Chapter 13

As morning broke and the sun rose over the vermin camp, it revealed the bloodied, tattered body of the former captain Longtooth hanging from a nearby tree. Nothing more was said. There was nothing more to say.

Krigg had his mind elsewhere this morning. He had been in deep thought all evening and night, and finally he called his captains to him to inform them of his plans. In a few minutes the horde captains has assembled themselves in the Warlord's tent: Durg the stoat, Fayde the rat, Terran the weasel, Stalgrin the fox, and the newest captain, Knobear the weasel.

"Insubordination," Skarliff began, "insubordination, treachery, and so-called heroism-- this is what I have had to deal with as of late. An overconfident fox and his seedling of an army, a traitorous captain, some mad woodland otter by the river who ambushes my soldiers, and now, so you have no doubt seen, I have had to deal with yet another ambitious captain. Know where your loyalties lie or that could be you as well." The remaining captains nodded. There were five of them, including the latest replacement: in better seasons there had been eight to ten captains serving under Krigg at a time. The balance of them had either been slain by battle or by their own overambition.

"Now," he continued, "two of my problems have been solved. But there still remains the matter of those who dare oppose me. This shall soon be remedied. Rather than engage this so-called army of woodlanders in combat, having lost the element of surprise, I have decided to apply the principles of the horde to that of our opponents: I shall capture the ringleaders of this rabble to show them just what the consequences of insubordination are." The Warlord studied the faces of his captains. "There is no need for the entire horde to break camp, as before; I will send only two of my captains for this task." He pointed to the fox Stalgrin. "You shall go. Knobear will accompany you. You have five days and five nights. You are to find the otter, and the fox, and bring them alive. Succeed and you will be rewarded. Fail and you might as well not return, though you will not be able to run long. Take with you fivescore of your companies." With this and a wave of his claw, Krigg dismissed the captains.

.

Brother Lucas was up early this morning. He had slept pleasantly and when he awoke he decided to have an early breakfast up in the gatehouse. Like his predecessors, he preferred the solitude of the early morning and his private, dusty wallside room. He entered the gatehouse with each paw carrying a part of his breakfast and set it on his desk so he could pull up his favorite chair. He found a mousemaid sleeping in it.

"Leslie!" he called as he shook her gently. "Leslie you rascal, wake up. You're in my chair."

Leslie blinked. "Go t' sleep," she muttered nearly incoherently, "go 'way, m'reading." She closed her eyes again.

Brother Lucas shook her again. "You've been up here all night, it's time to get up now."

Leslie opened her eyes and looked around. Shelves, papers, books, the edge of the chair, a paw, Brother Lucas. "Brother Lucas?" she yawned. "What time is it?"

"It's dawn already. I say, you've been sleeping up here all night. Does Sister Sara know where you are? No doubt she'll be sending out a search party to find you if you aren't in your bed."

She was awake now. "Sister Sara! I forgot! Didn't mean to fall asleep. Goodness, Friar Gringle's probably wondering where I am as well. Thank you Brother Lucas." Getting up hastily the mousemaid ran down the stairs of the gatehouse and dashed off.

Brother Lucas laughed and pulled up his chair to eat his breakfast and write in his Recorder's journal.

Threesday, the thirty-seventh day of the Autumn of the Breeze.

I started my morning off early and decided to drop into the kitchens. Friar Gringle equipped me with a most hearty breakfast, including his first batch of breakfast scones. I arrived at the gatehouse only to find I had been beaten there-- young Leslie was fast asleep in my chair, curled up as peaceful as ever! She apparently was up here all night an -- my my, what is this? I seem to be sitting on a book. Let's see what it is this time.

Hello! Two books. The journals of Brother Methuselah and John Churchmouse. That's from the time of Matthias the Warrior and the Vermin Wars! Leslie must have fallen asleep reading them. Just the other day I found her with the old journal of Abbess Germaine, of all beasts. It's so old the pages are near ready to crumble to dust! Somebeast should really look into preserving these old volumes better. So now, what of Methuselah and John Churchmouse? Perhaps I should investigate a bit myself. Something's been drawing young Leslie away from her work as a kitchenmouse, and I believe it has something to do with a certain Abbey Warrior named Martin!

I will conclude this entry for the morning. Old Brother Methuselah and Mr. Churchmouse call me. Ha, Leslie and I are of the selfsame fabric. She would make a fine Recorder someday, for all her great interest. I hope Gringle isn't too hard on her for being late this morning.

Now, on to my breakfast and a good book.

Lucas, Brother and Recorder of Redwall Abbey in Mossflower Country.

.

Sister Polly had just gotten up and was overseeing the washing and dressing of the Dibbuns when Sister Sara burst into the dormitory. "Is Leslie in here?" she asked, out of breath. "Tell me she's here. She's got to be. She's nowhere else, I know, I've searched everywhere and she's nowhere to be found. I checked my dormitory and she wasn't in her bed all night, and she's--"

"Calm down, Sara, come sit down," Polly said soothingly. "Leslie's not one to disappear without reason." Sara took a seat gratefully, fanning herself. Polly grabbed Dribber the molebabe with one paw as he was headed out the door and directed him back to the washbasin. "Even if it's to avoid being seen when Friar Gringle needs something done in the kitchens. Have you checked the kitchens? Suppose she's actually there this time."

"I don't remember if I have or not," Sara responded levelly. "I believe I will right now. If she's not down there she'll probably be somewhere around there. Thank you Sister Polly!" she called as she bustled out of the dormitory. Several Dibbuns followed. Polly pursued them, only to be followed by the remainder of the Dibbuns.

"Brilla! Mother Brilla, I need you now!"

.

Friar Gringle eyed Leslie sternly.

"I'm sorry, Friar Gringle, for being late. I know I was first to assist you on kitchen duty this morning." Leslie stared at the floor. "I would be happy to make it up to you by double dish duty, sir." What was she talking about? She would lose half her day and miss most of her lessons with Brother Lucas.

"Very well, young Leslie, I'll 'old ye to your word and trust this won't 'appen again. But come, young Siltburr took your turn, so ye c'n 'elp me know. Check m'breakfast scones, they should be ready t'cool soon."

.

Siltburr the mole sat down to a peaceful breakfast with the early risers in Cavern Hole. He had gotten up early this morning, as had Brother Lucas and a few others (it was, as Siltburr put it, "a h'early koind o' mornin' "), so he had decided to go on to the kitchens and take the first morning shift.

Siltburr was not a "kitchenmole", persay, nor did he have as great an interest in cellar work as Grubo and the other moles did. He just volunteered his time here and there hoping to find an interest somewhere. He enjoyed this and that, but always had a feeling that his "gurt talent" was yet to be found.

He was joined shortly by Sister Sara the Infirmary Keeper. "Gudd mornin' to ee, mizz Surra, do ee sit daown."

"Thank you, young Siltburr, and a pleasant morning to you. I found Leslie at last. How are you this morning?"

Siltburr shrugged. He didn't know Leslie was missing.