Brian Jacques - Redwall #01 - Lord Brocktree

The pompous bankvole was forced to comply with her request. This brought a few encouraging laughs and some shouts.

"That's the stuff, miss. You tell the ole windbag!"

"A gel that jolly well stands up for herself, wot. Good show!"

The bankvole cut them short with a glare, then he shouted, "Let the Braggin' staaaaaaaart!"

Silence fell on the crowd. Dotti stood quite still in the center of the ring and said nothing. Bucko paced about the edges, as if stalking her. Suddenly he did a splendid cartwheel and a breathtaking leap. He landed very close to Dotti, who did not flinch, and began his brag.

"Yerrahooo! Ah'm the mighty monarch frae the mountains! Mah name's King Bucko Bigbones. Whit d'ye think o' that, mah bonnie wee lassie?"

Dotti ignored him and waved cheerily to her friends. "Isn't he clever? He knows his own name. It must have taken him simply ages to learn it, wot?"

There was a ripple of laughter from the crowd.

Bucko stamped until dust rose, and leapt clear over Dotti's head. Still she did not move from her place. Bucko thrust out his barrel chest and thumped it.

"Ah'm nae feart o' anybeast. Ah wiz born on a moonless night 'midst thunder'nlightnin'!"

Amid the hush that followed, Dotti carefully wiped a speck of dust from her paw with a lace-edged kerchief. "Tut tut, what dreadful weather you had. Did you get wet?"

This time the laughter increased. Raucous guffaws could be heard, some with a distinct mountain hare tone to them. Bucko had to wait for the merriment to subside, his jaw and his paws clenched tight.

He thrust his face forward until he was eye to eye with Dotti, and his big voice boomed forth. "Yerrahoo, wee beastie, have ye ever looked death straight in the eye, eh? Then look at him whit stands afore ye!"

The crowd waited with bated breath. Dotti peered even closer at her opponent, until her nose touched his. "Hmm, you do look a little peaky, sah. All that shouting can't be doing you much goodall that jumping about, too. Have you got a pain in your tummy, is that it?"

Roars and hoots of laughter greeted this remark. Creatures at the ringside were wiping tears from their eyes.

"Yahahaha! Pain in the tummy, that's a good 'un!"

King Bucko was shaking all over. Glaring murderously at Dotti he gripped both paws, raising them over her head as if he were going to bring them down and crush her. She nodded in prim approval of his action. "Bit of exercise, sah, good! My mother always says exercise is the best cure for tummy ache. Come on now, hup! Down! Hup! Breathe through your nose, head well back, sah!"

She moved just as Bucko's paws came crashing down, one of them catching her shoulder, knocking her slightly off balance. The crowd booed.

"Foul! Foul play, sir!"

"He struck the little haremaid!"

Several hares, Baron Drucco, Ruff and the bankvole referee leapt the logs and rushed forward. The hares and Drucco restrained Bucko, and Ruff placed a paw about Dotti, while the bankvole placed himself between the contestants, bellowing, "Disqualification! Yore Majesty 'as broke the roooools! No creature, h'l said nooooo creature, h'is allowed to strike h'another at a Braggin' challenge. H'out o' this h'arena, sire, h'out this very h'instant!"

Bucko grabbed his cloak and pushed through the crowd, knocking creatures this way and that in his haste to flee the scene of his disgrace.

Jubilation reigned. Dotti was swept shoulder high and carried around the ring several times. Stamping, whistling and shouting, the crowd cheered her to the echo. Gurth and Fleetscut waved to her as she was borne past them; the old hare was overjoyed.

"I say, good show, absolutely top hole performance from the young 'un, eh, Gurth, wot wot!"

"Hoo urr, our miz Dott winned fur'n'square, zurr, but she'm 'ave t'do wotten she'm be told, an' not go a-getten swell-'eaded. Ee king be still gurtly dangerous. Hurr!"

When the shouting had died down, Lord Brocktree refused numerous offers for Dotti to attend feasts and parties in her honor. He whisked the haremaid back to their camp beneath the willows. Deaf to her protestations and appeals for food, Brocktree and Grenn ordered her to bed down in a shrew logboat. Moreover, they posted sentries on the streambank, to ensure that she did as she was told. Log a Log Grenn was as stern a taskmistress as any badger.

"You get some sleep now, young 'un. Fergit food. As of dawn tomorrer, yore goin' t'wish you'd never seen drink or vittles. The contest goes from sunrise to sunset'twill be a long day for ye, so close yore eyes. You Guosim, keep yore eyes open, or ye'll answer to me!"

Southpaw and Bobweave had been missing since the end of the Bragging contest. Grenn joined the others on the streambank as supper was served. "Are those hare twins back yet?"

Baron Drucco peered out into the darkness. "No sign of 'em yet, marm. You know 'ares, they've prob'ly gone off to some celerybrayshun or other."

Grenn looked to Mirklewort. "Celerybrayshun?"

The hogwife touched her snout knowingly. "Don't let our big words fool ye, marmDrucco means they've gone off to a party. Oh no they 'aven't, 'ere they come now."

Southpaw and Bobweave slipped into camp and helped themselves to supper.

"Sooper dooper, scones with strawberry preserve, wot!"

"An' hot mulled pennycloud'n'bulrush cordial. I say, you chaps certainly know your vittles from your vitals, eh!"

Gurth tapped his digging claws impatiently. "Did ee get yon jobs, zurrs, tell us'n's?"

The hare twins laughed, as if sharing a secret joke.

"Oh, the jobs of waitin' on table, you mean?"

"I'll jolly well say we did, eh, South?"

"Rather. That old head cook'll do absolutely anythin' for three flagons o' pale cider, wot!"

Drucco waddled angrily over to them. "So that's wot's 'appened to me fine pale cider. All three flagons! I was savin' that for me Season Spikeday!"

Mirklewort clipped one of his headspikes neatly with her ax. "Stop moanin', Drucco, yew'll wake Skiddles. Lissen, if'n we wants the 'aremaid to win we've got to make sacriphones!"

Fleetscut chuckled. "Aye, an' some sacrifices, too, marm."

Mirklewort nodded sagely. "Them, too!"

Brocktree took off his sword and lay down by the fire. "Good. I hope this plan of yours and Ruff's works out, Grenn."

Unsheathing her rapier, the Guosim Chieftain stuck it in the ground and lay down next to it. "Aye, I hope so, too. 'Tis costing the Guosim their last keg of old plum'n'beetroot wine!"

Ruff chided her. "Oh, come on, Grenn, stop whinin' about yore wine. Hoho, that's a good 'un, whinin' about wine!"

But Grenn did not see the joke. "We've carried that keg with us more seasons than I care to remember. There ain't a wine like it in all Mossflowerask any Guosim. One drop of it can cure any ailment of 'ead or stomach. It can clear up coughs, sniffles an' colds in the wink of an eye, take my word for it!"

The hare twins shared the last of the scones.

"Should do the trick then, wot!"

"Aye, provided miss Dotti knows her blinkin' lines!"

Chapter 24

Dawn arrived bright and sunny. Ruro shielded her eyes as she glanced skyward. "More like midsummer's day than the second day o' the season, what thinkest thou, Fleetscut?"

"Goin' t'be what we hares call a bloomin' scorcher, marm!" The old hare turned to Dotti as she walked with her friends to the Feasting challenge. "How d'ye feel today, young miss? Chipper, wot?"

The haremaid's reply was summed up in two fervent words. "Flippin' famished!"

Fleetscut stared at her sympathetically. "I know exactly what y'mean, miss. But remember, pace yourself. Don't go wallowin' in there an' scoffin' like a gannet in a ten-season famine. Cool an' jolly well calm, that's the ticket for you, m'gel, cool an' calm."

The crowd had already gathered around the arena, but they parted to allow Dotti's party to enter the ring. Bucko was already there, surrounded by supporters. His minions had spent most of the night planting tales of provocation, enlarging the insults to their king until it appeared to the gullible ones that he was the injured party.