There was no reply, so Bartij tried. The big hedgehog had a naturally gruff voice: "The longer ye keep us waitin', the worse 'tis goin' t'be for ye, so git yoreself out 'ere, ye scallywag!"
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There was a sob in Globby's voice as he shouted back, "Come out, an' wot for? So ye can drag me down t'that cookin' place an' beat me wid one o' those long paddles. Lissen, youse, I gotta big knife 'ere, an' I'll gut the first un who comes in 'ere. So go 'way an' leave me alone. Go on, clear off!"
This time the Abbess tried, speaking in a soothing tone. "Globby--it is Globby, isn't it? I promise you won't get beaten. Come out. We just want to talk."
The young stoat's reply was scornful. "Lissen, I ain't comin' out fer you or nobeast..."
Brother Tollum whispered to Marjoram, "Keep him talkin'. I've got an idea."
He crept off along the passage, leaving the Abbess to continue reasoning with Globby.
"You'll have to come out sooner or later. Don't be silly, friend. Unlock the door--you've got my word that you won't be hurt."
Globby laughed bitterly. "Hah, so you say. But when we talk, if'n I don't give ye the answers yore after, then yell turn me over t'dat big riverdog wid the paddle, an' he'll belt the daylights out o' me tail. Yew lot must think I'm stoopid!"
Meanwhile Tollum had raced downstairs and grabbed a coil of rope. The tall, thin Bellringer was still in his middle seasons, sound in wind and limb. Carrying the rope, he made the speedy ascent back upstairs, passing the floor in question, and sprinting up to the floor above it. Counting the rooms, he entered the fourth one, then knotted one end of the rope over a crossbeam, paying it out of the window. Tollum did all this with silent efficiency, not wanting to give away the element of surprise.
With squirrellike agility, he vaulted through the window, holding the rope out with both paws. Kicking hard against the wall, he bounded out from the Abbey into space. Tollum swung hard at the open window, unable to see his quarry in the darkness.
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Globby had run to the door to hurl more insults at his tormentors. He heard the sudden whoosh of displaced air and turned, grasping the knife, thrusting it forward.
It was ill fortune for both creatures. The knife sank deep into the squirrel's midriff, but his outstretched footpaws, rigid with shock, smashed into Globby's narrow chest just below the throat. Fatally injured, both beasts slumped to the floor.
The pair outside the door heard the crash and the thud of bodies falling to the floorboards.
Abbess Marjoram pounded on the door. "What is it-- what's going on in there?"
"Step aside, Marm. We'll soon see!"
It was Skipper, returning from the woodlands. "Righto, Bartij, mate, both together ... one, two ..."
On the word three, they charged the door together. There was a splintering snap of the wooden bar which held the room locked, then the door burst open.
Skipper was at Brother Tollum's side instantly. The Abbey Bellringer was sitting with his back to the wall, staring at the knife plunged deep into him.
The otter cradled his head as he slumped to one side. "Tollum, can ye hear me, mate? It's Skipper!"
The normally saturnine squirrel smiled oddly. "Who's sounding the bells? I can hear my bells being tolled. They sound ... so beautiful...."
Abbess Marjoram knelt at Tollum's side, clasping his paw. "Hurry, Skip--run and get Sister Fumbril. Tell her to bring herbs, dressings, salve, anything!"
Prying the Abbess's grip loose, the brawny otter lifted Brother Tollum bodily. "Too late, marm. This goodbeast's gone."
Marjoram looked suddenly lost. She stared blankly at the Otter Chieftain. "Brother Tollum dead? It's not possible. I'll go and get Sister Fumbril myself!"
Bartij stopped her hurrying from the attic room. Taking Marjoram's face in both paws, the big hedgehog assured
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her softly, "Take Skipper's word, marm. Pore Tollum's already gone to the quiet meadows. Let's take a look at the other one. We need to get some information out of him, even if'n 'e is hurted."
Marjoram pulled herself together resolutely. "Yes, you're right. I'd best see what we can do for him. I need to talk with that one."
Globby was lying in a crumpled heap, footpaws twitching, forepaws clasped tight to his chest. The Abbess turned him over carefully, calling to Bartij, "Go and bring something for him to drink."
She lifted the young stoat's head. He coughed, a harsh, rattling noise from his blood-flecked lips.
Marjoram came right to the point. "Globby, what's happened to our two young ones, a squirrelbabe and a tiny mole? Where are they, d'you know? Have they been taken?"
Globby peered up at the Abbess; his eyes were drooping. His lips moved slightly, but no sound came out.
Something told Marjoram that the stoat's life was ebbing fast. She continued more urgently, "You must tell me--where have the little ones gone? Say something, Globby, speak!"
The Ravager stared at her. He shook his head weakly.
Martin's words flashed through Marjoram's mind. She leaned close to Globby, whispering desperately, "Corim, Althier--does that mean anything to you? Think! Corim ... Althier?"
The young stoat seemed to recover momentarily. He moved as if trying to sit up straight, his eyes wide as he pointed a shaking paw toward the open window. "Althier ... Althier ... Sable Quean!"
Then he gave one last bubbling sigh as the life fled from his broken body.
Accompanied by Bartij, Sister Fumbril hurried in. She took a flask from her satchel of medications, but Marjoram shook her head.
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"He's gone, just like Brother Tollum."
Fumbril nodded sadly. "I passed Skipper on the landing--he was carryin' Tollum downstairs. An awful thing, Mother Abbess, dreadful! I know 'tis not the time t'be askin' questions, but did the vermin give ye anythin' to go on about our missin' Dibbuns?"
Marjoram relinquished the limp form of Globby. "He never said anything about them. Then I asked him if he knew what Corim Althier meant."
Fumbril covered the young stoat with a blanket. "Oh, an' did he?"
The Abbess answered, "Well, he didn't seem to know anything about the word Corim, but it seemed he was trying to tell me something--he looked frightened, pointed to the outside through the window. Althier, Althier, Sable Quean!' That was all he managed to say. Then he slipped away before I could ask him anything more."
Sister Fumbril shouldered her bag. "More reason to speak with our Recorder. Let's go and find Granvy."
Vilaya the Sable Quean stared distastefully at the head of Grullba Deathwind fixed onto the pike point. She turned her attention to Kodra, the river rat who was bearing it.
"Who told you to bring that thing into my chambers?"
The big dull rat looked up at the head, as if expecting it to reply. He spoke haltingly. "Er, Lord Zwilt brought me 'ere, said to show Grullba ter yew. Er, 'e'll be 'ere soon."
A moment later, Zwilt the Shade appeared, dragging a laden sack behind him. Signalling to the sentries, he snapped curtly, "Give these to Thwip and Binta. Have them put with the others when they waken!"
Zwilt's manner changed completely as he turned to Vilaya. A rare triumphant smile lit up his sinister features. "Majesty, did I not say that I would bring you the head of Grullba Deathwind? Well, here it is, along with every beast he commanded--they are with our Ravagers, at the camp in the woodlands."
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The old rat Dirva wrinkled her nose in disgust, pointing to the pike bearer. "An' who is that big clod, eh?"
Zwilt directed his reply at Vilaya. "That's Kodra. He's going to be one of my captains."
The Sable Quean's glittering dark eyes turned to the big stolid river rat; her voice was like silk over ice. "Put that dirty thing down and come here, Captain Kodra."
Laying the pike and its grisly burden down, Kodra approached. He stood stiffly to attention in front of Vilaya. She exchanged a sly smile with Dirva, then beckoned Kodra closer. "Now, kneel and bow your head before me, then repeat these words: T will serve you until I die.' "