Marianne and Muryet followed Martin's gaze as they had been adjured.
Marianne stepped closer to the tapestry. "He looks as if he's gazin' t' th' right - but I don't see anythin' in particular."
"Neither do I," Muryet admitted, after a long while of silently scanning the wall upon which the tapestry hung, as well as the part of the floor that was beneath it. "Suppose somebeast just painted or dyed those gleams there somehow. But why on earth would anybeast do such a thing to the tapestry of Martin - and who could it be?"
Salome blinked in an effort to clear her vision. God, how her head ached - and, oh, of all the times for the pain to return! "It couldn't be a painting, you two - I won't believe it. Yore not lookin' 'ard enough! Which way did you say he was lookin' again? I'll find wot he's starin' at myself."
Marianne went so far as to kneel upon the floor and feel about with her paws. "I'm lookin' as 'ard as I can, you snippy little beast! He's lookin' t' th' right, Salome - can't you see where I'm searchin'? There's nothin' 'ere that I see yet."
Salome would have lifted her own gaze to the heavens in exasperated despair, if not for the discomfort it would cause. Instead she closed her eyes, having given up hope of seeing, and stretched out her right paw, much to the bewilderment of her companions.
"Salome? Are you. . .are you quite all right?"
Salome's eyes flew open. "I'm fine. It's th' exit! He's lookin' toward th' exit, he's got t' be!"
Marianne frowned. "Th' exit? Why would Martin want t' stare at that?"
Salome began to reply, but the itching of a flea-bite distracted her. She lifted her paw a fraction with the intention of relieving the itch, but it fell short. Of a sudden, she was acutely aware, not only of the pain in her head, but of the exhaustion she felt.
"Salome?" She could make out the outline of Marianne's face, the curve of her bushy tail. "Salome . . .you're all pale. Yore eyelids are flickerin'. Come on, we've got t' get you lyin' down."
It was as if all of Salome's body had been drained of its strength, rendered useless. She opened her mouth, but closed it a moment later, for the pain had begun to spread from her temples to her jaws. It was a flame - an awful, angry flame - setting her jaws ablaze as if they were wooden hinges.
Muryet's face appeared against the grey-black background of her vision. "She can't push the chair, Marianne."
"Then we'll 'ave t' push her." Marianne was small-voiced, frightened. "Salome! Salome, can you 'ear me? . . . She won't talk - can't talk. Oh, Muryet, suppose she . . ."
Her voice faded, and Salome heard nothing more after that.
ooooOooooOooooooOoooooo
"Salome's fainted." Marianne withdrew her paw from beneath Salome's chin, allowing her head to fall "An' I don't know whether she's fainted 'cos she was in so much pain, or . . . or . . . Oh! I can't believe wot an idiot I was t' 'ave brought her out 'ere. We've got t' get her back t' th' Infirmary an' fast; God knows whether she's all right. Come along, Muryet."
The young maids were startled by the sound of flying footpaws. A moment later, Sister Jane appeared, candlestick in paw.
"That will do, Marianne! I am not entirely certain I know what you are doing, but you've all done more than enough of it for one night. All of you ought to have been in bed long ago. I will wheel Salome to the infirmary and wake Sister Bethelle."
Marianne cringed inwardly; she dreaded nothing more than the thought of waking and involving Sister Bethelle, who would be more than a little displeased, but she was too afraid for Salome's sake to protest. In a sense, she was relieved, for an older, wiser beast had taken command now, and if an older creature must be involved, it was just as well that it was Sister Jane, whose quiet voice and soothing words had the power to calm most creatures at least a little. Only Sister Jane and Abbess Elinor could dissuade or forcefully prevent Sister Bethelle from throttling her tonight.
"Is she all right, Sister Jane?"
Sister Jane grasped the pushing handles on the wheelchair. "I believe she will be, Marianne, but you know that she is not well and I can't be certain." Marianne paled. "Go and report to the Friar now, while I take her to her bed."
With a shaking paw, Marianne reached for the handles. "Please, Sister Jane, may I push her? I'll be gentle, I promise."
After a moment, Sister Jane moved aside, surrendering the wheelchair to her. "Very well. Go slowly, little one, and be careful of her head."
Going over to Muryet's side, then, she rested a paw upon her shoulder.
"Come with me, my dear," she said softly. "You may sleep in the Library, only so that you won't be alone, but you must not touch any of the books or scrolls. I'm in the midst of the search for more information about Brother Nathaniel and I cannot afford to misplace anything. Do you understand?"
"No. . . I don't understand. You won't give me even one book to read?"
"I will give you a storybook from the shelf, then, and you may read for half an hour -"
"I'm too old for storybooks; I want to read battle records!"
" - But please, little one, no more arguing and no interfering with the search. I'm in more need of peace and quiet than I am of assistance. Before the end of the hour, we will blow the lamp out and lie down."
"I can't sleep, Sister Jane."
"You must try. You can't lie awake all night with a book, little one; it isn't healthy."
"I lie awake with books almost every night." Muryet's voice began to break. "Please, Sister Jane - I can't sleep. Let me read, or sit up with me."
Sister Jane brought Muryet closer to her. "I will sit up with you for a quarter of an hour and no more. The Abbeybeasts need for me to be well-rested so that I can begin the search tomorrow.
"My dear, I know that you're afraid for Salome. You feel as if you would deserve the blame if something should happen to her. And I know your feelings about little Fainlie. You must believe me, you are not the only creature who feels this way.
"But you are not helping Salome, or any of the creatures in Redwall, by panicking, arguing with me and insisting on having your own way." For the second time that night, Muryet flinched. "It would be far more helpful for you to calm down, cooperate with me, and, in the morning, instead of fleeing to the gatehouse, leave your shell and do something kind for another creature, like visiting Salome or some of the other sickbeasts, just as they all wanted to visit you when you fell ill. Wouldn't you agree?"
Muryet fell silent. It was clear that Sister Jane had given her food for thought.
As they made their way down the Hall, paws intertwined, Marianne allowed herself to fall behind a little for just a moment, for, in spite of Salome's state, she could not help but to glance again at the tapestry, at those warm, kindly grey eyes, those strange white gleams that had never been there till tonight.
Why were they there? What did they mean? Did it matter at all, or had they merely been the work of some creature who had longed to see life and light in Martin's eyes?
Sister Jane, hearing the slowing down of the wheels, paused, bringing Muryet to a halt. "What's the matter, Marianne?"
Wordlessly, Muryet directed her attention to the tapestry.
"Oh, my. I see." Gently, Sister Jane pried her paw out of Muryet's grasp, freeing herself to get a closer look.
"Hurry to the infirmary, Marianne. I will look into this."
Marianne did as she was bidden, leaving the tapestry to Sister Jane and Muryet.
Sister Jane ran a tender, caressing paw over the face of Martin, as if he were alive and capable of feeling and had truly been harmed. "Who would vandalize him in this way? Oh, what will Abbess Elinor think when she sees it? Muryet, come and help me. Do you know of any way this dye might be washed away before she sees it?"
Muryet scarcely heard the Sister. Once again, she had wandered off in the direction in which Martin seemed to be gazing - farther than she had gone before.
She had come to the end of the tapestry, when, unexpectedly, without warning, she sank to her knees.
Sister Jane appeared behind her. "What is it, little one?"
Muryet looked up at her.
"It isn't dye, Sister Jane - any more than these black markings are coal."
Sister Jane narrowed her eyes. "Black markings?"
She knelt beside her, and, realizing that she was staring at the floorstones, began to study them as well. Yes - on each stone tile there was a marking, faint though it was.
"Why, they're letters!"
Muryet read aloud.
"At last, you've come to visit Martin!
Well, you've come before
But never knew that in this cloth
There is a hidden door.
"The beast may open it who comes,
If not with faith and prayer,
Then without pride and without scorn
For him who stands guard there.
"Nobeast has e'er been favoured by him
Who did any less
And, now that pride's been cast aside
The doubter will be blessed.
"Only when you cure the black plague
Will your quest be fulfilled
But most of the Abbey will survive
If the Walking Death is killed.
"So cross the lawn, if you are bold,
Before the break of day
Perhaps you'll live for many more
If you do as I say.
"Outside of the Abbey
Wash without delay
You might be heard, so be on guard
I will show you the way.
"Two hundred paces from the gates
Go slowly, mark the trees
In the belly of the alder
You will find your enemies.
"Great-hearted creature of the X
You of the restless paws
Your strengths unlocked my door for you
Remember, then, your flaws.
"Keep your foes cornered well
Strike with all of your power
Go quickly now, lest they attack
Before the dawn's first hour.
"Remember, you have one chance, though
To see another age -
You must not throw yourself to madness
Must control your rage."
Muryet leapt to her feet; Sister Jane, having anticipated this move, checked her with a restraining paw.
"Stop it! Let me go! I've got to go outdoors - find the alder - the enemy is in its belly, you saw what it said. Sister Jane, please, let me go!"
"Muryet! Be still!" For the first time, Sister Jane spoke sharply; Muryet was startled into compliance. "You hardly understand a word of what was written here. Are you a creature of the X? Are you a doubter? Do you suffer from rage, or have restless paws?"
Muryet could provide no answer to any of this. Sister Jane released her.
"I must send for Skipper and the Abbess. I want you to send for Salome's brother, Master Samuel. Take a cheese knife with you, and, if he does not respond to knocking, try hard to pick the lock. Skipper will know how to pick it if you fail, but an attempt must be made as soon as possible. Hurry, little one!"