He released Diggs, who, at a sharp nudge from Buckler, sat down sedately on the grass and passed a beaker of dandelion and burdock cordial to Trajidia. That done, he fell like a famine-stricken wolf on the food.
Buckler introduced them both to the Abbess. "Pie's Subaltern Digglethwaite, an' I'm Blademaster Buckler Kordyne, from Salamandastron, marm. Call us Diggs'n'Buck, everybeast does."
The Abbess smiled fondly. "Ah, Salamandastron! Tell me, Buck, how is my old friend Lord Brang?"
Buckler loosed his long blade, setting it beside him. "Lord Brang is as mighty as he ever was, marm. He sends his compliments an' good wishes to ye. Oh, an' a pair of new bellropes woven by his own paws. He said they are to replace the old uns. Diggs, pass me that rope."
Diggs was too far gone sampling the delights of mushroom, spring onion and gravy pasties. So his companion had to retrieve the rope from him.
Marjoram ran her paws slowly across both ropes. She produced a kerchief and wiped her eyes. "Poor Brother Tollum would have appreciated these fine gifts. I'll tell you more about that later. Big Bartij, our Gardener and Infirmary aide, has taken over as Bellringer to the Abbey now. Bartij, what d'you think of Lord Brang's present to us--look!"
The sturdy hog inspected the ropes admiringly. "What a pair o' beauties, Mother! Just look it the weave o' these
127
ropes, all gold'n'green, too. With fine carved elmwood handles on 'em. Hoho, these'll make ole Methuselah an' Matthias sound out o'er our Abbey like honeyed thunder. I'll fix 'em up right after brekkist. Thank ye, Buck, thank ye kindly!"
Several Dibbuns had gathered around to watch the gluttonous Diggs foddering up. They gazed wide-eyed at the tubby hare, who winked roguishly at them.
A tiny molemaid threw her frilly apron over her face. "Boi 'okey, whurr bee's ee a putten et all?"
Diggs relinquished a hefty fruitcake for a brief moment. "Hollow legs, little beauty--least that's what our regimental cooks says I've bloomin' well got."
Jango's wife, Furm, looked up from her mint tea. "Aye, an' hollow stummick, tail, ears an' head. Invite an 'are-beast t'dinner an' ye'll regret it all yore days. That's wot my ole ma used t'say."
Sister Fumbril was feeding Dubdub his second bowl of arrowroot cream pudding. She grinned. "Land sakes--it looks like this liddle rascal's about t'catch Mister Diggs up, ain't ye, young master?"
The hogbabe echoed her dutifully, "Younger masta!"
The morning was almost half gone when the guests sat back, replete and sighing. Even Diggs was heard to remark, "Hope they hold off with the bally lunch for a while, wot!"
Abbess Marjoram called for their attention. "Now, let's address our problems. Oakie, who have you lost from your family?"
Oakheart sighed. "Two, alas--our lovely little twins, Jiddle an' Jinty, scarce four seasons old. There's another, too, a young shrewmaid, calls herself Flib."
Log a Log Jango made his report. "We lost three, if'n ye count the one Oakie just mentioned. She's a daughter o' mine, y'see."
Furm, the mother of all three shrews, sobbed, "Petunia Rosebud, the one who calls 'erself Flib, is the eldest
128
o' the three. She's always wanderin' off an' gettin' into scrapes. Flib can take care of 'erself, but the other two, Midda an' Borti, ain't never gone off afore. My Midda's very young, but she always looks after Borti, pore liddle mite--'e's only a babe. Oh, I 'ope my Borti ain't come to any 'arm!"
Furm broke down weeping; Jango could only stand awkwardly by. Guosim Log a Logs are not supposed to cry, though he did wipe a paw roughly across his eyes.
"Now, now, me ole darlin', don't worry, we'll find 'em sooner or later. You say you lost young uns, marm?"
Marjoram placed a comforting paw around Furm. "A little squirrelmaid called Tassy and a molebabe, Guffy. They've been gone half a day and a night now."
Buckler commented, "Hmm, seven young uns in all just vanished into thin air. There's got to be an explanation. Mother Abbess. Has anything unusual happened round Redwall lately? Have ye spotted any strangebeasts lurkin' about?"
Skipper spoke. "Aye, we caught a vermin, a young stoat, early yesterday. Sittin' as pretty as ye please, stuffin' 'im-self with vittles in Friar Soogum's kitchens."
The good Friar piped up, "Huh, typical vermin, made a right old mess--food scattered everywhere. Skipper caught the villain, though. Gave 'im a right ole pastin' with an oven paddle an' made him clean it all up!"
Diggs heaved himself upright, stifling a belch. "Just as the blighter deserved, wot. Do ye still have the rogue? Me'n Buck should have a word with the blighter."
Marjoram explained, "Alas, no. The Dibbuns went missing, so we all went off to search for them. The stoat escaped and hid himself up in the attics. He was seen, and we went up there to get him. That was when the tragedy occurred. Poor Brother Tollum and the wretched stoat were killed in the attempt to recapture him."
Buckler paced up and down, deliberating. "The vermin
129
must've had an accomplice outside the walls. Whoever it was is the one who took your babes!"
Foremole Darbee nodded his velvety head sagely. "Hurr, wee'm figgered that owt already, zurr. But wot do us'ns doos abowt et?"
Abbess Marjoram interrupted. "May I say something? Coming from Salamandastron, no doubt you've heard of our Abbey founder, Martin the Warrior. Now, I know this is hard for you to grasp, Buck, but Martin spoke to me in a dream."
The young hare shrugged. "Nothing new, Mother Abbess. Our Badger Lords have been known to have many visions that can't be explained. What did Martin say?"
Marjoram repeated the words carefully. "Corim Althier--just those two words. I don't know what they mean. However, just before the stoat died, I repeated the words to him. He didn't seem at all familiar with the first word, Corim. But when I mentioned Althier, he looked very frightened. Globby--that was the stoat's name--sat up and pointed to the open attic window. Then he said, 'Althier ... Sable Quean!' That was all. He went limp and died. So that's what we know. Corim, Althier, Sable Quean. What d'you make of it, Buck?"
Buckler stopped pacing. He remained silent awhile, thinking hard. Then he gave his verdict. "Well, I don't know what either Corim or Althier means. You say the vermin looked frightened when you said Althier, then he said Sable Quean. To my mind, Sable Quean must be the title for some vermin ruler. So it follows that she has others in her service. Many others, that's why she's a Quean. The young ones were stolen from three different areas. So for some reason unknown to us, she's stealing small woodlanders. Hedgehogs, shrews, a mole and a squirrelmaid. Right?"
A sudden thought occurred to Diggs. "Right you are, old scout. D'ye recall when we first met young Flib she
130
was being attacked by those two vermin bullies? They had a rope round her--the cads were tryin' to jolly well haul her off!"
Buckler picked up his sword. "So they were. You see? That proves there's a whole band of vermin roamin' the countryside, taking young prisoners!"
Granvy the Recorder scratched his chin. "So what can we do, except lock our gates, an' keep close watch on our Dibbuns?"
Skipper thumped his rudder down with such force that he startled the old scribe. "Well, we couldn't do much afore now, but we've got an army o' Guosim an' two warrior hares alongside us. We'll form a band o' fightin' searchers!"
Buckler was in total agreement with the Otter Chieftain. "Aye, that's the right move. We'll leave Redwall during the night, in secret. Then we'll hunt through Mossflower woodlands until we meet up with some o' these vermin. We'll ambush the scum and take some prisoners of our own. I'm sure if we ask 'em nicely, they'll tell us all about Althier and this Sable Quean!"
Diggs fondled his loaded sling lovingly. "Oh, I'll ask the blinkin' bounders nicely, you can jolly well rely on that!"
Oakheart Witherspyk declared stoutly, "Well said, sirrah. Me an' my gallant troupe are with ye!"