Part 40 (1/2)
Matthias ran farther up the underground workings, dealing with any guards that were left and freeing slaves as he went. Climbing over piles of rubble and das.h.i.+ng through half-finished chambers, the mouse warrior swung his sword like an avenging pendulum, striking the chains of slavery to smithereens and dealing death to the oppressors. With both paws aching, he stopped and took stock of his surroundings: a long pa.s.sage with a blank wall at one end. Through the semidarkness he glimpsed a vast carving on the rock wall. It was a frieze of woodland creatures chained together, dominated by a prominent relief of the statue on the ledge, surrounded by robed rats. Relaxing his guard, he laid aside the sword and studied the carvings. Obviously it marked the boundary of Malkariss's evil kingdom.
Slagar stepped out from behind the mouse warrior. The Cruel One dealt Matthias a swinging blow with the metal weights of his three-monged weapon, and me mouse warrior pitched forward, overwhelmed by the striking bolas. Grinning behind the silken mask, Slagar turned his victim over.
”You did well, mouse.! am saved the tremble of slaying Malkariss. When the horde has overcome your wood-landers, I wifl rule here. But first I must fulfil] my oath of vengeance.”
Grabbing Matthias by the throat, the fox reached for the great sword.
”Yaahaa! If s the fox! Kill Slagar!”
Lake a hunting pack, the slaves came through the nibble at me masked fox. He looked wildly about for an escape route, and his eye fell upon the carved mural a few paces away. The silken hood sucked back and forth wUdry as he s.n.a.t.c.hed up his bolas and teapt over the fallen Warrior. Gripping the outstretched left paw of the polecat image, Slagar twisted and pushed in the same way that Nadaz had done the previous day.
The stone polecat swung inwards. Slagar stepped through into the bottom of a deep well shaft with sunlight pouring in from above. He slammed the exit door back into place and mounted the pawholds to the surface, reciting an old woodland verse in a crazy singsong as he climbed: ”A fox who fights and runs away, Lives to fight another day.
It is not over yet, Matthias of Redwall, I will live to take your sword, your son, and your life!”
Wiffing paws helped Matthias up. He shook his head groggjly as the slave army packed in about him.
”Where's Slagar? He was here, wasn't her' Matthias asked uncertainly.
Hmtail gave the Warrior back his sword. ”You'll never 406.
407.
believe this. The fox vanished completely into that carved rock wall. We were never allowed up this end of the workings, so the rats must have made that carving themselves. Anyhow, he's gone. What are your orders? Where to next, Matthias?”
The warrior mouse shook off his dizziness. Waving the sword, he began running back up the tunnel.
”To the ledge. Let us finish this thing. Follow me and shout our battle cry so that my friends will knr w we are coming!”
Like a tidal wave beginning to build out upon the sea, the army grew. Creatures poured out of caves, pa.s.sages and corridors, running with Matthias towards the causeway steps. They heard his war shout and echoed the wild cry until the caverns of Malkariss's Kingdom rang with their voices.
”RedwaaaaaaaallUl!”
n.o.body had really missed Constance. As always, the creatures of Redwail were free to go or come as they pleased, and it was not uncommon for the badger to seek solitude and a place where she could be alone with her thoughts for a day or two. The Abbot was not exactly happy with the situation, for in times of trouble his great badger friend seldom left the Abbey. Mordalfus yawned, settling himself on a makes.h.i.+ft pallet by the tunnel entrance in Cavern Hole. Who could tell what was in a badger's mind? He would probably awake the next morning to find Constance busy cooking breakfast for them all, he thought. He checked that the Redwallers were bedded down safely. Baby Rollo was squeaking in his sleep as he snuggled between Cornflower and Mrs. Church mouse, and a night-light burned dimly in its wall sconce. The old mouse folded his spectacles away into his wide habit sleeve. Closing his eyes gratefully, he composed himself for a restful nighf s sleep.
The fighting birds of General Ironbeak also slumbered peacefully on their dormitory perches through the warm 408.
summer night. Mangiz and the raven leader catnapped on the windowsill, awaiting the hour before dawn.
Inside the gatehouse, Constance had slept fitfully during the early evening. Now she was up and roaming restlessly about. Every aperture she had tried was checked and rechecked. The badger had reached the conclusion she had been locked in by a bird, and that the raven had some plan which he would put into operation quite soon. Picking up a fire iron from the hearth, Constance began working on the hinges of the heavily bracketed door.
As if summoned into wakefulness by some inner alarm, Ironbeak's eyes snapped open wide and he surveyed the sky and the top of the outer ramparts.
It was the hour before dawn.
Rousing Mangiz, he hopped down into the dormitory and began waking his fighters, talking to them in a low voice.
”Kurrah! Now is the time. Brightback, take two rooks and your brothers. Mangiz will show you what must be done. Bring the wood. Akahh! Careful now, do not drop it. The rest of you, follow me.”
A medium-sized plank of pine wrapped in sheets was picked up by Mangiz and his helpers. They slid it silently along the floor, taking great care not to let it b.u.mp against anything. They moved it slowly down the stairs and out into Great Hall. At a signal from the crow, they latched their claws into the sheets. It was hard work, but after a bit of wingspreading and flapping, the plank rose a short way from the floor. With Mangiz holding it steady at the front, they flew low towards the steps of Cavern Hole.
Brightback and Diptail settled the rear end of the cloth-covered wood securely on the third step down, and Mangiz and two rooks placed the front end on top of the barricade at the foot of the stairs, so that it formed a 409.
straight walk from the third step to the top of the table that formed the mainstay of the barrier. The crow tested it. Walking the length of the plank quietly, he ducked his head under the arch of Cavern Hole entrance. Ironbeak had worked it out well. A bird could pa.s.s into Cavern Hole easily this way.
Mangiz flapped one wing three times from die top of the stairs, and Ironbeak and his rooks materialized out of the shadows to join them. The General's quick brigl t eye sized up ttie m.u.f.fled plank on the third stair.
”Karrah! You have done well. We will pa.s.s inside as softly as a feather on the wind. Keep behind me and wait for my signal.”
The Redwallers slept on, oblivious to the feathered head which poked itself into their refuge.
The night-light guttered low as Ironbeak crept in, positioning himself on the inside of the barricade where he could a.s.sist his birds. One by one the rooks came through the opening, bobbing their heads as they pa.s.sed the s.p.a.ce between the plank end and the curved entrance arch. Ironbeak silently beckoned them to take up specific places he indicated; the runnel entrance, the two steps at the far side which led to the kitchens with the larders and wine cellar beyond, and the edges of the barricade to prevent it being moved outwards as an avenue of escape.
Next came the magpies. He stationed them at the top of the barricade to stop any earthcrawler climbing out. Mangiz was last to come through. Together he and Ironbeak slowly climbed down until they stood firmly inside the final bastion of Redwall.
Mangiz could not help but admire his General. Truly Ironbeak was a conqueror. Despite false prophecies and fighters scared near witless, he had stayed in command and fulfilled his own visions. The redstone house would fall to his beak and talon.
Constance worked furiously with the bent and battered fire iron. Her hackles stood erect with an unmentionable dread, and some sixth sense drove her to greater efforts as she battered and bludgeoned at the unyielding hinges. Timber splintered and groaned as she struck the door; sparks flew as metal dashed against metal. The stouthearted creature crashed the fire iron into the door again and again, her paws numbed by the stinging vibrations. She had to break the door down, she had to get back to the Abbey with all speed to save her friends from the unknown danger which threatened.
A heavy talon raked the sleeping Abbot's back. He arched into wakefulness with a grunt of pain.
”Yaggah! Wake up, my little earthcrawlers, this is the day I make you do the dance of death. Ironbeak has captured this great redstone house. Karragaaaah!”
Cavern Hole echoed to the triumphant harshness of the raven General and his fighters, mingled with the confused and terrified cries of shocked creatures.
Tim Churchmouse was wounded in the side by a rat spear. He fell as two of the blackrobes hurled themselves on him. Mattimeo battled his way through with Cynthia Bankvole screaming shrill war cries alongside him, and together they beat off the rats that beset Tim and hauled him upright.
”Tim, you're hurt?” Cynthia asked anxiously.
”Yes. I mean, no. I'm all right. Give me that spear!”
Orlando and Auma stormed through, the big badger practically holding the door as a s.h.i.+eld with one paw as he flayed his battleaxe left and right, while Auma was creating havoc with a billet of ashwood she was using as a club.
”Get Tim behind my father. Quick, take that, you robed vermin!” Auma shouted.
Orlando glanced anxiously at the causeway steps. ”Here comes another wave. There's more pressing up from below. Listen, they're chanting something!”
Sam Squirrel vaulted across like an acrobat. He leapt to the top of the door as Oriando held it upright.
”Ifs 'Redwall'! They're shouting 'Redwall'! Matti-meo, it's your father with an army of slaves!”
Oriando pa.s.sed his axe to Auma. Grabbing Mattimeo, he lifted him high above his head.
”Tell me, young 'un, is that your father?”
Mattimeo was weeping and laughing aloud as he roared at the top of his lungs: ”Yes! Yes! RedwalllU! No warrior can swing the sword of Martin like him. Father! Ifs meeeeeee!”
Down below on the causeway stairs, Matthias heard the voice of his son rise clear over the pounding drumbeats and the noise of war. A great wave of shuddering joy swept over him, and he began fighting like a berserker. Rats dissolved in front of him as he battered his way madly up the steps. Nothing could stand in front of the Redwall Champion and his army.
Basil Stag Hare whooped with happiness as he struck out powerfully with his long limbs.