“Last chance. When I say throw down your weapons, I mean it. Next time I walk around I will search you, and anyone carrying a weapon – anyone, I don’t care who – I’ll kill that creature with his own armoury. I’ll gut him, right here in front of you all. Now, throw down your weapons!”

There was a clatter. Knives, hooks, swords, strangling nooses, daggers and axes fell to the ground like a sudden shower of April rain.

Slagar kicked at a saw-edged spike. “Wartclaw, gather ’em and sling ’em into the church until we get back. The rest of you, form up around the cart, ten in front pulling, the rest at the sides and back shoving. We’ll take the path nice and easy now, travel at a steady pace. That’ll bring us there in the early evening.”

*   *   *

As they trundled along the path, the Sly One said to his minions, “Leave all the talking to me. I know these creatures and I can handle them. Nobody talks, is that clear? I don’t want any loose-tongued addlebrain blowing the gaff by mistake. If anyone speaks to you, then pull a silly face, smile and turn a cartwheel. Act the goat. You’re supposed to be a travelling entertainment, so look amusing. If they ask us to share their food, which they probably will, then mind your manners and don’t go piggin’ it down. Take a slice or a portion of whatever and pass the bowl to your neighbor. If there’s ladies present, then be polite and offer them the food first, before you start wolf in’ it down your famine-fed gobs. Be friendly with the little ones and keep your eyes out for any likely looking youngsters, straight-limbed, sturdy. Don’t for the claws’ sake recognize Vitch. You’ve never set eyes on him before. Right, any questions?”

Fleaback held up a paw. “Er, how’ll we know when the moment is right, Chief?”

“I’ll tell you, dunderhead.”

Halftail was a little puzzled. “But how will you know, Slagar?”

The Sly One looked at him pityingly. “Because they’ll be asleep, nitbrain.”

“How will you know that they’re all going to go asleep together at the same time?” Halftail persisted.

Slagar patted his belt pouch. “Don’t worry, I’ll see to that. Oh, and after we’ve put on our performance, don’t drink anything, whatever you do. When you are sitting at the table you can drink what you like, but not once you’ve left the table to perform.”

“Duh huh huh hu!” Skinpaw laughed oafishly. “Yer goin’ to drug ’em, aren’t you, Chief?”

Slagar looked down from his perch on the cart. “I’ll drug you if you don’t shuttup, turniphead.”

Halftail piped up again. “But if we drug ’em all, what’s to stop us taking over this Redwall place ourselves?”