Matthias stood with his paw upon Mattimeo’s shoulder and gazed around the hushed ledge. Orlando and Auma were with him, Jess Squirrel and her son Sam, Jabez Stump and his son Jubilation, and Basil and Cheek with Tim, Tess and Cynthia. Log-a-Log Flugg and his remaining shrews stood behind Matthias, while before him there was gathered a motley horde of young woodland creatures.
The surviving blackrobe rats had fled down the causeway steps, back to the green misted caves and tunnels that had been the Kingdom of Malkariss. All along the ledge, down the steps of the causeway and across the floor of the bottom workings, lay the ranks of the slain. In the flickering torchlight, eerie shadows danced around the silent rockface.
Mattimeo took the great sword of Redwall from his father as Matthias stood on a rocky knoll with his paws outstretched.
“You are free!” Matthias proclaimed.
A roaring cheer echoed through the underground.
The warrior mouse nodded approvingly. “All of you who suffered under the cruelty of Malkariss, you who were stolen from your homes to lose many seasons of your young lives chained in dark places, let me tell you something. The world outside is dressed in the colours of summer. Grass, flowers, trees and rivers, they are yours. If you cannot remember where you came from, if you have nowhere to go, come with me and my friends to Redwall Abbey in Mossflower country and live in peace there. For two days we have had to fight the powers of evil. Many were slain in the great battle, and you must never forget them, the good creatures who gave their lives to buy freedom for you.”
Heads were bowed, and tears were shed, for lost youth and lost friends. Matthias stepped down and nodded to Orlando, who took his place on the knoll. The Warrior of the Western Plain raised his battleaxe as his thunderous voice boomed out:
“Let us go up into the sunlight! But first we will destroy the symbol of wickedness that has plagued this place!”
* * *
Orlando and Matthias took their weapons to the base of the great white statue which reared from the ledge to the roof of the immense cavern. Orlando spat upon his paws and grasped the axe handle firmly as he swung it back.
“The purple-robed rat, Nadaz, he’s in there!” Tim Churchmouse cried out.
A hissing voice came from between the crystal teeth of the monolith:
“Fools, you cannot destroy the Kingdom of Malkariss. Now I am not only the Voice, I am King of the void.”
Matthias walked round the statue until he found the secret door. It was a tight-blocked entrance, cunningly carved so that it appeared as a mere hairline crack on the smooth limestone.
Matthias struck it with the flat of his blade.
“Come out, Nadaz, it is over!” he cried.
“Over?” The Voice of the Host laughed scornfully. “No, it is just beginning. Malkariss was old and weak. I am Nadaz, I am strong. You cannot get me. The entrance has a secret seal that only I can unlock from the inside. When you are gone I will get more blackrobes, more slavers, and I will follow you and hunt you down like insects.”
Orlando swung the axe, hacking a chunk from the limestone. “Then go to your kingdom, evil one. Eeeeulaliaaaaaa!”
* * *
Woodlanders scattered and began running for the tunnels as pieces of limestone hurtled and flew, shattering against the rocks. Matthias hewed at one side of the statue with his war blade. Orlando pounded at the other side with his battleaxe.
Nadaz screeched and raged inside the head of the great white idol. Steel rang against stone as chunks, splinters, powder and lumps of limestone whizzed in all directions.
The muscles stood out like knotted cords upon the back of Orlando the Axe as he slashed and hacked.
Coated in white dust, Matthias swung the double-edged blade, biting deep into the base of the statue.
Grunting and sweating, the two warriors battered away at the likeness of Malkariss until the limestone began shuddering under the impact. Cracks started to show, running the length of the limestone column which joined the floor of the ledge to the ceiling of the cave. The warriors continued their onslaught, but now doggedness had replaced their former reckless spirit. Still they swung with deadly purpose, ignoring the chips and lumps of stone that flew about them like missiles, directing all the force of their blades against the idol, while Nadaz ranted and screamed.
“You cannot escape. I will hound you across the woodlands, through the seasons, by night and day!”
* * *
The rat’s tirade was blotted out by a deep rumbling that emanated from base to apex of the statue, and the whole ledge began to tremble. Matthias shouldered his sword. Then realization of what was happening took over, and he jerked at the fur of the badger’s back.
Oblivious to everything except the destruction of the evil symbol, Orlando the Axe flung his whole frame against each crashing blow as his weapon bit deeper and deeper into the groaning, splitting stone. Matthias ducked as the double-headed blade swung past him.
“Orlando, stop!” he roared at his companion. “The whole place is collapsing! We must get out!”
With an explosion like a thunderclap, the statue of Malkariss broke off at its base. Matthias and Orlando ran for the tunnel entrance, hearts pounding, ears ringing, as they raced across the quaking ledge. They had caused the earth to dance, just as Jabez Stump’s forebears had witnessed long ago.
The untold weight of the idol dropped, tearing a colossal piece of the cave ceiling with it. A widening rift split the entire ledge into two sections as the statue plunged into the depths, and the rock walls shattered. The two warriors dashed up the tunnel with the entire underground collapsing behind them.
* * *
Mattimeo sat in the copse, watching the last of the woodland horde climbing out into the sunlight. Creatures danced and laughed, rolling in the grass, embracing the trees and waving at the great golden eye of the sun above.
Basil winked at him. “By jingo! That’s something worth waitin’ to see, wot?”
Tess flung herself down at the young mouse’s side.
“Fresh air and freedom, Matti. It tastes better than strawberry wine and new bread!”
The ground beneath their paws started to tremble. They froze, hugging the earth as the whole copse began to shake.
Jube grasped his father’s spikes. “What is it, Pa?” he asked worriedly.
Jabez hugged his young one to him. “The earth is dancing, just as the cliffs once did!”
Jess and Sam dashed to the flight of steps that ran down to the underworld.
“Matthias, Orlando. Get out of there!” they called.
The steps shuddered violently. Jess peered into the gloom. “There’s somebeast coming. Make way, Sam!”
Little Vitch the rat scampered out as if demons were biting his tail. “Yaagh! My whole cell began moving and the door fell off. Help me!”
Mattimeo grabbed him by the neck. “My father and Orlando, did you see them?”
“No, no, I just ran. It’s falling in down there. Can’t you hear it!”
Basil Stag Hare flung himself upon Auma and dragged her back as she tried to get to the steps.
“Father, my father’s in there!” she protested.
A deep rumbling boom exploded from the bowels of the cavern. Trees started to sway crazily and the earth bucked like a tablecloth being shaken free of crumbs.
Mattimeo took hold of Auma’s paw, and they lay flat on the ground. “We don’t leave here until our fathers are out!” the mouse declared.
Basil buried his face against the trembling ground. “Well spoken, young un. I second that proposal.”
There followed a terrific bang.
The entire copse fell, creating a huge valley. From the hole in the ground where the steps started, a whooshing gust of air, white with limestone dust, flew high into the sky like a geyser.
Two round objects shot out like balls from the mouth of a cannon. Matthias landed high in the branches of an elm. Orlando hit the top of a rowan and came crashing to earth in a cloud of twigs and leaves. The axe and the sword stood quivering in the bole of a young beech.
Then the earth stood still.
Basil got slowly to his paws and guffawed. “Haw, haw, haw! Mattimeo, there’s a flyin’ white mouse up a tree over there. Looks a bit like your dad’s ghost, wot?”
Mattimeo could hardly believe his eyes.
Jabez Stump tapped Auma. “Your old pa looks like a lump of white dough ready for the oven, I reckon, missie. Hu-huh-huh!”
Jube patted his spikes to make sure they were all there. “Whew! That big hatchet nearly scalped me!”
Orlando rose, dusting himself off in a dignified manner. “Be careful how you talk of that weapon, young un. It’s a battleaxe, not a hatchet.”
Jess Squirrel and Sam went haring up the beech trunk.
“Stay where you are, Warrior. We’ll get you down, but only if you promise to do no more bird imitations.”
Matthias smiled at Sam’s impudent remark.
“I promise. Just get me down.”
* * *
That same joyous day, the remnants of General Ironbeak’s force were led out on rope leads to the top of the north battlements.
Ambrose Spike and baby Rollo followed them up the north wall steps to the ramparts, the infant bankvole waddling along comically in a passable impression of the bird’s gait.
A light, warm breeze stirred the Abbot’s robe as he and Constance lined the prisoners up. The inhabitants of Redwall stood about on the broad wall top, glaring at the subdued line of rooks and the two magpies, who blinked in the strong sunlight, huddling nervously together at the sight of Stryk Redkite as she watched them from the wall threshold above the gatehouse.
“Is that all of them, Ambrose?”
“Aye, ’tis, Father Abbot.”
“Good. Mrs. Churchmouse, Cornflower, would you put the collars on them, please?”
The two mice emptied iron collars from a sack. Ambrose Spike had made the collars from iron barrel hoops. They were circular and left open in the middle, and slipped easily around the birds’ necks.
Ragwing the rook dipped his head cheekily, and the iron collar slipped off and clanged upon the wallstones.
Winifred replaced the collar and whacked the rook with her rudderlike tail.
“Do as you’re told, featherbag, or I’ll give you something you won’t forget in a hurry,” the otter warned.
The Abbot folded his paws into his habit sleeves.
“You birds, listen to me! We have not slain you or treated you badly, but this does not mean we are soft. Your leader and his crow are dead; the siege of Redwall is over. I have granted you the gift of life. You will be spared, but you must go back to your northlands and never return here again. This is my decision. I will not slay or enslave you, as your General would have done to us. However, you will take with you a token to remind you of your visit to our Abbey. The collars will allow you to fly, not too high, though. They will also prove an encumbrance. Forget your warlike ways; from now on, survival will be your main object.”
The Abbot nodded to Constance.
The mighty female badger took the collar of the first rook between her paws. With a small grunt of exertion she bent it so that the open ends of the iron closed about the bird’s neck. The collar was now firmly in place, not too tight, but not loose enough to get off.
From bird to bird she went, bending the iron neck rings into place until the operation was completed. The rooks and the magpies pecked at the collars and cawed angrily.
Sister May lifted her paw high. “Now, you villains, when I drop my paw the bells will ring and you will fly northwards as fast as you can. When the bells have rung three times, my friend Stryk Redkite will be right behind you, and you know what will happen to anybird who tries to stop or fly off in a different direction. So good riddance, birds. I would advise you to fly pretty fast.”
Sister May dropped her paw.
Bong! Boom!
The Methuselah and the Matthias bells tolled out across Mossflower. General Ironbeak’s depleted fighters flew off as fast as the burden of the iron neck collars would allow.
Bong! Boom!
The Abbey creatures watched them winging low over the treetops, flying north across the summer green fastness of the woodlands.
Bong! Boom!
The great red kite took off from the west wall threshold with the graceful soaring motion of a natural hunter.
“Kreeegah! Stryk Redkite fly, Sissimay. Look!”
“Yes, I see you, Stryk. But remember your promise. Let them leave our country peacefully.”
* * *
When the birds were lost to view, Cornflower and Mrs. Churchmouse took Rollo with them around the walltop to the south edge. The Abbot watched them go.
“Where do you think you’re off to?” he asked them.
“Now that the Abbey is safe, Father Abbot, we are going to keep a vigil from the south wall until Matthias comes home with our young ones. With your permission, of course,” Cornflower added.
Mordalfus smiled understandingly.
“Permission granted. You are excused all other duties. Keep a good watch with stout hearts. I know in my bones that our Warrior will return with the young ones.”
Cornflower shaded her eyes with her paw, repeating quietly to herself as she gazed south into Mossflower, “Martin, return our loved ones safe to us.”
Baby Rollo had not quite got the gist of Cornflower’s quiet words. However, he placed a chubby paw to his brow as he chanted with her, “Marto aturnd luv ones safetyus.”