Sister Portula called across to the haremaid. “Don’t fret about Horty, he’ll be back soon, eating us out of house and home, no doubt. You’ll see!”
Martha smiled wanly. “I’m sure he will, Sister, but I can’t help feeling concerned about him.”
Abbot Carrul put aside his supper and stood up. “What you need is a jolly song. Shall I sing you a little ditty I once learned from a sea otter?”
This surprised Martha. “You singing, Father Abbot?”
Carrul raised his eyebrows. “What’s so odd in that, may I ask, miss? Gurvel once said I had a voice like a bird!”
Brother Gelf chuckled. “Aye, a dying duck. Come on then, Carrul, let’s hear ye.”
The Abbot took a deep breath. “Right, here goes. But you must sing this line at the end of each verse. Heave haul away, twice around the bay. Yaah!”
All the Redwallers wanted to see their Abbot singing, so they agreed readily. Carrul tapped the tabletop until he had the rhythm, then launched into the song. For an old mouse, he had quite a strong, ringing baritone.
“On the good ship Leakylea,
the captain was a frog,
the mate was a bumblebee,
and the cook was an old hedgehog.
Heave haul away, twice around the bay. Yaah!
I was born at an early age,
and sent straight off to sea,
with a flea in an iron cage,
on the good ship Leakylea.
Heave haul away, twice around the bay. Yaah!
We sailed the seas so rough,
and never washed the dishes,
ate pans o’ skilly’n’duff,
and laughed at all the fishes.
Heave haul away, twice around the bay. Yaah!
We ate all we could chew,
my flea grew bigger’n me,
’cos he’d ate more’n all the crew,
aboard the Leakylea.
Heave haul away, twice around the bay. Yaah!
The the ship sank in a gale,
I was rescued by my flea,
we’re all that’s left to tell the tale,
of the poor old Leakylea.
Heave haul away, twice around the bay. Yaaaah!”
Martha applauded, laughing along with the other Redwallers.
Abbot Carrul bowed modestly and winked at Brother Gelf. “Not bad for a dying duck, eh?”
Remembering her responsibility to the Dibbuns, Martha called to them. “Bedtime, little ’uns, come on now!”
Strangely, the three who were most likely to protest—Muggum, Shilly and Yooch—went quietly. The other Abbeybabes made their usual loud protest, but to no avail.
Sister Setiva wagged a severe paw at them. “Up tae your beds, this verra instant, or ye’ll have me tae reckon with!”
Martha watched the last one—Buffle the shrewbabe—scamper through the doorway, where he turned and glared at everybeast. “Kumfuggleworragarrumbubbub . . . Kurch!”
Setiva picked up a ladle and made as if to chase him. “Ah cannae tell what you’re sayin’, ye wee rogue. But, like as no’, ’tis somethin’ verra naughty! Ye’d best get toddlin’ afore I catch up wi’ ye!”
Buffle stood his ground long enough to twiddle a paw to his nose at the shrewnurse, then he bolted off, giggling.
Martha tried hard not to laugh. “Perhaps we’d better go up and tuck them in, Sister?”
Setiva waved a dismissive paw. “Och no, we can do that later. Ah’ve got tae go an’ take supper tae Toran an’ Junty first.”
The haremaid pushed her chair away from the table. “I’ll come and help you. Poor old Toran, I’d forgotten about him. Never mind, there’s plenty of crumble left.”
Badredd halted his crew at the east wickergate. There was a small door set in the centre of the Abbey’s rear wall. He held up a paw for silence. Gently pressing his weight against the timbers, the small fox tried the circular iron ring handle. It was firmly locked shut.
Plumnose held up a little lantern close to the door. “Huh, id’s shudd, Chief!”
Badredd had difficulty controlling his voice. “Is it now! Thanks for lettin’ me know, bouldernose!”
Plumnose grinned. “T’ink nodding ob it.” He turned to Halfchop. “Duh likkel door’s locked, I t’ink.”
The rat wiped a ribbon of drool from his chin. “Kachunk!”
Badredd rounded on the pair, hissing viciously. “Shuttup, you two, an’ get back into the trees—go on! Flinky, are ye any good at openin’ locks?”
The stoat scratched his grimy cheek. “Ah, well, there’s locks an’ locks, if ye get my meanin’, yer ’onour!”
Badredd whipped out his cutlass and thrust it under Flinky’s nose. “I never asked ye for a lecture about locks! I said, are you any good at openin’ ’em—well, are ye?”
Flinky heaved a sigh and took the cutlass from his chief’s paw. “Sure an’ I don’t know until I try. Shall I give it an ould go?”
Badredd waved him to the door impatiently. “Well, put a move on, we haven’t got all night!”
Flinky wedged the swordblade between the door jamb and the wall. He slid the blade down until it clinked dully against something.
“Hah, there’s yore problem, Chief, ’tis a bolt. D’ye want me to try an’ chop through it?”
The fox exhaled irately. “Anythin’, just get on with it!”
Flinky requested the aid of Floggo and Rogg. “Come over t’this door, buckoes. Now put yore shoulders to it. Push now. That’ll widen the gap so I can get a grand swing at the bolt. Push, put those ould bows down an’ push!”
The door moved slightly under the pressure, creating a thin space. Flinky took the cutlass in both paws, raising it within the gap. Then he struck, whipping the blade down with all his might.
Piiing! As it struck the iron bolt, the blade snapped in half.
Badredd stared in silent horror at the stoat, who—still holding the handle and half a blade—was hopskipping in agony, both paws numbed by the reverberation of metal upon metal.
The vermin leader’s voice rose to a disbelieving squeak. “Me sword! Me luvly cutlass! Ye’ve ruined it! Idiot!”
Tears squeezed from the corners of Flinky’s eyes as he flung the half cutlass on the ground. “Aarh, it broke its stupid self. Yore s’posed t’be the chief, why didn’t you have a go?”
Badredd seized the broken weapon. “Have a go? I’ll have a go at you if ye ain’t careful, idiot! An’ you lot, a fine crew I’ve got, sittin’ round scratchin’ yerselves among the trees. Up on yer paws, doltheads, we’ll have to find someplace else where we can get in. Jump to it!”
As Badredd strode off in foul mood, Plumnose called to him. “Chief, me an’ Halfchob hab got de door oben!”
Badredd dashed back to where Plumnose and Halfchop stood in the small doorway. Finding the door still closed, he fumed at them. “Ye blither-brained, wobble-nosed, broken-snouted loafheads! Get goin’, afore I carve cobs off’n ye with what’s left o’ me sword!”
But then, as Plumnose pushed the wicker door gently, it swung inward. “Duh, hawhawhaw, oben!”
Halfchop walked through the open door and grinned. “Kachunk!”
Flinky inspected the wall alongside the door. “Well now, ain’t I the clever beast! I must’ve hit the bolt so hard that it broke through the ould soft sandstone it bolts into. See, there’s a chunk of it missin’. Oh, here’s the rest of yer grand cutlass, Chief.”
He presented the fox with the other half of the blade. Flinging it from him, Badredd turned on the crew and hissed, “You lot, keep yore mouths shut, not a sound out of ye. Foller me, don’t go cloghoppin’ all over the place. We’re goin’ to take a look around. Next move is t’get inside the big buildin’. Quietly now . . .”
After taking food out to the west walltop for Toran and Junty, Martha and Sister Setiva returned to the Abbey. Martha stayed in her chair below stairs whilst Setiva went up to the dormitory to check up on the Dibbuns. The shrewnurse was away only for a brief space of time when a dismayed cry reached Martha. Setiva came hurrying back downstairs carrying little Buffle, who was imprisoned in a pillowcase with only his head sticking out.