Brian Jacques - Redwall #21 - Doomwyte

“It was a long, twisty, rock tunnel, more than paw deep in streamwater. After awhile there was a few lit torches, an’ firefly lanterns, hangin’ from the walls. The air became close an’ hot, awful smelly, too, like rotten eggs. Then I came round a sharp bend and into a cavern—it was so massive that it could have held Redwall Abbey an’ all its grounds inside! Everything was in a sort of green light. There were carrion birds perched everywhere, reptiles, too, lizards, toads, grass snakes an’ birds flyin’ round up near the ceiling. It was a dangerous place to be, so I hid behind a big heap of bones.

“Suddenly the cave became alive with noise, birds cacklin’, toads croakin’ an’ a big drum bangin’. A gang o’ the carrion an’ reptiles came in, draggin’ a net with two creatures trapped inside it. They lugged it to this big lake, in the middle of the cave. There was clouds o’ the green mist comin’ off this lake, it was bubblin’ like a cauldron over a fire. There was an island at the centre of the lake, with a statue on it. The thing looked like a huge black bird, with a serpent coiled on its head, like a crown. But it was the eyes of the statue that caught my attention. Four of ’em, great, glitterin’ jewels, two red for the bird, an’ two green for the snake. They shone like fire, twinklin’ an’ dazzlin’ like stars!”

Bisky whispered to Dwink, “The Eyes of the Great Doomwyte, see, I told you it was true….”

Samolus silenced Bisky with a glare. He turned back to the ancient diary as Umfry Spikkle interrupted eagerly, “Wot ’appened next, Sam’lus, tell h’us more!”

Abbot Glisam reprimanded the big Gatekeeper mildly. “Hush now, Umfry, give Samolus a chance.”

The old mouse turned the yellowed pages slowly.

“Then a giant crow, with a snake curled about his head, just like the statue, came flyin out o’ the mist. All the birds an’ reptiles started chantin’, ‘Rigvar Skurr! The Wytessss! The Wytesss!’ Then the big drum set off to boomin’ again. From where I was hidin’, I could see that the two trapped in the net were Guosim shrews, friends of Redwall. But there was nothing I could do to help them. It was horrible wot happened to those two pore beasts, too awful to tell ye.”

Samolus paused as he turned the page. “Lady Columbine takes up the story now.”

My Gonff would speak no more about the fate of the Guosim shrews. He sat quiet awhile, breathing in the sweet scent of the orchard before he spoke again.

“How lucky we are to be living in this beautiful Abbey, able to breathe clean air, and see the sky above. Just the thought of that cave gives me the shivers, but some good came out of it. Everybeast has to sleep sometime, that was when I took my revenge on those evil ones, for the cruel way they slew those shrews. I stole what seemed to me their most treasured possessions, and escaped the cave without being noticed. For am I not Gonff, the Prince of all Mousethieves!”

Bisky clapped his paws with delight. “Ha ha, good ole Prince Gonff, he swiped the eyes out o’ the statues!”

Samolus tweaked the young mouse’s ear. “Excuse me, who’s telling this tale, me or you?”

Smilingly, the Abbot corrected him. “Lady Columbine, I think, friend. You’re only the reader.”

Samolus sniffed. “Good, then perhaps you’ll allow me to carry on with my reading. Right, back to Columbine.”

Gonff produced a cloth bag from his jerkin, and gave it to me. There were four stones in it, each the size of a dove’s egg. They were brilliant, two as red as embers in a winter night’s fire, the other two as green as sunlight shining through a mossy pool.

“These are for you, my dear,” said Gonff.

However, I could not think of accepting such gifts, and gave him my reason for refusing. “If these jewels are the eyes of the statue you told me of, then they have seen many evil deeds. I could not wear them, touch them, and I feel very uneasy just looking at them. You must put them somewhere where they will never again be seen. Someplace where they will not bring danger to Redwall. If their owners ever find out it was you who stole the eyes of their statue, it could bring death to our Abbey. They are stones of ill fortune!”

Samolus closed the book. “So there you have it, Father, the tale young Bisky told was mostly true, with just a few words of his own invention to make the recital of it more thrilling. Is that not right, young un?”

The young mouse shrugged self-consciously. “Aye, just as ye say, Grandunk. But wot happened to the Eyes of the Great Doomwyte? Did Prince Gonff ever tell where he’d hidden them?”

Abbot Glisam let his curiosity show. “Indeed, it would be very interesting to know. Is there nothing in Lady Columbine’s book?”

Samolus shook his head. “Nothing at all, Father, she never mentions the subject again. But do you see this other book, and these scrolls, that I had hidden in the rafters? Well, this book belonged to Gonff, it’s one long riddle from beginning to end. As for the scrolls, they’re the mole Dinny’s notes.”

Dwink chimed in brightly, “Please, sir, could we have a look through them, maybe we could find some clues….”

Abbot Glisam perked up suddenly. “What fun that would be. May we look, Samolus? I don’t suppose there’d be any harm in just looking. Who knows, we may even find the jewels.”

The old mouse willingly placed the material on the Gatehouse table. “Be my guest, friends. I’ve taken a good peek through ’em meself an’ had no luck. So if you think ye can translate the scribbles of a mousethief, an’ the squiggled ramblin’s of a mole, yore welcome to ’em!”

Bisky leapt upon Gonff’s journal. “Leave this to me, pals, I’ll find those jewels!”

Abbot Glisam forestalled him, by gathering up the lot. “Of course you will—straight after your kitchen duties, and lunch. Is it still raining outside?”

Umfry poked his spiky head outside the Gatehouse door. “Aye ’eavier than h’ever, Father. We’ll ’ave to put these towels h’over us an’ run for it.”

Carrying the records between them, they donned towels and dashed over the waterlogged lawns, through the pelting, wet curtains of rain.

Abbot Glisam took charge of the volumes and scrolls. Samolus and Umfry went to visit the wine cellars, which were jointly run by Foremole Gullub Gurrpaw and Umfry’s grandfather, Corksnout Spikkle. Old Corksnout was the biggest hedgehog who ever lived, or so they said. An injury in a bygone battle had robbed him of his nose, but the ever resourceful Samolus fashioned him a new one from a keg cork attached by a string to his headspikes. Even Umfry was dwarfed by the size of his grandfather. Bisky and Dwink both reported to Friar Skurpul in the kitchens, where they were assigned duties.

The mole Friar looked them up and down. “Hurr, young uns, you’m bees soaken frum ee rain. Hmm, ’ow wudd ee loike a job on ee warm uvvens, pullen owt breadloaves. That’ll dry ee!”

Gratefully the pair hastened to join the oven crew, and began using long wooden paddles to retrieve freshly baked items. They joined in with their mates, singing what they termed the “Oven Shanty.” Helping on the ovens was a chore enjoyed by all the young Abbeydwellers. Side by side, they wielded the long beech paddles, roaring out the verses lustily, like sea otters aboard ship.

“Vittles don’t get cooked by themselves.

Ho paddle away, mates, paddle away!

Paddle ’em from the hot oven shelves,

then paddle in plenty new vittles oh!

All fresh an’ crusty that’s the job,

Ho paddle away, mates, paddle away!

Each farl an’ loaf or twist an’ cob,

there’s nowt like new baked bread oh!

Step lively now an’ paddle those pies,