Ascrod, who had remained silent until now, spoke up. "Listen, brother, we're storing up these valuables for ourselves. Remember, one day our mother will be dead maybe sooner than we think, considering her age. When that day comes we will rule the island together. Castle Marl, everything, will be all ours!"
Ziral chuckled mirthlessly. "Not according to Mokkan. He says we'll kill each other off until there's only one left to rule, right, Mokkan?"
Mokkan shrugged. "Who can tell? I say let the future look after itself, and for now we concentrate on that Abbey. Listen, I've got a plan that's a lot wiser and less warlike than Gelltor's was. Let's get the rats on the march to Redwall. I'll explain to you as we go."
Mokkan was the toughest and most resourceful of all the brothers and sisters. Even Gelltor went along with the scheme when he heard it.
Chapter 7
Tragglo Spearback and his cellar helpers were good carpenters. By midday they were fitting hingelocks to the wallgates, bolts that doubly secured the doors and could only be opened from inside. Rusvul and Janglur were in conference with Log a Log, Skipper and Cregga, deciding what the next move should be in the light of that morning's attempted break-in. The Wandering Noonvale Companions were rehearsing out by the pond, watched by the Abbey Dibbuns. Dann was strolling in the grounds with Song and Dippler when Grandma Ellayo passed them, hobbling toward the gatehouse. Song and her friends took the old squirrel's paws to assist her.
"You're in a bit of a hurry, Grandma. Where are you off to?"
"I'm goin' to the gate'ouse, Song m'dear. Yore dad said Friar Butty needs me t'tell him all I know about those Marlfoxes."
"Oh, can we come too? I love to hear you telling tales!"
The old squirrel looked at the three eager young friends. She paused a moment as if undecided, then gave in to the request. "Oh, if'n y'wish, but y'must sit still an' don't fidget, I can't abide fidgety beasts. Oh, one of you nip back an' tell that nice Brother Melilot that we'll all be takin' lunch in the gate'ouse!"
Dippler sped off, calling back, "Leave it t'me, marm. I'll go!"
A few minutes later, seated comfortably on an old sofa, Ellayo faced Nutwing, who was perched on an armchair opposite her. Butty sat at the desk with quill, ink and parchment. Song and Dann settled themselves on the arms of the sofa. Friar Butty began.
"Now, marm, I want you to speak slowly and clearly. Address my friend Nutwing as if you were telling him a story. I'll sit over here and record all you say. You may begin if you're ready, marm."
Ellayo stroked the smooth top of her blackthorn stick. "Hmm, Marlfoxes, now let me see. When I was a maid, young as Song here, my father told me of a secret island at the center of a great lake somewhere. Foxes had discovered the island and claimed it for their ownof course, that was after the lake monster was slain and the white ghost left the island ..."
Friar Butty cut in on the narrative. "Excuse me, marm, what lake monster and what white ghost?"
Grandma Ellayo sniffed at him irritably. "How should I know? I'm just telling you what was told to me. Can you remember everything from your early seasons?"
Butty held up his paw respectfully. "My apologies, marm. Please continue."
"Where was I? Oh yes! Father said that a tribe of foxes, with water rats to serve them, took over the island and built a big castle there. Then the story went that there was a war. Y'see, most of the tribe were ordinary vermin, save for two, a male an' a vixen, who were Marlfoxes. It was them who were magic. They could make theirselves invisible, 'twas said. Anyhow, the Marlfoxes got the water rats on their side an' wiped out the other foxes, slew 'em all. Then nothin' more was heard of, or from, that island. Now when I was a bit older, I had a mate, Gawjo, an' a liddle 'un too. That was Song's daddy Janglur. Gawjo was a real adventurer an' a great wanderer, an' one day he went off in search of the Marlfoxes' island an' that was the last anybeast ever seen of him. I was left t'bring Janglur up. We became wanderers, always hopin' we'd find Gawjo again someday, but we never did."
Song took in every word. She felt sorry for Grandma Ellayo, bringing up Janglur alone, always searching for her lost husband; it must have been a hard life. She put a paw around her grandma's shoulder as the old squirrel continued.
"One winter, when Janglur was still only a liddle 'un, we were camped in a hole on a streambank, with nought to eat but a few roots an' late berries an' a fire to warm ourselves by. Then one night a young kingfisher, half alive an' freezin', crawls out o' the stream an' up the bank to our dugout hole. Pore liddle bird, I took him in an' shared our fire an' wot vittles we had. This kingfisher told me he'd come from the great lake. He lived on the island an' was fishin' off it when he was set on by a bunch o' magpies. They chased him far, an' left the liddle bird fer dead in the lake shallows. But he wasn't dead, y'see, an' one way or t'other he managed to get away an' survive. I tell ye true, I owed me'n'Janglur's life to that kingfisher. When he got well an' could fly again, he brought food to us all winter long. At night we'd all three of us sit together by the fire to keep warm, an' he told me wot he knew of the island, said it was ruled by one Marlfox now, a murderous vixen callin' 'erself Queen Silth. The kingfisher said that she had a brood of seven cubs, all Marlfoxes, an' she slew her mate 'cos he wanted to call 'imself king. So then, wot d'yer think o' that?"
Old Friar Butty shook his head to think that such wickedness existed. Song crept down off the sofa arm to sit beside Ellayo. "What happened to the little kingfisher, Grandma?"
Ellayo stared into the dust motes swirling in a shaft of golden sunlight from the window, remembering that winter, long seasons ago. "I recall one mornin', 'twas spring, me'n'liddle Janglur woke up an' the kingfisher was gone. I never set eyes on 'im again, but I always hoped that good bird had a happy life, 'cos we owed 'im a lot."
Dippler breezed in with Roop, the mole from the troupe, pushing a trolley laden with food between them. The Guosim shrew bowed. "Lunch is served. Summer veggible soup, leek an' mushroom turnover, an' apple an' blackcurrant flan, with a nice flagon o' rosehip tea to wash it all down. I 'ope you ain't started tellin' the story yet, marm. Nothin' better'n eatin' lunch an' lissenin' to a good yarn!"
Ellayo heaved herself up with a groan and began dishing out the food. "Started? I've done all the tale-tellin' I'm doing for today, young feller m'shrew. Yore too late!"
Friar Butty put aside his quill. "So that's all you know about Marlfoxes, marm, you can't tell us more?"
Ellayo passed him a plate of food. "Aye, right enough, 'tis all. You'd best wash those inky paws afore you eat lunch, Friar."
Nutwing, who had dozed off halfway through the narrative, awoke with a start, blinking repeatedly. "Hmm mm, lunch? Did somebeast mention lunch?"
The mousebabe Dwopple and his two new friends Wugger and Blinny, young Redwall moles, were making thorough nuisances of themselves at the Wandering Noonvale Companions' rehearsal. Runktipp was going through his conjuring act in spite of their constant barracking and interruptions. The hedgehog spread both paws wide, a pebble had vanished, and Florian announced the trick's next stage.
"H'anda now, before your very eyes, the great Runktippo Magicspike will turn the pebble into a long string of flags, which he will produce from his magical mouth while I give a roll of the drum!"
Most of the Dibbuns were silent, gazing awestruck at the performance, but Dwopple sniggered villainously as he called out, "Well 'urry up, gerra h'on wid it!"
Florian shot him a glare that would have shriveled lettuce. "Silence, please. This is an extremely delicate an' dangerous illusion. Kindly refrain from shouting aloud!"