Brian Jacques - Redwall #16 - Triss

Shogg took out his pouch of slingstones from Peace Island. These are some stones I was given to use by a friend, far across the seas from here.

Whurp took the pouch and opened it, pouring forth into his paw the bluey-green, sharp-edged stones. His eyes lit up. From far across the seas you say, Shogg. Wonderful, beautiful treasures like these, and you waste them by throwing them away with your sling? Never throw away precious things, that’s what I always say!

He passed the pouch back carefully, but Shogg refused it. Keep ‘em, mate, as a gift from us. Look, we’ve really got t’go now. Nice meetin’

ye, Whurp.

As Burnby led them off through the trees, Whurp called out, Goodbye, friends, and good fortune go with you. I can’t thank you enough for these stones. The Coneslingers will treasure them forever. A treasure of great worth is a treasure worth treasuring, that’s what I always say!

Burnby took Triss’s paw, giving her a quiet smile. I could tell you other things that my dad always says, but I’d need ten seasons to do it.

Triss squeezed her paw. Thank you for your help, but can your dad really stop the Ratguards?

Burnby plucked a grass stalk and chewed on it. Ask yourself, Triss.

Did you see us when you entered our forest? Did you even know all of us were watching you? Coneslingers are invisible when they want to beÑwe can defend our wood against any number. Shogg, follow behind me. Watch that willow branch, don’t touch it!

When the otter saw the thin cord holding a whippy branch strained in an arc, he understood. Haharr, a trap, eh, that’d soon stop anybeast who didn’t see it. A good idea, Burnby

She nodded. That’s why you must follow directly in my trail. These woods are full of such traps, pits, catapults, nooses. But those rats won’t be bothered by them.

Shogg looked puzzled. Why’s that, mate?

Burnby chuckled. Because my dad won’t even let them get this far. Never let the foebeast enter your homeÑ

Triss interrupted. That’s what he always says!

Their laughter echoed through the trees as they strolled in leisurely fashion through the Coneslingers’ wood.

Riggan halted at the tree fringe. Kurda came hurrying up with Vorto and the Ratguards.

Dey go in dere, yarr?

The slavetracker inspected the ground, then peered up into the trees, sniffing the air suspiciously. Aye, yore’igh-ness, they’ve gone inter these woods, but there’s summat I don’t like about this place. I ain’t put me paw on it yet, but I’ll find out.

She took a pace into the trees ... and found out. Three iron-hard green pinecones hit Riggan, one on the head, another on the paw, and a third in the throat. She toppled over, senseless.

Immediately the Ratguards threw themselves flat. Vorto placed himself in front of Kurda, shielding her. Some-beast up in the trees is attackin’

us, marm!

Kurda signalled as she backed off. Archers, shoot arrows at dem, slay der beasts!

Four Ratguards set shafts to their bows. The first one fired off at a shape high in the trees.

Kurda popped her head up from where she was crouching. Gutt, dat teach dem!

Half an arrow, the pointed part, nicked her paw, and she yelped. Yowch!

Vot happen?

The archer gasped in amazement at what he had seen. Marm, somebeast up there in that tree,’e caught me arrer an’ snapped it in arf,’e’s throwin’ it back! He ducked as the feathered half bounced off his ear.

Vorto whispered orders to four Ratguards. Crawl out an’ git Riggan back’ere. We need’er.

The four began to crawl forward, but were peppered so hard with green cones that they were forced to shuffle backward, their shoulders, backs and behinds smarting furiously. His paws numbed by two more flying cones, Vorto dashed off to a small rise in the ground where Kurda was crouching.

Yore’ighness, I think we’d better retreat!

The flat of Kurda’s blade whacked him in the midriff. Retreat? Vot you t’ink I am? De Princess of Riftgard does not run from sillybeasts who t’row pinecones. Ve stay here and teach dem lesson for insolence!

She poked her head up and screeched angrily, You hear dat, ve teach you der le ... Unkhh!

A particularly fine specimen of the fir tree whacked solidly down between the Pure Ferret’s ears, stunning her. This was followed by a matter-of-fact voice calling out, Sorry, could you repeat that? I don’t understand what ÔUnkhh’ is supposed to mean. State your intentions clearly, that’s what I always say!

Burnby led Triss and Shogg out at the far side of the trees that marked the Coneslingers’ domain. She gestured eloquently at the open lands.

There, my friends, you may go whichever way you please, I must return now and lend a paw to pin your foes down for a while. I’m rather looking forward to it. Bye bye! She sprang up into the trees and was instantly gone.

The two friends waved, not knowing whether Burnby could see them.

Goodbye, and thank you for your help! Triss called. Well, what do you make of that? What an easy escape! Burnby couldn’t wait to get back to a bit of cone slinging. You’d never think it to look at herÑsuch a quiet, pretty maid, so reserved and well-mannered, but so warlike!

Shogg fluttered his eyes. Aye, a bit like meself: quiet, well-mannered, pretty. Ouch! Mind that speartip, mate!

Triss chuckled. Come on, you rogue, which way now?

The drizzle had stopped, and sunlight was peeping out from between the clouds. Shogg shaded his eyes, gazing around.

See that dip over there? I’m bettin’ there’s a stream run-nin’ through it. So ‘ere’s wot I think we should do. We’ll get our paws wet, follow the stream west. They’re bound to get away sooner or later. Riggan’ll pick up our tracks, ye can rely on that. But she’ll only trail us as far as the stream, then she ‘as a choice.

As they made their way to the dip, Triss echoed Shogg’s words. A choice.

How do you mean?

The otter gave a sly wink and explained. Riggan’s choice is simple, mate. Which way did we go after enterin’ the water, west or east? Now ask yoreself, which way d’you suppose two runaways would go? East an’

inland, or west an’ back t’the sea, where there’s a Freebooter ship loaded with vermin who’d slay ye as soon as look at ye, eh?

The otter’s canny scheme dawned on Triss. Of course! She’ll head east, that’s the sensible choice. You mightn’t be pretty and reserved, but you’ve got a shrewd head on your shoulders, mate. Come on.

Shogg’s guess proved right. There was a thin stream winding through the dip, and it was quite shallow. They proceeded carefully, trying hard not to leave any telltale traces that the slavecatcher could follow.

Both fugitives hoped fervently that Whurp and his tribe of Coneslingers would keep Kurda and her Ratguards pinned down for a long while: the longer the better, for the survival of Triss and Shogg depended upon it.

22

Memm Flackery and Sister Vernal sat on two chairs close to the Abbey doors in Great Hall. A trolley served as their table. On it was toasted bread, a jar of comb honey, the first of that summer’s strawberries, and a steaming pot of dandelion tea.

The Harenurse yawned. Rotten old storm, hope we don’t get another this season. There was one time last night when I thought the bloomin’ roof was comin’ in, the way that blinkin’ thunder sounded! She munched listlessly on her thick, honeyed toast.

Sister Vernal stopped herself from nodding off and blinked owlishly.

Up on our paws all night, with crying Dibbuns and others who wouldn’t come down from the windows because they wanted to watch the lightning.

Dearie me, I’m exhausted.

Boom boom! Bangybangybang! Boobooboooom!

A herd of shrieking little ones dashed past, followed by Ruggum, Roobil and Turfee mousebabe, who were chasing them, pretending to be stormdogs.