CHAPTER EIGHTY-THREE

"Something's not right here."

Clewiston, Sodexo and Log-a-Log, the other leaders of their now-united rescue expedition, looked to Alexander as he voiced these concerns. "Yah, I'm rather feelin' it m'self," the Long Patrol commander agreed, "but all the bloomin' signs say we're on the right track, so wot else can we do?"

"I know, but it still doesn't make sense. We know they have to be making for the pass over the mountains, because it would simply be too far to go around them. So why are they taking Latura off to the south, away from where they must go? And why did they split their forces, assigning only two Gawtrybe to escort her while the majority turned slightly to the north? None of it adds up."

"Dunno what y' want us t' do about it," Log-a-Log replied. "We were close 'nuff t' see 'em when they went their separate ways, an' we saw 'em bearin' Lattie off to th' south with our own eyes."

"Too true," Sergeant Peppertail affirmed. "An' wot's more, the tracks we're followin' now show two squirrels an' a rat, clear as day." He looked to the sky and the deepening dusk all around them. "Or as clear as day can be at day's end, don'tcha know."

"This spring twilight's not going to last long enuff for wot we need," said Clewiston. "I'd hoped we'd overtake those rotters before nightfall, but they seem to've doubled their pace ever since just the two of 'em took charge of Lattie. Could be they're runnin' blind outta panic, which might explain why nothing they're doing's makin' any sense. Makes as much sense as anything, I s'pose. Although, it could be I was on th' bally mark earlier when I speculated whether Urthblood might've found a second way through the mountains. Mebbe that's wot they're makin' for now, an' they timed it all along to reach it under cover of dark to give us the slip."

"Or it could be some kind of trap," Sodexo rumbled in rumination. "From what I've heard of this badger, he may have planned for exactly that."

"Normally, I'd be worried about the other four Gawtrybe circling back around for some kind of ambush," said Alex, "but at least we know that's not any kind of real threat now."

Log-a-Log gave a gruff chuckle. "Think they've found out yet?"

"Could be." Clewiston pursed his lips. "Might help explain why they're actin' the way they are now, wot? An' if not, then they're in for a jolly rude awakenin' up ahead, aren't they?"

A sudden high-pitched skreeing and chittering from the dimming sky overhead interrupted their conversation as dozens of streaking forms appeared as darting, twilit silhouettes against the silvery heavens.

"RedwallRedwallRedwall!"

"Well, whaddya know!" Log-a-Log exulted. "Those feathery scrappers from Warbeak Loft've decided to join our liddle stroll after all! Sure took 'em long 'nuff - if they'd been any later, it woulda been too dark fer 'em t' fly!"

"Yes, it is almost the hour for owls and foxes," Sodexo concurred.

Alex was too pleased to grouse. "This should help us out immensely. Now we'll have eyes and ears able to scout farther and faster ahead than even the Long Patrol, and maybe provide answers to some of these nagging questions."

Alex didn't even have to tell this to the birds; without so much as landing a single sparrow to rendezvous with the ground beasts, they seemed to sense their immediate purpose, some flapping ahead toward the two squirrels and their rat prisoner while others turned north in pursuit of the other four Gawtrybe.

"Spiffin' show, I say," the Colonel declared. "Let's see those bushtailed treejumpers try'n pull anything on us now that we've got peepers in the sky spyin' down on 'em from above!"

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Delk and Brisson were as surprised as anybeast by the unheralded twilight appearance of the Sparra, skimming past just over their heads in an almost playful manner.

"LattieRatty, LattieRatty, wecome, foryou, rescuesoon, rescuesoon!"

Thinking quickly for one of the few times in his life, Palter threw his head back and shouted out, "I ain't Lattie! It's a trick, a trick! Warn th' Redwallers, warn - " And that was all he got out before Delk clobbered him hard with a sturdy yew bow across the skull, sending Palter sprawling to the ground.

But it was enough. The Sparra made one last low pass to more fully inspect this rat dressed in Latura's dress who claimed not to be that rat, and then they wheeled around to swoop away again and carry Palter's truncated warning to the rescue party.

"Looks like this ruse is up," said Delk.

"Not if I can help it," Brisson growled, his cold gaze locked on the retreating winged shapes as he reached over his shoulder for his quiver.

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Matowick's main group also found themselves being shadowed by the sparrows, although in their case the birds stayed higher, seeing no need to engage the four Gawtrybe who marched alone with no rat prisoner.

"Well, that's a turn for the worse," Nixalis assessed. "I was starting to think we'd seen the last of them. Wouldn't expect to see them out and about so close to nightfall."

"No," Matowick agree, "nobeast would, would they? And nobird either. A stroke of tactical brilliance on their part - wait until most of our gulls had flown down for the night, so that they could foray out from the Abbey unchallenged and mostly unseen in order to meet up with the rest of the rescue party. They've still got enough light left to get in some useful scouting, and they can be airborne again from their camp at first light to let their landbound comrades know right where we are, and whether we've pushed on through the night. Worst of all, if they range too far ahead they might spot Klystra and Latura, and then they'll know what we're all about. Truly an unfavorable turn of events."

"Then we'd better just stop them, hadn't we?" Nixalis snapped the string onto his bow and unlatched the hinged lid of his quiver.

"I don't know if we're ready for such measures yet, Nix," Matowick cautioned. "We've still got a lot of the Plains to cross, and if we spill blood so soon ... "

"Think I should be able to wing one or two of them in the wings, sir, so to speak. Nothing lethal, just enough to scare 'em off and make them think twice about tailing us. As you say, we've still got a lot left to - UGH! What the fur?!"

The others stiffened to attention at their companion's alarmed outburst. "What is it, Nix?" Matowick asked.

Nixalis held out the shaft he'd withdrawn; even though he spread his digits wide, the feathered end of the arrow clung to his paw seemingly of its own accord. "It's all sticky! Somebeast has gummed up the guide feathers!" Flinging the corrupted projectile to the ground, he sniffed and then licked at his tacky paw. "Honey! It's been coated with honey!"

"Bet I know where that came from," Matowick muttered. "As if it's not enough that that badger's joined their pursuit of us, his honey's plaguing us too!"

Flaquer found this all quite funny, in his tired state. "How's it taste, Nix?"

Nixalis reached into his quiver for another arrow, then another, and more after that, all with the same result. "My whole quiver's been sabotaged! Not a single usable shaft left - all ruined!"

The fourth squirrel of their group, Selen, snickered. "Well, that's a sweet jam to be stuck in!"

"Not jam," Flaquer corrected. "Honey, 'member?"

Matowick, reaching for his own quiver, saw nothing amusing about the situation. "In case you yucksters had forgotten, all our weapons were being kept in the same place while we were at Redwall. Which might well mean ... " Dipping into his own supply of shafts, he found his personal arsenal similarly stickily tainted. "You two, check yours - although I'm not holding out any hope it'll be any different."

Sure enough, all four quivers had been targeted, leaving them without a single flight-worthy arrow between them ... and Flaquer and Selen weren't laughing now.

"Now that's some treachery for you!" Nixalis ground out between clenched teeth. "Those arrows were the only thing holding us equal to the Redwallers' larger force. We've been effectively disarmed! With just our blades, we won't stand a chance against the Long Patrol, never mind a Badger Lord and the Guosim. If that gang went through Choock's shrews as effortlessly as they did, they'll be done with us in an eyeblink and a tail's shake!"

"Then we don't let them catch up to us," said Matowick. "I'd thought all along we might have to push on through the night, but now we've no choice in the matter. Hopefully Captain Saugus will show up soon to act as our night eyes, but even if he doesn't, we'll have to keep going on our own. And if we're overtaken in spite of our best efforts, it will be up to Altidor and Klystra to get our target to Salamandastron however they can."

"What about Delk and Briss?" Nixalis wondered. "Do you think their quivers were gummed up too?"

"Do you doubt it for a moment? And as soon as they discover it for themselves, they'll know to ditch the decoy and double their speed to try to rejoin us; that's where we could also use Saugus's help. If we can reunify and put some good distance between us and the Redwallers, we might yet be able to win this race."

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Rafter came flapping down from the darkening sky to land before the questors, his state clearly agitated.

"Changecourse, changecourse! Youchase wrongrat, wrongrat!"

"Huh?" Clewiston drew back, ears crossed in consternation. "Wot th' bloomin' brushswallows do you mean? We're goin' after the blighters who've got Latura."

"Right ho," Peppertail backed up his Colonel, "we saw 'em with our own peepers, an' the bally tracks say we're followin' the ones who've got Lattie."

"Wrongbeasts, wrongbeasts!" the Sparra insisted. "Gawtrybe take two rats fromAbbey. You chase wrongrat now, dressed in Lattydress! Tricktricktrick!"

The expedition leaders looked at each other in surprised understanding. "Two rats?" Log-a-Log murmured. "Never woulda figgered on that. Don't that beat all?"

"Then who's the rat we're chasin' now?" Clewiston asked.

"Shrimpyrat, measlyrat, littlewhinger, from Lattievillage. Gawtrybe make tworats switchclothes, looksame from faroff! Tricktricktrick!"

"Still don't get it," Peppertail grunted. "If we're chasin' the wrong flippin' rodent, then where is Lattie? We saw 'em split up, an' the group who headed north was just four squirrels, with no rats 'mongst them. We even followed their tracks for a bit just to make sure, an' unless they're carryin' her, she's not with 'em."

"Notknow, notknow." Rafter gave a head-shaking, wing-wriggling shrug. "NoLattie insight, anywhere. Toodark flyabout now, somewhere hidden maybe. Find LattieRatty in mornsun!"

"Wot a revoltin' development." Peppertail looked to Clewiston. "Wot now, sah?"

"Wot I should've done long before now, Sergeant. Take Pumphrey an' Buckalew out on a fast run with you to where those villains have their blinkin' impostor, check it out to make sure it's really not Lattie, then take him away from 'em an' bring him back here, assumin' they've not slain him already. We've been so fixated on meetin' our foe with our full strength, thinkin' we had all th' time in th' bally world to catch up with 'em out here on the Plains ... if only I'd sent ahead a patrol group soon as those two split off from the rest, we'd already have known about this masquerade, an' not lost this time. Wotever's goin' on here, that other rat'll have a much clearer notion 'bout things than we do. Maybe he can even tell us where they've got Lattie stashed."

"What do we do in the meantime?" Alex gazed north. "This has led us so far astray, we'll have to backtrack quite some way just to pick up the trail of the other four. We'd never be able to do it before full dark."

"Wouldn't wanna try'n push on under cover of night anyways," said Clewiston, watching as Peppertail's trio sped off after the two Gawtrybe and their decoy. "After hearin' 'bout this swaggerin' subterfuge, no tellin' wot else they might try, or wot we might blunder into. For all we jolly know, that foursome to the north might not lead us to Lattie either. Could be they passed her off to somebeast else of Urthblood's who was lyin' in wait out here - some moles who pulled her down into an underground hideaway, or something like that. No, we'll make camp right here where we are, post watches 'til morn to guard against an ambush, an' hope that wotever we hear from Lattie's friend an' wotever our Sparra scouts can spy out for us come dawn will be enuff to set us on th' right path again - an' that we'll still be in a position to do something about any of this."

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"So, um, where will I be sleeping tonight?"

It was hardly the most awkward question posed - or the most awkward moment shared - over dinner in Great Hall that evening. But it clearly weighed uppermost on Geoff's mind now at meal's end, as he pushed away his empty dessert plate and looked to Vanessa at the head seat.

"I'm afraid Latura's family and friends are still occupying the gatehouse, so that won't be an option. But Arlyn has made himself right at home on one of the Infirmary beds these recent evenings. And if it's good enough for one former Abbot, it ought to be good enough for two, shouldn't it?"

Geoff bristled a bit under his habit, finding this the tenderest of subjects where he was concerned. "If you please, Vanessa, I would ask that you go lightly with the use of the term 'former Abbot.' It's not like I've retired from my responsibilities. I would say that I'm still getting used to this new state of affairs, except I'm not entirely sure just what the current state of affairs is."

"I realize and appreciate that the present situation is rather ... unwieldy. When things have settled down a bit, then we can formalize the power-sharing arrangements for the longer term. Until then, I'm afraid I must claim sole possession of the Abbess's chair, and assert my authority as Redwall's voice of leadership."

After the Infirmary incident of that afternoon, nobeast at the head table - least of all the violence-shy, unassuming deposed Abbot - was about to argue or question Vanessa's authority. The sleeping arrangements, however, were quite another matter.

"When things settle down?" Geoff threw back at her. "And when, pray tell, will that be? When Latura has been returned to Redwall - or our rescuers return empty-pawed, whichever the case may be? When the Gawtrybe drop their siege of our home, which they show no sign of contemplating, this season or next? When Urthblood gives up on the gathering of all rats from Mossflower to send them off to Tratton, deciding it's no longer worth the trouble? Or maybe when he dies and his policies die along with him? Which may well be a generation or two after all of us here are in our own graves from old age, considering how long badgers can live ... "

"Geoff, you're being rather overdramatic, I think."

"Is he?" interjected Maura, who'd given up her usual seat at the children's table in order to keep a closer eye on the Abbess. "It now appears our rescue party stands an excellent chance of bringing Latura back to Redwall - especially now that our Sparra have joined their crusade, even if it was against your wishes. Will war come to Redwall as a result? Will Urthblood not rest until he has her? You yourself asserted as much at our council today. How will this ever be settled, if he will stop at nothing to get her?"

Vanessa serenely folded her paws on the table before her. "Sometimes, Maura, you just have to have faith that all will work out for the best."

"The best for whom?" Winokur jumped in from Geoff's other side; like Maura, he'd given up his place where he would have preferred to be seated - in his case, with Latura's family and fellow villagers - to monitor his returned Abbess more closely. "Certainly not for Latura - not if you have your way."

Vanessa fixed him with an unrepentant gaze. "You made your feelings on this matter quite apparent down in Cavern Hole earlier. But faith is no small thing. Do you have faith in me, Winokur?"

"I had faith in the Abbess Vanessa I used to know, the one who would put herself in harm's way if it might keep others from harm. Sadly, I do not see her at this table."

"Your feelings are duly noted. Nevertheless, this situation is what it is, and all our wishing for it to be otherwise will not make it so."

"Speaking of the situation - and getting back to the one more immediately at paw - I still haven't heard where I'm supposed to sleep tonight, or from now on," Geoff pressed. "I can't be put out of my present bedchamber - all my clothes and things are in there!"

Vanessa raised an eyebrow at him, and even Maura and Winokur joined in with bemused glances. "Your clothes? But all you wear are brown habits, and they're all the same."

"And sandals! Don't forget the sandals!"

"I find it telling that I also discovered in your wardrobe several changes of habits in my preferred color of green, and in my size, too."

Geoff's gaze fell to his paws. "Maybe that's because I never gave up hope that they would someday be needed again. Although I must agree with Winokur, in that your return to us has hardly taken the shape or direction any of us would have predicted - or necessarily hoped for." His eyes rose to meet hers again. "And that was most improper, I'll have you know, going into my private sanctum and riffling through my belongings like that!"

"Perhaps there was still a bit of the mischievous imp in me when I did that. But you all must also concede, would any of you have taken me seriously as Abbess again were I not wearing these robes?" Vanessa gave a dismissive shrug. "Very well. If you feel it would pose too much of a hardship for you to switch quarters, keep to the bedchamber you've been using, and I'll keep to mine. But the study beyond your bedroom door is now my office, until further notice."

Geoff seemed unsure how to react to this edict, winning what he'd directly agitated for only to have his diminished status further emphasized. "Erm, thank you, uh, Nessa ... "

"You've proven very good this day at throwing your weight around," Maura said to her, "considering you weren't even in your right mind as recently as this morning. Or were you just pretending this morning? Or has it been even longer?"

"I really couldn't say, Maura. The time before Latura is all rather jumbled for me. It's not something I prefer to dwell upon."

"But Latura was with us for a long time," Winokur pointed out. "Many days out of this season. Have you been pretending to be addle-brained all this time?"

"No. Everything came fully clear only when she touched me."

"Was that before or after all the elaborate pranks you and the little terror squad hatched for this morning?"

"I don't know what you're getting at, Maura."

"I'm guessing you do, Nessa."

"If her touching you was all it took to restore you," Winokur asked, "why did you go to such lengths to avoid Latura until today?"

"That should be obvious: Such things happen when they are meant to happen. Not before, and not after."

The otter Recorder studied her hard, just as he had all throughout the meal, then nodded across Great Hall, toward the Tapestry. "And what does Martin think about all of this?"

"I should think that was abundantly clear by now."

"Clear as murk," Maura muttered.

"And does Latura's touch also account for how a once-benevolent Abbess can now slay multiple foebeasts like a steel-hearted warrior?"

Vanessa pushed back her chair and rose. "You - " she pointed and Maura - "and you" - pointing to Winokur, "in my study, right now."

Maura scowled as she grudgingly fell into step behind Vanessa. "Will there be blades involved?" she grumbled with blatant sarcasm.

"Your attempt at humor is neither appreciated nor appropriate."

"Seemed like a pertinent question to me," Winokur said as he brought up the rear.

Vanessa made no further retort or response as she sternly led the badger and otter up the stairs out of Great Hall, every eye in the spacious gathering chamber fixed firmly upon them as they retreated from view.

Seated away at a separate table, Budsock and his friends Droge and Pirkko looked to Cyrus with some concern. "Are Mother Maura and Brother Winokur in trouble?"

"I'm not sure," their substitute teacher and apprentice Recorder replied. "But I'm rather glad it's not me going up there."

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The Long Patrol and Guosim had their camp well-set for the night by the time Peppertail, Pumphrey and Buckalew emerged from the deep twilight escorting Palter between them, the quartet finding its way back to the others by homing in on the single small campfire Clewiston had ordered lit.

The Colonel, Alexander, Sodexo and Log-a-Log strode forward to greet the returning patrol. "Wot news, Sergeant? Did those Northland treewhompers give you much trouble gettin' this chap away from 'em?"

"None at all, sah," Peppertail answered as he presented Palter to his cohorts, "since they'd bolted from th' bally scene long before we arrived. Left this one all alone, just lyin' on th' ground where they'd clobbered him down. Took us awhile to bring him 'round and back up on his paws to the point where he could walk again. We considered goin' after those two ruffians who had him, but by then it was too dark to track clearly, an' we didn't want to walk into somethin' we'd just as soon avoid - or risk losin' this one again, since he was the one we went out there for in th' first place. Figgered it was more important gettin' him back than runnin' after bushtailed night phantoms we'd like as not never find an' who might not be able t' tell us anything more than this one can."

"Good thinkin', Pepp. A seasoned patroller knows his mission an' objectives, an' you showed your seasonin' on this run. So, has he told you anything useful so far?"

"Useful, yah. Encouragin', not so much. 'Fraid Urthblood's crew has one-upped us more than we bargained for once again. But I'll let this ratface here give you the whole dish, since he was there t' witness it for himself."

Clewiston felt his disposition souring even before Palter had uttered a word. "Doesn't sound like anything I'd jolly well want to hear, but it's an offisah's lot to take th' bad with th' good, don'tcha know. So, tell us, what've they done with Lattie?"

"Well, Mr. Hare sir, when they realized you were gainin' on 'em an' bound t' catch up sooner than they thought, an' that you might not've caught on that they'd snatched me 'n' Lattie both, they made us switch clothes. 'Cuz we're kinda th' same size, y' see? Er, um, then they had that big monster bird o' theirs pick her right up in its mighty claws, an' bear her away on up ahead. Lifted her clear off th' ground, an' just flew away with 'er!"

This report evoked considerable consternation from the rescue party. A few of the Sparra, nestled down for the night beyond the ring of shrews, chittered, "Klystrafalcon, Klystrafalcon!"

Clewiston grimaced in the near-dark. "Shoulda known His Bloodiness would have a contingency like this all planned out. Could you make out how far ahead that blinkin' bird bore her?"

Palter shook his head. "Far 'nuff that I couldn't see 'em no more."

"Reckern that overgrown featherbag coulda carried her all th' way to Salamandastron by now?" Log-a-Log wondered, but Alex quickly quashed this speculation.

"I was there at the battle of Salamandastron, up on the plateau when Klystra picked up a hare to cast it from the mountaintop. He had all he could do to bear such a weight for the few moments it took. And while Latura is much lighter than any hare, I'm sure Klystra would not be able to bear her for very long - certainly not over the mountain range."

"Yah," Clewiston grumbled, "but he can bear her far enuff t' frustrate us completely. Even if we do catch up to those Gawtrybe on th' morrow, now we know Lattie likely will still be somewhere up ahead of 'em ... an' if that warriorbird sees us gettin' too close for his downy comfort, he'll just pick her up an' fly her further onward. Blinkin' smart recipe for us never catchin' her. Startin' to make this whole flippin' undertaking look like a fool's errand."

"You ... you can't just give up on 'er!" Palter implored. "Y' can't! She needs yer help! Y' gotta rescue her!"

"Do not fret yourself unnecessarily," Sodexo reassured the rat as he entered the conversation. "This good squirrel has just stated that he does not believe our winged nemesis can bear Latura over the mountain range, and therein lies our hope. If true, then she will be stopped at the foot of the high pass, with nowhere to go. Then we need only overtake the Gawtrybe before they get that far themselves."

"I like your thinkin' there, Lord," Clewiston lauded. "Right optimistic, wot. Question now is, will we be able t' overtake those hooligans if they press on through th' night while we bed down here?"

"We really don't have much choice," Alex conceded. "In the morning, we'll have our Sparra scout ahead to pinpoint the Gawtrybe's current position, just as we'd planned, and then we'll know which direction to go, even if they're far ahead by then. Our birds can also warn us of any obstructions in our path. If we're lucky, they may even be able to locate Latura, so at least we'll know where she is."

"LattieRatty, LattieRatty!" the sparrows chirped, more sedately now that nightfall was almost fully upon them.

Peppertail eyed the modest blaze, crackling warmly against the encroaching darkness. "I say, are you sure it's a good idea havin' that goin', sah? Might be other eyes out there we don't want seein' right where we are."

"Oh, we mostly lit it as a beacon to help you find your way back to us. Once we all settle down for th' night - with watches posted, of course - we'll let it die, an' do without 'til daybreak. It's the food situation I'm more concerned about; you only grabbed enuff on your way out for a couple of days, an' much as I admire Mizzy 'n' Givvy's efforts, they clearly didn't wager on this stripedog an' all these shrewsnouts comin' along on this bally trek."

"Aw, we brought along plenny o' provisions of our own, don'tcha worry," Log-a-Log assured the Colonel. "While yer hare missuses were raidin' Redwall's pantry, we were throwin' t'gether haversacks of our own. If we ration it out sparin'ly, we'll make it stretch fer as long as we gotta!"

"Good show, my good Log! Well then, quick bite o' tuck now, a few sips from our pouches, an' then it's off to slumberland to rest up for tomorrow's leg of this chase!"

Palter looked around by the dancing firelight as the others broke into their supplies, none rushing to offer him any even though he felt certain his stomach's rumbling must surely be heard all the way back to the Abbey. But this talk of sleep had him casting about for the proper accouterments for such activities; even during the march from their home village, he'd never gone so much as a night without at least a blanket.

"Um, what about bedding? Where're th' blankets an' bedrolls?"

Clewiston cast a jaundiced glance the rat's way. "Case you'd not caught on, chappie, we left to come after you in a bit of a rough 'n' tumbled hurry. Be glad we were able t' scare up wot food 'n' drink we did, to ease our bellies an' thirsts. Cushy bivouac belongin's weren't 'xactly high on th' bally list, don'tcha know. But who needs 'em when you've got soft plains grasses for your bed? We're travellin' light, an' sleepin' even lighter. 'Cos speed's the thing now - an' if we've any hope t'all in gettin' Lattie back, it's speed that's going to get th' job done!"

As the hare Colonel turned dismissively away from the rat, Log-a-Log stepped forward to offer Palter a few morsels from his own supplies. Grinning as Palter accepted the food, the shrew chieftain chortled, "Looks like ye'll be sleepin' in that dress! Try not to get grass stains on it! "