“Kacha! I will eat them all as long as they are fat and juicy.”

The magpies’ long tails dipped and jerked as they gobbled the strawberries with swift bobbing head movements. They carried on, comparing berries as they greedily ravaged the well-tended strawberry patch. Suddenly Brightback belched, then he staggered and fell awkwardly.

His two brothers cackled aloud at the sight.

“Chahaha! The red berries are making you too fat to stand, brother. We will load our bags and fly back up.”

Diptail pecked at a berry and missed. His beak struck the soil. Smiling foolishly, he flapped his wings and fell flat.

“Yakko! The red berries are magic. I cannot fly,” he giggled.

Quickbill yawned. He lay in the soil, flapping his wings against it with a silly grin on his face.

“Coohoo! Look at me, I’m flying.”

*   *   *

Led by Constance, a group of Redwallers crept out from behind a buttress at the east corner of the Abbey. They were carrying nets.

“Easy now, let’s bag all three at once.”

Quickbill was the strongest of the three. He saw the shadow of the net spreading over him, but he felt unable to do anything about it. Diptail was in a deep drugged sleep. Brightback tried to keep his eyes open, but they snapped shut. The net fell on them, trapping the three birds squarely at its center. They lay stunned amid the remains of the knockout strawberries.

Little Sister May came out from behind the raspberry canes, wagging a paw at the sleeping thieves. “It serves you right. I hope you wake with dreadful headaches!”

Constance and Winifred rolled the magpies tightly in the nets. “They can’t hear you, Sister,” Constance told her. “Let’s get them inside before we’re spotted.”

Pushing and tugging, they lugged their feathered hostages inside.

The Abbot dusted off his paws. “Well done, my friends. What do we do now, wait until the appointed time or open negotiations right away?”

Constance gave a huge grin. She was beginning to enjoy herself.

“Allow me, Father Abbot. Leave it to Ambrose and me. We’ll go and inform Ironbeak that we have three chickens in the bag. The rest of you, take up your posts at the windows, and make sure there are plenty of arrows and spears showing.”

*   *   *

Constance and Ambrose strolled out in leisurely fashion. The badger threw her head back and called up to the roof, “Hey, you up there! Irontrousers, or whatever you call yourself. Get down here, I want a word with you.”

Ambrose sniggered into his paws. “I wish Basil Stag Hare was here, he’d think of some good names to call that bird.”

There was a short silence, then Mangiz appeared at the eaves. The crow flapped down to a lower roof level.

“Are you ready to surrender so early, stripedog?” he asked.

“Go and boil your beak, featherbag!”

“Silence, earthcrawler. My General sent me to speak with you.”