Brian Jacques - [Redwall 18] - High Rhulain

Sister Snowdrop arose, rubbing her back as she joined him. “Please don’t judge us harshly, friends. Sleep can be a bother and a waste of time to the young, but as the seasons pile heavily upon one it becomes a blessing and a comfort. I, too, will see you all in the morning. Good night!”

The pair shuffled off, carrying the big book between them.

After the door of Cavern Hole had closed behind them, Abbess Lycian threw up her paws in frustration. “Oh bother! Just when we were getting somewhere. I’m not a bit tired yet. Oh well, what must be must be. Is there any tea left in the pot, Burbee?”

“Burr, nary ee drop!” Burbee said, as she held the teapot spout down to demonstrate. “Oi bain’t one fur fancy likkle teapotters, oi’ll go an’ make summ in our own gurt big ’un.”

Lycian picked up their large earthenware mugs. “Good idea. I’ll get our folding chairs and meet you up on the walltop. There’s a full moon out, and it’s a pleasant summer night. I like it up there, don’t you?”

The molemum was feeling tired herself, but she agreed. “Yuss, marm, oi’ll see ee up thurr!”

12

It was a beautiful night outside, still warm from the long, hot summer day. Like a ball of newly churned butter surrounded by stars, the moon reigned over a dark, cloudless sky. Groffgut and his gang lay in the ditch opposite the Abbey’s west wall. They had been passing the time there since midnoon, napping and eating food they had gathered along the way. The water rats had been content during daylight hours, but they were distinctly uneasy now that night had spread its canopy over all. They were awed at the sight of Redwall and none too anxious to pay it a visit or meet its inhabitants. However, it was fairly obvious that their leader was planning something by the way he sat apart from them in the dry ditchbed, focussing his attention on the monumental building which loomed over them.

Pointing his rusty makeshift sword at the west walltop, Groffgut tried to whip up the gang’s enthusiasm. “Willyer lookit dat place, mates? Just sittin’ there, all fulla good stuff fer us!”

Threetooth provided the only response, which was not overly encouraging. “Dey got a h’eagle in dere, an’ anudder big burd, too. I saw dem!”

Groffgut contradicted him, lying blatantly. “O no, yer never! Didden’t I show youse de h’eagle flyin’ away, jus’ afore it went dark?”

Threetooth knew what he had seen, and he said so. “Dat burd was too ’igh up inna sky. ’Twasn’t no h’eagle, neither, it was a seagill.”

Groffgut threw himself on Threetooth and gnawed on his ear. “Are yew callin’ me a liar, eh? I said it was a h’eagle!”

Threetooth was sorry he had spoken. “Owowow! Awright awright, it was a h’eagle. Wowoow! Stop eatin’ me lug’ole, Chief, it was a h’eagle!”

Groffgut kicked him to one side. He curled his lip in scorn at the other vermin. “Yer know the trouble wid youse? Ye’ve all gone soft on me! Yer frykinned of yer own shadders. Right, y’see dis sword?”

He brandished the rusty scythe blade under their noses. “Well, I’ll be usin’ it ter slay anyrat wot’s not wid me. ’Cos if’n yer not wid me, yer agin me, see! Now, up wid yer paws all dose who’s wid the chief o’ dis gang!”

Knowing Groffgut’s dangerous temper, the gang had no option but to raise their paws. Groffgut made a point of counting and naming them to reassure himself.

“Dat’s Frogeye, Plugtail, Rashback, Obbler an’ Fleddy. Oi, Threetooth, is yore paw up or down?”

Threetooth, who had been nursing his chewed ear with both paws, sullenly raised one. “S’up, Chief.”

The gangleader nodded. “Dat’s good, ’cos I’m gunna need yew.” ’

Frogeye knew that he was waiting for somebeast to ask, so he obliged. “Are yer gunna tell us de plan, Chief?”

Groffgut dropped his tone dramatically. “Der’s seven of us, right? Lissen, we sneaks up to dat wall, an’ four of us, me’n Frogeye’n’Rashback, an’ Plugtail, lets Obbler an’ Fleddy climb up an’ stand on our shoulders. Next, the climber gets up onto Obbler’n’Fleddy’s ’eads. It’s easy den. All the climber does is slings my sword up onna rope an’ catch der top o’ that wall, pull hisself over an’ open dat big door to lerrus all in. Good plan, eh mates?”

Threetooth began protesting as he backed off down the ditch. “Y’mean I’ve gorra be de climber? I’m no good at climberin’, I swear I ain’t, Chief!”

Groffgut shoved Rashback and Frogeye forward. “Grab’im!” They seized the unfortunate Threetooth firmly.

Groffgut spat on his rusty blade, eyeing his victim. “I told yer, if’n ye ain’t for me, yer agin me. So, where d’ye want it, eh? In the gut, across yer throat or in yer lousy ’eart, ’old ’im tight, mates!”

Threetooth babbled like a brook in flood. “I don’t wanna get kil’t, I’ll climb, don’t slay me, Chief! I’ll climb der wall for ye!”

Groffgut thrust his face close to Threetooth. “Ho yer’ll climb right enuff, or I’ll skin yer alive afore I kills yer. Plug, where’s dat rope we tied de h’ eagle up wid? Knot it round me sword ’andle, will ye.”

All the gang members were young rats, Obbler and Fleddy the two youngest. The latter was becoming quite taken with the idea of burgling Redwall Abbey, but he had a question to ask of his leader first.

“Ye said der was all sortsa good stuff in dat place, Chief. Wot sorta good stuff?”

Groffgut saw this as an opportunity to fire his gang to great efforts. Unfortunately, he was not good at speech making. “Er, lotsa good stuff! Everythink’s in der, mates.”

Young Fleddy pressed him further. “Y’mean good stuff like nice vikkles, Chief?”

The gang leader nodded sagely. “Aye, more’n yew could eat, loads more!”

Obbler picked his teeth with a grimy claw. “Huh, I ’ope der’s more’n Fleddy kin eat, ’cos I wanna fill me belly, too. I likes h’ apple pie, ’cos I ’ad a bit once, an’ it tasted nice!”

Groffgut clapped him heartily on the back. “Don’t fret yer’ead, mate. They got enuff h’apple pies fer all of us!”

A moment later, Groffgut was sorry that he had spoken. It seemed that the rest of the gang were fond of pies, though each had his own individual favourite.

“An’ strawb’rry pies, too, Chief?”

“My ole granny used ter bake tater pies, wid onions in ’em. D’yer think dey’ll ’ave tater pies like me ole granny’s?”

“Blackberry pies is bestest, big fat juicy ones!”

“Worrabout plum pies, bet they’re juicier, eh, Chief?”

“Roobab pies is good, wid lotsa ’oney on, though. D’yer think dey puts ’oney on their roobab pies in der, Chief?”

Groffgut kicked the last speaker soundly, having heard enough about their favourite pies. “Will youse all shurrup? Yis yis, dey’ve got loadsa diff’rent pies in der. Now let’s gerron wid it, eh!”

Creeping out of the ditch, the gang made it across the path, into the shadow of the wall. Groffgut and the three he had nominated flattened themselves against the wall.

Their leader whispered urgently to Fleddy and Obbler, “Cummon youse two, up yer get. Stand tight, mates!”

It was not as easy as it had sounded. There were muttered complaints as soon as the two younger rats began clambering over the four who formed the bottom line.

“Nyyurk! Don’t stand on me nose like dat, clumsypaws!”

“Oooh, yew stuck yore footpaw in me eye, gerroff!”

“Stop ticklin’ an’ git yer tail outta me ear, willyer!”