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Ironbeak left off tugging a worm from the lawn as Mangiz approached. He saw the crow was alone and glared severely at him.

"Yakk! Well?"

"My General, what has happened is none of my doing. If you peck me and claw me you will be doing me a great wrong."

Ironbeak's bright eyes shifted back and forth between the Abbey and the crow.

"1 will peck the tongue from your foolish beal if you do not stop babbling and tell me what is happening."

"Kaah! It is the rooks and the magpie brothers, my General. They have barred themselves within the dormitory room and will not come out."

"Now what has got into those duckbrained idiots?" Ironbeak snorted.

"They say that the head of the ghost mouse appeared to them last night, and it warned them to stay in the dormitory room."

The raven leader struck his powerful beak sideways against a stone. The noise it made surprised Mangiz.

"Kaahagga! Then I must go and talk to them!"

Mangiz followed the General at a respectable distance. He did not tike the way Ironbeak had said the word "talk."

The raven perched in the broken window space of the dormitory room; his seer crow sat upon the grass, listening intently.

"Kaah! So, my fighters, you have been listening to the ghost mouse again. What did it have to say this time?"

Apart from a few muffled caws, there was no dear reply. Ironbeak dug his claws into the woodwork of the window frame.

"Kraal You do not choose to speak to your leader. Then I will come in and speak to you."

He hopped down and vanished inside the dormitory. Mangiz hunched up, closing his eyes as he listened to the awful sounds of birds screeching and beds being upset.

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He couldn't see the feathers which flew out of the dormitory window.

"Yaggah! Who gives the orders, a mouse's head or Ironbeak? I am in command here. Get out! Out, you worthless rabble!"

Rooks and magpies poured out of the window, struggling against each other to get through the enclosed space. Mangiz winced at the savage sounds of his General dealing out fierce punishment. Not for nothing was he known as the most feared fighter in the north-lands.

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The great sword of Redwall disappeared into the green mists of the abyss. Matthias scrabbled furiously as he rolled over the brink of the ledge, his paws grabbing automatically for anything that would check his headlong plunge. It was the rope which the basket had been lowered down on that saved him. He seized it wildly but was unable to grasp it firmly and he began sliding downwards, the rock face of the chasm passing him in a blur. The Wearet leapt up and began immediately hacking at the rope.

Bellowing aloud, Orlando charged at the head of the woodlanders. Rats went down before the great battleaxe like corn to the scythe. With Basil and the others facing outwards, guarding his sides and the rear, the Warrior of the Western Plain fought his way through. Too late. The last strands of the rope twisted and shredded, to snap under the blade of the spear. Matthias was gone.

The Wearet turned to look up. The last thing his eyes beheld was the huge male badger swinging a double-headed axe in his direction. Orlando gave a great howl of rage. Rage against himself for letting Matthias accept such a challenge. Rage at everything in this evil place that had taken his young one from him, and rage fuelling his great fighting spirit so that he wanted to do battle

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against anybeast that stood in his way. "I am Orlando of the Axe. Eeeeeulaliaaaaa!" The woodlanders' war cries rang about the underground Kingdom of Malkariss as Basil, Cheek, Jess and Jabez headed a wild charge into the rat horde. Nadaz stamped and screeched like a mad thing, rattling his sceptre as he chanted death threats against the invaders.

Matthias felt the rope go slack, and he plunged like a falling stone into the green curtain of mist. Racing through his mind were the faces of Cornflower and Mattimeo, certain he would never see them again.

Whump!

The warrior mouse landed on something soft and yielding. It was a large woven grass basket, thickly padded inside with moss and purple cloth. The force of the fall stunned him temporarily. He lay on the ground beside the basket, trying to galvanize himself into movement and collect his thoughts, amazed at the fact that he had lived through such a fall.

The lid of the smashed basket moved.

There was a slobbering, snarling noise from within the basket, then it fell to one side as something rolled out.

But the creature on the floor beside the basket bore little resemblance to the high statue on the ledge. This Malkariss was gross! The great white mound of scabrous fur, now broken by the weight that had dropped on it from above, was something out of a bad dream. Short floppy paws with long mottled nails which hung limply reached up to wipe the crusting bleariness from eyes dimmed and half shut with age. The mouth sagged open, revealing blackened stumps of teeth.

Matthias sat up groggily. His senses swam, and he began to doubt whether he was still alive when he saw the broken vision of evil crawling towards him. Surely such a thing never lived above or below ground. When Malkariss spoke, his voice was thin and reedy. Not being projected by the chamber within the statue or echoing

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around the rock ledge spaces, it was almost a piteous whine.

"You have looked upon Malkariss. You must die."

Matthias shuddered. The horrible thing had its paw upon his sword, which had fallen dose to the basket. As he was about to lever himself upright, a chunk of rock struck Malkariss upon the back and he arched in pain. Another rock hit the white polecat, striking him on the paw. He released the sword with a whimper. More ,ocks pelted in.

Matthias scrambled away, retrieving his sword as he went. Thin, ravaged creatures, fur welted with lash-marks, their paws manacled, were advancing on Malkariss like a grim army. They hurled rocks at the cringing figure. Dragging slowly forward, pulling slave chains along the ground, they chanted:

"Die, evil one, die!"

"We will bury you with pieces of your own Kingdom!"

Gaunt young hedgehogs, squirrels, mice, moles and otters were picking up big rocks from a pile of debris with both paws. They gathered around the fallen tyrant, heaving the stones onto him with all the force they could muster. Matthias watched in horror as Malkariss was buried beneath a growing mound of rocks. Malkariss could no longer be seen, but still the slaves continued hurling rocks onto the pile.

The Redwall Warrior grabbed a half-starved otter and pulled him to one side.

"Here, hold your chains tight across that rocky slab. Do not be afraid. I am your friend."

The otter did as he was told, hope shining in his dust-necked eyes.

"Strike hard, friend!" he cried to Matthias.

The Warrior's sword whistled downward through the air. With a sharp snap it sheared the links of chain like a billhook chopping grass. Nothing could withstand the great sword of Redwall, whose metal had come from a falling star.

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Once he had severed the lead dragchain, Matthias set about cleaving the manacles from slaves. Young creatures wept openly, and some cheered and began to dance, with broken chains dangling from their paws. The mouse warrior was freeing them two at a time as quickly as he could, for sounds of battle raging above had reached his ears. A black-robed rat ran up, brandishing a whip, but before he could reach Matthias, a squirrel felled him with a whirling length of chain.

"Well struck, squirrel," the mouse warrior called out. "I am Matthias of Redwall. What do they call you?"

Despite his scrawny appearance, the squirrel laughed and swung the chain until it whirred around his head.

"Elmtail. I am called Elm tail. I will buy my freedom with this chain that bound me as a slave!"

"Thaf s the way, Elmtail. When I have freed your friends we will do it together, mate!"

The slaves began cheering, and those already liberated swung their chains aloft.

The battle on the ledge was in full flood. Side by side the woodlanders stood in a tight circle within a circle. The outer ring of shrews, with jess and Jabez, was stabbing and thrusting with swords and javelins, all the time moving in a clockwise direction. The inner circle fired over their heads. Urged on by Basil and Cheek, they pelted stones and arrows into the tight-packed horde of rats that surrounded the woodlanders on all sides.

Commanded by Nadaz, the rats fought back with fanatical vigor, and many a good shrew fell to the stabs of their short spears.

Orlando would stand at the center of the circle until he regained his breath, then with a mad roar he would charge out to wreak slaughter upon the rat horde, only coming back into the circle to wipe the gore from his axe and lick wounds.

Whenever Basil saw a particularly vicious attack, he too would go vaulting over into the thick of it, his long

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flailing limbs laying rats senseless, to be trampled under the masses of their own horde,

"Yahooooo! Take that, you blighter! Here, old lad, have some of this harespaw pie and lie down for a bit."

Thud!

Another rat would stretch his length on the rocky ledge.

More blackrobes pressing up the winding causeway steps piled in to fight, fired on by Nadaz.

"Kill! Kill! Slay the invaders who dare come to the land of Malkariss."

Jess Squirrel angrily turned a rat's own spear upon him. "Waifll I get my paws on that one in the purple robe. I'll make him sing a different tune!"

Cheek flexed his throwing paw and spoke his mind to a nearby shrew archer.

"There's just too many of 'em. If we lose a creature we're one short, but you can knock ten vermin out and twenty spring up in their place."

The shrew sighted and shot his arrow, nodding with satisfaction at the result.

"Right 'twixt the eyes. They never come back for more after that. Whafs that you say, otter? Oh aye, there's no stoppin' 'em, is there? Still, we've signed for the trip, so we might as well make the best of it, eh!"

Above the din of the battle, Jess caught a ripple over on the far side of the ledge at the tunnel mouth. She fought her way to Basil.

"Over there, look. It seems we've got some kind of reinforcements."

Basil did an extra-high leap, taking great care to kick a rat flat on the head as he went.

"Yahaha! Well, blow me old whiskers, Jess, if s the young uns!. Mattimeo! Over here you, young scalla-wag. Redwallll!"

The cry was taken up in answer across the melee:

"Hooray, we're saved! Basil, you old grubweUer, we're coming! RedwallUll!

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Mattimeo and the former captives were battling their way through the throng. Using flailing manacles and spears from fallen rats, they drove across the platform with their cell door in front of them as a shield. Pushing, shoving, thrusting and whipping out left and right with everything available, the young creatures fought their way to be reunited with their friends. Nadaz danced and screamed louder, urging his rat horde to greater efforts. The inevitable victory he had foreseen began to waver as the tide of battle flowed in favor of the brave wood-landers.

The Father Abbot was delivering a stern lecture to Cornflower concerning her ghostly antics.

"I did not approve of this venture from the first, my child. One false move and the General's birds would slay you and Sister May. Constance could be badly hurt too."

Cornflower avoided the stern gaze. "But, Father Abbot, we have got the birds frightened. If the ghost of Martin walks the Abbey by night, we will make the rooks and others lose heart and they will not enjoy living at Redwall. Maybe they will fly off to their northlands and leave us in peace."

The old mouse held up a paw for silence. "We went over this argument once before. At first I thought it might have done some good; perhaps it has. But, Cornflower, you are taking this whole thing too lightly, treating it as a big joke. I feel it in my whiskers, one of you will be badly hurt or captured. The whole charade must stop."

A rebellious gleam shone in Cornflower's eyes. "Matthias would have approved of it. I'll bet he and Basil would have kept it up until those birds were scared out of their feathers."

Mordalfus peered severely over the top of his glasses. "I am glad you mentioned Matthias. Have you thought of my duty to him as Abbot? What if he came marching back out of the south with our young ones, as I am sure he will

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do one fine day? How do you think I would feel, having to report that whilst he was gone I allowed you to play foolish tricks until you were killed? You see, Cornflower, I have a responsibility as Father Abbot to you, Matthias and all the creatures within our walls. Now will you please do as I say."

Cornflower sighed deeply and bowed. "I will do as you say, Father Abbot," she said reluctantly.

The kindly old mouse rose stiffly. He patted her lead. "Thank you, Cornflower. Now, Constance, will you take all the warrior's armour to the gatehouse and put it back carefully."

Constance gathered the armour and climbed into the runnel.

Ironbeak was stalking the edge of the Abbey pond. The silver glint in the waters told him that there were fish about. He marvelled at the abundance of food the earthcrawlers had within the walls of the redstone place: orchards, gardens, a great storehouse in the area below stairs, even a pond with good water and fish for the taking. Sometime soon it would all belong to him. He looked about in admiration, staring at the strong outer wall that would keep other earthcrawlers out. His quick dark eye caught a movement over by the main gate. The big stripedog had materialized practically out of thin air. It was carrying something. Ironbeak crouched in the reeds and watched intently.

Constance took a quick glance around to check nobeast was observing her. Swiftly she unlocked the gatehouse door and slid inside with the armour. The door closed behind her. Ironbeak could see the key still sticking out of the lock. Seizing his opportunity, he rose and glided silently across to the gatehouse. The deed was accomplished in a trice. The raven leader slammed tile door. Sticking his beak into the handle ring of the heavy iron key, he gave it a swift turn and withdrew it from the lock. There was a scrambling noise from inside.

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then the sound of paws pounding against the solid timbers of the door as the badger called out, "Cornflower, is that you? Stop playing about and open this door. Come on, I know ifs you!"

Ironbeak soared off jubilantly with the key looped on his beak. Now that the enemy he feared so much was out of the way, there was nobeast strong enough to withstand a sudden attack. Truly Mangiz's visions were becoming reality.

Inside the gatehouse, Constance had her eye to the ' keyhole. She could see nothing. Whoever had locked her in was gone, for it was quiet outside. The badger ran to the window. Redwall Abbey was a long distance from the gatehouse. It stood serene and peaceful across the lawns, beyond the pond. The window was too small for a fully grown badger to break and craw! through, so she began exploring the place. Other small windows in each of the bedrooms proved useless. Constance noted the chimney vent in the cosy hearth, but it was out of the question; a badger of her dimensions would be jammed right away. She tried the door again. It was solid, with florin spikes and iron bands fixed to the stout oak timbers. After exploring every possibility, Constance resigned herself. There was a jug of water and plenty of dried fruits in the cupboard. She sat at the living room window, watching and waiting for help to appear.

"Stryk Redkite wanna fly 'gain. Must fly, Sissimay!"

Sister Mary scrubbed her paws wearily. "No, no, you naughty bird. You must rest until the wing heals. Now be still, or you get no supper." "Don' wan' supper, wanna fly." The Abbot and Brother Rufus sat with John Church-mouse, taking their supper at a barrel top. John rubbed the back of his neck. "Whew, I wish that bird was a sparrow instead of a great red kite. It would have been much easier."

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Abbot Mordalfus took a long draught of October ale. "It was difficult, John, but I think it was worthwhile. You did a marvelous job putting those new pinion feathers in place. Did you take all your instructions from Methuselah's book?"

John shrugged modestly. "Not exactly, Father Abbot. I did invent attttle fish glue to reinforce the twine that I tied them with, though I actually did manage to get the feather ends into the cavities of the old ones. They should take and be as good as new by the end of season. What about you, Rufus? How did it go with the break?"

Brother Rufus munched wild-cherry flan. "Mmmff, 'scuse me. We used fishbone and feather quill to repair it. Everything was a bit messy, but quite straightforward when you have our Abbot to help you."

Sister May dried her paws. "I've used every kind of ointment and healing nostrum I know to help the operation along. Now we must wait."

"Wanna fly. Stryk Redkite flyover mountain like sky-clouds/' the big bird wailed.

John folded his spectacles away. "Huh, now we must wait? Try telling her that."

The great red bird made as if to move. Sister May picked up a wooden ladle.

"Just you dare, m'lady. I'll tan your feathery hide!"

Stryk perched sullenly, her wing still supported by the wine firkin and the books.

"Warra warrior, Sissimay shoulda be Redkite."

"The very idea of it, you feathery baggage!"

Cornflower had great difficulty keeping baby Rollo away from the wine cellar. He was anxious to see the big bird. At the moment she and Mrs. Churchmouse had the infant occupied by the barricade in Cavern Hole, where he and some of his little friends were busy at their self-appointed task of watching for rooks. Rollo crouched down, peering round the edge of the table that lay on its side. After a while he turned to the mousewives, who were busy shelling peas.

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"No cooks."

"He's trying to tell us there's no rooks," Cornflower explained to Mrs. Churchmouse.

"Oh, I thought he was referring to Mr. Spike when he said 'no cooks.' He's no cook at all."

"Indeed he isn't. Hotroot pepper in the scones! I could have drunk the Abbey pond dry that night. Though our Rollo might have a point. 1 haven't noticed any birds out there, yesterday or today. They may be up to something. Do you think it's worth telling the Abbot or Constance?"

Mrs. Churchmouse rolled a small garden pea over for Rollo to play with. "No, I shouldn't worry. Ironbeak knows he can't get us out of Cavern Hole. It would make him look bad in front of his birds if he failed in another attempt. I think they're doing the same as us, waiting it out. This weather's too hot to do anything. They're probably idling about in the dormitory, eating and sleeping."

Ironbeak was not sleeping, nor was Mangiz, or any of the rooks.

They were gathered at the edge of the Abbey pond, listening as the raven General outlined his strategy, the final plan to conquer Red wall Abbey. Ironbeak paced up and down in front of his command.

"Yaggah! Listen well, my fighters. I will not say there is no ghost mouse; what I say is that it is a trick, some silly thing the earthcrawlers have thought up. When we conquer them I will make them tell us how they did it, then we will throw their ghost from the very top of this redstone house. Kaah! See if it comes back to haunt us then. In the past I was like you. One time in the northlands when I was standing nightwatch, I was sleepy, my wings drooped and my eyes began to close. Yarrak! I saw a great green eagle, a fearsome bird. Instead of running away I flew to attack it. Kaah! It was only an odd-shaped green bush. Do you see what I mean? Tired eyes, darkness, even sun shadows when you are dozing.

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can cause your mind to see strange sights. So let me hear no more of these things. They are like the first sight of lightning to an eggchick."

The rooks were unconvinced, but dared not speak.

"Tonight we will make ready for our final battle," the General continued. "Mangiz sees that the omens are good. I know you are loyal fighters. You have fought under me in the northlands. Now you shall have your reward in this warm country, for we will live together in the redstone house with lots of food, sun and easy times. Here is how we do it. I have not posted guards or sentries for two days now. The weather is hot and the earth-crawlers are resting easy. They have plenty of food and dunk themselves safe in the Cavern Hole place. Kayah! This is good. Let them go on thinking we have forgotten ihem, then they will relax. They have posted no guards at their barricade for two nights now. I have seen this. In the hour before the sun rises at dawn, Quickbill and his brothers will go down the stairs. If all is quiet, they will signal to us. Kraal Silence is the key to my plan. Without the big stripedog we will have them at our mercy."

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The battle beneath the ground raged back and forth. Mattimeo and his friends had joined forces with Orlando and the woodlanders. Heaving masses of rats pressed in from all sides, the double circle continued its deadly function, reinforced by the willing young ones. Jess Squirrel stood alongside her son Sam, but there was tittle time for happy reunions in the midst of a battle. Orlando and Auma lifted the door bodily between them, using it as a large flattener on the black-robed rats. Nadaz kept up his chant, wailing and screaming as he sent in wave after wave of blackrobes. Shaking his eerie bone sceptre, rattling the mouse skull, he pointed to the woodlanders.

"Die, die, you will all die here. Your bones will rot in the kingdom of Malkariss. The Voice of the Host has spoken!"

Basil Stag Hare and Cheek lifted a rat between them. The wildly struggling creature screeched as he was hefted above the heads of the hare and the otter.

"We're goin' to chuck you over to your boss," Basil informed him. 'Tell him f keep the howlin' an' yellin' down. Bad form, /know. Right, me old Cheek. One, two and away he goes!"

The rat flew through the air. Falling short of Nadaz, he landed on the spearpoints of the horde.

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Basil tut-tutted. "Oh bad shot, sir, what've I told you about holdin' your end up, Cheek? Never mind. Try, try again, thaf s the spirit. Grab hold of that smelly chap to your left."

Now Nadaz was standing on the big drum. He pounded it with both paws in a mad dance/ and the noise rolled and boomed, encouraging the rats on the causeway steps to press forward onto the ledge.

Jube Hedgehog and Jabez his father were unas' -ailable. They rolled into one tight ball, hurtling madly about, spiking rats over the brink of the ledge, deflecting spearthrusts with their needled armour casing.

But the rats still came forward.

Tess and Tim Churchmouse formed a trio of flailing chains with Mattimeo, and managed to gasp snatches of conversation as they pounded the rats with the swinging slave-chain manacles.

"Watch your back, Matti!"

"Got him, thanks, Tess. Look out!"

"Good shot, Tim. Are you all right?"

"Phew, my paws are getting tired!"

"Aye, there's no end to them. Look down those steps. They're pouring up four abreast!"

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 dashing 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 passage 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 snatched 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

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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, passages 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!"

Nobody 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 makeshift 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

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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 bump 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

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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 pass 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 muffled plank on the third stair.

"Karrah! You have done well. We will pass 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 assist his birds. One by one the rooks came through the opening, bobbing their heads as they passed the space 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 shield 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 passed 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.

"Hoorah, Cheek old lad. Lef s show these rotters what a fight looks like. Right, you wicked bounders, look out. Here comes the hare for the job!"

Tess Churchmouse and Sam Squirrel flung themselves in like twin windmills of spinning chain.

"This is for the beating and the marching and the lashing and the starving."

Thwack! Swish! Crack! Swoosh!

The woodlanders fought with renewed heart and hope. Black-robed rats went hurling over the ledge, they fell back down the steps, and for the first time they tried to escape by the tunnel entrance. Oriando hurried through and blocked their exit. He stood with his back against the door, wielding his axe.

"Come to me, come to me, rats. Eeeulaliaaaaa!" The shrews fought like little demons under the leader-

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ship of Flugg, their new Log-a-Log. Leaping and stabbing, twisting and hacking, they were everywhere at once, shouting the Guosim war cry: "Logalogalogalog!"

Nadaz saw the battle had gone against the creatures of Malkariss. All was lost. The purple-robed rat slipped quietly off the drum. Abandoning his bone sceptre, he weaved between the blackrobes until he was behind the statue of the white polecat. Only Tim Churchmouse saw him enter the statue. He remembered what he had just seen before leaping back into the fray.

Now Matthias and his slave army were near the top of die causeway steps. Behind them they left a trail of slain blackrobes. Others had leapt from the stairs into the void rather than face the creatures they had treated so cruelly, or the hot-eyed warlord who led them.

Basil and Mattimeo fought their way down die causeway until they met Matthias on the stairs. The old hare twirled his ears in the most curious manner.

"What ho. Warrior. I see you've taken steps to help us, wot?"

The light of battle left Matthias's eyes as he gazed upon his long-lost young one. He threw his paws round Mattimeo, hugging him fiercely. Tears sprang to the Warrior's eyes as he pressed his face against his son's ragged habit.

"Matti, you're here, you're alive, by the stones of Redwall!"

Mattimeo dung tightly to his father, sobbing and laughing at the same time.

"I knew you'd find me someday! I knew it!"

Basil nodded back towards the ledge. "Come on, chaps. There's still a battle f be finished. Those blighters don't want to give up. Gang of bally fanatics, if you ask me."

Outside, the small wooded copse lay peaceful. Butter-

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flies fluttered about the business of summer, grasshoppers chirrupped and small insects slept on mossy stones, oblivious to the carnage that raged in the chamel house beneath them.

A short distance from the copse, Slagar lay behind a rocky outcrop, the deadly bolas grasped firmly in his paws. Warm rays of golden sun beat down upon his torn and stained cloak, making the silken harlequin pattern tawdry against the emerald green of the grass. The hood fluttered and moved spasmodically as the Cruel One muttered to himself, his dreams of power shattered by the very creatures he had sworn vengeance upon. But Slagar would never admit defeat after all he had been through. His breath rasped harshly as he made insane promises to himself.

"Slagar will win in the end. Am I not the Lord of light and darkness? I never needed Malkariss or Nadaz, or anybeast. If the blackrobes win then I will rule them. If Nadaz lives I will slay him and say it was he who betrayed Malkariss. If the woodlanders are victorious then I will slay Matthias and take the sword. I know now, the sword of Redwall is magic, and whoever holds it is the leader."

The defeated woodlanders were huddled against the walls of Cavern Hole. Ironbeak stared at them and wondered how a ragtailed little bunch of earthcrawlers managed to cause him so much trouble.

Under the fierce eye of the raven General, Cornflower drew baby Rollo close and hugged him.

Mangiz strutted up and down, his voice harsh with power. "Krakkah! Now, earthcrawlers, you will pay for your defiance. I am the voice of the great General Ironbeak, mightiest fighter in all the northlands. He does not wish to speak with scum like you. Think of all the silly little tricks you have played. You could not fight like real warriors. Filthy grease and dirt, drugging our magpies, stupid mouse ghosts. Who did you think you were dealing with?"

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"A bunch of puffed-up feather bags!" Ambrose Spike said boldly.

The hedgehog was forced to curl up defensively as he was set upon by vicious rook beaks. Winifred managed to fend them off. She helped Ambrose up, and he shook himself defiantly.

"They couldn't hurt one of the Spikes. I'm all right," he told the otter.

"Where is your great stripedog now?" Mangiz sneered. "She has run away in fright."

Brother Rufus shook his curled up paw at die crow. "What have you done to our Constance, you villain?"

"Silence, mouse! Worry about your own fate. The great stripedog will meet hers in good time, but you, all of you, this day will be your last. You will die in this place!"

Abbot Mordalfus shuffled forward. "Let them go. It was none of their doing. I am Abbot here, and I alone am responsible for defying your leader. Take me."

Ironbeak dashed forward and knocked the Abbot down. "Yagga! I am Ironbeak. I say who lives or dies, earthcrawler!"

Before anybeast could stop her, Sister May leapt at the raven leader. She kicked and bit, tearing plumage from the raven's puffed-out breast.

"You big bully. You leave our Abbot alone!" she shouted.

His dignity lost for a moment, Ironbeak hopped about wildly until he had shaken the mouse sister off. As Sister May lay defenceless on the floor, the enraged raven began attacking her.

"Kraah! Stupid little earthcrawler, you will be the first to die!"

Cornflower and several other creatures were about to run in and help Sister May, when the thunderbolt struck.

A giant red bird came soaring through from the wine cellar into Cavern Hole and struck Ironbeak like a battering ram.

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"Kreeeeeeegh! I am Stryk Redkite. You hurt Sissimay, I kiU. Kill!"

Feared fighter as he was, Ironbeak did not stand a chance against the ferocity of the mountain bird. There was a massive flurry of red and black feathers upon the floor of Cavern Hole. Over and over they rolled, with Stryk always coming out uppermost, her great powerful talons and beak tearing and rending.

"Yaak! Help me!" Ironbeak managed to scream -?ut to his fighters.

The barricade fell with an earsplitting crash, and Constance was in the middle of the rooks like a striped whirlwind.

Cornflower and Mrs. Churchmouse managed to grab Rollo and the few little ones, and hurried them into the kitchens. Settling the infants under the kitchen table, they ran to peer round the archway into Cavern Hole and witnessed the liberation of Red wall Abbey.

Stryk Redkite fought Ironbeak across the shattered barricade and up the seven steps into Cavern Hole, where the two birds took to the air.

The raven had no way of escape. He flopped about, bouncing from the walls and windows, relentlessly pursued beak and claw by the red kite. She drove at him with her beak, raked and clawed him with her talons. Ironbeak tried every trick he knew, plunging and dipping. Whichever way he went, the kite was un-shakably on top of him, around columns, over galleries, under roofbeams, glorying savagely in her regained gift of flight.

Ironbeak tried one last desperate attempt at escape. He winged straight up to the trapdoor leading to the place in the eaves, and he had actually set his claws into the ring of the wooden door when the kite struck full force.

Stryk Redkite circled the ceiling of Great Hall as the

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lifeless carcass of General Ironbeak plummeted down to hit the stone floor below in a ragged heap of raven feathers. "Kreeeeeegh! Stryk Redkite flies!"

Mangiz tried to flee. He took wing and left the ground, flying for the stairs and the ruined barricade.

Constance was waiting. She stood with one paw swinging strongly upward. As the crow drew level with her, she batted out hard. The seer crow hit the far wall of Cavern Hole like a ripe fruit. Then he slid to the floor, never to rise again.

The remaining sparrows of Queen Warbeak's command took care of a rook and a magpie between them. Winifred flattened two rooks with a big frying pan, and Brother Rurus and Sister May accounted for a rook between them.

Immediately, the fight went out of the remaining rooks and the two surviving magpies. Without their leader and Mangiz the seer, they lost heart. Constance pointed a blunt paw.

"Into that wine cellar, all of you. One squawk or false move while you're down there and we'll do to you exactly what you planned for us. Now get out of my sight double quick, before I change my mind and let the big red bird loose on all of you!"

Shepherded by Winifred and Ambrose, the birds fled hurriedly through the kitchens to the wine cellar.

Ambrose, armed with a soup ladle, threatened them, "Move along there! If one o' you rotten eggspawn so much as looks at my barrels of wine and ale, I'll chop off your tails and pickle the lot of you in a barrel of sourapple vinegar!"

Constance set the big table back in its former place, "No real damage done, except to your gatehouse cottage

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door, Cornflower. I'll help you repair it. There! The old place looks nearly as good as new. Father Abbot, Redwall is yours once again. We await your word."

The Abbot glanced up into Great Hall. "Our flrst problem is how to stop Stryk flying about. She's making me dizzy, soaring and wheeling around the Abbey. John, you can make an addendum to the books on birds, concerning the remarkable healing powers of a great red kite's wing. By the fur, that bird looks as if she wants to spend the rest of her life in the air."

John Churchmouse, not renowned for his humor, smiled.

"When I was a young un I could never make a kite that flew properly. Funny how you learn as you get older," he joked.

From the wine cellar, the tiny gruff voice of baby Rollo sang raucously:

"Chop up a rook'n make a soup. Send him to bed wivout any bread, Dip his tail in 'tober ale. An' good ol' magpie pie!"

The sound of happy laughter rang through Redwall Abbey from the wine cellar to the very roofbeams of Great Hall, where the big red bird soared gracefully.

Matthias stood with his paw upon Mattimeo's shoulder and gazed around the hushed ledge. Orlando and Auma were with him, Jess Squirrel and her son Sam, Jabez Stump and his son Jubilation, and Basil and Cheek with Tim, Tess and Cynthia. Log-a-Log Flugg and his remaining shrews stood behind Matthias, while before him there was gathered a motley horde of young woodland creatures.

The surviving blackrobe rats had fled down the causeway steps, back to the green misted caves and tunnels that had been the Kingdom of Malkariss. All along the ledge, down the steps of the causeway and across the floor of the bottom workings, lay the ranks of the slain. In the flickering torchlight, eerie shadows danced around the silent rockface.

Mattimeo took the great sword of Redwall from his father as Matthias stood on a rocky knoll with his paws outstretched.

"You are free!" Matthias proclaimed.

A roaring cheer echoed through the underground.

The warrior mouse nodded approvingly. "All of you who suffered under the cruelty of Malkariss, you who were stolen from your homes to lose many seasons of your young lives chained in dark places, let me tell you

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something. The world outside is dressed in the colours of summer. Grass, flowers, trees and rivers, they are yours. If you cannot remember where you came from, if you have nowhere to go, come with me and my friends to Redwall Abbey in Mossflower country and live in peace there. For two days we have had to fight the powers of evil. Many were slain in the great battle, and you must never forget them, the good creatures who gave their lives to buy freedom for you."

Heads were bowed, and tears were shed, for lost youth and lost friends. Matthias stepped down and nodded to Orlando, who took his place on the knoll. The Warrior of the Western Plain raised his battleaxe as his thunderous voice boomed out:

"Let us go up into the sunlight! But first we will destroy the symbol of wickedness that has plagued this place!"

Orlando and Matthias took their weapons to the base of the great white statue which reared from the ledge to the roof of the immense cavern. Orlando spat upon his paws and grasped the axe handle firmly as he swung it back.

"The purple-robed rat, Nadaz, he's in there!" Tim Churchmouse cried out.

A hissing voice came from between the crystal teeth of

the monolith:

"Fools, you cannot destroy the Kingdom of Malkariss. Now I am not only the Voice, I am King of the void."

Matthias walked round the statue until he found the secret door. It was a tight-blocked entrance, cunningly carved so that it appeared as a mere hairline crack on the

smooth limestone.

Matthias struck it with the flat of his blade.

"Come out, Nadaz, it is over!" he cried.

"Over?" The Voice of the Host laughed scornfully. "No, it is just beginning. Malkariss was old and weak. I am Nadaz, I am strong. You cannot get me. The entrance has a secret seal that only I can unlock from the inside. When you are gone I will get more blackrobes, more slavers, and I will follow you and hunt you down like insects."

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Orlando swung the axe, hacking a chunk from the limestone. "Then go to your kingdom, evil one. Eeeeula-liaaaaaa!"

Woodlanders scattered and began running for the tunnels as pieces of limestone hurtled and flew, shattering against the rocks. Matthias hewed at one side of the statue with his war blade. Orlando pounded at the other side with his battleaxe.

Nadaz screeched and raged inside the head of the great white idol. Steel rang against stone as chunks, splinters, powder and lumps of limestone whizzed in all directions.

The muscles stood out like knotted cords upon the back of Orlando the Axe as he slashed and hacked.

Coated in white dust, Matthias swung the double-edged blade, biting deep into the base of the statue.

Grunting and sweating, the two warriors battered away at the likeness of Malkariss until the limestone began shuddering under the impact. Cracks started to show, running the length of the limestone column which joined the floor of the ledge to the ceiling of the cave. The warriors continued their onslaught, but now dogged-ness had replaced their former reckless spirit. Still they swung with deadly purpose, ignoring the chips and lumps of stone that flew about them like missiles, directing all the force of their blades against the idol, while Nadaz ranted and screamed.

"You cannot escape. I will hound you across the woodlands, through the seasons, by night and day!"

The rafs tirade was blotted out by a deep rumbling that emanated from base to apex of the statue, and the whole ledge began to tremble. Matthias shouldered his sword. Then realization of what was happening took over, and he jerked at the fur of the badger's back.

Oblivious to everything except the destruction of the evil symbol, Orlando the Axe flung his whole frame

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against each crashing blow as his weapon bit deeper and deeper into the groaning, splitting stone. Matthias ducked as the double-headed blade swung past him.

"Orlando, stop!" he roared at his companion. "The whole place is collapsing! We must get out!"

With an explosion like a thunderclap, the statue of Malkariss broke off at its base. Matthias and Orlando ran for the tunnel entrance, hearts pounding, ears ringing, as they raced across the quaking ledge. They had caused the earth to dance, just as Jabez Stump's forebears had witnessed long ago.

The untold weight of the idol dropped, tearing a colossal piece of the cave ceiling with it. A widening rift split the entire ledge into two sections as the statue plunged into the depths, and the rock walls shattered. The two warriors dashed up the tunnel with the entire underground collapsing behind them.

Mattimeo sat in the copse, watching the last of the woodland horde climbing out into the sunlight. Creatures danced and laughed, rolling in the grass, embracing the trees and waving at the great golden eye of the sun above. Basil winked at him. "By jingo! Thafs something

worth waitin' to see, wot?"

Tess flung herself down at the young mouse's side.

"Fresh air and freedom, Matti. It tastes better than strawberry wine and new bread!"

The ground beneath their paws started to tremble. They froze, hugging the earth as the whole copse began to shake.

Jube grasped his father's spikes. "What is it, Pa?" he asked worriedly.

Jabez hugged his young one to him. "The earth is dancing, just as the cliffs once did!"

Jess and Sam dashed to the flight of steps that ran down to the underworld.

"Matthias, Orlando. Get out of there!" they called.

The steps shuddered violently. Jess peered into the gloom. "There's somebeast coming. Make way, Sam!"

Uttle Vitch the rat scampered out as if demons were biting his tail. "Yaagh! My whole cell began moving and the door fell off. Help me!"

Mattimeo grabbed him by the neck. "My father and Orlando, did you see them?"

"No, no, I just ran. If s falling in down there. Can't you hear it!"

Basil Stag Hare flung himself upon Auma and dragged her back as she tried to get to the steps.

"Father, my father's in there!" she protested.

A deep rumbling boom exploded from the bowels of the cavem. Trees started to sway crazily and the earth bucked like a tablecloth being shaken free of crumbs.

Mattimeo took hold of Auma's paw, and they lay flat on the ground. "We don't leave here until our fathers are out!" the mouse declared.

Basil buried his face against the trembling ground. "Well spoken, young un. I second that proposal."

There followed a terrific bang.

The entire copse fell, creating a huge valley. From the hole in the ground where the steps started, a whooshing gust of air, white with limestone dust, flew high into the sky like a geyser.

Two round objects shot out like balls from the mouth of a cannon. Matthias landed high in the branches of an elm. Orlando tut the top of a rowan and came crashing to earth in a cloud of twigs and leaves. The axe and the sword stood quivering in the bole of a young beech.

Then the earth stood still.

Basil got slowly to his paws and guffawed. "Haw, haw, haw! Mattimeo, there's a flyin' white mouse up a tree over there. Looks a bit like your dad's ghost, wot?"

Mattimeo could hardly believe his eyes.

Jabez Stump tapped Auma. "Your old pa looks like a lump of white dough ready for the oven, I reckon, missie. Hu-huh-huh!"

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Jube patted his spikes to make sure they were all there. "Whew! That big hatchet nearly scalped me!"

Orlando rose, dusting himself off in a dignified manner. "Be careful how you talk of that weapon, young un. If s a battleaxe, not a hatchet."

Jess Squirrel and Sam went haring up the beech trunk.

"Stay where you are. Warrior. We'll get you down, but only if you promise to do no more bird imitations."

Matthias smiled at Sam's impudent remark.

"I promise. Just get me down."

That same joyous day, the remnants of General Iron-beak's force were led out on rope leads to the top of the north battlements.

Ambrose Spike and baby Rollo followed them up the north wall steps to the ramparts, the infant bankvole waddling along comically in a passable impression of the bird's gait.

A light, warm breeze stirred the Abbof s robe as he and Constance lined the prisoners up. The inhabitants of Redwall stood about on the broad wall top, glaring at the subdued line of rooks and the two magpies, who blinked in the strong sunlight, huddling nervously together at the sight of Stryk Redkite as she watched them from the wall threshold above the gatehouse.

"Is that all of them, Ambrose?"

"Aye, 'tis. Father Abbot."

"Good. Mrs. Churchmouse, Cornflower, would you put the collars on them, please?"

The two mice emptied iron collars from a sack. Ambrose Spike had made the collars from iron barrel hoops. They were circular and left open in the middle, and slipped easily around the birds' necks.

Ragwing the rook dipped his head cheekily, and the iron collar slipped off and clanged upon the wattstones.

Winifred replaced the collar and whacked the rook with her rudderlike tail.

"Do as you're told, featherbag, or I'll give you something yourwon't forget in a hurry," the otter warned.

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The Abbot folded his paws into his habit sleeves.

"You birds, listen to me! We have not slain you or treated you badly, but this does not mean we are soft. Your leader and his crow are dead; the siege of Redwall is over. I have granted you the gift of life. You will be spared, but you must go back to your northlands and never return here again. This is my decision. I will not slay or enslave you, as your General would have done to us. However, you will take with you a token to remind you of your visit to our Abbey. The collars will allow you to fly, not too high, though. They will also prove an encumbrance. Forget your warlike ways; from now on, survival will be your main object."

The Abbot nodded to Constance.

The mighty female badger took the collar of the first rook between her paws. With a small grunt of exertion she bent it so that the open ends of the iron closed about the bird's neck. The collar was now firmly in place, not too tight, but not loose enough to get off.

From bird to bird she went, bending the iron neck rings into place until the operation was completed. The rooks and the magpies pecked at the collars and cawed angrily.

Sister May lifted her paw high. "Now, you villains, when I drop my paw the bells will ring and you will fly northwards as fast as you can. When the bells have rung three times, my friend Stryk Redkite will be right behind you, and you know what will happen to anybird who tries to stop or fly off in a different direction. So good riddance, birds, I would advise you to fly pretty fast."

Sister May dropped her paw.

Bong.' Boom!

The Methuselah and the Matthias bells tolled out across Mossflower. General Ironbeak's depleted fighters flew off as fast as the burden of the iron neck collars would allow.

Bong! Boom!

The Abbey creatures watched them winging low over

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the treetops, flying north across the summer green fastness of the woodlands.

Bong.' Boom!

The great red kite took off from the west wall threshold with the graceful soaring motion of a natural hunter.

"Kreeegah! Stryk Redkite fly, Sissimay. Look!"

"Yes, 1 see you, Stryk. But remember your promise. Let them leave our country peacefully."

When the birds were lost to view. Cornflower and Mrs. Churchmouse took Rollo with them around the walltop to the south edge. The Abbot watched them go.

"Where do you think you're off to?" he asked them.

"Now that the Abbey is safe. Father Abbot, we are going to keep a vigil from the south wall until Matthias comes home with our young ones. With your permission, of course," Cornflower added.

Mordalfus smiled understanding^.

"Permission granted. You are excused all other duties. Keep a good watch with stout hearts. I know in my bones that our Warrior will return with the young ones."

Cornflower shaded her eyes with her paw, repeating o^etly to herself as she gazed south into Mossflower, "Martin, return our loved ones safe to us."

Baby Rollo had not quite got the gist of Cornflower's quiet words. However, he placed a chubby paw to his brow as he chanted with her, "Marto aturnd luv ones safetyus."

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The Kingdom of Malkariss was gone. So were the last remnants of old Loamhedge. Sunk deeper beneath the earth, the jumble of stones that had once been planned as an underground realm was blocked forever to the eyes of everybeast, choked and cemented in its deep grave by rocks, shale, soil and roots.

Matthias looked up to the rim of the crater, where trees leaned at odd angles in the sunken copse, and brown and black soil showed through the riven cracks in the grassy carpet. Wearily he sheathed the sword across his shoulders and turned to his followers.

"Follow me to Redwall!"

They were halfway up the steep hill when Vitch made a bolt. He dashed downhill, crossed the depression and began climbing the other side.

Matnmeo started to pursue him, but his father held him back.

"Let him go, son. He has no place among honest woodlanders."

They stood for a moment and watched the small rat scramble over a large boulder half embedded in the hillside. Suddenly Vitch screamed and began scrambling back on to the boulder, holding both paws up pleadingly.

"No, no, please. I never told them anything. I wasn't

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going with them. They found me!"

The silken mask and cloak appeared in view. Then there was a whirling sound as the metal-ended bolas hissed through the air.

Vitch died without a sound.

"Slagar!"

Matthias and Orlando rushed down the hillside, unloosing their weapons as they ran.

The crazed fox stood up. He ran halfway to the fallen Vitch, changed his mind at the sight of the oncoming warriors and began scrambling to the top of the hill.

Foam flecked wildly from Orlando's mouth as he swung the axe, pounding uphill as easily as he would over level ground. Spurred on by the sight of his archenemy. Matthias raced alongside the badger, his teeth clenched tightly, brandishing the sword of Red wall, The whole army turned and followed them.

Slagar made it to the top of the hill. He glanced behind, to see the two Warriors halfway up pursuing him. Still looking over his shoulder, the masked fox ran.

But only three paces.

The earth swallowed him up. He fell like a great fluttering moth, down into the one place that had not sunk or collapsed: the old well of Loamhedge Abbey, the secret exit from the Kingdom of Malkariss!

Matthias and Orlando stood with their chests heaving as they gasped in air, staring down at the crumpled mass far below in the deep well. The secret way was no more an avenue of escape, it was merely a deep pit that proved useless except for its final function: the grave of Slagar.

"I swore to slay that silken hooded thief!" Orlando sighed with regret.

Matthias leaned upon his sword. "So did I, friend. This has saved us any argument. Let's get some rocks, at least we can bury him together."

The body of Vitch, stfll with Slagar's bolas wrapped around its skull, was lowered down into the pit. The

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former slaves filled in the last of the pit with soil.

Orlando tamped the earth with a hefty paw. "There's an end to him. There are no words you could say over such a creature."

As Matthias nodded agreement, a poetic voice rang out from above:

"A taker of slaves and a thief, I know not what master he served, Cruel Slagar has come to grief, 'twas all that he deserved,"

"Sir Harry!"

The big owl flapped down beside Matthias.

"Yes, ifs old Sir Harry the Muse.

I see you won victory.

So I flew back to bring you the news.

Just guess what happened to me.

I chased those vermin south,

I think they're running yet.

When I heard a great noise from afar.

So I said to myself 'I'll bet

Thaf s my friends doing battle beneath the ground!'

Then I turned on my wings and flew to see

How a mouse could make such a big sound!"

Basil came ambling up. "Oh, hullo, ifs you, the great flyin' poetic feedbag. How are you, old chap? Hungry, I'll wager. Wot?"

Matthias chuckled as he gave Mattimeo his sword to carry. "Come on, son, let's go home!"

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53

The Summer of the Golden Plain drew to a glorious finish, and the yellow flowers faded and died. Matthias had not returned to Redwall, but still Cornflower did not give up hope. She even pleaded with the Abbot not to name the season. Though Mordalfus had chosen Autumn of the Early Chestnut, he bowed to Cornflower's wishes. Stryk Redkite had returned to her beloved mountains, and the orchard was beginning to get heavy with the rich harvest of fruit and berries.

Cornflower stood on the south wall and faithfully kept up her vigil with Mrs. Churchmouse and Rollo.

"See, the woodlands are turning brown and russet. Soon the hazelnut and acorn will be ready for gathering. We'll miss Jess and Sam; nobeast gathers the nuts as well as a squirrel," she said sadly.

"Aye, beechnuts too," Mrs. Churchmouse added. "Remember last autumn, when all the young ones went into Mossflower nut-garnering? My Tim and Tess bom had long sticks to knock them down from the low branches."

Cornflower sighed. "My Matti got into trouble over the nut-gathering. He took his father's sword from the gatehouse to rattle the branches with. Oh, I do wish he and Matthias were back, Mrs. Churchmouse."

"If hopes were honey we'd have a cupboardful.

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Cornflower. Ah well, we'd best get indoors. If s way past young master Rollo's bedtime. Who's on supper tonight?" Mrs. Churchmouse asked, to change the subject.

"Er, Sister May and Brother Trugg. It should be something nice. Come on, little Rollo, supper and bye-byes."

The infant took Cornflower's paw as they descended the wallsteps.

"A come f morrer on wall?" he wanted to know.

"Yes, Rollo. We'll come to the wall tomorrow, and all the tomorrows after that until my Mattimeo comes back. Do you remember Mattimeo?"

Rollo rubbed a tiny paw into his eyes. He was tired. "A'member 'timeo."

Supper VMS good: redcurrant fritters and honeybread with hot elderberry cordial. The Abbey had been repaired after the bird damage, food was plentiful and the season was mild, yet a gloom hung over the Abbey without the presence of absent loved ones.

Cornflower sat late at table with Constance and the Abbot. Ambrose Spike had gone to his wine cellar, Mrs. Churchmouse and John had carried Rollo off to the dormitory, and all the other Redwallers had gone off to settle down for the night. The only sound was Winifred and Brother Rufus laying the trays out in the kitchen for next morning's baking.

Mordalfus folded up his glasses and yawned. "Still no sign of them yet, Cornflower?"

"No, Father Abbot. But don't you worry, they'll come home soon."

"You have great faith, daughter. That is good. But we must learn in this life that the time comes to be realistic. You must see that they've been gone nearly a season's length now. That is a long time in the span of any creature."

A tear rolled down Cornflower's cheek, and she wiped it away busily.

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"Oh dear, my eyes get so watery when I'm tired. Maybe I should get Brother Dan to make me spectacles like yours."

Constance's heart went out to the brave little mouse, and the badger stood up decisively.

"Right, if s quarter moon tomorrow night. If they're not back by the time the moon is full, then I'm going out to look for them!"

The Abbot nodded his approval. "An excellent idea, old friend. I'll send the remaining sparrows with you and whoever you choose to take."

They shook paws across the table. Constance winked cheerily at Cornflower.

"Come on, Cornflower. Off to bed with you, or you'll be too tired to climb those south wall steps tomorrow."

When Cornflower had gone, Constance shook her head.

"I'm afraid I must agree with you, Mordalfus. A season is a long time, and the longer they're away the less chance they stand of coming back."

"I know, Constance, but I couldn't say that in front of Cornflower. She keeps her hopes up, though she looks so sad these days, and the churchmice too. CXyou really suppose they'll come back?"

Constance toyed with some crumbs on die tabletop. "My heart likes to think so. However, my brain tells me different. At least the hope that we'll be sending a search party out soon should cheer her up. Ah well, come on, young feller, if s past bedtime."

The two friends shuffled off wearily up the steps into Great Hall.

Shortly before dawn, Cornflower turned restlessly on her pallet in the dormitory. She had decided not to sleep in the gatehouse cottage until her family was reunited. Soft voices rang through her head as grey figures stole across her dreams. "Matthias, is that you, are you back?" she called out in her sleep. "No, wait, you're not

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Matthias. If s Mattimeo. Oh, my little Matti, how you've grown. Is it really you? Come closer and let me look at you."

The figure loomed closer out of the mists of slumber. It was a warrior mouse, neither Matthias or Mattimeo, but so like them both. The mouse smiled at Cornflower and pointed in the direction of the south wall.

"Martin becomes Matthias becomes Mattimeo, and so it goes. Go now," a voice said.

The dream faded as some creature tugged at Cornflower's paw.

She opened her eyes and sat up, as baby Rollo climbed on the pallet.

"Wanna waterdrink, Rollo firstee," he pleaded.

Cornflower hurriedly threw on a habit over her nightgown. "Come on, little one, we'll take water and bread up on the wall. Lef s have a picnic breakfast. The sun will soon be up."

Rollo skipped beside her happily. "Water'n'breads, pickernick on wall."

The sun rose over Mossflower like a ball of red fire, lighting the treetops, and dispelling the long grey and purple rolls of cloud. The sky was soft pink tinged blue. Birds heralded the day as a light mist rose from the forest.

Cornflower looked out eagerly over the still woodlands. Not a leaf moved or a blade of grass stirred. There was nothing out there. She set Rollo's breakfast out upon the stones. Then, clenching her paws in determination, she waited. Still nothing.

The morning brightened as Redwail Abbey came alive with the sounds of creatures going about their daily chores and pursuits. John Churchmouse sat next to his wife at the breakfast table. He looked up from the maps of Mossflower he was studying.

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w

"No baby Rollo this morning, dear?"

Mrs. Churchmouse passed the cheese to Ambrose. "No, that's strange. Cornflower's missing too. I wonder where they have got to."

John finished his October ale at a single draught. 'Top of the south wall, of course, where they go with you every day. Come on, I'll take you up there and we'll stand with them for a while."

When they arrived at the south ramparts, Rollo was hurling apple cores over the wall at imaginary rooks.

"Morning, Cornflower. Glad to see you've got a warrior to protect you in case of invasion," John remarked.

"Oh, good morning to you both. Sorry I didn't give you a call, but we decided to come up here early and bring breakfast with us."

John chuckled. "Good job it wasn't porridge, the way that young scamp is chucking stuff about. Here, Rollo, why don't you try throwing a pebble with your little sling. It'll go further."

Rollo tried, but the pebble kept hitting the top of the wall and bouncing back. Half preoccupied with watching the antics of the little one, Cornflower turned away from her vigil. Constance joined them, and as the mice played with the baby bankvole, she looked out across the south reaches, casually at first.

Then Constance froze as if she had been turned to stone. She remained rigid, staring southwards and slightly west.

Cornflower looked up as she retrieved Rollo's stone. "Constance, what is it?"

"Dust!"

"Dust? Where from?"

"Seems to be from beyond that bend in the path, behind the trees. I can't tell yet. Wait a moment. . . .Yes, if s dust all right, and if s coming this way!"

The three mice scrambled to the top of a battlement.

Cornflower jumped up and down, and Constance had to catch her apron strings to keep her from falling.

"Ifs dust! Somebeast is coming up the path, I know ft!" Cornflower shouted.

John Churchmouse quickly donned his glasses. "There must be a great many to send up a dust cloud like that so early on an autumn morning. They'll be round the bend soon. Listen, can you hear voices?"

Constance leaned forward, straining her ears. Faintly she could catch the strains of voices chanting the familiar warriors' cries of Redwall and Mossflower.

Round the bend of the path they came, the paws of the horde raising a cloud of brown dust.

Cornflower could see the leaders as they began to march in double time at the sight of Redwall Abbey.

"Ifs Matthias and Mattimeo, they've returned!" she shouted.

John Churchmouse and his wife yelled aloud, "Look, mere's our Tess and Tim. . . . Hooray!"

Constance leaned out across the battlements. "There's Basil, and Jess and Sam. See, they've got young Cynthia with them!"

"I can see two badgers!"

"There's an owl. Look, an owl!"

"Hedgehogs, shrews, woodlanders! By the fur and daw, there's a great army of woodlanders coming this way!"

'Turn out the Abbey, tell the Father Abbot. Sound the bells!"

Matthias marched shoulder to shoulder with his friends, while the horde packed in behind them gazed up in awe at the red sandstone Abbey which reared above the trees ahead.

Mattimeo began laughing. Tim, Tess and Cynthia pounded him on the back as they shouted and cheered wildly:

"Good old Redwall, tell Ambrose to get the barrels open!"

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"Who's that on the walls? If s your mum. Look, there's ours too. Mum, Mum! Uyou think they can hear us?"

The Methuselah and the Matthias bells began pealing and clanging out across the clear morning air.

Bong! Clang! Boom! Bong! Clang! Boom!

Basil halted the army. "Right markers, get fell in. Come on, you sloppy lot, we're coming home like a proper army, not a ragamuffin crowd. Ranks of six, chins in, chests out, shoulders back. Step lively there, you at the back, catch up. Come on, come on, laddie buck, you're not on a daisy-chain ramble now, /know. Quick march!"

"Never gives up, does he?" Jess muttered to Sam from the side of her mouth. "You watch, he'll be the first to break ranks and charge if anybeast throws a pie over that wall."

The hot morning sunlight shafted down on the brown dust rising between the green and gold leaves of Mossflower as the main doors of the old red sandstone Abbey burst open.

The Abbot walked out at the head of the Abbey dwellers. They lined the path facing Matthias at the head of his army.

There was complete silence as they stood looking at each other.

The warrior mouse unslung his great sword. Stepping forward, he laid it flat in the dust at the paws of Mordalfus.

"Father Abbot, we have come home."

There was a mighty cheer which shook the timbers of the main gate frame, then the ranks broke as every creature dashed forward to greet old friends and meet new ones.

So it was the young ones returned to Redwall.

It took the whole of that day in the Abbof s study for the full story to unfold from both sides.

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Matthias, Jess, Basil and Orlando, with Mattimeo, Tim, Tess, Sam, Cynthia and Auma, crowded in alongside Cornflower, Constance and Ambrose Spike.

Food was brought in to them as the young ones related all that had happened from the night of the feast to Malkariss's cells. Matthias, Orlando, Jess and Basil related the hunt for the young ones from the same night up to the death of Slagar.

It was late afternoon before they were done. The Abbot had listened intently to the harrowing narrative. He shook his head sadly.

"In the midst of all our joyous reunion we must never forget fallen friends, particularly Queen Warbeak and Log-a-Log. I will hold services for all our fallen friends at the first sunrise of spring, and they will remain dear to our memories for all the seasons to come."

In the sad silence that followed, Matthias decided to lighten the mood of the proceedings a little. He slapped his paw down on the table.

"Well then, Mordalfus you old twig, I suppose you've been sitting here twiddling your paws while we've been away. Tell me, how did you manage to keep busy?"

The Abbot chuckled. "Oh, we managed, I suppose. However, I'll let Cornflower tell you about that."

Cornflower took her paw from around Mattimeo's shoulder for the first time that day. She stood up and grinned mischievously.

"Hmmm, it was as dull as ditchwater without our warriors and young ones about. Then one fine day we had a visit from some birds. Let me tell you about it. . . ."

They listened spellbound, fuming with indignity at the thought of baby Rollo being held hostage, cheering for Sister May and her drugged strawberries, laughing aloud at the warrior ghost mouse and the terror it caused among the rooks, and finally applauding Constance and Stryk Redkite at the final struggle.

Mattimeo picked up his father's sword and offered it to Cornflower.

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"Here, Mum, you should be the Champion of Red-wall!"

Matthias shook his head in amazement. "By the daw and the fur! What a brave bunch we have at our Abbey. I would dearly like to meet this Stryk Redkite."

Constance gazed fondly at Auma as she stroked the young one's headstripes. "You will, Matthias, you will, someday. Now, we must find quarters for our new friends. Sister May and Brother Rufus will open the infirmary to all, for sore paws and old wounds must be treated. I'm afraid there's no supper tonight. You'll have to go straight to bed. Anyhow, you lot look as if a long rest will do you good."

Basil's ears flopped with disappointment. "What, no supper? 1 say, Constance old fruit, the only thing that's kept B. Stag Hare on his paws for nearly a full season was the hope of a good old scoff at Redwall. I mean, what's a chap to do if he's had the old nosebag cut off, wot, wot? Bad form, old gel, t' say nothin' of rank bad manners to our guests. No supper. I don't believe it!"

Mrs. Churchmouse slapped Basil smartly upon the paw. "Mr. Stag Hare, will you kindly give your overworked jaws a rest and be quiet! Thank you. Now let me explain. The reason that we are not cooking supper is that the season is to be named first thing tomorrow: the Autumn of the Warriors' Return. All our Abbey dwellers have volunteered to work through the night, but new arrivals must sleep and keep out of the way. Starting at sunup, we are going to hold a feast in the orchard."

Basil's ears stood up like two signals. "A f-feast, y' say, marm. Will it be a big un?"

Cornflower spread her paws. "The biggest one you've ever sat down to, Basil."

"Golly! Bigger than the summer feast?"

"Far bigger!"

"An' you're all goin' to cook right through the night?"

"Oh yes, that's why we don't want you under our paws. Otherwise we might not have it ready on time."

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"**~*v~^r*Q^m

"Got it, maim. AU die weaiy warriors sleep while you " UP a Whackin' b»anfaMl. Right?"

Basil shot out of the Abbof s study like a rocket, calling over his shoulder as he went, "Last one in bed and fast asleep's a rotten egg. Yaaaah!"

Foremole entered the study, rubbing his nose. "Oi jus' bin a-runned over boi a mad crearur'. Hum"

Orlando laughed so hard he hurt his jaw.

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54

The feast of the Autumn of the Warriors' Return began just after dawn. Mist rose in the orchard as the sun began to mount in the sky, and rosy apples dripped dew onto the heads of the creatures who sat beneath the trees. There were far too many for tables, so the entire party sat on the grass.

Chestnuts were baked and roasted on the fire pit dug by the moles; cheeses were rolled from the larders; fresh fruit lay in heaps between honeycombs and small hillocks of new baked bread.

Ambrose Spike tapped the casks of cider, October ale, berry wines and various fruit cordials which stood on trestles around a thick-boled beech tree.

The liberated slaves sat transfixed. They had never seen such an abundance of fare. Moles called for gangway as they trundled deeper'n'ever pies out on trolleys; long poles slung between otters wobbled under the weight of cauldrons of watershrimp and hotroot soup: hazelnut and acorn scones were laid out in rows to cool by the raspberry canes.

Mrs. Churchmouse and Cornflower barely managed to stop baby Rollo diving from a pear tree into a maple and mint cream trifle, while Mattimeo and his friends were

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recapturing their lost season with other young ones from the slave pits. They dashed about, plucking wild cherries from the tops of iced cakes, and sneaking candied chestnuts from an arrangement which Sister May was making. She scolded them tongue in cheek as the intricate heap fell apart for the umpteenth time.

Jabez Stump and young Jube were discovering the delights of strawberry cordial cold from the cellars. They lay beneath a trickling barrel with their mouths open wide, only stopping to munch celery and young onion flan.

Basil Stag Hare was instructing his proteg young Cheek in the art of trencherbeastship.

"No, no, m'lad. Don't grab it all at once. Watch me. A smidgeon of fruit cake on the plate, a slice to eat now; a pawful of honeyed blackberries for yourself, and one tor your plate; a quick swig of elderberry wine, and fill your beaker with beetroot port; now, 'some of the Abbot's Redwall pie; lots of Brother Trugg's celery and woodland herb dip; compliment the old mole fellers on the deeper'n'ever pie an' they'll give you an extra-large helpin'. Right, tackle that lot, and we'll start again!"

Sp Harry was perched among the sparrows.

"Now listen and mark my words As I eat this delicious cheese. You're really quite lucky birds. To live in surroundings like these, Woodland nutcrunch, gooseberry pie, Honeybaked apples too. Bilberry pudding, my, oh my. Just swallow, don't bother to chew."

The Abbot looked apologetically over his glasses at Matthias. "There's a very nice fish baking in the pit, a grayling, like the one we caught together many seasons ago. I'm sorry I didn't wake you up to go fishing, but you were sleeping so peacefully." Matthias shook his head regretfully as he watched the

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moles take the dockleaves from the steaming white fish which lay on the pit embers.

"Hmm, I've missed our fishing trips, but I forgive you. By the way, who did help you? If s more than a one-mouse job, landing a fish that size."

Sister May tugged shyly at the Warrior's habit.

"Beg pardon, Matthias, it was me. We hooked it, played it and landed it together, the Abbot and I."

''Well, I never! Sister May, you're getting a dreadful name around here. Knocking birds out with herbs and cooking pots, helping ghosts to walk, now fishing half the night after grayling on the Abbey pond. What next?"

"Taking my paw to your young Mattimeo's ear, if he keeps upsetting my candied chestnut display. If you'll excuse me," Sister May said, and hurried off.

Baby Rollo had finally succeeded in diving from the pear tree straight into the center of an oversized sliced apple and wild plum crumble. He sat smiling and eating his way out, a mass of sweet acorn crumbs and sticky fruit.

Basil Stag Hare wagged his ears in admiration. "Now there's a buck with the right idea. Here, Rollo old messmate, chuck Uncle Basil a helpin', will you? I say, marm, this Mossfiower salad is outstanding. Is that fennel you've grated in with the carrot? Excellent. My, my, what a pretty pattern of parsley and cucumber around the edge. Talented gel!"

Sister Agnes blushed at the compliments. "Oh, Mr. Stag Hare, have you tried my orchard fruit cake with the buttercup cream center?"

"Lead me to it, marm!"

Jess and Sam had taken the young squirrel Elmtail in tow. They laughed at his curiosity as he sampled everything put in front of him.

"Whaf s this one called?"

"Blueberry cream tart."

"Mmmph, great! Whaf s this nice drink?"

"Oh, thaf s cold mint and apple tea. EXyou like it?"

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'Til say I do! Can I have some of that funny-looking pie?"

"Ssshh! Don't let the Abbot hear you, that's his new invention, wild cherry and glazed plum gateau with elderflower cream. He's very proud of it."

"Mmmm, so he should be, tastes marvelous. D'you use paws or a spoon?"

'Try using your mouth. Hahaha!"

Morning slid into afternoon. A gentle breeze drifted small white clouds across the serene blue expanses of sky, and the autumn sun shone down kindly upon the happy scene as the creatures of Redwall feasted through noontide, across the balmy evening until the night fires and lanterns in trees illuminated the joyous scene below. The half moon came out to watch for the sun. It shed pale light upon baby Rollo, fast asleep on Orlando's lap. The big badger's battleaxe hung from a beech tree nearby. He turned to Matthias, who was drifting off into sleep, holding Cornflower's paw.

"Warrior, I have never seen such a wondrous place as this. Look at the beautiful building, those huge safe walls, the fruit and food growing from the ground; and that pond, it glows like a silver plate in the moonlight. Aaaahhh! These contented old ones, peaceful, wise, and your young ones too, they look so happy and good. Even when I lived out on the Western Plains with my Auma, we never knew such wellbeing as this. Can you explain it to me?"

Matthias let his eyelids droop until they shut.

"Orlando, my good friend, the explanation to it all is merely one simple word: Redwall."

The badger turned to reply, but Matthias and Cornflower were asleep. He looked down at baby Rollo slumbering on his lap without a care in the world. Settling himself down, Orlando turned his face to the night sky which surrounded Mossfiower. He repeated the precious word aloud to the moon:

"Redwall!"

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55

Extract from the diary of Tun Churchmouse, Recorder of Redwall Abbey:

It is the summer of the Rosebay Willowherb!

Great masses of the pink mauve flowers nod their heads by the sides of our Abbey paths. Seven seasons have passed, counting the Autumn of the Warriors' Return, and this will be my second season as Recorder. John, my father, retired. He is now helping the Abbot to compile a great volume of Mossflower recipes. Strange, when I was young our Father Abbot was an old mouse, yet still he carries on changeless as ever. I think he will outlive us all.

The slaves who werefreedfrom the evil ofMalkariss have all settled here. They are our Brothers and Sisters now, and a happier band you could not meet. The Sparra colony is growing and flourishing in our roofspaces, though now it is called Warbeak Loft. Sir Harry the Muse lives up there with them. He was elected Leader and Poetry Instructor. Several times now he has resigned in despair at the Sparra language, though his love of authority always leads him to be re-elected.

Redwall is surely a place of curious happenings, not the least of which is the adoption of Cheek by Basil. There was much amusement three seasons ago when he became officially the hare's young one. Now he caus himself Cheek Stag Otter, and the impudent rascal has also adopted all Basil's manner' isms (and his appetite too).

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Stryk Redkite is at present paying us a visit. She has a mate, a huge fellow named Skine, and they have their first eggchick too. Sister May was delighted at their announcement that the young one is to be named after her. However, she insists on the little female being called May and not Sissimay.

Ambrose Spike is revelling in his latest title, High Keeper of Cellar Keys, and the entire family of Jabez Stump -Rosyqueen his wife and their ten hungry daughters - are living in the wine cellar with Jube. Ambrose has put in an order to the Foremolefor the cellars to be extended, and it will be attended to immediately after the mole crew finish enlarging and lining the tunnels they dug during Ironbeak's seige. They are a useful underground system, particularly in deep winter snow.

The Guosim marched off into Mossflower again; they were born to wander. Flugg is a strong Log-a-Log, wise too, and he brings them to winter here every fourth season. They are good allies.

Rollo and Cynthia Bankvole are bellringers, just as Tess and I once were. Rollo's latest yearning is to become a squirrel and join the band of Sam and Elmtail to become part of the Mossflower Patrol. That Rollo, he will probably want to be a badger next.

Constance is getting ready to sit out in the sun and take things easy. She is teaching Auma all she knows, and some season soon Auma will become the Mother of Redwall. She is dearly loved by every creature in our Abbey. Orlando is Constance's firm friend and they are seldom apart. His axe hangs in Great Hall. As Lord of the Western Plains he only has to stand on the west battlements to survey his lands.

Last summer the Churchmouse family mas united to the Warriors, much to the delight of my mother and Cornflower. Mattimeo and my sister Tess were married. Our parents like to sit out in the sun a lot, my mother and father, Cornflower and Matthias. Like all life, they are growing no younger. They prefer to talk of the old times with friends, and that is

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good. They deserve a tittle rest and peace after bringing us up, though Matthias still joins Basil and Ortando to train the defenders.

It is difficult to believe that we have all grown from young scamps into responsible creatures. But I am rambling, I will finish my writings and go outside into the sunlight, to the ceremony and the feast at the main gate. Forgive me for not telling you earlier, but today we have a new Redwall Champion and a naming party. Matthias is to place the great sword in the paws of his son Mattimeo, and he will be our Abbey Warrior from henceforth; there is one scamp who made doubly good. Did I not tell you? Tess and Mattimeo have a little son and I am an uncle!. My mother and Cornflower chose the new baby's name; he is to be called Martin.

So the legend of Redwall has come full circle, through Martin to Matthias, from Matthias to Mattimeo, and finally back to the little life we are all so proud of: Martin, Son of the Warrior. The bells are tolling for the ceremony, so you will have to pardon me for hurrying off (ite this.

May your lives be as full and happy as ours, and may the seasons be kind to you and your friends. The door of our Abbey is always open to any traveller roaming the dusty path between the woodlands and the plains.

Tim Churchmouse (Recorder of Redwall Abbey in Mossftower country).

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