Brian Jacques - Redwall #16 - Triss

Eulaliiiiiaaaaaa! We’re coming! Eulaliiiiiiaaaaaa!

Crashing through the shallows of the lakeshore, Sagax came thundering towards Kurda, swinging his massive battle-axe in one paw. On the bank alongside him, Log a Log and Triss ran their hardest to keep up with him.

Kurda screeched to Vorto and Riggan, Shtop dem, quick!

She had her back to Scarum. Swinging himself forward, he grabbed her around the back of her neck and hung on grimly. Riggan turned to run away, but Log a Log’s rapier, hurled like a javelin, stopped her for good.

Triss put on a turn of speed, shouting at Sagax as she passed him, The white one’s mine!

Vorto’s spear snapped like a twig as Sagax bulled him into the lake.

The battle-axe cleaved midair, water, and the Ratguard Captain, all in one stroke.

Kurda was struggling wildly in Scarum’s grip as Triss went bounding by, leaping like an acrobat. Her sword sheared the rope from the alder branch, dropping Scarum onto Kurda. They both went down in a huddle, and the sabre was knocked from Kurda’s grasp. She reached for it, only to find a footpaw resting heavily on the blade. Scarum extricated himself and scrambled free.

Triss stepped away from the blade and stood over Kurda. The squirrelmaid’s voice shook with pent-up rage as she grated at her foe, Remember me, Princess? I used to throw turnips up for you to practice on. I’m the escaped slave who stole your ship. Well, you’ve chased me across the great seas, and now you’ve found me. Pick up that sabre, stand and face me!

It was the first time in her life Kurda had faced a creature that was armed and ready for her. The others had never been a problem. They were usually bound and helpless, and she had always been surrounded by Ratguards to protect her. A chill of fear ran through the Pure Ferret.

Rising slowly Kurda picked up her sabre. Triss circled her, the point of Martin’s sword weaving and flickering about her sworn enemy, taunting her.

My father was Rocc Arrem, the greatest swordmaster in all the Northlands.

He was slain by your family, with arrows, because they feared him. You slew his friend Drufo, who was old and weak. I watched you kill him.

So now, let’s see what murdering one old creature and chopping lots of turnips has taught you, coward!

Triss deliberately lowered her sword. Kurda tried a swift sabre slash at her opponent’s head. Like lightning Martin’s sword came into play, whipping through the basket-hilted sabreguard and flicking the weapon out of Kurda’s paw. Triss moved back a pace. Pick it up and try again, turnip chopper!

Kurda felt her paws shaking as she retrieved her sabre. This time Triss allowed her two thrusts before disarming her with a similar swift twist.

Log a Log murmured admiringly to Sagax, Great seasons, I never saw anybeast that good with a blade!

Kurda dived to grab back her sabre, panic-stricken. Triss slapped the flat of her blade across the Pure Ferret’s rump, admonishing her like a clumsy novice. I never told you to pick it up again. Tell me, how does it feel, being treated like a slave?

Triss contemptuously turned her back and walked away. Kurda’s anger at the way she was being treated overcame fear. She grabbed the heavy sabre with both paws and charged screeching at Triss’s unprotected back.

The squirrelmaid skipped to one side as the sabrepoint buried itself in the earth. Triss whirled and struck the blade with all her might.

It was a sturdy sabre, but no match for the great sword of Martin the Warrior. There followed a loud metallic clang as the sabre snapped in two halves.

Kurda stood shocked, staring at the broken weapon in her paws. Then she ran for her life. Triss sped after her, yelling, You can run, but there’s nowhere you can hide, coward. I’ll get you!

Kurda looked back as she ran full pelt, to see Triss hot on her trail.

It was a fatal mistake. The Pure Ferret tripped on a protruding tree root and slammed down heavily on the lake bank. She was lying curled up and still when Triss reached her. Triss saw the broken sabre blade, which was still held tight in both of her enemy’s paws. Kurda had fallen onto the broken blade. She stared up at the squirrel-maid through dead eyes.

Sagax picked up the Crown of Sarengo from where it had fallen and gave it to Triss. I think this belongs to you now.

Bitter tears welled in the squirrelmaid’s eyes as she sat gazing at her slain foe. She cheated me of my revenge! Log a Log gently removed the sword from her grasp. No, she never, Trissy. You defeated’er, fair’n’square!

Grasping the shrew’s paw, Triss pulled herself upright. But she killed herself by accident.

Placing the sword back over Triss’s shoulder, the Gu-osim Chieftain shook his head firmly. Wot would ye’ave done if’n you caught up with’er, eh? Made Kurda fight on wid a broken blade? No, matey, that’s not yore style. You couldn’t slay a beast in cold blood, ain’t that right, Sagax?

Aye, right, friend. Kurda lived and died like a coward: running away.

Think about it, Triss, you wouldn’t allow yourself to dishonour Martin’s sword by using it to slay that gutless craven when she wasn’t properly armed. You aren’t a killerÑthere’s a lot more to you than that. Martin chose you for the creature you are, right?

Triss tucked the crown into her belt. Thank you for your kind words, SagaxÑyou are right!

Log a Log threw a paw about her shoulders. Of course’e is. Come on, let’s go home, Trisscar Swordmaid.

Scarum came hopping up, rubbing a bruised forehead. I say, chaps, would somebeast mind cuttin’ this confounded rope off me footpaws? It’s tight as blazes!

Sagax took a mighty swing with his battle-axe. Eulali-iiaaa!

The hare closed his eyes and winced as the axe chopped clean through the ropes that bound his footpaws together. He tossed the rope ends huffily into the lake. Great big showoff, y’nearly left me pawless.

Oh, an’ you, too, miss. Y’might have taken the trouble to cut a chap down properly. Leapin’ about an’ choppin’ with that sword. Just look at this bloomin’ wound on me bonceÑI fell right on top of that vermin, she had a blinkin’ skull like a rock. Oh, woe is me, chaps, only half a flamin’ set o’ whiskers an’ my young good looks ruined by this enormous bump!

Sagax caught Scarum, none too gently, by his ear. I thought we left you to guard the Abbey. What are you doing out here in the middle of the woodlands?

Scarum suddenly forgot his injuries. What, er, oh that! Long an’

complicated tale, had whacking great injustices done to me, y’know.

Thought it best to relinquish command an’ join me old comrades, couldn’t let you lot face those vermin alone, wot!

Sagax growled menacingly. I hope you’re telling the truth.

The incorrigible hare put on his noblest face. Shame on you for thinkin’

otherwise, sah! Oh, er, I say, Triss, you’re a good-hearted type. Would you like to put in a word or two for me when we get back? Talk to the Abbot an’ Memm, an’ those other old fogeys. Tell’em how I found you three strung up by the footpaws an’ risked life’n’limb to rescue you.

Pretty maid with an honest face, they’ll believe you, I bet. But don’t get too jolly fancy about it, just picture me as a modest type doin’

me duty.

Triss could not help laughing at the horrified look on the face of Sagax.

She winked reassuringly at Scarum. Of course I will. And what about the three serpents you slew? Shall I mention them also?

Scarum clapped Log a Log on the back cheerfully. No no, old Log’ll do that, won’t you, me stout shrewchap. No need to go into detail, just mutter somethin’ about me tyinem up in knots an’ pullin’ their fangs out, that should do the trick. Er, Sagax, old pal of my Dibbun days, don’t you say anything. Lips sealed, keep mum, nod’s as good as a wink an’ all that. Be a strong silent badger type, wot, don’t say a blinkin’