As if sensing what was going on below, the two buzzards grouped and attacked the center of the band. They dived so speedily no creature had a chance to do anything. There was a scream, and the two great hunting birds rose into the air with a wriggling shrew pinioned between them. From out of the blue they were joined by a third big bird, who soared down with wings outstretched.

“Look, there’s three of them now.”

“That’s no buzzard, it’s attacking them!”

Butting into the buzzards like a battering ram, the strange bird drove them downwards, causing them to drop the shrew, who bumped to earth in a cloud of dust. Clawing and biting, the other bird, who was stockier and shorter than the buzzards, battered away with wing and talon, screeching loudly until it drove them off. Circling to make sure it had driven the predators away, the bird dived and landed next to Orlando.

It was Sir Harry the Muse.

“Pray accept my apologies, sir,

My conscience was bothering me,

So I had to take to the air.

And now I am back, as you see.”

Matthias ran to greet the poetic owl. “Well timed, Sir Harry. Thank you for your help!”

The owl blinked at the sun.

“I’d sooner fly ’neath the moon.

I dread the hot afternoon,

The heat’s infernal and owls are nocturnal.

I hope the sun sets soon.”

The shrew who had been caught by the buzzards was not badly injured. He opened his pouch and offered the owl half a shrewcake which he had been saving. Sir Harry accepted it gravely, bowed politely, then devoured it in a most undignified manner.

“Mmmff, ’sgood, scrumff, ’slovely!”

The poetic owl waddled along beside Matthias as the warrior mouse explained their position.

“I’m afraid we’re very low on supplies. We could only manage to feed you with the same amount as we are rationed to. Don’t tell me you really suffered from conscience pangs, Sir Harry. You must have another reason for flying all this way to be with us.”

“I’d call that a very smart guess.

In fact, you’ve called my bluff.

My reason, I must confess,

Is not for food and stuff.

I get tired of being alone,

Can I come along with you?

I’ve heard you talk of your home,

Could I live at Redwall too?”

“Humph! Pesky bird would scoff us out of the blinkin’ Abbey!” Basil snorted huffily.

Matthias glared reprovingly at the hare. “Basil! Courtesy and good manners cost us nothing.”

The old hare blinked grumpily and unfolded his ears. “Oh well, in for an acorn, in for an oak. I s’pose it’d be all right for him to live at our Redwall. Huh, save me gettin’ all the jolly blame any time a mouthful of food goes missin’, wot?”

Sir Harry did a hop and a skip.

“I knew you’d see things my way.