Doomwyte

“Suddenly the cave became alive with noise, birds cacklin’, toads croakin’ an’ a big drum bangin’. A gang o’ the carrion an’ reptiles came in, draggin’ a net with two creatures trapped inside it. They lugged it to this big lake, in the middle of the cave. There was clouds o’ the green mist comin’ off this lake, it was bubblin’ like a cauldron over a fire. There was an island at the centre of the lake, with a statue on it. The thing looked like a huge black bird, with a serpent coiled on its head, like a crown. But it was the eyes of the statue that caught my attention. Four of ’em, great, glitterin’ jewels, two red for the bird, an’ two green for the snake. They shone like fire, twinklin’ an’ dazzlin’ like stars!”

Bisky whispered to Dwink, “The Eyes of the Great Doomwyte, see, I told you it was true….”

Samolus silenced Bisky with a glare. He turned back to the ancient diary as Umfry Spikkle interrupted eagerly, “Wot ’appened next, Sam’lus, tell h’us more!”

Abbot Glisam reprimanded the big Gatekeeper mildly. “Hush now, Umfry, give Samolus a chance.”

The old mouse turned the yellowed pages slowly.

“Then a giant crow, with a snake curled about his head, just like the statue, came flyin out o’ the mist. All the birds an’ reptiles started chantin’, ‘Rigvar Skurr! The Wytessss! The Wytesss!’ Then the big drum set off to boomin’ again. From where I was hidin’, I could see that the two trapped in the net were Guosim shrews, friends of Redwall. But there was nothing I could do to help them. It was horrible wot happened to those two pore beasts, too awful to tell ye.”

Samolus paused as he turned the page. “Lady Columbine takes up the story now.”

My Gonff would speak no more about the fate of the Guosim shrews. He sat quiet awhile, breathing in the sweet scent of the orchard before he spoke again.

“How lucky we are to be living in this beautiful Abbey, able to breathe clean air, and see the sky above. Just the thought of that cave gives me the shivers, but some good came out of it. Everybeast has to sleep sometime, that was when I took my revenge on those evil ones, for the cruel way they slew those shrews. I stole what seemed to me their most treasured possessions, and escaped the cave without being noticed. For am I not Gonff, the Prince of all Mousethieves!”

Bisky clapped his paws with delight. “Ha ha, good ole Prince Gonff, he swiped the eyes out o’ the statues!”

Samolus tweaked the young mouse’s ear. “Excuse me, who’s telling this tale, me or you?”

Smilingly, the Abbot corrected him. “Lady Columbine, I think, friend. You’re only the reader.”

Samolus sniffed. “Good, then perhaps you’ll allow me to carry on with my reading. Right, back to Columbine.”

Gonff produced a cloth bag from his jerkin, and gave it to me. There were four stones in it, each the size of a dove’s egg. They were brilliant, two as red as embers in a winter night’s fire, the other two as green as sunlight shining through a mossy pool.

“These are for you, my dear,” said Gonff.

However, I could not think of accepting such gifts, and gave him my reason for refusing. “If these jewels are the eyes of the statue you told me of, then they have seen many evil deeds. I could not wear them, touch them, and I feel very uneasy just looking at them. You must put them somewhere where they will never again be seen. Someplace where they will not bring danger to Redwall. If their owners ever find out it was you who stole the eyes of their statue, it could bring death to our Abbey. They are stones of ill fortune!”

Samolus closed the book. “So there you have it, Father, the tale young Bisky told was mostly true, with just a few words of his own invention to make the recital of it more thrilling. Is that not right, young un?”

The young mouse shrugged self-consciously. “Aye, just as ye say, Grandunk. But wot happened to the Eyes of the Great Doomwyte? Did Prince Gonff ever tell where he’d hidden them?”

Abbot Glisam let his curiosity show. “Indeed, it would be very interesting to know. Is there nothing in Lady Columbine’s book?”

Samolus shook his head. “Nothing at all, Father, she never mentions the subject again. But do you see this other book, and these scrolls, that I had hidden in the rafters? Well, this book belonged to Gonff, it’s one long riddle from beginning to end. As for the scrolls, they’re the mole Dinny’s notes.”

Dwink chimed in brightly, “Please, sir, could we have a look through them, maybe we could find some clues….”

Abbot Glisam perked up suddenly. “What fun that would be. May we look, Samolus? I don’t suppose there’d be any harm in just looking. Who knows, we may even find the jewels.”

The old mouse willingly placed the material on the Gatehouse table. “Be my guest, friends. I’ve taken a good peek through ’em meself an’ had no luck. So if you think ye can translate the scribbles of a mousethief, an’ the squiggled ramblin’s of a mole, yore welcome to ’em!”

Bisky leapt upon Gonff’s journal. “Leave this to me, pals, I’ll find those jewels!”