Brian Jacques - Redwall #20 - Eulalia!

The young hedgehog shrugged, but Skipper nodded toward the Abbey building. "Said he was goin' back to the sickbay to put his paws up."

Sister Atrata nodded sagely. "Probably the best thing for him, after recovering from the fever. Orkwil, why don't you and Miss Maudie go and check on your friend. Gorath might not know his way back to the infirmary."

Rangval joined them, rubbing his stomach ruefully. "Sure, a stretch o' the paws might do me a bit o' good, I think I overdid the ould feastin' a touch!"

Orkwil prodded the rogue squirrel's distended midriff. "Overdid the feastin' a touch, did you say? I think you must have a heavier touch than a regiment of starved squirrels, it's a wonder you haven't burst!"

Rangval wrinkled his nose at Maudie. "Faith, will ye lissen t'the creature, I suppose ye'll begrudge me second helpin's when we return t'the feast!"

As dusk darkened to night, lanterns were lit on the ramparts. Down on the lawn some of the elders lit a fire, to roast some of last autumn's chestnuts, which Marja Dub-bidge had stored in the belltower. Skipper Rorc was helping Barbowla and Kachooch to carry sleeping Dibbuns up to the dormitory, when they met Maudie and her two friends hurrying down the stairs into Great Hall. The otter chieftain stood aside to let them pass. "Where are ye off to in such a rush, missie?"

The haremaid's jaw was set in a grim line as she explained. "We're looking for Gorath, he's not in his room."

Barbowla shrugged. "It's a warm night, Maudie, yore big badger might've chose to sleep out in the open. Maybe the orchard, or over by the pond."

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Orkwil shook his head. "Then why would he want to take Tung, his big pitchfork, with him? It ain't in the room, an' Gorath's not in his bed. I'm worried!"

"Owow, git yer paws off me, I ain't done nothin'!"

Benjo Tipps pushed the surly watervole through the doorway. The burly Cellarhog had him tight by one ear.

Skipper Rorc eyed him with dislike. "Ahoy, Benjo, where'd ye come across this mis'rable sneak?"

The Cellarhog gestured with his free paw. "By the little north wallgate, Skip, he tried t'run off but I collared him smartish."

The vole, who had his head bandaged due to his fall from the walltop, squealed unmercifully. "Yeek, yowch! Lemme go, yore 'urtin' my wound!"

Benjo gave his ear an extra tweak, and spoke severely. "If'n ye don't tell us wot you were up to at the wallgate, yore in danger of losin' a lug. Now speak!"

The vole's explanation was a mixture of indignation and self-pity. "I went up t'the healers room, to see if'n that Atrata mouse'd change the dressin' on me injury, but she wasn't there. Suddenly I was grabbed, by that giant stripedog. He 'eld a big pitchfork to me stummick. I thought he was goin' to kill me!"

Orkwil had not liked the vole from their first encounter. He expressed this in no uncertain terms. "Listen, sourface, I'll kill ye meself if'n ye don't tell us where Gorath went. Get on with it!"

Hanging on to Benjo's paw, to ease the pressure on his ear, the vole explained rapidly. "The stripedog said he had business with the golden fox. He made me take 'im t'the north wallgate, said I wasn't to tell nobeast, an' told me to lock the gate after he'd left. So I did, an' that's when this fat spikepig laid paws on me. Yeeeek, yore draggin' me ear off, leggo leggo!"

Benjo squeezed the ear harder. "Tell me, slutchface, who was the fat hedgepig that laid paws on ye? I can't see no fat hedgepig round here, can you, Skip?"

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The otter chieftain scratched his rudder thoughtfully. "We ain't never had a fat 'edgepig at Redwall, only a fine, big, 'andsome Cellarhog!"

The vole caught on fast. "Please sir, ye fine, big, handsome Cellarhog, release me, I beg ye!"

Benjo flung the vole from him contemptuously. "You've overstayed yore welcome at this Abbey, ye wretch. If'n I see ye around here come dawnlight, I'll throw ye from the walltops. Now get out o' my sight!"

As the vole slunk away, Skipper addressed Maudie. "Looks like yore badger friend's gone, miss, an' there's nought ye can do about it."

The haremaid looked at the otter. "Why so?"

Skipper gestured to the woodlands outside the walls. "Mossflower's teemin' with Kurdly's mob, an' a vermin shower o' Sea Raiders, far too dangerous for a young 'un like you t'be wanderin' about round the trees."

Maudie treated the otter to an icy stare. "I have only two words to say t'you, sah. Pish an' tush!"

Skipper looked nonplussed. "An' wot's that supposed t'mean?"

Rangval drew a dagger from his belt and twirled it skillfully. "Ah, shure, it means that darlin' Maudie has a mind of her own, bucko. She's goin' out there to find that great, ould lump of a badger. Oh, an' I'm the very beast who'll be goin' with her!"

Orkwil seconded the rogue squirrel promptly.

"Gorath's my friend, too, count me in, Miz Maudie!"

Skipper shrugged and heaved a gruff sigh. "I'll get some volunteers from the Guosim an' come along with ye. Barbowla, are you game for this?"

Maudie interrupted. "Not possible. I'm afraid, Skip, you'll need every beast available to defend these bloomin' walls if there's a vermin attack."

Abbot Daucus, who had wandered up, and eavesdropped on the conversation, stepped forward. "She's right, Skip, besides, I think a few might accomplish more

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than a whole band of Redwallers out in the woodlands. When do you three plan on leaving?"

Rangval sheathed his blade. "Soon as we can, Father. Now would be a good time, whilst the ould feast is rattlin' on atop o' the walls, an' the countryside's nice'n'quiet out there. Sure, nobeast'd notice us slippin' off quietlike."

The Abbot bowed slightly. "As you wish. Take some provisions from the kitchens, and whatever weapons you may come across. Though we're not greatly stocked with arms at Redwall. Go, and good luck to you. Maudie, should you find Gorath, would you be so kind as to bring him back to the Abbey, if only for a short visit and a brief farewell? Before you persuade him to be spirited off to Salamandastron?"

The haremaid curtsied elegantly. "It'd be my pleasure, Father Abbot. Right, stir your stumps, you chaps, quick's the word an' sharp's the action, wot!"

The Abbot accompanied them to the kitchen, where an obliging old molemum packed three small haversacks with foodstuffs enough to last several days. Maudie seldom carried a weapon, Rangval had all the arms he needed, and Orkwil still carried the knife and club he had taken from the vole. The trio had no need to go looking for more protection. As they were passing through Great Hall, Orkwil crossed to the alcove where the great tapestry hung. The Abbot commented to Rangval and Maudie, "He's probably taking his leave of our Abbey Champion."

The haremaid followed the young hedgehog. "A jolly good idea, from what I've heard of Martin the Warrior, think I'll pay my respects, too, wot!"

Before they reached the alcove, Orkwil's shout of alarm echoed around the vaulted hall. Rangval sprang forward, shouting, "Orkwil, what is it?"

The young hedgehog staggered toward them, dragging with him the limp form of Sister Atrata. Abbot Daucus intercepted him, gently he placed the Sister on the ancient floorstones, supporting her head as he made a rapid examination.

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"She's taken a heavy blow to the back of her head, maybe she was pushed, and struck one of the columns."

Maudie knelt by the frail figure of Redwall's healer. "But why? She never hurt anybeast, the Sister was devoted to healing others. Who could have done this?"

Orkwil cried out, his voice rising to an angry shout. "Look, Martin's sword has been taken, an' I'll wager it was that vole who did it. The Sister must've tried to stop him!"

Maudie stared at the spot on the wall where the great sword had been mounted. "Good grief, you're right, old lad, it's not long since Benjo exiled him from the Abbey. He must have come straight here, committed the crimes and left pretty quick."