Brian Jacques - Redwall #22 - The Sable Quean

Mumzy picked up a half-finished chunk of turnover. "But wot about the liddle uns, Mister Buck?"

The young hare shook his head. "No sign of 'em yet, an' they weren't with the vermin, so we'll have to call off searchin' for 'em until after we've defended the Abbey. If'n either the young uns or Diggs turns up here, I've no doubt you'll take 'em in an' care for 'em, marm. We'll be indebted if y'do. Take care of yourself, friend!"

Buckler gave the water vole a swift salute with his blade and hurried off with Axtel and the Guosim.

Diggs was still wandering about in the caves and tunnels beneath the great oak. The plain fact was that the tubby hare was lost. He had become separated from the group he was searching with. Unwittingly, he had ambled into Vilaya's personal chamber, where he found some wine, a cooked trout and wheat bread, all intended for the Sable Quean's private consumption. Not wanting to share his find with

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the others, he settled down to a lucky repast, munching away and chunnering as he justified his actions.

"Bloomin' Guosim chaps wouldn't share it with me if they'd have found it, rotters! Well, yah boo, shrews, you can go an' blinkin' well whistle for your share. Mmmm, not too bad, if I say so m'self, rather tasty, in fact. Huh, this must be the officers' mess. Treat themselves pretty well, these vermin cads, wot. Oh, bother'n'blow, the confounded torch has gone out now!"

After trying unsuccessfully to blow the sparks back into flame, he did what he would normally do after a meal-- took a short nap.

Subaltern Meliton Gubthorpe Digglethwaite's idea of a short nap was rather lengthy. He woke in complete darkness and silence. Yawning and stretching, the portly young rogue felt his way out of the cave, calling to his fellow searchers for assistance.

"I say, buckoes, fetch a light here, if y'd be so kind?"

There was no response to his cries, which annoyed Diggs.

"Huh, dratted spiky-headed fiends, it's just like you t'leave a chap in the dark, an' it's prob'ly suppertime, too. Right, desert me. I don't jolly well care. Hah, but wait until I catch up with you, laddie bucks. I'll have a word or three t'say about comradeship an' all that. By the right, left'n'centre I will, believe me!"

How long he rambled through the darkened underworld of caves and tunnels, Diggs could not say. It was only by pure accident that he managed to find himself at the broken-down door in the big oak trunk. Diggs staggered out thankfully. "Ahah, good old fresh air again, wot!"

He heard a rustle in a nearby bush. Drawing his sling, Diggs loaded a heavy chunk of rock into it. He advanced on the bush, twirling his weapon purposefully.

"Front'n'centre, come on out an' face me, you lily-livered maggot. Yowoooh!"

A stone hit his slinging paw, causing him to drop it. A

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dark form thundered out of the brush, laying him flat with a mighty body charge. Diggs struggled to rise, but a footpaw, which felt like a stone shelf, held him pinned to the ground. He found himself staring up into the fierce brown eyes of a large, powerful badgermaid. She was twirling a sling twice the size of the weapon he carried. It was loaded with a boulder. She growled menacingly, "Tell me where my friend is, and I might allow you to live!"

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23

Moonless night had settled over the watermeadow. The young beasts were huddled together sleeping soundly. Midda and the Witherspyk twins were wide awake. They lay stomach down, scanning the darkened landscape.

Jiddle murmured, "What's keepin' Tura? She's been gone for ages."

Jinty rubbed her eyes. "Well, she's prob'ly searchin' around the island, right, Midda?"

The Guosim maid nodded. "Aye, first she's got to find where old bees in the bonnet has his den. That's where he'll have taken Diggla. Mad ole beast like that, 'twouldn't surprise me if'n he made his nest up in a tree, like a bird. Jiddle's right, though, Tura's been gone a long time now. Too long for my likin'."

"Shall we go an' search for her?"

Midda rejected Jiddle's suggestion. "No. It might cause confusion, an' if the babes wake to find us gone, they'll bawl the place down. Hush, now, I thought I heard somethin'...."

Triggut's wild laughter caused them to jump with surprise. "Hahaaarrhaaaarrr! Heard somethin'? So yew did, but don't fret, 'twas only me. Here's yer liddle bushytail friend. Yew kin have 'er back this time...."

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Tura, gagged, bound and stunned, was flung into the captives' camp. When Triggut called out of the darkness again, his temperament had changed. Now the mad hog was irate and threatening. "Next time yew try any clever tricks, I'll send yore mouseybabe back to yew. His ears first, then his tail an' snout. Maybe the followin' night yew'll get his paws an' tongue. Do I make meself clear?"

A groan of defeat came from Midda. "Alright, we understand--it won't happen again!"

With a final burst of insane merriment, Triggut skipped blithely off into the night.

Jinty Witherspyk loosed the squirrelmaid of her gag and bonds, bathing her face with some cool water. Tura was totally miserable.

"You wouldn't believe it, but that crazy creature has a crew of toads guarding him. I was creepin' up to his den, when suddenly they were all over me. Yurgh! Damp, slimy beasts, they sat on me an' croaked until the madbeast came runnin' an' cracked me over the head with his staff. Then he tied me up like an ole bundle o' washin'. I thought he was goin' to kill me!"

Midda inspected the bruise on Tura's brow. "But he didn't. You'll live. Did you get to catch sight of little Diggla?"

Tura shook her head. "I never even got into Triggut's den. Well, wot's our next move, mates?"

Jiddle Witherspyk yawned wearily. "I dunno. Just sit an' wait, I s'pose. Wot else can we do, eh?"

His twin sister agreed glumly. "Not a lot. Triggut Frap might act crazy, but he's certainly outsmarted us."

Midda stared at both young hogs in disgust. "Defeated already, are we? Seasons o' slutch, you two should hear yoreselves. Ye make me feel ashamed to know ye!"

Tura shot her friend a reproving glance. "They're right, though. We ain't got much to sing'n'dance about, now, have we?"

The Guosim maid glared at all three, launching into a

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scathing diatribe, which brooked no argument. "Where were we a day ago, eh? Locked up in an underground cave, all dark'n'gloomy We were eatin' slop an' drinkin' dirty water. Vermin with spears were standin' over us. One of our mates, a fine young otter, was murdered by that Sable Quean. So tell me, wot did ye have for supper tonight? Fresh fruit an' berries, with clean water t'drink. An' where are we now? I'll tell ye! Out in the open air, under the stars on a summer night, without vermin watchin' every move we make. Hah, lookit yore faces! Oh, poor ole us, ain't we the unlucky ones, still alive an' kickin'. It ain't right, I tell ye. Shouldn't we all be dead like poor Flandor? Huh, you lot make me sick!"

Tura had taken enough. She stood snout-to-snout with Midda, giving the Guosim a piece of her mind. "An' you make me sick, with all yore shoutin' an' yellin'. Who do ye think ye are, scraggymouse?"

Midda bristled. "I know who I am--a Guosim shrew, ye jumped-up bushtailed boughbender!"

Jiddle and Jinty rubbed their paws gleefully. They sensed an insult bout starting, so they called encouragement to the pair.

"Don't let her call ye that, Tura. Tell Midda wot ye think of her, go on!"

That started the contest in earnest. They stood paw-to-paw, hurling insults at one another.

"Ho ho, boughbender, is it? Ye wet-bottomed water-wobbler!"

"Hah, listen to ole weasel whiskers the nutnibbler!"

"Huh, I'll bet ye wish ye had a real tail, an' not a damp piece o' string, Guosimguts!"

"If'n I had a tail like that thing o' yores, I'd hire it out to sweep dusty caves!"