Brian Jacques - Redwall #01 - Lord Brocktree

Skittles climbed up onto Brocktree's sword hilt and sulked. The Badger Lord reached up and patted the hogbabe's paw. "Maybe Skittles has provided us with the answer!"

"Burr, you'm mean smacken ee king's tail wi' sticks, zurr?"

Brocktree scratched his stripes thoughtfully. "In a manner of speaking, yes. We smack his pride. Can you see what I'm getting at?"

Log a Log Grenn caught on to the idea immediately. "Aye, that's 'ow Dotti'll win, by keepin' cool an' calm. Turn the jokes on Bucko, get the supporters on 'er side."

Jukka began warming to the plan. "Play the good-mannered, well-brought-up haremaid. Use thy wit against the braggart. Make him fall into his own traps!"

Dotti's friends all began making suggestions to help her.

"Use his own weight against him. Duck an' weave!"

"Aye, show him up to his supporters as a fraud an' a cad, wot!"

"Keep y'nose in the air an' dismiss Bucko as a ruffian!"

"Hurr, make ee king wrassle ee, miz Dott. Doan't ee box 'im!"

"Don't fret, miss, we'll show you one or two boxin' tricks!"

"Rather, an' when he's least expectin' it, you can use 'em!"

"Right! We'll outthink him at every turn!"

All that first summer's day they sat on the streambank, working out a master plan. Dotti practiced her new role of the cool, calm and distant haremaid, though she had trouble avoiding the admiring glances of Southpaw and Bobweave, who were obviously smitten with her. Every now and then the twins would be so overcome that they would move further up the bank and box the ears off one another.

Kubba and Rukoo paddled up at midnoon, with the logboats strung out behind them. Kubba shipped paddles and looked questioningly at Grenn. "Wot's goin' on 'ere, marm? Are ye wagerin' on which of those two hares'll knock the other's block off first?"

The Guosim Chieftain helped to moor the vessels. "Somethin' like that. I'll tell ye about it later."

Over the next two days Dotti wrestled with Gurth, was instructed in the art of boxing by two very enthusiastic young hares, and listened to the wisdom of her elders. It was all very helpful and instructive, except for one thing. Part of her training included a strict diet: no food and precious little water. For a creature of her young appetite it was nothing less than sheer, brutal torture. When meals were served she was forced to sit in one of the logboats, guarded by Ruff, out of the sight of food. Nursing a beaker filled with water with a light sprinkle of crushed oats added to it, she glared at her otter friend.

"Rotten an' stingy, that's what you lot are, miserable grubswipers. When I'm a kingessor d'you think queen sounds better?I'll banish the whole bally gang. Everybeast who refused a fatal young royal beauty a morsel, away with 'em!"

Ruff swiped her ears playfully. "Tis only for yore own good, young 'un. You'll thank us for this one day."

"Oh, an' pardon me, what dayll that be, sah, wot?"

Glancing over her shoulder, Ruff whispered, "Hush ye now, miss, 'ere comes Bucko hisself."

A light skiff with two mountain hares plying it drew alongside. Bucko was seated beneath a canopy with a jug of pale cider and a trayful of pasties and tarts. He grinned roguishly at his challenger.

"Weel now, 'tis a bonny summer noontide, lassie. Would ye no care for a tart or a pastie ... mebbe a beaker o' this guid pale cider? Join me, pretty one?"

Dotti blinked serenely. "Thank you kindly, but I'd rather not. I've just finished quite a large luncheon."

Bucko bit into a tart, and blackcurrant juice ran down his chin. "Mmm, nought like a fresh blackcurrant tartie, mah pretty!"

Dotti took a dainty sip of her clouded oatmeal water. "Nought like a fresh mountain hare, I always say. Kindly remove yourself downstream, sah, your table manners offend me. There may be a few mad toads down there who'd be glad of your company. Toads aren't too choosy, y'know."

Bucko bolted the rest of the tart and licked his paws. "Och, an' ye'd know aboot toads' manners, I ken?"

Dotti gave him her sweetest smile. "Indeed I do. Mother always held them up to me as a bad example. Pity your mother hadn't the sense to show you."

Bucko scowled. He tried to stand up, but the skiff swayed. "Ahll thank ye tae leave mah mither oot o' this. Another word aboot her an' I'll teach ye a braw sharp lesson!"

The haremaid stared down her nose at the irate king. "Pray save your threats until the appointed time, sah."

Bucko signaled his hares to row on. "Ye'd do weel to mind that there's many a beastie got themselves slain by their ain sharp tongue!" he called back to Dotti.

Dotti waved delicately to him with a clean kerchief. "Just so, sah, an' you'd do well to know that there's many a creature with a sloppy tongue slipped an' broke their neck upon it. Toodleoo an' all that!"

Ruff squeezed Dotti's paw as the hare's boat pulled upstream, his face wreathed in a big smile. "Full marks, miss. You was magnificent!"

Dotti kept up the pose, simpering and fluttering her lids. "Why thank you, my good fellow. Did it earn one perhaps a smidgen of that woodland trifle which Gurth made, wot?"

The otter shook his head firmly. '"Fraid not, miss."

"Yah, go an' boil your beastly head, y'great slabsided boatnosed planktailed excuse for a worthless water-walloper!"

Brocktree poked his striped head through the willow fronds. "Did our young lady say something then, Ruff?"

"Bless 'er grateful liddle 'eart, she did, sir. She was just thankin' us fer all the trouble we're takin' over 'er eddication. She's fair overcome with gratitood!"

The Badger Lord waggled his paw at Dotti. "Mustn't get overexcited now, must we, missie? Time for your afternoon napremember 'tis the Bragging challenge tomorrow evening. Can't have you overtiring yourself, can we?"

Sitting with the luncheon party, Jukka Sling put aside her bowl of cold mint tea. She listened wide-eyed to Dotti telling Ruff and Brocktree what she thought of them.

"Zounds! Methinks yon haremaid could give young Grood a lesson in choice language. Grood, cover thy ears!"

It was the evening of the first day. Crowds gathered at the log-bounded arena amid a festive air. There was music, singing, the sound of picnic hampers being shared and banter from supporters on both sides. Candied fruit and treasured possessionsknives, belts, tail and paw rings of precious materials, some studded with glinting stoneswere changing paws as betting opened. As usual, Bucko was the firm favorite. Nobeast had ever seen him lose, so they weren't about to wager on an outsider.

Amid a roll of drums and a blast from a battered bugle, King Bucko Bigbones entered the ring, with an honor guard of his cronies. He wore his broad belt, his cloak, two silver paw rings and the laurel-twined crown perched on his brow at a jaunty angle. Whirling the cloak dramatically, he shed it and threw the garment to his minions. Then he paraded around the perimeter, acknowledging the cheers by leaping high, with one clenched paw held up.

Dotti wore a demure cloak of light blue, with the slightest hint of a frill at its neck. She carried her bag and stood patiently while Mirklewort and Jukka made final adjustments to her flowered straw bonnet, specially loaned to her by Mirklewort for the occasion. Southpaw and Bobweave gallantly helped her over the log barrier, and she entered the arena alone. The bankvole referee puffed himself up officiously and roared in his stentorian voice, "Gentlebeasts aaaaall! Praaay silence for the Braggin'. Kiiiing Bucko will not remove 'is crown for this h'event. The winnaaaah will be judged by the popular h'opinion h'of your very good selves. The challengeaaaaah this h'evenin' is Miss Dorothea Duckworthy Dillfontein h'of Mossflowaaaaah!"

There was a smattering of applause. Dotti tapped the bankvole. "Correction, my good sah, the name's Duckfontein Dillworthy. Would you kindly reannounce me, please?"