Brian Jacques - Redwall #07 - Mariel of Redwall

The crew marched off through the woodlands, laughing and jostling each other, happy to be going back to the life they knew aboard the best craft of all Gabool's fleet, the good ship Darkqueen.

One searat remained, however. Fishgill the steersrat strode across to Graypatch and sat beside him.

"Let 'em go, Cap'n. They'll either end up in Gabool's clutches or come back to you after gettin' sick of that bigmouth Bigfang. He's a fool an' a hotheadhe'll either get himself or the crew killed."

Graypatch breathed a sigh of relief. "Fishgill, matey, I knew you wouldn't let me down. Stay with me now. This eye'll be better in a day or two, then we'll see

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who's the real Cap'n of Darkqueen, and the best steersrat

too."

oo

Clary and the long patrol had become alerted when they found Pakatugg's secret den empty. Using their considerable skills as trackers, they had trailed the squirrel across the dunes. The hares found the river crossing the beach at midmorning. Checking the aftermath of the battle with Greenfang's crew, they traced the river course inland.

At midday they sighted the Darkqueen tied up alongside the tree-fringed creek.

"Whoohahahahooh!" Hon Rosie whooped with delight. "Who's for a trip aboard the Ski/lark?"

Brigadier Thyme jumped aboard. "Deserted, eh. Where d'you s'pose the scurvy blaggards are now, Clary?"

"Haven't the foggiest, old fellah. Still an' all, I'll tell you where they won't be goin': to sea in this bally tub again. We'll make sure of that. Come on, chaps!"

In a short time the rudder was detached and hidden in the woods, the oars were weighted and sunk in the creek, the steering wheel was dismantled and flung widespread into the bushes, and the mooring ropes were hacked through so that Darkqueen drifted in and heeled at a crazy angle in the shallows. They jettisoned the worst of the provisions and made a leisurely meal off the choicest bits of the remainder.

Clary found some of the bows and arrows in the weapon locker. "Righto, chaps, settle down now. You take first watch, Rosie. Shout out at the first sign of a scurvy whisker and we'll give 'em billyo."

"Oh, I say, super! I'm rather good at the old archery game, y'know, I could score a bull's-eye on a rat's eye with no bother. Whoohahahahoo!"

Clary nibbled a ship's biscuit until a weevil poked its head out at him, he spat out quickly and tossed the offending morsel overboard.

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"Phwaw! I think I'd turn to a life of crime if I had to eat tucker like that. No wonder they look mean an' ugly!"

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2O

The mist was heavy in the forest as Mariel and her friends struck westward into the strange new territory. Durry Quill kept repeating the lines of the poem aloud.

"Find the trail and lose your life. When in the woods this promise keep, with senses sharp and open eyes, 'My nose shall not send me to sleep.' "

"Your nose doesn't have to, your bally voice would send anybeast to sleep, Durry," Tarquin snorted. "Didn't they teach you singin' at Redwall?"

"Floppyears, I weren't singin', I were recititatin'. So there."

"Can't you two stop arguing and keep quiet?"

"Oops! Sorry, old gel, m'lips are sealed from now on, promise."

Dandin had to hack away at hanging vegetation and thick fern to keep the path clear. He did not like this forest at all. It was dank and steamy, with little sunlight showing through the matted treetops, the ground was squelchy underpaw and the going slow.

The travelers were not inclined to stop in the gloomy atmosphere. They snatched bites of food as they pressed onward, each with their separate thoughts.

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Dandin thought of Redwall and Mother Mellus, the good badger who had reared him: Despite her scolding and reprimands, he missed her. He wondered how Saxtus was faring, now that he was the only one of the terrible duo left for Mellus to watch over.

Durry thought of his uncle Gabriel, his friends Bagg and Runn and the moles whom he felt a great kinship to. He imagined summer afternoons in the orchard with cool cider and cakes beneath the shady trees.

Mariel thought of her father, wondering where he could be and how his health was. She remembered the quiet strength of her father the bellmaker, his ready smile and gentleness, the care he had taken of her and the pride he took in his little daughter, whose name he likened to a bell ringing over meadows on a summer evening. She blinked away a silent tear and gritted her teeth as she thought of cruel Gabool and the retribution she would mete out one day when she faced him.

Tarquin thought of sitting alongside Hon Rosie at the annual haredance and banquet in Salamandastron. Rosie always treated him mockingly, but that was just her way. Secretly he imagined she longed for him. The words of a new song came bubbling out of the irrepressible hare.

"If I were a cake upon the table,

You would take a bite from me

and I would shout if I were able,

Rosie, you're a sight to see.

Dolly ting bang clang, diddly ding ..."

"Mr. Woodsorrel, I've told you once politely, now clamp a lid on it!"

"What? Oh, er, right you are, m'lady. It's just that lovely smell, reminds me of Rosie's perfume that she wore to the banquet."

Durry Quill sniffed. "My spikes, so that's what perfume smells like. A lad like me never smelt it afore. Whaaaawwwhhooommmm! 'Scuse I."

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Mariel was about to silence Durry when she yawned aloud also.

Dandin stopped swinging his sword into the tangled creepers. He leaned against a willow and yawned aloud, rubbing his eyes. "Hoooommmmm! Funny sort of smell, not like I'd imagined perfume to be. Bit sickly sweet, if you ask me ..."

Tarquin sat down on the trail. His harolina slipped from his paws and he blinked owlishly. "Hooooooah! Take m' word for it, laddie, that's what perfume smells like. Whoooohaaaw! Corks . . . can't keep . . . the ol' eyes oooooooh . . . pen."

Mariel lay down slowly, clutching the Gullwhacker to her like a baby mouse going to bed with her dolly. Through half-closed eyes she watched shadowy figures rising from the earth around them. The last thing she heard before sleep rode in on the cloying waves of heavy scent was Durry Quill's voice.

"My nose shall noWhooooaw!"

oo

Mariel's head ached furiously and a dark mist swam before her eyes, changing to brown then dull green. She caught a whiff of the fetid scent as a face swathed in barkcloth came close to hers.

"Heehee, dis'n wak'nin' up, athink!"

"Dese'n's near wak'n too abit."

"Eer's Snidjer, lookitout!"

The realization that she was bound to a tree woke Mariel completely. She tugged and strained at her bonds as a creature hobbled toward her. It was covered in trailing weeds and wore a barkcloth wrapper around its face, as did many others she could see crouching in the background. The creature carried with it the whiff of heavy scent. It stood in front of the mousemaid and spoke in a high, squeaky voice.

"Yerrherr, Snidjer gotcheranyerr fren's!"

Tarquin had awakened. They were all tied tightly to

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the same big tree. "Oh, great golly, rrt'poor head, it's burstin'. Who the devil are you, sir?"

The creature prodded Tarquin with a long thorny branch. ' 'You sh' rupp. Snidj er' s talkin' nochoo. Ennyow, werryerfrom?"

Dandin was awake. He lay with his eyes closed as he interpreted. "I think his name is Snidjer and he wants to know where we're from."

Snidjer giggled. "Heehee, smarteemouse dis'na smarteemouse!"

Durry was last to wake. He strained forward, trying to reach his head with bound paws. "Gwaw! My poor skull. This shouldn't happen to a good young lad like me. I think it was that scent which knocked us out. Oh, nunky, help! Send those 'orrible beasts away!"

Snidjer and his tribe giggled as they danced around the tree in front of their victims. Dandin watched them closely, trying to figure out what sort of creatures they were under the barkcloth facewraps and body hangings of thick weed.