Tess nodded in agreement at Matthias's words. "Your father's right, Mattimeo." she chided. "None of us know what Beleos's life was like before Redwall, so it's not fair to pick on him for behaving differently. I remember him telling me yesterday that he lived under the shadow of a tyrant. Imagine that! And apparently he too was captured and made a prisoner in Slagar the Cruel's slave army. That's a lot to go through for an adolescent mouse."
Tess next diverted her attention to Aislin. Although she had had plenty of rest, the young mousemaid still looked a little shaky from her fall, and her face was slightly pale. Tess put a sympathetic paw on her friend's shoulder. "Are you sure you're feeling okay, Aislin? Maybe we should take you to the kitchens. Cornflower could fix you up a nice cup of tea to calm your nerves."
"Sardy Longtail, eh? Hmm..."
The badger scratched her head and gazed thoughtfully at the old mouse maiden below her for a few moments longer. She didn't seem to be concealing weapons, she thought. In fact, the old creature didn't look dangerous at all. She was, after all, just a weak, aging fieldmouse in need of assistance. Exactly the type of traveling visitor that was accepted at Redwall Abbey.
Constance grunted and said, more to herself than to the figure far below, "Wait there, I'm opening the gates!" Constance climbed down the parapet swiftly and began issuing orders to the two mice standing guard by the entrance. Within minutes, the ancient gates were creaked open, revealing a narrow gap for the aged female mouse to slip through. Up above, guardsmice were positioned atop the parapet where Constance had been standing earlier, on the lookout for anything suspicious that might take place in the forest below.
"You may come in now!" Constance called through the small opening. "But be warned! We have mice here with lances and swords aimed at your throat, so don't try anything funny! We're in no mood for games."
Blackfur hooted and cheered along with the others in Grimclaw's horde, but internally he was feeling his own selfish kind of joy. He'd heard from various accounts that Redwall Abbey was awash in valuables, gold, and ancient treasures. No doubt he could sell such priceless items and make a huge profit. Blackfur decided he must prove himself particularly useful during this raid so that Grimclaw might decide to give him a large fraction of the goods. And of course, when no one was looking, he would filch a silver ring or two, for his own sake.
