to save a pancake or two for me. Basil certainly taught him how to deal with the rations, the little nosebag.”
He wiped his grimy paws on his habit and blinked owlishly. “ ’s funny, I could swear I saw a magpie above
the west wall just then, did you see anything, Sedge?”
Brother Sedge stifled a yawn. “Oh come on, John, let’s get breakfast. You’re seeing things. There hasn’t
been a magpie ever recorded in this neck of the woods.”
The morning wore on with the gentle pace of Redwall life. Three magpies winged their way low and
slow to the maple at the north fringe.
That same morning saw Matthias and his friends marching shoulder to shoulder with Log-a-Log and the
shrew army, south through the trees, upon the trail of Slagar. Orlando stopped in a clearing and pointed
ahead with his axe.
“Is that a cloudbank on the horizon, or some sort of landrise?”
They halted and gazed in the direction he was pointing.
Matthias shook his head. “Could be anything. What d’you think, Log-a-Log?”
The shrew leader shaded his eyes. “That must be the Great South Cliffs. I’ve heard of them, but the
Guosim have never wandered that far south before. Well, let’s press on and see for ourselves. I reckon we
should make them by late evening if we march at the double.”
A short meal break was taken for shrew oatcakes and water. Keeping the cliffs ahead as a bearing, the
searchers set out at a fast double pawstep.
Slagar had split his band in two, half in front and half behind the slave line as they began the ascent of the
rope ladders hanging down from the top of the plateau. The masked fox snapped out instructions.
“Listen you lot, keep your paws tight on those rungs. Don’t look up or down. It’s a good drop, even
from halfway up these ladders. You wouldn’t live through it, so if you want to reach the top in one piece
then keep your wits about you. Threeclaws, you go first to show ’em. When you reach the top make sure
the prisoners are well staked down until I get there. Stonefleck’s waiting up there. Do as he says. Right, get
going!”
Mattimeo climbed stolidly, trying hard to keep some slack in the running line to make it easier for Tess and
Cynthia, who were on the rungs below him. Auma climbed steadily. She was above Mattimeo. Young Jube
would slip now and then, accidentally kicking the badger on her head, but she toiled upwards without
complaint. Tim was above Jube and Sam was the top climber, being the more experienced. He chanced a
look below when they were over halfway up. The drop was dizzying, even for a squirrel. The other slaves
were way below, treading nervously on each separate rung as they were chivvied along by the slavers.
“Come on, dozypaws, or you’ll feel my cane.”
“Up, you stupid creature, don’t look down.”
“Hey you, get a move on up there.”
“Ow! You great lump, you’re treading on my paws.”
It was midafternoon by the time they reached the giddy heights on top of the cliffs. At first no creature
noticed the big rat who sat watching them from a rocky outcrop. It was only when he moved towards them
that they could distinguish him. Stonefleck was grey and dirty white with black markings. He could lie still
anywhere and be taken for a rock, a ground shadow or part of the scenery. He was large for a rat and not
given overmuch to talking, and he carried a heavy bow and a well-laden quiver of arrows. Threeclaws was
taken aback. Stonefleck seemed to materialize out of the rocks.
“Where’s the masked one?” The rat’s voice was flat and toneless.
“He’ll be here soon. Are you Stonefleck?”
The rat did not reply. He seated himself at the cliffs edge and awaited the arrival of Slagar, looking for
all the world like a boulder perched on the brink of the plateau.
The slave lines were staked to the ground by pegs. Mattimeo and the other captives sat regaining their
breath after the long climb, which had been made doubly difficult because of manacles and running line.
The slavers surrounded them, panting hard from their exertions. Over the cliff edge, Mossflower sprawled
away into the sunlit distances. Tess stared out hopefully. Somewhere out there was their beloved Redwall
Abbey, though it was too far away to see. The little churchmouse comforted herself with the thought that
her mother and father, if they were alive, would probably be going in to afternoon tea in Cavern Hole. She
brushed a tear of homesickness from her eye and sniffed.
Slagar was last up. He nodded to Stonefleck.
“Is this all you brought?” the rat asked, indicating the captives.
The silk mask pulled in and out against the Cruel One’s face as he breathed heavily. “It’s enough, rat.
They’re all young, strong and healthy. If you wanted more, you should have tried climbing down from
here and catching them yourself. I’ll speak to you later. First I’ve got business to attend to. Wedgeback, get
yourself over here!”
“Who, me?” The stoat pulled a paw at himself.
“Who d’you think, numb brain, the weasel behind you? Come here.” Slagar’s voice was tight and
dangerous.
Nervously Wedgeback looked round at his companions. They seemed to be intent on minding their
own business; nobeast wanted to see what was about to happen. Falteringly the stoat made his way over to
the cliff edge where Slagar stood waiting. The masked fox seized a pawful of Wedgeback’s soft belly.
Digging his claws painfully deep, he pulled the frightened stoat forward until he was breathing down the
terrified creature’s nostrils. A slight breeze rippled the silken hood mask. Slagar had never looked more
scary. The stoat gulped aloud, his face a fraction from the slitted eyes. Slagar was actually smiling.
“Wedgeback, old friend, let me tell you something. When I leave you in charge of the prisoners, it
means that you have to guard them carefully and let none escape.”
“B-but S-Slagar, I …”
“Hush, ssshhh!” The Cruel One’s voice was deceptively soothing. “Don’t interrupt, it’s bad manners.
You’ve got a lot to learn, Wedgeback. Pity you won’t have time, though. Where was I? Oh, yes. You know
the trouble we went through to get those creatures from Redwall Abbey, yet the moment my back was
turned you let them escape, didn’t you?”
The stoat was almost incoherent with tear. Slagar’s claws were piercing his belly and he felt totally
helpless. “I didn’t know they were g-goin’ to ’scape, honest.”
Slagar began slowly turning Wedgeback so that the stoat had his back to the cliff edge. He was teetering
on the brink.
“But they did escape. No thanks to you, I caught them again. There’s no room in my band for
blunderers, Wedgeback. You’ll have to go.”
Wedgeback’s eyes rolled wildly. “I’ll go, Slagar. I promise I’ll never come back again. Please don’t hurt
me, just let me go.”
“As you wish, my friend. Goodbye!”
Slagar let go of the stoat, at the same time giving him a slight push. The luckless Wedgeback vanished
over the edge of the heights with a scream of despair.
Dumbstruck at the horror of the callous killing he had just witnessed, Mattimeo shuddered. Turning his
head aside, he clasped Tess and Cynthia, who buried their faces in his robe.
Slagar peered over the cliff edge at the broken carcass on the rocks below. Stonefleck joined him, his face
still impassive as he pointed to a small group making their way through the foothills.
“Look, fox, shrews. Do you know them?”
Slagar peered hard at the group. They were just arriving at the rope ladders. Momentarily they recoiled