Brian Jacques - Redwall #22 - The Sable Quean

The vixen took her ear from the door. "Right, but wot does that mean? They're prob'ly sleepin'. Captives ain't got much else t'do."

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Thwip lifted the lock bar silently, carefully. "Now, watch this!"

He flung the door open wide, almost knocking two small hedgehogs flat. He glared at Jinty and Jiddle, the Witherspyk twins.

"Wot are yew two doin' stannin' there like that, eh?"

Jinty was a good actress. She rubbed her stomach sadly. "We was on'y waitin' for ye t'bring us vittles, sir. Will ye bring us some, please? We're all 'ungry!"

Binta took a practised glance around the interior. All she saw was huddled groups of young ones lying about on the floor and the low ledges at the rear of the badly lit cavern. She drew Thwip to one side, muttering out the side of her mouth at him, "Y'see? I told yer there was nothin' wrong. They all look sleepy an' down'earted. Must be through all the time they've spent in this gloomy 'ole. Huh, you'd be the same if'n ye was one of 'em. Bein' short o' vittles, too, I'll wager that breaks down any spirit they once 'ad. C'mon, let's get outta this dungeon, afore it starts t'get us down, too!"

Thwip took a moment to peer about at the captives. "I don't see nothin' o' that fierce liddle shrew, d'you? P'raps we'd best take a count of 'em, eh?"

Binta was beginning to lose patience with her mate. "If'n that mad shrew's gone off in a corner an' died, well, who's bothered? Less trouble fer us, I say. An' as fer takin' a count, d'yer know 'ow many are in 'ere?"

Thwip coiled his whip up reluctantly. "No. Do yew?"

Binta gave an exasperated sigh. "No, I don't, an' I ain't about t'start countin' 'em. Wot's the matter wid yew, are ye goin' soft?"

Shoving Jinty and Jiddle to one side, Thwip stalked out, turning on his mate as she barred the door. "Lissen, smart-mouth--don't yew start talkin' t'me like that in front of the prisoners. I'm not 'avin' it, so there. Just keep yer clever remarks to yoreself!"

Binta was in no mood to continue the argument. "All

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right, keep yer brush on. Cummon, we'd better go an' get the vittles. That lot's gotta be fed, ain't they?"

Back inside the cavern, Flandor, the young otter, hurried to the shield of grass, mud and woven twigs which disguised the tunnel entrance. Calla and Urfa, the two little leverets, were sitting with their backs against it.

Lifting the two baby hares out of his way, Flandor removed the shield and called into the hole, "You can come out now--they've gone!"

The Dibbun Guffy and his friend the molemaid Gurchen scrambled out, rubbing soil from their faces.

Guffy spat out a fragment of wood. "Zurr, ee Flimbeast bee's stuck unner a gurt root in thurr, we'm bee's a-tryen t'pull hurr owt!"

The young otter thumped his rudderlike tail impatiently. "Not again. That's the fifth time she's gotten herself jammed by roots!"

Gurchen was a well-mannered molebabe. She curtsied prettily before replying. "Burr, thurr bee's more rooters than ee cudd shake a stick at en thurr. Et b'aint gunner be no h'easy job, oi tells ee, zurr h'otter!"

Flandor wriggled into the tunnel entrance, muttering, "I'm gettin' a bit fed up o' pullin' little missy trouble out o' roots. Ah, well, here goes!"

Tura and Midda stood by, giggling as they heard Flib being hauled out backward by Flandor.

"Yaargh! Ya great clod'oppin' riverdog--yer rippin' me tail out by the blinkin' roots. Leggo!"

"Oh, go an' boil yore head, shrew. If'n ye tried pushin' harder, I wouldn't 'ave to tug like this. Stop moanin', I'll have ye out soon!"

"Well, 'urry up, planktail, afore I suffercate!"

They tumbled out together just as Jiddle called from the door, "Here comes the vittles. I can 'ear the foxes outside!"

There was no time for Flandor and Flib to clean

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themselves up, so to cover their dishevelled state, they staged a fight in the middle of the floor. Actually, they were so mad at each other that there was little need for play acting. Thwip rolled the cauldron in on its trolley, followed by Binta with the water tub.

The vixen grinned, pointing at the pair tussling in the dust. "There's yore mad shrew, tryin' to slay that otter!"

Thwip curled his lip. "Hah, leave 'em an' let's 'ope they kills one another! Come on, yew lot. Line up 'ere if'n ye wants to eat!"

Binta broke off serving water and set about the fighters with her water ladle, beating them hard. "Break it up, now. Stop this fightin', d'er 'ear me?"

Thwip sighed ruefully. "Yore right, mate. If'n anythin' 'appens to 'em, 'tis us that gets it in the neck from the Sable Quean. You, shrew, any more trouble an' ye don't get vittles or water. Is that clear?"

Flib snarled at her jailer, "No vittles, eh? Lissen, foxy-face, yew try that an' I'll stuff that whip down yer gullet an' make yer eat it!"

Thwip cracked the whip, making Flib jump back. "Ye can wait'll the last t'get served fer that!"

Zwilt the Shade sensed that there was something in the wind when Vilaya sent for him. Standing in her presence, he knew it was not bad news for him, or a reprimand. The Sable Quean invited him to eat with her.

Two plump, freshly grilled rudd lay on a bed of dandelion leaves in front of her. The aroma of the cooked fish was mouthwatering. Allowing her servant Dirva to pour out goblets of pale cider, she smilingly beckoned Zwilt to sit at her side.

"Ah, my faithful commander, I have things to tell you. Come, eat with me and enjoy!"

Vilaya uttered a low, melodious chuckle, as the other sable looked hesitantly at the two fish. "Dirva, eat a small

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bit from each of these rudd, just to assure my brave friend that they are not poisoned. Take a sip from both gobiets also."

The ancient rat sampled the fish, washing the fragments down with a sip from each drink. She cackled, showing the stumps of her gnarled teeth. Zwilt drew back as she clutched the hem of his cloak.

"Heehee, still not sure, noble warrior? I'll take your portion, if you so wish."

The Sable Quean smiled, dismissing Dirva. "Enough. See my cooks and get one for yourself."

Using a dainty rosewood spike, she speared a piece of fish, then swallowed it gracefully.

"Now comes my time of triumph. Zwilt, you have served me well, but there is yet more to be done."

The fish was delicious. Zwilt cleared his mouth with a draught of the fine pale cider. "More, Majesty?"

Vilaya's glittering eyes held him entranced. "My army is ready now. We have a sufficient number of Ravagers but not to fight with--war is a fool's game."

The Shade did not share his Quean's view of things, but he nodded, eager to hear more. "Majesty, what do you intend doing with all these warriors at your command? They are trained and seasoned fighters."

Vilaya's small pointed teeth showed; she leaned forward. "I know you trained them well, Zwilt. Nothing escapes the eyes of your Sable Quean. Listen now--go to the Ravagers' camp. Make them ready to march tomorrow morn. Be sure they are well armed, as my personal bodyguard should be. It will be a display of my power and ferocity"

Zwilt bowed his head. "I hear and obey, Majesty. But why are you doing this?"

Vilaya spat out a fishbone. She held it up, inspecting it. "Because tomorrow we go to the Abbey of Redwall." Ignoring Zwilt, she turned to her servant, Dirva. "Go and select three of my young prisoners. They will accompany me."

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The old rat hobbled off, cackling hoarsely, "So now the game begins!"

Silent as night shadows, the Otter Chieftain and the Salamandastron Blademaster crept through the darkened woodlands. Skipper halted, keeping in the shelter of a small pine grove. He pointed with his javelin.

"Stream ahead. Can ye see anythin', Buck?"

The young hare nodded. "Aye, there's a bit o' movement by those bushes skirtin' the bank."