17

Log a Log inspected Grath’s longboat.

“You’ve got a couple o’ boards cracked ’ere, matey,” he announced. “I’ll get some o’ my shrews to turn ’er over an’ we’ll patch ’er up again.”

The longboat had shipped water, and now she was over a quarter full. Six Guosim shrews heaved and huffed as they tried to turn the vessel over in the shingled cove.

Grath waved them aside. “Save yore strength, mates, I can do that.”

She dismantled the mast and sail, placing them safe. Then digging her powerful paws under the shingle, she found a hold and lifted. In one move she turned the longboat upside down in a rush of water.

The shrew named Dabby wrinkled his nose in admiration. “Now that’s wot I calls a strongbeast!”

Pine resin was melted over an open fire. Skillfully the Guosim applied it, alternating layers with tough vegetable fibers, until a proper repair was effected on the cracked boatribs. Other shrews had sewn and patched the torn sail, double-strengthening it on all four corners.

Finally, Grath set the longboat upright, and said, “Log a Log, I thank you and your Guosim for the help and kindness you’ve shown me. True friendship can’t be properly expressed by just words, but, matey, I’ll never ferget you!”

The shrew Chieftain kicked awkwardly at the pebbled shingle. “Oh, ’twas nothin’, mate—wot use are friends if’n they can’t ’elp one another? You be on yore way now, afore this tide ebbs. Trimp, Dimple, load those vittles aboard fer our mate!”

Two bags of provisions and a couple of canteens filled with drink were stowed under the stern seat. Aided by a gang of shrews, Grath pushed the longboat into the shallows and jumped aboard. Looking back at her newfound friends on the shore she sniffed and rubbed a paw across her eyes as she began setting the sail to catch the fine spring breeze.

Log a Log waded out and shook the lone otter’s paw firmly. “Ahoy, what’s all this? No time fer weepin’ now, missie, the tide’ll ebb away! Go on, off y’go, Grath, an’ may good luck an’ fair winds follow ye, matey!”

Heading out to catch the south current, Grath leaned over the stern, waving to the Guosim as they sang her on her way from the shore. Deep gruff shrew voices rang out across the waves into the bright sunny morn.

Late afternoon sun cast lengthening shadows over Mossflower. A fire burned in a sheltered glade, and Lask Frildur sat warming his claws, watching his ten Monitors prowling restlessly around the two pitiful figures bound to the trunk of an elm. Long tongues snaking out, cold predatory eyes fixed on both mouse and bankvole, the lizards circled close.

Abbot Durral felt a scaly claw caress his footpaw; closing his eyes tight, he shuddered. Viola, rigid with terror, huddled as close to Father Abbot as her bonds would allow. Durral spoke reassuringly to her.

“Don’t be frightened, little one, had they been going to harm us they would have done so long before now. We’ll face them together and show them that Redwallers are brave creatures.”

One of the Monitors brought his face close to Viola. She smelled the lizard’s rancid breath as he bared sharp teeth and hissed, and she shrieked in fear.

The Monitor General far outstripped his lizards in size and strength. He bounded over and dealt the offending Monitor a savage blow with his tail that sent the reptile crashing into a nearby bush. Then turning to the others, Lask Frildur stood to his full height and snarled menacingly, “Eat birdz, eat fizhez, I zlay any who go near theze two!”

Abbot Durral addressed Lask in a reasonable and friendly tone. “Who are you, sir? Why have you bound us up like villains? We are creatures of peace . . .”

The Monitor General rounded on him contemptuously. “Keep your ztupid mouth clozed, mouze!”

Viola plucked up her courage. “Don’t you dare talk to him like that,” she shouted shrilly at Lask. “He is Abbot Durral, the Father Abbot of all Redwall Abbey!”

A slow smile lit up the Monitor General’s cold features. “Good, good, thiz iz very uzeful to me!”

Durral leaned back against the tree, sighing. “I wish you had not told him that, Viola. It has put both us and Redwall in a very dangerous position.”

The volemaid wept bitterly at the realization of what she had done.

Durral was immediately sorry he had chided her. “Hush now, little one, here, turn your head and wipe your eyes on my sleeve. It wasn’t your fault really, you are young and know nothing of situations like this. Hush now, don’t cry.”

A short time later Romsca strode into the glade at the head of her crew. She pointed to the prisoners. “Aye aye, what’ve we got ’ere?”

Lask ignored the question. He spoke without turning from his fire. “You have been gone long, corzair, why iz thiz?”

Squatting by the flames, Romsca speared an apple on her sword and began roasting it. “I’ve got news for you, matey. Graylunk’s long dead. I found ’is bones, me’n’my crew, over in a pile o’ rocks east of ’ere.”

“What elze did you find, Romzca?”

“Nothin’. Not a single thing, no sign of any pearls, jus’ ole Graylunk’s bones an’ the rags ’e wore.”

“Did you talk with the creaturez at Redwall Abbey?”

“Course I did, that’s how I knew where t’find what was left o’ Graylunk. But mark my words, Lask, those beasts at Redwall ain’t soft, they can fight, I know! If the pearls are anywheres you can lay a belayin’ pin to a bobbin they’re inside o’ that red-walled Abbey somewheres. So, matey, yore in charge o’ shore operations, what are y’goin’ to do about it?”

The Monitor General did not attempt to hide a triumphant smirk. “I have two captivez. The old mouze iz Father Abbot of Redwall!”

Romsca nibbled at the steaming apple. “Well, ain’t you the lucky lizard! But watch yore step, Lask, if those Redwallers find out you’ve got their Abbot, they’ll come searchin’ fer ’im in force an’ tear these woodlands apart! I tell yer true, they’ve got tough, full-growed otters an’ beasts who ain’t scared of battle. Conva reckoned he saw a great badger roamin’ the walltops last time we was ’ere. You might find ye’ve bitten off more’n y’can chew, takin’ an Abbot as ’ostage!”

Lask Frildur stood up decisively. “I zerve my Emperor, Ublaz. I will do what I muzt! We will divide our forzez, half to take the prizonerz back to Waveworm, the other half to remain here under my command.”

“Aye, that’s good thinkin’, matey,” Romsca agreed, only too glad to be away from the hated Monitor General. “I’ll take the ’ostages an’ my crew back t’the ship . . .”

Lask gripped Romsca’s paw so tight that she winced. “You take half your crew and five of my Monitorz, that way there will be no trickz played. I keep half your crew here with my other five Monitorz.”

The corsair managed to pull herself from the lizard’s grip and stood fuming, paw on sword.

“All right, so be it, you don’t trust me an’ I don’t trust you! Permission t’go, yer ’igh mightiness, or will there be anythin’ else whilst I’m ’ere t’do yer biddin’?”

Smiling thinly, Lask produced a slim bone whistle and blew it. “Oh yezz, I had vizitorz while you were gone. They will accompany you back to your vezzel, juzt to keep an eye on thingzz!”

Grall the great black-backed gull and his remaining two companions, looking much the worse for wear, came padding through the trees.

As soon as Hogwife Teasel had told Martin about the corsair ferret and her questions about Graylunk and the pearls, he joined Skipper and his otters on the walltop, a look of concern clouding his face.

Skipper seemed unconcerned, however. “Oh, it was a corsair, no doubt o’ that, an’ I wager there’s others waitin’ orders in the woodlands. But wot’s a crew o’ seascum an’ vermin to us, Martin? We’ll teach ’em a lesson they’ll never ferget if’n they comes too close t’Redwall!”

Leaning over the parapet, Martin peered into the silent woodlands.

“I wish it were that easy, Skip, but Tansy told me that the Abbot is out there with young Viola. They should have been back by now.”

Dismay showed on Skipper’s tough face. “Wot d’you suggest we do, Martin?”

“We’d best get the elders together and hold a quick council of war.”

Tansy and Rollo caught up with Martin as he crossed the lawn with Auma the badger Mother and Foremole.

“Martin, what can we do to help?”

The Warriormouse paused a moment before he entered the gatehouse where the other elders were waiting. “Keep on with the search for the other five pearls, you two. I’ve a feeling we may need them!”

Tansy pulled Rollo toward the wallsteps. “Let’s sit out here. It’s a nice afternoon, maybe we’ll think better out in the fresh air.”

Rollo read out the rhyme from the waxy paper for the fourth time. Like the first of Fermald’s poems, it seemed to make little sense.

Tansy drummed her paws in frustration on the steps. “Ooh, that Fermaldl If she were still alive I’d give her a piece of my mind! This rhyme’s twice as tricky as the last one!”

They sat in silence, racking their brains until the Abbey bells tolled four times. Rollo had started to doze, but the bells woke him, and he said, “Come on, Tansy, let’s go for tea!”

It was such a nice afternoon that Brother Dormal and Teasel had arranged tea in the orchard. Rollo and Tansy took scones, crystallized fruits, cream and steaming rosehip tea and sat with Piknim the mousemaid and Craklyn the squirrelmaid beneath the spreading boughs of an old gnarled apple tree. No sooner had Tansy sat down than Arven’s face appeared upside down in front of her. He wrinkled his nose and stuck out his tongue.

“Tansy pansy toogle doo . . . Boo!”

The little squirrel was hanging by his tail from a bough. Tansy unhooked him and lifted him down.

“You little maggot, you’ll fall on your head one day!”

Arven helped himself to a pawful of cream and ran off, giggling at the clever trick he had played.

Piknim looked over Rollo’s shoulder at the waxy paper. “What’s that, mister Rollo, the words of a song?”

The Recorder threw up his paws in despair. “I wish it were, miss, it’s a riddle.”

“Ooh, a riddle, lovely!” Piknim and Craklyn chorused in a single voice.

Rollo looked at them over his spectacle tops. “You mean that you like riddles? Are you any good solving them?”

The two friends immediately broke out into:

They curtsied prettily as Rollo applauded, saying, “Well sung, misses, you can help us solve our riddle!”

Piknim and Craklyn read Fermald’s poem twice then began tittering and winking at each other. Tansy looked from one to the other. “You’ve solved it, haven’t you?” she demanded.

They began teasing.

“Well yes, but then again, no!”

“We’ve solved it, but not all the rhyme.”

“But we know what the main part means!”

“Oh yes, it’s a six-letter word!”

Rollo could restrain himself no longer. “Well, in the name of seasons and summers, tell us!”

Piknim and Craklyn were real teasers. They went off into gales of tittering and giggling until they were unable to talk.

Tansy placed a restraining paw on the irate Recorder. “Leave this to me, Rollo!” Scooping up two large globs of cream, she faced the laughing duo.

“If you don’t tell me by the time I count three, stand by for a creamy facewash. One . . . Two . . .”

They both yelled out, “It’s a barrel, it’s a barrel!”

Still holding the pawfuls of cream, Tansy commanded them, “Right, show us how you arrived at the answer.”

Piknim and Craklyn talked like a double act, one after the other.

“Well, we don’t know what the first two lines mean, all that stuff about cup of cheer and shed a tear.”

“But that line, my first is in blood and also in battle. Only two letters appear twice in both words, the B and the L.”

“Yes, and the next line’s easy. Acorn, oak and apple have only one letter in common, the A.”

“Now, look at these lines, my third and fourth are both the same, in the center of sorrow and twice in refrain. The middle of the word sorrow contains the letter R twice, and R crops up twice in the word refrain. So it’s R and R.”

“Correct, now the next line. My fifth starts eternity ending here. Simple, what starts the word eternity and ends the word here—the same letter, an E.”

“The final one isn’t too difficult either. My last is the first of last. Huh! The first letter of the word last is an L.”

“So, we’ve got a B or an L, then an A, two Rs, an E and an L.”

“And it’s certainly not larrel, so it’s got to be barrel!”

Piknim jumped up and down clapping her paws, squeaking, “Oh, this is fun, can we help you some more?”

Tansy was musing over the word and gazing at the waxy paper. “What? Yes, of course you can help. Hmmm, barrel, where in Redwall would we find a barrel?”

Rollo put his food to one side. “In the winecellar?”

Piknim and Craklyn were off, running ahead of Tansy and Rollo. “Last one to the winecellar is a jumpy toad!”

Rollo trailed on behind Tansy. “Carry on, young misses, with your fleet young paws. I’ll just take my time like any old jumpy toad!”