Brian Jacques - Redwall #20 - Eulalia!

"You'm likkle villyuns, ee'm badgerer loike t'be toppled o'er with you'm a clamberin' on 'im loike h'ants!"

Maudie took Gorath's paw. "I say, old lad, Barbowla's right, are you able to manage the wallsteps, wot?"

The badger gave a rumbling chuckle. "I might just be able to, if there's food up there."

There was indeed food to be had on the ramparts, the best Gorath had ever tasted. Seating himself on the top step, he allowed Benjo Tipps to press a tankard of finest

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October Ale upon him. This was followed by Friar Chondrus, who placed a loaded tray close to Gorath's paw.

"This is one o' my mushroom an' leek pasties, I hope ye like it. There's some fresh made cheesebread, an' summer vegetable soup. Oh, an' a portion of tater, onion an' carrot bake to nibble afore dessert. Eat 'earty now, young sir!"

Gorath was joined by Orkwil and Maudie. As he ate with an astounding appetite, the young hedgehog and the haremaid related how Vizka Longtooth and some of his vermin had been chased off by the Brownrats.

Gorath expressed concern over the incident. "I hope Longtooth doesn't run off altogether, I've got a score to settle with that fox!"

Orkwil took a bite of pastie, fanning a paw across his mouth to cool it. "First you've got to get yoreself fit an' well, mate, then ye can think about slayin' yore enemies. I wouldn't worry too much over Longtooth, he'll come slinkin' back around Redwall sooner or later."

Rangval had been sitting close by, eavesdropping on the conversation. He called over to Maudie, "Why don't ye save a few of those good ould uppercut punches for the fox, if'n ye meet him, miss?"

Orkwil replied for the haremaid. "You don't trade punches with a vermin like Longtooth, have ye seen that wicked-lookin' mace an' chain he carries? One swipe o' that would be all it takes!"

Maudie was not impressed. "He could jolly well swipe with his mace all flippin' season, but he wouldn't touch a hair of me if I didn't want the rotter to."

Gorath looked at her curiously. "How so?"

Maudie took a kerchief from her sleeve. Spreading it on the walkway, she placed her footpaws on it, one slightly in front of the other. Then she gave forth a challenge. "Righty-o chaps, anybeast wants to try landin' a bloomin' punch on me, step up. I won't attempt to hit back, word of honour an' all that, wot!"

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No sooner was the challenge out than Log a Log Osbil accepted it. He leapt up, paws clenched tight, milling about in small, businesslike circles. As he stood in front of Maudie, Osbil gave her a sly wink.

"My turn this time, marm, ye'll feel how hard I can punch. Are ye good an' ready?"

Maudie winked cheerily back at her adversary. "Ready as I'll ever be, bucko, you punch away whenever y'feel like. I won't move from this kerchief."

A crowd gathered along the walltop to watch. Some of Osbil's Guosim friends shouted out, "Go on, Chief, give 'er a good 'un!"

"Aye, an' belt 'er harder'n she hit you!"

Osbil never hesitated, he swung a big roundhouse right. Maudie seemed just to sway, ever so slightly. The punch spun Osbil around with its force, but it never touched the haremaid. The Guosim chieftain looked astonished. Maudie grinned at him. "Nice try, old chap!"

Osbil gritted his teeth and threw a huge uppercut. The haremaid bent gracefully backward, letting her opponent strike air. Osbil came back with a flurry of punches. Maudie evaded every one of them, swaying left, right, forward and back, with a lithe ease.

The Guosim were yelling encouragement to Osbil.

"Give 'er the ole one-two, Chief!"

"Try hookin' with yore left!"

"Go for the breadbasket, knock the wind out of 'er!"

Osbil tried them all, and a few more beside, but to no avail. Maudie could not be touched. He gave up and stood there, head bowed, panting heavily. Maudie folded up her kerchief, throwing a paw about Osbil's shoulders.

"Come on, friend, let's have a jolly old tankard of the good October together, what d'ye say?"

The shrew chieftain grinned ruefully. "How did ye learn to do that, mate?"

Rangval bounded between them, hopping about and

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ducking. "Practice, me ould tater, that's how ye learn t'do anythin' well. Go on, go on, try to hit me, I dare ye!"

Osbil merely held out his clenched paw, and Rangval danced straight into it, knocking himself flat. Everybeast roared laughing, except Rangval, who sat up holding his chin. "I took lots o' bobbin' lessons, but none on the weavin'. So I bobbed when I should've weaved, an' that's how ye got me. Oh, an' then there's the duckin' an' divin' lessons, I'll have to start takin' those soon. Then I'll wipe the smiles off yore gobs. Maudie, me darlin', how's about givin' me a few tips?"

The haremaid issued a generous offer. "Why, certainly, old top, in fact I'll give anybeast a list of hints. Who wants to learn, any of you chaps?" Virtually everybeast on the ramparts, young and old, began clamouring for instructions. Maudie held up her paws for silence before giving them the benefit of her experience.

"Right, listen up now, chaps. My old pa was the finest boxin' hare ever to come out of Salamandastron. He could box the blinkin' whiskers off the best of 'em, an' that jolly well includes me. From the time I was only a totterin' leveret, he had me skippin' a rope an' singin' this song. I'll show you, who's got a piece of rope that I can borrow, wot?"

Abbot Daucus untied his white habit cord. "How would this do, miss?"

Maudie tried a few practice skips. "Nicely thank you, Father. Right, here we jolly well go!" She started with slow hops, twirling the rope easily as she broke into the song taught by her father in bygone seasons.

"Duck an' weave an' weave an' duck, you'll learn the noble art, don't lash out an' trust to luck, use science, skill and heart.

Make your paws show him who's boss.

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Hook jab! Punch jab! Feint jab cross!

Show commonsense, have confidence, keep one eye on that blighter, do what he least expects you to, an' you'll become a fighter.

"Make your paws show him who's boss.

Hook jab! Punch jab! Feint jab cross!

Sway an' bob an' bob an' sway, an' keep your guard up tight, tuck in that chin, aye that's the style the way you learn to fight.

Make your paws show him who's boss.

Hook jab! Punch jab! Feint jab cross!"

Maudie repeated the last two lines several times, skipping so fast that the rope became a blur. She finished to enthusiastic applause.

Abbot Daucus retrieved his habit cord, commenting wryly, "If they're all as good as you at Salamandastron, I wonder why they want a badger, you've got a real skill there, miss. Oh dearie me, it looks like you've started something, just look at that lot!"

Everybeast, including the Dibbuns and old ones, down on the lawn was using habit cords, belts, even pieces of trailing vine, as they leapt wildly about. Benjo Tipps, who was far too weighty for such exercise, donated his belt to a pair of shrewbabes. He chuckled as they skipped awkwardly off. "We'll soon be havin' an Abbeyful o' boxin' beasts. Lookit ole Foremole Burff there!" The mole chieftain had forgotten the words, but he bounced about solemnly, chanting. "Duck bobby duck bobby, 'ook duck bob!"

Maudie covered her eyes with a paw. "Good grief, if my old pa could see that, he'd have a flippin' purple fit, wot!"

The feast continued on into the warm summer evening, with other songs, dances and games taking the place of skipping. It was turning dusk as Maudie returned to the

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walltops, after helping to carry up more food from the kitchens. She plumped down beside Friar Chondrus, accepting a beaker of strawberry fizz from him. The haremaid cast a glance at Gorath's empty seat, calling to Orkwil, "I say, old lad, where's our big feller got to?"