Brian Jacques - Redwall #07 - Mariel of Redwall

Rufe Brush looked up from a plate of hazelnut cream and apple pie.

"Not on a night like this you won't, Simeon. Listen to that rainstorm. Any creature out on a night like this must be drowned by now."

Simeon was about to answer when he suddenly turned his face aside and clasped a table napkin to his nose.

"Whaaaw! Somebeast's eating wild garlic!"

A fat mole named Burgo several places down with a clothespin fitted snugly upon his nose was tucking into a big basin with a spoon. He waved a paw at Simeon.

"Burr, nor c'n oi stan' the smell o' garleck. Oi do dearly luvs the taste of it tho'. 'At's whoi oi keeps moi snowt pegged! Garleck woild soup! Nuthin' loik et, zurr."

Amid the laughter that followed, Dandin turned to Rufe Brush.

"By the fur, Rufe, that rain sounds as if it were trying to knock our Abbey down. You were right, anybeast out in this must be well drowned by now!"

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Fort Bladegirt stood at the edge of the high rocks which towered above Terramort cove, the big window of its banqueting hall facing out to sea. It had a courtyard and a high wall which ran around its perimeter where the ground was open, though part of the actual fort building integrated with the outer wall where it overhung the cove. The entire structure was built from solid rock with heavy wooden doors at the entrances both to the fort and courtyard. On three sides it was overlooked by hills. Gabool the Wild had taken it as his by right; indeed whoever owned Bladegirt was absolute King of Searats, as long as he could hold it. Inside the fort chaos and misrule were the order of the day. Corsair rats left their ships to come ashore after long plundering voyages. They made their way to Bladegirt in droves, leaving their ships at anchor in the cove. Roistering, fighting, gambling and drinking, the searats enjoyed their shore leave after the hardships of a life at sea.

In the high banqueting chamber Gabool sprawled on a carved rock throne, which he had made more comfortable by covering it with the skins of his slain enemies. He stared with loving fascination at a great bell dominating the center of the floor; monumental in its size the prize stood, reflecting the torchlights and

revelry through its burnished sheen. Copper, silver, brass and gold had been used in its casting. Heaving himself up, Gabool strode forward, sword in one claw, a chalice of wine in the other as he traversed the perimeter of his greatest prize. Grinning like a child with a new toy, he tapped his swordblade against the marvel-ous bell; the soft musical note vibrated gently like a giant harp strummed by the wind. As he walked, Gabool's restless eyes roved up and down, from the strange figures embossed around the top to the intricate words ranging around the wide base of the great bell.

Gabool was puzzled as to their meaning, but they were pretty decorations which made his prize all the more fascinating to look upon.

"Blood 'n' thunder, Cap'n. Give it a good belt an' let's hear it ring out!" A burly drunken searat named Halfnose pulled a wooden cudgel from his belt and thrust it toward Gabool. With lightning speed the Warlord grabbed the club and crashed it down on Half-nose's skull, at the same time landing a thrusting kick into the drunkard's belly, which sent him reeling into an open cask of wine. Halfnose slumped across the wine, his head submerged. Gabool roared with laughter.

"Drink or drown, seascum. Nobeast comes near Gabool's bell!"

The carousing searats shrieked their appreciation at his joke. Gabool pointed at Halfnose with his sword.

"If he ever gets out o' there, give him a cup of wine t' revive him."

This caused further merriment, except from the table where Bludrigg, Captain of the ship Greenfang, sat with his mates. Though Gabool laughed as heartily as the others, Bludrigg had not escaped his notice. Everyone was laughing, but not BludriggBludrigg the surly, Bludrigg the argumentative, Bludrigg the trouble-causer, the seadeck lawyer. Gabool watched him

closely. Bludrigg, who could sense the scheming mind behind his King's false merriment.

Things between the King of Searats and his Captain had been building to a head for a long time; Gabool decided to settle accounts with Bludrigg now. Gulping wine from the chalice and allowing it to spill freely into his beard, Gabool pretended to stagger drunkenly. He winked in a friendly manner and thrust his. sword point down into a chest of booty. Tottering over to the table, Gabool banged the half-empty chalice down in front of the Greenfang's Captain.

"Bludrigg, me old matey, c'mon, drink up!"

Bludrigg' s face was sullen as he thrust the chalice aside.

"Don't want no wine. I can drink all I want aboard me ship."

All around the hall they stopped drinking, singing and gambling; an air of expectancy settled over the searats. Gabool blinked, as if trying to shake off the effects of the wine, and swayed slightly.

"Food then. Can't have my Captain starvin'. Roast meat, fruit, fish, sugared preserves? Here, bring m' friend Bludrigg some vittles."

Bludrigg's swordclaw fondled the hilt of his sheathed scimitar.

"Leave the food, Gabool. I eat well enough."

Gabool sighed, shaking his head as if in puzzlement. He sat next to Bludrigg and threw a comradely claw about his shoulders.

"Hmmm, no wine, no food, no smile on me old shipmate's face. What d'you want then, bucko?"

Bludrigg shook Gabool's claw off. He stood upright, knocking the chair over behind him, his eyes blazing with suppressed rage at the drunken Warlord.

"I want my share of the plunder. There's been none from the last three sailings. I'm tellin' you, Gabool, I want my portion of the booty an' I'll have it tonight, come hell or high water!"

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From around the packed hall there were murmurs of agreement. Gabool spread his arms wide and smiled.

"Blow me down! Is that all? Why didn't you say so sooner?"

Bludrigg was lost for words; the expected clash had not come. Now he felt slightly foolish in front of his crew. He shrugged, mumbling halfheartedly; he tried excusing himself as if he were complaining on behalf of his searats.

"Well, I never thought. . . . It's just that my crew were startin' to complain, they thought you'd forgotten us ..."

Gabool looked injured. He went over to the chest of booty, where his sword stood upright amid a heap of armlets, goblets, baubles and shiny stones. Drawing forth the sword, he turned one or two items over with its point until he found what he sought. Gabool flicked the sword up as a shiny gold coronet studded with gems slid along its blade.

"Aharr, friend Bludrigg, the best for you. A crown fit for a King!"

Bludrigg felt a sudden rush of confidence; he had done it! Gabool was notoriously mean with plunder, but he, Bludrigg, Captain of the Greenfang, had actually got the better of Gabool. The King of Searats had backed down before him. Bludrigg's chest swelled as he accepted the beautiful coronet from Gabool's sword-blade and placed it on his head. A cheer rose from the company as Gabool spread his arms wide. Extending the sword away from Bludrigg, he addressed them.

"See, yer scurvy wave-riders. Pay attention, you jetsam of the oceans, I am Gabool the Wild, this is how I repay me friends. ..." Without warning Gabool swung a powerfully savage blow with his sword. "And reward my enemies!"

Even the hardened searats moaned in horror as the head of Bludrigg thudded to the floor. The coronet

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rolled in front of Gabool. He picked it up on the dripping sword blade and held it forth to the assembly. "Would anyone else like to wear the crown, mateys?"

oo

Heralded by the call of seabirds, eastern sunrays flooded warm and golden into a sky of calm blue reflected in the millpond sea below. The angry storm had passed, leaving summer serenity in its wake. The sun warmed the wet bundle on the flotsam-strewn tide-line until it stirred. Seawater and bile flooded from the mousemaid's mouth as she coughed feebly. The damp paw set tiny flies buzzing as it reached for her throat and began weakly grappling with the knotted rope. The wooden spar lay across her back. A seabird landed upon it; the added weight caused the mousemaid to vomit more salt water forth with a gurgling groan. Startled, the bird rose noisily into the air, cheated of the carcass it had taken for dead. Other seabirds began to wheel and circle overhead. A tiny crab tried nibbling at the maid's rough wet burlap dress, gave up and scuttled away.