Cornflower wrung her paws distractedly. She took one last look around Cavern Hole before climbing the stairs to Great Hall. It was quiet and cool in the Abbey’s largest room. Shafts of sunlight, multi-coloured from the stained-glass windows, lanced downwards, etching small pools of rainbow-hued light on the ancient stone floor.

The mouse wandered outside, murmuring beneath her breath as she bustled along, “Where has the little snip gone this time, I wonder? Oh, Matti, you’ll have me grey before my time.”

John Churchmouse was climbing rather stiffly down from the west wall stairs with his book and quill. He almost bumped into Cornflower as she crossed the grounds.

“Afternoon, ma’am. My, my, you look busy.”

Cornflower sat upon the bottom step and heaved a huge sigh. She fanned her whiskers with her paw. “Busy isn’t the word for it, Mr. Churchmouse. I’ve spent the last hour looking for that son of mine. You haven’t seen him, by any chance?”

The kindly recorder patted Cornflower’s paw. “There, there, don’t you worry your head, ma’am. If your little Matti is anywhere, he’ll be with my Tim and Tess. Young rips, they were supposed to be helping Brother Rufus to write out place names for the table. Ha, there he is now. Hi, Rufus, seen anything of Tim, Tess or young Matti lately?”

Brother Rufus strode across, shaking his head. He waggled a scroll of birchbark parchment at them both.

“Ruined!” he exclaimed. “Just look at this list they’re supposed to have written. I can’t possibly use any of this for place settings. Look, Abbot Mordalfus, spelt with one ‘b.’ Basil Stag Hare, you’d think that was simple enough. Oh no, they’ve spelt Basil ‘Bazzerl’ and put an ‘e’ on the end of Stag!”

John Churchmouse pulled forth a kerchief. He blew his snout loudly to disguise the laughter that was shaking him. “Hmm, yes, ahaha. ’Scuse me, well, that wouldn’t have been my Tess, you know. She’s quite good at the spelling.”

Brother Rufus rolled the parchment tightly. “It’s that little Mattimeo, he’s the ringleader. I know you may not like that, Cornflower marm, but it’s the truth!” His voice was shrill with frustration.

Cornflower nodded her head sadly. “Yes, I’m afraid I must agree with you, Brother Rufus. Matti is becoming a real problem. I daren’t tell his father half the things he gets up to.”

John Churchmouse peered sympathetically over the top of his square eyeglasses. “Maybe it’d be better to do so, if you’ll excuse me for saying. Young Matti will have to start growing up sometime if he ever hopes to become the Warrior of Redwall like his father Matthias. Mattimeo will have to start behaving responsibly instead of going about like a spoilt brat, if you’ll pardon the expression, ma’am.”