37

The south wallgate had been jammed shut by the subsidence, so Tammo, Midge, and Rockjaw were leaving by the little east wallgate. Major Perigord and Pasque Valerian saw them off. Perigord was none too happy about Tammo going.

“Now remember, you chaps, keep yheads down an dont attract too much attention to yourselves. Normally I would have sent Tare or Tuny with Midge, but as the rhyme names you, Tamm, well it seems youre the one to go. So take it easy, young bucko, an report back to Rockjaw whenever you can. Well get news of the battleground to you as soon as we hear back from Torgoch and Mono. Look after em, Rock. Ive no need to tell you of the danger theyll be in.

Rockjaw Grang saluted the Major. “Never fear, sah, ycan rely on me!

The soft brown eyes of Pasque looked full of concern. Tammo winked roguishly at her from beneath his vermin disguise. “Dont fret, chum, well be back before you know it!

Perigord watched them threading their way south through the woodland until the three figures were lost among the trees. He locked the east wallgate carefully, then, turning to the dejected Pasque, he chucked her gently beneath the chin. “Cmon now, missie, youll bring on the rain with a face like that, wot! Your Tammoll be back in a day or two, full o tales of how he outwitted the Rapscallions. Cheer up, thats an order!

Midge Manycoats had done an excellent job of disguising Tammo, making him look old and thoroughly evil by giving him shaggy beetling brows to hide his eyes and a matted straggling beard. To this he added a greasy flop hat, lots of jangling brass ornaments, and an old dormitory blanket that was literally in frayed tatters, after he had finished trouncing it about in the orchard compost heap. Tammo not only looked villainous, but smelled highly disreputable.

Both hares found themselves gasping for breath under their camouflage. Leaning against an oak tree, they pleaded with the long-striding Rockjaw.

“I say, Rock, ease off a bit, will you, youve got the pair of us whacked with that pace o yours!

“Aye, slow down, mate, or well perish long before we find the vermin camp. Whew! Im roasted under this lot!

The big fellow turned and retraced his path, halting several paces from them and wafting a paw across his nostrils. “By eck, you lads dont mind ifn I stands well upwind of ye?

Tammo leered nastily and tried out his vermin accent. “Ho harr, me ole matey, you dont expect us tgo sailin inter a Rapscallion camp smellin like dewy roses now, do yer?

Beneath his disguise, Midge winced at the pitiful attempt. “I think youd best keep your Up buttoned an pretend to be my dumb assistant, Tamm. That vermin accent o yours is awful!

Rockjaw agreed with Midges assessment. “Aye, yore too nice-spoken, Tammo, probly cos you was well brung up!

Young Friar Butty brought a tray to the gatehouse that afternoon because neither Tansy nor Craklyn had been back to the Abbey building for anything to eat. Both windows and the door were wide open to counteract the dust. Butty blinked as ne entered, and looked about for somewhere to set the tray down.

“I was beginnin tget worried about you, marm, an you too, miz Craklyn. So I brought you a snack. Theres turnip an carrot bake, cold mint tea, some blackberry tarts, an a small rhubarb an strawberry crumble I made special for you. Theyre fresh strawberries from the orchard, nice an early this season.

Tansy looked up over the top of her tiny glasses. “Thank you, Friar Butty, how thoughtful. Just put the tray on that chair, please. Lets take a break, Craklyn.

While they ate their food, Butty looked around at the piles of books, ledgers, scrolls, and charts piled everywhere, lots of them browny-yellow with age.

Craklyn watched him as she sipped gratefully at a beaker of cool mint tea. “Those are our Abbey records going right back to when Redwall was first built. Unfortunately theyre mixed in with lots of old recipes, poems, songs, herbalists notes and remedies. Help yourself to any recipes that you likethey may come in useful when you get stuck for cooking ideas.

Butty, however, was looking at the latest piece of writing, the parchment on which Craklyn had recorded the words sent via Tammo from Martin the Warrior. He read aloud the second part of the verse.

“One day Redwall a badger will see, But the badger may never see Redwall, Darkness will set the Warrior free, The young must answer a mountains call.

Abbess Tansy glanced up from her seat in a deep armchair. “Why did you pick that part of the poem to read, Friar?

The young squirrel tapped the parchment thoughtfully. “Well, it seemed to me at the time that the first part of the thing was all that you were interested in, that bit about the battle taking place elsewhere and Tammo goin along with Midge Manycoats. Nobeast took an interest in the second part. What dyou suppose it means?.

Craklyn pointed out the first two words of the ninth line. “See here, this line begins with the words One day. So we take that to mean at some distant time in the future. All we were looking for in the poem was Martins immediate message to save Redwall from danger. But youre right, Butty, it is a very mysterious and interesting part you read out. Alas, we cannot see the future, so we will just have to wait for time itself to unroll the message it contains.

Friar Butty put the parchment down and riffled through the mass of papers piled on a nearby shelf. He withdrew a thick and aged-looking volume, blowing the dust from it. “Aye, I suppose youre right, marm, time reveals all sooner or later, probably even the secrets that this old volume contains.

Tansy liked young Butty; he was a fast learner. “My word, that is an ancient-looking thing. Does it say who wrote it? The name will be inside the front cover.

Butty opened the book and read the faded script therein. “The journal of Abbess Germaine, formerly of Loam-hedge.

Mint tea spilled down Craklyns gown as she jumped upright. “The architect of the Abbey! Thats the very volume were looking for! Well done, young sir! Hurrying out into the sunlight, the trio seated themselves on the broad stone steps leading to the gatehouse threshold. Craklyn turned carefully to the first page. “Ill wager an acorn to a bushel of apples that the answer to what lies beneath our south wall is in these pages somewhere!

The crews of the logboats strode into the kitchens, refreshed by their fast trip downstream and hungry as hunters. Skipper whacked his rudderlike tail against a big pan. “Ahoy, Friar Butty, any vittles fer pore starvin creatures?

Mother Buscol waddled from the corner cupboard, waving a threatening ladle at the otter. “Look, you great noisy riverdog, Butty aint ere, see. So dont you come with yore rough gang a shoutin an hollerinround these kitchens when we just got the owlbabes takin their noontide nap!

Gurgan Spearback touched his headspikes respectfully. Theell scuse us, marm, well be well satisfied tsit out in your dinin room an wait tbe served by one as pretty as yoreself.

Taken by surprise at the Waterhogs courtly manner, Mother

Buscol smiled and dipped a deep curtsy. “Indeed to goodness, sir, Ill just warm up the pasties and heat some soup. Would you be takin gooseberry cordial with it?

Gurgan bowed, sticking one of his immense boots forward as he made what he considered to be an elegant leg. “Twould be moren sufficient, mlady, specially if it were served by yore own fair paws!

Chuckling, the old squirrelmother set about her task.

Log-a-Log nudged Gurgan. “You fat ole flatterer, all she was about tgive us was a swipe with er ladle. Ow dyou do it, matey?

Gurgan led them out to the tables, winking slyly. “A smidgeon o sugars worth ten barrels o rocks, friend. Lackaday, who did that to yore nose, Shad?

The burly otter Gatekeeper was seated at the table, feeding candied chestnuts to the little badger Russano. He touched the dock leaf wrapped tenderly round his snout. “Never lean too close to owlchicks, matey, they got beaks on em like liddle scissors. I just found that out when I was playin with em. Savage beasts they are, theyll eat anythin at all!

Skipper laughed and tickled the badgerbabes footpaws. “Anows my liddte mate ere behavinimself, eh?

Shad patted Russano proudly. “I just taught im a new word. Watch!

He held a candied chestnut up, just out of Russanos reach. The tiny fellow reached out his paws, uttering the word gruffly. “Nut! Nut!

The otters and shrews thought Russanos new word was a source of great hilarity. They gathered round him, chanting, “Nut! Nut! Nut! Nut!

The two little owls, Orocca and her husband, Taunoc, came flying out of the kitchens. They landed on the tabletop, contracting and dilating their massive golden eyes and flexing their talons.

“Whichbeast is making all the noise out here?

“Waking our eggchicks with that silly nut-nut call!

Straightfaced and serious, all the otters and shrews pointed at the badgerbabe Russano, who lay innocent and smiling. “Twasnt us, it was him!