There was a hollow noise of turnip striking beak, followed by a loud squawking caw.

Winifred nodded with satisfaction. “Good shot! Let him go and tell old Irontrousers about that!”

*   *   *

“If we are making plans, has any creature got a suggestion?” the Abbot asked, keeping his voice low.

“Ho urr, oi ’ave. If’n you can’t cross Gurt ’all or goo out Abbey, whoi doant me’n moi moles tunnel out?”

There was no doubting Foremole’s logic, as Constance was first to agree.

“Splendid idea. There’s no telling what we could do if we could tunnel out without Ironbeak knowing. However, I was thinking of what he said last night. If he means to conquer Redwall, he must attack us down here sooner or later. It will become fairly obvious to him that we have lots of food to keep us going, so in the event of not being able to starve us out, he’ll attack Cavern Hole. I think we should barricade the stairs to keep them out.”

There was unanimous agreement for the tunnel and the barricade, and the busy Redwallers set about their tasks with a will.

*   *   *

Out on the sunbaked wastelands, Matthias and his followers were slowed down from a brisk march to a shambling gait. Basil Stag Hare crossed his ears loosely over his head in an attempt to provide himself with some shade.

“Whew! D’you know, I’ll never look a hot scone in the face again, knowin’ it’s come out of a jolly old oven as hot as this place.”

Cheek tenderly pawed his dry nose. “Huh, quick march and follow me, lads. We should have travelled by night instead of listenin’ to you, flopears.”

Basil brushed at his drooping whiskers. “I’d give you a swift kick if I had the energy, young feller.”

A broad black shadow fell across Matthias, but he carried on, enjoying the shade without thinking where it had come from.

“Get down!”

The warrior mouse was thrown flat as Jess tackled him from behind. As he hit the dust, Matthias felt a rushing breeze pass over him. He turned over and looked up.

Two great buzzards circled overhead, wheeling and soaring as they waited for a chance to catch any creature off guard.

Log-a-Log fitted a stone to his sling as he sighed wearily, “Heat, thirst, desert, big birds. What next?”

The slings had little effect on the buzzards, as the great dark birds would see the stone coming and fly out of range with ease.

Orlando called a halt to the slinging. “Stop, stop! You’re only wasting energy. Let’s ignore them. Well, not exactly ignore them, if you know what I mean, but keep an eye on them. Matthias, you take the front of the column, I’ll take the rear. If they get too close we might get the chance of a sword or axe strike, and that’ll put paid to them.”