Brian Jacques - Redwall #21 - Doomwyte

This was something that Korvus Skurr had never before encountered. “Gaaraaakuh! Why is this, Veeku?”

“Mighty One, I know not….”

The spread of the mighty raven’s wings almost knocked the crow flat as Korvus launched himself into the air. “Yakkaaah! I will speak with my Wytes.” He hovered over Veeku momentarily, lowering his voice. “Have Sicariss watched, listen to what she says, follow where she goes. Do this secretly, my trusty Veeku.” He flapped off, leaving behind a puzzled crow leader.

Veeku had reported truly. Outside, by the stream, four ravens perched in the branches of the downy birch, silent and brooding. Korvus landed next to Frang, the senior bird. “Reekah! Greetings, brother, why do ye not come inside?”

Frang did not use any formal title as he replied, “Two Wytes have flown to Hellgates…. Slain!”

Korvus made a noise of surprise. “Whaaaark! Two, ye say?” He stood wordless, waiting for Frang’s explanation.

The senior raven stared straight ahead as he reported. “Our brother Purz was killed by poison darts. It was the Painted Ones who slew him.” Now he turned and looked his Chieftain in the eye. “We saw the serpent Baliss eating our brother Tarul. You should never have enlisted the Evil One’s aid!”

Korvus was bewildered at this turn of events. “Yakkar! Where did ye see this thing happen, Frang?”

The senior raven’s tone was loaded with accusation. “In the ditch outside of the red house. None of the earthcrawlers could have killed Tarul, he was daring and brave. Only Baliss could have done the deed. The monster will kill and eat anything that moves. Nobeast can rid us of him!”

The news, totally unexpected, momentarily stunned Korvus. It was Frang who snapped him back to reality, by stating boldly, “Heyaaar! ’Twas not a wise thing, sending for Baliss, ye should not have done it!”

Korvus was in such a rage that he hopped about clacking his beak against the tree trunk. “Harrrrakarakk! I am the Great Doomwyte, nobeast tells me what to do, I give the orders!”

Frang moved back to stand with the other three ravens. Facing up to Korvus, he grated flatly, “Yagarr, then ye did the wrong thing, we are all in danger from the poison-fanged one!”

The tyrant Chieftain stood glaring at him, holding his silence whilst trying to seek a reply.

Frang and three Raven Wytes stared back at him, unafraid. The realisation of his position struck Korvus Skurr. He was the biggest, and strongest, of all carrion, but they were four to one. He was outside of his underground realm, with no mystique surrounding him. No sulphurous clouds, or snake crowning his head. No pounding drums and prostrate reptiles awaiting his every word. Turning, he strode off in a haughty manner, cawing dismissively. “Hurraak! I will think on your rebellious words. You will wait on my decision!”

“Hayaaah, then make it soon, we will not wait around to be slain by Baliss!”

Korvus did not turn, aware that it was Frang who had spoken. The Great Doomwyte knew he had been challenged. In a short space of time he had three new troubles. First, Sicariss, and her hostile manner, which he could not fathom. Next came his own Raven Wytes and their ultimatum to leave him. And finally, the biggest problem of all, the blind monster, Baliss, and the pact he had thoughtlessly made with him.

Korvus flew inside, through the horrific cave, with its sulphur-laden atmosphere, boiling lake and dripping walls. Insects scuttled through the heaps of rotting offal and yellowing bones. Winging over the eyeless monolith of the Doomwyte, he glided into the inner chamber. There in the cooler dimness he landed by the deep pool. Purposely, Korvus alighted close to Sicariss, hunching himself, so the smoothsnake could climb up and coil around his brow. She slithered away from him, coiling further around the edge of the pool. Attempting to make conversation, the tyrant nodded at the watery depths. “Rakkah, has my Welzz been fed?”

Sicariss replied indolently, “A fat, old toad, jussst asss ye ordered.”

Puffing out his chest plumage, the big raven swaggered to the rim, staring down into the water. “Harrr, and did he tell ye any secrets that I should hear?”

The snake stretched, then coiled loosely, as though she was about to take a nap. “Welzzzzz had wordssss for you….” She paused, adding almost mockingly, “O Mighty One.”

On the high, wooded hillside, the dark beast stopped toiling at some tough, ancient hornbeam roots. The mysterious creature watched the Wytes quarreling with Korvus Skurr. Leaving the others still perched in the downy birch, Korvus strutted back into his caves. Wielding the double-bladed sword, the dark beast went back to work on the tree roots, glad that Korvus had not been injured, or slain by his own creatures. The fate of the Doomwyte Chieftain would be decided not by any bird. It was reserved for only one. The dark watcher.

Down in Redwall Abbey’s cellars, the jolly Sister Violet wielded a bung mallet, cautioning Brother Torilis as she swung it. “Now hold that spigot still, Brother, but mind yore paws. Hold it at the bottom, there, that’s right!”

They were broaching a fresh barrel of Corksnout Spikkle’s renowned Strawberry Fizz. Violet dealt the spigot a resounding thwack . Pink liquid sprayed everywhere as the barrel was broached. Speedily, she dealt the spigot several more blows, until the wide end was seated, and the spray halted.

Brother Torilis gasped, wiping liquid from his face, then stood with his paws widespread, and a look of dismay on his sombre features. “Ugh, just look at me, Sister, I’m saturated with that sweet, sticky cordial, absolutely soaked!”

The plump hedgehog Sister chuckled. “’Twas all in a good cause, Brother, our Dibbun heroes called for more, and so they shall have more, lots more. Thirsty liddle warriors!” She watched the effervescent pink drink bubbling into a wooden pail set beneath the spigot tap. “Golly goodness, I do like a sip o’ Strawberry Fizz m’self. Even though it tickles the throat on the way down. What about you, Brother?”

Torilis shuddered. “Dreadful stuff, far too sweet for my taste. I’d sooner have cold mint tea. Huh, after I’ve changed this robe and taken a bath. What are you looking at me like that for, Sister?”

Violet held up a paw for silence. “Shush, Brother, can you hear that booming noise?”

Torilis could hear the sound, he glanced nervously around the dimly lit cellar. “Probably something that only Cellarhog Spikkle knows about. Let’s not loiter down here, Sister, the Dibbuns will be waiting for their Fizz.”

Violet left the pail and hurried off to the rear chamber, holding up her lantern. “That’ll be Laird Bosie’s party, back from their search, Brother. Come and lend a paw with the doorbolt.”

Between them they dealt with the stout bolt, which Corksnout had fitted to the repaired door. The pair were bowled over by a big, tawny owl who rushed up the small flight of steps. He was followed by the others, with Umfry close behind, shouting, “Somebeast’s been pourin’ Straw-bee Fizz, h’I c’n smell h’it. Hoho, let me h’attit!”

Flourishing Martin’s sword, Bosie bowed elegantly. “Guid tae be back hame, marm, yer well, Ah trust.”

Sister Violet was all a-fluster at the hare’s gallantry. “Oh, indeed we are, sir, ye’ve arrived just in time. They’re holdin’ a feast in the orchard for the Dibbuns, two of ’em slew one o’ those big birds!”

Skipper Rorgus smote the floor with his rudder. “Well bully for ’em, I says. Come on, Aluco, mate, let’s get ye vittled up with good Redwall fare!”

Brother Torilis addressed Samolus. “Where’s Bisky? I don’t see him with you.”

Bosie put up his sword. “Och, cheer up, laddie, we’ll be goin’ tae rescue him as soon as we’ve taken a wee bite tae eat. Right, lead me tae the feast!”