Brian Jacques - Redwall #07 - Mariel of Redwall

Durry was quite amused at the idea. "Heehee!" he snickered aloud. "No no, 'tis only me alone. Now do you stop a leapin' round an' let me get those spikes out. I'll fix 'ee up, never fear."

They waited in painful silence as Durry Quill nipped the spikes out with his teeth. Working smoothly and easily, he made a large wad of dockleaf, wild cloves and rowan berries.

"'Ere, rub this on where you be stickled 'twill ease all pains."

Dandin was surprised and delighted. It worked like a charm. A short space of time and it felt as if he had never encountered a hedgehog spike.

Early evening found them back on the north path, with Durry explaining himself to the other three travelers.

"My ol' nuncle Gabe, 'ee wants me to be a cellar 'og. It's a good job, mind, but a young 'un wants to see summat afore he settles hisself down to a life of cordial, wine an' ales, ho yes. I 'eard all about it 'ee, Miz Mariel, an' I couldn't sleep for thinkin' about it. Durry, I says to myself, Durry, a young 'og would be right honnered to tread the roads wi' such a fearless mousemaid. So I packs me sack, gives you a liddle start there I tells a whopper, I overslep' really. Anywise, I follered 'ee, an' 'ere I be, fit as a flea, fat as a beetle, an' ready fer ought."

They laughed heartily at the honest and earnest hedgehog.

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Dandin pointed up the road. "Look, there's a ford coming up. I can see the sun glinting off the waters. Hope it's not too deep for us to cross."

Quick as a flash a big heron flapped down on the path in front of them. His sticklike legs bent as the long snaking neck curved itself ready for a strike, the fierce circular eyes contracted and dilated angrily, a dangerous pale yellow beak pointed down at them.

"Irrrrrraktaan, this is my waterrrrrrr! Rrrrrrun for yourrrrrr lives. . . . Back! Come near Irrrrrraktaan's waterrrrr and you die! I am Irrrraktaan, mighty kil-lerrrrrr!"

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Graypatch's eye came close to Pakatugg, and the sea-rat's tone was wheedling, almost friendly.

"Now then, matey. You know the lay o' the land 'ereabouts. Don't be afeared of old Graypatch or none of this riffraff aboard the Darkqueen, you just tell me about all the snug little berths an' cosy coves in this neck o' the woods."

Pakatugg felt a little bolder now that the searat Captain had untied his paws and taken the noose from about his neck, but he was quite nervous about the horde of grinning searats who lounged on the deck around him. This one called Graypatch, though, he sounded differentmaybe they could talk reasonably. Feeling naked without his blowpipe and darts, Pakatugg did his best to muster up a commanding tone.

"There's not much at all in this region. You've come to the wrong place. Far north's where you want to be, that's where all you types usually land."

Graypatch bent his head to one side and winked at the squirrel. "Aharr, is that so? What scurvy luck fer us, eh? Still, never you mind, we've landed up here, an' here we'll stay. Now I'll ask you again, messmate, nice an' polite as you please. I want somewhere with

peace an' plenty to settle down. Now where d'you suppose that'd be?"

Pakatugg mistook Graypatch's reassuring manner for weakness, and he decided to take a firm line with this ragamuffin rat and his tawdry bunch. After all, the hares always did it and creatures took notice of them.

"Look, I've told you once, you're wasting your time around here. Up north is much better for vermin like you!"

Still smiling, Graypatch kicked him in the stomach, knocking him to the deck. Looping a rope around Paka-tugg's footpaws, he rasped out an order:

"Haul away, buckos!"

Pakatugg swung upside-down in midair, suspended above the deck as a gang of searats yanked him higher and higher on the rope.

Graypatch shook his head sadly. "Did y'hear that, mates? He called us vermin!"

Pakatugg swallowed hard and closed his eyes as he heard weapons being drawn.

The searat Captain squinted his good eye at the hanging squirrel. "Have ye ever fed the fishes, squirrel?"

"N-No. What d-do you f-feed 'em on?"

A harsh roar of laughter went up from the crew. Graypatch drew his sword.

"What do we feed 'em on? Why, you of course. Those liddle fishes'd be right partial to squirrel carved up into tasty strips."

He slashed at the end of the rope, which was secured to the mast. Pakatugg came down on the deck with a bump. Graypatch drew a curved dagger from his belt. Using his sword blade like a butcher's steel, he rubbed them together, putting a fine edge to the dagger blade. He grabbed the squirrel by the ear and brandished the dagger with a fearsome yell.

"Start from the top and work down to the tailthat's the best way!"

"No, wait! There's an Abbey not far from here.

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They've got it all. Food, shelter, plunderthe lot! Spare me, please!"

Graypatch put up his weapons and aimed a kick at the blubbering squirrel. '"Ere, Ringtail, Dripnose, take 'im below an' put 'im in chains. Don't be too gentle now, and don't feed the slug too well. When I'm ready he'll take us to this Abbey place. Ain't that right, squirrel?"

Pakatugg nodded vigorously, his tears staining the

deck.

oo

Colonel Clary, Brigadier Thyme and Hon Rosie had stopped near the sand dunes to take refreshment and a short rest. Clary was lying back, voicing his thoughts to the other two.

"No trouble so far, wot? Longeyes must have spotted the burnt-out ship a bit further up the coast. We'll patrol further up and camp on the jolly old seashore tonight might even try a shellfish stew, eh, Rosie? Long time since you've cooked one. If we don't catch sight of any bother by tomorrow afternoon late, we'll head back to Salamandastron."

There was a whooshing noise and a trident buried itself in the sand not a paw's-length from Thyme.

"Ears down, chaps! Attack!"

Throwing themselves flat facing three directions, the long patrol started instinctively pushing the sand around them into a barrier. The croaking of countless natterjacks filled the dunes.

"Dig your slings and stones out, too many for lances," Clary called to his companions. "By the left! This is all we need, that villain Oykamon and his slimy mob attackin' us when we're out on a mission. By the right, center and by the cringe, I'll show 'em!"

Hon Rosie slung a flat pebble at a toad charging over the hill. It connected with a splat, knocking the toad out like a light. "Whoohahahahoohah!" she whooped. "That bagged the blighter. I'm pretty fair at slingin'. I'll

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get that big fat rogue, you watch. Whoohahahahoohah! Good shot, Rosie!"

Thyme waggled a paw in his ear between launching off missiles. "Stone me, Rosie. You could scare 'em all off with that pesky laughin' of yours."

"Whoohahahaoohah! You are a card, Thyme, no mistake. Watch that feller to your left! Oh, never mind, I'll lay him out. Howzat, middle an' stump!"

Clary got two toads with one of his special bouncing shots. "Corks! I say, there must be squillions of the reptiles. We're goin' to run out of stones before they run out of soldiers, I suspect."

Thyme banged the heads of two venturesome toads who had climbed the barricade, and they both fell back senseless.

"One thing you can say about big chief Oykamon he keeps his word. He said he'd be back with a full complement. We're on a sticky wicket, Clary old lad. Any ideas?"

Colonel Clary glanced up at the sky before launching off another stone. "Funny you should say that, Thyme. Matter of fact, I've come up with a pretty good wheeze, actually. It'll soon be evenin'. Now the minute it starts gettin' darkish, keep your eyes peeled for a sight of the old arch baddie himself, Oykamon. Rosie, you're the best shotchoose yourself a jolly good big pebble. I want him knocked out cold. That'll upset the lads of the sandhills, and they'll prob'ly crowd round to see if he's dead. Then we'll make a run for it, go straight for the sea, just about paw-deep, and keep goin' north. Toads aren't too fussy on salt water, so they'll give up following us if we sprint fast enough. How's your throwin' paw, Rosie old gel?"