Brian Jacques - Redwall #01 - Lord Brocktree

Sailears could not restrain herself from crying out, "I hope I live to see the day you're chucked from the mountain top, cat!"

A spear butt struck her in the face and she went down. The rat who had delivered the blow raised his weapon again, point down, to slay the old hare.

Ungatt stopped him. "Halt! Leave that creature be!"

Parting ranks, the guards allowed Ungatt passage to Sailears. He stood over her, shaking his head. "I wish my creatures had spirit like yours, hare. What is it that creates such bravery and loyalty to some old fool of a stripedog?"

Ignoring her swollen jaw, Sailears levered herself upright. "You wouldn't jolly well know, cat, an' you prob'ly wouldn't understand if I tried to tell you, wot!"

The wildcat stood, paws akimbo, smiling slightly. "All I know about is conquest. I rule through fear, not affection. I'll wager you know where the stripedog is hiding at the moment, eh?"

Sailears maintained a defiant silence, exploring a loosened tooth with her tongue. The wildcat shook his head admiringly. "Aye, I can see you do! More than likely you'd rather die than tell me, and so would all your comrades. No matter, I'll find him. Just remember now that you are my slavesyou are all prisoners until you die!"

Then Sailears did a strange thing. She placed one paw against her head, the other over her heart, and smiled. "If that's what y'think then you've lost, cat. We all are free, here in our minds an' here in our hearts!"

Ungatt turned on his paw and strode off, calling back, "Don't push your luck, or I'll show you how easy it is to break a creature's spirit!"

He was answered by a concerted roar from the prisoners. "Eulalia!"

Whispering something to Fragorl, the wildcat departed the dining hall without a backward glance. The Grand Fragorl held her paws up to gain the hares' attention.

"His Mightiness has decreed that you starve, every one of you, the next two days for your insolence. Take them away and lock them up!"

Before any of the Horde could lay paws on the captives, Torleep, a fine upright old hare, rapped out some orders. "Form twelve ranks five deep, you lot! Look lively now, dress off to y'right! 'Ten . . . shun! Straighten up at the back theyah, laddie buck, show these vermin how it's done! Chin in, head back, shoulders straight, eyes forward, ears stiff! That's the stuff! Now, by the right, quick march! One two, one two! Right markers, keep those lines straight!"

Off to their prison cave they marched, surrounded by Captain Roag's bewildered vermin, who could not comprehend how a defeated band of ancient hares could sing in captivity, although sing they did, loud, long and courageously.

"I'm a hare of Salamandastron,

An' foes don't bother me,

I'll fight all day an' sing all night,

This song of liberty!

Liberty! Liberty! That's for me,

The mountain hares are wild an' free!

One two three hooray!

You can't stop sunrise every day!

I'm a hare of Salamandastron,

I wander near an' far,

You'll know me when y'see me,

'Cos I'll shout Eulalia!

Liberty! Liberty! That's for me,

From good dry land to stormy sea!

One two three hooray!

You can't stop sunset every day!"

Ungatt Trunn could hear it from where he stood at the mountain's main shore entrance. He looked at the black charred doors, still solid upon their hinges, and out to the shoreline, crowded by his mighty hordes. To nobeast in particular he commented aloud, "Fools, nought but old fools!"

Striding down to the unconscious forms of Groddil and Swinch, he picked up a pail of seawater and hurled it on their backs. They were revived, moaning with pain. Ungatt leaned down close, so he had their attention. "I want that stripedog found!"

He was about to threaten further when a vision of the other badger flashed into his thoughts. Big, shadowy and as forbidding as the war blade he carried across his back. Straightening up, the wildcat gazed out to sea. He could not explain it, but his confidence felt shaken. Moreover, he did not know whence the warrior badger would come, or the day he would arrive. The wildcat was certain of only one thing: the badger would come!

Chapter 14

Sunshaded, green and tranquil, the stream stretched, lazily meandering through the woodlands on this the questors' first full day together. Dotti and Gurth sat up for'ard, chattering away in molespeech; Ruff and Brocktree were aft, paddling. The otter nodded approvingly at their new crew member's velvety back. "Looks like we found a treasure there, matey. That brekkist ole Gurth cooked up this mornin' would've made his dad proud o' him. Bet yore glad we brought him along."

Brocktree could not help but agree with his companion. "Aye, and he's not feared of boats or water, like most moles. He looks as strong as you or I, Ruff!"

"D'ye think so? Well, we'll find out soon enough. Ahoy there, you two in the prow, pick up yore paddles an' lend a paw here. Let's make a liddle speed, eh?"

Gurth was a bit inexperienced, but as soon as he got the knack of wielding a paddle, there was none better. Enjoying himself hugely, he commented, "Hurr, Dott miz, this be better'n diggen at tunnel 'oles. Ee can keep ee paws noice'n'clean. Oi loiks boaten on ee stream gurtly. Et be foine furr ee choild such as oi!"

The haremaid found herself panting as she struggled to keep stroke with Gurth. His strength and endurance seemed boundless; he was not even breathing heavily. "Whurr did ee getten t'be so strong, zurr Gurth?"

"Ho, oi 'spect et be all ee vittles oi scoffed. Gudd grub an' lots o' sleepen, that be's ee stuff. Least that's wot moi ole mum alius sez!"

In the early noon a watermeadow appeared to the south. Dotti's keen ears soon picked up sounds from its far side. She called sternward to Brocktree.

"I say, sah, some kind o' jolly old hubbub goin' on over there. Shall we wander over an' take a look, wot?"

The Badger Lord scanned the sidestream, searching for an entrance, but it seemed to be blocked by dead wood cast there from the streamflow.

"There's no way into the watermeadow. Perhaps we should leave our log here and skirt the banks."

"You'm set thurr, zurr, oi'll sort 'er owt!"

Gurth grabbed a hefty beech limb with his big digging claws. With a mighty tug he tore it free from the debris of driftwood, creating an entrance for them.

"Thurr y'be. Naow take 'er in noice'n'easy, miz Dott."

Ruff chuckled. "I never seen that done afore by a mole!"

The watermeadow was extremely hard to negotiate. They were constantly shaking thick, bunched weed and long waterlily stems off the paddles. From the far side the sounds of urgent shouts and creatures thrashing about in the rushes echoed over the water.

"Get ahead o' the rascal. Cut 'im off, Riggo!"

"I got 'im. No I ain'tthe liddle scallywag's away agin!"

"Kangle, Furrib, there 'e goes. Stop the scamp!"

This was followed by a sharp screech and a splash. "Owow, the blighter spiked me. 'E's fallen in, chief!"

"Fur'n'snouts, look out, 'ere comes a pike, a big 'un!"

The pointed log prow broke through a reedbank, and the four travelers took in the scene at a glance.

Several shrews were dancing in agitation, pointing wildly at the water. A tiny hedgehog was going down for the second time, splashing and gurgling. He was in deadly danger. Gliding smoothly toward the hogbabe was a pike, its rows of needle-like teeth exposed as its jaws opened in anticipation, the dorsal fin near its tail sticking out of the water, dragging weeds along.

Dotti yelled out in dismay. "By the left, look at the size o' that brute. He'll crunch the little tyke in one bite, spikes and all!"

The shrews threw up their paws hopelessly.

"He's a dead 'un all right!"

"Nought we kin do now, mates!"