Brian Jacques - Rakkety Tam

Gulo yawned moodily. “I grant thee, ’tis possible, but where would they be going, and why should they be hiding Askor and taking him with them, eh?”

The white fox explained his reasoning. “Ask thyself, what resistance could two lowly creatures put up against a wolverine? As to whence they have gone, the rats all know of such a place. ’Tis a great stone fortress called Redwall. They say many great treasures are stored within its walls. The rat thou ordered slain, Runneye, he knows exactly where ’tis to be found. A good thing we did not slay him, Lord.”

Gulo, ignoring his captain’s object lesson, was clearly excited. “The rat can take us there?”

Shard touched his sword hilt, smiling thinly. “He loves life too much to refuse.”

Gulo showed his fangs as his claws began working eagerly. Shard noticed the insane light burning in his eyes. “Ye did well, Shard. We will go to this place of treasures. What did ye say ’tis called?”

The white fox repeated the name. “Redwall!”

10

Pain was the first thing Rakkety Tam MacBurl wakened to. His head was one massive ache, and his limbs could not move. Upon opening one eye slowly, Tam found himself lying bound to a pole on the floor of a lantern-lit rock cavern. He tried to rise but fell back, the pole clattering against the stone floor.

Behind him, a voice sounded. “I say, chaps, this tall rascal’s awake, wot!”

From someplace close by, Doogy could be heard, regaining his senses volubly. “Yerrah, ye cowards, sneakin’ up on a body an’ bludgeonin’ him. Get these ropes off mah paws!”

Another voice rang out. “I do believe the little fat villain’s awake, too!”

Paws grabbed hold of Tam and Doogy, dragging them roughly over to the rock wall and propping them up in a seated position. Over a score of hares gathered around them. Tam held his silence until he could make sense of the situation they were in, but not so Doogy.

Furious, the small Highlander roared at an older hare—a sinewy, athletic-looking beast with a battered face, who was wearing a green tunic with three stripes affixed to the sleeve. “Did ye no’ hear me, ye great flappin’, cloth-eared clod? Ah told ye tae get these ropes off’n me!”

The hare avoided his gaze, setting his eyes right ahead. “Sorry, mate, h’I can’t do that h’until Lady Melesme sees ye.”

A tall, elegant hare, much younger than the other, stepped forward. He was wearing a red tunic and had a long rapier belted about his waist. Placing a footpaw upon Doogy, he pushed him flat.

“Get down on the floor, like the confounded, murderin’ snake you are, sirrah!”

Though he was tightly bound, Doogy managed to slew around. His teeth clashed as he snapped at the hare’s footpaw, causing him to dodge backward as the prisoner ranted, “Ah’m no murderer, an’ ye’ve no right tae call me a snake, ye great snot-nosed rabbet!”

The hare raised his footpaw to kick Doogy. “How dare y’call me a rabbit! I’ll teach you a lesson. . . .”

He was wrenched clean off his paws and hurled to one side by the older, green-tunicked hare, who berated him. “Nah, nah, young master Ferdimond, try to be’ave yoreself like a h’officer an’ a gentlebeast, sir!”

The young hare, Ferdimond De Mayne, argued back vociferously. “Bad show, Sarge. You shouldn’t be takin’ the side of that bloomin’ assassin! We’ve lost eight comrades good’n’true to the likes of that confounded worm. I’m going to knock his bally block off, first chance I get. You see if I don’t, wot wot!”

Tam interrupted, calling out indignantly, “That should be easy to do, he’s unable to defend himself. Doogy’s right, we’re not murderers!”

Suddenly the sergeant bellowed, “Stand fast allbeasts for the Lady Melesme!”

The Badger Ruler of Salamandastron strode in among them. Melesme was no longer young, but she was an imposing creature. Tall and powerfully built, she looked every inch a ruler, though clad only in a simple homespun smock with a forge apron belted over it. Turning her dark, liquid eyes upon the sergeant, Melesme spoke in a voice which boomed around the cavern.

“What’s going on here, Wonwill?”

Sergeant Wonwill took a smart pace forward and saluted. “Marm, we h’apprehended these ’ere squirrels near the spot where the slaughter took place. They was loiterin’ round by a burnt-out ship, so we took ’em in for questionin’, marm.”

Melesme beckoned, and Arflow the young sea otter was escorted through the gathering of hares. The badger indicated both captives. “Have you seen either of these before, young ’un?”

Arflow shook his head. “No, marm, it wasn’t them.”

Tam decided it was time to speak his piece. “I could’ve told ye that! It couldn’t have been us who did whatever was supposed to have been done. We were chasin’ after the Gulo beast an’ his white vermin, on the orders of Araltum Squirrelking an’ Idga Drayqueen!”

The Badger Ruler raised her heavy eyebrows. “But you two have the look of warriors. How did you come to be taking orders from those two overblown little idiots? Fortindom, Wilderry, release them!”

Two capable-looking hares, with medals and stars on their pink tunics, marched out. Whipping out their sabres, they sliced through the bonds with a few masterful strokes.

Tam and Doogy stood up, massaging the life back into their numbed paws. Knowing they were in the presence of a Badger Ruler, they bowed courteously. Tam elected himself spokesbeast for them both.

“I thank ye, marm. I’m Rakkety Tam MacBurl, an’ this is my friend, Wild Doogy Plumm. We serve Araltum an’ Idga because we pledged our oath an’ our swords in their service. The only way we can be freed from the bond is to take back an’ return their Royal Banner, stolen by the vermin.”

Melesme issued a mirthless grunt. “Royal Banner, indeed! Is that what those two idiots are up to these days? I’ve had them watched since they came to my groves. Oh, they’re no harm to honest beasts, so I’ve let them be, but I don’t want to ally myself to fools. What is this Royal Banner thing, Tam?”

The warrior squirrel’s jaw tightened. “Just a symbol, marm, part of their silly pomp an’ ceremony. What matters more is that a lot o’ squirrels, some of ’em our friends, were massacred when the Gulo beast stole the flag. Araltum an’ Idga care more for the return of it than the lives of their subjects. We’ll get the flag back, but me an’ Doogy are more concerned with settlin’ the score.”

Doogy’s teeth gritted audibly. “Aye, lady. Guid warriors cannae rest ’til those dirty slayers are paid out in steel for their crimes, ye ken?”

Melesme nodded. “Well spoken, sir. But tell me, who is this Gulo beast? Have you seen him?”

Tam answered. “No, marm, but we’ve seen his tracks, an’ they look like no other creature that ever walked this land. The pawprints are as big as those of a grown badger, but this beast has huge, curved claws, though the fur is so long that it blurs the pawmark. One other thing I must tell ye, the Gulo beast an’ its followers, about a hundred of ’em, feed off the flesh of their victims. We’ve seen the evidence, marm.”

The Badger Ruler looked grim. “I know this—we lost eight fine young hares to them. There was little left by the time my Long Patrol got to the spot. Also there is a drum, we made it for Abbot Humble of Redwall Abbey, as a gift. That has gone the way of your flag. Though such a thing cannot compare with the death of our hares, nonetheless, it is a point of honour that we take back this drum and give it to its rightful owner.”