Brian Jacques - Redwall #21 - Doomwyte

It was a rough and tortuous tunnel, twisting and dipping unexpectedly. Sometimes the walls were natural rock, but mostly they were earth, with roots of trees protruding downward. In places, the going was wet and sloppy, where stream- or springwater seeped through.

Bosie and Samolus led the way, with Bisky, Dwink and Umfry following. Skipper Rorgus and Foremole Gullub were rear guard. Holding their lanterns, they pressed onward into the narrow world of looming shadows and hanging roots.

It was Skipper who posed the question: “Ahoy, mateys, ye don’t mind me askin’, but have we got any clues t’go on?”

Foremole chuckled gruffly. “Hurhurr, et do sounds loike ee gudd question, zurrs, elsewhoise we’m bees a-wunderin’ willy an’ nilly!”

Bosie halted at a spot where the passage widened a bit. “Let’s halt here an’ see what we’ve got. You young uns, recite the poem again tae us.”

Dwink recited the lines, slowly and clearly.

Samolus scratched his chin. “We’ve been through most o’ that, ’twas all about the door an’ the key, that’s been solved. Give me the last four lines, Dwink, maybe they mean somethin’.”

The young squirrel recited:

“That’s a good place to begin.

What connects a front and back,

find one, and just three you’ll lack.

Pompom Pompom, the trail leads on and on.”

Skipper questioned the leading line. “What connects a front an’ back. What’s that supposed t’mean?”

Umfry explained, “We h’already solved that, ’twas h’a door, that’s the connection. Front door, back door.”

The Otter Chieftain continued, “Must be the next bit. ‘Find one and just three you’ll lack.’ Sounds to me like we’re searchin’ for just one o’ the jewels. Then there’s all this Pompom stuff. Where does that leave us?”

Bisky crouched with his back against the tunnel wall. “Nowhere, I s’pose, it says the trail leads on an’ on, but it doesn’t give any clues on where to search.”

Foremole wrinkled his button nose. “May’aps that bees wot’n we’m got to do. Go on an’ on, fullowin’ ee trail.”

Samolus patted the mole’s back. “Yore right, mate, we go on an’ on, to see where it leads us. Who knows, it might take us right to the Doomwyte’s Eye!”

Bosie had something to add. “Ah ken what ye say, though ’tis mah opinion that we should search this passage for more clues as we go.”

Bisky sprang upright. “Sounds like good sense t’me. Right quick march, or should I say slow march an’ keep yore eyes peeled!”

They seemed to have been marching for an age. Dwink stumbled, bruising his footpaw on a piece of flint. He complained, “You’d think whoever built this tunnel, they could have at least put a smoother floor to it.”

Foremole Gullub answered, “Hurr, ’tworrn’t nobeast builded this un, it bees ee tunnel wot’s allus been yurr, zurr. Could’ve bee’d summ unnerground stream wot dried out longen ago.”

Samolus, who was slightly ahead of the rest, called out, “Come an’ look at this, mates!”

The old mouse was standing at a forked junction, where the tunnel divided, going two ways. Samolus began to get peevish again. “So, the trail leads on an’ on, eh? Two bloomin’ ways!”

Foremole opened one of their supply packs. “Sit ee daown an’ eat, zurrs. Vikkles bees guud furr ee brains, Oi allus says.”

Bosie plumped himself on the ground. “Och, yore a guid, wise mole, that’s the best suggestion Ah’ve heard t’day!”

They ate in silence, glancing from one fork to the other, until Bisky spoke. “So, wot’s it t’be, carry on together, or split up?”

Skipper was in no doubt. “No sense in comin’ this far, an’ havin’ to leave one tunnel unexplored. We’re best splittin’ into two parties, mates. Now, how d’ye split seven up?”

Foremole Gullub had a suggestion. “Oi’ll stay by yurr, wurr ee tunnels splitten, you’m go three uppen wun way, three uppen t’uther.”

Bosie shrugged. “Ye cannae argue wi’ that, though maybe auld Gullub should go with one party, an’ I’ll bide here, just tae keep guard on the vittles, ye ken.”

Samolus shook his head. “You guardin’ vittles? Huh, an’ who’d we leave here t’guard you, my greedy friend? No, you can come with me an’ Dwink. Skip, you take Bisky an’ Umfry with ye. Right, which one do ye fancy, left or right?”

The otter Chieftain had an idea. “We’ll let Martin’s sword choose. Give it a whirl, Bosie.”

Placing the glistening blade flat on the ground, the Highland hare spun it. The swordpoint stopped spinning, facing to the right tunnel. Foremole gave the verdict.

“You’m bees ee sword carrier, zurr, so take ee the path et points to.”

Umfry started off down the left passage. “We’ll h’all report back ’ere later h’on, good luck.” Without further ado they went their separate ways.

Foremole sat by the ration packs, with one lantern for illumination. He watched the lights of both groups until they were out of sight, hoping none of his friends would come to any harm.

12

Korvus Skurr had not been outside his cavern for a full season. However, on this particular day he emerged into the bright sunlight at midmorning. The raven tyrant perched high in the birch tree on the streambank, surrounded by carrion birds. Veeku, the crow leader, shared the same branch with Korvus. It was an altogether odd scene—the black birds, normally rending the air with their cackling and harsh cries, were silent. All eyes were turned north, watching the treetops. Veeku spotted the two magpies first. “Kraah, I see them, Mighty One!”

Griv and Inchig landed on a lower limb, gazing up at Korvus. Inchig waited quietly, leaving the announcement to Griv.

“Kayaah! Baliss will be here when the sun is high, Lord!”

Korvus was not wearing the smoothsnake, Sicariss, draped about him. The reptile had chosen to stay within the underground retreat. The big raven closed his eyes, as if enjoying the day’s pleasant warmth. He spoke to Veeku, ignoring the magpies now that they had told him what he wanted to hear.

“Kraaak! When the blind one arrives, you will have all your carrion guarding the cave entrance. I think Baliss will not try to get by them, after I have talked with him.”

Veeku gazed impassively ahead. “Arrah, it shall be as ye command, Lord. I will await your signal!”

The sun rose to its zenith over the weird tableau below. There was little breeze, hardly a leaf stirred, only a damp rustle in the grass on the streambank. Korvus came alert as he saw the faint movement on the ground. He clacked his beak at Veeku, that was the signal. Immediately the drums from inside the cave entrance began pounding; there was an urgent flapping of birds’ wings. The host of Korvus Skurr blocked the cave mouth completely, barring entrance to anybeast.

Slowly, majestically, the reptile’s great, spade-shaped head arose from the grass, stretching upward, with its forked tongue sensing the atmosphere. The drumming ceased, everything was silent once more. Seeing the monstrous apparition rising against the birch trunk, Korvus mounted to a higher branch. Baliss spoke.

“Birdsssss! Sssso many birdsssssss!”

The raven was distinctly nervous, he chattered, “Yakkarraah! Nobeast can pass into my caves!”

The giant viper withdrew slightly, coiling at the bottom of the birch, his milky, sightless eyes pointed at the spot where the raven’s voice had issued from. “Why doesss the mighty Sssskurr ssseek Balissssss?”

The raven regained his composure. “Hayaah! Come, and I will tell you!”