“There ain’t been a move out of anybird, we watched the eaves all afternoon, Brother Trugg, Foremole and meself. Not a feather or a beak stirred.”

The Abbot scratched his chin. “Strange, I was sure that Ironbeak would try to lay some sort of trap, either him or that sly crow. Odd, very odd.”

“Odd or not,” Constance shrugged, “the sun’s going down. We’d best get these three outside and exchange them for three decent creatures. Winifred, will you and Foremole see that archers and javelins fill the main doorways behind us? Keep them facing Ironbeak and his company in case of trouble.”

Foremole saluted dutifully. “Doant ee wurry, marm, us’ll give’m billyo if’n they moves a claw.”

*   *   *

General Ironbeak’s hostages had been carefully flown down a short time after sunset. The two mousemothers kept their eyes shut tight as they were borne through the air by six rooks. Baby Rollo, however, enjoyed the flight immensely, whooping and giggling as he tugged at the three birds that were carrying him. They landed safely in front of the Abbey pond, then surprisingly the carrier birds flew off, leaving the hostages guarded only by Ironbeak and Mangiz. To forestall any thoughts of escape, the two birds kept their fearsome beaks close to Rollo’s head, knowing that neither Cornflower nor Mrs. Churchmouse would attempt anything whilst the infant was threatened. Slowly they walked across to the main Abbey door.

Constance and Ambrose awaited them, standing to one side of the three magpies. The open Abbey doors were crowded with determined Redwallers armed to the teeth.

Ironbeak halted short of the door.

“Why are all your creatures armed and menacing us like this. I understood this was to be a friendly exchange?” His voice was harsh and commanding.

Foremole waved a large spear at the raven. “Harr, doant make oi larff, you’m the vurmints wot been a-doin’ all the tricksterin’ an’ attacken. Thus yurr’s wot us calls porteckshun ’gainst crafty ol’ burdbags.”

Mangiz pointed with his wing. “Why are these birds bound like this? We have not tethered your creatures.”

Ambrose winked at the crow. “Prob’ly ’cos mice don’t have beaks and wings, puddenhead.”

“I will not stand here to be insulted by you, hedgepig,” Mangiz fumed.

“Then stand somewhere else and I’ll insult you there, featherbag!!”

“Ambrose, do not provoke them,” Constance interrupted. “We are here to make a peaceful exchange of hostages, one for one. Cornflower, are you all right?”

“Yes, thank you, Constance. As well as can be expected under the circumstances.”

Constance bowed stiffly to Ironbeak. “Thank you, raven. As you can see, the magpies are unharmed, apart from being restrained, otherwise they have been well treated.”

Ironbeak cast his bright eyes on the doorway. “You must think me a fool! I make no exchanges while we are faced with weapons. Tell your creatures to put down their arms.”