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Back Mattimeo
Chapters (64)
  1. CAPTURED!
  2. Other Books
  3. Title Page
  4. Map
  5. Introduction
  6. BOOK ONE
  7. 1
  8. 2
  9. 3
  10. 4
  11. 5
  12. 6
  13. 7
  14. 8
  15. 9
  16. 10
  17. 11
  18. 12
  19. 13
  20. 14
  21. 15
  22. 16
  23. 17
  24. 18
  25. 19
  26. 20
  27. 21
  28. 22
  29. 23
  30. 24
  31. 25
  32. BOOK TWO
  33. 26
  34. 27
  35. 28
  36. 29
  37. 30
  38. 31
  39. 32
  40. 33
  41. 34
  42. 35
  43. 36
  44. 37
  45. BOOK THREE
  46. 38
  47. 39
  48. 40
  49. 41
  50. 42
  51. 43
  52. 44
  53. 45
  54. 46
  55. 47
  56. 48
  57. 49
  58. 50
  59. 51
  60. 52
  61. 53
  62. 54
  63. 55
  64. What’s next onyour reading list?

Matthias took the weapon from his son. With one paw he hefted it, then swung it aloft. Twirling it, whirling it, until the air sang with the thrum of the deadly, wonderful blade. Up, down and around it swung, coming within a hair’s-breadth of Mattimeo’s head. Turning, Matthias snicked a stalk from an apple, sliced the loaf without touching the table and almost carelessly flicked the rind from the cheese. Finally Matthias gave the sword a powerful twist into the warrior’s salute, bringing the blade to rest with its point quivering in the floor.

Admiration for the Warrior of Redwall danced in his son’s eyes. Matthias could not help smiling briefly.

“One day you will be the one who takes my place, son. You will grow big and strong enough to wield the sword, and I will train you to use it like a real warrior. But it is only a sword, Mattimeo. It does not make you a warrior merely because you carry it. Weapons may be carried by creatures who are evil, dishonest, violent or lazy. The true Warrior is good, gentle and honest. His bravery comes from within himself; he learns to conquer his own fears and misdeeds. Do you understand me?”

Mattimeo nodded. Matthias grew stern once more.

“Good, I am glad you do. I will not whack you. I have never laid a paw on you yet and I do not intend starting now. However, you attacked little Vitch and you must pay for that, one way or another. At first I thought I should refuse you permission to attend the celebrations. . . .”

Matthias watched the shock and disbelief on his son’s face before continuing.

“But I have decided that you may go, providing you run straightaway to the kitchens. There you will ask Friar Hugo to allot you double the tasks he gave to Vitch yesterday. When you have finished working for the Friar, you will offer to help your mother with the gathering of flowers until such time as she decides to free you of your task. Is that clear?”

Mattimeo’s face was a picture of disbelief. He, the son of the Redwall Warrior, working! Never before had he been asked, much less ordered, to carry out Abbey tasks. The young mouse considered himself the inheritor of his father’s sword and duties. As such, he was firmly convinced that he was above any type of pan-scrubbing or daisy-gathering. Even Constance knew that. She had sentenced Vitch to hard labour, but even she did not dare tell the future Champion to dirty his paws with menial chores. Besides, Vitch would be finished with his tasks by now. He could stand about and gloat at the sight of his enemy ordered to perform double the work and more.