Brian Jacques - Redwall #22 - The Sable Quean

Log a Log Jango put up his rapier. "Nor the vermin. They've vanished, gone, disappeared!"

Axtel Sturnclaw held up a huge digging claw. "You'm a-wanten oi shudd go back in thurr, an' search agin, zurr? Us'ns may've missed summat."

Buckler shook his head. "I can't see there's much point. What d'you think, Jango?"

The Shrew Chieftain affirmed his friend's view. "We rooted that place out from top t'bottom. Sniffy couldn't find 'em, an' if'n he can't, then nobeast can. Right, Sniff?"

The Tracker assented wearily. "Right, Chief. Oh, they've been there, but the stink o' vermin, burnt torches an' all those pawprints overrun by ours--no, sir, 'tis no use goin' through those caves an' passages agin. They've fled the place for sure!"

Buckler's quick mind was racing as Sniffy spoke. He formed a swift plan and gave out orders. "Then we search the woodlands for a half day's march all around. Axtel, Jango, take a group of Guosim apiece. I'll lead the rest. Where's the best place to meet up again?"

"That ole Mumzy vole's place. We all knows how t'find it."

Buckler clapped the Tracker's shoulder. "Good idea, Sniffy. Let's get on the move--the longer we hang about, the further away they'll get. Right!"

Zwilt the Shade paced the streambank. His scouts had tracked the fugitives that far, but there the trail ended. The tall sable watched anxiously as two river rats came hurrying from different directions along the stream's edge. He pawed at his broadsword hilt. "Well?"

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The rats were of the same opinion. "No signs of 'em on the stream, Lord."

"They could've gone either way, up or down!"

Zwilt called across to another three on the opposite side. "Any traces over that way?"

A stoat who had swum across waved his paws. "Lord, they never went this way!"

Hearing a twig crack in the woodlands at his back, Zwilt turned, blade at the ready. The Sable Quean emerged from a sheltering beech trunk. Her eyes betrayed nothing, though her voice was heavy with contempt.

"The great Commander Zwilt can't even find some runaway babes, it seems."

Zwilt moved as she came forward, not wanting Vilaya any closer to him. "I'll find them. 'Tis only a matter of time. You can return to Althier and await my arrival with the prisoners."

She replied almost casually. "When I left Althier, it was teeming with Guosim warriors. Forget Althier--we can no longer return there. So, what are your plans now, or are you ready for further orders from me?"

Vilaya took a step forward, but Zwilt took a pace back. His long blade swished as it cut the air keenly.

"Stand where you are--come no further!"

Danger crackled on the air like forked lightning. The Ravager army spaced themselves out, staying clear of any confrontation between their leaders.

Vilaya chuckled humorlessly. "Quite a time you've had, Zwilt. I followed you and what did I find along the way? My old friend Dirva, a monster eel and one of your beasts, the big stoat Lugg, all dead. Very careless of you!"

The tall sable's dark eyes flashed briefly. "I am used to death in my trade. Stay! Come no closer, Vilaya. My blade is longer than your poisoned toy."

The Sable Quean opened her paws to show she was unarmed. "I see you no longer call me Majesty. Remember,

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Zwilt, I could have stolen up on you. The snake can strike swiftly, you know."

She began circling sideways, her paw reaching for the tiny dagger. Zwilt's swordpoint followed her every move.

"It would have to be a brave snake to take its chance with me. Remember, Vilaya, I am not some slow, thickheaded vermin. Now, do ye wish to challenge me?"

The Sable Quean knew she could not. She had witnessed Zwilt the Shade's bladework. It was only the unsuspecting that she could take advantage of. She tried another tack.

"It is foolish quarrelling amongst ourselves when we should be concentrating on recapturing those young ones and using them as a lever to defeat Redwall."

Zwilt kept her menaced with his bladepoint as she inched almost imperceptibly forward. He sneered. "The foolishness was in your ridiculous plan to take that Abbey by stealing some babes. Well, I went along with it for a while, but no longer. Look around you, Vilaya. There are two hundred warriors, armed and trained for battle. With me to command them, Redwall will be conquered by invasion. War is the only sure thing to decide a victory."

Raising his blade, he called to the Ravager army, "My warriors, are you with me?"

That was when the Sable Quean made her move.

Vilaya sprang at Zwilt. Sidestepping her, he thrust the broadsword in a blurring flash. The point was protruding from the back of her cloak. The blade was withdrawn as fast as it had struck. Vilaya staggered, openmouthed, clutching the regal purple cloak about her. She looked from the rapidly spreading stain on its silken folds, to Zwilt.

Vilaya gasped in a halting voice, "Y-you ... have ... s-slain ... a ... Quean!"

She toppled forward, facedown on the streambank.

Zwilt placed a footpaw upon his fallen foe. "Now let us conquer the Abbey of Redwall!"

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Spears, blades and various weapons were raised as the vermin horde yelled aloud, "Zwilt! Zwilt! Zwilt the Shaaaaaade!"

A smile of triumph lit up the tall sable's saturnine features. He raised the broadsword, intending to behead the Sable Quean, but halted as he felt somebeast tugging at his cloak. It was the ferret Gliv.

" 'Twould be a bad omen to cut her again, Lord. Let me bury this so-called Sable Quean here on the bank. I'll bury her deep, where worms will feed on her carcass--'tis all she deserves. Vilaya, ruler of worms, beetles and insects, she can feed her subjects!"

The tall sable stayed his sword paw. "Aye, Gliv, we'll never know how many of them she can kill with her little poisoned dagger. Bury her where the earth is cold and damp."

Log a Log Jango and Axtel Sturnclaw, along with their patrols, sat with their footpaws in the cooling streamwater, outside of the water vole's home. Mumzy bustled about, replenishing their platters with weighty portions of her damson and apple turnover. She shook her head sadly.

"An' ye didn't find any o' those liddle uns out there. Sure, I wonder where the pore babbies have got to?"

Jango washed the turnover down with some elderflower cordial. "We ain't found 'em yet, marm, but soon as we've fed our faces an' cooled our paws, we'll be off lookin' for 'em agin, ye can take my word for that!"

Axtel was already up and alert, testing his wounded limb. "Yurr, ee streamwatter bee's gurtly coolen, moi ole futtpaw's ready t'go agin, marm."

"Ahoy, the camp--friends comin' in!"

Jango shielded his eyes, peering to where the shout had come from. "It's Buckler an' his crew. Looks like they ain't had much luck either, though they're comin' pretty fast."

Buckler and his followers were breathing heavily. Jango moved along the bankside.

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"Looks like ye've been coverin' some ground, mate. Here, siddown an' cool yore paws. Try some o' Miz Mimzy's vittles. She can bake a fair ole turnover."

The young hare remained standing, gathering his breath. "No time for that, Jango--we nearly ran into the full pack o' Ravagers back there. Lucky they never saw us, but they're on the move, an' that Zwilt beast is leadin' 'em. They're headed for Redwall, we heard the shouts. Get Diggs an' the rest. We've got t'get back to the Abbey, double quick!"

Casting aside his empty plate, the Guosim Chieftain stamped streamwater from his footpaws.

"Ravagers marchin' on Redwall, ye say? Form up an' move out, Guosim, there's no time t'waste! Er, about Diggs, he ain't with us. I thought he was with you, Buck?"

Buckler looked distracted for a moment, then he sighed. "Well, he ain't. I haven't clapped eyes on Diggs since we were searchin' the caves at Althier. Well, Diggs'll have to look out for himself. We can't stop now--got t'go!"