Brian Jacques - Redwall #22 - The Sable Quean

Mumzy chipped in. "Sure, ain't it the truth? Huh, ye should be ashamed o' yerselves, carryin' on like two starlin's over a worm. An' wot for, pray? Does it matter whether she's called Peculiar Nosebud, Flibbity Jib, or Wifflesplotch? Get some sense into yore thick 'eads. Come here!"

Grabbing both shrews, the water vole thrust them together. "Flib, he's yore da an' yore his daughter. Jango, she's yore blood kin, so act like a proper father t'the maid. Now, give each other a big kiss, or ye'll both feel the back o' me paw. Go on!"

Jango was still carrying Borti, who got squeezed between them both and uttered his first full word. "Gerroff!"

Father and daughter started laughing at the ridiculous situation. Jango kissed her, then tweaked her snout.

"Righto, Flib it is, then, ye disobedient wretch!"

Wiping tears from her eyes, Flib pinched Jango's cheek hard. "Log a Log Jango Bigboat, ye grumpy ole Guosim!"

The exchange seemed to clear the air, but no food was forthcoming until Skipper and Big Bartij disposed of the slain vermin in the fast-flowing stream. Whilst they were away, Mumzy, who was well versed in most things, treated the wounded with her own homemade remedies.

"Now then, Sniffy, me ould tater, grit yore teeth an' be brave. Aye, an' you, too, big molebeast, though I can't see you cryin' out in pain, warrior that ye are."

Axtel held up his footpaw. "Ee likkle Tassymaid fixed et up, marm, but if'n it bein' not to yore loikin' then doo's wot ee must!"

Mumzy made two evil-smelling poultices, which she

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laid on bark and moss. The water vole placed them over the fire until they were steaming, then applied them to the wounds of each creature. Passing Tassy some woven grass strands, she patted her back.

"Bind 'em up now, missy, like a grand ould healer!" When they were treated and Skipper returned with Bartij, Mumzy served them with huge bowls of what she termed Streamabye Stew. It went down well with chestnut bread and pear'n'apple cordial.

As they supped, Buckler said the words they were waiting to hear. "Right, friends. It's a Council of War!" He went straight to Axtel. "This place that you rescued the young uns from, could you find it again, sir?"

The Warrior mole left no room for doubt. "Burr, h'oi surr-pintly cudd, zurr. 'Tis unner a gurt ole h'oaky tree--"

Skipper interrupted. "A massive, big thing? Maybe four-topped, would ye say?"

Axtel nodded. "Aye, that ud be et. 'Tis filled wi' tunnels an' caves unnerneath. They'm gotten ee likkle uns thurr."

Skipper's powerful rudder slapped the ground hard. "I've seen it afore, I'm sure of it. Aye, an' I reckon I could find it agin, Buck!"

Jango turned to his daughter. "How many vermin have they got down there, Flib?"

The shrewmaid put aside her drink. "There's quite a few. I've counted a score or more different ones, rats, ferrets, weasels. I s'pose they come an' go. But there's two that's always there, a nasty liddle ole rat an' the one called Sable Quean. She's real evil an' scary. I was frightened of 'er."

Buckler nodded. "From what I've seen of her, I can understand ye bein' fearful. Did ye see any other beasts down there? Think."

Flib nodded. "Aye, I saw the tall one who carries the big sword. Zwilt, that's his name. I think he's some sort o' chief, though the Quean is the mighty one. I 'eard the liddle rat callin' her that."

Buckler looked pensive. "Hmm, so there's a score or

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more Ravagers down there--say about thirty--an' you say y'could find the place, Skip?"

The Otter Chieftain pawed at his javelin. "Pretty sure I could, matey. Are ye plannin' a move on the vermin, some sort o' lightnin' strike?"

The young hare smiled grimly. " 'Tis a nice thought, but there's only six of us. Well, four an' two wounded. Goin' up against thirty of 'em, I think we'd be on a loser."

Jango growled, "I know you've got some kind o' plan, Buck--come on, out with it."

Buckler looked at the eager faces of his friends. "Think about this. If'n there's thirty down there, well, they've got another hundred an' seventy to call upon. You saw them when they came to Redwall. There was at least tenscore, an' they all seemed like seasoned fightin' vermin."

Bartij scratched his headspikes. "So yore tellin' us it can't be done, Buck?"

The Blademaster held up his paws. "I never said that, but how's this for a plan of action: Axtel, could you dig a way back into Althier?"

The big mole replied without hesitation. "Ho aye, zurr. Oi cuddent be a-diggen too farst wi' this paw oi moine, but oi cudd do et."

Buckler patted Axtel's huge paw, then turned to Jango. "An' how many fightin' Guosim have ye got to paw?"

The Log a Log slapped his rapier hilt. "Threescore, mate, an' every one a proper battler, ready an' willin' at my command!"

Mumzy dished out more of her tasty Streamabye Stew, serving Buckler an extra-large portion. "Sure, an' aren't you the canny beast? I likes the sound of yore plan. Carry on, Bucko!"

Buckler smiled. "Thankee, marm. Now, the first thing is to get these young uns back to the Abbey. Once they're safe, we can move fast, 'cos that'll be the plan. Like you said, Skip, a lightning strike, quick'n'hard!"

Mumzy interrupted. "Quick'n'hard, is it? Well, ye won't

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be so swift wid two ould wounded beasts in tow. I'll look after Sniffy an' Axtel 'til ye get back in full force." She cast a glance at the Dibbuns. "Ah, 'tis a pity they'll be goin' with ye. I likes the liddle babbies. Don't suppose there's any chance one of 'em could stay here with an ould volewife? It'd be grand fun, an' I'd feed the mite well."

Skipper gave Mumzy a hug. "It ain't possible, marm, but when this is all over, ye can come an' live at our Abbey. There's enough babes t'keep anybeast busy for ten seasons! Right then, mates, shall we get movin'?"

They were soon underway, with Skipper in the lead. Mumzy pressed small parcels of goodies upon the young ones. "Here now, me darlin's, there's a few slices of me grandest plum cake. That'll keep ye goin' 'til ye get back home. I'll see ye agin when I comes to yore fine Abbey t'live!"

Jango sat baby Borti on his shoulders, and Buckler slung Guffy up on his back.

Flib muttered to Buckler as they jogged through the woodlands, "I'll be comin' back with ye for this lightnin' raid. I ain't sittin' round Redwall with a pile of babes an' gossipin' mothers."

Jango had overheard his daughter. "So, you'll be takin' part in the attack, will ye?" Flib stared bleakly at her father. She seemed several seasons older all of a sudden. "Aye, I will!"

Jango nodded. "Then I suppose ye will!"

There was no way that Midda could keep the other captives totally quiet. Most of them were chattering away, all agog with what might lie behind the crack at the rear of the cave wall. One or two even ventured to the entrance of the rift, trying to peer in and maybe catch a glimpse of Tura. Midda drew the smallest babes close to her. She hummed tunes softly, rocking back and forth, hoping they would drop off.

Jiddle and Jinty began calling into the rocky fissure, in what they imagined were furtive undertones.

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"Tura, can ye hear us? What's it like in there?"

"Aye, ye can tell us--have y'found a way out?"

A harsh vermin voice made them jump with fright. "Wot's goin' on in 'ere? Wot's all the shoutin' about?"

The fat stoat guard, who had wakened, eyed them blearily. Jiddle and Jinty approached him, trying to look innocent.

"We were only playin', sir."

"Aye, 'cos we couldn't sleep, sir."

The stoat glared at them. He was not in a good mood. "Oh, playin' were ye, 'cos ye couldn't sleep? Well, I can sleep, see. I'm bone tired, an' it was yore playin' wot woke me up. Now, any more noise outta youse two, an' we'll play a little game called Beat the Hogs!" He waved his spearhaft at the young Witherspyk hedgehogs. "So just wake me agin, ye spiky brats, just one peep outta any of youse, an' I'll bring ye out in blood blisters!"