Brian Jacques - Redwall #15 - The Taggerung

Brother Hoben watched the chubby figure ambling oft to the east wall. "Our young Broggle looks as if a barrel of October Ale just fell on his head. He's evidently smitten with Miz Fwirl."

Cregga shook her great striped head in wonderment. "Young Broggle, eh? Who'd have ever thought it?"

Gundil gave a deep bass chuckle. "Hurrhurr, that'n lukken loike 'is stummick be full o' buttyflies an' 'is 'ead be full o' bumblybees!"

Mhera spoke up in defense of the assistant cook. "Now just stop that talk, please. I won't have Broggle made fun of, poor creature. It's obvious he thinks a lot of Fwirl, so let's not do anything to embarrass either of them!"

Friar Bobb bowed his head courteously to the ottermaid. "Thank you, Mhera. That was kindly said. I knew that Broggle was visiting the squirrelmaid, I've known it a while now, but I never told anybeast, lest they made fun of him. I've practically reared Broggle, and he's a hard worker, loyal to our Abbey. If he were my son I couldn't think more of him!"

Cregga held a paw to her mouth. "Ssh! I hear him coming back!"

Broggle marched up with a jaunty swagger. "I spoke to Fwirl, and she's agreed to help us."

Brother Hoben looked about and spread his paws wide. "Thank you, Broggle. But where is she?"

The tubby squirrel folded his paws and smirked. "Up in the ash tree. Where did you expect her to be?"

Cregga gave an involuntary start. She took Broggle's paw. "Just a moment, sir. I never heard a thing. To do as you say she'd have had to dash around to the west wall, scale it, and come up behind us so silently that we didn't hear. Then she'd have had to climb that tree without us even seeing her."

Broggle winked at them and nudged Cregga. "Well, you said you wanted a good treewhiffler! Fwirl, would you like to come down and meet my friends?"

Fwirl was not just pretty, she was startlingly beautiful, with huge almond eyes, dainty paws, snow-white teeth and a curling redgold tail unlike that of any squirrel Mhera had ever seen. She was clad in a short belted tunic of soft green.

Mhera welcomed her with an outstretched paw. "Well, hello, Fwirl. You must be the champion treewhiffler of all Mossflower!"

Fwirl's smile lit up the bright summer day even more. "Haha, you've been listening to Broggle. He's told me all about you.I feel as though I know you all. How can I help you? I do climb a bit."

Cregga ran a paw over Fwirl's perfect features. "That's what I like to hear, a squirrel who doesn't beat about the bush. We've examined the ash tree and the ground around it as far as we can, Fwirl. But I think whatever we're after is much higher than the trunk. Could you take a look up in the boughs and foliage for us? 'Twould be a great help."

The squirrelmaid shot away like lightning, her tail swirling in a blurring circle. Halfway up the trunk, which she covered in the blink of an eye, Fwirl turned and addressed Cregga. "What am I looking for, Badgermum?"

Cregga liked the squirrelmaid's friendly manner. "Well, it could be anything at all: a carved message, a slip of parchment, or an object you wouldn't normally find in an ash tree. By the way, I hope you're going to join us for lunch?"

Fwirl vanished into the foliage, calling back, "It would be my pleasure, but let's take a peep up here first!"

The friends sat on the grass in the welcome shade of the old ash. Broggle sighed. "Isn't she just... just... Isn't she?"

Gundil lay flat on his back peering up into the foliage. "She'm surrpintly is, zurr. You'm a gurt lucky beast!"

Broggle plucked a blade of grass and chewed on the stem. "I hope Fwirl decides to come and live at our Abbey, if that's all right with you, Cregga marm?"

"All right with me? We'd be delighted to have her, eh, Mhera?"

Mhera threw a paw about her squirrel friend's shoulder. "I'm sure Fwirl will come to live at Redwall. Especially as she knows you're here, pal!"

Fwirl was back down among them in a surprisingly short time and made her report. "No carvings or secret messages, I'm afraid. No parchments either. However, I did come across this."

Brother Hoben took the object she produced from her belt. "It's like half a pair of glasses with an old bit of cord hanging from it. What do you make of it, marm?"

Cregga took the object. She sniffed it, ran her paws gently over it and smiled wistfully. "Long long ago, a gallant and perilous hare gave this to me. His name was Perigord Habile Sinistra, the most dangerous saber fighter ever to come from the mountain of Salamandastron. Alas, the dust of long seasons has blown over his brave bones now. This is a monocle. You wear it in one eye, with the cord looped around your neck, so as not to lose it. Let me tell you, Abbess Song was a little vain. She would not wear glasses, even when she was very old. I gave her this monocle, and she kept it hidden in the sleeve of her habit. If ever she had to read anything, she would slip it out and use it secretly. I often wondered what became of it. Where exactly did you find it, Fwirl?"

With the exception of Cregga, they all looked up to where the squirrelmaid's paw was pointing. "On the north side, near the top of the tree. It was lodged in the joint of two boughs. Somebeast had cut two little slots into the bark so it would stay in position. I hope I did the right thing by bringing it down here?"

"I'm sure you did, missie," Friar Bobb reassured her. "But you say there was nothing else up there whatsoever?"

Fwirl shrugged expressively. "Nothing, Brother. Only the monocle."

Friar Bobb excused Broggle from cooking duties so that he could sit next to Fwirl at lunch. Taking advantage of the good summer, Redwallers liked to dine outside. Cregga had the food served on linen cloths in the orchard, away from the search site. Fwirl enjoyed everything that Broggle put in front of her, particularly some little farls of warm bread, which she ate with her cream of mushroom soup and salad. Filorn served her some more, extolling Broggle's reputation as a baker.

"That's Broggle's nutfarls, my dear. He made them this morning. There's hazel, beech and chestnuts in them. They're my favorite too. Nobeast bakes a nutfarl like our Broggle!"

The squirrelmaid bit into another one. "Mmm, they're delicious. I could make a full meal of just your nutfarls. What a wonderful skill you have, Broggle!"

Boorab had fallen asleep whilst guarding the steps. He came hurrying in late and plonked himself down between the two squirrels. Halfway through loading a platter with salad, cheese and nutfarls, he suddenly noticed Fwirl.

"Wellwellwell. Howdy doody, m'dear. I say, what an absolute corker your charmin' pal is, Broggle. A real spifferoo, wot wot. Come on, Broggle, y'old rascal, you lucky grubslinger, how's about introducin' a chap to your stunnin' luncheon guest, wot, wotwot?"

Cregga's massive paws descended on the garrulous hare, and she lifted both him and the plate he was holding clear of the two squirrels. "I thought you were left to guard the south wallsteps, sah. Skipper, escort this malingerer back to his post. Let him take that plateful of vittles with him. Back to your duties now, you horrible hare!"

The brawny Skipper of Otters chivvied Boorab along. "Right y'are, marm. Come on, Mr. Boorab. Remember, yore still on probation 'ereabouts. One two, one two, eyes front, that's it!"

Boorab's protests faded into the distance, amid general laughter. "I say, you rotten old riverdog, get y'paws off me. Still on probation? Pish tush, sah, flippin' length o' time I've been at this confounded Abbey, I should be on pension, not bally probation. The nerve o' that great stripe-muzzled mauler, eh, wot?"

Gundil ruminated as he worked his way through a turnip and gravy pastie. "Whoi wudd ee h'Abbess be a leaven ee mononokle oop in yon tree?"

Brother Hoben selected a maple wafer spread with white cheese. "Yes, and why in that one particular place?"