Matthias nodded. “As you wish, Log-a-Log. Anyhow, I’ve no desire to be caught in the middle of a shrew argument. I’ve seen ’em before. But please don’t let us be the cause of your trouble. You freed us from the cave and we are thankful for that. We can carry on our hunt alone, old friend.”

The Guosim leader’s eyes were bright and fierce. “Matthias, we are going with you, and that is final. Mossflower needs to be kept free of evil if woodland families are to live in peace. It is no less than our duty to help. As for the coming trouble, you leave that to me.” Log-a-Log took out a round black stone from his sling pouch and stood up. A smile hovered about his face momentarily. “Besides, life’s not much fun to a shrew without trouble.”

*   *   *

The slavers caught up with the main party two hours after nightfall. Mattimeo and his friends found themselves locked and manacled back on to the slave line. They slumped down wearily, tired and sore and hungry.

“None for you escapers,” little Vitch sniggered evilly as he fed the other slaves. “Slagar said so. A taste of real hunger’ll make you a bit more obedient. Slagar says that when he’s got a bit more time he’s going to deal with each of you personally, especially you, little Redwall pet. Heeheehee.”

Mattimeo bared his teeth and went into a crouch. Vitch hurriedly backed off and left them alone.

They looked around, trying to take stock of their surroundings in the dark of night. One thing was obvious: they were camped in the foothills of an immense cliff range. The huge high plateau reared up behind them, blocking out the night-time sky. Sam craned his neck backwards as he gazed up.

“I wonder how we’re supposed to get up there?”

Jube lay back, closing his eyes. “We’ll find out tomorrow, on an empty stomach too.”

They lay down to sleep, but Mattimeo sat up, staring in the direction of Slagar. Tess watched him. He was different, older, tougher and something else she could not quite put her paw on.

“Mattimeo, what is it?” she asked. “You’ve changed since we were recaptured.”

The young mouse patted Tess’s paw. “It’s nothing, Tess. Go to sleep. I’m sorry I got angry at Tim today. In fact, I’m sorry for a lot of things. Perhaps you were right when you said that I should be more like my father. Maybe it’s a bit too late now, but I’m certainly going to try. From now on Redwall must live on through Martin, my father and me. I was born the son of the Redwall Warrior, sword or no sword, and that is what I intend to be, to myself, and most of all to you and to my friends.”