Cregga and the elders waited until Boorab was well out of earshot before the Badgermum nodded to Mhera.
"Well done, friend, that was very diplomatic of you. So, then, what's your next move to be?"
Mhera felt rather flustered. "I'm sorry, Cregga, I didn't mean to interrupt an elders' meeting. I only came to see if I could be of any help."
Cregga turned her sightless eyes toward Brother Hoben. "Well, I for one think Mhera's been an enormous help. Already she's got rid of that babbling hare and taken care of the Abbey defenses at the same time. What d'you think, Brother?"
Koben watched the other elders' faces carefully as he replied, "I couldn't agree with you more, marm. Quick-thinking heads and sensible decisions are what's needed among us old fogies, a drop of young blood to liven things up. I suggest we allow our Mhera to take charge of things. I've a feeling she won't let us down. Let's put it to the vote!"
There was an immediate chorus of ayes, but Cregga's sharp ears missed nothing. "Sister Alkanet, why do you choose to stay silent?"
The stern Sister made her way slowly to the door. "I won't say yes or no to Mhera's taking charge. However, I must be honest. I think she's far too young. It's too much responsibility, and I think you'll live to regret your decision." And Alkanet swept off up the stairs to her infirmary.
Foremole Brull twiddled her digging claws and fixed her eyes on the table in front of her. "She'm a gurtly h'odd mouse, that 'un, but she'm atitled to urr umpinnyin'. Hurr, 'tain't moine, tho'. Oi loikes miz Mhura!"
Filorn smiled across at the kind Foremole. "Thanks for your confidence in my daughter. Well, Mhera, you'd best answer Cregga. What's our next move?"
The elders' hopeful faces dispelled any nervousness Mhera felt. "At the moment there's not a great deal we can do. If needs be, Fwirl can easily scout the woodlands close to our Abbey. As for the rest, we've got to keep an eye on the Dibbuns, see none of them try straying outside. You all know by now that even a locked gate or high walls won't stop some of those little rogues. The only thing we can do is to sit tight and hope the tattooed vermin will move off sooner or later. Our walls are patrolled, and we can sleep safely knowing Mr. Boorab is commanding the guard."
This last remark was greeted by chuckles from the elders. Friar Bobb heaved himself upright, straightening his apron. "Villains or no villains, I've got cabbage an' fennel bake to make, aye, and raspberry cream turnovers. Redwallers don't quit having supper because there's vermin in the woodlands, oh no!" The meeting broke up amid creatures going off to their chores.
Mhera was helping Cregga from her chair when the Badgermum began rummaging in her belt pouch.
"Oh, I almost forgot in all the excitement. I found one of your pieces of lilac-smelling cloth. I assume it's the same color as the others. It was lying among the fresh torches we put by the east wallgate when we were searching last night." She passed the ottermaid a scrap of the green homespun.
Mhera inspected the cloth. It was exactly the same as the others: rough faded green homespun, with a faint odor of lilacs. Inscribed on it in the same vertical capitals was the word WITTAGALL.
Cregga twitched her muzzle impatiently. "Well, is it one of those pieces of cloth? Does it have any message on it? Tell me, Mhera."
"What? Oh, er, sorry, Cregga. It says WITTAGALL, whatever that's supposed to mean. I wonder who left it there?"
Cregga leaned on Mhera's shoulder as they mounted the stairs. "How should I know? I'm an old blind badger, not a magician or a mystery solver. It's not important how it got there, it's the word and what it means. WITTAGALL. What d'you think it is?"
Mhera stopped, allowing Cregga to rest her paws. "You're asking me? I'm only a simple ottermaid, not a wise old Badgermum who's lived more seasons than anybeast I know and can tell just by a sound who it is and what they're doing."
Cregga tweaked the ottermaid's cheek. "You, my pretty maid, are an old head on young shoulders!"
Chapter 24
Across from the path in front of Redwall's main gate, which faced west, was a partially dried up ditch separating the path from the sprawling flatlands. Twilight's last vestiges were gleaming as Eefera stood in the ditch, looking up at the solid red sandstone heights of the Abbey's outer wall.
"Supposin' the Taggerung ain't in there, what then?"
Vallug rubbed beeswax along his bowstring to keep it supple. "Huh, 'e's in there all right, I kin feel it in me bones."
Eefera took out his long curved knife and began digging at some wild ramsons that were poking through the ditch side. "Hmm. Ain't much chance of us findin' out if the Taggerung's in there or not. It's all 'igh walls, locked doors an' guards walkin' 'round betwixt the battlements. We got no chance o' gettin' in there to seek 'im out." He began crunching the garlicky-smelling plant. Vallug turned away in disgust from the weasel's breath.
"Yurk! D'you 'ave to eat that stuff? I'll tell ye a good way fer us to get in. You climb up that wall an' breathe all over 'em, that'll knock the guards out so you kin open the door fer me."
Eefera wiped soil from another clump of ramsons and bit into it. "Very funny. Yore jokes'll be the death of you one day, I 'ope. But the way I sees it, we don't 'ave to try an' get inter that place, if'n we can make the Taggerung come out to us."
Vallug gagged as he turned and caught another whiff of ramsons. "Go on then, stinkmouth, tell me 'ow we do that. Why should the Taggerung come out if'n 'e knows we want t'kill 'im, eh?"
Eefera picked his teeth with a filthy pawnail. "Simple. Yore the great Bowbeast, aren't yer? All's you gotta do is kill one o' those guards up yonder, just as a sort o' message. Pretty soon they'll want t'know wot we want, so we, I mean you, kill another one. I'll tell 'em we'll slay every Redwaller we see until they gives us the Taggerung. I think that's a pretty good idea, don't you?"
Vallug eyed the figures patrolling the walltop. "Oh, it's a marvelous idea, unless I kills one an' they all comes chargin' out an' chops us ter fish scraps!"
Eefera spat out a soily bit of vegetation. "Yore plan is better, then? Go on, tell it t'me."
Vallug knew he had lost the argument, so he blustered. "D'ye remember wot Sawney said? 'E didn't want ter tangle with the warriors in there. Sawney Rath was a wise Chief."
Eefera laughed scornfully. "Aye, was! But now Sawney's a dead Chief, an' it wasn't no Redwall warriors did it, 'twas 'is own pet otter. So are yer goin' along with my idea, or are ye scared?"
Vallug pushed his face nose to nose with Eefera, despite the smell. "I ain't scared of yew an' I ain't scared of those up there, an' if yer don't believe me then watch this!"
Fitting a shaft to his bowstring, Vallug drew it back, judging the breeze and the height. He fired and hit one of the guards standing left of the threshold above the main gate. Vallug watched the Redwaller crumple below the battlements and sneered. "Now tell me I'm scared. Vallug
Bowbeast ain't afraid of anybeast 'is arrows can slay. That goes fer them an' you too. Hoi! Come back 'ere. Where are yer goin'?"
Eefera turned a pitying smile upon the ferret. “Im gettin' out of the way, back inter the woods. Theyll prob'ly 'ave archers, spearbeasts an' slingers to fire back at us. But don't lissen t'me. You stay there an' chat to yerself all night. I'm off!"
Vallug crouched and followed Eefera at a run, north along the muddy streambed, to where they could make the trees in safety.
Broggle saw the arrow strike, and dashed toward the fallen Redwaller, roaring out in anguish, "It's old Hoarg' They've killed Hoarg the Gatekeeper!"
Boorab was on the spot immediately, calling out orders. "Stay at your posts, keep those heads down, I'll see to this!"