Brian Jacques - Rakkety Tam

The Abbeymaids did as they were bidden. They had to wait only a brief moment before the two squirrel warriors returned. Doogy began retying the ropes that had been stretched around the tree, whilst Tam spoke reassuringly to the liberated prisoners. “My friend is binding the guards to this tree. I hope ye didn’t mind us borrowing your cloaks. We’ve dressed them up to look like you two, in case anybeast wakes during the night. Now let’s get away from here as quick an’ silently as possible.”

Brooky suddenly halted at the sight of the sentry leaning up against the hornbeam, but Doogy urged her onward. “Dinna be feared, lassie, he’ll no’ be botherin’ ye!”

Neither Abbeymaid had ever encountered a slain creature before. The ottermaid crept gingerly past the dead ermine. “You mean you killed him . . . and the guards?”

Doogy raised his eyes skyward, as if seeking patience. “Marm, they’re vermin! The foebeasts, ye ken? Would ye sooner be back there roped tae a tree?”

Armel shook her head. “Please forgive our foolishness. We are more than grateful that you and your friend saved our lives.” She placed her paw upon Tam’s. “I’m sorry. We’ll take the time to thank you properly back at the Abbey. Oh . . . wait!”

Tam gazed into the most beautiful eyes he had ever seen. “What is it, miss? We can’t wait, we’ve got to go, fast!”

The squirrelmaid shook her pretty head. “I must go back for the sword. That fox Shard took it from me. It’s hidden under his cloak!”

Tam barred her path back to the camp. Puzzled, he enquired, “Sword, what sword? What are you talking about, miss . . . ?”

“Armel,” she replied. “My name is Sister Armel. Who are you, sir, and where do you come from? Please answer me!”

Tam was frankly bewildered, but Sister Armel fascinated him. “My name’s Rakkety Tam MacBurl, an’ he’s Wild Doogy Plumm. I’m from up north, the border, but Doogy’s a Highlander. Why?”

Armel’s eyes shone with joy. She seized Tam’s paw. “The Borderer who is a force for good! Tell me, why aren’t you wearing a sword, Mister MacBurl?”

Tam was bewildered by her question. “Er, I had to give it up in exchange for something. Why, Sister? Is it important?”

Armel pressed on with her interrogation. “It’s vital, sir. Would you say that you’d lost your sword?”

Doogy interrupted. “Aye, marm, ye could say that, but we don’t have time tae stand here gossipin’. Move yersel’, Tam, afore the vermin come after us!”

Normally Tam would have heeded his friend’s warning, but something he could neither explain nor understand was urging him to listen to the squirrelmaid. “You go, Doogy. Take the ottermaid with ye. I must hear our friend out. We’ll catch up with ye shortly.”

The Highlander shook his head at Tam’s attitude. “Ah hope ye know what yore doin’, mate. We’ll await ye near the path, where ah left mah shield an’ claymore. Good luck tae ye both!”

When the Highlander and the ottermaid had gone, Tam turned to Armel. “Doogy’s right, Sister, we shouldn’t stay long here. So, please, tell me what this is all about.”

Realising the urgency of the situation, the squirrelmaid tried to explain briefly. “In a dream, I was told by a long-dead warrior to take his sword and search for he who pursues the vermin lord. His exact words were ‘The Borderer who is a force for good, that warrior who sold and lost his sword.’ That white fox, Captain Shard, he stole the sword from me. Mister MacBurl, I think you are the warrior who can get it back.”

The border warrior’s heart melted at the hope shining from the maid’s soft brown eyes. He smiled. “You can call me Tam. I’ll get that sword for ye, Sister, but ye stay out of the way when we get back to the vermin camp. Here, take my little dagger, ye may need it.”

Armel took the Sgian Dhu, which fitted her paw perfectly. “Thank you, Tam. You may call me Armel.”

He winked boldly at her. “Lucky me, I’ve lost a sister and gained a friend. Right, let’s go an’ get this sword, Armel!”

Nothing had stirred in the camp since Tam and Armel left. Vermin slept around the bed of glowing embers that had once been the campfire. Gulo the Savage lay on one side, facing away from the white ashes, his mouth lolling open as he emitted hoarse, rasping snores. Shard sat bent almost double, his shoulders rising and falling beneath his cloak.

Tam peered from behind the double-topped oak, assuring himself that nobeast was on the alert. Armel crouched alongside the warrior, pointing out the white fox captain.

“He’s the one. Look, I can see the sword! It’s hanging from his shoulders by a cord. Abbot Humble had the sword wrapped in a soft cloth sheath. See the tip of it sticking out beneath the fox’s cloak, on the left side?”

Tam nodded. “I can see it now, Armel. Listen, get up into this tree. We’ll travel faster by branch-hoppin’ if they come after us.”

The squirrelmaid began climbing into the lower boughs. “I was brought up in an Abbey, so I mightn’t be very good at what you call branch-hopping, Tam.”

Tam flattened himself upon the ground, drawing his dirk. “Don’t fret, you’ll learn. I’ll be with ye.”

He slid forward carefully, feeling the heat of the glow upon his face. Keeping his eyes on Shard’s back, the warrior crawled up behind him. Reaching out, he touched the sword wrapping, testing it with a gentle tug. Then he froze! Shard moved in his sleep, mumbling incoherently as he pawed at his back. Tam figured that the cord must still be holding the sword to the fox’s shoulders. It was not in his nature to kill a sleeping beast, even one of Gulo’s vermin. With this in mind, there was only one course of action. Reversing his grip on the dirk, he took hold of it by the blade. Standing up straight, Tam brought the heavy bound handle cracking down on his enemy’s head.

Shard had a thicker skull than the border squirrel had reckoned with. The white fox captain stood up, letting out a howl of pain. Tam struck him again harder; this time the maneuver worked, but not before an ermine awoke, shouting, “Guards! Guards! Attack!”

The ermine came dashing around the glowing fire remnants toward the intruder, grappling to free the sickle sword from his waist sash. Tam sprang into action. Catching the fox as he fell backward, the squirrel heaved him bodily upon the ermine, sending them both crashing into the fire pit.

Leaning forward, Tam slashed at the rear of the fox captain’s cloak, ripping it wide and severing the retaining cord of Martin’s sword. He grabbed it and dashed to the oak as an uproar broke out behind him.

Gulo was bawling, “Yaaaaargh! Cut him down, get him!”

Bounding up into the oak branches, Tam rapped out orders to Armel, who was waiting wide-eyed with fright. “Jump! Go for the hornbeam!”

She hesitated a moment, then felt herself pulled out into space as the warrior took her with him, guiding her encouragingly. “That’s the way, mate. Grab that big limb. Now swing yoreself an’ drop down into that elm on the right. Good, keep goin’, onto that yew. Fall across one of the lower branches. Now swing—hup, two, three—straight into the willow. That’s the stuff, Armel. Yore learnin’ fast!”

Elated by her newfound agility and pleased with Tam’s praise, Redwall’s Infirmary Sister went looping and hurtling through the leafy terraces.

Tam continued guiding her. “Now run up this sycamore branch and bounce. Push yoreself out. Use that thin elm branch to throw yoreself forward into the beech. Keep goin’, I’m right behind ye. Don’t stop, we’ll soon be at the path!”

Tam allowed Armel to learn her natural rhythm before he glanced back at the howling crowd of vermin coming through the woodlands. He looped the covered sword around one shoulder, beckoning her to continue. “Carry on, I’ll be with ye in a tick!”