Brian Jacques - Redwall #15 - The Taggerung

"Oh yes there is. Two nice russets, wot, hawhawhaw!"

They were startled by the sudden appearance of the quaintly garbed hare. Friar Bobb grabbed his biggest ladle. "Who are you and what're you doin' in our Abbey?"

Broggle marched in and pointed at the hare with Skipper's lance.

"Boorab is my friend,

On that you may depend,

He's come to stay awhile,

Be nice to him and smile!"

Mhera went into a fit of chuckles. "Broggle, what are you singing like that for?"

The bells on the hare's cap and ears jingled as he did a hopskip toward the ottermaid and gave a low sweeping bow. "Why, my pretty one, well may you ask. But observe, when my pal Broggle sings he doesn't stammer. Simple, wot?"

Cregga's booming voice brought the hare to instant attention. "Stand up straight, sah, ears upright, whiskers t'the front, paws in position an' tail well fluffed. Identify y'self!"

The hare threw a smart salute and rattled off his reply. "Boorab the Fool, marm! That's B for Bellscut, O for Oglecrop, O for Obrathon, R for Ragglewaithe, A for Audube, B for Baggscut. Marm!"

Cregga beckoned the hare to her. She put out a paw and ran it over his face and ears, nodding sagely. "Hah! That's a Baggscut face all right. I should know, after commanding more than a thousand hares when I ruled the mountain of Salamandastron. Your grandfather, Pieface Baggscut, served under me as a leveret runner."

Boorab chuckled. "Stap m'whiskers, old Grandpa Pieface, eh wot? Now there was a beast who c'd lick his weight in salad, wot wot! I remember one time, I must've been no bigger'n young Broggle there ..." His voice faltered as the realization of whom he was addressing hit him. He gulped.

"Oh corks! Oh crumbs! Marm, oh, marm! You must be Lady Cregga Rose Eyes, Ruler of Salamandastron, the wild-eyed Warrior Queen, the Belle of the blinkin' Bloodwrath, the kill"

"Silence! That's enough of that, young Baggscut. And who told you to stand easy? Come to attention, sah!"

Skipper, who had been listening from the doorway, came forward. The otter Chieftain held a long whispered conversation with Cregga, who held a huge handkerchief to her face. To anybeast watching it looked as if she had been taken by a fit of coughing, but in fact Cregga was bravely striving to stop herself roaring out with laughter. Mhera felt sorry for the odd hare, standing nervously to attention, ear and cap bells tinkling faintly, awaiting the pronouncement of his fate, and whispered, "Don't worry, sir, it'll be all right."

It took Cregga a considerable time to get her mirth under control, but at last she wiped her eyes and cleared her throat portentously.

"I am informed that you are applying for the post of Redwall Abbey's Master of Music, Occasional Entertainer, Composer, Melodic Tutor and Instructor in all things lyrical. I understand that you have come on the recommendation of a goose that was treated here some while back. Is that correct?"

Boorab the Fool brightened up instantly. "You've got it in one, marm! Y'won't regret it, I promise you. Why, I'll have the whole flippin' Abbey singin' an' dancin' from dawn to bally nightfall, just you wait'n'see, wot!"

Cregga shut him up with a wave of her paw. "But you haven't got the job yet. I'm not too sure we are in need of your services. Tell me, what would you want in return?"

Boorab sucked his stomach in, trying to look like a beast who ate virtually nothing. "Want in return, marm? Merely a place to rest the old head an' the odd pawful o' fodder. I'm more of a dedicated artist of m'trade. The thought of food makes me sick sometimes. Why, a butterfly with no appetite eats more'n I jolly well do."

Cregga turned her face to Filorn and Mhera. "Hmm. What do you think? Shall I hire the hare?"

Mhera was surprised her opinion had been asked. "Oh, please do, Cregga marm. Look at the way Mr. Boorab is helping Broggle. Mama, say you want him to have the job."

Filorn could not help smiling at the look of noble dedication that Boorab was radiating in her direction. "I'll go along with my daughter. I think you should let Boorab have the position, Cregga."

The badger sat stroking her chin until the tension grew unbearable for Boorab, and he flung himself at her footpaws. "Merciful marm, say y'will, I bally well beg you. Don't leave a benighted Baggscut blunderin' about in the storm an' snow without a kindly crust to keep fur an' ears together! Oh, me little furry friend Broggle, sing a line on my behalf!"

The young squirrel obliged.

"He wants to work in the kitchens,

With me an' Friar Bobb,

So please Cregga Badgermum,

Give him the blinkin' job!"

Cregga drummed her paws on the tabletop, then nodded. "Here's my decision. I'll put you on one season's probation, Boorab, under the supervision of Filorn, Mhera, Broggle and Friar Bobb. Now, you four, keep your eyes on this hare. His meals must be the same size as any other Redwaller's, no secret snacks or midnight feasts. If he is reported just once for raiding the larders, out of the gate he goes! Also, he will sleep and rise at the same time as everybeast. Unless he is ill, there will be no lying late abed, or nipping off to shady spots for a snooze. We will see how he behaves throughout this coming summer season. Do you agree with our terms, Boorab? That's the offer, take it or leave it."

For answer, Boorab bowed formally, did a somersault of joy and began serenading them on his haredee gurdee, which two of Skipper's crew had just brought in. It jangled and booped wildly as Boorab made up the words as he went along.

"Derry cum day foll deeh,

I pray you listen to me.

I'll compose this ditty upon the spot,

To say you're a jolly decent lot,

Then you can judge for yourself or not,

What an Abbey asset I'll be,

Derry cum day foll deeh!

You lot won't know you're born,

I'll be up before each dawn,

To serve you crumpets'n'tea in bed,

To wake you gently I'll stroke your head,

I'll warble sweetly until you're fed,

And you'll never feel forlorn,

'Cos I'll do this every morn!

Sing derry cum de all day,

What a splendid hare you'll say,

He's handsome, happy an' modest too,

An' what a cook, why I'll tell you,

There's nought this super chap can't do,

Let's never send him away,

Yes, I'll wager that's what you'll say!"

Boorab finished his song with a winning smile, made an elegant leg, bowed, picked up his haredee gurdee and overbalanced. He fell amidst a discordant crash of bugles, drums and twanging strings. Foremole Brull covered her eyes with a huge digging claw, patting Cregga sympathetically with the other.

"Hurr, marm, oi bets ee be deloighted we'm gotten uz ee hurrbeast. Yurr, Skip, lend oi ee paw to 'elp 'im oop."

Boorab struggled from under the mammoth instrument. "Soup? Did somebeast mention soup? I say, you chaps, it must be time for dinner, wot?"

Friar Bobb placed his head mournfully on Filorn's shoulder. "My ole dad used t'say that feedin' a hare was like chuckin' pebbles down a deep well. You never fill it in a thousand long seasons!"

Chapter 5

Though it was still only early summer, hot noontide sun beat down on the shore. Below the flotsam-wreathed tideline clear turquoise shallows gave way to a bright blue sea. A mild southerly breeze chased the creamy spray atop swelling wavebanks as they rolled in to break noisily amidst rockpools and sandy coves. Juskarath tents had been pitched on the beach, where dunes met the strand. Sitting on a blanket, the otterbabe waited hungrily for the next mouthful of food, which Grissoul was feeding him from a large scallop shell. Sawney hovered around them like an old mother hen, watching anxiously.

"Be careful there's no fish bones in that concoction!"

The Seer used a mussel shell to transfer food to the babe's mouth. "Fret thou not, there is nought in this but goodness, the white flesh of sole and young seaweed, cooked with a pinch of sea salt. I made it myself. See how he likes it?"