Marlfox - Jacques, Brian - Redwall 11 - Marlfox

Janglur muttered to Song out of the side of his mouth, "lust as well they can't hear yore grandma snorin' in this liddle lot. Be still now, here comes another!"

A second logboat forged along in the wake of the first, langlur moved forward, poking his head out into the rain, peering upstream.

"There's more of 'em, another four if'n I ain't mistaken. Never seen aught like this afore. I'm goin' to take a look. You stay put, Song. Y'know where my dagger is if y'need 11. Don't wake your mum or grandma, what they don't know can't 'urt 'em. Be back soon!"

Not far from the knoll where they had camped a big gnarled crack willow overhung part of the stream, langlur Swifteye climbed it with surprising speed and grace for a squirrel of his size and weight. Skipping nimbly out along one of the main limbs that bent over the water, he tested it for firmness. Two more logboats had passed beneath the willow, their occupants unaware of the presence of a squirrel overhead. Janglur looped his tail and footpaws firmly around the sturdy bough, hanging downward almost as if he were part of the tree. Another logboat bobbed past on the turbulent waters. He let it sail by beneath him, noting that all the vessels were parked with water rats, but the only Marlfoxes were the two in the lead boat. Unwinding the sling from his waist, langlur readied himself as the final craft shot toward the willow, a foaming bow wave curling either side as it plied the water. Three rats in the stern were bailing busily. As the logboat sped past beneath the watching Janglur, the hindmost rat bent to scoop up a bowlful of water. Suddenly, a noose settled around his neck and a paw clamped round his mouth like a vise. The rat's footpaws were hauled swiftly clear of the scuppers and the logboat shot on without him, his companions not even noticing his departure.

langlur flopped the water rat up over the willow limb like a landed fish, dealing him a sharp blow between ear and jawside. Working efficiently, he sat him on the branch, whipped the sling from the stunned rodent's neck and bound his middle to the tree. A soft moan escaped the rat's lips as he began to come around. Janglur patted his cheek playfully. "Hush a bye now, me ole cully, you sit there awhile until yore ready an' willin' t'do a bit o' talkin'!"

Song watched her father emerge out of the sheeting rain. He was carrying a bundle and whistling cheerfully between his two front teeth. One of the lazy hooded eyes winked slyly at her as he ducked to enter the shelter.

"Found some nice dry pinewood back there. Must be the only bit o' timber left in Mossflower that ain't wet this evenin'."

Song unearthed the knife and took tinder and flint from their pack. Striking the flint against the spine of the blade, she blew softly on the bright sparks that fell on the dry mossy tinder. A thin blue column of smoke rewarded her efforts, followed by a glow and a tiny flame. Janglur began adding pine splinters until they had sufficient fire going to pile on some of the pine billets. Wakened by the smell of wood smoke, Rimrose held her paws out to the flame gratefully.

"A nice fire. Would you two like somethin' to eat?"

Grandma Ellayo's voice came from the back of the shelter. "Aye, us three would like a bite if y'don't mind!"

The last of their provisions was made into an acceptable meal. Song sliced up the final piece of Rimrose's traveling fruit and honey cake, while her grandma brewed a kettle of mint and comfrey tea. Rimrose had saved four oatcakes and a small wedge of cheese. She toasted the cheese and oatcakes together. The family sat by the fire, staring out into the rainswept night as they ate. Later Janglur took out his flute and played, encouraging Song to sing.

"I once knew an ant and I knew him right well,

This ant he lived in a hazelnut shell,

He had relations to count by the score,

They used to come knocking on his tiny door.

One was called distant, he lived far away,

Another was pleasant, he'd bid you good day,

A third was constant, he was never away,

Then there was hesitant, not sure he'd stay,

And poor old reluctant not sure too,

And one called valiant stout and true.

Now I'll tell you the reason they all came to call,

"Cos this ant was the most important of all!"

As the final echo of the ballad died away a gruff voice called from the streambank, causing Ellayo to jump with fright, "Well sung, young missie. Y've got a fair pretty voice on yer!"

Song immediately grabbed for her father's knife, but Janglur stayed her paw, a smile flitting across his half-closed eyes as he replied, "Aye, better'n any ole scrag-furred shrew could sing, I'll wager!"

Surrounded by a party of Guosim, Log a Log strode up to the shelter.

"Hah! Janglur Swifteye, ye great fat branchbounder, I heard you was dead three seasons back!"

Janglur shook his old friend's paw heartily. "Log a Log Guosim, ye big-bellied brookbeast, I heard you died more'n four seasons ago!"

The shrew threw a paw about the squirrel's shoulders. “Well, we must be the two healthiest ghosts in the woodlands."

Introductions were made all around. The shrews joined their old logboat sails, which they carried with them, to Janglur's shelter. Using oars and dead branches, and taking advantage of nearby bushes, they soon extended the covered area. Log a Log sat by the fire, gratefully accepting a bowl of tea from Ellayo, while he told Janglur of what had befallen him and his tribe. The squirrel listened intently, then told Log a Log of his first encounter with the Marlfoxes. The shrew scratched his ear thoughtfully.

"D'you think the two you met are the same two who stole our boats?"

Janglur shook his head emphatically. "Impossible. We were too far apart, but I saw the two foxes that took yore boats this very evenin'."

Log a Log's paw grabbed his rapier hilt. "You saw 'em? Where?"

"They sailed right by here, round about twilight, six boatloads of 'em, water rats, with the two foxes sittin' for'ard in the first boat that passed. So I went t'take a look."

"So, tell me, what did y'see?"

The squirrel's long lashes flickered idly. "Wasn't much to see. I figgered they wouldn't stop to chat with me, so I worked the ole rear ambush an' captured one."

Log a Log leapt up and drew his rapier. "You captured one? Why didn't you tell me this earlier?"

Janglur rose with a sigh. "Because you called me fat an' said I was three seasons dead. Come on, stop lookin' so injured, an' I'll take you to him."

The water rat was fully conscious, but his face showed little emotion as Janglur loosed the bonds and hauled him down from the crack willow. Log a Log's rapier point was swiftly at the rodent's throat. The shrew's voice dripped menace.

"Now, matey, yore goin' t'do a bit o' fast talkin'. Who are these Marlfoxes, how many of 'em is there, an' what are you doin' in these parts? Make it easy on yoreself an' speak!"

The rat's face was blank, his eyes devoid of either fear or hatred of his captors.

Janglur prodded the rat's chest with a hard paw. "Where d'you come from? Are you from the same place as those foxes? I hear they come from a secret island at the center of a great lake. Tell us about it. Who rules there?"

The rat's expression never changed, though Log a Log noticed that his paws were trembling visibly. The shrew loaned close to Janglur and spoke in a whisper so the water rat would not hear them. "Wot d'yer make o' this one, mate? Mayhap he's a mute . . . Look out!"

Before either creature could stop him, the rat dashed back a few paces and flung himself into the swift-flowing stream. Log a Log and Janglur rushed to the water's edge and stood helplessly, watching as the rodent was swept away on the wild racing surge. It was far too rough and speedy, even for a water rat, and his paws struggled feebly against the surging mass until a broken rowan tree came hurtling like an arrow on the current. It struck the unfortunate rat and he sank instantly. Log a Log screwed up his face in disgust.