Brian Jacques - Redwall #01 - Lord Brocktree

The fox signaled to Captain Swinch to bring his soldiers and scrambled off through Salamandastron's broken gates.

Stonepaw and his hares encountered nobeast on their journey down to the cellars. Without even torches, they felt their way through dark unused corridors and silent forgotten chambers. Down, down to the network of caverns beneath Salamandastron. Holding tight to the ancient Bramwil, Blench the cook waved her ladle in the Stygian blackness, so that she would not bump into any unseen rocks. Her voice echoed spectrally.

"Are you sure y'know where we're goin', lord?"

The badger's weighty paw descended lightly on her shoulder. "Hush, marm! Sound carries down here. Don't fret, I know this place like the back o' my paw. I've been Lord of Salamandastron more seasons than I care to recall, longer than any other badger. Stay to your left now, keep the rocks close to your backs, everybeast."

There was a slight splash, followed by a muffled groan. Stonepaw's voice sounded out a whisper of reprimand. "Left, I said, Blenchthe paw you wear that shell bracelet on. Keep close nownot far to go!"

Blench heard her ladle clicking on rock both sides of her, and guessed that they were passing through a narrow tunnel. Wisely, she ducked her head.

"Wait here, all of you, I'll be back in a moment."

The hares obeyed their lord's command, speculating in low voices as they huddled together in the dark.

"Where's he gone? Wish he'd jolly well hurry up!"

"What's that plip-ploppin' sound up ahead, Trobee?"

"Don't ask me, I'm as much in the dark as anybeast!"

"As much in the dark. Heehee, that's a good 'un!"

"Keep your blinkin' voice down, Bramwil, y'sound like a frog in a barrel. I say, what's that?"

Sparks flew up ahead, and there was a chinking sound of steel striking flint. In an instant the area was flooded with light and waving shadows.

Lord Stonepaw loomed up, a blazing torch creating a red-gold aura around him. "This way, friends. Follow me!"

Gratefully, they shuffled along in the badger's wake until he halted, holding the torch up against what appeared to be a solid rock face.

"Through here. 'Twas a bit of a squeeze for me, but you hares shouldn't find it too difficult."

There was a fissure in the rock wall, barely detectable. Stiffener looked at it incredulously. "You got through there, m'lud? 'Tain't nought but a sort o' sideways crack!" Emerging one by one from the narrow gap, the hares greeted the sight that met their eyes with gasps of surprise. They were in a medium-sized cavern, with a pool at its center, which threw off a pale luminescent green aura. Water dripping from white limestone stalactites plopped gently into the pool, rippling it constantly and causing a shimmering effect in the light. Smooth, worn stone ledges bordered the cave walls, with knobbly stalagmites looking as if they had popped up from the floor.

Stonepaw busied himself filling four big lanterns from a barrel of vegetable oil near the entrance. He lit them with his torch. "Here, place these about midway on the ledges."

When this was done the added light had quite a cheering effect. The Badger Lord called them all to sit in a semicircle around him.

"First, a few words for our dear comrades who are slain or captured by the foebeast. Bramwil, would you say it?"

Faint, eerie echoes rebounded from the walls as the ancient hare intoned in a husky whisper to the bowed heads before him.

"When sunlight tinges the dawn of the day,

Remember those brave ones now gone.

We who recall them to mind, let us say,

They were perilous beasts every one!

For those who live, but are not free,

May we see their dear faces again,

Mother Fortune grant them sweet liberty,

And cause slaves not to suffer in pain."

A moment's silence followed, the only sound the measured cadence of droplets hitting the pool surface.

Lord Stonepaw coughed gruffly and wiped his eyes, blinking as he surveyed the pitiful remnants of one hundred and fifty loyal hares.

"Right, council of war. First, we've no food down here, but as you see there's lots of cold, clear water. Now, let's take a vote by show of paws. What do we do next? Shall we sit here and wait to be rescued, or do we search for a way out to freedom?"

Every paw was raised for finding a way out of Salamandastron. The Badger Lord nodded approvingly. "Well, at least there'll be no arguments. Down to business, then. @WThat weapons have we, Stiffener?"

The boxing hare had his estimate ready. "Four light rapiers, bows'n'arrers, eight, full quivers, too. No more'n 'alf a dozen javelins, but everybeast carries a sling an' there ain't a shortage of stones 'ereabouts. Oh, eight daggers an' Blench's ladle. That's the lot, sah!"

Stonepaw mused over the situation before speaking. "Hiran. If we're going to get out, we'd best make it soon. I'll guarantee that Ungatt Trunn is having the mountain searched stone by stone for me right now. If we linger down here we'll have to face three things: discovery, and a fight to the death, or capture and slavery. Our final option is that we remain hidden here and die of starvation. Not a pleasant thought, eh?"

Blench dipped her ladle in the pool and drank. "So, lord, let's get goin' right away. D'you know the way out?"

Stonepaw shook his massive striped head. "I haven't got a single clue. Have any of you? Maybe an old ballad or poem might hold the answer. Let's put our thinking caps on. Hark, what was that? Listen!"

Sound carried far in all directions beneath Salamandastron, and now faint echoes reached them. Voices.

"Huh, 'slike searchin' for a grain o' salt on a seashore down 'ere. Jus' think, we could all get lost ourselves!" one complained.

There followed a screech of pain and the voice of Captain Swinch threatening the speaker. "Jus' think, eh? You ain't down 'ere t'think, Rotface, yore down 'ere to obey orders. Now git searchin' or next time I won't be usin' only the flat o' me blade on yer!"

"We need more torches, Swinch. Send somebeast back for them."

"Hah! Couldn't yer magic us some, Groddil? Yore supposed t'be Ungatt Trunn's magician. I think it'll be a great piece o' magic if'n we finds anythin' but rock down 'ere."

"Oh, do you indeed? Well, let me tell you, Swinch, if we return empty-pawed we could end up paying for it with our lives. You know how His Mightiness must be obeyed."

"Aye, yore right there, fox. Hoi, Rotface, you'n'Grinak go back an' get more torchesan' fetch some vittles back with ye, too. We might be some time gettin' the job done. Well, don't stand there gawpin'. Get goin'!"

The voices faded as the search direction changed, and soon there was silence again.

"Whew! That was close. Where d'you reckon they were, wot?"

Stonepaw gestured for Trobee to lower his voice. "These caves do strange things to sound; they could have been anywhere. One thing you can count on, though they'll be back. The wildcat won't give up until he's found me."

Old Bramwil's stomach gurgled. He rubbed it hungrily. "I could eat a mushroom'n'cheese pastie right now, one with a soft-baked crustmebbe a salad, too."

Blench patted the old one's paw. "If'n I was in me kitchens I'd bake ye oneaye, an' a deep apple pudden with lots o' fresh meadowcream on it."

Stiffener Medick licked his lips. "You could throw in a cob o' cheese, too, marm, the yellow one with sage'n'onion herbs in it. My favorite!" Then he wilted under Lord Stonepaw's stare. "Thinkin' o' vittles when we should be rackin' our brains for a way out? My fault, sah. Sorry, sah!"

The Badger Lord softened to his faithful creatures. "I'm hungry, too, but 'tis easier for a badger to forget food than 'tis for a hare. Never mind, friends. Let's get back to figuring our way out."

Hours passed, interspersed by the dropping of water and the odd sigh from a hare who could see no answer to the problem. Lord Stonepaw kept his silence, knowing there was no solution available. They were imprisoned inside their own mountain, and likely to perish miserably down in its cellars.