Brian Jacques - Redwall #20 - Eulalia!

"Er, shouldn't that be blood'n'thunder, Boss?"

Gruntan glared at his scout, Noggo, who with Biklo was lying alongside him. "That's wot I said, izzenit?"

Biklo pointed out the error. "No, Boss, you said thud'n'blunder, not blood'n'thunder."

Gruntan grabbed both scouts' ears and banged their

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heads together. "Avast there, y'swabs, wot sounds better, blood'n'thunder, or thud'n'blunder, eh?"

Noggo blinked hard, trying to uncross his eyes. "Thud'n'blunder, Boss, I likes the sound o' that!"

Gruntan tugged their ears roughly before releasing them. "Aharr, matey, an' so do I. Blubber thrunder it is then!"

Both scouts edged out of his reach, saluting. "Aye aye, Boss, blutter thrumble, or wotever ye say!"

Maudie was in one of the midstream boats, she looked across to Luglug in the other. The shrew chieftain was scanning both banks keenly. "Those rascals ain't much good at hidin', miss, I kin see 'em crouchin' in the rocks both sides of us."

The haremaid allowed her paws to stray near the bow and arrows lying close to her. "Yes, I've spotted the blighters, too, they're all painted up like a dellful of bloomin' daisies. Not the best idea if you don't want to be jolly well seen, is it? So, what d'you say, old Lugathing, we know they're there, an' they know we're here. Shall we open up the ball?" She signalled Rigril and Teagle, who were holding the coracle, filled with shrewbabes, between both logboats. "Right, off y'go chaps, give them paddles a good whack, an' don't stop for anythin'. Good luck!"

Then things developed swiftly. The coracle shot off, with the babes squealing lustily as spray cascaded around them. Luglug roared to the four logboats skirting the banks. "Logalogalogaloooooog!"

They began launching showers of slingstones at the rats in the rocks.

Gruntan Kurdly sprang upright on his high perch, bawling furiously, "Don't just sit there, ye block'eads! Chaaaaarge!"

His first officer, Stringle, leapt upright. "Youse 'eard the boss, cummon, charge! Charge! Ch ..."

A well-aimed slingstone cracked him on the jaw. He

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slumped backward as the other Brownrats came out of hiding. Without somebeast to lead them, they came cautiously forward. Gruntan danced with rage, flinging grass, soil, shale, anything to paw, as he yelled. "Don't stan' around waitin' for winter! Charge, ye fools! Chaaaaarge!"

Now the boats closest to shore began to speed up, half the crews paddling, as the other half continued slinging. Maudie stood erect, a shaft notched upon her bowstring. "Right, give 'em blood'n'vinegar, chaps. Eulaliiiiaaaaaa!" She loosed her arrow, bringing down one of the vermin, who was splashing through the shallows toward them.

The Guosim archers were ruthlessly efficient, they fired off salvos of arrows into the charging rats as they entered the crookstream. Maudie saw Guosim still hurling sling-stones into the forward flank of vermin, as she notched up another arrow, shouting. "One more time, then let's get out of here. Shoot!" Another rain of arrows cut the air, then the Guosim dropped their bows and started paddling energetically.

Now the logboats that had been close to shore came to midstream, ahead of the two carrying Maudie and Luglug. All six craft carried on upstream, their paddlers working hard. The coracle had rounded another bend, and could not be seen, but the logboats were hard in its wake.

Gruntan Kurdly was beside himself with rage, he hopped and danced on top of the big rock, ranting and raving. "Get after 'em, stop 'em, ye blitherin' blisters! I wants those boats, ye sluggardly laggards! Out! Git yore useless bottoms out o' the water an' run along the banks, ye brainless blunderers! 'Tis ten times easier runnin' on land than 'tis in a stream! Are ye deaf, daft or ditherin'? I said git out an' run along the bankside!"

Some of the rats could not hear him clearly amid the stream noise, they continued wading through the water. Gruntan hopped and jumped wildly on top of the high rock, bellowing dreadful oaths and curses. Then he jumped a fraction too far, and disappeared over the edge.

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Noggo stared in bewilderment at where Gruntan had been. "Huh, where's the boss gone?"

Biklo shrugged. "I think 'e fell, 'cos 'e's not 'ere no more, mate!"

Noggo scratched his tail awhile, then he giggled. "Well, 'e can't slay us now, can 'e? The sh'ews musta spotted us, 'cos they was ready for the ambush. The boss said if'n we was spotted, then we was in fer a dose o'the Kurdlys."

Biklo suddenly realised they had been given a new lease on life, due to their leader's mishap. He began chuckling. "Mebbe ole Gruntan fancied 'e was a bird, hahahahaha!"

His companion sniggered uncharitably. "Heeheehee, that's wot comes of eatin' all those eggs, mate. I reckon 'e turned into a Kurdlyburd!" Both rats sat down. Overcome by merriment, they laughed until tears rolled down their cheeks. Then an agonised wail arose from below.

"Yeeeeeeeooooow ... ooh, 'elp me mates, owow-aaarrrrgh!"

The laughter froze in their throats, Noggo and Biklo crawled to the edge of the rock and peered downward. About halfway down the rockface, a big, old, gorse bush sprouted out of a crevice. Gruntan Kurdly was hanging there, painfully suspended in the thorny branches, wailing.

"Yowch, ooch, yeeek! 'elp me afore this thing breaks!"

Noggo called down instinctively. "We'll 'elp ye, Boss, stay there!"

Gruntan's voice reached new peaks of indignation. "Stay here? Where d'ye think I'm goin', fer a paddle in the water! Get a rope down 'ere t'me, quick!" Looking down, Gruntan spotted his first officer. "Ahoy, Stringle, organise some 'elp an' git me outta this!"

Vermin were called away from chasing the logboats, to assist their leader out of his predicament. The task was eventually achieved, with lots of ropes and harnesses. Gruntan Kurdly was hauled up to the top of the rock, screaming and yowling every pawlength of the way. The big Brownrat was pierced by long, sharp gorse thorns, from

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tailtip to ears. Whilst a team of helpers worked gingerly to remove them, he glared murderously at his two scouts.

"I should peel the hides off'n ye both, aye, an' sling youse into that bush. But I'm givin' ye another chance, git after those logboats an' see where they're bound!"

Wordlessly, Noggo and Biklo dashed off to obey the order.

Maudie and the Guosim had problems of their own. The coracle containing Rigril, Teagle and the shrewbabes had run too far ahead of them. The waterway called the crook-stream'n'ripples was a curious phenomenon. Once they were past the pebbly shallows of the gorge, the water deepened drastically. Even though they were paddling against the current, the going became smoother as they came in sight of a fork. It was there that the water went two ways, following a diverted course to one side, which the Guosim had named the ripples. This tributary thundered off downhill.

Luglug stood in the prow of his logboat, shouting to Rigril and Teagle, as they were swept into the slipwater at the fork. "Pull 'er out, keep to yore midstream, don't let those ripples draw ye in afore we gets to ye, mates!"

Whether he could be heard over the rushing waters and the excited cries of the shrewbabes Maudie could not tell. However, she could see the trouble which the coracle was in. Rigril and Teagle were paddling furiously, trying to hold the little circular craft back, but it bumped against a rocky nub, just beneath the surface.

A groan of dismay arose from the crews of the six pursuing logboats. The coracle had begun to rotate, bouncing off the underwater rock, and slipping right into the ripples. As it hit the opposing downhill current, the paddlers' oars became useless. Spinning like a top, the coracle was lost to sight, skimming swiftly downstream on a perilous course.