Brian Jacques - Rakkety Tam

The young galloper stared up into Wonwill’s battered face questioningly. “Eulalia, sah, charge to the bells. Elali. . . .”

Dauncey’s head fell to one side as his eyes clouded over.

The vermin archers were fitting more shafts to their strings. Looking about, Captain Urfig saw that they were alone on the path and that the hares were rising to renew their charge.

The vermin captain shouted out urgent orders. “Shoot quick an’ retreat back into the woodlands!” He whirled about as a roar came from the battlements.

“Haway braaaaaaw!” Rakkety Tam MacBurl and Wild Doogy Plumm were climbing down the Abbey walls, as only two skilful squirrel warriors could. Doogy had his claymore between his teeth; Tam had his jaw clamped around the sword of Martin. The vermin broke and fled, but the two warriors were hard on their paws. Urfig panicked and ran the wrong way. Four others in his vermin gang—two foxes and two ermine—went with him, leaping into the ditch. Doogy threw himself in behind them. They turned to run, but Tam had raced down the path ahead of them. Dropping himself down into the ditch, the border warrior now faced all five of his foes.

Skipper, Ferdimond and Tergen were unbarring the gates when Yoofus scuttled up, waving Tam’s claymore. “Let me at the dirty ould villains. Sure I’ll carve their tails from their throttles!”

Skipper ran out to stop him. “You’ll stay be’ind me. There might be vermin still about out there—easy now.”

Doogy sat on the ditchtop, clipping at daisies with his claymore. He greeted them mournfully. “Ach, I never even got tae raise mah blade. Tam did for ’em all afore I could get goin’. Ye’ll have tae find me a sword like that ’un. ’Tis a braw, bonny blade!”

Tam came walking back up the ditch bed, cleaning the sword on his kilt. He stared at it in wonder, reflecting aloud, “I tell ye, this thing felt like a lightnin’ flash in my paw. The beast who forged this blade knew what he was doin’. I’ll stake my name on that!”

20

Abbot Humble and his team of Redwallers helped the Long Patrol carry their wounded into the Abbey. He walked alongside the stretcher on which the brigadier was being carried.

Humble held the hare’s paw. “I can’t thank you enough for coming to our rescue the way you did, sir.”

Crumshaw’s jaw tightened as he was jolted slightly. “Don’t mention it, Father. All in the line o’ duty, y’know.”

Captain Fortindom and Sergeant Wonwill carried the body of Dauncey between them. Ferdimond De Mayne came hurrying over to place a comforting paw about the shoulders of Dauncey’s twin sister, Kersey.

“There, there now, old gel, what can one say? Your brother went down bravely. He was a perilous warrior, wot!”

Kersey was dry-eyed and tight-faced, obviously in deep shock. A kindly molewife intervened to take care of her. “You’m leave thiz yurr young ’un to oi, zurr. Cumm ee with oi, moi dearie. Ee bee’s needen a gurt rest.”

Sister Armel and Brooky were assisting a hare who had an arrow protruding from his footpaw. As they came through the gate, Tam joined her, still carrying the sword of Martin. “Armel, how are you?”

She nodded at her patient. “Much better than this poor hare, thank you. I heard how you leaped the Abbey wall and slew five of those brutes single-pawed. It was a very brave thing to do, Tam.”

Shuffling awkwardly, the border warrior chuckled. “You’ve been listening to rumours—Doogy was with me. We scaled down the wall. It’s not hard t’do when you know how. As to slayin’ the five vermin, well, I was just in the right place at the right moment.”

Doogy scowled as he trundled past, trailing his sword. “Och, if he fell doon a well, he’d come up wi’ a cake in his paw. Next time yer passin’ oot braw swords, lassie, dinna forget tae save one for the bonny han’some Highlander!”

The pretty squirrelmaid passed the wounded hare to them. “I will, sir, if you can find me a bonny handsome Highlander! Will you and Tam help this patient up to my Infirmary? Come on, I’ll show you the way.”

When they arrived at the Sister’s sickbay, there were other casualties waiting besides the Abbot and Brigadier Crumshaw. Though he was the most seriously wounded, the brigadier refused to be treated until all his injured creatures had been seen to.

He chatted with Tam as he waited. “Heard all about ye, MacBurl. From what I’m told, you’re a brave an’ perilous fighter, wot! Six o’ the blaggards an’ ye put paid to ’em all, single-pawed, by jingo!”

Tam corrected him. “ ’Twas only five, sir, an’ I was just doin’ my duty. I was very sorry to hear about young Dauncey, he was a gallant young galloper. I hope I got the scum who slew him, sah.”

The brigadier heaved a great sigh. “Young life like that, wasted. My fault, really. I should’ve kept the rascal on cookhouse duties. But who knows? Maybe his luck would’ve run out in a different way. Ah me, I tell ye, Tam, the Long Patrol is a hard an’ dangerous life for anybeast.”

Abbot Humble nodded in agreement. “Indeed it is, Brigadier. But where would the peaceable creatures be without their protection? We’d have been long ago overrun and enslaved, or killed by vermin.”

Tam rested his chin on the pommel stone of Martin’s wondrous sword. “Aye, yore right there, Father, an’ so are ye, sir. We all choose our different paths. Some are born gentle, whilst others are destined to be warriors. Look at Doogy an’ me—all we’ve ever lived by are our blades. We could no more live quietly in an Abbey than Abbot Humble could take to the sword. None of us was forced to do anything against our will. Poor young Dauncey, he was just one of the unlucky beasts. He loved gallopin’ an’ fightin’ with the Patrol. If he had to die, I don’t suppose he’d have had it any other way. It could happen to any warrior. Our fates are in the wind!”

Sister Armel brought her trolley of dressings and herbs across to where Crumshaw lay. She eyed Tam curiously. “You’re quite a deep thinker!”

Doogy looked up from a roll of bandage he was playing with. “Aye, lassie, ye ken he learned all his deep thinkin’ from me. Ah had a fearful job tryin’ tae teach him!”

She slapped Doogy’s paw and took the bandage from him. “Do something useful, Mister Plumm. Take hold of the Brigadier’s paw. Tam, would you take his other paw, please? You’ll have to hold him still whilst I remove that arrow.”

The Highlander took a grip on Crumshaw’s paw. “Och, yon Sister’s a fearsome creature, Tam. She’s a braw pawslapper, too!”

Smiling, Armel ignored the jibe. She worked skilfully on the wound, explaining as she went. “Luckily the arrow went right through. If I break the shaft, it pulls out easily from the back, see? Hmm, there’s no broken bone in there, it’s a clean injury. I’m not hurting you—am I, sir?”

Holding the barbed point and the broken arrow up to his monocle, the brigadier shook his head. “Not at all, m’dear. Wish I could jolly well steal you away t’be the healer at Salamandastron. Pretty gel like you, who knows what she’s doin’! Not like old blood’n’fluff Hackworthy, the hare who’s the present sawbones. Hah! Saw a young chap go to him with an ingrown pawclaw one time. D’ye know what the confounded buffoon did? Pulled two o’ the poor beast’s teeth out, wot wot!”

Armel stifled a giggle. “I’ve packed the wound with boiled stream moss, some sanicle leaves and curled dock leaves. We’ll bandage it firmly but not too tight. Drink this cordial, it’s made from motherwort and gentian root. It will ease any pain and help you to rest.”