Brian Jacques - Martin the Warrior [Redwall 6]

Felldoh had got a fix on the voice. Three javelins in swift succession burst through the longhouse door, another one thudded into the roof.

Badrang lay flat behind his upturned chair, gripping the wood tightly to stop himself trembling.

"Hahaha, missed me," he managed to laugh back. "Pity you can't throw those things straight!"

Felldoh's reply came deep and confident. "Don't worry, I've got all night to practice. Don't go to sleep now!"

Gathering his javelins, Felldoh slid off into the night, leaving behind a very worried stoat.

Peering through a crack in the gate, Tramun Clogg saw the shadowy figure hurry off south toward the cliffs.

"Harr, 'twere as I reckoned only one beast. Well, I'd best get me sleep. No use tryin' to tell 'is Lordship he's safe to 'ave a bit o' shuteye.

He wouldn't take the word of a slave."

Away in the safety of the clifftops, Ballaw sat watching the gloomy little groups of creatures sitting around the campfire. All day long the mood had been heavy among them. The hare finished sipping cider from a scallop shell and made his way over to where the Rambling Rosehip Players lounged about by the cart.

"Evenin', chaps an' chapesses, wot! My my, you lot look like a pile of frogs that've been to a rock swallowin' party. No wonder our chums are lookin' glum if an entertainin' troupe can't smile."

Brome smiled wanly at the garrulous hare. "What do you want us to do?"

Ballaw twiddled his long ears cheerfully. "That's the spirit, young Brome me laddo. I'll tell you what I want you all to do. Bring a bit of cheer into those creatures' sad little lives, a laugh, a smile and a song.

Let's do a show!"

Celandine fluttered her eyelids and cooed. "What a lovely idea.

You'll have to wait until I've got myself ready though, Ballaw. Dearie me, I must look an absolute fright!"

"Fright?" Ballaw tickled her under the chin. "You, me pretty one, never. You look absoballylutely gorgeous. Come on, you apprehensive actors, the show's tonight!"

The audience sat shaking with laughter, their eyes shining in the firelight, the day's troubles temporarily forgotten as they watched the antics of the Rambling Rosehip troupe.

Rowanoak braced her huge back as Gauchee, Kastern, Trefoil and Buckler formed a pyramid on it. Buckler stood highest, on top of Trefoil's head.

Ballaw swirled a floppy cloak as he placed a scrap of material on the ground and called to the audience, "Pray silence. Please, no tittering or throwing objects whilst this dangerous trick is in progress.

Malcolm the Magnificent Mole will dive from a very great and perilous height on to this damp cloth. Ladies an' gentlebeasts, I present Malcolm the Magnificent Diving Mole!"

There was a round of applause. Buckler, dressed in a baggy costume and wearing a curly black moustache, took a wobbly bow from on top of the pyramid and announced dramatically:

"Oi be ready an' willin' to die,

An' moi wages be a custard pie!"

Dressed in a spangled gown, Celandine paraded, showing the audience a huge custard pie.

"Oh, dive, my loved one, my dear.

I have your wages here!"

"Well, hurry up, my back's killing me!" Rowanoak roared out in mock agony.

Ballaw did an elegant bow in the badger's direction. "Do not worry, madam. Your face has been killing me for years, let alone your back.

Keep quite still now. Malcolm, are you ready?"

"Oi be ready t' dive frum this gurt 'igh place on to 'ee damp cloth!"

Ballaw drummed his footpaw on a small tambourine. "We will not be responsible for small infants an' nervous folk who faint durin' this death defyin' performance!"

Fuffle leaped up and pulled Rowanoak's stubby tail. "Ho, gerron wivvit!"

" Yaaaaaaaahhhhhhh! "

Rowanoak tried to stand up and the pyramid collapsed. Amid loud laughter the troupe lay on the ground pretending to be stunned, while Buckler appeared with the damp cloth balanced on his nose. He struck out as if swimming. "Oi did et, oi did et! Oh, 'elp, somebeast, afore oi drowns. Oi carn't swim!"

Celandine ran forward holding the custard pie and calling sweetly,

"Oh, save him, someone. Don't let poor Malcolm drown before he's had his custard pie!"

"Fear not, fair maid, I will save the poor lad, for I can dive like a duck and swim like a rock!" Ballaw ran to the rescue. Celandine tripped and fell beautifully The custard pie sailed through the air, and Kastern caught it just as Ballaw whipped the damp cloth from Buckler's nose. He waved it dramatically "Saved, saved from a fate worse than tummyache!"

The flapping cloth hit Kastern in the face. She let go of the pie and it splattered all over Buckler's head. The audience fell about, holding their sides and hooting with laughter. Buckler bowed.

"Yurr am oi, Malcumm, cumpletely disgusted,

'Stead o' water oi bin drownded in custed!"

From the edge of the firelight Felldoh watched the performance.

Barkjon suddenly noticed his son sitting next to him. "Ha ha, oh hohoho! What a good show. Felldoh, where did you come from, son?"

Felldoh kept his gaze on the performers, smiling as he clapped his paws together. "I've been here all the time. Funny, wasn't it? Cheers you up to see somebeast taking a tumble, eh Dad!"

His father was about to reply when Felldoh pointed. "Oh, look out, here comes young Brome. I wonder what he and Ballaw are up to?"

As they began the next act, Barkjon looked strangely at his son and murmured in his ear, "Yes, and I wonder what you've been up to."

Brome sat banging a large drum.

Boomboomboomboom!

Ballaw appeared from behind the cart in a long nightgown and a tasselled nightcap. He yawned, stamping his paw bad temperedly. "I say, what d'you think you're doin' bangin' that thing all night, you young rip. I'm tryin' to sleep!"

Brome continued to bang the drum vigorously.

Boomboomboomboomboom!

"I'm practicing for the Periwinkle Parade!"

Ballaw wriggled a paw in his ear over the drum noise. "The whatiwinkle hooray, did y'say!"

Brome banged the drum louder as he shouted, "The Periwinkle Parade, you silly fool!"

Ballaw wriggled paws in both ears as if to hear better. "The pretty pinksnail in a slippy pool?"

Brome continued banging as Ballaw turned to the audience. "What did he say?"

"The Periwinkle Parade, you silly fool!" everyone yelled aloud.

Ballaw nodded. "Oh, I see. The gritty pigstail of a swilly cool!"

The audience roared out as Brome banged even louder.

Ballaw shook his head. Grabbing Brome's paw, he halted the noise.

"Listen, you young rogue, I'll give you a cream pudden if you stop that bangin'. Is it a bargain?"

Brome smiled foolishly. "Done! Where's the cream pudden then, flopears?"

Ballaw produced a big knife. "Inside the drum. It's all yours if you stop that beastly bangin'."

Still smiling foolishly, Brome cut the drumskin wide open and poked his head inside. There was a moment's silence then he called out. "Hey, lankypaws, there's no cream pudden in here!"

Ballaw did a huge wink at the audience and grinned wickedly. "Oh, isn't there? What a jolly old shame. Ah well, I'm off for a nice long sleep, 'cos I'm playin' my drum tomorrow in the Periwinkle Parade y'know. Good

night!"

Gauchee walked up holding a lantern. "Goodnight Mr. Ballaw!"

Ballaw shuffled past her. "Good night, Mrs. Gauchee. Oh, don't forget and leave my big drum out for me in the morning, I'm playin' in the Periwinkle Parade."

Gauchee threw her paws up. "Oh corks! I'd forgotten all about that, Mr. Ballaw. I'd better go and get your drum back off young Master Brome. I lent it to him to practice on!"

Ballaw clapped a paw to his head and collapsed in a faint. Gauchee turned to Brome. "Leave that silly old drum with Mr. Ballaw and come in for your supper. I've made you a nice cream pudden, Master Brome!"