Brian Jacques - Rakkety Tam

“Gulo! Where is Gulo?”

The wolverine leader came dashing forward, knocking aside his creatures who were trying to back off from the stream. Having heard the voice, Gulo called back, “Askor, I cannot see thee!”

A snarling reply echoed back at him. “Aye, but I see thee, brother!”

Ever quick in action, Gulo could move surprisingly fast for one of his bulk and size. He saw the foliage rustle and grabbed an ermine that had its back to him. Shoving the unlucky beast in front of him, Gulo saw the point of a second javelin emerge from the ermine’s back. He dropped flat with the dead vermin on top of him. Heavy slingstones whipped by overhead, one or two of them finding targets among the confused vermin ranks. Then there was silence.

Gulo flung aside the slain beast he had used as a shield. Scrambling up, he saw the bushes rustle and heard the pounding of retreating paws from the other side of the stream. He quickly shouted out orders to his vermin gang. “East, they are going east. Ford this water an’ follow them!”

Zerig, one of Gulo’s fox captains, led the band into the water. They waded warily across, expecting another salvo of missiles at any moment.

Gulo thrust Shard’s body callously to one side as he followed on, roaring, “Get Askor! I will reward the beast who brings me his head!”

Gulo’s warriors ran through the leafy woodlands giving chase, but they were not charging headlong. Nobeast wanted to be among the first to encounter another wolverine. Gulo was fast, but not as quick on the run as the more agile ermine and foxes of his command. When he caught up with the main band, he saw that they had stopped. Grik the tracker was bent over the trail, studying it. Although Gulo’s first impulse was to kick the ermine and urge the others forward faster, he refrained from doing so; he had never been fond of prolonged rushing. With his own sides heaving, Gulo just stood over the tracker. “Well?”

Grik straightened up and made report of his observations. “Lord, they number only fifty, an’ they are running east. But here, see, three have cut off to the north.”

Captain Zerig backed off a touch from the panting wolverine. “That is why we awaited thy orders, Mighty One.”

Gulo did not have Shard to counsel him, but he was not above making the effort to think for himself. The vermin leader called Zerig to one side. “Only fifty, eh? Then these are my orders. Zerig, thou wilt take half of my force to the Redwall place. Try to gain entrance there by night, but do not charge it. I will follow my brother and these others.”

Zerig saluted with his spear. “And the three who went north, sire, what about them?”

Gulo made a quick decision. “Send Dirig and three others after them. Tell him to try and take them alive. Go!”

The three who had gone north—Doogy, Ferdimond and Yoofus—had halted in an open space. It was pleasant, with short, bright green grass dotted about with patches of moss.

The hare twiddled his ears at Doogy. “I wonder how many vermin are followin’ us, wot?”

The Highlander found a stone to hone his blades. “Ah’ve no idea, Ferdy. There may be none if they never spotted our trail. Ask that wee scamp, ’twas his plan.”

Yoofus was busy making an acquaintance with Doogy’s Sgian Dhu, polishing the blade lovingly. “Ah sure, don’t get yore ears in a twist, Ferdy me ould son. Those vermin aren’t bad trackers, if’n ye leave ’em a plain enough sign. Well, ’tis meself that laid the tracks, so the daft scum’ll be along soon, ye can rely on it. Doogy darlin’, what’s a grand strong warrior like yoreself doin’, carryin’ a little toy knife like this now?”

The Highlander snatched his blade back. “Ye thievin’ wee maggot, keep those fiddledy paws off mah Sgian Dhu! Anyhow, what are we hangin’ aboot here for?”

Yoofus wrinkled his snout comically. “We’re layin’ a trap, ye fuzzy-tailed omadorm.”

Doogy sheathed the small blade in his cap. “A trap, in this pretty wee clearin’?”

Yoofus nodded sagely. “Right enough, I know this neck o’ the woods well. Y’see that pretty wee clearin’, as y’call it? Well, ye’d be advised to stay away from it. Ah, I’m wastin’ me breath on the likes o’ you two, the vermin’ll be here soon. Listen, why don’t ye go an’ hide behind that big ould log yonder? Go on, off with ye! When the vermin arrive, don’t make a sound, just sit an’ watch the fun. Now I’m off on a secret route, known only to the greatest thief in Mossflower, that’s meself. I’ll see ye anon.”

The volethief vanished off among some willows to the right. Taking his advice, Doogy and Ferdimond sat down behind a huge, rotten beech trunk which had fallen many seasons back.

Ferdy flicked a wood beetle from his footpaw. “I say, what d’you suppose that Yoofus chap is up to, wot?”

“Don’t ask me, mate, just check your paws’n’whiskers tae make sure he’s no’ robbed ’em. Hist! Here they come!”

The ermine Dirig halted at the clearing edge, remarking to the other three ermine as he scanned the ground, “The tracks end here. Take a look aro . . . oooww!” A well-aimed slingstone bounced off his snout.

Yoofus Lightpaw stood at the other side of the glade, waving cheerily at them. “Now then, ye stinkin’ deadnettles, I can smell ye from here. Wait’ll I tell yore mammies about ye not takin’ a bath, ye filthy ould reprobates. Sure here’s another stone. I won’t be wantin’ it back, it’ll be contagious once it’s hit ye!”

He whipped another pebble off, catching an ermine on the ear, and a swift third shot numbed the other ermine’s paw. Seeing the impudent little water vole, jigging about and laughing as he fitted another pebble to his sling, sent the ermine into a howling rage. Drawing their weapons, they dashed forward, roaring, “Chaaaaarge! Kill! Kill!”

Their view being blocked by the tree trunk, Doogy and Ferdimond hurried out to see what was happening. But there was no sign of the foebeasts, apparently they had vanished.

Yoofus called over to them. “Stand right where y’are, mates. I’ll be with ye in a tick!”

True to his words, before long the water vole emerged from the willows, laughing at their astonishment. “Heeheehee, you should see yore faces. Well, did ye like me trick? Sure ’twas grand, wasn’t it? Go on now, ye loved it!”

For a moment Doogy raised his eyes to the sky, as if expecting to see the vermin there. Then the whole thing dawned upon him. “Och, ye canny wee rascal, ye lured ’em intae a swamp!”

Ferdimond gazed dumbfounded at the tranquil green glade. “Good grief, is that really a blinkin’ swamp?”

Yoofus flicked a pebble into it. There was a faint plop, and then the small stone was lost to view forever. “Oh, ’tis a swamp alright, mate. I nearly lost me life in it one time, when I was about yore age. Don’t let it fool ye like it fooled the ould vermin. If’n ye took four paces from where we stand, straight ahead, nobeast’d ever know where ye vanished to, that’s a fact. Ah well, ’tis a good job I knew me way around it. Come on now, I promised Skipper we’d meet up with him an’ the others at the water meadows where me friends the Guosim live.”

Doogy carefully backed away from the deceptively calm clearing. “Guosim? What’s Guosim?”

The water vole threw up his paws in despair. “Do ye know nothin’ at all? Guosim are a grand ould tribe o’ shrews. Their name tells it all. Take the first letter of each word— G uerilla U nion O f S hrews I n M ossflower. Guosim. That’s what it stands for, ye fluffy-tailed clod!”

Ferdimond adopted a superior air. “Guosim, eh? I’ve heard of ’em, old lad, never seen one o’ the blighters, though.”