Brian Jacques - Redwall #01 - Lord Brocktree

"Batter the door down? 'Ave yew got mud fer brains? Wot 'appens when the door falls off its 'inges, eh? I'll tell yer wot, there'll be two of us wid a spear apiece facin' three score o' beasts, ye slimebrained toad!"

There followed a scuffling sound and the clacking of spear staves as the pair turned on one another. Stiffener winked at Torleep. "We did it, mate. Come on, out ye go!"

"Wot, oh, er, after you, old chap."

"Get a grip o' that rope, Torleep, no time now for bowin' an' scrapin'. Out!"

The boxing hare watched the taut rope anxiously, waiting for Torleep to get far enough down it to let him take his leave of the hated prison cell. In the passage outside, the altercation between the two searats continued.

"Owow! Yew bit me tail. Savage!"

"Well, you shouldn'ta called me a slimebrained toad. Fancy callin' yore own brother a name like that. Look wot you've done to me skull! Split it, see, that's blood that is!"

Stiffener vaulted onto the sill, took a firm grip of the taut line and began his descent, with the quarrel still going on.

"Split yer skull? That's only a scratchthere ain't no blood at all, just a liddle bump! Doomeye, come back, where are yer off to?"

Doomeye scuttled off down the passage. He turned at the stairhead and stuck his tongue out. "Snagglefang!"

Stung by the reference to his single tooth, Ripfang brandished his spear and chased after his brother. "Right, that's done it. There was no call fer that. I'll crack yore skull good'n'proper when I get yer!"

Willing paws guided Stiffener to the ground, then Brogalaw was hugging him fiercely. "Good to see your ole face again, mate!"

The boxing hare looked about at his friends. "Thanks for yore help, Brog. I kept my promise to Lord Stonepaw. There ain't a hare left on Salamandastron."

"Oh, 'tis so sad. Our home is nought but a vermin den now!" Woebee wept into her apron.

Stiffener put a paw about her shaking shoulders. "There there, don't take on so, marm, we'll be back, I promise you. Sorry I 'ad to knock you out like that. 'Ope it didn't 'urt too much, marm?"

The old harewife dried her eyes and sniffed. "You did the right thing, sah. I was bein' very silly, carryin' on like that. If I'd had enough sense I'd have hit me for such shockin' behavior! Oh, isn't it good that nice mister Brogalaw an' his otters helped us like this!"

The sea otter Skipper bowed gallantly. "Thankee, marm, but may'ap we could carry on this discussion elsewheres. It don't do to linger 'round 'ere. Durvy, take our friends t'the cave. Rulango, go with 'em t'see none get lost. Me an' the rest o' the crew will follow, wipin' out our trail. See ye back at the holt, Stiff."

With Durvy leading, Stiffener in the rear and the heron hovering overhead, the escaped prisoners scurried off toward the clifftops. Brogalaw and his crew began cutting bushy branches from the shrubbery growing out the rocks to erase the trail.

"Don't leave a pawprint showin' anywheres, mates, or those bluebottoms o' Trunn's will be payin' our holt a visit!"

One of the crew stirred the captured sentries with his paw. Bound and gagged tightly, they rolled their eyes fearfully.

"Wot do we do with these two beauties, Brog?"

Brogalaw gnawed his lip thoughtfully. "I know they're only vermin, but I ain't never slayed an 'elpless beast afore an' I'm not startin' now. Leave 'em tied up 'ere. The moment we're gone they'll start breakin' themselves loose. They can be Trunn's problemleastways that scum'll know he's not havin' things all 'is own way when they makes their report. Right, let's make a move, mates."

The Hordebeasts wriggled furiously with their bonds, once Brog's party had departed. But a sea otter knows his ropes. It would be some time before the prisoners could hope to be even slightly loose.

Chapter 26

Brog and his crew arrived back at the cave in broad daylight. It was a fine summer morn, with light breezes coming in from the sea. Stiffener and the hares had only just got there ahead of Brog's party. The trek along the cliffs, after climbing down from a mountaintop, had worn the older ones out, and Durvy had been forced to make a few rest stops along the way. Greetings and introductions were still being made as Brog entered the cave. He joined Stiffener and put a paw to his brow in mock despair.

"Seasons o'saltsea, Stiff mate, couldn't you 'ave left that ole Woebee creature be'ind? We got three of 'em blubbin' now!"

Brogalaw's mother Frutch and Blench the cook were being helped by Woebee to stir the chowder pot. All three were sobbing and sniffling gratefully for the hares' deliverance.

Brog nodded to the two musical young otters, who broke out their small drum and whistle and struck up a song.

"Now have ye been away far,

To tarry an' to roam?

Well sit ye by the fireside,

Welcome to yore home!

The kettle's on to boil,

Flames a-burnin' bright,

No more you'll sleep alone,

'Neath those stars at night,

Take off yore trav'lin' cloak,

Come put yore paws up 'ere,

Put a smile in my ole eye,

Take away this weary tear,

You've come home mate!

An' in time for supper, too,

So it feels just great,

To say welcome home to you!"

Frutch brightened up immediately. She kissed her son's cheek. "Oh, Brog, you got 'em t'sing our song. Remember I used to bounce you on me tail an' sing it t'you when you was just a liddle fat otterkit? Such a chubby smilin' babe you were!"

The sea otter Skipper's tail curled with embarrassment. "Mum, d'you 'ave to go on like that in front o' everybeast!"

Stiffener patted his friend's well-muscled back. "I wouldn't complain if'n my mum was around to say things like that, mate. Let's see if we can learn about wot's goin' on among the vermin inside Salamandastron from Sailears an' Torleep. Might 'elp us to make a few plans, what d'ye sayme liddle fat otterkit?"

The boxing hare dodged a swipe of Brog's rudderlike tail and led him over to where the two hares sat.

Later that night the fires burned low. Nearly fourscore hares had been found places to sleep, and Blench was helping Frutch and Woebee to bake bread for breakfast. Stiffener and Brogalaw listened long and carefully to the two hares' account of all they had heard and seen while in captivity. Then, allowing the pair to get some rest, they sat together making plans.

"So, that's the lie o' the land, Brog. What d'you think?"

The sea otter added some old pinecones to the fire. "One thing's clear, Stiffthe bluebottoms are low on vittles. Feedin' an army that size takes some doin', mate. Trunn will have t'send foragin' parties into the land 'ereabouts. D'ye catch my drift?"

Stiffener smiled grimly. A good scheme was forming. "Aye, I'm with ye, Brog. We don't 'ave the numbers to go up against Trunn an' invade the mountain. But we can certainly try to cut off the villain's food supplies, eh!"

"Right y'are, messmate, an' this's 'ow we'll do it. I'll post Rulango to keep a lookout from the airhe can fly well out o' arrow range. Whenever he sees a foragin' party set out, he'll report to us which direction they're a-goin'."

Stiffener warmed to the idea eagerly. "Our crews can harass them, cut 'em off, steal their supplies, duck an' weave, hit 'em when they're least expectin' it!"

Brog chuckled as he poked a stray pinecone back into the fire. "They say an army marches an' fights on its stomach. Hah, let's see wot those vermin can do on empty stomachs! Even if they tries to go seaward an' fish we can hammer 'em. My crew was born in salt waterthey knows more about the sea than any vermin from the land!"

Stiffener Medick and Skipper Brogalaw clasped paws.

"We'll teach 'em the art o' war, mate!"

"Aye, an' 'twill be the 'ardest lesson they ever learned!"

Midmorning sunlight shafted into the passage from the cell window when the door was smashed down. Ungatt Trunn stared blankly at the empty prison. After a moment, he strode inside and leaned on the sill. Fragorl, the guard captain and a patrol of Hordebeasts stood apprehensively in the passage, waiting for the wildcat's wrath to descend on them.