Foremole and Constance were whispering together in a corner when the Abbot banged a wooden bowl upon the tabletop.

“Quiet. Quiet, please! Well, eight seasons of peace since the Great War and now one summer strewn with trouble. First the fox and his band, now this!”

Several voices called out.

“If only Matthias were here!”

“Yes, he’d know what to do!”

“Matthias, Basil and Jess would soon sort those birds out!”

Whump!

Constance’s heavy paw shook the table. “Silence, listen to your Abbot!” she ordered.

Foremole raised a paw. “’scuse oi, me an moi moles got wurk t’do. May us be ’scused, zurr?”

The Abbot looked over the top of his spectacles. “Certainly, Foremole. Now, the rest of you listen to me. Wherever Matthias is now, or Jess Squirrel, or Basil, I’m sure they would wish us to get on with this problem and help ourselves.”

There was a murmur of agreement.

Abbot Mordalfus continued his address:

“Thank you. I must say a word regarding Sister May. What she did tonight was very brave—”

“Aye ’twas that,” Ambrose Spike piped up. “Maybe she’s after our Warrior’s job instead of mindin’ that old infirmary.”

Sister May blushed to her whiskertips. “Oh, what a naughty thing to say, Mr. Spike!”

When order was restored, the Abbot continued:

“Perhaps Ambrose is right, maybe we do need a Warrior in a situation like this. Can anyone suggest a suitable candidate?”

The call was unanimous:

“Constance, Constance!”

The badger stood up. “First, I suggest you all bed down here for the night. It doesn’t look too safe up in the dormitories at the moment. If you must leave Cavern Hole, let Winifred or Ambrose know. Do not wander about alone, especially out in the open. I will sleep on the steps between here and Great Hall tonight. Tomorrow we’ll decide what to do about the raven and his crew.”

There was a great bustle of activity. Some of the infants thought it great fun to be sleeping in Cavern Hole and they made blanket tents from the edge of the table to the floor.

Constance sat on the steps with the Abbot and Ambrose.

“What do you make of all this, Constance?”

“I’m at a bit of a loss to say, Abbot. They must have been watching the Abbey, because they wouldn’t have found it so easy to occupy the roofspaces with Queen Warbeak and all her warriors at home.”

“Aye, now it’s up to us to make ’em see the error of their ways and send ’em packin’, gurt cheeky birds.”

*   *   *

In the roofspace, General Ironbeak held a conference with Mangiz.

“Krah! The big stripedog is dangerous, Ironbeak.”

“The hedgepig and the waterhound too. We underestimated these earthcrawlers, Mangiz. They will have to be taught a lesson.”

“Aye, tomorrow will be their dying day,” vowed the crow. “Oh, you are bleeding, my General.”