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

Silvamord was at that moment regretting her decision to venture outside Castle Floret into the downpour of a rapidly darkening evening. The squad of horderats was diminished by four, and some beast, or beasts, were stalking her and the patrol through the rising mists that curtaining rain was releasing from the warm ground. The vixen could not see her assailants, and she was rapidly of the opinion that she did not want to see them. Her one desire now was to get back inside the safety of Florets walls. To save losing face in front of her command, she ranted at them, “Stop pushing from behind there. Whats the matter with you? Frightened of a bit of rain and mist?

Beside her a rat gurgled and fell, transfixed by an arrow. She dodged behind a tree, calling out to the rat Fillch, “Wheres Graywort? Why isnt he here?

She jumped, startled as Fillchs voice came close to her ear. “I dunno, mLady. Gone off to see the Urgan Nagru, I think.

“You think? Who said he could? I never did. Whos second in command to Graywort?

Fillch knew what was coming, but he answered truthfully. “I am yMajesty. Dyou want tgo back to the castle now?

“Well of course I do, oaf! Silvamords voice was shrill with fear and frustration. “Didnt you hear me give the order to return? I cant see a thing with all this mist and rain; well be picked off one by one if we dont move.

Fillchs voice held a note of justifiable complaint in it. “But you was shoutin that order to Graywort, not me!

The vixen kicked out savagely, relishing the squeal of pain that issued from Fillch. “I didnt know Graywort was not here then, idiot. Why didnt you tell me at the time. Youre useless!

But Fillch was not answering. Silvamord turned on him, only to find the horderat pinned to the tree, slain by a barbed shaft from out of the misty deluge. Any vestige of boldness or courage deserted the vixen then, and she turned and ran headlong for the castle.

Her beaded skirt of tails swished wetly against her as, gasping for breath, she pounded onto the woodwork of the lowered drawbridge. Urging one another, the horderats plowed up the steps to the plateau after her.

“Inside, come on, move yourselves. Get inside!

The last rats hurried past Silvamord as Sourgall ran out, holding a scrap of sacking over his head to keep dry. “Majesty, I have a report from Urgan Nagru for you: he says that he regrets to tell you Captain Graywort ...

Silvamord did not hear the rest. She stood rigid, unable to tear her eyes away from the causeway steps up to the plateau. There, standing in a patch of pale watery moonlight, were two creatures returned from the dead.

Rab Streambattle and the badger Muta!

Moonlight glimmered whitely on the terrible scars and lacerations on the bare skin where new rur had not grown. She saw the otters paws rise as he stretched a shaft on his tautened bowstring, and acting instinctively, Silva-mord threw herself flat. Sourgall was still finishing his message as the arrow took his life.

Then Silvamord was dashing into Floret screaming, “Raise the drawbridge! Raise the drawbridge!

As the heavy wooden drawbridge creaked upward the vixen peered around the side of it at the plateau steps. Rab Streambattle and Muta were gone, vanished into the mist and rain like two wraiths out of a nightmare.

19

Finnbarr Galedeep drew his two swords as he watched the swarming masses approaching. Log-a-Log stood at his side, rapier at the ready, assessing the oncoming foe. “Giant marshtoads, big uns, there must be thousands of em! he yelled.

“Everybeast to the Pearl Queen, use her as a fort, well stand a better chance of fighting them off! shouted Jo-Iseph as he grabbed a long driftwood spar. It was a sensible idea, and the crew rushed to do his bidding. The shrew Patch pulled Rufe Brush away from iiihe memorial cairn, hurrying him along. “Cmon, mate. ;t Said Id look after you, didnt I?

Rufe found himself pushed aboard, and he took up his Iposition with Patch on the aft gallery of the crazily listed . “I dearly wish Rosie Woodsorrel was here, Patch, fee said. “She was as good as ten warriors!

Long green banners streamed out above the hordes of it marshtoads as they came on in their hundredsre, horrible, wart-studded creatures, armed with what appeared to be big curved scythe blades mounted on poles. Rufe swallowed hard, his paws trembling. “Ill wager they could inflict awful damage with those things. Dyou think theyll attack us, Patch?

The brave shrew tested the point of a boarding pike. “They aint here for a party, Rufe. You stick close tme!

Finnbarr grinned with anticipation. His lust for battle rising hotly, he spoke out of the side of his mouth to Joseph, “Well, it was nice knowin ye, Bellmaker. Lets go out with a bang. Dyou creatures ave a battle cry?

The toads were almost upon them as Joseph shouted out, “Give em a good roar, come on crewwheres our war shout?

Wild cries ripped from the throats of everybeast aboard: “Red wall! Redwall! Logalogalog! Red-waaaaallll!!!

The toads halted dead in their tracks.

An eerie silence fell over shore and cliff. Joseph looked quizzically at Finnbarr. “Great seasons of plenty! That seemed to do the tricklook at em, youd think they were frozen!

The sea otter was stupefied for a moment, then his love of battle took over. Clashing his twin sword blades in the face of the massed toad army, he bellowed defiantly, “Whatre ye waitin for, ya blisterin mudsuckers? Eres the Galedeep, fightin fit an rarin tgo. Ill take on any number of ye, potbellied marshspawn, web-brained cowards! Do ye use those weapons fer eatin yore vittles or diggin oles to ide in?

Joseph restrained the impetuous sea otter. “Steady on there, Finnbarr, no use forcing a fight with this lot. Theres too many of em; wed be slaughtered. Lets wait and see what they do next.

The marshtoads raised their weapons and began chanting: “Glogalog! Hoolya, hugg hugg! Glogalog!

The massed ranks parted, leaving a long aisle. From the foot of the cliffs came a procession of toads carrying a canopied hammock on a wooden frame. Lying in the hammock was a massive old toad, far bigger than all the others. Across his stupendous stomach rested a bulrush scepter with a sun-bleached lizard skull fixed to its top.

Patch nudged Rufe, whispering, “Looks like the big boss wants to visit us.

The bearers let the framed hammock rest on the sand. The marshtoad ruler pointed to himself and uttered a guttural sound. “Glogalog, Bulgum Glogalog!

“What dyou think hes saying? Joseph murmured to Finnbarr.

The shrew Chieftain came to stand with them. “I think hes telling us his name, Glogalog. Sounds very like mine, Log-a-Log.

The marshtoad pointed to himself again. “Glogalog, Bulgum! Bulgum!

The vast army of marshtoads bowed low, their voices almost a moan as they chorused, “Bulgum! Bul-guuuuummmmm!

Finnbarr sheathed his swords, “What dyer suppose a Bulgum is, mates? he said.

A familiar earsplitting laugh rent the air. “Whooha-hahooh! I say, you chaps, dyou need a jolly old interpreter, wot?

Patch had to restrain Rufe from leaping over the stern. “Its Rosie an Duny, he yelled. “Theyre not dead! Oh look, Patch! Rosie an Durry, theyre alive!

The Hon Rosie Woodsorrel and Duny Quill stepped from behind the canopied frame and waved merrily to their friends aboard the Pearl Queen. Both looked none the worse for their ordeal of being lost at sea. A great gasp of delight and astonishment came from the animals massed on the deck. Rosie and Durry crossed the sand, while the toads stood watching silently. They reached the ship, and dozens of hands leaned out to help them on board. Rufe threw himself happily on Durry.

“What the ... ? How did ... ? spluttered the Bell-maker.