Mattimeo Part 43

Rollo tried, but the pebble kept hitting the top of the wall and bouncing back. Half preoccupied with watching the antics of the little one, Cornflower turned away from her vigil. Constance joined them, and as the mice played with the baby bankvole, she looked out across the south reaches, casually at first.

Then Constance froze as if she had been turned to stone. She remained rigid, staring southwards and slightly west.

Cornflower looked up as she retrieved Rollo's stone. "Constance, what is it?"

"Dust!"

"Dust? Where from?"

"Seems to be from beyond that bend in the path, behind the trees. I can't tell yet. Wait a moment. . . .Yes, if s dust all right, and if s coming this way!"

The three mice scrambled to the top of a battlement.

Cornflower jumped up and down, and Constance had to catch her ap.r.o.n strings to keep her from falling.

"Ifs dust! Somebeast is coming up the path, I know ft!" Cornflower shouted.

John Churchmouse quickly donned his gla.s.ses. "There must be a great many to send up a dust cloud like that so early on an autumn morning. They'll be round the bend soon. Listen, can you hear voices?"

Constance leaned forward, straining her ears. Faintly she could catch the strains of voices chanting the familiar warriors' cries of Redwall and Mossflower.

Round the bend of the path they came, the paws of the horde raising a cloud of brown dust.

Cornflower could see the leaders as they began to march in double time at the sight of Redwall Abbey.

"Ifs Matthias and Mattimeo, they've returned!" she shouted.

John Churchmouse and his wife yelled aloud, "Look, mere's our Tess and Tim. . . . Hooray!"

Constance leaned out across the battlements. "There's Basil, and Jess and Sam. See, they've got young Cynthia with them!"

"I can see two badgers!"

"There's an owl. Look, an owl!"

"Hedgehogs, shrews, woodlanders! By the fur and daw, there's a great army of woodlanders coming this way!"

'Turn out the Abbey, tell the Father Abbot. Sound the bells!"

Matthias marched shoulder to shoulder with his friends, while the horde packed in behind them gazed up in awe at the red sandstone Abbey which reared above the trees ahead.

Mattimeo began laughing. Tim, Tess and Cynthia pounded him on the back as they shouted and cheered wildly: "Good old Redwall, tell Ambrose to get the barrels open!"

434.

435.

"Who's that on the walls? If s your mum. Look, there's ours too. Mum, Mum! Uyou think they can hear us?"

The Methuselah and the Matthias bells began pealing and clanging out across the clear morning air.

Bong! Clang! Boom! Bong! Clang! Boom!

Basil halted the army. "Right markers, get fell in. Come on, you sloppy lot, we're coming home like a proper army, not a ragam.u.f.fin crowd. Ranks of six, chins in, chests out, shoulders back. Step lively there, you at the back, catch up. Come on, come on, laddie buck, you're not on a daisy-chain ramble now, /know. Quick march!"

"Never gives up, does he?" Jess muttered to Sam from the side of her mouth. "You watch, he'll be the first to break ranks and charge if anybeast throws a pie over that wall."

The hot morning sunlight shafted down on the brown dust rising between the green and gold leaves of Mossflower as the main doors of the old red sandstone Abbey burst open.

The Abbot walked out at the head of the Abbey dwellers. They lined the path facing Matthias at the head of his army.

There was complete silence as they stood looking at each other.

The warrior mouse unslung his great sword. Stepping forward, he laid it flat in the dust at the paws of Mordalfus.

"Father Abbot, we have come home."

There was a mighty cheer which shook the timbers of the main gate frame, then the ranks broke as every creature dashed forward to greet old friends and meet new ones.

So it was the young ones returned to Redwall.

It took the whole of that day in the Abbof s study for the full story to unfold from both sides.

436.

Matthias, Jess, Basil and Orlando, with Mattimeo, Tim, Tess, Sam, Cynthia and Auma, crowded in alongside Cornflower, Constance and Ambrose Spike.

Food was brought in to them as the young ones related all that had happened from the night of the feast to Malkariss's cells. Matthias, Orlando, Jess and Basil related the hunt for the young ones from the same night up to the death of Slagar.

It was late afternoon before they were done. The Abbot had listened intently to the harrowing narrative. He shook his head sadly.

"In the midst of all our joyous reunion we must never forget fallen friends, particularly Queen Warbeak and Log-a-Log. I will hold services for all our fallen friends at the first sunrise of spring, and they will remain dear to our memories for all the seasons to come."

In the sad silence that followed, Matthias decided to lighten the mood of the proceedings a little. He slapped his paw down on the table.

"Well then, Mordalfus you old twig, I suppose you've been sitting here twiddling your paws while we've been away. Tell me, how did you manage to keep busy?"

The Abbot chuckled. "Oh, we managed, I suppose. However, I'll let Cornflower tell you about that."

Cornflower took her paw from around Mattimeo's shoulder for the first time that day. She stood up and grinned mischievously.

"Hmmm, it was as dull as ditchwater without our warriors and young ones about. Then one fine day we had a visit from some birds. Let me tell you about it. . . ."

They listened spellbound, fuming with indignity at the thought of baby Rollo being held hostage, cheering for Sister May and her drugged strawberries, laughing aloud at the warrior ghost mouse and the terror it caused among the rooks, and finally applauding Constance and Stryk Redkite at the final struggle.

Mattimeo picked up his father's sword and offered it to Cornflower.

437.

"Here, Mum, you should be the Champion of Red-wall!"

Matthias shook his head in amazement. "By the daw and the fur! What a brave bunch we have at our Abbey. I would dearly like to meet this Stryk Redkite."

Constance gazed fondly at Auma as she stroked the young one's headstripes. "You will, Matthias, you will, someday. Now, we must find quarters for our new friends. Sister May and Brother Rufus will open the infirmary to all, for sore paws and old wounds must be treated. I'm afraid there's no supper tonight. You'll have to go straight to bed. Anyhow, you lot look as if a long rest will do you good."

Basil's ears flopped with disappointment. "What, no supper? 1 say, Constance old fruit, the only thing that's kept B. Stag Hare on his paws for nearly a full season was the hope of a good old scoff at Redwall. I mean, what's a chap to do if he's had the old nosebag cut off, wot, wot? Bad form, old gel, t' say nothin' of rank bad manners to our guests. No supper. I don't believe it!"

Mrs. Churchmouse slapped Basil smartly upon the paw. "Mr. Stag Hare, will you kindly give your overworked jaws a rest and be quiet! Thank you. Now let me explain. The reason that we are not cooking supper is that the season is to be named first thing tomorrow: the Autumn of the Warriors' Return. All our Abbey dwellers have volunteered to work through the night, but new arrivals must sleep and keep out of the way. Starting at sunup, we are going to hold a feast in the orchard."

Basil's ears stood up like two signals. "A f-feast, y' say, marm. Will it be a big un?"

Cornflower spread her paws. "The biggest one you've ever sat down to, Basil."

"Golly! Bigger than the summer feast?"

"Far bigger!"

"An' you're all goin' to cook right through the night?"

"Oh yes, that's why we don't want you under our paws. Otherwise we might not have it ready on time."

438.

"**~*v~^r*Q^m "Got it, maim. AU die weaiy warriors sleep while you " UP a Whackin' banfaMl. Right?"

Basil shot out of the Abbof s study like a rocket, calling over his shoulder as he went, "Last one in bed and fast asleep's a rotten egg. Yaaaah!"

Foremole entered the study, rubbing his nose. "Oi jus' bin a-runned over boi a mad crearur'. Hum"

Orlando laughed so hard he hurt his jaw.

439.

54.

The feast of the Autumn of the Warriors' Return began just after dawn. Mist rose in the orchard as the sun began to mount in the sky, and rosy apples dripped dew onto the heads of the creatures who sat beneath the trees. There were far too many for tables, so the entire party sat on the gra.s.s.

Chestnuts were baked and roasted on the fire pit dug by the moles; cheeses were rolled from the larders; fresh fruit lay in heaps between honeycombs and small hillocks of new baked bread.

Ambrose Spike tapped the casks of cider, October ale, berry wines and various fruit cordials which stood on trestles around a thick-boled beech tree.

The liberated slaves sat transfixed. They had never seen such an abundance of fare. Moles called for gangway as they trundled deeper'n'ever pies out on trolleys; long poles slung between otters wobbled under the weight of cauldrons of watershrimp and hotroot soup: hazelnut and acorn scones were laid out in rows to cool by the raspberry canes.

Mrs. Churchmouse and Cornflower barely managed to stop baby Rollo diving from a pear tree into a maple and mint cream trifle, while Mattimeo and his friends were 440.

recapturing their lost season with other young ones from the slave pits. They dashed about, plucking wild cherries from the tops of iced cakes, and sneaking candied chestnuts from an arrangement which Sister May was making. She scolded them tongue in cheek as the intricate heap fell apart for the umpteenth time.

Jabez Stump and young Jube were discovering the delights of strawberry cordial cold from the cellars. They lay beneath a trickling barrel with their mouths open wide, only stopping to munch celery and young onion flan.

Basil Stag Hare was instructing his proteg young Cheek in the art of trencherbeasts.h.i.+p.

"No, no, m'lad. Don't grab it all at once. Watch me. A smidgeon of fruit cake on the plate, a slice to eat now; a pawful of honeyed blackberries for yourself, and one tor your plate; a quick swig of elderberry wine, and fill your beaker with beetroot port; now, 'some of the Abbot's Redwall pie; lots of Brother Trugg's celery and woodland herb dip; compliment the old mole fellers on the deeper'n'ever pie an' they'll give you an extra-large helpin'. Right, tackle that lot, and we'll start again!"

Sp Harry was perched among the sparrows.

"Now listen and mark my words As I eat this delicious cheese. You're really quite lucky birds. To live in surroundings like these, Woodland nutcrunch, gooseberry pie, Honeybaked apples too. Bilberry pudding, my, oh my. Just swallow, don't bother to chew."

The Abbot looked apologetically over his gla.s.ses at Matthias. "There's a very nice fish baking in the pit, a grayling, like the one we caught together many seasons ago. I'm sorry I didn't wake you up to go fis.h.i.+ng, but you were sleeping so peacefully." Matthias shook his head regretfully as he watched the 441.

moles take the dockleaves from the steaming white fish which lay on the pit embers.

"Hmm, I've missed our fis.h.i.+ng trips, but I forgive you. By the way, who did help you? If s more than a one-mouse job, landing a fish that size."

Sister May tugged shyly at the Warrior's habit.

"Beg pardon, Matthias, it was me. We hooked it, played it and landed it together, the Abbot and I."

''Well, I never! Sister May, you're getting a dreadful name around here. Knocking birds out with herbs and cooking pots, helping ghosts to walk, now fis.h.i.+ng half the night after grayling on the Abbey pond. What next?"

"Taking my paw to your young Mattimeo's ear, if he keeps upsetting my candied chestnut display. If you'll excuse me," Sister May said, and hurried off.

Baby Rollo had finally succeeded in diving from the pear tree straight into the center of an oversized sliced apple and wild plum crumble. He sat smiling and eating his way out, a ma.s.s of sweet acorn crumbs and sticky fruit.

Basil Stag Hare wagged his ears in admiration. "Now there's a buck with the right idea. Here, Rollo old messmate, chuck Uncle Basil a helpin', will you? I say, marm, this Mossfiower salad is outstanding. Is that fennel you've grated in with the carrot? Excellent. My, my, what a pretty pattern of parsley and cuc.u.mber around the edge. Talented gel!"

Sister Agnes blushed at the compliments. "Oh, Mr. Stag Hare, have you tried my orchard fruit cake with the b.u.t.tercup cream center?"

"Lead me to it, marm!"

Jess and Sam had taken the young squirrel Elmtail in tow. They laughed at his curiosity as he sampled everything put in front of him.

"Whaf s this one called?"

"Blueberry cream tart."

"Mmmph, great! Whaf s this nice drink?"

"Oh, thaf s cold mint and apple tea. EXyou like it?"

442.

'Til say I do! Can I have some of that funny-looking pie?"

"Ssshh! Don't let the Abbot hear you, that's his new invention, wild cherry and glazed plum gateau with elderflower cream. He's very proud of it."

"Mmmm, so he should be, tastes marvelous. D'you use paws or a spoon?"

'Try using your mouth. Hahaha!"