Brian Jacques - Redwall #15 - The Taggerung

The trifle was immense, a real beauty. It was displayed in the gatehouse doorway. Helped by Mhera and Fwirl, Cregga mounted the steps, at Filorn's request, to deliver her judgement. She held forth her paws for silence.

"What a wonderful entertainment. You've made my task very difficult. I was going to award the trifle to Boorab, but you all heard him say that he required no trifling reward. So I've decided to give the prize to all the Dibbuns who took part. It's such a huge trifle that I'm sure it's far too much for any onebeast!"

Laughter and cheers greeted the Badgermum's popular decision. The Abbeybabes dragged the trifle inside the gatehouse and slammed the door.

Mhera turned to Brother Hoben. "Well, Brother, have you had time to think about the piece of cloth and the lettering on it?"

Hoben took out the article in question and stared at it. "I've racked my brains until my head's aching, but I'm afraid it's a complete mystery to me. Sorry, Mhera."

Friar Bobb picked the cloth up. "Is this your latest find? What is it?"

Fwirl put her chin in both paws glumly. "We haven't the faintest idea, sir. D'you think Cregga will know?"

They took it to the Badgermum, who sniffed it and felt it. "Faint scent of lilac, that's about all I can say. What is the lettering on it? Read it to me, please, Broggle."

"HITTAGALL. All in capital letters, marm, written in a downward line. Is that any help?"

Cregga passed the cloth back to Brother Hoben. "I'm afraid it doesn't mean a thing to me."

Looking thoroughly downcast, the good Brother sighed. "Then that's it, we're defeated. 'Twas all for nothing."

Mhera slapped her rudder down hard against the step. "Well, I'm not defeated, I'll solve that riddle somehow. I'm not going to give up hope or let it beat me!"

The friends strolled paw in paw back to the Abbey, their air of gloom not even dissipated by Boorab, who was pounding the gatehouse door, pleading with the Dibbuns inside.

"Have a bally heart, little chaps, open up for a poor starvin' hare, wot! I'd have given you a jolly good share if I'd won the trifle, honest I would, cross me ears an' hope to turn blue. Come on, open up an' be reasonable, little bods. At least let me lick the bowl. If I die of the horrible hungers it'll be your fault, y'know. Festerin' bounders! Trifle thieves, meadowcream marauders! I hope you all get the screamin' tummy ache. Cads!" He loped off and caught up with Mhera and her friends. "I say, you lot look pretty sad, wot. Did you want to win the trifle too?"

Mhera smiled weakly. It was one thing having plenty of fighting spirit and stern resolution, but she was as baffled as the rest. Brother Hoben was right; all their questing had amounted to nothing. The entire thing was still a mystery.

Chapter 17

It was the evening of their second day upon the mountain, and still the hunters had not sighted any sign of their quarry. Vallug Bowbeast sat shivering over a small fire made from odd twigs and dead heather. He stared out at the tracks of his own party, crisscrossing the snowfields that ran up toward the peak. His stomach made a squirling noise. It needed food, but there was none whatsoever to be had. Eefera was the first to show over the high ridge. He trudged down to the glimmering fire, long bluish shadows of eventide creeping down after him. White steamy breath issued from his mouth as he sat down beside Vallug.

" 'Tis difficult to catch yer breath up 'ere. Huh, I see you packed in searchin'. 'Ow long've ye been squattin' 'ere warmin' yer paws?"

Vallug stared into the paltry wisps of flame. "Long enough t'do some thinkin'."

The weasel glanced sideways at the big ferret. "Thinkin', en? Tell me about it."

The Bowbeast nodded up at the peak. "Ain't no vittles up 'ere, we never brought robes or cloaks. We could freeze or starve t'death, an' nobeast of the Juska clan would ever know wot became of us."

Eefera thrust his paws closer to the fire. "Aye, there's some truth in that. We've been on this stinkin' mountain almost two days now, an' not a track, nary a single pawmark that the otter's been even near the place. Vallug, do ye think that 'e could've put one over on us? I mean laid a false trail along that riverbank, jus' to make it look as if 'e was comin' 'ere?"

Vallug said what his companion was thinking. "An' give us the slip so's 'e could go elsewhere?"

Eefera shrugged. "But where's 'e gone?"

Vallug lowered his voice as if eavesdroppers were about. "That's wot I been thinkin' about. You remember ole Grissoul mutterin' about omens an' prophecies? She was the one who saw the Taggerung at the river ford where it ran across the long path. Sawney told me somethin' about a big place with bells. 'Twas a long time back, but I can recall it. Sawney didn't want t'go near that place, said it was dangerous an' filled with warriors."

Eefera nodded impatiently. "Aye, I remember all right. Redwall, 'e called it. Grissoul spoke about the red place like 'twas magic. Wot d'you think, Vallug?"

The Bowbeast curled his lip scornfully. "There ain't no such thing as magic. I never seen nobeast that one o' my arrows couldn't stop. I think that otter I slew, the liddle one's father, I think that 'e came from the Redwall place. I'll tell yer wot else I'm thinkin'. I'll wager that sometime in 'is seasons with the Juskarath, that Taggerung 'eard of Redwall too. If'n that otter's laid a false trail fer us t'follow, then 'e's bound for Redwall, the place where 'e was born!"

Eefera had been listening so intently that his paw strayed into the flame. He drew it back sharply and rubbed snow on it.

"Right, Vallug. Yore right! So, wot's the plan?"

Vallug picked up his bow and shouldered it. "We go after 'im. I don't mean those other fools an' Gruven. Leave em 'ere on the mountain. Like I said, they'll freeze or starve t'death up 'ere an' nobeast will ever know, 'cept us."

Eefera smiled wickedly. "An' we won't tell, will we. They was all killed, Gruven too. By pikes, serpents, drownded, all of em. Sad, ain't it, mate?"

It was Vallug's turn to smile. He nudged Eefera. "Aye, 'twas an 'ard job, tryin' to save 'em. We was lucky to get back alive, me'n'you, but we slayed the otter between us, eh!"

Vallug spat on his paw and offered it to Eefera. "No sense in 'angin' 'round 'ere, mate. Let's git goin' afore those other block'eads come back. I couldn't stand another night of Gruven's company, braggin' one moment, whinin' the next..."

Eefera spat on his paw and gripped Vallug's to seal their pact. "Yah, the cold an' 'unger'll take care of 'em. Come on, back t'the sunny woodlands an' a chance o' some decent vittles!"

Vallug stood to one side deferentially. "Good idea, mate. After you."

Eefera did a mock bow, but stayed where he was. "Nay, friend, you go first."

They stared hard at one another, eye to eye, then both broke out into false hearty laughter and strode off together. Neither of the two vermin wanted to expose his back to the other.

The stream did as many turns as a switchback, rambling and meandering hither and yon. Tagg and Nimbalo were not in any hurry, each enjoying the other's company. Eventide of the second day found them camped on a grassy spur where the waterway forked, one branch disappearing into the flatlands and the other rounding a fairly swift-flowing bend that took the water back into the base of the mountain.

Tagg tested the flow with his footpaw. "Shall we go this way tomorrow? It looks as if the current flows into some underground caves. Would you like to try it, mate?"

The harvest mouse threw more turf on the fire. " 'Twill be a bit of a bumpy ole ride on our log. Aye, let's try it. In the mornin', though; we'll rest tonight. Y'know, these fruit loaves wot Ruskem gave us, they're pretty good. I like 'em!"

The otter cut a chunk from one with his blade. " Ruskem's dandelion an' burdock cordial's very tasty too. Try some."