Brian Jacques - Redwall #01 - Lord Brocktree

"Sounds like they're down there, wot d'you think, Grin?"

"Sounds go different ways down 'ere. Mebbe they're up yonder."

"Wot'll we do, then?"

"Give me the torch. I'll go an' look where you reckon they are. Stay 'ere an' wait fer me."

"Oh no, slyboots, yore not leavin' me alone wid no light!"

"Well, you go. I'm not scared, I'll wait 'ere. Go on!"

Grinak went cautiously, holding the torch high, calling out softly, so it would not echo, "Cap'n Swinch, Magician Groddil, is that you, sirs?"

A voice called from around a bend in the passage: "Who d'you think it is, addlebrain? We're here!"

Grinak hurried around the bend, his face illuminated by the torch. "We been lookin' all over for y"

His words were cut short by a swift powerful right and a left uppercut which battered him flat with lightning speed. Stiffener even caught the torch before it fell.

Rotface peered down the passage and saw the light of the torch wave from side to side.

"Wot is it, mate? 'Ave yer found 'em?"

A passable imitation of Grinak's harsh voice answered, "We're goin'. 'Urry up!"

The rat scuttled down the passage, dragging the food and drink behind him, afraid of being lost and alone. "Wait, 'ang on, I'm comin'!"

As he rounded the bend Stiffener struck. Unfortunately, the boxing hare had not realized that Rotface's head was bowed as he struggled with the packs. Stiffener's blow hit the rat, but only grazed his skull.

Rotface dropped the packs. He was a big, solid rat. Shaking his head, he went for his dagger. "Hah! 'Tis only an old rabbit. Come on, Grandad, let's see the color of yer insides!"

Stiffener Medick was not given to exchanging badinage with vermin. Coolly he sprang forward, feinting with a left at the rat's stomach. Immediately the rat stabbed downward with his blade. A swinging right hit him like a thunderbolt, breaking his jaw, and he collapsed with a sigh. Stiffener was off down the passage, the two packs in either paw, the torch clamped in his jaws.

Lord Stonepaw and the others fell on the food with gusto, though the badger shook his head disapprovingly. "You could have got yourself slain. Why didn't you wake me?"

Stiffener turned his attention from a fruit scone. "You need yore sleep, sah. So did those two vermin. Couldn't box for acorns, either of 'em!"

Blench winked at him. "That's ole Stiffener for ye, lays 'em out stiff he does! Here, my dearie, try some o' my plum pudden."

The boxing hare accepted it, chuckling. "Only did it 'cos I couldn't stand the thought of vermin gettin' used to yore wunnerful cookin', marm. Now if'n those two grandsons o' mine was with us, young Southpaw an' his brother Bobweave, they'd 'ave put those two rats down an' gone lookin' for more. Pair o' rascals. Talk about fight? Those two'd swim the great sea just t'be in on a good scrap. 'Course, I taught 'em, y'know."

Ungatt Trunn had now taken up residence in the mountain. He liked the view from Lord Stonepaw's chamber. Sprawling on the bed, he sampled the badger's best mountain ale, while chewing a savory cheese and onion flan from Blench's kitchen. A knock sounded on the door. At a nod from Ungatt, the guard opened it. Grand Fragorl glided in, standing to one side as Groddil, Captain Swinch, Rotface and Grinak were ushered in by the stoat Captain Fraul. Putting aside food and drink, the wildcat rose from the bed. He circled the four culprits slowly, his banded tail swishing as he noted their trembling paws.

“ I take it that the news is not good. Talk to me, Groddil."

Fighting to keep his voice calm and level, the stunted fox made his report. "Mightiness, we have searched through endless dark caves beneath your mountain, with no taste of food nor drink passing our lips. It is cold down there and totally dark. Alas, Great One, we found no trace of the stripedog or his creatures, though it was not from lack of trying."

Ungatt leapt onto the window ledge and stood there, framed by the sky outside. "Who are these two Horderats? Why are they here?"

Captain Swinch rapped orders at Rotface and Grinak. "One pace forward, you two, stand to attention, eyes front, tell His Mightiness what happened to you!"

The rats' heads shook uncontrollably as they rattled forth their concocted story to their fearsome master. They did it piecemeal, alternating one to the other, Rotface nursing his broken jaw.

"We was sent back fer vittles by Cap'n Swinch, sire."

"Aye, an' when we returned with 'em the main search party wasn't there, Mighty One, so we was sort of lost."

"But we never ate nor rested, sire, we searched for 'em. We searched an' searched an' searched, sire."

"Enny'ow, Mightiness, there we was, a-searchin', when all of a sudden we was surrounded. It was the stripedog an' more'n a score o' those rabbits!"

"Er, but well armed they was, sire. We fought 'em like madbeaststhere was blood everywhere!"

"Mightiness, there was too many of 'em. They stole the vittles an' left us fer dead, sire!"

Ungatt Trunn was on the hapless pair like a hawk with two chickens. Rotface and Grinak screeched as the wildcat's claws sank into their shoulders. He shook both of them, snapping their necks, and then with a mighty heave he hurled the two carcasses out of the wide window onto the rocks below. He was not breathing heavily, nor was there a trace of anger or bad temper on his face as he turned from the window ledge. He stared impassively at Groddil and Swinch as though nothing had happened.

"Tomorrow at first light you will return to your task. The stripedog is alive and hiding down there with his hares. He will not escape me, because you will find him. Take as many to assist you as you wish, take supplies, extra torches, anything, but remember this: return empty-pawed and you will wish you had died quickly, like those two fools who stood lying barefaced in front of me. Fail me and your deaths will take the best part of a season, as an example to all. Do you understand what I have just said to you both?"

Swinch and Groddil retreated, bowing.

"As you command, Mightiness!"

"We will find the stripedog and his hares, Great One!"

Ungatt waited until they had made it to the door. "Wait! Captain Fraul, have these two staked out on the shore below, where I may see them from this window. They are not to have food or water. Choose two strong soldiers to beat them with the flats of their own sword blades, and tell them to lay on hard. It will serve as a warning to my forces that nobeast fails to carry out the orders of Ungatt Trunn, not even a captain or a magician. They may be released at dawn tomorrow to continue their search."

Ripfang and Doomeye, the new recruits, were chosen to administer the punishment. They stood over their staked-out victims holding the swords high, looking up to the window. Ungatt signaled that the beatings should begin with a wave of his paw. Ripfang smiled apologetically at the two quivering figures pinioned on the sand. "Orders is orders. No 'ard feelin's, eh?"

Swish thwack! Swish thwack!

The sound of the flogging was soon drowned out by Swinch and Groddil's screams.

Ungatt Trunn turned from the window and prowled down to the dining hall with his Grand Fragorl hurrying behind. Threescore captive hares were herded into a corner, ringed by armed Hordebeasts. Captain Roag, a tough female weasel, saluted the wildcat smartly. "These sixty of the lesser orders await your judgment, sire!"

As usual, the Grand Fragorl addressed her master's words to the prisoners in her toneless cadence. "You longears are of an inferior species, not fit to live in the shadow of the higher orders. It is only on the whim of my master that you still draw breath. Ungatt Trunn, he who makes the stars fall and the earth tremble! Ungatt Trunn, the Fearsome Beast who drinks wine from the skulls of his enemies, Conqueror of the World! You live now only to serve him in slavery. If your work is not satisfactory, one of you will be hurled from the top of this mountain each day. You hold the lives of your own comrades forfeit!"