.
”General, your wish is my command, I will bring all our birds to you.”
Little Sister May looked a simple soul, but that was because deep down she was a very wise schemer. During the night she had laced Stryk Redkite's drinking water with a huge dose of the drug she had concocted for the magpies in the orchard. Stryk was a thirsty bird, and she had drunk deep. Now the great red kite lay soundly under the influence of Sister May's sleeping potion.
Abbot Mordalfus, John Churchmouse, Brother Rufus and Sister May gathered round the unconscious bird, each of them versed in the art of healing as pa.s.sed down through generations of Redwall Brothers and Sisters.
John Churchmouse donned his spectacles and dusted off a slim volume. ”Hmm. Old Methuselah's Index of Bird Ailments and Remedies. What d'you think. Father Abbot?”
The Abbot looked up from a tome he was studying.