Brian Jacques - Redwall #22 - The Sable Quean

"You, what's your name?"

The ferret saluted with his spear. "Aggrim, Sire." Zwilt's cold, dead gaze assessed him. "Can ye track?" Aggrim nodded. "I ain't too bad at follerin' a trail, Sire."

The tall sable sat on a fallen alder. "Take one of these with ye. Cast wide until you come across any prints, foxes

223

or not. Then stay where those tracks are and send the other guard back here to me with the information. Do ye understand that?"

Aggrim saluted again. "Aye, Sire. Feril, you come with me."

Peril, a younger ferret, trotted off behind him.

Zwilt took out his long broadsword and honed its double edges on a smooth stone. The two guards did their best not to look nervous. Nobeast could tell what was on the sable's mind. However, he ignored them, concentrating almost lovingly on caressing his blade with the stone slowly, evenly. Listening to the soft hiss of rock upon steel, planning a suitable fate for the two foxes who had deserted their post.

Far sooner than he expected, Feril came loping furtively back. His voice sounded low and eager. "Sire, Aggrim's not only found tracks, but he's spotted somebeasts, not too far from here!"

Zwilt's impassive face never changed expression. "Where?"

Feril pointed. "Over that ways, Sire. There's two little uns wot must've escaped from Althier, a big mole, one o' those riverdogs, a shrew"--he halted, smiling, as he had saved the best for last--"an' ye recall that big rabbet ye met at the Redwall place? Well, him, too!"

The smile that dawned over the sable's features was one of pure evil. He murmured softly to his guards, "You three, along with Aggrim, can take care of the riverdog, mole and shrew. Slay the little uns, too. They're more trouble than they're worth. But not a word to Quean Vilaya, or you'll answer to me. As for the rabbet, he's mine. Leave him to me. Understood?"

As they nodded, Zwilt beckoned to Feril. "Lead on."

Buckler and his friends were taken completely by surprise. Following Sniffy, who was leading them through a thick

224

bed of tall ferns, they did not see the enemy until the vermin were almost upon them. They were ambushed from both sides.

Skipper heard a movement to his left. He turned, calling out, "Wot the--"

A spearhaf t thudded into his jaw, and he fell. Then chaos broke loose. Axtel threw himself across Tassy and Borti, protecting them with his body as he lashed out with his crutch, slaying Feril with a mighty blow to the throat.

Sniffy yelled as he saw Zwilt rise up at Buckler's back. "Buck, behind ye!"

A spear took the Guosim Tracker through the shoulder. He held on to it, drawing his short rapier and fending off his attacker.

Buckler wheeled about swiftly, his own long rapier out and ready as Zwilt's heavier broadsword crashed down against it. The young hare's paws went numb from the shock, but he knew he was fighting for his life, so he parried the stroke.

Zwilt turned to one side, anticipating a lunge, which did not come--Buckler knew the sable's tactic, to slash down as he went by. Dropping back, he made his assailant come to him.

Zwilt was forced to move forward. Caught upon the wrong footpaw, he stumbled. Buckler's long blade came up at him in a blur of small circles. It caught the broadsword in a whirl of lightning motion, twisting it from Zwilt's grasp.

With his paws still stinging from Zwilt's first blow, Buckler glimpsed Aggrim thrusting his spearpoint down at Skipper, who was still half stunned. To distract the ferret, Buckler yelled the Long Patrol war cry.

"Eulaaaaaliiiaaa!"

He flung himself through the air, blade outstretched. Aggrim paused long enough to seal his own fate. He fell with the blade through him and Buckler on top of it.

Now Skipper was up. He threw his lance, which pierced

225

another Ravager at the exact moment that Axtel's war hammer snuffed out the foebeast's life.

Tassy wriggled free of the Warrior mole. Grabbing a stone, she hurled it at the fallen vermin. "Ooh, ye naughty wicked beast, take that!"

Axtel winked at the little Redwaller. "Thankee, likkle marm, but oi a'ready fixed 'im!"

Buckler scrambled upright. Retrieving his blade, he turned to reenter the fray, but it was all over. The four vermin guard were slain. And Zwilt the Shade had vanished--he was gone!

"Ahoy, mates, we're comin'! Logalogalogaloooooog!" Crashing through the ferns, Jango and Big Bartij came charging in. The Shrew Chieftain was disappointed.

"Yah, mudlumps, we've missed the battle!"

Sniffy staunched his shoulder wound with a clump of moss. "Aye, Chief, so ye did. Wot 'appened with the stoat'n'weasel?"

Jango slashed at the ferns with his rapier--he was not happy. "Hah, my one got away. Greasy-livered swab, I never knew stoats could run that fast. Took off like a duck with its bum afire, prob'ly still runnin'."

Skipper chuckled. "An' the other one, the weasel?"

Bartij was a simple soul. Toting a hefty oak limb, he explained apologetically, "He was tryin' to run me through with a spear, so I had t'stop him. Didn't think I hit him that hard, really." His homely face broke out in a smile as he spotted Tassy. "Hoho, lookit wot we got here--a Redwall Dibbun!"

Jango had found his little son, Borti. The pair of them were laughing and weeping, hugging each other fiercely.

Buckler smiled. "There's a happy sight for ye!"

Mumzy suddenly bustled in from the shrubbery. "A grand ould sight I'm sure, but 'twill look much better when ye clear them durty varmint carcasses away!"

Hiding his surprise, Buckler bowed. "Sorry about that, marm. We'll get right to it."

226

The water vole folded her paws firmly. "Sure, there'll not be a bite o' vittles for ye 'til this lot is floatin' downstream. Now, would I be wrong in sayin' that yore lookin' for more missin' babbies?"

Buckler touched his lips to her paw. "You'd be correct, m'dear. Pray, where might we find 'em?"

Mumzy smiled at Buckler, giving him a playful push, which almost sent him sprawling. "Ah, will ye lissen t'the silver tongue on that un? There's a creature wid manners for ye. Come on, then. Foller Mumzy an' we'll get ye fed an' acquainted wid the liddle mites."

Skipper gave her an elegant rudder salute. "We'd be forever in yore debt, me darlin'."

Mumzy dug an elbow into Jango's side, winding him. "Sure, an' there's another one born with his tongue in the honeypot. Well, flatter away, me fine friends, compliments are scarce these days fer an ould vole wife like meself!"

They followed her tortuous route, which twisted and turned until Sniffy scratched his head, declaring, " 'Tis a bloomin' wonder she doesn't git 'erself lost. I never seen a better-covered trail than this un, mates!"

On reaching the water vole's dwelling, they entered through the curtain of vegetation which masked it.

Guffy immediately hugged Skipper's rudder. "Oi knowed ee'd cumm furr us'n's, zurr. Oi wuz surrtin!"

Flib jibed the molebabe cheerfully, "Hah, that ain't wot yew was sayin' when we was locked up in that cave!"

Jango tried to hide his surprise at the sight of his daughter. "Petunia Rosebud, is that you?"

The rebellious Guosim maid stuck out her chin. "No, it ain't. It's Flib, see, me name's Flib!"

The Shrew Chieftain was equally stubborn. "Well, me an' yore ma named ye Petunia Rosebud. Huh, Flib sounds like some kind o' fish. 'Tain't a proper name for the daughter of a Log a Log."

Flib stood face-to-face with her father, eyes blazing. "Well, 'tis the name I gave meself, an' I like it, see!"

227

Jango was shaking from paw to tail. "Ye ... ye ... hard-faced young--"

Skipper stepped between them. "Ahoy mates, wot's all this? A fine pair you two are, bickerin' an arguin' like enemies. Wot's the matter with ye, eh? Jango, ain't you glad t'see yore daughter alive an' well? Flib, ye should be happy that yore pa came searchin' an' found ye!"