Brian Jacques - Redwall #20 - Eulalia!

Orkwil folded his paws resolutely. "No, you ain't, I said yore stayin' here!"

"And I said I'm coming with you!"

The pitchfork prongs were a spike's breadth from Orkwil's snout. He hardened his voice as he glared at Gorath. "That's what I said, yore comin' with me. Now stop ar-guin' an' let's get movin', bigbeast!"

The bankvole was quite a good cook, by woodland standards. He was sitting on the edge of the river, just outside of his dwelling, savouring the aroma of a large, speckled trout. Only the previous day he had netted it in a reed snare. It was not often that such a feast was to be had, speckled trout were cunning and swift on the River Moss, but voles, particularly old and greedy ones, were equally sly and quick.

The watervole had been up most of the night, preparing himself an epic breakfast. He had dug a firepit, laying his ingredients on the white-hot charcoal embers. A layer of

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fresh watercress and dandelion leaves, with fragrant mint, pennywort and sorrel. Next came the trout, stuffed with mushrooms and some almonds he had been saving for such an occasion. Topping the lot with a layer of dock-leaves, he covered the pit, and its contents, with loam. Soon it would be baked to a turn.

Sipping a beaker of his own home-brewed cider, the watervole sniffed the delicious aroma permeating through the loam.

"Mmmmm, is that baked trout I can smell, marvellous!"

The vole's paw reached for the club, which lay beside him, as he snarled viciously at Orkwil Prink. "So, it's you agin', well, I'm ready for ye this time, 'edgepig. Try any-thin' wid me an' ye'll join those two water rats, weighted down wid rocks in the swamp!" Waving the club, he scrabbled around with his free paw, and came up with a long dagger. "Aye, I'm good'n'ready, so make yore move, if ye dare!"

Orkwil shook his head, feigning sadness. "Well, there's gratitude for you, after me savin' his life. If I'd known he was goin' to be so nasty I wouldn't have invited you along, my friend."

The vole looked over his shoulder, to see whom the young hedgehog was addressing. His jaw dropped at the sight of the huge badger carrying a pitchfork. Dropping both club and dagger, the terrified beast took to his paws and fled into the woodlands.

Orkwil began raking the loam from off the cooked trout. "Dearie me, I never knew voles could run as fast as that. D'you think it was somethin' I said?"

Squatting down beside the cooking pit, Gorath helped to lift the delicious repast out onto the bank.

"Who knows, perhaps he didn't feel very hungry?" For the first time, Orkwil saw his friend smile. Indicating the fish, the young hedgehog smiled back. "I'll wager you feel hungry, mate. Look, why don't you stop here, eat your fill

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and rest. I can make it to the Abbey alone, yore too weary an' ill to travel far. I'll get help sent out to you, just take it easy, you've been through enough."

Gorath used the vole's dagger to share out the meal. "Eat up and don't talk so much, Orkwil. I'm coming with you, just as I've been ordered to."

The young hedgehog looked oddly at his companion. "Ordered to, wot d'ye mean?"

Gorath explained, "While I was chained to the mast of that ship, I saw things in my mind. A mouse who carried a sword spoke to me, he told me to watch for the young thief. You told me yourself that you were the thief, remember, when you were opening the locks. That mouse halted my Bloodwrath. Do you know what Bloodwrath is?"

Orkwil shook his head, so Gorath continued.

"My grandparents called it the affliction of Badger Warriors. It is a rage for battle that cannot be stopped. When the Bloodwrath strikes I lose all control of myself. Nothing can stand against me in my lust for slaughter, nothing but death itself."

Orkwil's voice sounded very small. "I saw it on the ship, when you seized the fox, it looked as if yore eyes were filled with blood."

Gorath nodded. "Aye, that was Bloodwrath, I would have attacked that full vermin crew. But in this weakened state, they would have overcome me with their numbers. It was the sword mouse who brought me out of it. He appeared in my mind, and told me to go to Redwall with you. So don't try to stop me, little friend, eat this food and we'll be on our way."

Orkwil began wolfing down the food, talking with his mouth full. "Right, I'll try not to stop you, mate. Anyhow, I lost my staff in the swamp, so I couldn't really, could I?"

Gorath passed the vole's club and dagger to him. "You'd best take these."

Orkwil could see Gorath was smiling. He brandished

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the weapons, slitting his eyes fiercely. "There, how do I look now, eh?"

The young badger managed a straight face. "Oh, very savage, a real terror I'd say!"

Orkwil took a last mouthful of food and licked his paws. "Come on, then, let's go to Redwall, mate! Oh, before I forget, there's something there that I want you to see."

They set off along the bankside together, the badger's curiosity was aroused. "What's that?"

"Just a friend of yours, the sword mouse, is that what you called him?" Orkwil winked broadly, and would not say anything further.

Dawn glimmered through the trees onto the River Moss. Vizka Longtooth lay asleep in his cabin, gradually coming awake to the sound of voices outside his cabin door.

"Yew tell 'im, Glurma, 'twas ye wot found 'im!" Firty's remark was followed by the cook's denial.

"Ho no, mate, yew see'd 'im afore I did, I was on'y da one who tripped up over 'im on me way t'the galley."

Jungo interrupted Glurma. "Why don't youse both tell de cap'n t'gether?"

Firty rounded on him irately. "Why don't yew tell 'im, bigmouth, go on. March in dere an' say, 'Cap'n, I got news for ye, Codj is dead'!"

The cabin door flew open, knocking Firty flat, and smacking the rat cook in her bulging stomach. Vizka grabbed Jungo by the neck. "My brudder dead, where, 'ow?"

The hapless weasel's windpipe was constricted, he gurgled, "Gollawolla me, Clap'n, yer krokklin' me!"

Glurma rubbed her stomach with one paw, gesturing with the other. "Over dere by d'mast, 'e's over dere!"

The golden fox rushed to the spot. Hardly paying any attention to the crumpled figure of his brother, he stared wildly around, yelling, "Where's der stripe'ound an' dat 'edgepig?"

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Bilger, who had just appeared on deck, took in the situation at a glance. "Gone, Cap'n!"

It was the wrong thing to say. Vizka felled him with a hard blow, and jumped up and down on him, roaring, "I kin see dey're gone, mud'ead! But who saw 'em, an' where've dey gone to?"

The rest of the crew had turned out to see what all the commotion was about. Vizka rounded on them. "Don't jus' stan' there, do sumthin', go an' track 'em!"

Keeping her distance, Glurma the cook called out, "None of dem kin track, Cap'n, we ain't got a trail follerer aboard!"

Vizka kicked the prone form of Bilger. "Den go an' find one an' bring 'im back 'ere!"

There was a mass scramble as the vermin followed Bilger to the rail, nobeast wanted to stay aboard with their captain in his present mood. About ten made it into the river, when Vizka halted the rest.

"Git back 'ere, it don't take all of youse to find a tracker. Line up there, where I kin see ye!"

The remainder of the crew formed a haphazard line. They stood staring at the deck, as Vizka paced up and down in front of them, glaring.

"Wot a crew, eh? Y'spends yer lives snorin' an' eatin', huh, dat's when yer not swiggin' grog. Lettin' prisoners escape, dat's all yore good for!" He went to the tiller and leaned on it, shaking his head. "An' dere's my pore brudder, deader 'n a stone. Codj was worth more'n all of ya put t'gether, now 'e's gotta be laid t'rest. Dogleg, Patchy, find some sailcloth an' wrap Codj up in it. Bind it round wid dat chain, so 'e'U sink. Firty, make up some nice, fittin' werds to say for when my brudder goes overboard."