The Lutra - Jacques, Brian - Redwall 09 - The Pearls Of Lutra

Lask and his Monitors had a good head start. They emerged from the woodlands onto the path, where most of the panic-sped remnants of the crew joined them. The Monitor General found himself facing an angry searat brandishing a spear.

"Yew rotten coward! Slidin' away an' leavin' yore shipmates in the lurch! Yer a spineless, scale-faced ... Unhh!"

Lask wasted no time. One great smash of his heavy tail left the searat lying with a broken neck. Scuttling across the path, Lask leapt into the ditch running along its west side. “We muzt get back to the vezzel. Follow me, or ztay and die like he did!"

Wordlessly they piled into the ditch and splashed along behind the Monitor General, their flight made more desperate by the knowledge that the Redwallers would soon be on their heels.

Skipper was lagging behind. Martin waited for him to catch up, and saw that he was hobbling slightly.

"Skip, what's the matter, you old streamdog?" he asked.

The otter grimaced and lifted his right footpaw. "Oh, I'll be all right, mate. Stepped on some vermin's fallen sword back there, 'tis only a scratch ..."

Clecky inspected the wound. "If y'call that a scratch, bucko, then I'd hate t'see what you call a real wound. Gerul, Martin, scout about, see if y'can come up with any herbs. Sit still, old chap, this shouldn't take long."

Martin returned with dock leaves, but Gerul had found some young sanicle, of which he was very proud. "Me ould mother always said sanicle's just the plant fer keepin' wounds from gettin' infected. She said 'twas also a grand remedy for the owl wumps an' spotty egg pimples, so she did!"

Martin tore a strip from his tunic sleeve, and Clecky used it to bandage the dock and sanicle tightly to Skipper's footpaw. "There y'go! You'll never see an otter totter with a bandage like that on his jolly old paw, wot wot? An' y'won't have to worry about spotty egg wumps or owl pimples, or whatever it was that burblebeak's old mum was always goin' on about. So that's you fixed up, me ole scout, good as new!"

Clecky was right. Skipper could get along on the bandaged footpaw as if it had never been injured.

Dawn was starting to streak the sky as the friends scoured the path for signs. It did not take Skipper long to discover Lask's plan.

"Hah! Ole scaletail thinks he's throwin' us off the scent by jumpin' in the ditch an' sloshin' through the water. Just look 'ere, Martin, bruised nettles, broken reeds, mud sloshed everywhere, it's plainer'n the nose on yer face!"

They walked along the edge of the ditch following the signs as the sun rose on a bright spring day.

Chapter 20

Breakfast at Redwall that morning was a subdued affair. Tansy hardly noticed little Arven and the molemaid Diggum helping themselves slyly to the blackcurrant muffins on her platter. She looked up from a beaker of mint tea growing cold in front of her; Auma the badger Mother was rising from her seat. A gradual hush fell on the diners as Auma's paw went up.

"Friends, there is a lot of gossip and rumor abroad in our Abbey since last night, so let me set matters straight. Our Abbot and young Viola bankvole have gone missing; they are probably lost in Mossflower Wood somewhere. Martin has taken some companions and gone to search for them. I am sure that eventually they will all come home safely. Meanwhile, our life at Redwall must carry on as usual; Abbot Durral would wish it so. Therefore I ask you to carry on with your work as you always do, look after the Dibbuns, do not wander outside the Abbey gates, see to your chores, and above all please do not indulge in gossip and scaremongering. That is all."

Diggum absently took a gulp of Arven's pennycloud cordial. "Worrum 'bout ee gurt blizzard, will ee cum back an' eat us oop?"

Arven considered this as he stole Diggum's nutbread. "Naw, blizzards on'y eat h'Abbots an' voles's!"

Tansy wiped cordial from Diggum's chin. "The word is lizard, not blizzard. And don't say such horrible things. What has Mother Auma just said about gossiping?"

Arven wrinkled his nose at the hogmaid as he climbed down from the dining bench. "She din't say Dibbuns not gossip, we be likkle an' don't know no better. C'mon, Diggum."

With their paws about each other's shoulders, the unstoppable pair ambled off chanting at each other, "Gossip gossip gossip gossip gossip!"

Rollo joined Tansy, nodding in the Dibbuns' direction. "What are those-two up to?"

Tansy shook her head, smiling fondly at the retreating Dibbuns. "Oh, they're just gossiping, they're too little to know any better."

Rollo adjusted his glasses higher on his nose. "Let us gossip a bit about these pearls. Auma tells me we need all six of them to ransom Viola and the Abbot from their captors."

Tansy got up and accompanied Rollo outside. "That's a lot easier said than done. This third rhyme has me well and truly stumped, Rollo. Did you dream up any solutions during the night? I know I didn't."

Piknim and Craklyn were already outside, sitting on the ramparts over the gatehouse. Teasel the hogwife was with them, sipping at a large mug of dandelion tea.

"Mornin', Rollo, mornin', Tansy. My, wot a nice day 'tis. I'm just coolin' my ole paws out 'ere an' takin' tea, them kitchens gets so steamy 'ot after breakfast."

Rollo and Tansy went up to the walltop and continued studying the rhyme with Piknim and Craklyn, whilst Teasel sipped tea and hummed to herself.

Tansy passed the thin paper to Piknim. "Oh, here, you have it. I'm getting dizzy just looking at that rhyme and getting nowhere with it. My sad third tear is shed, for one who now lies dead, a friendly foe it was to me, a cunning old adversary. Hmm, I can repeat it by heart now. Teasel, you knew Fermald the Ancient as well as any; what friends did she have to your knowledge?

The good hogwife scratched her headspikes. "Friends, y'say? I don't know as Fermald ever spoke of otherbeasts as friends, 'ceptin' that wounded vermin Graylunk an' maybe ole Grimjaw, an' that'n she spoke of as friend an' foe in the same breath. Aye, Fermald were a right ole strange 'un!"

Rollo looked up sharply from the rhyme. "Grimjaw? Who in the name of autumn apples was Grimjaw?"

Teasel sipped at her tea, rocking back and forth. "Fermald often told me about Grimjaw, though goodness knows wot she'd 'ave done with the thing if ever she'd 'ave caught it."

Rollo blinked impatiently over his glasses at the hogwife. "Really, marm, will you please stop talking in riddles and tell us what you know about this ... this Grimjaw!"

Teasel blew huffily on her tea to cool it. "Now don't you get all sharp wi' me, mister Recorder, or I shan't say another word. Politeness don't cost pear pudden, they say!"

Tansy smiled winningly, stroking the ruffled hogwife's paw. "There, I'm sure Rollo didn't mean to be sharp, missus Stump. Please tell us about Grimjawit's very important that we know."

Teasel cast a fond glance at the young hogmaid. "Well, all right, missie. Never mind that ole grump, I'll tell you. Every time there was about t'be a feast or celebration, Fermald brought out her rod'n'line to fish the Abbey pond. She was forever try in' to catch a big ole grayling that'd lived there for more seasons than most could remember. Fermald wanted that fish to grace the Abbot's table, but she never did manage to catch it. She'd stop out there from dawn till dusk, empty-pawed an ungry. Later, I'd serve 'er supper leftovers. 'Teasel,' she'd say, 'that grayling is my best friend and my worst foe. The long hours I spent trying to catch that fish,' she'd say, 'but he won't be caught, the old villain, he always escapes my line!' That's wot she'd say."

Suddenly everything became clear to Craklyn. She waved the paper, chanting,

"Inside the outer walls I lie,

Without me you would surely die.