Brian Jacques - Redwall #20 - Eulalia!

Daucus, whilst not barring the shrew's way, tried reasoning with Osbil. "Think first, Log a Log Osbil, you haven't got the numbers to face the Brownrat horde."

Osbil smiled coldly. "We ain't goin' to face 'em, Father, this is goin t'be an ambush, hit and run, my Guosim'U defeat the vermin in any way we can."

Barbowla placed a paw on the Guosim chieftain's shoulder. "Me'n Kachooch started this journey with you and we

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would be proud to come along. Skipper here will take charge of my otters, my band will stay as defenders at Redwall."

Osbil grasped Barbowla's paw. "Thank you, friend."

The Tabura stared levelly at Osbil. "Your friends are giving you good advice, young one. It is a dangerous course you are bound on."

Osbil had his paw on the wallgate latch. "But it is one that I must follow. This sword at my side, it was my father's blade. He was murdered by Brownrats. I am now Log a Log, as he was. It is Guosim law that he must be avenged, we have sung our Bladechant, yet his killers still live. Such a thing brings shame to me and my tribe. Can you understand, Tabura?"

The old badger clamped his paw over that of the shrew. He gave one swift tug, and the wallgate stood open wide. "I understand you completely, my young friend. Go now, exact the price of your father's blood from his killers! Banish shame and live on in honour. But remember this, do not let the enemy get behind you, sleep with one eye open and your blade drawn. May fortune go with you!"

Osbil saluted with his father's rapier. "And may wisdom attend your words always, Tabura, sir!"

A moment later the shrews and otters vanished into the fastnesses of the vast woodland.

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BOOK THREE The Battle of the Plateau

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The great sword of Martin the Warrior sheared through the bonds which held Maudie, Rangval and Orkwil suspended from the tree. They were immediately surrounded by the Blugullet's crew.

Vizka Longtooth snapped out orders. "Chop dat branch down an' yoke dem by dere necks to it!" The branch was promptly hacked down. Vizka spoke to his captives as they were roughly bound neck and paws to it. "T'ought ya was goin' ter die, didn't ya?"

Maudie could not resist a cool reply. "Actually, some-thin' like that did speed through my agile, young brain, old thing. Rangval, d'you think our friend's savin' us for some fairly dreadful jape, wot?"

The rogue squirrel sighed. "Sure an' why wouldn't he, him bein' a double-dyed villain. I wouldn't put anythin' like that past him."

They were now standing shoulder to shoulder, with their paws and necks tied tightly to the branch.

The golden fox showed his long fangs in a sinister grin. "Ya won't be talkin' so fancy when I'm finished wid ya. We're takin' ya back to de Abbey, we'll see wot good friends ye've got dere. If'n dey don't open d'gates an' let us in fer a visit--"

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Maudie interrupted. "Wait, don't tell me, you'll stamp your paws a lot, an' never speak to them again. Right?"

Vizka shook his head, still grinning. "Wrong, 'cos iffen dey don't open der gates, I'll roast an' skin ya. Right in front o' dem same gates." Brandishing his new sword in a flashing arc, Vizka signalled his crew. "Bring 'em along, we're bound for de Abbey. Steer clear o' dat ditch an' stay to der woodlands. March!"

Orkwil had to march almost tip-paw, even though both his friends crouched slightly to assist him. The young hedgehog had been warned not to mention the sword, but he could not take his eyes off Martin's blade. He strained his neck to one side, muttering to Maudie, "We've got to get the sword, an' make a break for it!"

Keeping her gaze straight ahead, the haremaid replied, "Certainly, old scout, but not right away. That foxy cad's a bit too taken with the sword, watch the way he swings it about. He'd probably chop us into fishbait if we tried anything too soon. Give it a little while yet, then we'll see what we can jolly well do, wot!"

A surly looking weasel slammed his spearbutt into Maudie's back. "Shut ya gabblin' an git marchin', rabbet!"

Despite the pain from the cruel blow, the haremaid managed to wink cheerily at him. "Right you are, sah, this rabbit's marchin', wot! But before our little jaunt's over, I'd like a word with you. Just the two of us, in private, eh."

Some distance to the south, the two badgers sat down near a sandstone outcrop. Salixa produced a flask of penny-cloud cordial, passing it to Gorath. "Would you like something to eat?" Her companion seemed somewhat preoccupied, he merely took a gulp from the flask, returning it with a nod of thanks. The young badgermaid tried not to stare at Gorath. He turned, facing the way they had come. His eyes roved restlessly as he touched the deep crimson scar on his brow. Salixa glanced anxiously at him. "Is your

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wound hurting you? It always looks so red and sore. If you like, I'll go and find some herbs to treat it."

Gorath gave her one of his quick rare smiles. "No thank you, the wound hardly ever hurts me now. Sometimes it will itch slightly, when I feel uneasy."

The slender badgermaid's voice sounded sad. "Is it me? I'm sorry if I make you feel uneasy...."

Gorath's mighty paw covered hers, gently. "Oh no, you could never make me feel uneasy, in fact I've never felt so happy as when I'm with you. Salixa, look at me, I'm uneasy because we're being watched. No, don't look where I'm looking, just keep holding my paw and walk with me."

Salixa kept her gaze trustingly on Gorath. "Where are we going, are we still being watched?"

As they walked he nodded, answering her as if keeping up some trivial chat. "We're going to climb these sandstone ledges, all the way to the top. I've seen who is on our trail, it's those Brownrats. By the way the bushes are moving there's a lot of them, but I can defend our position from the top of those rocks."

As he helped her onto the ledges, Salixa replied, "Gorath, are you going to take the Bloodwrath?"

He swung her effortlessly up to the next level. "I can feel it beginning to press down on me, but it would be a mistake to give in to Bloodwrath. If anything happened to me, then what would become of you?"

The badgermaid clasped her big friend's paw tightly. "The Tabura has given you wise advice, Gorath."

Using his pitchfork, Tung, he vaulted onto a higher ledge. Salixa held onto the fork handle as he hauled her up. Gorath nodded. "Aye, the Tabura is wisdom itself, I wish I had met him long ago. Only a short way to climb now. We'd best hurry, I think they're coming."

Slingstones and a few arrows bounced off the ledges. Stringle stayed among the bushes, urging his Brownrats

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forward, starting up a warchant as they charged the ledges. "Kurdly! Kurdly! Kill kill kill! Yeeeeaaaaahhh!"

Gorath pushed Salixa onto the plateau, leaping up beside her. "Keep your head down, they're shooting stones and shafts at us!"

Salixa immediately proved she was no helpless maid. Unwinding a slingshot from her slender waist, she gathered up a few of the hard streambed pebbles which had been thrown by the Brownrats and began retaliating vigorously. Gorath ranged the surface of the plateau, checking that there was no easy way up.

Stringle had not relished the idea of meeting up with the giant stripehound, more so when he saw there were now two of them. Admittedly, the female was much smaller and slimmer, but who could tell with stripehounds, maybe they were all berserk warriors. However, the moment he saw both beasts running off to safety, instead of turning to the attack, Stringle rapidly gained confidence. Still holding his position in the bushes, he worked himself into a fine old battle rage, just as he had seen Gruntan Kurdly do. "Ya-haaarr! Gerrup them rocks an' toss 'em both down 'ere t'me. I'll git two spearpoints ready t'stick their 'eads on. Go on, buckoes, go on, up ye go!"