The Bellmaker - Jacques, Brian - Redwall 07 - The Bellmaker

The blind mouse took a little time to compose himself. “Sorry, Saxtus, but I did hear Joseph actually stand and turn then. Thats what I was laughing at. Youve got it all wrong; the rhyme means that you turn the word thou.

Saxtus thought about it for a moment, then he tried. “Uoth! Whats that supposed to mean?

“Try turning it a bit more, switch the letters O and U around.

“Outh? Still means nothing.

Simeon took a sip of his mint tea. “It wont until you find where a snake begins.

The Abbot looked puzzled. “At its tail, I suppose. Thats where all snakes begin.

“Oh really! the blind Herbalist snorted impatiently. “Im Simeon, that begins with S. Youre Saxtus; that begins with 5. Now what does snake begin with? An 5!

Saxtus still looked blank. “Im sorry, Simeonyouve tost me. Could you explain it all?

Simeon spoke in a slow and patient tone. “Put the letter S with the word outh and you have South. Due South! Martin is pleading with you to sail due south! Saxtus swept the cup from Simeons paw and gave it to Rufe. “Mint tea is no fitting drink for a genius. Rufe take this to the cellars and fill it with the finest old blackberry wine, for a blind mouse who can see further than any beast in Redwall Abbey. Simeon, accept my humble congratulations!

Long into the afternoon they labored at the final verse, Joseph reading it over and over:

“Five will ride the Roaringburn, But only four will eer return, Urgan sits in Gaels Royal House, Warriormaid and Warriormouse, Say hasten, and give aid.

Rufe Brush repeated the second line. “But only four will eer return? Will one of us die, Durry?

The hedgehog shook his spiky head. “Pay it no eed, Rufey. Well take care o each other. Besides, it may be a trick line. Martin the Warrior always says one thing an means another. Dont you worry, mate.

“Durrys rightno use wondering how a journey will finish before you start it, said Mellus, as she passed Rufe a cup of cider. “Warriormaid and Warriormouse must be Marie! and Dandin, as you said, Joseph, and you must hasten and give aid to them. But what do the other lines mean?

Hon Rosie gave a careless shrug. “Five riding the Roaringburn and Urgan sittin in Gaels Royal House, wot? Whats a Roaringthingy and whats an Urgan or a Gael, even if they do have a Royal bally House? We either know or we dont, an take it from me, chaps, I certainly dont! Never was much good in the brainbox department, but Im frightened of nothin. So why worry about it, eh?

Simeon rose slowly, straightening up his old frame with a grimace. “Thats the wisest thing Ive heard all day, Rosie.

Joseph stood and offered his paw for Simeon to lean on. “Right! Weve got the five and we know which direction to travel. Thats good enough for me! Tomorrow at first light we set out to find Mariel and Dandin!

8

The dead heat of a still summer night was rudely broken. Columns of gray rats, armed to the fangs with all manner of weaponry, flooded out of Castle Floret. Nagru was abroad with his horde, out to hunt down Serena, her son, and their otter allies. The Foxwolf and his Captains led the army out across the valley floor, speeding their trot to a run as they raced up the wooded tor. Bringing up the rear was a cage. Six rats with cross-hilted pikes pushed it from behind, while up front, sweaty with fear, Mingol and Vengro pulled on the towing ropes. The wheeled cage rattled forward with the two rats tugging in panic, keeping the ropes taut to put as much distance as possible between themselves and the occupants of the close-barred prison cage.

Thrusting his paws into the metal-sheathed wolf claws, Nagru threw back his head, baying a hunting call to the night sky.

“O w w wooooorrrr!

Like an icy wind it chilled the blood of every horderat. The Urgan Nagru, their master the Foxwolf, was out with his Dirgecallers to taste blood. Stumbling and clanking amid weapons and arms, the lead platoons crested the hill, grinding to a breathless, quivering halt at their Captains signals. Leaving the escape trail of Serena and the otters clear, they dispersed into the surrounding woodland. There they concealed themselves in many places, some even climbing up into the trees. Trembling with terror and exertion, Mingol and Vengro arrived with the cage. Nagru dismissed them with a growl, and they fled thankfully into the thickets with the others.

The Foxwolf drew two scraps of cloth from his belt. One was a torn kerchief which had belonged to Queen Serena, the other a feeding bib of Truffens. The barred cage door faced head-on to the path taken by the fugitives. Nagru dangled the pitiful rags against the cage door, chanting in a singsong voice:

“Ho, Dirgecallers, swift and sleek, You shall have your share. Fangs will rip and blood will leak, Scent your victims. There!

He jumped back laughing as the bits of fabric were snatched inside the bars. The cage began reverberating; eerie screamlike growls mingled with the rake of scratching claws and grinding teeth. Shreds of ripped cloth flew from the madly buffeting pen. Fascinated and fearful, the horderats peeked from their hiding places at the spectacle. The Urgan Nagru gave a throaty chuckle, enjoying the sight of his Dirgecallers working themselves into a blood frenzy as they took the scent of their quarry. The wolfhide swirled out, starlight pinpointing Nagrus metal claws. He called to his horde:

“What is black and what is red?

The answer echoed back from the trees and bushes.

“Night is black and blood is red!

Placing a claw on the cage latch he shouted:

“What is the color of death?

The reply rang out to the dark skies.

“Foxwolf and his Dirgecallers know the color of death!

The cage door sprang open with a clang, and the Dirgecallers came bounding out.

Brought across seasons of heaving seas from the lands of ice by Nagru, maddened through a life of confinement, crazed from lack of live prey, two fully grown female ermine snuffled and wailed. Sleek maniac killers both, glazed red eyes shining against the dull brown of summer coats, teeth white as snow and sharp as spikes. Flexing claws as black as their tailtips, the two predators intertwined sinuously, weaving together into a perilous blur of teeth, claws, and eyes. The Dirgecallers suddenly went rigid, then with an earsplitting wail they sped off down the trail into the darkness. Nagru charged after them, his whole being suffused by their bloodlust.

“Theyve found the scentthe hunt is on! Ooowwooorrr!

Bush, shrub, and flower were trampled underpaw as the horde chased their savage master and his trackers; masses of armed rats thundered out along the trail. Then their cries died into the distance. The scene that moments ago had echoed to chaos regained its silence, and the lonely tor slipped back into the deep of night. In the hour before dawn, Serena found herself shaken into wakerulness by Iris. She picked Truffen up as the otter hustled them both to the streambank.

“Hurry, Serena. It will not be safe here soon. Get aboard this log!

The Squirrelqueen and her son hopped aboard the broad trunk of a dead fir lying in the shallows. Faint noises from afar floated on the predawn breeze. Serena rubbed sleep from her eyes, asking, “Iris, what is it? Where are we going?

Greenbeck s strong head broke the surface by the log. “The Foxwolf is comin this way, marm, huntin with a full pack. Hell find this place by dawn, but dont fret yoreself; well take you somewheres safe by water. Thatll put is foul snout off the scent. Stream water dont leave many tracks to follow; otters know that!

Truffen was still asleep aboard the broad log. Serena covered him with her cloak, lying alongside him as the quiet waters rippled by. Powered by a small contingent of otters, the fir trunk swept onward smoothly. Greenbeck and his friend Troutlad held a murmured conversation as they swam with the log.