Chickenhound opened his eyes. He was in a strange bed. The last thing he remembered was getting stabbed by the rats.
"Oh, my neck! What is this place? Where am I?" he groaned.
The Abbot's face appeared before him. "You are in the infirmary at Redwall Abbey, my son," he said.
"What happened to my mother?" the young fox wanted to know.
"I'm afraid she's dead," the Abbot said. "The rats stabbed her with their spears. They stabbed you too, but you were only wounded. When they left, we carried you inside. As yet I do not know the full extent of your injuries. When you have rested, my friends will cleanse you and dress your wounds."
Basil came into the room. "How's our patient doing?" he asked.
Chickenhound shot Basil a murderous glare. "Wait! I remember now! You betrayed my mother to the rats!"
"I'm awfully sorry about that, old chap," said Basil. "I wasn't thinking too clearly."
Chickenhound was so mad he couldn't speak. He would have gotten up and killed the hare right then and there, but he could barely move.
"Close your eyes now, and try to get some rest," the Abbot said. He and Basil turned off the light and left.
Chickenhound lay there in the bed, stewing. I'll show them, he thought. They'll learn they can't outfox a fox.
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That night, Matthias and Twilight went up on the wall. Above the gatehouse, they found an indentation in the stone that was the exact same size as Martin's shield.
"Let's set it in here," Matthias said. He fitted the shield into the hole.
The moonlight streamed down and reflected off the shield. The beam of light shone straight at the weather vane on top of the Abbey roof.
"The north! The north!" Twilight shouted. "It's the weather vane arm that points north! That's where the sword must be!"