Clecky opened one eye. In the soft dawn light he found himself staring at a brightly hued beetle perched upon his nose. With a twitch and a puff of breath from the side of his mouth, he dislodged the insect, blinking disdainfully at it as it trundled off through the sand and grass.
"Cheeky-faced object, go an' perch on some otherbeast's hooter! No blinkin' respect, that's the trouble with beetles ... I say, do I smell brekkers? Jolly good show, you chaps!"
Plogg, Welko and Viola had been up and about since the crack of dawn. They had rekindled the fire and made a meal. Clecky sat up, waggling his ears in anticipation as Viola served him.
"Hot shrewcakes, honey, fruit salad and melon juice," she said. "We thought you deserved a break from cooking. Anyhow, you always cook too much so that you can have three helpings."
Grath was sitting between Martin and Inbar having breakfast. Suddenly she jumped up, looking left and right, reaching for her bow.
"Where's the searat? He must've escaped."
Welko allayed her fears quickly. "Ole Gowja's safe, marm, don't you fret. Me'n Plogg couldn't stand lookin' at 'is ugly mis'rable mug, so we took 'im down aboard the ship an' secured 'im all snug'n'tight with a fetter an' chain stapled to the mainmast, even gave 'im vittles too."
Martin smiled and winked at the shrew. "Well done, 'tis poetic justice really. I'll wager that was the same chain they used to keep the Abbot prisoner on the voyage."
After breakfast Martin called them all to a council of war. Drawing on the sandy ground with his swordpoint, he illustrated a plan he had formed.
"Right, here we are, and here's the palace which is under attack. Now, I'm certain Abbot Durral is somewhere in that building and it's our job to free him and get away from this island, so here's what I propose. If we're to get into the palace we must create a diversion so we're not overrun by lizards or whatever beasts are up there. Listen carefully, you all have a vital part to play in this scheme, and it's highly dangerous and we run a great risk of losing our lives. Anybeast who feels they cannot take part in my plan speak now, I'll understand."
Viola answered for them all.
“ We came here to free our Father Abbot and take him home to Redwall. If our enemies were ten times the number they are now we would never back down, never! Tell us your plan, Martin sir, everybeast here is with you to the death!"
Tropical morning sunlight beat down on the cove where Waveworm lay, east of Sampetra. Martin's great sword slashed paths and patterns in the earth as his crew sat listening to the daring idea unfold. Stirred by the excitement of it all, Plogg drew his short rapier, glaring resolutely towards the west coast of the island.
"Aye, 'tis perilous, that's sure. But if I live through this 'un, it'll make a great tale to tell around the fire on a winter's night to me grandshrews in the seasons t'come, matey!"
Chapter 49
Rollo emptied the contents of the little yew box out onto the seat of the angler's stool; Craklyn held the lantern close so they could see clearly in the darkened chamber. Dry and crisp, light as thistledown after its long sojourn in the box, the dried carcass of a bee lay on the stool.
Tansy stared at it, her voice shrill with disappointment. "A dead bee, is that all?"
The old Recorder peered into the box, blew into it and poked a claw about inside. "Well, there's nothing else in here, but I expected something like this. Tell me the end of the poem again, Craklyn."
The squirrelmaid thought for a moment then recalled the lines. "See if you can find the right hip, turn west and you're halfway there."
Picking up the dead bee, Rollo seated himself on the stool. "Halfway there! I knew it. Fermald the Ancient isn't giving up the last pearl so lightly to us. This pitiful dead thing is only half the clue. We've solved the first part by getting this far, and an old dead bee is the second part. When we've found what it means the last pearl will be ours."
Tansy almost danced with irritation. "But there's nothing with it, no parchment or poem, nothing except a silly old thing that was once a bee, though goodness knows how many seasons ago!"
As they walked back into Great Hall, Craklyn had an idea. "Maybe it's something beginning with the letter B?"
Rollo gazed around the moonshadowed hall and yawned. "How about bed, that begins with B. I'm tired."
Tansy took the dead insect from him. "Oh, that's brilliant, sir," she said, her voice echoing angrily. "Brilliant begins with B too, and breakfast and bath and badger and ... and ..."
Craklyn took hold of Tansy's paw gently. "And bad-tempered beast. Rollo's right, it's late and we're all tired. Come on, pal, time you were in bed. We'll see if we can sort this thing out tomorrow."
Shamefacedly, Tansy passed the dead bee back to Rollo. "I'm sorry, sir, it's not your fault we only found a bee. Forgive me!"
The old Recorder leaned heavily against her, chuckling. "I'm not bothered by bees, but ready to do battle with blankets, my friend. Carry me upstairs!"
Tansy shook him off playfully. "You're getting far too old to go upstairs, we'll have to get Furlo Stump to make you a little barrel bed down here!"
With surprising agility for one of his seasons, Rollo hitched up his robe and scampered off up the stairs, cackling, "Too old, am I? Well, last one up is a frazzled frog, heeheehee!"
Three hours after dawn the next morning, birdsong echoed from the Abbey's inner walls, white clouds flecked a cheery blue sky and the treetops of Mossflower Wood rippled in a light fragrant breeze. Tansy was still asleep in her bed when she was set upon and attacked by Dibbuns.
"Cummon, missie, waykee h'up, gurt pudden'ead, still asleepen, hurr!"
Struggling awake, she tried to fight back, but Arven buffeted her soundly with a pillow.
"Tansy pansy toogle doo! Sleep alia day an' y'get no brekfiss!"
Kicking off two molebabes who were tickling her footpaws, the hedgehog maid succeeded in capturing Arven and rolling him in a blanket. "Leave me alone, you little maggot, I was up very late last night and I need my sleep. Now go on, be off with you!"
Diggum waved her digging claws under Tansy's nose. "Hurr, ee must git out o' ee bed roight naow, or Froir 'iggle says ee give'n yurr brekfiss to ee gurt owlyburd, so thurr!"
Tansy leapt out, dashing water from a basin onto her face and wiping it with a towel. "No breakfast of mine is going to be scoffed by Gerul the Glutton! Out of my way, I need food!"
Chuckling and giggling uproariously, the Dibbuns pursued her downstairs to where Rollo and Craklyn sat, halfway through their morning meal. Craklyn indicated a seat. "Over here, Tansy, there's oatbread, raspberry preserve, strawberry cordial too, I know that's your favorite breakfast."
Tansy sat down between her friends, panting. "The Dibbuns said Friar Higgle was going to give my breakfast to Gerul, so I got down as fast as I could."
Arven vaulted onto the tabletop, pointing at Craklyn. "She tol' us t'say dat, Friar never said noffink!"
Craklyn ducked as Tansy's wooden spoon narrowly missed her. "Well, we had to get you out of bed somehow, or you'd have snored until supper!"
Tansy spread raspberry preserve on a warm oatcake. "Well, Rollo, any more news of our dead bee? It didn't get up and fly off during the night, did it?"
The bankvole polished his glasses on the tablecloth. "Very droll indeed, young maid. We were about to take it to one who might help us, Brother Dormal. Nobeast in Redwall has a knowledge of plants and insects like the good Brother."
Gulping down her drink and spreading another oatcake with preserve, Tansy quitted the table. "Good idea! Come on what're we waiting for?"
Dormal was out in the orchard with Gerul, explaining the finer points of a redcurrant hedge to the owl as the three friends walked up.