Brian Jacques - Redwall #22 - The Sable Quean

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an' some with little uns to look after, like yore sister. Have ye got any more bright ideas, shrew?"

Flib finished chewing through her bonds. She flung the cord away angrily. "No, riverdog--have yew?"

Flandor dropped his voice. "I'm rackin' my brain for a way out of here, but it ain't that simple. Most of 'em in here are too hungry t'think of plans. They're more worried about where their next meal is comin' from an' if it's goin' to be enough t'live on."

Tura the squirrelmaid sided with Flandor. "Aye, we heard the way you fought Thwip an' Binta out there. Very brave of ye, I'm sure. But think about this--they'll prob'ly stop our vittles as a punishment."

Even Midda was in agreement with Flandor and Tura. "Us older ones can stand a few days' hunger, but what about these poor babes? There's not just Borti. Infant mice, squirrels, hedgehogs, moles, even two little hares arrived just afore you did. How long d'ye think any of those can last without vittles?"

Flib was in no mood to be reasonable. She carried on rebelliously. "They can't stop the vittles. Let's all tell 'em so. C'mon, all of ye shout, We want vittles! Right, all together, now. One, two ... we want vittles!"

At first there was only Flib shouting. She began seizing others and shaking them. "Shout out, will ye? We want vittles. Shout! Shout!"

For some unknown reason, everybeast obeyed. Not only did they cry out, but they repeated, louder and louder, "We want vittles! We want vittles!"

The stern-faced ferret guard bellowed back at them, "Alright, stop that noise. The vittles are on their way!"

Flib felt triumphant. Her mood changed to one of optimism. She grinned at Flandor.

"See? I told ye so. If'n ye shout loud enough, they gotta do somethin' about it. Ahoy, wot's that you've got?"

Flandor held up a small wooden spoon. "It's my spoon. I had it with me when I was captured."

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Flib took the spoon. She inspected it carefully before putting out a general question to all the prisoners. "Who else has a spoon, or any thin' like one?"

Several creatures had spoons, but the one who caught the shrewmaid's eye was a young mole. She had what looked like an old broken knife made of iron. "Et wurr moi ole granfer's, but et bee'd broked, so ee give'd et to oi."

Flib took it, along with several other spoons that were strongly made and a fork carved from some type of thick bone.

Midda cautioned her sister, "Hide 'em. The foxes are here with our vittles!"

Thwip had armed himself with a spear. He waved it at Flib. "Keep yer distance, shrew. I ain't servin' yer. Wot's left in the cauldron after they've all been served will do fer you!"

Flib silently joined the back of the line. When it was her turn, she scraped out the remains of the meagre meal. Plopping it on the piece of slate which Midda used as a plate, Flib said gruffly, "I don't want any o' that bilge. Give it t' Borti."

When the meal was over, the foxes removed the cauldron and the water tub, leaving the captives alone in the gloomy cavern.

Flib posted Jinty and Jiddle Witherspyk at the entrance. "Youse two, keep yer eyes peeled an' yer ears open. If'n ye hear anybeast comin', let us know, sharpish! Flandor, fetch me those tools--the knife'n'fork an' those spoons I picked out."

Tura the squirrelmaid watched Flib going to the rear of the cavern. "What are you goin' to do?"

The Guosim shrewmaid stared at the walls speculatively. "I was keepin' me eyes open when they carried me 'ere hangin' from that spearpole. I think this whole place is built underneath an ole giant of an oaktree. Look up. Can ye see the great thick roots runnin' all ways above us? My guess is right, eh?"

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Flandor passed over the eating implements. "Maybe so, but wot does that prove?"

Flib explained, "No tree as big as an oak could grow on solid rock. Trees need earth, soil to grow in. Now, you there, molemaid, wot's yore name?"

The molemaid who had donated the broken iron knife curtsied, introducing herself. "Oi'm Gurchen, marm."

Flib could not help smiling. "Well then, Gurchen, yore a mole--take a look round this place an' tell me, where's the softest spot t'start diggin'?"

"Hurr, oi'd say roight yurr whurr oi be a settin'." It was Guffy, the Redwall Dibbun.

Gurchen toddled over. She scratched the caveside where Guffy sat. "Burr aye, ee'm coorect, 'tis gurtly soily!"

Flib dug the broken knife in. It went easily, right up to the hilt. She chuckled happily.

"Good enough! This is where I starts diggin' the tunnel. Seein' as we can't fight our way out o' the front entrance, we'll dig our way outta the back!"

This news caused shouts of joy. Tura waved her paws frantically at the young ones.

"Hush! Be quiet all of ye, we don't want the vermin to know. Flib, we're all with ye, friend. Now, what can we do to help?"

The shrewmaid was in full charge; she began issuing her orders. "The two liddle moles kin 'elp me. Flandor, I want you to make a cover. Use moss, beddin', anythin' that we can disguise the hole with. Tura, get some o' the others to 'elp ye. When the soil comes out, it'll need spreadin' over the floor, so it ain't noticed."

Midda approached; she was hugging Borti, who was weeping softly for his mother. "Petunia ... sorry, I mean Flib, wot can I do to help ye?"

Flib smiled as she stroked little Borti's head. "Just keep the babe from cryin' for his ma. Much more o' that, an' I'll be weepin' meself!"

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Tassy the Redwall Dibbun smiled prettily at Flib. "Fank yoo for 'elpin' us all, nice shrew!"

Flib wiped a paw roughly across her eyes. "Don't thank me yet, darlin'. Not 'til we're outta this mouldy ole place."

Tura murmured to Flandor, "I don't think anybeast'd snitch to the vermin to get extra vittles, d'you?"

The young otter wagged his rudder. "Certainly not. Look at 'em--you can see hope in their eyes. Hope, at the chance o' freedom!"

Subaltern Meliton Gubthorpe Digglethwaite was consumed by a longing to be at Redwall Abbey as soon as possible. By that token, so were his travelling companions. Accordingly, they were all awake and on the march long before dawn. The prospect of breakfast at the Abbey lent a spring to their steps.

Young Auroria Witherspyk began singing--she was noted in the troupe for her sweet voice. It was not a particularly rousing marching song, but the beauty of it soon took effect. Everybeast felt lightpawed, dreamy almost, as the hogmaid's clear tones rose to the softly dawning day.

"When gentle dawn bedecks the land, through woodlands green I roam, where friendly trees stirred by the breeze, shed deep their leafy loam.

Small birds sing sweetly to the sky,

'Pray turn dark night to day'

By copse and hill, o'er brook and rill,

I wend my happy way.

"For there 'mid joyous scenes like these, a heart finds rest and ease.

"Where moss and fern and forest flow'rs, of every rainbow hue,

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play host to bee and butterfly

all bathed in early dew.

Whilst hawthorn, oak and sycamore in every quiet glade

do please the eye of passersby, with dappling sun and shade.

"For there 'mid joyous scenes like these, my heart finds rest and ease."

The last tremulous notes of the lovely melody had scarce died in the pale dawnlight when Diggs roared out, "There 'tis, there 'tis! Wot ho, chaps, Redwall Abbey! The very place, wot!"

He was pointing through a break in the trees at a dim, distant shape.

Log a Log Jango confirmed the sighting. "Aye, that's the Abbey rooftops ye can see. When we gets closer, ye'll see the belltower alongside it."

Old Crumfiss shook her greyspike head. "I doubt we'll be in time for brekkist. 'Tis too far off yet. These paws o' mine can't go any faster. Unless ye all want to run along an' I'll follow."