Brian Jacques - Redwall #09 - Salamandastron

Big Oxeye checked his empty quiver. "Don't mind me sayin' so, M'lud, but there won't be too many around to grow old after this fight's finished!"

16

Dryditch Fever!

The awful name was enough to chill the heart of any crea-ture. A hasty conference was called by the Abbey elders Abbess Vale, Bremmun, Faith Spinney and Brother Holly-berry, with Furgle the Hermit sitting in on the proceedings. Abbess Vale addressed them.

"Friends, if something is not done swiftly this dreadful fever may wipe us all out. Brother Hollyberry, as Infirmary Keeper do you have any knowledge of this illness?"

Hollyberry pursed his lips. "Mother Abbess, my skills are simple and very limited; tummyaches, headaches, scratches and wounds are what I am used to. I have had a quick look through my medical books, and the opinion of most former Infirmary Keepers is that there is no sure cure for Dryditch Fever. I can keep it under a certain amount of control with my own remedies, but alas I cannot cure it."

"Flowers of Icetor, heh heh heh! But that's only an old mousewives' tale. Heh heh heh, Flowers of Icetor indeed!"

They all turned and stared at Furgle. The woodland Hermit shrugged as he did a small hopskip.

"Never needed anything myselfmedicines, pah! Though when I was young my grandma used to say that the only thing

128

Brian Jacques

which could cure Dryditch Fever was the Flowers of lector, boiled in fresh springwater. I think she was mad, of course. Quite mad!"

Faith Spinney shook her paw severely at Furgle. "Show some respect for your elders. My grandma used to say the same thing, Flowers of Icetor from the mountains of the north. Now I recalls her words, she always said that they could cure most anythin'. But who knows where the mountains of the north are? Mercy me, no right-thinkin' Redwaller ever goes north. That's badlands. Tis a hard and hostile region we know little about."

"Mousewives' tale or no, we've got to give it a try." Bremmun stood up officiously. "I'll go this very day, see if I don't."

Thrugg had been standing nearby waiting to speak with Hollyberry. He pressed Bremmun back down into his chair. "No, matey, you're too old and long in the tooth t' be climb-in' northern mountains. I'll go. Oh, Hollyberry, yore wanted up in the Affirmerytwo more creatures just been took poorly."

Mrs. Faith Spinney was very fond of Thrugg. She patted his paw. "Oh, you are a brave creature, Thrugg. We must send somebeast with you to help you on your quest."

Thrugg shuffled awkwardly. "Bless yer, marm, but I'll be fine steerin' a lone course. Every spare pair o' paws will be needed 'ere at Redwall to cope with the fever. 'Sides, I'm mortal feared of bein' sick, so I'd best find this flower quick like. What's it called again, Furgle?"

"Heh heh. Icetor, you great ignoramusFlowers of Icetor. Though as to where you'll find it or the north mountains is a mystery to me."

Thrugg took hold of Furgle in his brawny paws and lifted him easily on to the tabletop. "Hark t' me, woodvole. You ever call me iggeramius agin an' you'll be goin' for a swim in the pond, fully dressed. Yore so clever, but not clever enough t' see the answer to your own question. Where's the north mountains? Why, in the North, o' course. There's a path right outside this 'ere Abbey leadin' north, an' I intends takin'

Scdammdastron

129

it. Flowers of Icetor, eh. Don't you fret yore spikes, Mrs. Spinneyol' Thrugg will bring back bouquets of 'em! I ain't never seen no Flowers of Icetor, but I 'spect if they're so val'ble an* rare I'll know those blossoms as soon as I claps eyes on 'em. Mountain's in the north, flowers is on the mountainwhat more does a beast need t' know? You leave it t' me, mates!"

The big otter's logic was so strong and straightforward that he received a hearty round of applause. Everybeast was in agreement, Thrugg was the otter for the job; in fact, the quest-.jngMight in Thrugg's eye discouraged any fainthearted disagreement.

Being a beast of his word and a creature of action, Thrugg set out without delay, taking with him his throwing sling and pebbles and a large haversack of food. Night had long fallen when he was waved off along the north path from the Abbey gates by a contingent of his Redwall friends.

"Goodbye and good luck, Thrugg!"

"Ho urr, you'm taken good care of 'ee'self."

"Hurry back with the flowers, matey!"

"Do be careful, Mr. Thrugg!"

The gates shut behind him as the otter strode out boldly along the dusty brown path to the north.

Thrugg had not been walking long when he began hearing sounds from the woodlands on his right. He tied a big pebble into his sling. Whoever was trailing him would be called sharply to account if they tried anything. A paie sliver of moon illuminated the path and woodlands dimly as the otter watched the small bushes and shrubs moving not far from where he trod; his hidden follower was trying hard to keep pace with him. Smiling grimly to himself, he twirled his sling meaningfully and stopped. The other stopped too. Suddenly a juniper bush began shaking and thrashing madly and a squeaky little voice cut through the night silence.

"Elpelpelp! Mista Thugg, it's a serpink, a serpink got me!" The voice could belong to only one creature: Baby Dumble.

130

Brian Jacques

Salamandostron

131

Thrugg hurled himself into the woodland and pounced upon the bush, ripping leaves and branches as he shouted, "Belay, matey. Don't be afrightedThrugg's "ere!"

The infant dormouse was trapped in the coils of a fully grown grass snake. Though not poisonous, the creature was trying to squeeze the life from Dumble. Thrugg gripped it by the throat and dealt it a powerful blow with his loaded sling. It was knocked senseless in a trice. Baby Dumble's face had an unhealthy bluish pallor and his cheeks were puffed out as he tried to breathe. Sudden shock had paralyzed him.

The big otter turned the tiny dormouse upside down and dealt him a hefty whack on his bottom. It was a drastic but surefire remedy. Dumble let out a yell that resounded through the woodlands, "Waaaahoooooh!"

A short while later he was seated happily on a fallen tree, eating a candied chestnut from the otter's haversack as he watched Thrugg tying the snake in an intricate knot around a sapling.

"You stringy oF rascal, 'ow dare you try ter choke my liddle matey? Y'can stay there till you learn some manners!"

Dumble chuckled. "Thatsa way, Mista Thugg. Tie d'ser-pink up!"

Thrugg narrowed his eyes severely and squatted in front of Dumble. "Never mind the serpink, matey. What in the name of jib booms are you doin' followin' me?"

"Wanna come wiv you to norf mountings, Mista Thugg."

"Do you now! Well, you lissen ter me, young dormouse. It's back to yer bunk in Redwali Abbey for you. Now come on!"

Dumble burst into floods of tears. "No no, don't wanna go! Dumble get sick an' die wiv feeva. Me fright'ned."

Thrugg shouldered his haversack and stood undecided with the tearful Dumble gazing beseechingly up at him.

"You my matey, Mista Thugg. You not let Dumble get sicked inna Habbey. We find niceflowers together. Yeh?"

Thrugg picked up the infant in one paw and set him atop the haversack. "All right, you liddle rogue. I couldn't think of ye lyin' sick back there. I'm as feared of the fever as you

are. Shove your paw through the straps up there an' get some sleep, then we'll find these Iceflowers t'gether."

Off they went up the path, the big otter having his patience sorely tried by the infant dormouse.

"Good oF Mista Thugg. You're my bes' matey, aren't you?"

"Oh aye. Now you git t' sleep an' stop gabbin'."

"I go t'sleep now. G'night, Mista Thugg."

"Good night!"

"See you inna mornin'."

"Aye, now be quiet!"

"I quiet now. Dumble quiet."