[Redwall 01] - Redwall by Brian Jacques

Author:Brian Jacques [Jacques, Brian]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 2010-10-09T19:17:30.839000+00:00

Matthias felt the suffocating dust clog his mouth as he struggled to turn his body over. Warbeak pecked

and scratched frantically, her target obscured by the bulky haversack. Reaching up behind himself, the

mouse felt around until he grasped the sparrow’s leg. Giving it a hard pull, he rolled over, plucking out his

dagger in the same movement. Matthias lay across Warbeak, pinning her to the floor, the point of his

dagger pricking the sparrow’s throat.

“Listen, Warbeak,” Matthias panted. “One more move like that and it will be your last. Do you hear

me?”

Both creatures lay still awhile, their faces close together, breathing heavily. The sparrow was still

defiant. “I get chance, Warbeak killee mouse. Sparra not give up, you see!”

Matthias sprang to his feet, tugging the lead viciously. He dragged the sparrow stumbling and tripping

to the crack of light. Swinging the bird forwards, Matthias pushed her through the narrow aperture,

squeezing through after her with great difficulty.

They were on the first ledge, high above Great Hall.

Without warning, Matthias shoved Warbeak roughly off the ledge.

The startled sparrow shot downwards and stopped with a jerk, only thick neck feathers saving her from

strangulation. Matthias held the lead tightly with both paws, straining backwards as the sparrow dangled

and fluttered over Great Hall.

“Now, you promise to behave yourself, or down you go, my friend,” Matthias shouted.

With her heart hammering at the surprise attack and her predicament, Warbeak realized that she was

completely at the mercy of her captor. Burdened with the brick, she had no chance of flying. As she hung

flapping uselessly, Matthias called down, “Make up your mind! My paws are getting tired. This lead’s

beginning to slip.”

A forlorn little voice answered. “Warbeak not wanta die. Mouse win. Pull Sparra up. Be good. Give

word.”

Bracing himself against a stone arch, Matthias pulled the sparrow back to safety. Together they sat on

the ledge sharing a canteen of water, both weary and dusty. Matthias was still wary of his prisoner.

“How good is the word of a sparrow?” he asked.

Warbeak puffed out her chest. “Sparra word always good. Warbeak no say lie. Me swear by mother’s

egg. That big swear.”

Matthias reflected that he had used desperate measures to secure a promise, but with justification. He

was being uncompromising with himself as well as his captive. No more could he afford to be the silly little

novice that had bumbled about the Abbey before the start of the present troubles. He was maturing,

learning the warrior’s way. This mission was vital. Redwall depended upon him, just as it had once

depended upon Martin the Warrior.

Warbeak cocked her head quizzically to one side. “What Matthias think about?”

The young mouse repacked the water canteen into his haversack. “Oh, nothing much, Warbeak. Come

on, we’d better get on.”

With an odd feeling, Matthias realized that he and Warbeak were now on first-name terms.

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