BooksBarbecue
Back Mattimeo Save as PDF
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?

The Abbot hurried over to watch Rollo. “By the fur, you’re right, Cornflower. Good baby, Rollo. Mixed up letters evergreen. Come on, little one, show me. Your eyes are better than mine. John, get that charcoal and parchment. Take the letters down as I call them out to you.”

Obligingly Rollo began dabbing at various letters with his chubby little paw. Mordalfus relayed them to John Churchmouse. “First one letter B, second one letter B.”

Ambrose Spike scratched his snout. “Will somebeast tell me what in the name of acorns is going on here? Two green bees, letters graven in stone, I always thought bees were yellow and brown.”

The Abbot looked skyward patiently. “Come here, Ambrose, let me show you. Look at the poem. Can you see that certain letters have been filled in with green vegetable dye? Right. I’ve just given John the first two. They are letter Bs not actual bees. See, here are more green letters.”

It was still all a bit above Ambrose. He stared at the letters, shook his head and trundled off. “Huh, I’ve got work to attend to in the cellar. I can’t hang about playin’ word games. You can’t drink stone messages, but good October ale, that’s a different matter. You lot’d look sick without my casks of berry wine, mark my words!”

John Churchmouse glared over the top of his glasses at the retreating cellar keeper.

“Now, where were we? Two letter Bs. What’s next, Abbot?”

“Two letter Os, John. Wait, I think Rollo has found more. Yes, there’s a letter C. Well done, young un. Any more?”

Baby Rollo was enjoying himself. He waved his paw dramatically, stabbing it down as the Abbot called out the letters he indicated. “Take these down, John. T, A, P, W, E, R, and a letter Y. There I’ve translated the old letters pretty well. Is that the lot, Rollo?”

The infant waved to them and pursued Ambrose to the wine cellar.

“Aye, that’s it,” Cornflower chuckled. “What have we got, John?”

“B, B, O, O, C, T, A, P, W, E, R, Y. Twelve letters in all, though they’re fairly well jumbled. I can’t make head nor tail of it. Why couldn’t Abbess Germaine have written what she meant clearly?”

The Abbot stood up and stretched. “Because then it would not have been a secret. Those letters are the key. Once we get them in the right order, we’ll know what the next move is to be.”

*   *   *

In the darkness of the cave, Orlando choked and coughed as he sought wearily about until his paw touched Matthias.