Brian Jacques - Redwall #09 - Salamandastron

In the twinkling of an eye he had vanished back into the depths of Mossflower. Samkim and Arula stood looking at each other, slightly disappointed at Furgle's abrupt departure.

"Burr, yon owd un doant' ang about, do 'ee?"

Samkim shook his head. "Not the action of a true forest dweller, I'd say. Still, I suppose he had his reasons. Now, we'll bury this one and track his friend Dingeye. Huh, some friend, leaving his pal here to die like that. Can't see the sword anywhereDingeye must have it. Arula, where are you?"

The little molemaid was swiftly excavating a tunnel beside Thura's body. A shower of dark earth flew upwards as she dug in with powerful blunt claws. Before long she vanished into the hole, and the ground trembled and heaved alongside the dead stoat. Samkim blinked with surprise as she emerged from the ground nearThura's ears. Arula dusted herself down.

"Thurr, that be done! Jus' tip'm in with 'ee bow, Sanken."

Samkim levered the body over with his bow. It plopped onto the tunnel top and the earth gave way. Arula covered it with the earth she had pushed out from the excavation.

"Best oi c'n do fer 'ee, pore stoater, tho' 'ee'm wurra bad lot."

Though the lunch at Redwall had only been a light summer salad and some blackberry scones, Friar Bellows found him-

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self weary and perspiring. He left the Abbey kitchens and went to sit out by the pond where it was cool. The fat mouse took off his cap and apron and mopped his brow with a dock leaf. Thrugg came over, shaking out his shrimp net.

"Avast there, ol' Sellers. No scones to bake for tea-time?" The Friar sat down rather heavily, shaking his head. "Oh, scones. I'll get to 'em later. Very good, very gD'you know, Thrugg, I feel terribly dizzy today."

Thrugg sat down beside him. "I 'spect it's wi' workin' around those hot ovens, matey."

"No, I never lit the ovens today. Brrrr! It's cold out here!" The jovial otter looked at him quizzically. "Cold? It's the middle of summer, me 'eartie. I don't know as 'ow y'can say it's cold when you're all asweat."

Bellows lay back and wiped his whiskers. "You're right. I'm sweating but I feel cold. Those scones, must get the ovens lit. Mrs. Spinney'11 help me with the mixin'... . Very good, very good. ... Hmmmm."

Brother Hollybeny was shaking a blanket from the Infirmary window to freshen it when Thrugg called up to him, "Ahoy there, Brother. Friar Bellows ain't lookin' too chipper. D'you want me to tote him up to sickbay so's you can give the pore mouse a look over?"

Hollyberry folded the blanket neatly. "Bring him up, Thrugg, there's a good fellow."

When Thrugg had gone, Hollyberry turned to a very downcast young hedgehog sitting on the edge of one of the beds.

"Now close your eyes and open your mouth, young Brin-kle. Be brave, this physic will make you feel better and stop all that shivering and sweating. You'll be right as rain by teatime, believe me, young feller."

Tudd Spinney found his old friend Burrley Mole seated with his back to a barrel of October ale down in the wine cellars. He shook his stick disapprovingly. "You been oversamplin' of our October ale again, Burrley?"

The mole's normally bright eyes lacked luster. He waved

a hefty digging claw at his hedgehog companion. "Hummmm! Go 'way, Tudd. Oi feels orful an' drefful, nor a drop'n of 'ee Nextober ale 'as passed moi lips t'day!"

Tudd heaved Burrley up onto his paws. "C'mon, ol' mate. May'ap yore sickenin' for summat. Let's git you up to the Tirmary."

By evening the Infirmary was full. Abbess Vale and Holly-berry were discussing using one of the upper galleries of the Abbey as a sickbay when Baby Dumble began his interminable tugging upon her habit.

"Muvva Vale, Muvva Vale, there's a funny old un wiv a cloud stucked on 'is face at the main gate. Wantsa see you, Muvva!"

The Abbess pried Dumble free from her gown. "Yes yes, Dumble. Now go and play like a good little dormouse. I'll be down as soon as I can."

However, there was no need for the Abbess to go to the main gate. Mrs. Faith Spinney had opened it to the stranger, and she brought him to the upper gallery.

"Vale, my dear, this is Furgle Woodvole the Hermit. Would you believe, he met Samkim and Arula today. I think he wants to speak with you."

Abbess Vale took Furgle's paw. "So good of you to come with news of our young ones, Mr. Furgle. You must be tired and hungry coming such a long way. Come with me and I'll see you're fed and rested. Mrs. Spinney, would you take over here with Brother Hollyberry while I see to our visitor."

.Seated in the privacy of the Abbess's room, Furgle took elderberry wine and plumcake with relish. When he had satisfied his hunger he turned to the Abbess with a look of concern upon his face.

"You look like a sensible lady, Abbess. I've got something serious to say to you, so listen carefully." ;, Vale's paws plucked nervously at her sleeve. "Is it Samkim or Arula? Oh please, Mr. Furgle, tell me that they're all

;lt;jght!"

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The hermit refilled his beaker with the dark red wine. "Oh, they're fine, madam, just fine. It's the stoat I've come to tell you aboutone of the two that were here at Redwall. This very day at sometime before noon he dropped dead. I've gone over all the possibilities on the way to your Abbey. I'm certain now: by the look of that creature he died from Dryditch Fever!"

The Abbess's paws knotted into the hem of her sleeve and her eyes were wide with fright as she breathed the terrible name. "Dryditch Fever! Are you sure, Mr. Furgle?"

The woodland recluse nodded his head sadly. "I wish I weren't. Abbess, but it's Dryditch Fever all right!"

Mara was awakened by something heavy-descending upon her. The air was filled with wild gleeful croaking as she tried to stand but fell flat with the smothering weight. Her voice sounded muffled as she called out. "What's going on? Pikkle, wake up!"

Beside her she felt Pikkle stirring into action. "Phwaw! I say, what's apaw? This thing stinks!"

Mara managed to push him flat. She lay still a moment as she tried to make some sense of the situation. Instantly it became clear and the icy paw of fear gripped her. They were both enveloped in the meshes of a sprawling net fashioned from tough dried reed-grass and weighted all around with boulders. Through the small apertures she could see literally hundreds of large toads; the slimy creatures were waddling and hopping about in a primitive victory dance, their baggy throats puffing and swelling as they croaked a horrid tuneless chant. Most of them were armed with tridents or a curious type of flail with stone-tipped thongs.

The sand lizard Swinkee leaped triumphantly forward, brandishing the dagger and broken javelin that had been their only weapons. Thrusting his leering face close to the net, he

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slithered his tongue in and out as he watched the plight of Pikkle and Mara.

"Ksss! Howja feel now? Kaha kaha! Want ta pull me tail off, steal me den, abeat me up? Kksss!"

Mara was about to say that they had not harmed him, but she thought better of it. Unknowingly they had made a dangerous enemy. She tried reasoning with Swinkee. "I'm sorry about what happened. We didn't mean to upset you. We promised to reward you if you took us back home."

"Kksss! Liarssss!" The lizard spat through the meshes at her. "Youa don't fool Swinkee. Kahaha! I got plenty swamp-flies V marshworms off King Glagweb inna trade for you. Swinkee-a like revenge. Kksss!"

Pikkle pawed at the net in helpless fury. "You're an absolute bounder, Stinkee. D'you hear me? If I could get out of this confounded shrimp trap I'd raise a blister on your noggin that wouldn't go down in a season!"