Brian Jacques - Redwall #22 - The Sable Quean

The tubby young hare shrugged. "I know what I'd like to jolly well do, but I also know what I've bloomin' well got to do. Forward the buffs, true blue an' never fail. On to Redwall, posthaste!"

Mumzy threw a few things into a small flour bag. "Here, now, take these t'help ye on yore way. 'Tis only an' ould chestnut'n'mushroom bake an' a bite of blackberry tart, but 'twill keep ye goin'!"

Diggs grabbed the bag. "Grateful t'ye, marm, but what about those little blighters?"

The motherly water vole smiled fondly at the young ones. "Ah, don't fret yore fur about the babbies. They'll come t'no harm with me. Sure, I'd keep 'em for good if'n I could. Just do what ye've got t'do, then send for 'em whenever 'tis safe t'do so. Go now, an' may kind breezes be ever at yore backs an' fortune smile kindly on ye!"

Ambrevina was immediately off, though Diggs lingered a moment as Mumzy told her young guests what she was planning for their lunch. "Right, me liddle darlin's, how'd ye fancy a honeynut tart with hot arrowroot sauce, some raspberry cordial an' a fine ould bowl of apple'n'pear crumble?"

Diggs gritted his teeth as he climbed to the bank top.

330

"Lucky blighters. Serves 'em right if they scoff too flippin' much an' end up with tummyache, wot!"

Ambrevina had to wait for Diggs to catch up. "Which way to Redwall?"

He took the lead. "Follow me, Ambry, old gel. By the left, though, you look jolly keen for a crack at the vermin, wot?"

Keeping hot on his footpaws, the badgermaid hastened him on. "I just want to catch up with those who murdered my friend Flandor. Can't you go any faster?"

The gluttonous hare fed on pawfuls of food from the flour bag as he panted forward. "You've prob'ly heard that hares are built for speed. Well, not this bloomin' chap, I can tell you. My pal Buck can deal with the vermin until we arrive--he's a Blademaster, y'know. There's him, Jango, Skipper, Axtel, Bartij an' absolute scads o' Guosim shrews an' useful Redwallers. They're sure t'keep a firm paw on things 'til we arrive. I say, d'you want any o' this tucker, Ambry? Jolly tasty stuff, wot!"

Ambrevina cast a jaundiced eye over the mixed mess of congealed chestnut and mushroom bake mingling with blackberry tart. "Aye, give it t'me, will you?"

Diggs reluctantly passed the bag to her. "Have a bite or two, but leave some for a famished young chap--share an' share alike, wot wot?"

She flicked the lot off into the undergrowth. "This is not the time for meals. We'll eat when we get to Redwall Abbey. Now, shake a paw, will you!"

Diggs increased his pace, knowing it would be unwise to argue with a badger of his companion's size. However, that did not stop him chunnering to himself. "Huh, shameful waste, that's what 'tis. Chuckin' good scoff away to the blinkin' insects. By the left, if my old mess sergeant caught y'doin' that, marm, you'd be on a real fizzer, quarter season in the bloomin' guardhouse. Hah, an' you'd richly deserve it!"

They passed on, leaving the half-finished bag of food

331

hanging from a bramble in the undergrowth. A scrawny paw reached out and retrieved it.

Gliv clutched the bag to her, crawling back through the bushes to where Vilaya lay resting.

The sable's glittering eyes watched the stoat keenly. "Who was that passing by? What did you steal from them?"

Gliv sat down just out of reach. She began eating from the bag. "It was just one of those rabbets an' a big stripe-dog. From wot they was sayin', I think they're bound for that Abbey. Looks like Zwilt will have a fight on his paws if'n 'e has t'face the stripedog. She was big--looked like a fighter t'me."

The injured Sable Quean was inching closer. "And they gave you those vittles?"

Gliv stuffed a pawful of Mumzy's food down, licking her blackberry-stained mouth. " 'Course they never gave me it. The stripedog slung it away, said they didn't 'ave time fer meals."

Holding her wounded side, Vilaya rolled rapidly over, seizing the bag from Gliv. Casting aside any pretence to daintiness, she wolfed the remainder down. "Go and find me some water. I'm thirsty."

The stoat sneered. "Feelin' better, are we? Ye'll soon be up an' about. I thought you was gonna die for a while back there."

Vilaya stood up, leaning against a sycamore. "No time for dying. I've got a score to settle!"

Gliv grinned coldly. "Huh, so have we both!"

332

27

Seeing his friends with their backs to the west wallgate, illuminated by the shafts of firelight, Skipper roared out the order. "Open the gates! Everybeast to the entrance! Quick!"

The main entrance was pulled open in a trice. Ducking down, Buckler, Bartij, Jango and the Guosim crew retreated hurriedly inside. The defenders hurled a salvo of javelins, rocks and slingstones at the advancing Ravagers. Temporarily blinded by the sudden burst of light from the bonfire in the open gateway, the vermin were taken by surprise. They scattered both ways along the path, seeking to avoid the onslaught of missiles, some slipping backward into the ditch.

Zwilt lashed about him with the flat of his broadsword, yelling hoarsely, "Forward! Forward! Keep going, can't you see the gates are open? Forward! Chaaaaarge!"

Something struck his blade like a thunderbolt. It flew out of his grasp, over the ditch, onto the flatland. Zwilt the Shade was strong--he was also fast and agile. However, the tall sable was not about to face the hefty hammer-wielding mole who had disarmed him so savagely.

Knowing instantly that the attempt had failed, Zwilt leapt the ditch in a single bound, calling out, "Retreat! Back, Ravagers, back! Retreat!"

333

Blinded by the firelight and assailed by slingstones from the gateway and walltops, the vermin were only too ready to obey their commander. They fled westward to where the sessile oak trunk lay abandoned outside their camp.

Now that Zwilt had regained his blade, the need for secrecy and concealment was over. He squatted down by the fire his vermin were building. The weasel Fallug, whom he had promoted to captain, knelt alongside him, nursing a swollen jaw--a stone had hit him.

"Wot next, Lord? Do we still use the batterin' ram?"

The tall sable blinked as he stared at the fire. "As soon as it's ready. We'll charge those gates and smash them, in daylight if we have to. There'll be no mistake a second time, I swear it!"

Abbess Marjoram came to the main outer gate. Skirting the fire, she sought out the defenders, congratulating them. "Thank you, friends. 'Twas a brave thing you did here."

Granvy wiped his face with a clump of dewy grass. "Good idea that fire, eh, Jango?"

The Guosim Log a Log crouched down by a gatepost. "A masterstroke, I'll grant ye. Though if'n ye hadn't got the gates open when ye did, we'd have been slaughtered out there. Sniffy, how many did we lose?"

The Tracker wiped smoke from his bleary gaze. "Two slain, four wounded, Chief. I was goin' to check south down the path, but that berserk mole's still out there. Nothin'll stop that un--Axtel will smash anybeast wot stands in his path!"

Buckler put up his long rapier. "That's how Bloodwrath works, mate. We'll just have to hope he comes to his senses. Marm, stop, where are ye goin'?"

The Abbess had walked out onto the path. "Stay where you are, everybeast. I'll deal with this."

Jango started after her, but Sister Fumbril drew him back. "Marjoram knows what she's about, sir, trust me!"

334

Skipper nodded. "Do as the Sister says, matey, an' trust our Mother Abbess. That goes for all of ye. Now, how about dampin' this blaze down. We could be sittin' targets stannin' in the firelight!"

The blaze was subdued with a bit of effort. Some of the embers were pushed into the open ditch, some scattered to the inside wall, the rest were damped down with water from the Abbey pond. Dawn was streaking the sky when Abbess Marjoram passed through the gateway, ordering Foremole Darbee and Cellarmole Gurjee to close and lock the doors. Axtel was limping alongside her. She was giving him advice on his wounded footpaw.