When the escort had departed, the badger resumed his seat on the windowledge. He spread his big paws despairingly. "Maudie Thropple, what are we going to do with you, eh?"
Mad Maudie, as she was known to the mountain hares, shifted guiltily from one paw to the other, murmuring, "Really, I don't know, m'lord, what's anybeast goin' t'do with me, that's what my old pa used t'say."
Major Mullein waggled his ears knowingly. "My old friend, rest his memory, Colonel Thropple. What a gallant and considerate creature he was. Don't you remember any of the lessons he taught you, Maudie?"
The young hare smiled brightly. "Oh indeed I do, sah, Pa
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taught me to box, an' I've been Regimental Champion of the Long Patrol for six seasons now!"
Mullein squinched his eye into a jaundiced stare at her. "We know that right enough, m'gel. You've also been on more charges than any other hare I can recall. You've served five terms in the guardhouse, and had three final warnings about your conduct, wot!"
Maudie stared at the floor. "Sorry, sah."
The Major's tone hardened. "Sorry, is it? Well, let me tell you, missy, sorry's not good enough this time. You've tried the patience of everybeast on this mountain far too long, ain't that right, Lord Asheye, sah?"
The badger nodded. "Yes, it is, Major. Maudie, you leave us no alternative. It gives me no pleasure to drum you out of the Long Patrol. At dawn tomorrow you will leave Salamandastron!"
In the stunned silence which followed, Lord Asheye listened to the haremaid's tears splashing on the forge room floor. There was a loud sniff from Mullein, then he approached the Badger Lord and whispered in his ear.
"I say, sah, we've never drummed a hare from the jolly old regiment. Couldn't ye find some alternative for young Maudie? I've known her since she was a mite, the daughter of my old comrade Colonel Thropple. I used to bounce her on my lap when she was nought but a babe."
The Badger Lord could not explain his next statement. The words tumbled unbidden from him. "I think there's a lot of good in you, Maudie Thropple, so in memory of your father's fine name, I'm going to give you one last chance. The Major and I have decided that you shall go on a most important mission. It will be both dangerous and demanding. Are you willing to go?"
Mad Maudie scrubbed the tears from her eyes with a floury paw. "Oh, rather, sah, say the bally word an' I'm off like a flippin' lark after a ladybird!"
Major Mullein was still registering surprise at Asheye as he spoke to the haremaid. "Right, off y'go, pack a light
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kit an' weapon, apologise to the Corporal and those others you biffed, then report back here for instructions."
As the forge room door slammed shut, Mullein wheeled upon the Badger Lord. "What'n the name o' blue blazes made y'say that, sah?"
Asheye shrugged. "I don't know, Mull, but I think Mad Maudie's the one who'll get the job done. Don't you see yet? She's the maid who will fulfill my dream!"
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4
Abbot Daucus was a brisk, energetic mouse in his mid-seasons. On this particular afternoon his energy was being sorely taxed, as he searched Redwall Abbey high and low, accompanied by Granspike Niblo, the plump, old hedgehog who was Abbey Beekeeper. Daucus paused at the foot of the attic stairs, waiting for Granspike to catch up with him. Both creatures, panting heavily, sat down together on the stairs. Daucus scratched at his scrubby, ginger-tinged beard.
"Well, marm, apart from these attics, that's the whole of the Abbey building we've been through, from the wine cellars to the dormitories. I don't think we've missed anything, have we?"
Granspike stared enquiringly at the Abbot. "The kitchen larders, he could've hid himself there?"
Daucus discounted the suggestion. "No, I searched them myself, whilst you were going through Cavern Hole. Confound that young Prink, where does he get to? More important, where do our goods and chattels go, where does he hide them?"
Granspike rose wearily, dusting her apron off. "Dearie me, Father Abbot, I was wrong an' you were right. We
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should never have taken Orkwil Prink into Redwall. Both his parents were a bad lot, ramblin' an' thievin' like wild-beasts. 'Tis true enough, what was said about 'em, a Prink'd steal the eyes out o' yore head if'n you didn't watch 'em. Four seasons of that rascal is more'n enough for any Abbey. Aye, an' Master Prink has sorely tried every-beast within Redwall. I think he's run out o' sympathy from all, includin' meself!"
Daucus patted the good hedgehog's spines carefully. "It's not our fault, Gran. We couldn't refuse a young 'un a roof over his head and food. It's his mother and father I blame, deserting him and running off like they did. Ah well, no use going over all that again, come on, let's go and take a look through the attics."
He picked up the lantern they had brought along and began climbing the spiral staircase. They had ascended only a few steps, when a deep, rumbling voice echoed up to them from the lower dormitory floor.
"Bee's you'm up thurr, zurr h'Abbot, wull ee bestest cumm daown. Oi've founded ee likkle scallywagger!"
Daucus immediately recognised the caller, Foremole Burff, the leader of Redwall's quaintly spoken moles.
Granspike Niblo's voice went squeaky with relief. "Thankee, Mister Burff, we'll be right down!"
Foremole Burff was waiting on the dormitory landing. He tugged his snout respectfully. "Zurr, marm, you'm ax-cuse oi furr not coomin' up thurr, oi'm gurtly afeared o' tall places!"
Knowing the moles were soildiggers, and afraid of heights, Daucus smiled understandingly. "I'm not too fussy on them myself, Burff. Did I hear you say that you'd caught Orkwil? Where is he now?"
Foremole Burff pointed a hefty digging claw in a downward motion. "H'in ee gate'ouse, zurr, an' he'm gurtly well guarded, burr aye!"
As the trio trooped downstairs, Granspike shook her
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head. "In the gatehouse, I might've knowed it. Father Abbot, we should've searched from the outside and worked inward, 'stead o' doin' it the other way about."
Daucus heaved a long sigh. "Not to worry, the main thing is that young Prink has been caught."
By the time they had reached ground level, and were crossing Great Hall, others were hastening to join them, everybeast speculating.
"Has he been apprehended, the villain?"
"Aye, Skipper's holding Orkwil in the gatehouse!"
"So that's where he was hiding?"
"No, they just took him there so he couldn't escape."
"Well, where was his secret hiding place, d'you know?"
"No, but we'll soon find out, come on!"
Out the Abbey door they paraded, down the front steps onto the gravelled path between flower beds and lawns. A high sandstone outer wall ran foursquare around the Abbey grounds; it had a walkway on top, and battlements. Each section of the wall had a small wicker gate built into it, with the exception of the main threshold gate. This was the western ramparts, containing the big oaken main gate; it had a gatekeeper's lodge built against the wall. Either side of the gate, two flights of stone steps ran up to the threshold walkway. More Redwallers had congregated around the gatehouse area.
Abbot Daucus paused at the gatehouse door, surveying the crowd who were gathered there. He frowned. "Have you nothing else to do but hang about here? Friar Chon-drus, no meals to prepare, Sister Atrata, no patients to attend in sickbay? Please disperse and go about your chores. The Elders and I can deal with this matter. You will all get your goods back, I assure you."
A group of Dibbuns, Redwall's Abbeybabes, was seated on the bottom of the wallstairs. Daucus cautioned them, "I hope you little ones aren't thinking of climbing those steps to the walkway?"
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A tiny squirrel named Dimp shook his head severely at the Father Abbot, answering for his companions. "We all be h'Elders, us goin' inna gate'ouse, an' 'ave a word wiv naughty Orkwilt!"