CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Gibb Dartag found himself standing in the abbot's study, confused and slightly apprehensive. That morning, as he had started to write out the plans for the smaller structures he had already created for mass production, Master Simm had joined him and Master Pax, and told Gibb that he was to be escorted to the study. Even Simm had not known what the commotion was all about. At breakfast, Abbot Peromus had been called away by Brother Caldo, and they both left with Mother Vera in tow, who was, rather oddly, flexing her muscles as she did so, gulping down a rather strong cup of tea on the way out of Cavern Hole. Kitch had shown up a little later, and the moles were reportedly instituting a temporary ban on venturing outside the abbey building.

The fox had been escorted to the empty study and left there, whilst Masters Pax and Simm waited outside for the abbey superiors to arrive.

Abbot Peromus walked in and smiled forcefully at the fox, to which Gibb responded in kind. The others, however, did not even attempt that. Brother Arden chose to ignore him, and instead walked in looking very officious, with a blank scroll of parchment, a quill and a pot of ink tucked under his arm. Master Felwin's entrance came accompanied with a fierce growl, marching up to Gibb and telling him to stand up straight, before wandering over to a window and leaning against the frame. Gibb had been vigilant enough to notice a scabbard holding a short sword hanging from the master-at-arms' belt.

Gibb Dartag didn't ask where Vera Saxonos was.

The Father Abbot sat himself down in his chair, and Arden his, who unfolded the parchment and began taking notes, even before anybody had spoken. Dartag tried peering over the top of the squirrel's arm that was hiding his notations, but as he did so, Abbot Peromus began.

'How are you this morning, Gibb?'

'Not too shabby,' he replied. 'What's all this about?'

'This morning the abbey received a visitor,' said Abbot Peromus, making sure not to betray anything emotional. 'An owl, in fact, who goes by the name of Otis. You may have noticed that we put up a corden around the abbey during that time; that is because we have had some bad experiences with this particular bird. He is, however, very well trusted by a holt of otters that are good friends and allies of Redwall, and he sometimes serves as a messenger for them. That was the purpose he was fulfilling today.'

Gibb heard the faint sound of Master Felwin shifting his pose against the window frame.

'Two days ago, a family of mice, a shrew and a squirrel arrived at Camp Parley, former citizens of a settlement called Marshtown, which was established on the North Eastern shore a couple of seasons ago,' the abbot went on. Now, he lowered his head and his voice became more sincere. 'However, very recently the fate of this town became considerably less hopeful. The beach upon which it sits was the landing site of a large invasion force, much bigger than anything witnessed in Mossflower Country and its surrounding lands since records began. This force numbers in the thousands, and is made up of organised and well-equipped soldiers. Some of them are even building siege equipment. The local population has been imprisoned.

'However, what is more worrying about this situation is how far it seems this force has managed to spread in such a small amount of time. A young otter, who was travelling along the River Moss westwards, has been taken, and the otters have reason to believe that this unkown army is responsible. It is a concern much larger in scope, as it suggests that this army, or offshoots of it, has now ventured south of the Strigidan Mountains, and is potentially no more than a day's march away from Redwall Abbey. Also of deep concern is the fact that the peaceful town of Noonvale lies on the other side of the Bold Mountains and Moor, which runs from the north to the south, and separates the marshes in which Marshtown lies and the countryside in which Noonvale sits. Many lives are at stake here, Gibb, and so I want you to be honest and truthful in the next few minutes.'

Gibb was bemused. Surely they could not think that he knew anything about...

'Do you know anything about this invasion?'

The question startled Gibb slightly. 'Wh... why would you think I knew anythin' about it?'

Felwin leapt. He delivered a sharp blow to the back of the fox's head, who fell forward onto his face, hitting the study floor with a resounding thud.

'Master Felwin, control yourself!' shouted the abbot furiously. Brother Arden stopped writing, and stood up from his chair to help the fox up. However, the fury of Felwin's punch had transferred to Gibb in a manner that betrayed him; as soon as he was up on his feet, the fox threw himself at the otter, his teeth latching onto Master Felwin's arm, his paws clutching ferociously onto the otters', which were clawing madly in an attempt to grab the hilt of the short sword he carried.

'Masters-at-arms!' came a cry from Brother Arden, which was followed by the vicious entrance of Masters Pax and Simm, who ran in, just as the fox had managed to lay a paw on the hilt of Felwin's weapon. He drew the short sword high for all in the room to see, before the rage and the instinct overcame him, and it fell with forced velocity towards the chest of the fox with a scream - a scream quickly cut short by the quick thinking of Master Pax, who swung the mace he carried in a horizontal arc, hitting Gibb on the side of the head, knocking him onto the floor unconscious and diverting the path of the sword.

Felwin scurried out from under the bulk of Dartag's incapacitated body, and stood up, shaking away offers of assistance. Across the room, he saw the Father Abbot, staring in plain disbelief at the scene he had just witnessed. Master Felwin realised that he had no better opportunity than the one presenting itself to him now. Striding confidently past Master Simm and Master Pax, he stood to attention before Abbot Peromus, and delivered his ultimatum.

'Father Abbot, it is clear to me that what has just transpired here was an act of defiance against the truth,' he said, clearly and without any hint of shame at the guesswork he was handling. 'I believe that Gibb Dartag knows exactly what is going on the North Eastern shore, and I seek the permission to take Mr Dartag down to the Lower Basements, where he will be secured as a prisoner of Redwall Abbey. Then, with your permission, I will interrogate him until he delivers the necessary information that can be used to properly defend Mossflower Country from the threat presenting itself.'

Abbot Peromus realised that his plan had been shattered, and the reason accompanying it no more than a fool's dream; to believe that he could have let events play out without something volatile occurring was incredibly naive. But there was no doubt in Abbot Peromus' mind that the beast responsible for this change in circumstance was not Gibb Dartag. It was Master Felwin.

The abbot found his voice. 'Permission granted,' he murmured, in a daze. Shortly after saying it, he began to regret it, but he knew there was no alternative now.

Master Felwin instructed his two comrades to lift up the fox and drag him down to the lower basements, a part of Redwall Abbey that was rarely ventured to and never used. As they did so, the otter retrieved his sword and slid it back into its scabbard. Once the three guards had left, Abbot Peromus collapsed back in his chair.

'What have we started, Arden?'

Brother Arden looked sympathetically at his abbot. 'I think, in the end, it was inevitable. Gibb was raised to be a pirate, and all he was doing was suppressing an instinct buried so thinly it was bound to be revealed eventually.'

The abbot nodded in sad agreement. He pushed himself upward off the chair, and walked over to the window next to his desk, which looked out across the orchard from its location on the first floor, above the east entrance to the building. He watched some of the Dibbuns playing amongst the apple trees, hoisting one another up to the branches in an attempt to retrieve some of the new fruit. Soon, Sister Bula appeared, which caused the precarious structures the young creatures were forming themselves into to collapse in a mess. A young otter and hedehog quickly dashed off with broad smiles on their faces, whilst those that had been the highest on the shoulders of their friends, and so took more time to compose themselves, were grabbed by the sister and firmly berated.

Abbot Peromus had read enough and was suitably learned to know that there were only a few reasons why any army would want to invade Mossflower. Redwall Abbey. Its splendour was suitably grand enough to give any creature reason to believe it held treasure, a rumour that any abbey dweller knew was far from real. Yet, from the historical accounts, it was clear that it was a rumour destined never to be undone.

There was a short tap on the door, and Mother Vera entered without waiting for an invitation. She wore a grin on her face, carrying a piece of parchment and the green-hilted sword.

'I've done it!' she said happily, putting the sword down on the table along with the parchment.

'Done what?' asked the abbot, making his way back to his chair and settling into it. He then saw the parchment and the writing.

'Oh excellent!' Brother Arden cried, his hands in the air. 'Read it, read it!'

The badger mother picked the parchment back up again.

'Now, this may be slightly inaccurate, as I was practically having to make up words to have the translation make sense,' she said apologetically. 'But, this is the best I could come up with, so, here goes:

'The place where you wield me, is the place where you shield me,

For I am more than the sword, than the ship at the ford,

What I present is what I can deal thee.

Here the guardian lies buried, within your grasp I am ferried,

And will stay trussed and bound, 'til with a round I am found,

With just one circle I am sullied.

Of hundreds of pairs I am but one odd twin, carrying the key that tickles the pin,

Kept apart to keep secret the moor, the winding rivers, the woodlands of lore,

Open my sibling to force my hand, and he will come and conquer your land.

These are the artefacts of royal decree, given to those who travel the sea,

Mem'ry to land where their loyalty lies, and freedom and glory burn in their eyes,

Keeping the coast and the sea, maintaining the truth and serving the free.'

Mother Vera looked up at Brother Arden and Abbot Peromus, waiting for a response to her recital.

'I've read it twice, but only as a means to make sure the literature made sense,' she said. 'As for actually deciphering the poem, well, I thought I'd leave that to you two. You've spent your whole lives reading, you're probably better at deciphering puzzles than an old warrior like myself.'

Vera handed the parchment to Abbot Peromus, who scanned the text and tried to understand it. He looked at the sword, thinking it would give him some inspiration, but it failed to do so. He looked at the twelve lines in the Ancient Mustelidae-like writing on the sword, wondering if certain keywords written in the original language gave clues to the location of certain parts of the sword that could reveal its secret.

'Here Arden, why don't you have a look,' he said, handing it over to the Abbey Recorder. If knowledge of language and reading were the keys to the ability of deciphering puzzles, then he was by far and away the most qualified for the job.

Brother Arden appeared to do the same as the abbot; looking at the common translation, and then looking back at the original language, but then he shook his head and decied to focus on the translation instead.

'"The place where you wield me, is the place where you shield me",' he said out loud. 'I think that is an important line. And, "of hundreds of pairs I am but one odd twin". I wonder if we require the "twin" to unravel the puzzle?'

Mother Vera suddenly had a thought. 'Father Abbot, in the picture that I used to translate the writing, it featured a sword and a shield,' she said excitedly. 'What if the twin is a shield, and that holds the key to deciphering the puzzle?'

'Maybe you're right, Vera,' said the abbot. The events with Gibb Dartag and Master Felwin had rather exhausted him, and was not really in the mood for riddles. He stood up again and walked over to a bookcase at the other end of the study. He found a dark, wooden-bound book at around his eye-level, and pulled it out of the bookcase, and then rummaged around in the space where it had sat. His paw soon found a lever, and he pulled it sharply, causing a whirring sound which eventually pulled the bookcase to one side.

There were no looks of surprise from his guests: they had seen the small space behind the bookcase before. It had been created secretly by an unknown abbot many years ago, probably even before the Great Peace, to store some items integral to some of the darker parts of the abbey's history. These were objects to which a particular abbot or abbess had felt too connected or thought too important to throw away in spite of popular opinion. The reasons for the secret storage of some of the pieces had been lost to history: a piece of wood with six angry claw marks along it; the plans for a large crossbow-like weapon; a scallop shell; and others whose past were either best left forgotten or the subject to legendary tales told by the older Abbey dwellers.

Normally, only an abbot would know about the moving bookcase, but Peromus had decided to tell his two closest friends, Brother Arden and Mother Vera, about it - a decision he had no doubt had once been taken by other past abbey leaders.

'I'll keep the sword and the translation in here,' he said, taking the sword and parchment from the desk and placing them carefully in a corner of the small space. 'At least, until we happen upon the shield, if that ever does occur. Meanwhile, we have bigger issues at hand.'

/

The lower basements were a dark, dingy, subterranean area of Redwall Abbey. Some hypothesised that they weren't even officially part of the abbey: but in fact were the deepest cellars of the ancient castle that once stood on the site. Once forgotten, they had been rediscovered many years ago, and minor improvements had been made to those areas that hadn't caved in. A large, heavy bolted door also now blocked the entrance to it from the basements, after it was found out many of the Dibbuns would venture down into the area as a show of bravery.

The lower basements were also quite the library: over the many hundreds of years that Redwall Abbey had stood, the walls of the dark, dingy, crypt-like space had become ordained with reams of molescript. Shortly after Redwall Abbey had been constructed, the legendary Moledeep, stories of which were often passed between generations of moles, had been abandoned as the population moved into the abbey. However, occasionally, moles would stumble upon the lower basements and etch out their own stories and tales, most of which were about their ancient home. The legend of Moledeep was perhaps even more curious and its location speculated on more than Brockhall, the ancient badger dwelling.

Gibb Dartag was dragged into one of the small rooms off the long corridor that formed the spine of the lower basements. Master Felwin placed a chair in the middle of the room, and Dartag was bound to it with rope, tied by Master Simm; his expertise in tying knots was unmatched. Dartag struggled wildly, but his efforts were in vain. He quickly calmed when Master Pax and Master Simm begrudgingly left on the instruction of Felwin.

'So, scum,' said Felwin contemptuously. 'What do you know?'

Dartag declined to answer. He simply stared hatefully back at Felwin.

'ANSWER ME!' screamed the otter suddenly, pouncing forward and laying a hard, back hand punch across Dartag's snout.

'I know nothing!' Dartag shouted back.

'Of course you do!' Felwin responded. 'Where did you come from? What were you before you came to Redwall?'

Gibb Dartag looked at Master Felwin oddly - the otter had asked the question with a strange variation in pitch that suggested the question was more rhetorical than he had intended.

'You already know...' he said slowly. Felwin backed up, and Dartag continued, but with more hostility. 'You already know, don't you? How do you know? How?'

Felwin, ironically, became intimated by his prisoner. However, realising the idiocy of the situation, quickly laid back into him, only realising afterwards that he was betraying an order given to him by his Father Abbot. Then again, it had escalated this far, so it didn't really matter.

'You know, we're very good friends with some enemies of yours,' said Felwin, leaning in to the fox. 'So good, in fact, we hosted a party for them a few days ago. An' they told us all about your old sailing ship, Red Raider innit? Y'see, they've got a few of yore old shipmates locked up in their cells.'

'The badger and the fire?' said Dartag suddenly, petrified.

'That's right,' smiled Felwin. 'Salamandastron.'

Dartag suddenly frowned, confused, looking down and thinking about Felwin's response. 'Er, yeah, Salamandaston,' he said, recovering, and putting a look of horror back on his face. Whilst he had not been thinking about the mountain, he was not about to reveal that to Master Felwin, and he still knew of the feared Long Patrol.

'They told us all about your li'l adventures,' said Felwin. 'Ships with fire?'

Dartag didn't think. 'You know about the mouse and the standard?' he blurted out. As soon as he saw the expression on Felwin's face, he knew he had spoken far too soon.

'What mouse? What standard?'

Felwin tried to recover. 'Er... nuthin'.'

This earnt him another weighted punch, this time so hard that it lifted the front two legs of the chair up, and, before Dartag could shift his body to counteract, he fell backwards onto the cold, stone ground.

'Tell me!' shouted Felwin, kneeling down to look at Dartag straight in the eye.

'The fancy sword that was confisca'ed off me by Brother Arden,' said Dartag. 'I got it off a mouse who I killed on Sampetra. He was with a group of otters, stoats and weasels, as well as a couple of female squirrels. They 'ad a flag, which was the same as the flag on the ship that shot fire. We reckoned they're the same. I reckon they're also the same lot that've landed on the north east shore.'

Felwin's eyes did not blink. Dartag could not tell if he was befuddled or furious.

'What sword?'

NOTE

Still working on the world map! However, I have been working from the work of another Redwall fan for the design of Redwall Abbey. The link wouldn't work, so just go to Google, and type in "jadematrix" and "Redwall Abbey". Should be there.

The library is located not just in the small west wing (which hosts other rooms below it), but also in the attic space of the connecting block below it. The abbot's study is located on the first floor of the block to the left of the library. Dartag's workspace (now former workspace) is located by the large trees in the southeast corner.