Brian Jacques - Redwall #22 - The Sable Quean

Buckler roared out in his best Salamandastron parade-ground voice, "On my command allbeasts will stand still. Haaaaalt!"

Jango, who was standing close to Buckler, remarked, "Well, that did the trick, mate. Ye could hear a pin drop in here. Proper dark, though, ain't it?"

Sparks flew, illuminating the caverns in a brief flash. It was Sniffy, striking his rapier blade across a flint.

"Stan' still, Guosim--I'll get a glim goin'... there!"

A pale little flame grew out of the tinder bag, which the resourceful Tracker always kept with him.

The Guosim shrews moved with admirable urgency, dashing outside and chopping branches from the dead lower limbs of an old spruce. The makeshift torches burned

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instantly, crackling as they cast light amidst the subterranean shadows.

Buckler shook his head. "I don't like it, Jango. Something's not right--there's no sign of anybeast down here!"

The Guosim Chieftain held up a paw. "Lissen, Buck, I can hear sounds comin' this way!"

Suddenly Diggs charged in, yelling, "Lights ahead, chaps! Give 'em blood'n'vinegar, follow m--"

He ground to a halt. "Er, er, what ho, you chaps--oof!"

The tubby hare was knocked flat from behind when Flib and the others came hurtling in. Diggs sat up, dusting himself off. "I say, steady on. Who told you to charge in like a flippin' shower o' madbeasts?"

Flib put the blame right where it belonged. "You did!"

Straightening his tunic, Diggs wagged a paw at her. "Well, just be a bit more jolly well careful in future--that's classed as assault on a leadin' officer, I'll have ye know!"

Axtel arrived after the charge, stumping in on his injured footpaw. The mole waved his hammer at Buckler. "Yurr, we'm b'ain't see'd nobeast. 'Tis vurry h'odd."

Jango shrugged. "Same here, mate. Buck, wot d'ye say we splits up into groups? That ways we can scour this place quicker, in case they're hidin' away."

The young hare agreed. "Good idea--right, Jango, Diggs, Axtel, Sniffy, myself and er ..."

He glanced around, noticing Flib standing to attention and putting on a brave face. "And Flib, you'll be group captains. Pick your teams, then get off in different directions. Make sure you search every corner o' this place. Go to it!"

Grakk had stayed at his post, listening on the other side of the blocked escape route. He heard Diggs passing through the former dungeon with his escort of searchers. The tubby hare did not linger long.

"Not a confounded thing in sight here, chaps, just another bloomin' cave. This Althier place is nothin' but a load

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of old caves'n'passages, wot. Come on, let's see where this passage leads to...."

Grakk stayed, listening until there was complete silence from outside. Then he scurried off to make his report. The Sable Quean was waiting at the edge of the water in the flooded section. One look at her furious face warned the weasel to be careful. He waited until she looked at him and asked, "Well?"

He swallowed hard. "Majesty, it's safe. They passed right by the place that we sealed up."

She turned away, snapping at a group of guards. "Get me over this water. Do you want me to wade through in my robes?"

A nervous ferret bowed low. "If'n you'd like to sit on this litter, we'll carry ye, Majesty."

A pile of spears, spaced out into a square, had been bound together. Wordlessly, Vilaya perched in the centre of the structure. Half a score of vermin lifted it carefully, then entered the water, with two more going ahead, to sound out the depth. As the other Ravagers waded in, one of them stiffened with fright at the big dead eel floating near the wall.

"Wot'n the name o' Hellgates is that?"

His companion, an older river rat, touched the limp body with his spearpoint. "It's a big dead fish. 'Twon't harm ye. Huh, ye can always tell Zwilt the Shade's passed through by the deadbeasts lyin' about."

His companion grimaced as he steered a course away from the horrifically slashed eel. "Aye, that's true enough. Death seems t'foller Zwilt."

The river rat continued grimly, "Take it from me, mate. Try t'stay out the way when Zwilt an' Vilaya meets up. That'll be a sight to see, an' make no mistake. Those two are bound to go head-to-head, an' we'll be left to foller the winner!"

His mate tried speculating as they ploughed through the dark icy water. "Who d'ye think'll come out on top?"

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The river rat shrugged. "Yore guess is good as mine!"

Torches and lanterns cast rippling eerie shadows on the damp tunnel walls as they advanced gingerly into the unknown. Hardened as he was to suffering and death, the river rat let out a horrified gurgle. He had stepped on something soft and slippery, lurching to one side as the mangled carcass of Lugg bobbed to the surface.

The stoat's body had been crushed by the maddened eel; Lugg's swollen tongue protruded obscenely. The river rat recovered himself sufficiently, hurrying ahead of his companion in a rush to be out of the other unknown horrors the water might conceal beneath its murky surface.

Zwilt by this time was back on dry ground, needing no damp pawprints to show the route of the fugitives. They only had one way to go in a tunnel, he reasoned. The tall sable had also been planning ahead, knowing whatever excuses he gave for the death of Dirva, he could expect no quarter from Vilaya. The old rat had been counsellor and confidante--almost a mother figure. Despite the way the Quean had treated her, she remained faithful only to Vilaya.

Zwilt pressed forward, touching the gold medallion around his neck. A good broadsword could outwit a small poisoned dagger. When he and Vilaya met, there would be only one left to command two hundred Ravagers. If he ever wished to attack and conquer Redwall Abbey, the survivor had to be him.

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22

Midda lifted the mousebabe down from her shoulders. She massaged the back of her neck, which was sore from carrying Diggla--he was never still for a moment. The shrewmaid faced the fork, which Jinty had told her of. Tura relinquished her passenger, looking from one tunnel to the other.

"The one on the right goes downward. The other goes up. Which one d'you think we should take?"

Midda answered promptly, "The one that goes up, of course. That'll prob'ly get us out of here."

The squirrelmaid was still contemplating both tunnels. "Aye, that was my first thought, an' that's what the vermin'il think, too. Mightn't the downhill one be better? They won't expect us t'go that way."

Jiddle interrupted. "That's what I was thinkin', but I don't like the look of the one that goes down. I'll wager we'd run into more water that way. It might be very deep, then where'd we be, eh?"

Little Diggla pushed his way past them, snorting. "You all talkin' shoopid--Diggla goes up!"

The sight of the tiny mousebabe trudging busily away caused Tura to chuckle. "He's right. Up's the only way to go. Come on, mates!"

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It soon became rather tiring trekking uphill. Jinty put Calla the harebabe down. "Come on, young un, time ye tried walkin', great sleepy lump, look at the size of you!"

Midda shook her head. "It'll slow us down if the youngest babes have to walk."

Jiddle allowed the other harebabe, Urfa, to slide down from her back. "Aye, an' if we keep carryin' 'em, it won't be long afore we're too tired to go any further. I vote we should all walk!"

Diggla nodded decisively. "All walk now. Looka me--I walk. Midda not have t'carry Diggla!"

The very small ones held paws, with Diggla at their centre. Jiddle and Jinty brought up the rear, urging them on with a simple chant.

"One two, one two, I will walk with you, put your paw down on the floor, now you've taken one step more.

One two, one two, keep on goin', me an' you.

Oh my, dearie me, what comes after one two? Three!