"When we get time, there'll be a good stone marker carved for our pore mates back there, so they'll never be forgot by Redwallers. But fer now, messmates, let's git back t'the business of livin' an' survivin'. Janglur, Borrakul, mister Florian an' meself will move Cregga Badgermum out o' the gate'ouse an' up to 'er room. Bargle, will you an' yore Guosim guard the walls? Arm yoreselves with slings an' bows'n'arrers. Runktipp, stow yoreself in the belltower, an' if the shrews tip y'the signal that vermin are about, be ready to toll the alarm bells. Roop an' Muggle, will yer be kind enough to 'elp Gubbio Foremole an' Sister Sloey check on the wounded."
Sloey fussed with her apron distractedly. "Oh dear, what with lookin' after the Dibbuns an' gettin' things tidy I almost forgot about our injured ones. Still, a good quiet rest's what they need most. We'll take them up some lunch soon as 'tis ready."
A few minutes later, Florian entered the gatehouse and swept off his big floppy hat with a double flourish at the wounded badger. The friends were determined to cheer Cregga and not let her dwell on her sadness, or her injury.
"Ahem, marm, 'tis only m'goodself Wilffachop come to inform ye that your carriage waits without!"
Cregga turned her face in his direction. She was not in the best of moods after an uncomfortable night. "I know 'tis you, hare, and stop waving that hat about, you'll disturb the dust an' have me sneezin'. Now, what's all this about a carriage outside? D'you think I'm a helpless Dibbun?"
Janglur nudged Skipper gleefully as he popped his head around the door. He announced in a loud officious voice, as if talking to nobeast in particular, "One actors' cart waitin' to transport a wounded Abbeybeast. Er, is there a passenger in 'ere?"
The big badger struggled upright from the couch, grabbing a broken spearshaft, which she waved threateningly. "Just let anybeast try to get me into a rickety actors' cart an' I'll give 'em a headache they won't get over for ten seasons!"
Janglur clapped a paw to his mouth to stifle laughter, while Skipper called out in a voice dripping with sincerity, "Ho, marm, 'ow can you say such things? All's we're thinkin' of is yore 'ealth. After you've 'ad a nice ride in the cart we'll carry you up to yore room an' let Sister Sloey feed yer on a nourishin' lunch of 'erb broth an' elderflower water."
That was enough for Cregga. A deep rumble of anger burst forth from the mighty badger. Grabbing Florian and lifting him as if he were a babe, she stumped resolutely out of the gatehouse, with the helpless hare protesting volubly.
"I say, marm, bad form, put me down, wot! Don't stand there grinnin' like ticks at a tea party, you chaps, help me!"
Cregga almost walked straight into the cart, which was drawn up just outside the gatehouse door. Feeling its contours with her paw, she dumped Florian unceremoniously into the seat and gave the cart a mighty shove. It flew off across the lawn, with the hare still yelling.
"Most uncharitable of ye, marm! I'll make a note of this peevish behavior, you can jolly well bet I will! Yowch! Heeeeeelp!"
His pleas went unheard as Cregga raised a threatening paw at the other helpers. "If you've got any sense you'll stay clear o' me. I'll walk back to the Abbey alone. Oh, an' you can tell Sloey if she wants to see another season she'd better not mention herb broth an' elderflower water while I'm around. I need proper food an' the comfort of my own room for a day or two!"
Skipper fled past her, tugging Janglur with him. "Put a move on, matey. Dann an' Dippler an' yore Song 'ave taken over Cregga marm's room, so we'd better git there afore she does an' shift those young 'uns out sharpish like!"
Baby Dwopple was wide awake and none the worse after his ordeal. He elbowed his way in between Blinny the molebabe and Florian at the dining table for lunch. "Where a vikkles? I starven!"
The hare rescued his summer salad and apple pie, scowling at Dwopple. "Have a care there, young wretchlet, I need all the nourishment I can lay me flippin' paws on. Recoverin' from a nasty cart accident, y'know. I say, is that beechnut sponge I see? Chuck it this way, will you, m'good mole, wot!"
"I needs feedin' too. I 'scaped! I fighted off those badbeasts! I frighted mista Stickabee . . ."
Cregga felt her way up the stairwell and gave the unlatched door of her room a light push. As it swung open, the badger entered, feeling about with outstretched paws. "Somebeast's there. Come on, who is it?"
Janglur's reply was tinged with foreboding. "Only me'n' Skipper, marm, but I ain't certain wot's goin' on."
Cregga lowered herself into her favorite armchair as he continued.
"Last night my Song was put in 'ere with young Dann an' the shrew Dippler. You 'eard about wot 'appened to 'em, they was injured. But they ain't 'ere no more, an' Skipper sez that Martin's sword is missin' from the wall yonder."
The badger mused over this information for a moment before replying. "Hmm. It sounds a bit strange, but let's not dash into anything. They must be about somewhere, probably still within the Abbey."
Janglur was not convinced. "But wot if they ain't?"
The door behind them began creaking slowly shut before a slight draft. Skipper pointed to it. "There's some markin's scratched on that door!"
Janglur inspected it closely, telling Cregga what he could see. "Fairly fresh scratches, marm, done quick like with a sharp point. 'Tis only four letters. G an' T an' G an' T."
Skipper opened the door. "I'll go down an' see if they're at lunch, or they might be in the orchard. You two try an' figger those letters out."
Cregga rose from her armchair. "Wait!" Crossing to the door, she pressed her muzzle gently against the scratches, sniffing as she moved over the markings. "G . . . T . . . G ... T! I've a feeling those marks were made hastily by the last one to leave this room, carrying Martin's sword. He or she scratched them. G . . . T .. . G . . . T!"
Janglur nodded as the solution dawned on him. "Aye, that'd be young Dann, tryin' to prove hisself after Rusvul shouted at 'im last night, and the other two've gone with 'im. We'd better get searchers out, Skip, find 'em an' get 'em back inside this Abbey before anythin' bad 'appens to Song an' her pals. I just figgered it out. Those four letters mean Gone To Get Tapestry!"
Skipper stared at the letters. "Of course, that's wot they've done, taken Martin the Warrior's sword an' gone to get our tapestry back. Only beasts with not many seasons under their belts would try a thing like that. Young, brave'n'fool'ardy. Wish my otters was 'ere, we'd get 'em back afore y'could blink. Trouble is that I think my tribe's left the falls an' gone north on the stream down to the seaside. Lots o' good vittles there durin' summer."
Janglur untied the sling from his waist. "Can't stand 'ere jawin' all day. They might be in danger. Come on!"
Bong! Boom! Bong! Boom! Bong!
Skipper dashed past Janglur down the stairs.
"Foebeasts at the gate!"
Chapter 15
By mid-noon Mokkan seemed well on the road to recovery. He had sat up after a long nap and eaten food. The water rats did not stray far from the camp, but sat awaiting his orders. Mokkan made a great pretense of trying to stand, but sank back down again grimacing. He beckoned to the rat Beelu. "You're a good strong beast. Help me up and walk along the streambank with me while I get these paws working properly again."
Beelu helped the Marlfox to stand upright, and Mokkan leaned heavily on him, smiling his satisfaction. "Ah, that's better. Let's try a short stroll downstream, shall we?"
Silently the water rat obeyed, trying hard not to stumble as he guided his charge along the bank, close to the water. It was not long before they were out of sight of the others.
From behind the trunk of a crack willow, Fenno the shrew watched them. Weary, hungry and red-eyed from lack of sleep, he had blundered round Mossflower until he was hopelessly lost. The shrew groveled down in the earth at the base of the willow and tried to meld himself with the tree, not knowing what to make of the incident that followed. He saw the paw that Mokkan had about Beelu suddenly lock around the rat's neck and tighten. Mokkan spoke gently, soothingly, as he slowly throttled the life from his victim. "What'll you tell my sister Vannan now, rat? This is the last lesson you'll ever learn, never try to outsmart a Marlfox!"