14

Arven was jerked into wakefulness by Shad the otter Gatekeeper. The burly creature was cloaked and carrying a lantern. “All paws on deck, mate, yore needed at the wall!

Wordlessly, the squirrel donned his tunic and grabbed a cloak, then the pair stole out of the dormitory silently, loath to waken young Redwallers still sleeping.

Descending the spiral stairs to the ground floor, Shad explained what had taken place. “I was asleep in the gatehouse not an hour back when Skipper an his otter crew arrived. Funny, I sez, I was comin over tsee you today, messmate. Was you now, sez e tme, well that is funny, Shad, cos I couldnt sleep fer dreamin that summat was amiss at the Abbey, so I roused the crew an set course for ere right away! Well, theres a stroke o luck, sez I to im, you saved me a journey, matey, ybetter come an look at our south wall.

By then Shad and Arven were at the main door of the Abbey building. Pale stormlit dawn was breaking. A gale-force wind tore the breath from their mouths, buffeting both creatures sideways, and hissing rain glistened off the grass in the cold half-light Sheltering the lantern beneath his flapping cloak, Shad shouted at Arven, “Come an see for yoreself!

Leaning into the tempest, heads down and cloaks drawn tight, both beasts made their way to the south wall.

Skipper of Otters stood at the southeast end of the wall, he and his crew sheltering beneath a monstrous jumble of branches, limbs, twigs, leaves, and stone blocks. Arven nodded briefly to the otters, then, launching himself into the mass of foliage, he shed his cloak and climbed nimbly upward into the tangle. No squirrel could climb like the Champion of Redwall; in a short time Arven was vaulting out of the foliage onto the battlemented walkway that formed the walltop. Bracing himself against the stormy onslaught, he surveyed the damage and its cause.

Mossflower woodlands grew practically right up to the east wall, curving slightly at the south corner and petering out to give way to gently sloping grassland. Directly at the curve a great beech tree had fallen upon the end of the south wall. The ancient forest giant had stood there for untold seasons in high and wide-girthed splendor, only to be felled during the night by the irresistible force sent by weathers wildness.

Near the beech base, Arven could see where the top-heavy tree had broken. Long, thick wood splinters shone white in the rain like the bone fragments and shards of some dreadful wound. In its crashing fall the trunk had hit the wall, scattering battlements, walkway, and sandstone blocks, the tremendous weight hewing a large V shape into Redwalls outer defenses.

As Arven came springing back down to ground, Skipper draped the squirrels cloak about his shoulders.

“Much damage, mate? he asked.

Arven nodded. “Much!

Skipper indicated his sturdy crew with a wave. “Well, much or little, it dont bother us, matey, were ere to lend a paw in any way yneed otters. Where dyou want us t start?

Arven patted the faithful creatures back. “Youre a good un, Skip, you and your crew. This Abbey only stands by the goodness and loyalty of its friends. But theres nothin we can do whilst the weather keeps up like this. Come on, lets get you lot inside and find you some breakfast by the fire.

Skippers craggy face broke into a smile. “Lead us to it, me ole mate!

Mother Buscol was official Redwall Friar, and the small fat squirrel liked nothing better in life than to cook. She watched the hungry otter crew poking their heads around her kitchen doorway and hid her pleasure by scowling at them.

“Indeed to goodness, an what do all you great rough beasts want, hangin around my kitchens like a flock of gannets?

Skipper winked roguishly at her. “Feedin, marm!

Narrowing her eyes, she shook a ladle at him. “Hot oatmeal an mint teas all youre gettin out o me this morn.

Skipper came bounding in and swept Mother Buscol off her paws, planting several hearty kisses on her chubby cheeks. “Oatmeal an mint tea is fer Dibbuns, me beauty. Wheres the good October Ale an a pan of shrimpnhotroot soup, aye, an some o those shorty-cakes fer afters? Cummon, tell me afore I kisses you til sundown. Haharr!

Her slippered paws kicked the air as she beat the otter playfully with her ladle. “Lackaday, put me down, you great wiry whiskered oaf, or Ill clap you in a boiler an make riverdog pudden of you!

Behind her back, Shad had purloined a batch of hot scones, and now he slid past Mother Buscol, chuckling. “Wheres yore manners, mate? Put the pore creature down an well wait in Cavern Ole til brekkfists ready.

Laughing, Mother Buscol went about her business. “Indeed to goodness look you, shrimpnhotroot soup with the best October Ale an my good shortybreads. Whatever next?

Dibbuns hastily finished their meal and trundled into Cavern Hole to sport with the playful otters.

“Skipper, Skipper, it me, Sloey, I jump offa table an you catch me!

“Burr, old ee still, zurr hotter, oi wants to ride on ee back!

“Teehee! We tella Muvver Buscol you steal er scones!

Otters rolled and wrestled happily about the floor with the babes, tickling, swinging, and playfighting. Abbess Tansy and Craklyn came to see what all the noise was about, and Tansy shook her head at Skipper and his crew, sprawled on the floor.

“Really, sir, I dont know whos the worse, you or these babes. Come on, Dibbuns, be off with you. The elders need to talk with Skipper while he has his breakfast.

Foremole Diggum scratched his head as he inspected the plans Craklyn had drawn up on a parchment. “Umm, can ee go through et all agin, marm, then mayap oill unnerstan wot ee wants a doin!

The Redwall Recorder outlined her scheme for the second time. “As I said, the tree falling has started demolition on the wall, so its not all bad. But how to move the tree so we can continue with the job? Heres my idea. First we need axes and saws to lop off all the top foliage of the beech, then, if it is not already broken clean of its stump, we must sever it. Once that job is done the tree must be supported by struts, to make sure it doesnt fall any further. Then the remaining wall can be removed, the tree trunk dropped and rolled out of the way. Clear?

Diggum continued scratching his head. “Hurr, tis a pity oi be such a simplebeast, oim still all aswoggled with ee plan, marm.

Arven stood up decisively. “Oh, youll get the hang of it as we go along, Diggum. Whats the state of the weather outdoors now?

Gurrbowl the Cellar Keeper and Viola Bankvole went outside. They were back shortly to report. “The rain has stopped, though its still quite windy; sky over to the south is clearing. If the wind dies down twill be a fine afternoon.

Skipper quaffed his beaker of October Ale. “Right yare, marm, then lets get those axes an saws out o the toolstore an sharpen em up. Well start work after lunch!

Still mystified by the plan, Foremole Diggum decided to inspect the job from a different angle. He gathered together a few of his trusty moles for the task. “Yurr, Drubb, Bunto, Wuller, an ee Truggle, oi figger ets toime usns taked a lukk at ee wall proper loik!

Skipper was greasing a double-pawed saw when he noticed the moles leaving, carrying nothing but a few coiled ropes. “Ahoy, where dyou suppose theyre bound?

Arven glanced up from the axblade he was whetting. “Leave them be, Skip. I could see Diggum wasnt too happy with Craklyns plan, so I suppose hes going to take a look for himself. You know moles, they always look at things in a different way from otherbeasts, and quite often theirs is the most sensible way. Maybe theyll find out something we dont know.

Foremole Diggum moved slowly along the wallbase on all fours, sniffing the ground, scratching the stone, and probing the soil with his strong digging claws. About midway along the south wall he stopped and, pointing to a spot on the sandstone blocks three courses up, addressed Truggle: “Roight thurr, marm!

The other moles nodded wisely; their Foremole had made a good choice. Truggle produced a small wooden mallet and began striking the place Diggum had indicated. Diggum placed an ear against the ground, directly below where she was hitting, and listened carefully, ignoring the wind and the wet grass. When he had heard enough, the Foremole signaled Truggle to stop and straightened up.

Drubb blinked earnestly at Diggum. “Boi okey, gaffer, oi can tell by ee face youm founded summat.

Foremole Diggum took a twig and stuck it into the ground on the place where his ear had been.

“Ho oi found summat sure enuff, doant know ow oi missed et afore. Wot caused ee wall to sinknwobble? Ee answers daown thurr, tis a cave or mayap summ sort o chamber!

Bunto shook his Foremole by the paw. “Hurr! Oi knowed eed foind ee answer. Wot now, Diggum, zurr?

Foremole Diggums homely face wrinkled into a cheery smile. “Usns got some diggin tdo!

Five sets of digging claws met over the twig.

“Whom dig deepnmake best oles? Only usns, we be moles!