Brian Jacques - Redwall #01 - Lord Brocktree

"Cummon, B'ock, we go an' fish f'fishes inna big water!"

The badger gasped breathlessly as he tried to sit up. "Dotti, get this fiend off me! Throw him in the sea!"

Dotti had been trying to patch up the battered shawl she was taking as a gift for her aunt Blench. She stuffed it carelessly back into her bag and grabbed Skittles's paw. "Come on, wretch, we'll go down t'the water for a paddle."

Skittles held out his other paw to Bucko, whom he was quite friendly with. "Buck go for paggles, too?"

The mountain hare rose, dusting off sand. "Aye, ah like wettin' mah paws in the sea. C'mon, laddie."

"Goin' paddlin', miss Dotti? Splendid! We'll join you, wot?"

"Rather! Nothin' like a jolly old paddle 'neath the stars!"

Southpaw and Bobweave joined the ever-growing paddling party.

"Burr, oi bain't feared of ee gurt sea, oi'll cumm, too!"

Mirklewort chased after them, waving a towel. "Wait fer me. I'll need to give my liddle babe a good dryin' when he's paddled. Seawater can cause cornfluggenza, y'know. That's wot my ole grandma used ter say, an' she knew!"

Southpaw winked at Bobweave. "Cornfluggenza, eh? Sounds pretty serious, wot?"

"Oh, I don't know. With a blinkin' name like that, you wouldn't know whether to eat it or suffer from it, old lad."

When they reached the tideline the sea looked enchanting. A half-moon cast a path of golden ripples out from the horizon, and small foam-crested waves ran ashore, spangled with starlight, hissing softly on the cool, wet sand as they broke. Those who wore smocks tucked them up into their belts. Holding paws in a line they jumped over each wave as it arrived, splashing and laughing joyously.

"Oh one two three, come to me,

From far o'er the briny sea,

Four five six, each wave flicks,

Past my paws, the sand it licks,

Sev'n eight nine, all in line,

This one rolling in is mine,

One to ten, rise and wane,

Swelling as they come again!"

Bucko Bigbones splashed water at Gurth. "Yeehoo! Ah've no done this since ah was a bairn!"

The smiling mole splashed back. "Hoo urr, oi bain't never dunn ee pagglen afore, zurr. Gurt fun 'tis furr a choild loik oi!"

Skittles wriggled free of Dotti and Bucko. Throwing himself flat, he lay on his back in the sea, spouting water like a tiny whale. "Yeeuk! Dis water tasters salty t'me!"

Mirklewort, who had stayed dry on the shore, dashed into the shallows brandishing her towel frantically. "Spit it out, yew naughty 'og, or ye'll get seahytiss an' yore teeth'll drop out! Owww! Why diddent I 'ave a liddle nice-mannered 'ogmaid, 'stead o' this umthreekerr-fumchin!"

The instant Skittles saw his mother bearing down on him, he took off. In a spray of giggles and splashes he romped away along the edge of the tideline. Dotti and the rest gave chase. Skittles, as they had noticed before, could move surprisingly fast for an infant hedgehog.

"I say, come back, you little rip!"

"Och, the wee pincushion's awa' like a fish!"

"Get ee back yurr, maister Skikk!"

They pursued him until he could run no more. The hogbabe sat down in the shallows, twitching his head-spikes resignedly. "Skikkles 'ad 'nuff now. Muvver can dry me!"

The paddling party sat down on the beach, while Mirklewort scrubbed at her son with the towel. "Wot've yew been told about runnin' off, yew drefful liddle 'og? Wait'll yer father 'ears about this, yew brigand!"

Gurth silenced her with a wave of his digging claws. "Yurr, 'ush ee, marm. Miz Dott, can ee 'ear ought?"

Dotti's finely tuned ears quivered this way and that. "Matter o' fact, I can, Gurth. South of here, it seems t'be comin' from. Sounds like some sort of a ding-dong goin' on!"

Southpaw and Bobweave were up and running south along the shoreline, calling back to the others.

"Sit tight, chaps, we'll be back in a tick, wot!"

"Aye, you stay an' rest y'self, miss Dotti. We'll investigate!"

Bucko sat the well-dried Skittles on his lap. "Hoots, laddie, bide here they say. Look at yon pair go!"

Dotti borrowed the damp towel to wipe her footpaws. "Indeed, sah, I think the bloomin' wind would have trouble tryin' to keep up with those twins!"

Gurth found some flat pebbles, and they passed the time by skimming them across the shallows.

Neck and neck, sand spurting from their paws, the hare twins raced back, looking as fresh as when they left. Both were excited and disturbed at the same time.

"Vermin, those blue vermin old Fleetscut mentioned!"

"About a hundred an' fifty o' the blighters!"

"Got a small bunch o' hares'n'otters surrounded, the cads!"

"That's right, an' they're attackin' the poor creatures!"

"Jolly unfair, I'd say. Those otters'n'hares are takin' a terrible hammerin'!"

Bucko Bigbones grabbed a chunk of driftwood. "Dorothea, awa' wi' ye, bring Brocktree an' the tribes! Mirklewort, bide here wi' Gurth an' the bairn, point the way for 'em! Ye twins, find yersel' a weapon apiece an' take me tae the battle. We'll lend a paw 'til oor clans arrive!"

***********

Willip lay dead on the rocks. Stiffener stood over her body, a whirling sling in one paw, a sword in the other, slashing and whacking at the vermin as they hurled themselves at him. A spear had chopped a chunk out of one of Trobee's ears, and he and Sailears had been driven from their position. They stood out on the sand, backs against the rocks, thrusting hard with their spears. Brogalaw shouldered an otter who had been struck twice by arrows. The sea otter Skipper was using his broken javelin as a club. He roared out to Stiffener, his voice ringing over the melee.

"Stiff, there's two outside the circle. Get 'em back, mate!"

Stiffener bounded down onto the sand. Cracking the skull of one rat and slashing ferociously at two others, he drove them away from Sailears and Trobee, giving them space. "Git back up on those rocks, you two, quick!" Turning, he ran a weasel through and flattened a stoat with a swift, hefty punch.

Ripfang had done what all careful vermin officers usually do; he had stayed out of the battle, directing it from the rear and laying about the half-hearted ones who tried to hang back. He had kept Doomeye with him, but his brother had bloodlust in his eyes now that he could see victory in sight. The searat licked his cutlass blade and danced on the spot with frustration.

"Lemme at 'em, Rip. I wanna kill a few!"

Ripfang nudged him sharply. "Nah, yew don't wanna do that, Doom. Look, they've retreated fer their last stand. There ain't many left, but they got nothin' t'lose now, so they'll be real dangerous. Stay out!"

But Doomeye dashed forward, waving his blade. "I ain't scared! C'mon, Rip, let's see the color o' their guts! Yahaaarrrr, char"

Doomeye got no further. Bucko laid him senseless with the chunk of driftwood he was swinging. Ripfang turned and dodged just in time to avoid his second blow. "Wha ... you ain't one o' them, are yer? I ain't seen you before."

Southpaw and Bobweave needed no weapons. Both their long hind legs crashed into Ripfang's head, knocking him out cold.

Only ten hares and otters were left, forming a tight circle in the sand at the center of the rock circle. The vermin stormed over the rocks and leapt at them, but were repulsed by the ferocity of the reception they received from the gallant defenders. However, the vermin knew they had won the battle, and they pressed home their assault once more. Stiffener had lost his weapon, and was using only his knotted paws now. Brog pounded away at the wave of foebeasts with all he had left, a shattered javelin and a lump of rock.

Over the clash of battle the Skipper of Sea Otters called out to his remaining friends: "Give it one last go, mateys. We'll meet by the banks o' the sunny streams, along with those who've already gone!"