Rusvul pushed aside two helpers who were dressing the wound in his side. Pulling himself upright on his javelin, the warrior squirrel glared contemptuously at his son. “What happened? I’ll tell yer wot happened! You were left to guard the Abbey an’ you let yoreself get knocked silly by a couple o’ vermin! Nutwing was slain, aye, an’ the great Redwall tapestry was stolen from the wall, that’s wot happened! Were you playin’ more games, solvin’ puzzles, was it? No, ’twas crackin’ nuts, I see by the shells all over the floor. Well, while you were doin’ that the foebeast got in ’ere, cracked yore nut, murdered an Abbeybird an’ robbed the very symbol of Redwall. Call yoreself a Reguba. Hah!” Quivering with rage, Rusvul snapped his javelin in two pieces and flung them from him, tears of anger glittering in his eyes. “I wish that spear’d gone right through an’ slain me, rather than stand ’ere an’ see the Reguba blood shamed by a son o’ mine. Coward!” Turning his face from Dann, Rusvul limped off, out to the orchard to sit and brood while he tended his own injury.

Brother Melilot put a paw about Dann, shaking his head in disgust at Rusvul’s outburst. “How could a creature say that about his own son?”

Dann tried to keep his face straight as tears poured unchecked down his cheeks. Janglur hurried across and threw a comforting paw around the young squirrel’s shoulder.

“Shush now, Dann mate, yore dad didn’t mean it. You couldn’t ’ave done any more’n you did, all three of yer!”

The Guosim shrew Mayon marched in and threw a salute to Bargle, who was acting as temporary Log a Log. “They left by the east wallgate, Chief. I made shore it was all locked an’ secure. Ahoy there, Dipp! Still alive, eh, mate?”

Dippler smiled sheepishly and held up his battered headgear. “Aye, but they killed this ’elmet. Was there any sign of ’em, Mayon?”

The shrew poured himself a beaker of October Ale and blew off the froth before drinking. “No, not a hair. They’re long gone. All’s quiet out there now, ’cept for mister Florian an’ the others. They’re puttin’ our lost ones t’rest all together, just by the sou’west wallcorner inside the Abbey grounds. ’Tis a sad business, mates, very sad!”

Dippler looked away, scrubbing at his eyes with a spare bandage. “Ah, poor Nutwing. If only we’d been faster . . .”

“You mustn’t blame yourself,” said Mayon. “Three young ones against that evil scum—you didn’t stand a chance. And you’ve heard that Log a Log is gone?”

“The Log a Log was like a father t’me. That ole shrew’ll live fer ever in my memory. Wish I could get me paws on the vermin who slayed ’im. I’d make the scum pay, matey!”