“So he does. We never used words like that afore we joined up with mister Florian’s troop. We were brought up t’be gentlebeasts.”

Sister Sloey shook her paw reprovingly at the bewildered hare. “Double shame on you, sir, for teaching these poor creatures dreadful things. What would their mother say if she could hear them?”

Gathering his cloak about him, Florian strode off in a huff toward the dormitory stairs. He turned and paused on the bottom step, his voice quavering with emotion. “Culture is wasted upon such as you. I am injured, marm, deeply and sorely injured. I bid you goodnight!”

He tripped upon his coat hem and fell flat on the stone stairs. The Redwallers were in hoots of laughter as Runktipp called out, “Which is the most deeply injured, sir, yore feelin’s or yore bottom?”

Skipper of otters’ face was almost purple. The hedgehog had made the remark as Skipper was downing a beaker of cider, and now he spluttered and choked as he tried to stop laughing. Rusvul pounded his back. “I think we’d all be better goin’ to bed afore anybeast else injures theirselves too deeply!”

Badgermum Cregga never slept in bed, but propped herself up with pillows on the armchair in her room. Redwall Abbey was peaceful and quiet after the feast and entertainment, but the blind badger could not prevent her thoughts from straying. With Marlfoxes and water rats roaming Mossflower, how long was the peace and quiet destined to last?

*

Janglur and Rusvul, like the instinctive warriors they were, were light sleepers, and both squirrels were up and about in the hour before dawn. They met in the kitchens, where Janglur found his friend lifting a few hot scones from under the noses of three slumbering night cooks. Rusvul was armed with his favorite short javelin, which he tipped toward Janglur, who crept over to join him.

“G’mornin’, mate. What’re you up to?”

Janglur quietly lifted a small flask of elderflower cordial from the stone cooling cupboard. “Just a feelin’ I had. Thought I’d take a bite o’ breakfast an’ a stroll around the grounds, y’know, a sort o’ patrol.”

Rusvul added a few scones to the ones he already had stowed in a clean napkin. He winked knowingly. “Shows how a warrior thinks, eh? I had exactly the same idea. Well, I’ve got the scones an’ you’ve got the cordial, so what are we waitin’ for?”

The three night cooks, who were taking an early nap on a heap of empty sacks, slept on, unaware that the squirrels had been and gone.

Starting at the gatehouse Janglur checked the main gate bars, ensuring the heavy oak bolsters were secure in their slots. He joined Rusvul at the gatehouse window. “Main gates well locked. All quiet here?”