Brian Jacques - Redwall #22 - The Sable Quean

The Skipper wore no vest, and tattooed upon his chest, was a picture of a flea lost in the fog.

Well, it turned out that old Captain, was a hog named Gusty Snout, my long-lost daddy that I'd never seen.

So me and that old tar, sailed right back home to Ma, who saw us coming and let out a scream.

She cried, 'Alas alack, are you two villains back?'

And beat us soundly with a knotty log.

And as she wouldn't stop it, well, we both had to hoppit, now we're back aboard the good old Scruffy Dog\"

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Sometime later that night all paws on the raft were fast asleep. The woodlands were still, and the ground was warm from the summer day, with not even a whisper of breeze to stir either grass or leaves.

Grakk and two other weasels had not taken any more captives. On returning to the River Moss, they had been unable to locate the Guosim shrews. Following a sidestream south, Grakk and his cohorts met up with two other Ravagers. It was the small, scrawny fox and the burly weasel who had been in trouble with Buckler and Diggs.

All five vermin were at that moment lying low in the woodland fringes, watching the three young creatures who were sleeping not far from the streambank. The small fox looked around nervously.

Grakk crawled up alongside him. "Wot are yew lookin' so jumpy about, eh?"

The fox pointed to Flib, who was curled up amidst the moss and fallen leaves. "See that un? She's a shrew--we met up with 'er afore. I know 'tis the same beast, 'cos I kin see a knife an' a club wot she stole off us."

Grakk's whisper oozed scorn. "Yer let a shrewmaid take yore weppins, huh, an' you two calls yerselves Ravagers?"

The burly weasel defended himself and the fox. " 'Twas a trap, see. We was tricked by 'er--she 'ad two others lyin' in wait fer us. Aye, two o' those big fightin' rabbets, an' they weren't short o' weppins, big swords an' loaded slings, daggers, too, an' prob'ly a couple o' spears. I tell ye, Grakk, ye wouldn't like t'meet up wid that pair. Killers they were, champeen warriors!"

Grakk stared hard at the fox. "So, wot 'appened? Why wasn't ye killed by 'em, eh?"

The small fox glared right back at him, lying earnestly. " 'Cos we escaped from them. We 'ad to run fer it, an' we lost our weppins in the scramble. They chased us fer over a day an' night, but we outran them."

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"Hah, youse two ran faster 'n two big rabbets? Ye must bejokin'!"

The burly weasel butted in belligerently "Well, we ain't, an' if'n you 'ad two big fightin' rabbets chasin' ye with long swords, you'd 'ave run, too, fer yore life. 'Cos ye don't stop t'mess about wid beasts like them, see!"

Not wanting to continue the dispute, Grakk held up a paw. "Keep yer voice down, mate. I believe ye. So, if'n ye can't see the big rabbets anyplace around, let's grab those three young uns an' get movin' fast, while the goin's good."

Flib had been knocked out cold by a blow from the club, which had once belonged to the vermin. The small fox kicked her spitefully.

"I should kill ye right now for wot ye did to us!"

Grakk slammed his spearpoint into the ground beside the fox. "Ye can cut that kinda talk, or ye'll answer to Zwilt the Shade. You'n'yore mate, lash 'er paws t'gether an' sling 'er on the spearpole. Are those two young 'ogs ready t'go?"

Jinty and Jiddle sat terrified, with their mouths gagged. A weasel bound their forepaws, dragging them upright.

Grakk blindfolded them and tapped both their snouts with his dagger point as he hissed savagely, "One wrong move an' we'll roast ye for dinner. If'n ye want t'live, then do as yore told, got it?"

Not waiting for them to nod, he shoved the young hogs roughly. "Now, git goin'--move yerselves."

The Ravagers sped off into the night, prodding their captives forward.

Flib was still unconscious, hanging from the spearhaft as the burly weasel and the small fox hurried to keep up with the others.

The early noontide peace was shattered as Redwall's twin bells, Matthias and Methuselah, tolled out a brazen alarm.

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Casting dignity to one side, Abbess Marjoram hurried about, yelling, "Everybeast to the east wallgate. There's two Dibbuns missing. Has anyone seen Guffy and little Tassy?"

She was intercepted by Granvy. The old hedgehog scribe tried to calm her down. "Mother Abbess, we don't know if they're lost out in the woodlands. They may still be within the Abbey. Who can explain what Dibbuns get up to? Listen, now, you go inside, take Friar Soogum and whatever kitchen helpers he has to spare. Search inside the Abbey from attics to wine cellars. Guffy and Tassy may be hiding, or perhaps merely taking a nap."

Marjoram managed a smile. "Yes, you could be right, my friend. If they're in there, I'll find the scamps. But where are you going?"

The Recorder tapped the side of his snout knowingly. "I've got an idea. You know I just said, 'Who can explain what Dibbuns get up to?' Well, I think I know the answer. Other Dibbuns! When I began looking for Guffy and Tassy, I saw the Dab gang over by the gatehouse, playing near the steps. I'll ask them."

Marjoram looked puzzled. "The Dab gang?"

Granvy chuckled. "Haven't you heard of the Dab? Dibbuns Against Bedtime, that's their initials."

The Abbess nodded. "Of course. I'd just forgotten about it. Right, you go and see them, and I'll search the Abbey building. Good luck!"

By teatime that afternoon, there was still no sign of the missing Dibbuns. It was a worried gathering of Redwallers who sat upon the main Abbey steps. Friar Soogum passed around with food and drink, doling it out to everybeast.

"C'mon, now, eat somethin' for seasons' sakes. It won't do any good if'n ye make yoreselves ill with hunger. Oh, there's a thought, Skipper. I'll wager those two liddle rascals will show up once they get empty tummies!"

The Otter Chieftain sighed. "Ye could be right, Friar, but

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they already 'ad vittles at lunchtime, so they won't be 'lingered just yet. Wot luck did you 'ave, Granvy?"

The hedgehog Recorder scratched his untidy beard. "Well, I should've expected not to get much sense out of Dibbuns. One small wretch said that he actually saw Guffy and Tassy fly up in the air, when I asked him where they went--he said right up over a moon! I quote him literally. Another fanciful little miss said that the big butterfly had eaten them, and some other tiny fibber said Friar Soogum had made them into soup. Though most just spread their paws and said 'Gone!' Just as babes will, no explanation but 'Gone!' So, that's the sum total of my information."

Skipper sipped a beaker of cold mint tea. "Well, me an' some others searched outside the east wall. We had no real luck, though. Most of the ground an' foliage was well trampled by the tree trimmin'. Creatures goin' to an' fro there, haulin' branches. That's all the tracks I could make out. We'll have to range further into the woodlands if'n we're searchin' for pawtracks."

The Abbess enquired hesitantly, "Will it be very difficult to find the prints of two little ones, Skipper?"

The big otter's brow furrowed. "It always is with babes, marm, but they ain't the tracks I'd be lookin' for."

Tollum Bellringer nodded toward the woodlands. "You mean vermin tracks, Skip--is that wot yore thinkin'?"

To save upsetting everybeast further, Friar Soogum spoke. "Well, now, me'n' the Abbess an' our party, we still got plenty o' searchin' yet t'do. We scoured the cellars, Great Hall, an' Cavern Hole, too. We're up t'the dormitories so far. But there's still the attics. Though why anybeast in their right mind would want t'go wanderin' up in those dusty ole chambers is beyond me. You scouted out yore Infirmary yet, Sister?"

Fumbril replied promptly. "First thing I did, Friar. Every-thin' is as it should be, no sign o' Dibbuns!" The otter paused, tapping her rudder thoughtfully. "Er, Friar, I just thought o' somethin'. That stoat vermin we caught in yore