Basil clapped his paws together. “Absolutely top-hole, Cheek old lad. Top marks for ingenuity.
Matthias, I think we need a brainy feller like this if we’re to get anywhere. What d’you say?”
The warrior mouse picked up his sword. “Aye, top marks for sheer cheek. Well, come on then, sir,
seeing as you’ve no mum or dad, but behave yourself.”
The sky had ceased its weeping over Mossflower. Grey clouds started rolling back to reveal a powder-blue
vault above, and warmth began seeping through to dry the woodlands as the sun continued its journey into
summer. White feathery steam rose in banks off trees, grass, flowers and shrubs as the four companions
stepped out on the track the two weasels had taken.
Toward evening, Mrs. Churchmouse led the members of the original search party back through the main
gates of Redwall Abbey. She made her report to Constance and the Abbot, showing them the empty food
bag they had found on the road.
“We travelled north until midday, then we turned back for Matthias, Basil and Jess, wondering what
had become of them. When we reached the spot we had rested at in the morning we found this.”
Abbot Mordalfus turned the bag over and read the wording that had been written in charcoal. “East
thro’ woods, signs of cart. B. S. Hare.”
Constance inspected the bag. “Good, they’ve found tracks. If ever there were three who could follow a
trail, fight an enemy and bring the young ones back, it’s Matthias, Basil and Jess.”
Mrs. Churchmouse’s lip quivered. “Oh, I do wish I could have gone with them, just to see my Tim and
Tess again.”
Constance patted her paw. “There, there. Don’t upset yourself. We all would have liked to have gone
with them, though you had more right than most. Those three won’t rest until the young ones are safe,
you’ll see. Why, one day pretty soon now I wouldn’t be at all surprised to hear banging on the gate and
find Matthias, Basil and Jess standing there with the young ones looking hungry as hawks and ready for
supper. Why don’t you go and see how baby Rollo is? He’s been asking after you, and Cornflower will
have a nice bowl of mint tea waiting for you. Look in on Mr. Churchmouse too. You’ll find he’s a lot
better.”
Mrs. Churchmouse sniffled a bit, then smiled. “Thank you, Constance, you are so kind and thoughtful.
My my, just look at all the mud and wet on these clothes. I’d better go and put some nice clean dry ones
on.”
When Mrs. Churchmouse had departed, Constance turned to the Abbot.
“Gone east, eh,” she mused. “Seems funny, taking the north road and then turning east. Why didn’t
they just leave through the east gate and go direct through Mossflower? It would have got them to where
they were going a lot quicker if they really were travelling east.”
The Abbot sat forward in his chair. “Exactly! If they really were travelling east. I don’t like it, Constance.
Foxes were ever the sly ones. Who can tell what goes on in the mind of a thief and a trickster. I am not at
all happy about this whole affair, though I’ve no doubt that Matthias, Basil and Jess will sort it out and win
through eventually. But suppose they are following a false trail?”
“What could we do about it?” The big badger shrugged. “We are in Redwall, they are out there,
somewhere. Goodness knows where; Mossflower is a big country.”
The Abbot touched a paw to the side of his head. “They are the doers, we are the thinkers. Do not
forget, this Abbey was built by doers, but it took thinkers to conceive the plans.”
“I agree, Father Abbot, but how do we go about helping them by thinking?”
The Abbot rose from his chair and picked up a lantern. “Sleep, my old friend. Dreams are a good
starting place. Dream and think, of Redwall, of Matthias and our friends, of the young ones taken captive
and of the evil ones who hold them in bondage. Come and see me in the morning. We will breakfast
together and tell each other what we dreamed and thought.”
Constance smiled. The old Abbot made it all sound so simple, but the best answers were the simplest,
when all was said and done.
The evening sun sank slowly in the west as the bells tolled out over Redwall, heralding the calm after
the storm.
Chapter 15
With the passing of the rains, hot sunlight lanced through the upper foliage, and white steam tendrils
curled and wraithed, climbing between the golden sunshafts to escape on the warm thermals. Mattimeo
grunted with exertion as he pulled his paws from a morass of earth and leaves which the dragging limbs of
the column were laboriously pounding into thick mud. Chained paws, warm soggy habits and the driving
canes of the slavers gave little relief to the caravan of young animals. The running chain snagged between
branches, got caught around bushes and tripped them when they least expected it. Sam caught a quick
drink of water trickling from the broad steins of wild rhubarb, and he managed to grab a pawful of
cloudberries as he passed, signalling to the others where they grew so they could follow his example. Auma
munched the pitiful repast as she conversed with Tim in low tones.
“I’ve lost all sense of direction. All I know now is whether it’s night or day,” she remarked.
Tim trudged stolidly on. “We’re travelling south. Where to, I don’t know. I’ve been watching the signs
my parents taught me to look for if ever I got lost in the woodlands; moss on trees, the position of the sun,
even the earth down this way is different, more stones in the soil. You can take my word for it, Auma.
South it is.”
Mattimeo joined in the conversation. “I know we’re tired and worn out, but pass the word along. Keep
alert for the chance to escape. Slagar and his band must be as weary as we are.”
Tim shrugged. “How are we supposed to escape, chained together like this?”
Cynthia Bankvole listened to them talking and began to get very upset. “Please, don’t escape and leave
me here, I couldn’t bear it.”
Mattimeo ground his teeth together. “Don’t worry, Cynthia. If we escape we’ll take you with us.”
“Oh, no, leave me here,” Cynthia begged. “Slagar would catch me and beat me and break my legs and
leave me to die in a ditch. I’d be too afraid to escape.”
Mattimeo was about to ask Cynthia just what it was she really wanted, when he checked himself.
“Hush now, Cynthia,” Tess soothed her. “Don’t you fret, we won’t make you do anything you don’t
wish to do. Listen, there’s probably a whole army from Redwall out searching for us. Who knows, they
might not be far behind us.”
Auma became excited. “Of course! Mattimeo’s father is a great warrior. I’ll bet he’s gathered all his
fighting friends together and is hot on our trail. I know my father will be searching, though he’s a plains
badger and I’m not too sure whether he knows his way about in woodland.”
Mattimeo shook his head reprovingly at Tess. “Who’s being unkind now, eh, Tess? Don’t you realize
we’ve had a couple of days’ heavy rain? Not even Basil Stag Hare could follow our trail through that, and
we’re well clear of the Redwall area now. Another thing, I’d like to bet that Slagar has laid some sort of
false track to put them off the scent. You’re only raising vain hopes by talking of things like that.”
“Well, any hope’s better than none!” Tess sniffed.
A stoat called Badrag strode past them, waving his cane.
“Come on, come on, less gabbin’ and more marchin’, you lot. The faster you march the quicker you’ll