Brian Jacques - Rakkety Tam

The wolverine gave Shard a swift kick, releasing him so that he fell flat. Gulo the Savage snarled, “Go then, and obey!”

Early morning sunlight dappled through the tree foliage, casting a mottled pattern of light and shadow upon a quiet waterway in the woodlands. Just as Tam and his company were about to cross it, Skipper raised a paw for silence.

Doogy whispered to the otter chieftain, “What is it, the vermin?”

Skipper shook his head. “No, mate, stop here an’ be quiet, all of ye. I’m goin’ to take a look.”

The two squirrels and the band of hares watched as Skipper slid into the water and sped off beneath its clouded surface. He was lost to sight for a few moments, then emerged further upstream, close to the bank.

Ferdimond twitched his ears in puzzlement. “What the dickens is he up to, Tam?”

The border warrior clamped a paw over the hare’s mouth. “Hush and watch! Skipper knows what he’s doin’.”

The otter floated slowly forward. Then he shot his paw into a shallow bank hole, yelling, “Gotcha, me buckoe!”

Yoofus Lightpaw’s yells were smothered by the water as he was dragged back through the stream by his tail. Skipper hauled him unceremoniously up onto the bank. “Lookit wot I just found!”

Shaking his flattened fur back into its usual untidy ruffle, the water vole smiled impudently up at Tam. “Ah, top o’ the mornin’ t’ye, Mister MacBurl, sir, an’ a grand ould day it is, t’be sure. Wasn’t I just comin’ back to the Abbey to report to yore goodself now!”

Tam whipped out his sword and placed the point at the neck of the thief. “Where’s my flag an’ my claymore? Speak or die!”

Yoofus pushed the blade away casually. “Now isn’t that a daft thing t’be sayin’! Sure, if I never spoke, an’ ye killed me, then ye’d never get yore goods back. That’s a fact, ’cos ye’d never find ’em now, would ye?”

Skipper chuckled at the little thief’s audacity. “You got to admit, he’s right there, mate!”

Yoofus switched his attention to Tam’s sword, his eyes shining with admiration and desire. “Ah, will ye look at that now! Sure that’s the grandest ould sword I ever clapped eyes on, so ’tis. I could do ye a fine trade for a blade like that!”

The border warrior’s voice left the water vole in no doubt that he had said the wrong thing. “I warn ye now, my light-pawed friend. If ye so much as look at this sword the wrong way, you’ll surely die, an’ ye have my oath on that!”

Avoiding Tam’s icy stare, Yoofus swiftly changed the subject. “Sure I’d have thought ye’d other things on yore mind than standin’ gossipin’ here like ould frogwives. D’ye not know that the great beastie an’ his crew are on the trail to attack Redwall?”

Ferdimond grabbed the front of the water vole’s tunic roughly. “How d’you know that, you flippin’ fibber?”

The volethief wriggled in the hare’s grasp. “Unpaw me, ye great lanky lolloper, that’s me favourite weskit yore ruinin’!”

Doogy squeezed the hare’s paw, making him release his grip. “Let’s hear wot the wee rascal has tae say, Ferdy.”

Yoofus straightened his tunic indignantly. “Where would you lot be without a fine creature like meself to help ye, eh? When I left Redwall, I sez t’meself, sure, an’ why not pay the ould vermin camp a visit? There might be stuff there I could pick up before I wends me way home. So, up into the trees by their camp I went. Everybeast always looks for water voles in water, but no one ever thinks o’ lookin’ up in trees for ’em. That’s the secret of me success, d’ye see.”

Skipper gave him a light cuff with his tail. “Well, I caught ye in the water. Now stop wofflin’, mate, an’ give us yore news smartish!”

Yoofus continued promptly. “Well now, the things I saw an’ heard there! The ould Gulo monster himself was madder’n a toasted toad. Didn’t he only kill about four of his own gang. Then he gave ’em all a right hard down the banks tellin’ off about wot a lazy daft lot they were. Mind you, he’s no great wisebeast himself. Gulo thinks that the banner an’ somethin’ called a walkin’ stone an’ his brother Askor are all at Redwall Abbey. Huh, a walkin’ stone, I ask ye? Well, t’cut a long story short, him an’ the other gobeens are marchin’ to the Abbey to conquer the place.”

Tam could see that Yoofus was telling the truth. “When did this all take place? Tell me quickly!”

The water vole scratched his chin. “Er, ’twould be just about dawn. I left the vermin right away. Wasn’t it meself that was on the way back to warn ye at Redwall? But now I found ye so cleverly, I can tell ye that they’re comin’ this way, an’ they’ll be crossin’ this stream afore the mornin’s much older.”

Lancejack Wilderry glanced up and down the stream. “Jolly good spot t’make a stand an’ stop ’em crossin’, wot?”

Tam was of a different opinion. “Not with the odds at two to one, they’d rush us. Give me a moment to think, mate. You take the rest back a bit an’ hide in the bushes. Skipper, Yoofus, I want a word with ye, but we’ll have to make it short. Doogy, find a lookout spot up in that elm. Let me know the instant ye can see them comin’.”

Wilderry crouched alongside Butty Wopscutt behind a wild privet. He glanced nervously ahead at the streambank. “Blinkin’ long moment MacBurl’s takin’. Wish he’d hurry up!”

The jolly corporal reassured him. “Steady, old chap. Rakkety Tam knows wot he’s doin’. Aye, an’ Skipper ain’t no duffer. An’ as fer that Yoofus, he’s sharper’n the point of a thistle. Leave it to them, buckoe. Tam’s the officer o’ the day now.”

Shard was limping hurriedly along through the woodlands with his mate Freeta and the ermine tracker Grik at his side. The main body of vermin were marching behind.

The white fox captain gritted his teeth. “Unhhh! ’Tis as though the fire is still burning my flank. I need a poultice for it.”

Grik gestured ahead. “Methinks there be water up yon, a stream mayhaps. There’ll be damp moss an’ soothin’ mud aplenty for thy wound, Captain.”

Freeta chanced a look back at the ranks behind. “Where’s the mighty Gulo, pray tell? I don’t see him.”

Gathering his tattered cloak around him, Shard winced. “Didst thou not hear him? Gulo is behind the last rank. He says he will slay anybeast who takes a rest or a backward pace. That beast has neither pity nor mercy. Yea, he is truly named the Savage. I hope somebeast slides a blade twixt his ribs whilst he sleeps!”

The ermine tracker kept his face on the trail ahead. “I’ll pretend I never heard thee, Captain. Gulo is too strong and fierce for anybeast among us to bring him down. He lives an’ thrives on the blood of others.”

Freeta beckoned the tracker forward. “See if thou canst find the stream, Grik.”

When the tracker was far enough ahead of the two foxes, Freeta murmured, “The great sword thou took from the Abbeymaid, I wager Gulo could be felled by such a blade.”

Shard, still rankling at his injuries and seething with hatred for Gulo, muttered, “Aye, an’ twill be the first thing I’ll seek once we are within the Redwall place!”

The vixen motioned him to silence as Grik came loping back. “I was right, the stream is not far, Captain!”

The rest of the vermin were right behind Shard as he reached the streambank. He limped into the shallows, about to bend and drink the water, when a sharp, growling voice from the shrubbery on the opposite side roared out, “Where is my brother Gulo?”

Shard’s paw shot down to the curved sword at his side. A javelin whizzed out of the bushes, causing the white fox captain to fall with a splash, the weapon protruding from his neck. Foxes and ermine pushing from behind stumbled to a halt in the crimsoning waters, shocked by the rough shout from the concealment of the other bank.