Brian Jacques - Redwall #22 - The Sable Quean

Marjoram shrugged. "Only Corim Althier. My goodness! Where did that come from?"

Fumbril looked up from her tea. "Corim Althier? Did

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Martin put that in your mind? What's it supposed to mean?"

The Abbess was really perplexed. "Martin must have spoken while I was asleep. Corim Althier ... I haven't the foggiest notion of its meaning. Have you any ideas, Sister?"

Fumbril stirred honey into her mint tea. "How should I know, Marj? I ain't a riddle solver, or a wise ole scholar. Granvy the Recorder, I think he'd be the one to ask."

They were about to set off for Granvy's usual habitat, the gatehouse, when Cellarmole Gurjee came trundling through Great Hall, calling to Marjoram, "Yurr, marm, cumm ee farst, naow. Ee rarscally vurmint bee's spotted!"

They followed him out onto the side lawn, where a dozen or more Redwallers stood at the orchard entrance, all looking up at the Abbey, pointing and calling out.

"There, up above the dormitories--he's in the attics!"

Marjoram peered up at the high, tiny windowspaces. "How d'you know? Has anybeast seen him?"

Bribby, a little Dibbun mousemaid, piped up. "HT see'd 'im Muvver Marj, stannin' by dat winder!"

The Abbess lifted the babe up. "Show me where."

Following the line of Bribby's pointing paw, the Red-wallers stared up at the window she was indicating.

Bartij, the big hedgehog Gardener, sighted Globby, the escaped young stoat. "Aye--did ye see? He jus' popped his head out but pulled it back in quicklike when he saw us all lookin' up there. That's the rascally stoat, alright!"

The Abbess clenched her paws decisively. "Then he must be caught. That stoat may have information about our little ones. Fumbril, you stay here and watch the Dibbuns. Bartij, Brother Tollum, will you come with me? Where's Skipper?"

Friar Soogum answered, "Prob'ly still in the woodlands searchin' for the liddle uns, marm."

Accompanied by Bartij and Tollum, Marjoram headed

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indoors. "As soon as Skipper gets back, send him to us-- we'll be up in the attics."

It was plain to Globby he had been spotted. He knew they would be coming up after him, so trying to get past them was out of the question. Dusk was falling--he had no lantern or torch with him. He was scared of venturing higher on the dark, winding stairs, and he could not go down.

So he did the only thing he could think of. Barring the door of the little attic room, he crouched in a dusty corner, grasping the knife he had stolen from the kitchen. He had no more to eat or drink and did not know what to do next. The young stoat could see a single star through the small open window. Without comrades around him, all pretence of being a vermin Ravager dropped away. He sobbed quietly, cursing his ill-fated trespass into Redwall Abbey.

Carrying lanterns, the three searchers made their way upstairs. They had four flights to climb, two of dormitories and sickbay, and two of deserted attics, where nobeast had set paw for many seasons.

When they reached the long, gloomy passage, Brother Tollum placed a paw to his mouth. "Hush now--we may yet surprise the villain."

Taking the doors on the right side of the corridor, they opened them, one by one. The first three creaked on ancient hinges, revealing nothing more exciting than broken furniture shrouded in dust, with the odd bird feather here and there.

On trying the fourth door along, the Abbess turned to her companions, silently mouthing, "Locked."

Brother Tollum took over. He rapped the door sharply, his sepulchral voice booming out, "Come on out--we know you're in there, vermin!"

There was no reply, so Bartij tried. The big hedgehog had a naturally gruff voice: "The longer ye keep us waitin', the worse 'tis goin' t'be for ye, so git yoreself out 'ere, ye scallywag!"

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There was a sob in Globby's voice as he shouted back, "Come out, an' wot for? So ye can drag me down t'that cookin' place an' beat me wid one o' those long paddles. Lissen, youse, I gotta big knife 'ere, an' I'll gut the first un who comes in 'ere. So go 'way an' leave me alone. Go on, clear off!"

This time the Abbess tried, speaking in a soothing tone. "Globby--it is Globby, isn't it? I promise you won't get beaten. Come out. We just want to talk."

The young stoat's reply was scornful. "Lissen, I ain't comin' out fer you or nobeast..."

Brother Tollum whispered to Marjoram, "Keep him talkin'. I've got an idea."

He crept off along the passage, leaving the Abbess to continue reasoning with Globby.

"You'll have to come out sooner or later. Don't be silly, friend. Unlock the door--you've got my word that you won't be hurt."

Globby laughed bitterly. "Hah, so you say. But when we talk, if'n I don't give ye the answers yore after, then yell turn me over t'dat big riverdog wid the paddle, an' he'll belt the daylights out o' me tail. Yew lot must think I'm stoopid!"

Meanwhile Tollum had raced downstairs and grabbed a coil of rope. The tall, thin Bellringer was still in his middle seasons, sound in wind and limb. Carrying the rope, he made the speedy ascent back upstairs, passing the floor in question, and sprinting up to the floor above it. Counting the rooms, he entered the fourth one, then knotted one end of the rope over a crossbeam, paying it out of the window. Tollum did all this with silent efficiency, not wanting to give away the element of surprise.

With squirrellike agility, he vaulted through the window, holding the rope out with both paws. Kicking hard against the wall, he bounded out from the Abbey into space. Tollum swung hard at the open window, unable to see his quarry in the darkness.

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Globby had run to the door to hurl more insults at his tormentors. He heard the sudden whoosh of displaced air and turned, grasping the knife, thrusting it forward.

It was ill fortune for both creatures. The knife sank deep into the squirrel's midriff, but his outstretched footpaws, rigid with shock, smashed into Globby's narrow chest just below the throat. Fatally injured, both beasts slumped to the floor.

The pair outside the door heard the crash and the thud of bodies falling to the floorboards.

Abbess Marjoram pounded on the door. "What is it-- what's going on in there?"

"Step aside, Marm. We'll soon see!"

It was Skipper, returning from the woodlands. "Righto, Bartij, mate, both together ... one, two ..."

On the word three, they charged the door together. There was a splintering snap of the wooden bar which held the room locked, then the door burst open.

Skipper was at Brother Tollum's side instantly. The Abbey Bellringer was sitting with his back to the wall, staring at the knife plunged deep into him.

The otter cradled his head as he slumped to one side. "Tollum, can ye hear me, mate? It's Skipper!"

The normally saturnine squirrel smiled oddly. "Who's sounding the bells? I can hear my bells being tolled. They sound ... so beautiful...."

Abbess Marjoram knelt at Tollum's side, clasping his paw. "Hurry, Skip--run and get Sister Fumbril. Tell her to bring herbs, dressings, salve, anything!"

Prying the Abbess's grip loose, the brawny otter lifted Brother Tollum bodily. "Too late, marm. This goodbeast's gone."

Marjoram looked suddenly lost. She stared blankly at the Otter Chieftain. "Brother Tollum dead? It's not possible. I'll go and get Sister Fumbril myself!"

Bartij stopped her hurrying from the attic room. Taking Marjoram's face in both paws, the big hedgehog assured

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her softly, "Take Skipper's word, marm. Pore Tollum's already gone to the quiet meadows. Let's take a look at the other one. We need to get some information out of him, even if'n 'e is hurted."

Marjoram pulled herself together resolutely. "Yes, you're right. I'd best see what we can do for him. I need to talk with that one."