"Well, don't go shoutin' it all around the Abbey, but it's me."
Song stifled a giggle at Dann's reluctant confession. "You? I never knew you were called flower?"
Dann looked defiant. "Twas my mother's idea. Dad wanted me named Dannblood, said it was a proper warrior's name, but Mum wouldn't hear of it, she insisted I be called Dannflower. So that's my real name, but Dad an' me shortened it to Dannflor after my mother died. Well, Song, you carry the greenstick an' yore a warrior's daughter. Dipp, you got the rapier, that's a shortsword, so that's the three of us, even though we ain't Chieftains. Who the fourth is, the one who lives by water, huh, who knows? But 'tis plain we three must go!"
Dippler brightened up as the poem's meaning began to sink in. "Aye, Redwall's heart is the tapestry. I understand now, mates. We've got to leave the Abbey before dawn!"
Song interrupted the young Guosim excitedly. "Of course! Listen, here's the first few lines from an old song, one of the first I ever learned, called 'Daybreak.'"
"Before the herald lark,
Ere night's last teardrop falls,
Like dewdrop from a rose,
The rising Minstrel calls . ..
"That's the first bit. Oh dear, I wonder why we've got to go with none to bid us farewell?"
Dann snorted mirthlessly at his friend's innocence. "'Tis obvious. 'Cos they'd stop us, that's why. Huh, imagine my father, he'd say we were off to play some silly games. Then there's yore mum'n'dad an' Grandma Ellayod'you think they'd be pleased to see you wanderin' off into a woodland full o' water rats, Marlfoxes an' who knows wot else?"
Song nodded ruefully. "They'd stop us for sure!"
Dann reached up carefully and took down the sword from its pins on the wall. Martin the Warrior's weapon felt like wildfire in his paws. He held the black-bound grip with its red pommel stone and crosstree hilt, feeling the perfect balance of the lethally sharp blade. Double-edged, strangely chased and patterned down to the perilous tip, keen as an icicle honed by midwinter gales.
Song and Dippler touched their paws to the sword as Dann's voice sounded firm and resolute. "We bring the tapestry back to Redwall Abbey!"
Dippler looked from one to the other. "An' if I can I'll avenge my Chieftain Log a Log!"
Song smiled at them both. "I go with you because you are my friends!"
Dann picked up a broad old belt from the shelf and fastened it across one shoulder to his waistbelt. He thrust the sword through the broad belt, so that it was flat across his back, the hilt showing above his other shoulder.
"Well, what are we waitin' for, mates? 'Twill be dawn soon. Come on!"
************************************
Act 2
Four Chieftans Going Forth
Chapter 14
Camouflaged by the morning suntinged leaves of a horse chestnut tree, the Marlfox Mokkan sat in a fork amid the high branches, watching the scene below on the stream-bank, listening carefully to all that was said. He was cunning and highly intelligent, always cautious to know which way the wind was blowing among his brothers and sisters. Accordingly Mokkan had made it back to the camp shortly after dawn, and finding that he was first to return he hid in the tree and watched the reactions as the rest filtered back to the camp in small groups. First to arrive were Ascrod and Vannan with the rats Dakkle and Beelu. They draped the tapestry over some bushes, prepared a scratch meal and sat back to gloat over their plunder. Predak the vixen came next, heading a group of rats, followed by her brother Gelltor at the head of a second band. Cooking fires were lit, and some prepared food while others tended their wounds. By the time the sun was fully up the final few had returned. Ascrod and Vannan with their two rats were the stars of the day, proudly showing off the wondrous tapestry.
"How's that for a nice bit o' thievin', eh?"
"Aye, we were right inside that Abbey for a good while, wounded three, killed one, an' trotted off with this beauty!"
"Pity we never had time for a proper look around. I reckon Redwall's stuffed with treasures."
"They're not so tough. I slew a big owl, stupid creature!"
"Huh, the three we laid out are prob'ly dead by now too. I whacked a shrew wearin' armor so hard that my ax paw still tingles."
Ascrod stood over Gelltor, smiling whimsically. "So, how did the attack go? Not too well, by the look of you lot."
Gelltor flexed his shoulder to get the movement back in it. Grim-faced, he spat viciously into the fire. "Allag, what's the head count?"
Farther down the streambank the water rat called back to Gelltor. "A hundred an' seventy-three, sire. I'm just numberin' the wounded."
Gelltor lay back, watching the blue-gray campfire smoke wreathing among the shafts of sunlight between the trees. "That's nearly a score of rats lost. Then there was Ziral too!"
Vannan tossed aside her food and stood upright. "What? You mean our sister Ziral was slain?"
"Oh, she was slain sure enough. I saw her head lyin' on the ground. The one who did it was a big squirrel, looked as if he was half asleep. Janglur, they called him. I'll remember that one's name!"
Ascrod stroked the tasseled tapestry border thoughtfully. "A Marlfox slain. High Queen Silth won't be well pleased to hear that. What about our glorious leader Mokkan and his grand plan?"
Gelltor kicked a branch hanging from the fire, sending sparks showering as the dead pine crackled. "Mokkan! Don't talk t'me about him. He left it too late for a quick ambush, wanted to stand round chattin' with the Redwallers. It was them who attacked us. There's no doubt about it, they got some fierce warriors an' they were quick too. For a while there we thought we had 'em, they were outnumbered. But then we were hit from behind by gangs of those Guosim shrews, don't know where they came from. That was when we lost the advantage. Next thing Mokkan's yelling for everybeast to retreat, and we had to run for it like a ragtailed bunch of amateurs. I'm not surprised Mokkan hasn't shown his face around camp yet. Bungler!"
As Gelltor finished speaking, Mokkan hobbled into camp, bent almost double and limping badly, his face creased with pain. He held up a paw for silence before any creature could speak further. "All right, all right, 'twas all my fault. I messed it up, by taking those Redwallers for fools, which they weren't. But hear me! You all fought a gallant fight. I couldn't ask for braver beasts in my command, particularly you, brother Gelltor, and you, sister Predak . . ." Here he paused for effect, shaking his head sadly. "And our dear sister Ziral, so treacherously slain after I had called retreat. How can I go back to our mother Queen Silth and tell her that poor Ziral is with us no more? Gelltor, you were right, brother. I should have listened to you."
The Marlfoxes were slightly bewildered. Mokkan had never spoken like this before, but had always been arrogant and imperious. Vannan tapped the handle of her ax against the tapestry. "It wasn't a total loss. Look what we took from the Abbey."
Mokkan had been looking at the thing for over an hour from the tree limb. But he put on an expression of awed astonishment and approached the object reverently. "You stole this? Wondrous, beautiful, it must be beyond price! Well, congratulations to you. Our mother will be overjoyed to see such a splendid and magnificent prize. At least poor Ziral didn't give her life in vain. But remember what she said here only a day ago. Blood calls for blood. It is the code of Marlfoxes, our law. Redwall and its creatures must pay dearly for our sister!"
Gelltor drew his ax and brandished it in Mokkan's face. "Like I said at first, we should have gone to war!"