Brian Jacques - Redwall #20 - Eulalia!

This time the branch snapped, right through the centre. The three friends sat down hard on the ground with the impact. Scrabbling furiously, they rid themselves of their bonds, leaping up to meet their foes.

Saltear had a dagger in either paw, he dashed toward

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the trio, but was stopped in his tracks by Rangval. The rogue squirrel swung his half of the branch, catching the stoat a terrific blow to the side of his neck. Saltear died with an expression of shock on his face, with his neck tilted at an odd angle.

Undril dodged Orkwil's first attempt, he dragged a small cutlass out so forcefully that it severed his belt on leaving, which caused his pantaloons to fall down around his footpaws. He tripped and fell. That was all Orkwil needed, and he took full advantage.

Whack! Splat! Thud! Smack!

Orkwil battered away like a madbeast in a frenzy, screaming and yelling as he belaboured his fallen enemy.

Maudie dodged Ruglat's first three spear thrusts with contemptuous grace. On his fourth try at slaying her, she winded him, with a swift left to the gut. Knocking the spear from the big weasel's grasp, she challenged him. "C'mon, barrelbottom, let's see what you're made of, wot!"

Ruglat stayed down a moment, gaining his breath, then he jumped up, grinning viciously as he charged her with clenched paws and bared teeth. "Yew asked fer dis, rabbet!"

She merely swayed to one side, pummelling his head as he blundered by her. Maudie booted his rump, sending him sprawling. She stood over him, waiting. "Rabbit yourself, you overblown sloptub. C'mon, up you come, I'm not jolly well finished with you yet, laddie buck, you've got a lesson to learn, wot, wot!"

Ruglat threw himself at her, screeching with rage. Maudie feinted with a left, then delivered three rights, one to each eye, and a real stinger to the snout. Dropping into a crouch, she punished the weasel's stomach and ribs with a veritable tattoo.

Suddenly Ruglat could take no more, he lurched off to one side and grabbed his spear, snarling through battered lips, "Stay back, back! Foller me an' I'll gut ye!" He turned

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and ran, but Orkwil's outstretched footpaw stopped his headlong flight, quite by accident. The weasel tripped, and fell onto his own spearpoint.

Rangval threw a paw to his brow in amazement. "Ah, now haven't we got a grand ould warrior here? Shure he's polished off two vermin without even tryin'!"

Orkwil had sat down, dropping his piece of branch. Never having slain a living creature before, he was obviously in shock, hardly listening as Rangval carried on joking about the fight with the vermin.

"One vermin apiece, that was Miss Maudie's plan, but you had to have two. Haharr, you greedy liddle hog, where'd you learn to trip a vermin, at the same time ye were pulverisin' his pal, eh?"

Shaking her head, Maudie silenced the rogue squirrel with a severe glance. She had witnessed battle shock in several young Long Patrol hares, during their first encounter with the foebeast. It was not a thing to joke about. The sympathetic haremaid sat down beside her young hedgehog friend, giving him the benefit of her experience, he was younger than both she and Rangval. "Well, you're a warrior now, Orkwil, how does it feel, pretty awful I expect, havin' to kill or be killed, wot?"

Orkwil stared at her, a mixture of bewilderment and guilt in his eyes. "I feel terrible, did you feel like that when it first happened to you, marm?"

Maudie felt older, at being addressed as "marm," but she merely nodded, and patted his paw. "Blubbed my eyes out, actually, but old Sergeant Brassjaw soon straightened me out. Told me that if I were a mother with a few babes, or an old 'un, who was too weak to defend himself, I'd be thankin' the warriors. Aye, those who made the land safe for them to sleep in their beds, without fear of bein' left murdered in a blazin' homestead. You just think of what those vermin were plannin' for us, laddie buck!"

Orkwil stared at both dead Sea Raiders for a moment, then he spoke out indignantly. "Aye, they were goin' to

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roast an' skin us, right in front of the Abbey gates. Well, there's three vermin won't be doin' any more roastin' an' skinnin'!"

Retrieving his daggers, Rangval joined the pair. "Come on, mates, we don't want to be found hangin' about here if'n the ould fox comes back. Now, the second part of our plan has been thought up by meself. So, let's get ourselves rigged out in those vermins' rags."

Maudie and Orkwil spoke in unison. "What for?"

The rogue squirrel sheathed his daggers. "By me grannie's moustache, I can see you two wouldn't be much good as rogues. Suppose we runs into that vermin crew agin, eh, or the other mob, the Brownrats? Wouldn't it be far better if'n we looked as though we were villains like them? A spot o' disguise an' cammyflage never hurt anybeast, right?"

Maudie began divesting the carcass of Ruglat of its tatty finery, baggy blouse, ragged breeches, and a grubby turban. "Super wheeze, old lad. Come on, young Orkwil, get y'self geared up. We've got to go and see what all the hullabaloo over yonder's about, wot. Much better t'go in mufti. Well, how do I look, just call me maraudin' Maudie, chaps!"

Orkwil took a fit of giggling at the sight. Maudie had bound her long ears into the turban, and was rubbing mud over her face. She scowled at him.

"Haharr, one more titter out o' yew, landlubber, an' I'll gut yore mainstays an' keelwallop yore vitals, or whatever it is those seagoin' chaps say!"

Rangval had tied up his bushy tail into the back of Saltear's tawdry frock coat. He donned the stoat's floppy seaboots and slouch hat, then danced a comic jig. "Shiver me drawers an' drop me anchor, 'tis meself, ould Rangval the Rover. Hoho, an' who's this bully?"

Getting into the spirit of things, Orkwil had put on Un-dril's broad, brass-buckled belt, canvas kilt, striped waistcoat and fringed headband. He brandished the weasel's

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long knife, snarling. "Ahoy, I'm Orkwil the 'Orrible Outlaw! Rot me timbers, mateys, where are we bound? Haharr, hoho an' heehee!"

Rangval suddenly went serious. "Enough o' this foolin' about, now. We keep our heads down, an' keep ourselves to ourselves. Stick together an' look out for one another. Right, let's march!"

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32

Evening shades were lengthening the shadows, the sun was washing the western horizon in scarlet as the three friends arrived at their destination. Sounds of warfare marred the closing of the summer day as Maudie surveyed the high sandstone plateau from the bushes some distance away.

Orkwil was behind the haremaid, jumping up and down. "I can't see properly from here, what's goin' on?"

Maudie stood on tip-paw, straining to find out. "I'm not sure, 'fraid I can't see all I'd like to. Mayhaps we'd do better if we got a bit closer, wot."

Rangval kicked off his floppy seaboots. "No sense in runnin' right into trouble. Stay here, mates, I'll climb that ould beech over yonder. From the top o' there I should get a fair view o' things." The rogue squirrel was an expert climber, he scaled up into the top heights of the beech. Perching among the swaying foliage, he called down to his friends, who were at the base of the wide trunk, "Maudie, it's yore badger, the bigbeast, Gorath, an' another badger I ain't seen afore, smaller, could be a maid, they're defendin' the top o' those rocks alone."

Maudie wished she could climb the tree to see properly

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what was taking place. She called back to Rangval, "I can hear lots of noise, who is it they're fighting?"

Rangval climbed even higher before answering. "Shure, I can't see, but whoever it is, they're on the far side of those rocks. But I can hear a bit better up here, sounds like Kurdly's horde t'me. Oh no, they're really in trouble now, I can see the fox an' his crew, they're sneakin' up the back slopes o' the rocks. If'n they reaches the top they'll come up behind the badgers. Somebeast needs to warn 'em, quick!"