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Chapters (64)
  1. CAPTURED!
  2. Other Books
  3. Title Page
  4. Map
  5. Introduction
  6. BOOK ONE
  7. 1
  8. 2
  9. 3
  10. 4
  11. 5
  12. 6
  13. 7
  14. 8
  15. 9
  16. 10
  17. 11
  18. 12
  19. 13
  20. 14
  21. 15
  22. 16
  23. 17
  24. 18
  25. 19
  26. 20
  27. 21
  28. 22
  29. 23
  30. 24
  31. 25
  32. BOOK TWO
  33. 26
  34. 27
  35. 28
  36. 29
  37. 30
  38. 31
  39. 32
  40. 33
  41. 34
  42. 35
  43. 36
  44. 37
  45. BOOK THREE
  46. 38
  47. 39
  48. 40
  49. 41
  50. 42
  51. 43
  52. 44
  53. 45
  54. 46
  55. 47
  56. 48
  57. 49
  58. 50
  59. 51
  60. 52
  61. 53
  62. 54
  63. 55
  64. What’s next onyour reading list?

Orlando placed a heavy paw upon Matthias.

“Champion of Redwall, you may be a mouse but your heart is far bigger than mine. Look out, something’s happening over there.”

Nadaz was now pointing his sceptre at the causeway. The rats on the steps made way, and they seemed to shrink back against the rock walls in fear. Matthias gripped his sword hilt tighter and his breath caught in his chest.

It was a huge rodent, somewhere between a ferret and a stoat. The beast looked like a primeval throwback; it had no ears and practically no neck. The hulking head perched squat upon its heavy shoulders leered evilly through curved and stained teeth. Sinew and muscle stood out like great cords all over its body, and heavy spiked iron bands ringed its paws and waist. It carried a stabbing spear of fearsome size and a weighted net.

Nadaz made an evil, sniggering noise.

“Matthias of Redwall who fears nobeast, this is your challenger. Wearet, the slavemaster!”

47

Sister May and Cornflower had tried to feed Stryk with Abbey fare, but the red kite was no vegetarian, so they finally compromised by giving the great hunting bird a net of watershrimp. Stryk had taken to the corner of the wine cellar, and she settled down to sleep on a pile of moss and sacking.

“Stay out of Mr. Spike’s wine cellar, little one,” Sister May warned baby Rollo. “Never go down there alone. We can’t take chances with a bird like that one.”

“Huh, hope it doesn’t get a taste for October ale or elderberry wine, great hulkin’ thing like that’d empty my cellar,” Ambrose Spike grumbled into an apple and blackberry pie wedge.

The Abbot looked over the top of his spectacles. “No quicker than the average cellar-keeper could empty a larder. You’re right, Sister May, Stryk is a fine big bird, but she is not used to our ways. Pity about her wing. She’s very proud. Did you see the way she got huffy when I remarked that it was broken? I’d like to take a look at it sometime.”

Cornflower stopped Rollo roaming in the direction of the wine cellar and sat the mischievous infant on her lap.

“Poor thing,” Sister May said sympathetically. “Apparently she built her nest on a piece of branch sticking out from the mountain. Then one night the branch rotted and the nest fell. She struck her wing awkwardly on a jagged rock and broke it. Stryk said that she lay in the ruined nest for many days, unable to move. She had no mate to defend her and she was attacked by other birds. Finally she forced herself to fly. Bit by bit she made her way across the western plain, looking for somewhere to shelter, and that was when she saw our Abbey.”