Brian Jacques - Rakkety Tam

A variety of entertainment was provided by numerous of the banquet attendees: a mole did some magic tricks; a trio of mousemaids danced an intricate reel, which involved weaving multicoloured ribbons into a plaited circle; then a party of Dibbuns performed a high-kicking jig, their little faces screwed up with concentration as everybeast called out encouragement to them.

During a lull when the tankards and beakers were being refilled, Tam and Doogy obliged with a sword dance from their northern home. They received great applause but had to warn some enthusiastic Dibbuns about attempting to imitate them.

Banging their tankards on the tabletops, the Long Patrol called to Wonwill and Crumshaw.

“I say, sah, how about you an’ the Sarge givin’ us a ballad?”

“Yes, give us that jolly one about Algy an’ Bobbs!”

“Aye, clear the floor there for the Brigadier an’ the Sergeant. Give order please, you chaps!”

Crumshaw and Wonwill got up, much to the delight of the younger hares. They sang an old Salamandastron barrack room ballad, waltzing about paw in paw with a dignified air.

“Old Algy an’ Bobbs an’ me,

received the official call,

to attend A.S.A.P.

at the Regimental Ball.

All togged up in our best,

weren’t we a sight to see,

combed an’ brushed an’ polished,

old Algy an’ Bobbs an’ me!

Honour an’ bow to your partners,

chaps of the Long Patrol.

Whirl’n’curl’n’twirl your tail,

as round the floor we roll.

All the pretty ladies, lookin’ for company,

an’ didn’t we oblige them,

old Algy an’ Bobbs an’ me!

Refreshments then were served,

an’ Bobbs slipped on a flan.

He bumped the Colonel’s daughter

headfirst into a pan.

Then Algy slung a pudden,

hit the Major’s bride-to-be.

An’ the Sergeant fired a crumble

at Algy an’ Bobbs an’ me!

O pass me a trifle smartly,

with a cherry on top for luck.

It smacked the Quartermaster,

he was bowled out for a duck.

Lathered in cream an’ howlin’,

‘Arrest those bloomin’ three.’

We wound up in the guardhouse,

old Algy an’ Bobbs an’ me!”

Finishing with a swirl and a flourish, the brigadier and the sergeant bowed and curtsied to hoots of applause from the rankers.

The banquet continued as Foremole Bruffy signalled to Skipper. “Ee garmunts you’m arsked for bee’s ready in ee kitching, zurr.”

Those who had been picked excused themselves and went to get kitted out. Shortly after, they emerged, clad in simple, short smocks of subdued brown and green. Their blades had been smoke-blackened over a fire by Friar Glisum.

Brigadier Crumshaw looked them over. “Stap me, ye look like a right crew o’ rogues, wot!”

Wonwill saluted. “Beggin’ yore pardon, sah, but they h’aint goin’ out for no dress parade!”

With his good arm, Crumshaw clasped his faithful sergeant’s paw firmly. “Let’s hope they come back safe, wot.”

Tam’s fifty hares took a moment to bid good-bye to their comrades and the friends they had made at Redwall.

“Well, toodle pip, old lad, an’ chin up, wot!”

“Hah, you lucky toads have got the hard job, stoppin’ back here an’ scoffin’ all that super grub, eh?”

“Aye, we’ll be thinkin’ of ye. Give ’em a few biffs for us, will you?”

Kersey, who had been sitting in the background, presented Ferdimond with Dauncey’s sling and pebble bag. “Take this along with you, and watch out for yourself.”

He bowed gallantly. “I’ll be lookin’ out for you when I come back, if I may?”

A faint smile creased Kersey’s lips. “Thank you, Mister De Mayne, that would please me.”

Armel gave Tam a small satchel. “This is a few herbs and dressings in case you’re wounded, Tam.”

He winked at the pretty squirrelmaid. “I’ll use ’em to bandage up Doogy’s mouth if he starts grumbling. Stay safe now, and don’t worry about me.”

The border warrior turned to salute the brigadier. “All present an’ correct, sah. Ready t’move off!”

Crumshaw smiled at Tam. “I knew I could count on ye, MacBurl. Right, forward the buffs, eh wot! True blue an’ never fail, that’s the ticket!”

Skipper tweaked Brooky’s nose lightly. “Behave yoreself now, missy. Don’t ye go whoopin’ an’ laughin’ an’ upsettin’ everybeast while I’m gone.”

The ottermaid hugged her uncle tightly. “Right ho, Skip. I’ll cry in the night an’ keep ’em all awake until you get back.”

Brother Gordale opened the east wickergate, patting each one on the back as they stole off silently into the night-shrouded woodlands. He bolted the door shut, remarking to Sister Screeve, who had accompanied him, “Well, there they go, luck and fortune go with them.”

The Recorder mouse shuddered, drawing her cloak close. “Thank the seasons that Redwall has such brave allies!”

22

Gulo the Savage was in a killing rage, the proof of which was laid out in front of him. Every white fox and ermine who served the insane wolverine stood in horrified awe, staring at the torn remains of the four vermin whose responsibility had been to guard the camp on the previous night. Gulo had personally killed them. He had literally destroyed all three, using only his fangs and claws. So overwhelming was his anger that he had also vented it on the carcase of the fourth sentry, the one whom Doogy had put paid to with his blade. Gulo’s warriors stood to rigid attention, scarcely daring to breathe as he prowled amongst them, berating everybeast with his increasing wrath.

“I am Gulo the Savage, son of Dramz, greatest and fiercest in all the lands of ice beyond the great sea! Yet I am served by fools, knaves and idlers! Scouts and trackers who are so blind and stupid that they cannot follow the trail of my treacherous brother Askor, the coward who fled from me, the thief who stole the Walking Stone! Idiots who call themselves warriors, who let my banner be stolen and allowed valuable captives to slip away. Tremble! Aye, shake like aspens before the storm, all of ye!”

Shard, the white fox captain, his cloak in tatters, crouched beside the drum, whimpering in pain. All down one flank he had lost his snow-white fur in the hot embers of the fire; dried blood matted his skulltop where Tam had hit him with the dirk hilt. Shard looked like a pitiful remnant of his former self, completely cowed and in searing agony from his injuries.

Gulo eyed him contemptuously. “And thou, my clever Captain, have ye a solution? What is the answer to all of thy Lord’s woes, eh?”

Shard knew that to speak would be to invite his own death. He lay quivering, with downcast eyes, before his master. Perching upon the drum’s rim, Gulo leaned down with his mouth close to the captain’s face. “One more mistake, Shard, just one, and I will build me a fire to finish off roasting thee properly. Yes?”

The white fox spoke without daring to look at the insane eyes that were appraising him. “Yes, Mighty One.”

Gulo patted the fox’s injured flank, making him quiver in anguish. “Good, now listen to my commands. Ye will come with me. We will march straightaway to the Redwall place. There ye will take all of my fighters and gain entry. I want everything! My banner, the Walking Stone, and Askor, ye will deliver them unto me. Is this understood?”

Gulo grabbed Shard by both ears, wrenching his face upward as he repeated his final word. “Understood?”

Swallowing the huge lump which seemed to have arisen in his throat, the fox stammered, “To h . . . hear is to obey, Lord!”