another reason also. That raven is no fool, and sooner or later he’ll be a bit quicker than us and he’ll catch
you. There’s too much risk involved, you’ll have to give it up.”
Cornflower became indignant. “But Father Abbot, when I get dressed up as the ghost I know it upsets
Ironbeak, and that’s why I must continue. It has also started to demoralize his rooks. They’re scared, and
the crow — wotsisname, Mangiz — he’s frightened of me too, I can tell. That crow is a very superstitious
bird and the others take notice of him. Let me do it just one more time tonight. Please!”
Mordalfus polished his glasses. “Cornflower, you’re a bigger mischief-maker than your son and a
fighter as brave as your husband. Make tonight the last time that you haunt our Abbey.”
Baby Rollo had dozed off, and Cornflower placed the sleeping infant in the Abbot’s lap.
“I will, thank you, Father Abbot. Sister May, come on, we have work to do if the ghost is to walk again
tonight. Come on, Constance, we need you for the voice of Martin.”
The Abbot stroked Rollo’s head. “And I’m left holding the baby, as usual!”
Ironbeak sat at the broken dormitory window and related his troubles to Mangiz.
“Warrior mouse ghosts, big red birds; what next, my seer? The earthcrawlers are down in that Cavern
place where we cannot get at them. I have conquered nearly all this great redstone house from the roof
down and I cannot let it slip away from me. If I were forced to leave here, we would have to go back to the
northlands. They are cold and hard, Mangiz, and it is all fight and no food. We are getting older and could
not face many more winters in the north. Tell me, Mangiz, have your visions come back? Are you seeing
anything in the eye of your mind again?”
“My General, you were right,” Mangiz said readily, glad that he was back in favor. “I see the ghost
mouse was only a trick of the earthcrawlers to frighten us from here. As for the great rustybird, kachah! It
was only the imagination of scared rooks. The heatwaves shimmer and dance in this country, and you
could see more strange things than on a dark night in the northlands.”
Ironbeak was heartened. “Well spoken, Mangiz, my strong right wing. What else do you see? Are the
omens good for your General?”
“The omens are good. It all becomes clear as water now. Ironbeak, you and I will live a good and easy
life in this redstone house, the food will be plenty and the seasons good, winter’s cold will not harm us in
this place surrounded by tall woodland. When the earthcrawlers get tired of playing their silly little games,
we will catch them all out in the open, and that day they will be slain. Then there will be none left to
oppose us. This I see truly, my General.”
Ironbeak stood and stretched his wings, and Mangiz ducked to avoid being knocked out of the
window.
“Kachakka! This is good, Mangiz. I feel good in my feathers too. I think I will fly up and perch awhile on
the roof of my big redstone house. Tell the rooks to rest well, and sleep yourself. You look tired and hot.”
Ironbeak launched himself from the sill and spiralled up to the Abbey roof.
Mangiz blew a great sigh of relief and settled down to nap in the hot sun. It was the first time he had
lied to Ironbeak about his visions. They were still clouded by the warrior mouse, but the crow was not
going to tell Ironbeak that. What the General did not know for the moment would not harm him, and
compliments were better received than kicks.
When night fell over Redwall and the Mossflower country, Cornflower began buckling on her armour.
However, Sister May had a better idea, so Cornflower unbuckled it and listened. Constance covered her
mouth and shook with suppressed laughter when the ruse was outlined to her.
“Oh yes, let’s do it. I wouldn’t miss this for a midsummer feast!”
The rooks perched in the dormitory, half dozing, half awake, none fully asleep since the General had issued
the order for them to have the rest of the day off. Most of them had slept all afternoon, and they found it
difficult trying to sleep in the night also. It was hot and airless for birds who had lived their lives in the
cold northlands. A full moon beamed down through the dormitory window, bathing the entire room in
pale bluish white light.
“Leeeeave ooooour Abbeeeeeeeeey!”
“Yaak! What was that?
“Death is neeeeear!”
The rooks froze on their perches.
“Death waits outside this rooooooom!”
A black shadow cast itself across the beds and the floor. There was something at the window.
The rook Ragwing turned his head slowly and fearfully until he could see the window.
Framed by the broken pane, with cold moonlight surrounding it, was the head of the Warrior, the
helmet with no face; pale grey mist hovered in place of the Warrior’s features. Ragwing and his companions
were in a state of panic bordering on hysteria, and the words of the bodiless phantom were like some dread
puzzle: “Leave our Abbey. ” How could they leave the Abbey, knowing that the ghost had said “Death waits
outside this room”? There was only the window, and the horrible head was floating about there. Even the
bravest rook would not venture out that way. It was more than the terrified birds could stand, so they
scrabbled underneath the beds, afraid to look or move.
As they stole back to Cavern Hole, Constance shook the window pole that had supported the ghostly head
at Sister May.
“One more giggle out of you, Sister, and I’ll have you put on cooking duties with Ambrose Spike!” she
said menacingly.
Cornflower held a kerchief to her face, pretending to blow her nose. She was, in fact, biting the material
to stop herself roaring with laughter.
Constance waited until they were out of earshot in the tunnel, then she laughed.
“Heeheehee! I took a quick peek through the window, and the rooks were underneath the beds trying
to make themselves invisible.”
Sister May shook her head in mock sympathy. “It’s no wonder. You didn’t give them much choice:
leave the Abbey, but don’t leave the room. Really, Constance, what made you think that one up?”
“I don’t know. I suppose I just lost my head. Hahaha!”
Cornflower wiped tears from her eyes, realising that the fun had turned to sorrow and longing for her
family.
“My Matthias and Mattimeo would have appreciated a joke like that. Dear me, I can’t get them out of
my mind night or day. Oh Matthias will be able to take care of himself, no matter where he is, but what
about my little Mattimeo, I wonder what he’s doing right now, I hope he’s safe and well fed. I’m sorry my
friends, I’m an old wet rag these days, moping about like I don’t know what.”
Sister May began weeping herself. “There there, we understand, don’t you worry, your young one will
be all right.”
Constance sniffed loudly.
“Of course he will.”
Chapter 48
A silence had fallen upon the ledge. Friend and foe alike were hushed as Matthias and the Wearet circled
about. The warrior mouse, straight backed, moved lightly on his paws, the great sword of Martin held
double-pawed against his right cheek. The Wearet crouched low, spear held pointing at his opponent, the
loaded net making swift dragging noises as he cast it in small circles continuously. The eyes of the two
fighters were locked as each tried to read the other’s thoughts, hoping one false move of a paw would give