Brian Jacques - Redwall #22 - The Sable Quean

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Axtel tugged his snout politely. "Doan't ee wurry, marm. Oi'll see et woan't bee wasted, hurr hurr, oi surr-tingly will!"

Sunlight and shade dappled the noontide woodlands as Sniffy breathed in the sweet-scented Mossflower air. He stood with his snout quivering appreciatively, glad to be back out in the open.

"Yore ma named ye right when she called ye Sniffy!"

The Tracker turned swiftly to find Jango leaning on a sycamore watching him. The Guosim Chieftain waved a paw behind him.

"Afore ye ask, I've brought 'em all with me, threescore strong an' armed to the teeth!"

Sniffy saw the rest of his comrades break cover, along with Buckler and Diggs, who winked at him.

"Threescore an' two, actually, if you'll pardon me con-tradictin' your jolly old Logaface. Well, now, Sniffers, totally recovered, are we?"

Sniffy smiled. "As good as ever, Mister Diggs!"

Jango remarked sourly to Buckler, "Tell that lard barrel mate o' your'n that if he ever calls me Logaface agin, he'll be wearin' that liddle bobtail of his as a hat!"

Mumzy was all of a-fluster as the mob of shrews tried to crush into her dwelling.

"O, sweet seasons, are ye sure you've brought enough help along? There ain't enough o' me fine soup to dish out t'this lot!"

Buckler bowed gallantly. "Thank ye for carin' for the wounded, marm. There won't be time to sit about suppin' soup, though. We've got serious business to attend to, an' swiftly!"

Axtel pulled himself upright, thrusting the war hammer into his belt. "Aye, you'm roight, zurr. Let's uz bee goin'!"

Log a Log Jango saluted the water vole. "We'll drop by t'see ye here when this is over, darlin'."

Mumzy wiped her paws on her apron. She stroked

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Flib's cheek fondly. "You take good care o' this young un. I would, if'n I had a daughter like her."

Jango smiled. "I'll do that, marm. Right, Guosim, move out quick'n'quiet, now."

Flib brought up the rear with Sniffy and Diggs.

Axtel stumped along in front with Jango and Buckler.

The young hare questioned him as they went stealthily through the silent sunlit woodlands. "You've been inside Althier, so you know what it's like, Axtel. What do ye think would be the best way for us to attack the place?"

The Warrior mole had been thinking of a strategy whilst he was laid up in Mumzy's home. "If'n you'm splitten yore h'army en two 'arfs, 'twould be ee best plan, zurr. Oi'll take wun lot wi' me, daown ee tunnel whurr I cummed out of. You'm an' Jango take ee h'uthers in by ee frunt door. Hurr, 'twill h'ambush yon vurmints frum both soides."

Buckler nodded. "Sounds like a good plan t'me--what d'ye say, Log a Log?"

Jango was in agreement, with one condition: "Aye, I'll go along with it, providin' that Axtel takes that nuisance Diggs with his lot."

At the rear of the column, Diggs was having his usual fit of chunnering. "Huh, the least we could've done back there was to stop for lunch, wot. Rank bad form t'just go chargin' off like that, an' on a bloomin' empty stomach, t'boot. That flamin' Logawotsisname, no manners at all, y'know."

Flib nudged him sharply in the ribs. "Watch yer mouth, flopears. That's my dad yore talkin' about. He's a chieftain, a Log a Log of Guosim, an' don't you forget it, see!"

Diggs grinned mischievously. "Oh, is he indeed? Well, hoity-toity marm, an' pardon me t'blue blazes! Is that why you jolly well run away from home, 'cos he was such a capital chap, wot?"

Flib countered, "Well, it wasn't him who refused to stop an' eat. It was yore pal Buck, so wot d'ye say t'that?"

The tubby hare answered blithely, "Oh, that's just Buck.

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He's always doin' things like that. A stout friend an' true, but he hasn't got a grain o' sense when it comes to vit-tlin'. Needs me t'keep him on a steady course, if y'know what I mean. By the way, did ye happen t'smell that soup? Mmmm, leek an' celery, with just a smidgeon o' mint an' wild ramsons. Jolly good cook, that Mumzy lady!"

Flib admitted ruefully, "Aye, I could've scoffed a bowl or two o' that. Nothin' like a drop o' good 'omemade soup. Maybe she'll have the cauldron on when we go there agin, eh, Diggs?"

The tubby hare cheered up. "There's a thought t'keep a chap goin' through the dark task ahead, eh, wot!"

Late noon shadows were lengthening when Axtel told Jango to order a halt. They crouched down in the shrubbery within sight of the massive ancient oak.

The mole pointed with his war hammer. "Thurr she'm bee's yonder, zurrs!"

Buckler drew his long blade. "There should be some kind of entrance--a gap or a door in that tree. Right, me'n' Jango will take our gang closer an' wait on you. Where's Diggs?"

"Here, sah, ever willin' an' able!"

Buckler patted his friend's shoulder. "Listen, mate, you go down the hole last. Before you do, give me the old grass-blade signal!"

He turned to Jango. "I'll count to threescore when we hear from Diggs. That'll give Axtel an' his lot time t'get well in. Then we hit the opening hard an' attack from the entrance. Make our way toward one another, moppin' up any vermin on the way. We should have 'em on the run by then. That'll be the time to find the little uns an' get clear o' the place. Right!"

Buckler winced as Axtel's huge paw grasped his. "Gudd fortune go with ee, zurr. Yurr's to ee safe returnen of ee babbies!"

The young hare extricated his numbed paw. "Thank you, friend--an' luck be with you also!"

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Sniffy crept forward. He made a circuit of the big oak before reporting back. "There's a nice liddle door leadin' in there. I couldn't stop t'see if'n it was locked, though."

Jango looked up from sharpening his small shrew rapier. "I don't think we'll be botherin' to look for a key, eh, Buck?"

Buckler chuckled. "No, mate. We'll knock just the once-- a mighty big knock!"

They settled down to wait in silence.

Axtel soon located his former exit from Althier. He rummaged around with strong paws, and soon had a hole big enough to admit two at a time. The thirty Guosim vanished down the hole promptly.

Diggs waited until the last shrew had gone, then plucked a broad blade of grass. Folding it a certain way, he locked it tight between both paws and blew hard. A loud, piercing noise, like that of a hunting hawk, rang out sharp and clear. Then it was Diggs's turn to disappear down the opening.

Buckler and Jango heard the signal. The young hare began counting slowly to sixty. "One ... two ... three ..." Jango murmured to his Guosim warriors, "Draw yore weapons an' wait on my word!"

The first streaks of twilight appeared in the sky. Somewhere off to the west, a few descending skylarks could be heard warbling as they came to earth. Paws gripped sword hilts tightly, jaws clenched, eyes narrowed; the Guosim crouched, waiting for the count to end. Buckler stuck to the plan, murmuring off the numbers steadily, neither slowing nor speeding up.

"Fifty-seven ... fifty-eight... fifty-nine ... sixty!"

The war cries mingled as they charged the door. "Loga-logalogalooooog! Eulaliiiiaaaaaaa!"

Midda and Tura were wakened from their brief nap by the sounds of splashing and shouting coming from the flooded area.

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The Guosim maid commented tersely, "Looks like those stinkin' vermin are back on our tails. Grab the little uns an' let's get goin', mate!"

The babes were quickly roused. They went willingly, their frightened little faces showing starkly in the lantern light.

Tura shouldered the awkward, leggy harebabes, grunting under the effort. "I wish you two would hurry up an' learn to hop along without fallin' flat on yore faces. Anyhow, where've Jiddle'n'Jinty gone to? They should've been back by now."

As if on cue, a light appeared down the tunnel. It was the young Witherspyk hogs, carrying their torch. Immediately they heard the noise of the vermin.