Brian Jacques - Redwall #07 - Mariel of Redwall

Mellus relaxed, settling her head back against the moss-covered limb. A big bumblebee droned lazily past on its quest for nectar, in the distance a songthrush warbled blithely its hymn to the coming summer day, somewhere close by a grasshopper that had strayed from the flatlands chirruped idly. The warmth of the rising sun beat steadily down upon the two weary

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friends. As sleep stole up and took their tired senses unawares, the longbows slipped from their paws, and their eyes drooped shut.

oo

A small spider was starting to weave her web from the tip of a longbow to Flagg's nose. He twitched his snout, flicking at it drowsily with his paw as the voices intruded upon his dream.

"Somewheres around this way she was. I swear I saw 'er, matey!"

"Well, stow yer gab an' keep that spear ready. Y' can't take no chances with this scurvy rabbit. I could swear we've killed 'er three times a'ready. Tread easy nowis that 'er?"

"Where?"

"Layin' among those fern things, goggle eyes. Look, can't y'see?"

Flagg came awake, collecting his senses as he listened to the searats.

"Take no chances this time, mate. Sneak up, an' both of us in fast with the spears, hard as y'can, ten times apiece. See she doesn't jump away agin."

"Aye, did ye ever see anythin' like that leap she made out of the camp? Right over Graypatch's 'ead, an' 'er all cut t' pieces too!"

The urgency of the situation hit Flagg like a thunderbolt. Sitting up silently, he placed a paw across Mellus's mouth and shook her awake. The badger saw something in Flagg's eyes that made her go completely still. He gestured forward with his paw, whispering one word. "Searats!"

Stealthily the two friends stood up, fitting arrows to their longbows.

The two searats were standing some distance away, their backs to the hunters as they sneaked in upon a bed of fern, spears raised, ready for the kill. Flagg and Mellus drew back the shafts upon their bowstrings to

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full stretch. The otter nodded to Mellus, and she called out in a loud gruff voice, "Ahoy there!"

The two searats turned in the direction of her voice as the arrows left the longbows with a vicious twin hiss. Both rats fell instantaneously, the sharp oak shafts standing out of their necks a half-length.

Regardless of nettle and bush, the otter and the badger crashed through the woodland into the bed of ferns. They stood aghast at the wounded, scarred, bloodstained form of Hon Rosie lying on the ground. She pulled herself up onto one paw, smiling crookedly through her ripped and battered face.

"H-hello, you ch-chaps. 'Fraid they've k-killed me . . . Wot . . . !" Collapsing back, the brave hare lay stretched among the ferns.

Mellus was down beside her, ripping up her garments, bandaging, wiping blood from Rosie's face and massaging her paws as she instructed Flagg. "Have you got a knife?"

"Yes, marmone of Friar Alder's best. Is she dead?" "No, not quite. There's a chance. Cut some poles-no, wait, use the longbows. Chop some vines, anything. We'll use our belts . . . Got to make a stretcher. Here!" She ripped off her belt and threw it to Flagg. The helpful otter took off his own. "Gotcha, marm. Leave it t' me!" He set about his task swiftly, glancing urgently back to where Mellus was busy with Rosie among the ferns. "You can't die, d'you hear me, Rosie? Wake up! If you die, I'll kill you! Oh, I'm sorry dear. Live! Live for Clary and Thyme. Live!"

oo

Rufe Brush and Oak Tom headed the party that had set out from Redwall at dawn. They were all heavily armed and determined to help Mellus and Flagg against the searats. Cutting off the path, they entered the woodlands. Tom and Treerose swung off into the foli-

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age to scout ahead. Gabe Quill brandished a big bung mallet angrily.

"I'll searat 'em, the filthy vermints!"

Rufe turned to him. "Keep your voice down, Gabe . . . Owch! Watch where you're pokin' that lance, Burgo. Pooh! Are you chewin' wild garlic again?"

"Burr, aye, zurr. Found some o' the pesky stuff o'er yonder. Oi carnt aboid the smell tho' I dearly do luv ets taste. 'Pologies 'bout 'ee larnce, zurr."

"Chuck ee larnce aways," Foremole whispered in Burgo's ear. "You'm cudd slay emenies with thoi breath!"

"Over here, straight ahead," Oak Tom called out from a high hornbeam. "It's Mellus an' Flagg bearin' a stretcher."

The Redwallers flocked around Rosie, gabbling questions at her rescuers.

"Is she dead?"

"Coo deary, she'm bad cuttup!"

"Where did you find her, Flagg?"

"Any sign o' Clary or Thyme?"

"D'you think she'll live?"

Mellus silenced them with a growl. "Stop all this silly chattering. We must get this hare to Redwall as speedily as possible. You squirrels, will you get back to the Abbey as quickly as you can. Tell Sister Serena, Simeon, the Abbot and Sister Sage to have all their medicines ready and a room in sickbay cleared out. Right, off you go!"

The three squirrels went off through the top terraces of the woodlands like greased lightning. Ready pawys gripped the stretcher, steadying Rosie as the group broke into a fast trot.

oo

Graypatch limped badly from an arrow that had pierced his leg. He gazed around at the smashed cage, the smoldering embers of last night's fires and the carcasses of dead searats that littered the ground like fallen

leaves. They were piled in a heap in the middle of the camp. He prodded the lifeless forms with his sword. Somewhere beneath that heap lay two hares and a squirrel. The searat Captain shook his head and slumped down upon a rock.

"Three hares and a squirrel did all this?" he murmured disbelievingly.

Deadglim shambled over. He leaned on a broken spear, nursing the place where his left ear had been. "Eighteen left alive, Cap'n. Well, it would be a score, but two went after the hare that got away."

Graypatch massaged his leg, wincing. "Eighteen, is that all!"

"Aye, Cap'n. What's yer orders?"

Graypatch stared into the surrounding forest. He had come to hate Mossflower country; the whole thing had been a catalogue of disaster since they arrived. He had stolen the Darkqueen and set sail from Terramort with a crew of a hundred able-bodied searats, and now he was sitting in this landlocked hell of greenery with only eighteen left.

"Tell the crew to pack up, lock, stock 'n' barrel. We're pullin' out o' this stinkin' place. I'm goin' to find the Darkqueen, get 'er seaworthy an' sail out to the open sea, where we can breathe again!"

A slow smile formed upon Deadglim's coarse face. "Aye-aye, Cap'n Graypatch. I'll do that with pleasure,

sir!

Treerose paced the corridor outside the sickbay.

Abbot Bernard came out with a basin and a stained towel. "Ah, Treerose. See if you can get some clean warm water and a fresh towel for me, pretty one."

Treerose's voice betrayed great anxiety. "How is Rosie, Father?"

The Abbot wiped his paws on his wide sleeves, a smile creasing his kindly face. "D'you know, I didn't believe it at first, but she's going to be all right. Thanks

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to your warning, the creatures who got her here so fast, and the marvelous skills of Simeon and Sister Sage. Yes, Treerose, she's going to be around for quite a number of seasons yet to come. So you stop that crying now and get me fresh water and a clean towel."

Mother Mellus came out to stand in the corridor with the Abbot. "What was all that about, Father?"

"Oh, nothing really. It just surprises me how overnight that young squirrel has changed from a spoilt brat into a really nice helpful creature."

Mellus patted the Abbot's frail back. "Hmm, then we must be doing something right, the way we bring our young ones up at Redwall, eh!"

The Abbot bowed gallantly. "The way you bring them up, Mellus."

Saxtus lay on his back in the strawberry patch with the Dibbuns. Bagg and Runn chattered incessantly as they decimated the latest crop of ripe fruit.