Brian Jacques - Redwall #05 - The Legend of Luke

Martin threw his paws about them both. "When you put it like that, I've no option, missie. Forgive my bad manners to you, Gonff. Right, let's see what we can do with these stilts!"

At Martin's request the Dunehogs thrust two stilts upright in the sand and balanced another one across their tops. The three stilts looked like a doorframe standing freely in the middle of the ring. The Warrior bade everybeast stand clear. A silence fell as they eagerly watched Martin take up position, holding the sword over one shoulder in a classic fighting stance. After weighing the stilts up, he hopped a half-pace back and went into action with a roar. "Redwaaaaaaaalllllll!"

Like a shimmering blur of light the fabulous blade hit the topmost, horizontal stilt, sending it flying in the air. Almost within the same breath the sword zipped left and right, chopping both the upright stilts clean through their middles. Before the top stilt had hit the ground, Martin's sword severed it in midair. Even before the thunderstruck audience could shout or applaud, Martin had sheathed his battleblade and was sitting calmly next to Dunespike.

Amid the tumultuous applause, stamping footpaws and rattling spikes, the hedgehog Chieftain found his voice. "Well stagger me spikes an' pickle me paws! Martin of Redwall, ye'd be a useful mouse t'have around anyplace! I thought me own two eyes were tellin' fibs t'me. Sure an' I still don't believe I seen y'do what y'did, sir!"

It was enough to end the battleplay. A great old hogwife took out a curious stringed instrument and began twanging it with her headspikes, another began shaking a tambourine, and a third took up his little paw-drum and beat a lively tattoo.

Murfo seized Trimp's paw. "Haharr, can y'dance an' sing, miss?"

Trimp skipped down to the ring ahead of him. "Just try me. I recognize that tune, 'tis 'Hogstamp Pawclap'!"

Setting the sand flying, both young creatures went at the dance with a will, putting in all the fancy steps they knew.

"Hogstamp pawclap all around the floor,

Shake those spikes that's what they're for.

Day is ended, work is done,

Hogstamp pawclap everyone!

Curtsy the pretty maid, bow down sir,

You've never danced with one so fair.

Take y'partner one two three,

Swing to the left, love, follow me!

Rap rap rap! Let's hear those paws,

I'll stamp mine if you stamp yours,

'Round an' 'round now jump up high,

Lookit that young hogmaid fly.

Hogstamp pawclap, move to the right,

I could dance with you all night,

Skip into the middle o' the ring,

Raise y'voice let's hear you sing!

Can't you see, merry are we,

Here's the land and there's the sea.

Promenade, let's hear you say,

Honour your partner, jig away!

With a hog an' a stamp an' a clap clap clap,

Raise the dust up slap slap slap,

Beat that drum an' pluck those strings,

Ain't we all such lucky things!

Easy with the spikes now . . . Hedgehogs!"

As Trimp and Murfo halted, the music struck up again and nearly everybeast began dancing. Dunespike and Martin sat tapping time with tankards of Seafoam, a fine beer that the Dunehogs brewed themselves. Martin smiled as he watched Chugger kicking up his heels with a tiny hogmaid, and leaned toward Dunespike. "Guess who's just changed from a squirrel to a hedgehog. Haha, yesterday he was a Sea Rogue captain!"

Dunespike took a deep swig and wiped a paw across his mouth. "An' good luck t'the liddle sprig, sez I. See, Martin, yore pal the otter thinks he's a bit of an ould hedgehog, too!"

Martin was amazed at the transformation that had come over Folgrim. The scarred otter was roaring with laughter as he whirled a hogmaid around and around. Dunespike nudged Martin. "Sure an' I wish that otter was one o' me hogs. The boyo looks as if he'd stand no ould buck from anybeast!"

The Warrior winked at his friend. "That's the truth, mate, nobeast messes with Folgrim twice!"

Dunespike was still watching Folgrim as he answered, "Beasts without fear are far'n'few. I knew soon as I clapped eyes on you'n'Folgrim that you were two of that rare ould stock. Only other two I ever heard of was a mouse like yerself an' a black squirrel. 'Twas said that they were a grand ould pair of battlers who didn't know the meanin' o' the word fear, no sir!"

Martin came alert. "What were their names? Where did they come from, Chief, do you know?"

Dunespike had eaten and drunk copiously, and he was tired. "D'ye know, I'm not certain. The mouse had a short kind o' name. The squirrel now, was her name Rangfarl or somethin'? I can't think properly some days, me ould head must be turrible muddled from all that Spine-tusslin'. Wait now! I heard it said that the mouse came frorn north of here, up the coast a ways, though 'tis meself'd be lyin' if I told ye any more. Sometimes I wonder if there are more butterflies flyin' 'round in me head than there are out on the dune flowers."

Martin patted the old Chieftain's paw. "Never mind, matey. Though I'd be obliged if you could tell me how far the north shore is?"

Dunespike lay back on the rush mats and yawned cavernously. "Oh, four days about. You'll easily know, 'cos the weather gets much colder an' you'll see a great ould rocky point stickin' out into the sea. Martin, I can't keep me eyes open, so I'll bid ye goodnight an' peaceful dreams."

When the festivities had ceased and the lanterns had been doused, Martin sat awake in the firelight's glow. All around the Dunehogs' shelter creatures sprawled, snoring, murmuring, some even chuckling or singing broken snatches of song in their sleep. For some reason unknown to himself, a great weight lay on him, and tears sprang unbidden to his eyes. Then the Warrior realized what the cause of his distress was. He had been laughing, singing, drinking, eating and dancing, with hardly a thought for them.

"Them" being the father and mother he could hardly remember, who had lived only four days away from the place where he now sat. A vision of a ship, sailing off into a snowswept day, sprang into his mind, a memory of overwhelming sadness and pain. He gripped his sword tightly, knowing it was the only link between himself and the small young mouse who stood on the shore, watching the ship vanish into swirling snow and heaving waves. Weariness overtook Martin of Redwall. He lay down and let his eyes close. The small mouse, the ship and that long ago day grew dimmer and dimmer, then vanished into the realms of merciful dreamless sleep.

Chapter 15

Over the following days and nights, Martin hardly rested or ate. He was unusually silent, and spoke only when he had to. Draped in a blanket and sailcloth, he sat at the prow of the Honeysuckle,regardless of the hostile weather, which grew colder by the day. Dunespike and his tribe had given them a marvelous send-off, plying the crew with stores of food and delicacies. Trimp and the others had been sorry to sail off, the hedgehogs were so hospitable and funny. Martin's sombre mood affected the crew of the Honeysuckledeeply, and they were not the jolly bunch of companions who had traveled downstream together.

Log a Log Furmo cooked a special damson crumble, with Trimp assisting two of his Guosim shrews to make tempting arrowroot and redcurrant sauce for it. They sat beneath the stern shelter while Gonff dished it up to the crew, filling each bowl brimful and remarking, "Dig in, mateys, this'll put the roses in yore cheeks an' a smile on yore faces. Best skilly'n'duff I ever saw!"

Furmo raised his ladle warningly. "Ahoy, Gonffo, I'll raise a good lump 'twixt yore ears if'n I hear ye callin' my best damson crumble an' miz Trimp's sauce skilly'n'duff. Hmph! Skilly'n'duff indeed! What does he think we are, missie, a pack o' sea vermin?"