Brian Jacques - Redwall #01 - Lord Brocktree

A log-circled ring had been cleared further down the streambank. Dotti stood between Ruff and Gurth to view the combat. Creatures packed the circle's edge, fifty deep, while others climbed trees or took to the rocks. An enormous hedgehog stood to one side of the ring, a gang of his followers stroking his spikes and massaging his hefty gnarled paws. He kept shrugging his shoulders and sniffing a lot. King Bucko entered the ring to deafening applause. Throwing off his cloak, he joined both paws over his head and shook them at his followers in salute.

There was a line scratched at the ring's center. Bucko stepped up to it, flexing both knees and rolling his head about to limber up. The big hedgehog stepped up, threw a few punches in midair and snuffled. A fat bankvole came next, who stood between the contestants and roared out the rules in a voice that would have put a choir of crows to shame.

"Good creatures h'all, h'attend my words!" The crowd fell silent as the bankvole swelled his chest out. "Thiiiis daaaaay! H'a challenge 'as been given to yore king, Bucko Bigbones, the Wild March Hare of the North Mountains! By none h'other than Picklepaw Ironspikes, Champeeyun h'of the Southern Coasts! Roooools are as follows! No weapons or h'arms t'be used by either beast. Apaaaaart from that . . . h'anythin' goes! Theeeee fightah left standin' picks up the crown as victoooooor!"

Silence continued as Bucko gave his crown to the bankvole, who marched ten paces over the ground and held it high. He dropped the crown, and as it hit the ground the fight started. Dotti could not hear herself think for the noise.

"Och, gev hem the auld one two, Yer Majesty!"

"Show 'im the Picklepaw Punch, go on, Ironspikes!"

"I'll give ten candied chestnuts to one on 'Is Majesty!"

"A silver dagger to a copper spoon ole Ironspikes drops 'im!"

"Watch out for his jolly old left, sire!"

"Don't wait around, Ironspikes, gerrin there!"

With a footpaw each on the line, the fighters faced each other. Both ducked and weaved, though it was only the hedgehog throwing massive barnstorming swipes with left and right. As yet the hare had not offered a single blow. He stood firm, merely bobbing and bending backward, avoiding each haymaker as it whooshed by overhead or either side of him. Bucko was smiling, Ironspikes almost purple with anger and exertion. Dotti could not help whispering to Gurth, "What's King Bucko doing? Why doesn't he try to hit the hog?"

Gurth kept both eyes on the fighters, assessing them. "Ee king be a gurt scrapper, miz, ee'm wurrin' ee 'edgepig daown. Lukkee naow, miz Dott, ee king gotten ole Ironspoikes!"

The haremaid could not see how Bucko had the hedgehog beaten. Suddenly Ironspikes dropped one of his paws and straightened up, just for a split second, but that was enough. Bucko crouched and swung a massive sideways left as he came up. Bumpff! It connected with Ironspikes's jaw, his eyes rolled and he fell like a stone, spark out!

Dotti had to shout to make herself heard over the cheering. "Oh corks, what a fighter, what a punch! I'll bet nobeast could beat King Bucko, eh, Gurth?"

The good mole smiled at his young friend. "Hurr, miz, nobeast cudd beat ee king at boxen, but oi bet moi tunnel a clever wrassler wudd, burr aye!"

King Bucko picked up the crown and replaced it on his head, and the hares draped his cloak about him. He leapt over the logs, right where Dotti was standing, and winked roguishly at the haremaid.

"Och, 'twas a piece o' cake, lassie. Yon hog was nought but a great fat brawler. Ahey, you're a pretty wee thing, ain't ye!"

Dotti did not want to appear overimpressed by Bucko, so she stiffened both ears and looked distant. "Actually pretty's the wrong word, sah. I'm a fatal beauty, really. Runs in the family, y'know."

Bucko smiled as he chucked her under the chin. "Och, away with ye, missie, ah've seen fatal beauties an' yer no one o' those. Still, like ah say, yer a pretty wee thing."

He swept by her and was carried off on the shoulders of his jubilant supporters. Ruff noticed Dotti's quivering lip and angry features, and put a paw about her shoulders. "Ahoy there, me ole mate, wot's wrong with yore face?"

The haremaid shrugged off Ruff's paw. "Nothing. There's absolutely nothing wrong with my face. But I'll jolly well tell you something, Ruff. I don't like that cad Bucko King, or whatever he calls himself. I'd like to take the blighter down a peg or three, wot!"

Ruff stared at her in surprise. "An 'aremaiden like you, Dotti, d'you think you could beat 'im?"

The noise was audible as her teeth ground together. "I don't think ... I knowI can beat the blusterin' bounder!"

Campfires burned all over the glade area as night fell warm and soft. Lanterns hung in the trees reflected their colors into the stream. King Bucko's court was celebrating yet another victory by their ruler; the noise and merriment continued unabated. Dotti sat with Fleetscut beneath the willow. The rest of their party had gone off to join in the fun and games.

The old hare had a worried look as he spoke to his young friend. "I say, dash it all, miss Dotti, I was the one who should've challenged Bucko Bigbones, not you, a young haremaid, wot!"

Dotti poured cider for Fleetscut. "Sorry, old chum, y'far too old, he'd eat you. Besides, you ain't the one he bloomin' well insulted. The honor of the Duckfontein Dillworthys was at stakeI had to challenge the rotter. Not a fatal beauty, eh? I'll show him!"

The dark bulk of Lord Brocktree loomed up out of the night. He joined the two hares beneath the willow, shaking his head at Dotti. "I delivered your challenge to Bucko Bigbones. Sorry, miss, he wouldn't accept it."

The haremaid sprang up, eyes flashing angrily. "Wouldn't accept it? What d'you mean, sah?"

The Badger Lord shrugged. "He just flatly refused to accept any challenge from a young maid. I delivered the message formally, with due gravity and ceremonyit was all done with proper dignity."

Dotti was quivering all over, apart from her ears, which stood up ramrod straight. "And what did the blaggard say? Tell me, sah, word for word!"

Brocktree's huge paws fiddled about with a thin branch. "He said you should be at home," he explained, almost apologetically, "helping your mama to do the washing, and that the whole thing was a silly little joke. Then he laughed with his cronies for a while and told me to tell you there was no way he was going to fight a haremaiden. Said one tap of his paw and your face wouldn't be so pretty, not with a broken jaw. His final words were: 'Learn to cook and stay clear of real warriors, before you become fatally injured, with no chance of ever becoming a fatal beauty.' That's it, as best as I can remember, miss."

Dotti grabbed Fleetscut roughly and hauled him upright. "Give me that barkscroll you were telling me about, the one found by that Rabblehog. Give it t'me this bloomin' instant!"

The old hare rummaged in his tunic and produced the battered and stained scroll. Dotti snatched it from him.

"Listen t'this, sahthe blighter's own challenge!" Her voice shaking with temper, she read the lines aloud.

"Come mother, father, daughter, son,

My challenge stands to anybeast!

I'll take on all, or just the one,

Whether at the fight or feast!

Aye, try to beat me an' defeat me,

Set 'em up, I'll knock 'em down!

Just try to outbrag me, you'll see,

King Bucko Bigbones wears the crown!"

She waved the tattered barkscroll in Brocktree's face. "Now, sah, you've heard it. Is that a challenge or not, wot?"

The Badger Lord nodded gravely. "Couldn't be any clearer, 'tis a challenge right enough!"

Dotti quickly rolled the scroll and jammed it in her belt. "Huh, that's flippin' well good enough for me. Come on!"

She stormed off, her footpaws almost punching holes in the ground. A wide grin spread across the badger's face. He took hold of Fleetscut's paw, tugging him along in her wake. "Hurry along, old one, I wouldn't miss this for a feast prepared by Longladle himself. Things are going to plan, even better than I dared hope they would!"