Brian Jacques - Redwall #15 - The Taggerung

He waved a paw, dismissing his Seer. As he did so, the ant was hurled from its perch and fell into a basin of water. Sawney failed to notice it, but the ant swam!

Chapter 2

"After spring's soft rain is done,

At waning of the moon,

Four dry solid days of sun,

Will bring forth growth and bloom."

Drogg Spearback, Cellarkeeper of Redwall Abbey, patted the soft headspikes of Egburt and Floburt, his little grandhogs. "Well said, young 'uns. You finally got it right!"

Squinching her snout and tugging at her grandfather's heavy cellar apron, Floburt, the inquisitive one, piped up. "But Granddad, we ain't growthed an' bloomed. I'm still only likkle, an' so is Egburt. Why is that?"

The stout old hedgehog winked knowingly at his grandson. "Cummon, Egburt, you tell 'er why."

Egburt sucked the tassel of the girdle cord that circled the waist of his smock, pondering the answer. "Hmm, er, 'cos us isn't veggibles, we 'edgehogs, not plants."

Drogg chuckled until his stomach wobbled. Rummaging two candied chestnuts from his apron pocket, he gave them one each. "You've got a brain 'neath those spikes, young 'og!"

The hogbabes sat either side of their grandfather, on an upturned wheelbarrow in the orchard, enjoying the late spring noontide sun. Drogg spread both paws, gesturing around and about.

"See all that? Well, that's growth an' bloom for you! Plants, grass, fruit'n'flowers, springin' up like wildfire after the rains. Come midsummer we'll be up to our spikes in apples, pears, plums, damsons, strawberries, blackberries an' all manner o' berries. Lookit the salad crop, o'er yonder by the redcurrant hedge: radish, cucumber, cress, scallions, lettuce. Ready for gatherin' in, those are. Remember this, my liddle 'uns, you be plantin' stuff in the earth an' it'll grow quicklike. Save for the great trees like those in Mossflower Wood. They grow slower, stronger, just like us creatures, though trees live much longer'n we do."

Both little hedgehogs sat listening as they munched candied chestnuts. Drogg expanded his lecture, telling them of their heritage, Redwall Abbey. He loved the place with a fierce pride, which he communicated to them. "Plants, trees an' creatures, they come'n'go sooner or later. Not this ole Abbey, though! Lookit all this wunnerful red sandstone. Shines like dusty pink roses in late-noon sun. Nobeast who comes wantin' trouble can pass those big rampart walls of the main gate with the liddle gate'ouse beside it. I couldn't even guess 'ow old our great Abbey buildin' is. Bell tower, gables, columns, Great Hall, Cavern 'Ole, kitchens, dormitories, an' my cellars too. They must've been 'ere forever an' a day!"

Floburt dug her tiny paw into his broad apron pocket, searching for more nuts. Her granddad usually carried a goodly supply. "Have you been 'ere forever'n'aday, Granddad?"

Smiling, he shook his great spiked head. "Dearie me no, though I been an Abbeybeast longer'n most, save for ole Cregga."

Egburt joined his sister in rummaging in the apron pocket. "Ole Cregga the Badgermum? 'Ow long's she been 'ere, Granddad?"

Drogg pondered the question, chewing the milky sap from a grass stalk. "Hmm, let me see. Cregga is wot they call the last of the old 'uns. I think she's older'n some o' the trees 'ereabouts. Great warrior she was, but blinded in some ancient battle. Brother Hoben, the Recorder, says that Cregga has outlived two Abbesses, Tansy an' Song, both long gone. He says that she knew Arven the Champion an' my great-grand'og, Gurgan Spearback, many seasons afore I was born. So figger it out yoreself. 'Ow old d'you think Cregga is?"

Egburt's eyes grew wide as he tried to calculate the answer in hedgehog manner, by counting on his head-spikes. "Phwaw! She mus' be eleventeen mousing seasons old!"

Drogg allowed them to find the rest of his candied chestnut supply before he rose slowly. "Aye, at least that much, I'd say. I got to go now an' broach a barrel of October Ale for the counselors' meetin' tonight. You Dibbuns stay out o' trouble, an' don't go gettin' those nice clean smocks muddied up, or yore mum'll dust yore spikes with an oven paddle. Why don't you go an' see if there be any news of Filorn ottermum's babe? But mind, don't make a nuisance of y'selves. See you anon."

Both Dibbuns giggled at the idea of their mother spanking them with an oven paddle. She was far too gentle. Being sent early to bed was the limit of punishment for Redwall babes. When Drogg had departed, they clambered from the wheelbarrow and ran squeaking and jumping into the orchard. A tiny mole was exploring a clump of bilberry stalks, searching among the pink globe-shaped blossoms. Waving a pudgy digging claw in greeting, he called out in the quaint mole accent, "Burr, goo' day to ee. They'm bilbeez ain't a growed yet. Taken ee toime they be's!"

"My mum sez you get tummy ache from eatin' bilberries afore midsummer," Floburt commented sagely.

Gundil, the Dibbun mole, flicked his stubby tail scornfully. "Moi mum sez ee same thing, but oi loikes bilbeez, h'even if'n oi do gets tumbly h'ache." He ambled out of the bilberry clump and shrugged. "Bain't none thurr, tho'. Whurr us'n's be a-goen?"

Egburt pointed toward the Abbey. "We goin' t'see if Filorn ottermum's new baby be a-borned yet. Cummon!"

The three little chums wandered off paw in paw toward the Abbey. Once inside, they stopped off at Great Hall to play a favorite Dibbuns game. Almost lost amid the vastness of stone and timber beams, they hopped about on the floor, in and out of harlequin hues of sunshafts from the stained glass windows far above them.

Gundil gave a deep bass giggle, holding a paw to his face. "Hurrhurrhurr. Luk ee! Oi be's all purkle!"

Floburt twirled about in a pool of amber light. "An' I'm all gold, a solid golden 'ogmaid!"

Egburt chose a shaft of aquamarine blue, floundering upon his back as though he were drowning. "Save me! I'm unner the deep deep water! 'Elp!"

Floburt and Gundil dutifully rescued Egburt and all three fled downstairs into Cavern Hole, where preparations were under way for the counselors' meeting. Friar Bobb, a stout old squirrel, shooed them out with a rush broom.

"Come on, out out. You'll get trodden on, wandering about under everybeast's paws. Go and play elsewhere, you rascals. Quick now. Scoot!"

He made as if to run after them. The little pals thought it was great fun to be chased, and trundled off helter-skelter. Halting on the dormitory landing above the first flight of stairs, Gundil stifled his chuckles and peeked down the spiral stairwell. He tapped a paw against his velvety snout.

"Ee Froyer woan't foind us'n's oop yurr. Hurr, boi 'okey ee woan't!"

Shaking with glee, Egburt pointed to a door. "Let's 'ide in there unner the beds!"

Gundil stood on Egburt's back in his effort to reach the latch, but it still proved too high. Floburt was trying to clamber up on top of them both when somebeast inside heard and opened the door.

The trio of Dibbuns fell tail over ears into the room. Filorn the ottermum stood holding the door, smiling down at them.

"Well, well. To what do we owe the pleasure of this visit?"

Gundil tugged his snout respectfully. "Uz cummed to see if'n ee likkle h'otter was borned, marm."

Rillflag, Filorn's husband, their daughter, a pretty little ottermaid named Mhera, and the great Badgermum Cregga were standing around a woven rush cradle in one corner. Mhera, who was four seasons older than the three Dibbuns, beckoned them over.

"He was born this morning. Come and see. He's beautiful!"

Cregga looked so huge and intimidating that the trio backed away slightly. A deep rumbling laugh came from the blind badger as she sensed their trepidation. Turning her sightless eyes in their direction, she whispered gently, "Oh, do come and look at him. He won't bite you. Neither will I. It's Gundil and the two little Spearbacks, isn't it?"