Brian Jacques - Redwall #09 - Salamandastron

"Oh, what did we start ta.lkin' about scoff for?" Lingfur nibbled the soft wooden stalk that his apple had hung from the tree on. "It only makes you even worse hungry than you are now!"

Suddenly a battered and sandswept figure hauled itself

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wearily over the crater top. It was none other than Big Oxeye, alive and well.

"Cheer up, young Ling. I never knew when you weren't bally well hungry, wot?" His familiar chuckle boomed out around the mountaintop. "Have some pears. They're a bit hard, but I don't suppose a young feedbag like you would care."

The three young hares gave a yell of horror at the ghastly apparition and fled down the crater steps as if a demon were chasing them.

Big Oxeye dropped the two woven reedbags he was carrying and looked down at his sand-crusted body. "Hmph! Suppose if I clapped eyes on me right now I'd be frightened out o' me wits!"

They gathered around the table in the dining hall as Oxeye related his marvelous escape.

"Hoho, you should've seen old Sap, floatin' off t' sea like he was born on the briny with not a care in the world. Next thing, here comes a bunch of those vermin yahoos, right nasty lot I can tell you. So I ups spear an' slays one or three, just t' let 'em know I mean business, doncha know. Blow me, there must've been more than a bally regiment of the stinkers. They stabbed an' whacked at me with cutlasses an' whatnot. As for me, did m' best to give a beastlike account of a Long Patrol scrapper, an' then I tripped and went under the water. D'you know, I could never swim until that moment, as true as I'm here, I tell you, chaps. I went under an' right off started swimmin' like a bloomin' fish underwater. Just kept goin', wot! On an' on I swam until I ran out of jolly old fresh air, so I came up an' there they were, far away, all arguin' an1 hackin' at each other like billyoh. So I took a good deep breath, dived an' swam some moremust've done that a dozen times until I got clear away from Ferahgo's lot. From there it was quite simple really, I just rolled meself in the dry sand to give me a coat of camouflage and hoofed it back here. Oh, I stopped off an' gathered a few supplies on the way backthought you chaps might be gettin' a bit peckish. I say,

where's His Nibs old Urthstripe?"

Bart Thistledown pointed a paw upward. "Probably in the forge room beatin' some poor chunk of metal to a powder. He's got one of his rages boilin' up. You'd best go an' report that you're alive, Ox."

Oxeye popped his head round the doorway of the forge room and called out in a loud voice, "Big Oxeye, sah! Reportin' for duty, sah! All present an' correct an' quite alive, contrary to popular rumor, sah!"

The forge was cold and the room deserted. Oxeye wandered about until he noticed one of the window apertures had been unblocked. The big hare sighed with despair at the sight that greeted his eyes as he looked out of the window.

Fully clad in badger war armor, Urthstripe was pounding over the shore towards Ferahgo's encampment. Brandishing his giant battle spear aloft, the badger Lord of Salamandastron hurled out his challenge to the foe:

"Come and meet me, Ferahgoyou and your brat together. I will fight you in paw-to-paw combat or any way you choose! It ends here today, weasel. Come and meet death! I am Urthstripe the Strong, born in the dark of the moon! Lord of the mountain! Slayer of vermin! Eulaliaaaaaaa!"

Migroo had died beneath the spear of Big Oxeye, so the other prisoner guard, Feadle, was held responsible for the escape of the two captives. His lifeless body hung, bound to a stake, in front of the entire horde. Ferahgo put away his killing knife and took out his skinning knife as Urthstripe's roars reached his ears across the beach. Ignoring the weasel he had just slain, he sheathed the knife and issued hasty instructions.

"Crabeyes, station archers in the rocks around where we fight. Badtooth, get forty spearbeasts and be ready to strike whenever you see the badger's back. Klitch, come with me and do as I say!"

Klitch was in a foul mood. He had been responsible for the victories they had won so far, but because of his youth the army was more inclined to obey Ferahgo. Accordingly his

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father had swiftly assumed position as Master of the horde. Klitch sat sullenly on a rock, curling his lip at Ferahgo.

"Huh, another of your cockeyed plans. It'll end in disaster like all the others, you'll see."

The Assassin dragged his son bodily from the rock and shook him. "Young fool, you don't know everything. I'm going to set up an ambush for the badger. Just watch me and do as I tell you. This will work. I killed the badger Lord of all the Southwest Lands and his wife the same way, seasons before you were ever born. Now get yourself a weapon and follow me!"

As the word spread around Salamandastron, windows and openings were unblocked. The hares crowded to the viewpoints, watching in dismay.

Big Oxeye had assumed command in Urthstripe's absence, and his word was law. "Lord Urthstripe is out to settle this himself. He's challenged the two weasels to double combat. When they meet we must stay here out of itthis is between Urthstripe and the two weasels, a Duel of Chieftains. Not even the vermin of the horde are allowed to interfere in a battle of honor, so stay at your posts and watch. That's an order!"

Down at the tideline, Ferahgo and Klitch stood in a smooth sea-washed area of sand, a semicircle of rocks at their backs. Urthstripe faced them. Raising the visor of his warhelm, he tried hard not to laugh aloud with joy. This was what he wanted, the moment he had been waiting for. Ferahgo had armed himself with a mace and chain in addition to his knives. Klitch wore a short sword and carried a pike. Urthstripe leaned on the haft of his great battle spear; it was half as tall as he himself was, forbiddingly heavy and thick with a leaf-shaped blade and barbed crosstrees jutting out.

The badger nodded at them. "Let us get things straight before we settle this. If you win then the mountain is yours, but you must let my hares leave unharmed. If I win, your army turns around and marches off back to wherever you came from. Agreed?"

Ferahgo pawed the golden medal on his chest and replied levelly, "As Master of the horde, I agree. So does my son."

Klitch swaggered about, jabbing the air with his spear as Urthstripe continued, "Nobeast must interferethis is a Duel of Chieftains and must be fought under the rules of honor. Agreed?"

"Agreed!" Ferahgo's blue eyes shone with fervor and sincerity.

Urthstripe lowered his helm as he spoke the final words.

"No quarter, no surrender. To the death!"

Under the midafternoon sun the three combatants closed in on each other.

Under that same sun the creatures of Redwall took their ease. Young ones played and tumbled on the lawn while the elders rested in the cool shades of the orchard. The Wild King MacPhearsome perched on a beech stump, sound asleep in the summer heat that he seldom felt among his icy crags and mountain wilderness.

Friar Bellows nodded with admiration. "Very good, very good. What a magnificent giant of a bird. I'm glad he's sleeping, because while he is he's not eating!"

Tudd Spinney leaned on his stick and chuckled. "Oh, he's got a rare appetite, that one, but I'm a thinkin' that he's entitled to it. We'd all be dead as doornails but for yonder bird. What d'you say, HoIIyberry?"

The old Infirmary Keeper had been half dozing off. He shook himself and looked around, blinking. "Oh, er, what? Indeed, whatever you say, Mr. Spinney. I was just wondering whatever became of young Samkim and Arula. I was very fond of those two little rogues, y'know."

Abbess Vale sniffed, brushing away a tear with her habit sleeve. "Oh dear, it seems ages ago since they both sat out here at our Nameday feast. I do hope they are safe. Samkim was a bright-eyed little fellow and Arula was a dear funny mole."