Brian Jacques - Redwall #21 - Doomwyte

Abbot Glisam addressed Garul, the older shrew. “Will you take over as Log a Log of the Guosim?”

Garul shook his head. “Only as a deputy, until the proper one turns up.”

Samolus chipped in, “An’ who, pray, is the proper one?”

Garul answered without hesitation, “Young Dubble, who else? He’s the next Log a Log by birth an’ bloodright. Aye, an’ I’m sure he’ll make a far better Chieftain t’the Guosim than his father did!”

“Well, ’e couldn’t make a much werse one,” Nokko commented. “Er, Abbo, mate, d’yew know who’s got my sambag?”

Abbot Glisam produced the sandbag from his broad habit sleeve. “Sorry, here it is, sir, it was being held in evidence. Tugga Bruster must have stolen it whilst you were sleeping, just to implicate you.” He tossed the sandbag to the Gonfelin Pikehead. “Take it with my best wishes, it’s rather a good, well-made sandbag.”

Nokko hefted the object fondly. “My young Spingo made it fer me. A Gonfelin Pike’ead needs a sturdy sambag, to whack any o’ the tribe who gets outta line. Aye, that’s wot any Chieftain needs, a sense of humour, a wise mind, fairness in all things, mercy an’ forgiveness, too…an’ a good, ould sambag t’deal with any upstarts. I’ll ask Spingo t’make young Dubble a sambag, fer when he becomes Log a Log.”

Samolus chuckled drily. “That’s if Bisky an’ Spingo ever find him, goodness only knows where he is this moment!”

29

It had become clear to every bird or reptile that dwelt in the caverns beneath the hill that their fate was sealed. Sealed in more ways than one, with the monster, Baliss, blocking the exit tunnel. As yet, the snake had not entered the main cavern, he lay in the passage. Sometimes half-conscious, but often hissing wildly, writhing and smiting the passage walls as the infected wounds grew more agonising. The huge reptile’s head had become a grotesque vision of ugliness. Swollen and bloated, with broken hedgehog spines, the lips and nostrils inflated with poisonous secretions. Even the blind, blue-white eyes suppurated, leaking poison which was not natural snake venom.

All the inhabitants of the main cave, with its boiling pool and sulphurous atmosphere, crowded into the rear cavern. Their fear of Korvus Skurr, the Doomwyte Chieftain, was overcome by the terror of Baliss, whose abhorrent head could be seen lurking in the tunnel. Korvus Skurr was now a leader only by his size and savage fighting skills. The reptiles, snakes, lizards and toads concealed themselves in corners and crannies of the inner cave. Already they were being used as a food source by the army of carrion birds, who could no longer hunt outside for their needs. The only hope Korvus cherished was that the snake would finally die in the tunnel, and not enter his caverns. He perched on the rock above the bottomless, dark lake, with the smoothsnake Sicariss at his side.

Sicariss knew that the only safe place to be was by the big raven. He was her sole protection, with so many scavenging carrion about.

Korvus peered into the watery depths as he asked his smoothsnake, “Kaarh! Where is the Welzz, I would hear what it has to say.”

Sicariss watched the surface of the lake, commenting, “Welzzzz musssst be offered food!”

Without looking up, the Doomwyte tyrant issued an order. “Haaraak, bring food for my Welzz!”

None of the carrion moved from their perches.

Korvus looked up then, raking the birds with his fierce eyes. “Yakaaar! I said bring food, any reptile will do. Quickly!”

Still there was no movement from within the feathered ranks. Veeku, the crow leader, was nearby, his damaged wing hanging uselessly. Drawing himself up, Korvus towered over the wounded crow.

“Haaarrr! Tell them to do as I command!”

Veeku bowed his head. “Korrah! Lord, why should these birds find food for a fish? If they cannot leave to hunt outside, they will need the reptiles to feed upon.”

Korvus lashed out with his wicked talons, felling his once-faithful servant. Overtaken by rage, the big raven struck Veeku a barrage of blows with his heavy, lethal beak, crying harshly, “Rakkachakk! I will be obeyed! I am the Great Doomwyte!”

Crows, rooks, jackdaws and choughs flew screeching harshly from their perches, seeking the upper rocky crags close to the ceiling. Korvus placed his talons on the dead Veeku, calling to them.

“Yakaaaar! Death to all who disobey me. This one will feed my Welzz, watch, and witness the wrath of your Great Doomwyte!”

Dragging the dead crow leader to the lake, he flung Veeku into the water. The carcass floated on the dark surface momentarily. Then the water exploded as Welzz came rushing upward and engulfed the offering.

Korvus strutted over to Sicariss. “Hayaak! Now you will speak to Welzz. Ask if Baliss will die soon!”

If indeed the voracious fish could have spoken, it might well have mentioned what was going on above the Doomwytes’ realm. Bisky and Spingo had elected to help Dubble and Zaran with their task of collapsing the cave entrance. Once they had been told of the black otter’s plan, plus the fact that Baliss was also inside with the reptiles and vermin, they volunteered eagerly. Zaran was less enthusiastic, giving them her reasons tersely.

“This is my task, Zaran does not need others. Revenge upon Skurr and his creatures is my vow. There is much danger, I would not forgive myself if young ones were killed or hurt.”

Being a Gonfelin, and seldom lost for words, Spingo reasoned with the avenging otter. “Enemies is enemies, my da always sez. Yore our friend, so your enemy is ours. Lissen, mate, ye won’t get a better chance than this. Not only is Skurvybottom an’ his mob in those caves, but now y’ve gorra chance t’get them an’ that big ould snake, too. Aye, an’ why should the likes of us get hurt an’ killed, eh? We ain’t gonna scrap with ’em paw’t’paw. All we’re doin’ is blockin’ ’em in, so that we don’t have ter look at their ugly mugs agin!”

Bisky seconded the pretty mousemaid. “Spingo’s right, marm. Besides, four pair o’ paws should get the job done quicker!”

Arming themselves with Zaran’s tools, they set to work on the hillside. The black otter shrugged. “It is not the work of one day or ten. Do not expect this hill to collapse soon, young friends!”

“Oh, we know that, don’t we, mates? You jus’ tell us where t’dig, an’ we’ll get the job done, no matter ’ow long it takes!” Spingo assured her.

Zaran indicated a massive slab of rock, protruding from the side of the slope. “I think we dig that out, then balance it careful.”

Dubble nodded. “Righto, then when the time comes a good push’ll send it down in front o’ the entrance, with any luck.”

There was a big old beech tree growing alongside the slab. A lot of its root network had to be hacked away as they excavated into the uphill side of the ponderous stone. Zaran took her double-bladed sword, attacking the big beech roots. Bisky commenced digging at the back of the slab, Dubble took the side opposite the beech tree. Spingo threw all her energy into excavating the front side of the ponderous stone. They laboured steadily, the three young ones digging, and Zaran severing the thick root tendrils which impeded the task.

Dubble stopped to take a drink of water, as he straightened up he was hit by a pile of soil. Spitting earth and wiping at his eyes, he complained loudly, “Ahoy there, Bisky, watch where yore throwin’ that stuff, will ye!”

Popping his head up over the rear of the slab, Bisky protested, “It wasn’t me, mate, I’m chuckin’ my soil backward. Watch out, here comes some more!”