Brian Jacques - Redwall #20 - Eulalia!

Luglug was bellowing. "Put yore backs into it, Guosim, we've got t'catch 'em!"

144

Maudie watched breathlessly as the shrew paddlers put all their might into their efforts. Compared with the coracle, the logboats had to struggle against the slipwater at the fork. Immediately they had to back water, and avoid going into collision with one another, as the long, pointed logboats hit the ripples. Gousim rowers dug paddles deep, leaning back, trying to stop their boats going into a spinning motion. The six craft raced off downhill, leaping and juddering into white clouds of enveloping spray.

Maudie put her mouth close to Luglug's ear, she yelled aloud, "These ain't ripples, they're rapids!"

The shrew chieftain's voice was almost lost amid an increasing thunder of water as he bellowed, "Save yore voice an' hang on tight, miss, there's a big 'un comin' up!"

Maudie heard herself scream as the logboat shot off into thin air. It was then that she realised that the "big 'un" was a waterfall.

145

15

Abbot Daucus had issued orders that neither of the Abbey bells was to be tolled. If vermin invaders were heading for Redwall, it was not advisable to pinpoint the building's position too soon by ringing its twin bells. Orkwil stood watch on the walltops, with Skipper Rorc, Foremole Burff, and Benjo Tipps. They took the northwest corner of the ramparts, which was the most likely vantage point to catch sight of the Sea Raiders, who would obviously be headed down the path toward them.

Orkwil felt very grown-up and important in his new role. Armed with the dagger and club he had gained from the water vole, the young hedgehog peered out into the darkness.

Leaning over the battlement beside him, Skipper whispered, "No sign o' them yet, mate, how far behind ye do ye figger those villains were?"

Orkwil shrugged. "Can't say really, Skip, but that big, golden fox won't hang back when he finds me'n Gorath gone, an' his brother slain into the bargain."

Benjo rubbed his eyes, concentrating on the path. "Ain't much moon showin', 'tis real gloomy out there. This is the part I don't like, the waitin'."

Skipper let his chin rest on the battlement. "It must be

146

midnight now, mebbe they've made camp, restin' up until daylight. Don't forget, they're in strange country, so they might feel like goin' carefully."

Orkwil shook his head. "I don't think careful is a word Longtooth is accustomed to. If he knows the way, he'll be comin' nonstop for Redwall!"

Contrary to Orkwil's opinion, Vizka was an extremely careful creature, especially when it came to his own personal safety. Even now he marched at the centre of his crew, well protected on all sides by vermin bodies. It was past the midnight hour, the path ahead was in total darkness, Vizka cursed softly as a weasel blundered into him. "Ya clumsy oaf, gerrup in front an' send der scouts back ter me!"

The two stoats, Dogleg and Patchy, came marching back. They had the vole on a rope lead, stumbling behind them. Dogleg thrust the prisoner in front of Vizka. "Dis 'un sez 'e kin see der Redwall place, Cap'n!"

The golden fox seized the vole's neck roughly. "Ye'd better be tellin' der truth or I'll gut ya!"

The vole managed to gasp out, "'Tis up yonder, not far, ye'll see it yoreself soon."

Vizka gave orders to the weasel Magger. "Get der crew down dat ditch aside o' de path. Tell 'em t'wait dere an' be quiet. Jungo, Bilger, come wid me, bring dat hairy mouse wid ya!"

Glad of the unexpected rest, the vermin crew slid into the dry ditch. As Vizka and the two crewbeasts went cautiously forward, the watervole pointed ahead. "There 'tis, see, Redwall Abbey. Can I go back to me river now, sir? I've showed ye the way."

Vizka showed his fangs in what he thought was a friendly smile. "Ye did well, hairy mouse, I'll let ya go soon, but first dere's a liddle job I wants ya to do fer me. Jungo, give 'im yore sling an' stones. Bilger, take off 'n yer shirt an' scarf."

The vole looked bemused as Vizka rigged him out in the

147

filthy oversized shirt, and draped the scarf about his head like a turban. The golden fox fitted a stone in the sling and placed it in the vole's paw, commenting, "Haharr, don't 'e look like a salty ole Sea Raider now!"

Jungo chuckled. "Huhuhuh, looks real pretty, don't 'e?"

The vole hitched up his floppy shirtsleeves. "Wot am I dressed up like this for, sir?"

Vizka nodded at the Abbey walls as they loomed up in the night. "Yore gonna announce us as visitors. Now, 'ere's wot ya say. Shout out nice'n loud, 'Ahoy in dere. I'm a pore, starvin' seabeast, let me an' me mates in so's we kin get some vittles, kind sirs.'"

The vole stared disbelievingly at Longtooth. "But nobeast'll hear me, they'll all be well abed by now."

Vizka patted his back reassuringly. "Yew let me worry about dat, fatmouse, jus' do as yer told. Go on, an' shout out loud'n'clear now, y'hear?"

The vole scratched his thick fur. "An' then I'm free t'go?"

The golden fox nodded amiably. "Aye, free as a burd. Now yew go an' deliver der message, we'll wait right 'ere." He drew his two crewbeasts into the woodland fringe, watching the vole walk off toward the wall.

Bilger sniggered, sensing his captain's intentions. "Jus' testin' der ground, eh, Cap'n?"

Jungo looked puzzled. "Testin' der ground, wot's dat?"

Vizka cuffed his ear lightly. "Pay attention an' watch dose walls."

Orkwil was first to spot the movement on the path below. He cautioned his friends, "There's somebeast down there, can't make out who 'tis in this dark, but I'll wager that 'un's a vermin!"

Skipper peered down at the strange figure. "Stay where ye are, don't come any further!"

The vole stood still as he carried out Vizka's order to the letter. "Ahoy in there, I'm a pore, starvin' seabeast, let me in so me an' my mates can get some vittles!"

148

Orkwil recognised the vole by the tone of his voice. However, before he could do anything, Benjo Tipps flung an oakwood burl, which he used as a barrel stopper. It hit the vole squarely between both ears, felling him. Orkwil gasped at the speed with which the Cellarhog had acted. "Mister Tipps, that wasn't a sea vermin. He's a vole who lives up near the ford!"

Benjo chuckled grimly. "Then why didn't he say so? Looked like a vermin, said he was a seabeast, an' if'n I ain't mistaken, he was carryin' a weapon. Wot d'ye say, Skip?"

Skipper Rorc nodded. "That's a loaded sling he was totin', ye did the right thing, mate. It could've been a trap, no use standin' round an' chattin' with vermin. Strike now an' talk later, that's wot I always do! Now then, young Prink, can ye see any more o' the villains out there?"

Orkwil stared hard, but there was no sign of movement. "No, Skip, there's nobeast about that I can see. D'you think Mister Tipps has slain the vole, he looks awful still just lyin' there."

Benjo patted Orkwil's headspikes. "Don't worry, young 'un, he ain't dead, but he'll have a headache that'll last a day or two when he wakes. If the coast is clear enough after dawn we'll fetch him inside."

"Er, fetch who inside, may I ask?" Friar Chondrus emerged onto the walltop, Granspike Niblo was with him. They brought food for the wall sentries.

Foremole Burff ladled himself a bowl of mushroom soup. "Et wurr summ voler, dressed oop loike ee vermint. Hurrhurr, ole Benjo bringed 'im daown with one shot!"

Orkwil and his friends tucked into fresh, crusty bread, cheese and hot soup, each feeling rather pleased at their night's work thus far.

Vizka Longtooth and his two crewbeasts retreated stealthily back to the ditch. Dropping down into the dried ditchbed, the golden fox left his crew sleeping, but

149

wakened the weasel Magger, whom he had come to rely on as his second in command.