Malbun suddenly became interested in the teacakecrumbs on her plate.
She hesitated. Er, we got lost. Took the wrong path in the, er, dark.
Skipper dropped his question in casually. Wot were the two of ye runnin’
away from, marm?
Malbun looked surprised. Running? What makes you think we were running?
There was nothing chasing us, we never ran.
Seeing she had finished her snack, the Abbot removed the tray. Our Guosim trackers said that your trail looked as if you were dashing through the woodlands in a panic.
Detesting the lies she was telling to her friends, Malbun carried on unhappily. When creatures are lost in darkened woodlands, they crash and stumble about a bit, through bushes, across streams.... 1 assure you, we weren’t running or being chased.
Apodemus held his friend’s paw, staring into her eyes. Are you sure there’s nothing more you want to tell us?
Malbun pulled her paw free and lay back, closing her eyes. 1 can’t tell you anything more. I’m tired and injured, I need to have a sleep. Please leave me alone.
Apodemus signalled to Skipper and Log a Log that they should leave.
He parted Malbun’s footpaw. Of course you need to rest. Forgive us for intruding.
As Skipper opened the door, Malbun called out, Thank you for rescuing us from those vermin. Don’t know what we’d have done if you hadn’t arrived in time.
Log a Log bowed gallantly. Think nought of it, marm. You take a nice liddle rest now.
The door closed. Malbun opened her eyes and rubbed her aching head miserably, still fighting to rid her mind of the sickly-sweet odour of death and grass rustling in the night.
Halfway down the stairs, the Abbot turned to his companions. He looked mystified. Well, what d’you make of that? Malbun was telling lies, I’m certain of it. That’s not at all like her.
ã
Skipper sat down on the worn sandstone steps. I’m glad you said that instead o’ me, Father Abbot, It grieves me t’think of any Redwaller bein’ a liar. Especially that nice ole mouse!
Log a Log scratched his whiskers thoughtfully. She must’ve had a reason.
Hmm, I wonder wot ole Crikulus would say if’n we asked ‘im?
Apodemus folded both paws up his wide sleeves. Now, that’s a thought!
Leave this to me, friends. Let me go and have a word with our Gatekeeper, on my own.
With an appetite that belied his long seasons and frail appearance, Crikulus ravenously tucked into everything within paw range. He stuffed himself with toasted tea-cakes, slices of heavy fruitcake, cucumber sandwiches, a cheese-and-celery pasty, and a large tankard of October Ale, after which he retired to his beloved gatehouse and slumped in the big armchair with his footpaws resting on a dusty old hassock. Almost immediately he fell into a deep slumber.
Apodemus lifted the latch carefully and crept in, closing the door quietly behind him. Seating himself on the wide chair arm, the Father Abbot whispered into the ancient shrew’s ear, Ah well, we’re safe back in your gatehouse now, old fellow.
Crikulus moved his lips. Mmm, mmm, aye, safe ... safe ... Redwall...
mmm ... Who’s that?
He stirred, and the Abbot stroked his paw, relaxing him. Ssshhh, ‘tis only Malbun. My my, we were lucky out there in those woodlands, my friend, very lucky.
Crikulus nodded in his sleep, smiling at the recollection. Aye, near chopped my footpaw off with that hatchet. Vermin scum! Good job Skipper arrived. Log a Log, too. Redwallers, true friends, y’know. Those stoats were goin’ to kill us. Haha ... Bet they’re still runnin’... mmm.
Apodemus leaned closer, whispering urgently, We were running, too, last night, through the woodlands, me and you, running. What was it that was after us?
Crikulus thrust a paw out in front of him, his face screwed up. Shaking his head from side to side, he gave a hoarse, high-pitched whimper.
Eeehh! They’re in the grass, coming toward us! Malbun, oh, that smell, it’s everywhere! Can’t you hear the grass moving? ... Run!
I say, either of you two chaps spotted that scallywag Ruggum? Oops, sorry, were you takin’ a nap? Memm Flackery stood framed in the open door, sunlight streaming into the gatehouse around her.
Crikulus’s eyes popped open. He sat up, blinking. Eh? what’s th ...
Oh, it’s you, Memm. Father Abbot, what’re ye doin’ sitting on my chair?
What’s happening?
Swiftly the Abbot slid from the chair arm, making a pretence of searching around the gatehouse. Oh, nothing, sorry we disturbed you. We were searching for little Rug-gum, weren’t we, Memm?
The Harenurse stared stupidly at the furiously winking Abbot. Got somethin’ in your eye? Here, let me take a squint. She rolled an apron corner and licked it.
Apodemus was quickly at her side, muttering, Play along with me!
Memm did not have a clue what was going on. Play along, sari? Righto, what d’you want to play? Hunt the acorn, toss the pebbles? Bit silly playin’ flippin’ games instead of lookin’ for that confounded Ruggum, wot?
Crikulus regarded them both curiously. He was not in the best of humour at having his nap broken. What, pray, are you two gabbling on at, eh?
Can’t I have a bit o’ peace after all I’ve been through? Clear off!
Memm sauntered out of the gatehouse huffily. Hmph, wish we could all sleep the bloomin’ day away, instead of gettin’ our bally jobs done.
Fine state the jolly old Abbey’d be in then. Wot wot wot?
Crikulus was settling back down. As the Abbot was leaving, he tried one more time to fathom the mystery.
I’ll leave you to get on with your nap, old fellow. But just a moment ago, as I came in the gatehouse, you were talking in your sleep. You seemed quite upset.
Crikulus opened one eye. Did I? What was I saying?
The Abbot spoke hesitantly, as if trying to remember, Something about a smell being everywhere and the grass moving. You seemed very unhappy about it all, because you were telling some other beast to run, shouting it aloud. Almost as if something was chasing you both.
Crikulus was wide awake now, and on the alert. Apodemus noted the look of horror on his face as he answered, It was nothing ... only a dream ...
leave me alone, Father!
Apodemus bowed. As you wish. He left the gatehouse.
Log a Log and Skipper were on the ramparts at the northeast corner, staring into the silent fastness of Mossflower Woods, when the Abbot joined them and told them what Crikulus had said.
The Guosim Chieftain felt the fur on his nape prickling. At first I thought they might’ve been attacked by the crows, but this is different.
I don’t like it, Father Abbot. Wot d’you say, Skip? A smell bein’
everywhere an’ grass movin’?
Grasping his javelin, the big otter shook his head. Crows don’t attack at night, leastways I never ‘eard of ‘em doin’ so. Mebbe ‘twas those three stoats trailin’ Malbun an’ Crikulus. They smelt pretty strong, but no worse’n any other vermin that ain’t washed in two seasons. Hmm,
‘tis a puzzler, right enough. May’ap you’n me might go an’ take a look tomorrow, eh, Log? In the meantime, Father Abbot, you’d best forbid anybeast leavin’ the Abbey to go wanderin’ round Mossflower.
Apodemus patted the otter’s well-muscled back. At least until this matter is cleared up. Thank you for your advice, my good friend.
The three stoats had gnawed through the ropes that bound their footpaws together. They sat in the thick woodlands, far from the spot where they had met up with the Red-wallers. Vanquished and humiliated, their mood was far from happy.