Brian Jacques - Redwall #01 - Lord Brocktree

Suddenly a cry arose from outside the circle.

"Eulaliiiiiaaaaa!"

Bucko and the twins came roaring in. They crashed into the enemy's flank and broke through to join the beleaguered party. Momentarily the vermin fell back.

"Ah'm Bucko Bigbones, the mad March hare frae the North Mountains. Och, 'tis a grand auld evenin' tae be battlin'!"

Stiffener wiped blood from his eye and gaped in amazement. "By the fur'n'fang, what are you two doin' 'ere?"

Southpaw and Bobweave crouched in fighters' stances, grinning at the hesitant vermin surrounding them.

"What ho, Gramps? Nice time t'pay a visit, wot!"

"Thought we'd drop in an' lend a paw. Left or right, no difference to us, old chap!"

A venturesome ferret, who had aspirations to captaincy, charged forward, urging the rest on. "There's only three of 'em. Charge!"

He collapsed under a frightening barrage of hefty blows from Bobweave, who shouted as he delivered the punches, "Sorry t'make a liar out of you, old lad, but listen. Eulaliiiiaaaaaa!"

His war cry echoed back at him like rolling thunder.

"Eulaliiiiaaaaaa!"

Blue Hordebeasts were battered in all directions as Lord Brocktree mounted the rocks, swinging his mighty sword. The vermin fled screaming, though none of them got more than twenty paces. Squirrels, shrews, hares, otters, moles and hedgehogs fell upon them. They took no prisoners. Stiffener sat down upon the sand, staring at the Badger Lord, completely bewildered.

"It's like seeing Lord Stonepaw when he was young, but bigger, much bigger. Who is this badger?"

Fleetscut ambled up and sat down beside his old friend. "That's the great Lord Brocktree. Big, ain't he? A regular one-beast army an' no mistake, wot!"

"Fleetscut! My dear ole chapwhere did you spring from? Is this your doingdid you find Southpaw and Bobweave, and bring Lord Brocktree to our aid? Tell me everything!"

"Later, ole friend. There's business to do first."

Introductions were made all around, then the Badger Lord took command. "Log a Log Grenn, see if any vermin survived. I want no more killingbring them to me. Jukka, tell your squirrels to take these dead Hordebeasts and leave them below the tideline. The sea will take care of them."

Immediately, Jukka's tribe set about stripping the dead vermin of armor and weapons. Fleetscut could not help making a loud observation, within Jukka's hearing.

"Scavengers! Nought but a pack o' carrion crows!"

Jukka hurled herself at him, but the sturdy Ruff leapt between the beasts as they strained to get at each other.

"Thou longeared glutton, who gave thee the right to talk of my tribe in such a manner?"

"I did, that's who, you bunch of bushtailed carcass-thieves!"

Brog came across to help Ruff hold them apart. "Whoa now, less o' that talk. Stow it, you two. At this rate you'll end up no better than the vermin we're against!"

"Aye, lissen t'the sea otter an' get some sense in yore skulls. We're supposed t'be friends, not foes!"

They backed off from each other, glowering.

Ripfang, Doomeye and around a dozen vermin, who had been knocked unconscious and still looked distinctly groggy, were paraded in front of the stern-faced Brocktree. He silenced their excuses and pleas by picking up his sword. "Stop whining. There's nought worse than cowards crying. Now, are your leaders slain, or are they here? Speak!"

"Those two, sire, Ripfang an' Doomeye!"

Both searats glared daggers of hatred at the one who spoke.

Brocktree looked the brothers over. "Heed me if you wish to live. You and your creatures will bury our dead. Here, in this sand at the center of this rock circle. Carry them carefully, treat them respectfully. My creatures will be watching you, to see that you do."

On all fours, the vermin were forced to dig a hole with their paws. Brog, Stiffener and the remainder of the Bark Crew placed their slain friends gently in the grave. When it was filled in, the Badger Lord turned his attention back to the huddle of trembling vermin.

"This shall be the epitaph of these brave warriors, that they died fighting against superior odds, with no hope. Yet they never deserted their comrades, in whose memories they will live on. If fortune had been reversed, do you think they would have trembled and wept for their lives? Do you?" His voice rose so sharply that the vermin sat bolt upright. Brocktree did not wait for their answer, but continued, "No, they would not act as you do now, they had courage! And I will not act now as you would have, had you been the victors of this fray. I will not kill youyour miserable lives are spared. But I want you to take a message back to your master, from me, Lord Brocktree of Brockhall!"

Chapter 31

It was late morn of the following day. Ungatt Trunn exited by a window space, high up on the mountain, and strode up a winding path to a lookout post. Karangool was there with two sentries. He saluted the wildcat. "Might'ness!"

Both sentries slid past Trunn and backed off down the path, saluting and bowing furiously. He watched them, puzzled. "Where are those two going?"

The saturnine fox pointed north and slightly west. "Ambush party be comin' back, Might'ness."

The wildcat's first reaction was to smile, but his face stiffened as he glimpsed the fourteen figures, neck deep in the sea, plowing their way homeward. Wordlessly he swept past Karangool, back down the path. The fox followed him. As they came out onto the shore, Karangool looked back. Fragorl was watching from a chamber window, but now she ducked down out of sight, not wanting to be involved with what would follow. Wisely, Karangool dropped behind a pace or two.

Ungatt Trunn stared in disbelief as the pitiful party stumbled out of the sea. As before, the blue dye had gone from their coats; only their heads were still blue. Each had their paws bound tightly in front. Moreover, they could not avoid walking in a straight line. They had been linked together, at neck height, by four long pikes, lashed two by two, the poles pressing close against their necks. At either end of the pikes were long metal spearheads, which had been twisted together, two at each end, sealing the fourteen like peas in a pod. They collapsed on the sand, fighting for breath, for seawater had swelled the wooden pikeshafts, tightening their grip about the captives' necks.

Karangool signaled some vermin. They prized the pikes apart, slicing at the ropes that held them together. When they were freed, Ripfang and the rest lay exhausted, rubbing their throats as they gasped in fresh air. The fox inspected the metal pikeheads, wondering what creature possessed the strength to twist them into two spirals like that.

Trunn snatched the cutlass from a nearby Hordebeast. Karangool averted his eyes as the wildcat honed the blade on a rock, putting a sharp jagged edge on it. This he placed against Ripfang's throat.

"Where are the bodies of the Bark Crew? Where are the hundred and a half soldiers I sent out to deal with them? Answer me truthfully and I will spare you a slow death!" The wildcat stepped back a pace and swung the sword high to one side. He brought it slashing down, expertly stopping the blade a fraction from Ripfang's exposed neck, and roared, "Tell me, you worthless lump of offal!"

Ripfang spoke four words as if they were a magic spell. "I saw the badger."

The sword clattered against a rock as it fell from Trunn's paw. He sat down in the sand next to Ripfang, as if pushed there by a giant paw.

"Leave us. Everybeast go!"

Karangool, the guards nearby, Doomeye and the others scattered, leaving Trunn and Ripfang together, alone on the shore. The tail flicked out and pulled the searat close.

"I will not slay you. I have a half-cask of wine; it is yours if you tell me all. What did he look like, what did he say, who was with him, what manner of beasts? Tell me.