Brian Jacques - Redwall #20 - Eulalia!

Maudie shot off toward the scene. Stopping short of the rocks, she looked up and saw Vizka and his vermin, almost halfway up. Throwing back her head, she sucked in a deep breath and gave out full blast with the Salamandastron war cry, several times. "Eulaliiiaaaa! Eula-liiiiaaaa! Eulaliiiiiaaaaa!"

From his vantage point, Rangval saw the big badger turn and run to the rear of the plateau. The warning had reached him in time. He began hurling rocks down at the Bludgullet crew. Vizka's vermin were spread out too wide for the missiles to wreak much damage, but they had the effect of stopping them in their upward climb.

Rangval came bounding down to earth, where Orkwil was awaiting him. Seizing the young hedgehog's paw, the squirrel raced off, panting as he explained. "Those badgers are bein' attacked from both sides, they ain't goin' to last long unless somebeast gets up to that flat hilltop an' helps 'em!"

As they neared the base of the rocks, Maudie signalled them from her cover in the bushes. "Over here, chaps!"

They joined her speedily, but there was no time for talking. Maudie held up her paw for silence. Rustling among the bushes and the sounds of vermin voices warned them that the area was being searched.

"Why ain't we serposed ta kill 'em?"

" 'Cos der cap'n wants ta see who it was dat shouted der warnin' to dem stripe'ounds."

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"Garr, we should be able ta jus' gut 'em!"

"Yew do dat, an der cap'n'll gut yew, now belt up an' git lookin'!"

The searchers were almost upon them, when Maudie had an idea. She whispered to her two companions, "I've just thought of a wheeze, chaps, follow me an' play along, we're sea vermin, remember." She began thrashing the bushes with her spear, giving a passable imitation as one of the Bludgullet's crew. "Nah, I don't see nobeast round 'ere, 'ave yew spotted 'em yet, Grubsnout?"

Catching on quickly, Rangval snarled, "Dis is daft, bucko, dey wuddent 'ang around 'ere after shoutin out a warnin'. Woddya t'ink, Bloogle?"

Realising the remark was aimed at him, Orkwil acquitted himself well as he replied, "We ain't supposed ter t'ink, dat's Cap'n Vizka's job. Cap'n sez search, so we search. I says we try annuder place, mebbe up dere."

The stoat Bilger joined them. "Duh, I'll come wid ya, mates!"

Even though the night had fallen, Rangval caught Orkwil's look of alarm, as Bilger threw a paw about the young hedgehog's shoulders. He was about to act when Maudie stepped in. She tapped the stoat's back, warning him. "Watch out fer dat branch, bucko!"

The stoat turned, presenting the side of his jaw as a perfect target. "Duh, wot branch is dat?"

The haremaid's clenched right paw shot out. "Dat one! Huh, don't say I diddent warn ya!"

The weasel, Jungo, who was as dull-witted as Bilger, saw him fall. He hurried over to Bilger's side. "Bilge, are ya 'urted, mate?"

Emboldened by Maudie's swift solution, Orkwil scoffed at Jungo. "Walked inter a branch an' knocked hisself out cold. Huh, fancy sendin' dat t'ickhead out ta look fer somebeast, 'e cuddent find 'is tail iffen it wasn't anchored to 'is be'ind!"

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Jungo found the remark quite hilarious. "Hahaw-hawhaw! Dat's a good 'un, tail anchored to 'is be'ind. Hawhawahaw! I must remember dat 'un!"

Trying not to draw further attention to themselves, the three friends ducked off, making their way uphill. Rangval went slightly ahead of the other two, being a swift and skilled climber, he soon made his way to the lip of the plateau. The rogue squirrel was halfway over the edge, when he saw Gorath striding toward him, brandishing his huge pitchfork, Tung.

Whipping off his floppy hat, Rangval hastily identified himself. "Go easy with that thing, sir, me'n me pals have come from Redwall Abbey to help ye. My name's Rangval." He shook off the tawdry frock coat, displaying his bushy tail.

Reversing the fork, Gorath proffered the handle. Rangval grasped it and was hauled up alongside the big, young badger.

Maudie's voice rang out from below. "I say, old sport, could you lend me a paw, too, wot?" In an instant she, too, was pulled up onto the plateau.

A moment of silence went by, then Rangval looked at her. "Where's Orkwil?"

The haremaid shrugged uneasily. "He's with you, isn't he?"

The rogue squirrel shook his head. "No, I thought he was with you?"

"Gorath! Heeeelp!" It was Salixa, the Brownrats had got past her, there were nearly a score of them on the plateau. The three defenders were forced to forget Orkwil for that moment. They charged headlong at the Brownrats, who were trying to hem Salixa in, and cut her off from Gorath.

Throughout his pursuit of Gorath, Stringle had been constantly sending runners back, these were to report the horde's progress, keeping Gruntan Kurdly up-to-date on the hunt. The Brownrat chief took these messages one of

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two ways, either with bored disinterest or bad-tempered criticism. Gruntan was, as per usual, more concerned with his desire for food, specifically eggs. The hulking Brownrat leader considered himself to be a connoisseur, and an expert on the subject.

The latest messenger, a large, sleek-limbed female named Skruttle, was forced to stand and wait before submitting her report. Nobeast talked whilst Gruntan was speaking. At that moment he had an audience of young rats, and was holding forth to them on his favourite topic.

"Oh, aye, mates, I've et 'em all, every kind of egg knowed to bird or beast. From gooses to wrens, an' everyone atween. Seagulls, plovers, pigeons, thrush, starlin's, sparrers, rooks or cuckoos, you name 'em, I've boiled 'em!"

Gruntan could see Skruttle waiting, but he ignored her in favour of a young Brownrat, who piped up, "Do ye always boil yore eggs, Chief?"

Gruntan's formidable stomach wobbled as he chuckled. "Thud'n'blunder, wot other way is there, young 'un? Ye can take it from me, once an egg's boiled it's perfect. The only way it can be spoilt is by a lousy peeler, some dumble-pawed idjit who can't take the shell off'n an 'ard-boiled egg proper!" He scowled darkly at the older Brownrats, his servants. "Aye, an' there's enough of those round

'ere----" He turned his attention to the runner. "Haharr, an'

wot sorta bad news is Stringle sendin' me? Don't stan' there like a slug in a slopbasin, make yore report!"

Skruttle narrated the message. "Cap'n Stringle sez to tell you that he's got the giant stripe'ound surrounded, atop of a stone 'ill. But 'e sez there's two stripe'ounds now, the big 'un an' a smaller one, prob'ly a maid." She paused awkwardly, shuffling her paws. "So that's wot Cap'n Stringle told me to tell ye, Boss, we've got the stripe'ounds surrounded."

Gruntan cut in on the messenger. "Where's this stone 'ill where they're at?"

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Skruttle gestured with her tail. "Up north in the woodlands, 'bout a quarter day's march. Cap'n Stringle's waitin' on yore orders, Boss."

Gruntan heaved a snort of irritation. "Don't tell me, the great Cap'n Stringle's waitin' on me to come an' do the job for 'im. Well, ain't 'e?"

Skruttle nodded dumbly.

Gruntan climbed laboriously onto his litter seat, calling orders to his bearers. "Up off'n yore hunkers, ye layabouts! Break camp, we're movin' north. Stay outta that ditch, cut off around the Abbey an' go that way. Ahoy, you young 'uns, d'ye want a job?"

The young Brownrats stood to attention eagerly.

Gruntan called his old ratwife healer, Laggle. "Keep an eye on them, stay ahead o' me litter. See if'n ye can scout out any fresh eggs, there's none left in this neighbour'ood. Mind, I only wants good, big eggs, don't go bringin' me no wren or robin eggs. Go on, off with ye, I'll be folio win', keep goin' north."

Back in the woodlands around the sandstone plateau, Stringle's fortunes had changed for the worse. Instead of being the hunter, he now found that his horde was being attacked by a tribe of vengeful Guosim. Log a Log Osbil's shrew warriors came hurtling out of the trees, yelling their battle cries as they hit the Brownrats' rear ranks. Stringle was forced to turn and fight, leaving those attacking the plateau to their own devices. The Guosim fought like mad-beasts, any Brownrat they seized was shown no quarter. Within a very short time they slew more than a score of the vermin. Guosim rapiers flashed in the dawnlight as Osbil and his tribe sent fear into the hearts of the foe while they started up a Bladechant.