Triss. Part 10

I've got two paws like iron claws, Granite teeth an' steely jaws, I chopped me ole grandma up fer stew, An' I'll do the same fer you!"

Both elders and Dibbuns hissed and booed him heartily. Crikulus rendered the grandmother's part in a quaky squeak.

"I'm a little grannie mouse, frisky as a flea, An' I say what ho, this is my motto, No bullies dare mess with me!

'Cos though I'm old, I'm feisty an' bold, I've got twenty-two grandmice too, I can spank the tail off any of 'em, An' I'll do the same for you!"

Applause and cheers rose from the onlookers, with many Dibbuns calling out. "Spank the naughty rat, grannie!" Malbun rolled her eye and waved the floppy sword.

"Hoho, liddle grannie mouse, scurry off to yore 'ouse, Whilst I'm still in a good mood, I eats a grannie fer brekkist each morn, 'Cos grannies are my fav'rite food!

I'll chop off yore tail an' whiskers, I'll whack off yore nose an' each ear, Then you'll be the lunch on which I munch, Wot think ye of that, me old dear?"

The booing and hissing of the audience rose to fever pitch. Crikulus winked broadly at the Dibbuns to make them ready, then he began haranguing Malbun.

"Hah, just try an' eat me, an' you'll soon see Us grannies are tough ole things.

I'll climb in your mouth an' pull your teeth out, Then use your tonsils for swings!

But why should I bother to dirty my paws, On a sloppy great bully like you?

Here come all my grandmice, ahoy there, Show this searat a thing or two!"

This was the part the Dibbuns enjoyed most. Grabbing their slapsticks, they bounded out and began chasing Malbun, spanking away at her rear, which was heavily cushioned. Whooping and roaring, Malbun the searat fled the scene.

Crikulus whipped off his grannie bonnet and did a flourishing curtsy as the Redwallers applauded heartily Skipper and his two otters chased after the Dibbuns, preventing them from spanking the villain further. Malbun came back and took her bow to loud cheers.

The Abbot wiped tears of laughter from his cheeks and congratulated them. "Thank you, my friends, heeheehee. I don't know how many times I've seen your performance, but it gets funnier every season. Heeheehee, splendidly done!"

Malbun grinned ruefully, rubbing at her rear. "Dearie me, those Dibbuns can really whack. I'll have to get extra cushions in the future. Whew, I'm tired. How about you, Grannie Crikulus?"

The ancient Gatekeeper mopped at his face with the bonnet. "Ain't as young as I once was, friend, I think we'll take an early night in my gatehouse. You take the big armchair, I'll take the bed. Goodnight to you, Father Abbot, goodnight all. Thank ye for a wonderful evening."

With the good wishes of everybeast ringing in their ears, the two old friends left the orchard and the continuing revelry of a happy Summer's Day Feast.

Shortly thereafter, Malbun and Crikulus, cloaked and carrying a lantern apiece, left the Abbey and trudged off up the path. On entering Mossflower Wood, they immediately became aware of one thing: the silence. Not a breeze stirred the still-warm air. The sound of night birdsong was completely absent.

Crikulus kept his voice to a subdued whisper as he remarked upon this to his companion. "Strange, isn't it? Not a breeze or a peep of anything about,"

Malbun tried to make light of her friend's concern. "All the better for us, mate. I was dreading that any moment we'd hear the cawing of those rascally crows, but all seems nice and peaceful. That's a bit of luck, eh?"

Crikulus nodded wordlessly as they plowed on through the shrouded woodlands. He felt as if the atmosphere was not at all nice and peaceful. A misty haze had woven a milky carpet around the trees. It was almost waist high, formed by the day's heat turning the earthdamp into vapour. The ancient shrew decided that everything seemed rather sinister.

Malbun trod on a twig. Its sharp cracking sound made Crikulus twitch nervously. "What was that?"

Malbun tried to tread more carefully to rea.s.sure him. "Only a twig I stepped on. There's nothing t'be afraid of."

Following the path they had travelled along previously with the Brockhall search party, they pressed onward into the woodlands, their lanterns held high, twinkling in the night like two fireflies. Now Malbun began to feel uneasy. She could not say for certain the cause of it, but a sense of foreboding hung over her. Crikulus was right.i.t was too quiet. Normally the woodland was alive with nocturnal sounds: owls, nightingales, insects, a healthy breeze rustling the tree canopy.

Just to rea.s.sure herself, the Healer Recorder spoke to Crikulus. "We are on the right path, aren't we?"

The old shrew turned, his lantern light illuminating Malbun's face. She looked as scared as he himself felt. "Aye, this is the path sure enough. Look, there's where we stopped to have lunch and the crows attacked us."

Malbun found herself wishing that she could hear the caw of a crow, anything to break the oppressive silence. Fear and fatigue were beginning to overcome both creatures. Crikulus pushed through the undergrowth to the tiny clearing and leaned his back against a tree.

"Let's stop awhile for a breather here. My footpaws have gone all sort of wobbly an' shaky."

Malbun hung her lantern on a branch. Not wanting to sit down in the mist, she stood alongside Crikulus. "Well, where do you think Brockhall is? I know we're somewhere in the area."

The shrew shrugged at her whispered enquiry. "Could be anywhere in a wide circle from here. 1 haven't a clue. I wish those Dibbuns could've remembered the way."

Slits of moonlight penetrated the trees, slivers of pale silver against the gloomy night. They stood wordless, each wishing they were back in the comfort of Redwall's gatehouse. Though it was not cold, their dew-laden cloaks felt clammy clinging against them. Malbun removed hers first, with Crikulus following suit. A sound came from the gra.s.s nearby. Crikulus whipped his head round in its direction.

"What was that?"

It was not an actual noise, more of a slight wet swish. The ancient shrew thought he saw some ferns tremble in a moonlit shaft. Then another sound was heard, from the opposite direction of the first one. Malbun held up her lantern, paws atremble as she peered into the blackness. Her voice took on a strained, panicky edge.

"Th-there's another sound, like somethin' moving through the gra.s.s towards us!"

Then they smelt the odour, musty and bittersweet. It grew stronger. The gra.s.s swished in both directions, then it swished behind them, getting closer. Crikulus's voice was tight with terror. He swallowed hard.

"That sound ... th-the smell. . . We're being hunted by somebeast we c-c-can't see!"

Malbun felt every hair on her body standing up. The sounds and the vile, powerful smell were almost upon them. Her voice was little more than a petrified squeak. "There's m-more than one of th-th-them. Yaaaaaaah!"

Dropping lanterns and cloaks from nerveless paws, the two ran headlong into the pitch-black woodlands, away from whatever was seeking them as prey. Blundering, b.u.mbling, tripping, stumbling. Crashing through ferns and nettlebeds, stubbing footpaws on roots, they raced. Mists swirled about them, their habits ripping and tearing on tree branches that seemed to be grabbing at them as they pa.s.sed. They plunged onward, heedless of any direction save that in which the unknown peril lurked. They splashed through a small stream and raced through a bog, so fast that they hardly sank enough to impede their wild charge.

Crikulus grabbed the cord girdle on his friend's habit as they fled across a clearing and into a pine grove. Overcome by fright, Malbun turned her head to see what was holding on to her. Still running, she slammed side-on into the trunk of a thick fir. There was a sudden stab of pain as a broken branch stub pierced her cheek. Then she fell down senseless. The ancient shrew collapsed by her side, his hoa.r.s.e rasping breathsounds mingling with those of his companion. He scrabbled around in the dark with the clean scent of pine needles banishing the musty odour from his nostrils. His paw struck Malbun's face. He felt the broken branch splinter sticking from it and the sticky wetness, which he knew to be blood, upon his paw. "Mai-bun, are you all right? You're not hurt, are you? Speak to me! Say something, Malbun, oh please, say something!"

There was no sound from her. Crikulus tried hard to get a grip of himself, moving along until he had his friend's head resting in his lap. They were not being followed; he sensed that they were out of danger. But they were lost. Malbun was breathing heavily, still lying senseless. The wood had gone deep into her cheek. He set his teeth round the broken fir twig and rugged it free. Spirting it out, he tried to compose his nerves by speaking aloud.

"There's no real harm done, mate, though a bit further up and you might have lost an eye!"

The thought of such an injury, combined with the memory of swishing gra.s.s and musty odours, suddenly sent the old shrew into a violent paroxysm of shivering and shuddering. His teeth clattered like castanets and his entire body shook uncontrollably. He sat there alone in the night, trembling and nursing Malbun's head in his lap, weeping.

"Didn't want to come. Good thing I did. Couldn't leave you on your own, old friend. Hope somebeast finds the main gate unlocked. I only jammed it shut with that stupid bonnet. Oh, say something, Malbun, say something. Don't leave me alone here like this!"

14.

Moonlight danced on the waves. It was a clear night and the breeze was running fair. Kroova and Scarum lay sleeping under the bows.p.a.ce. Sagax sat at the tiller, taking his turn as steersbeast. The sh.o.r.eline was still in sight as the Stopdog Stopdog steadily plowed her course north. All the young badger had to do was to tweak the rigging lines and check the vessel from veering landwards. He was also tweaking his conscience, trying not to think too hard about his mother and father back home at Salamandastron. Sagax had an idea that his parents had secretly allowed him to leave and go roaming; it was customary with young male badgers. Yet somehow he had a feeling that he and Scarum had forced the issue through their rebellious behaviour. He decided that when they did eventually return home, he would become the model of good behaviour and obedience. Sagax chuckled to himself. But for now he would enjoy being a runaway! steadily plowed her course north. All the young badger had to do was to tweak the rigging lines and check the vessel from veering landwards. He was also tweaking his conscience, trying not to think too hard about his mother and father back home at Salamandastron. Sagax had an idea that his parents had secretly allowed him to leave and go roaming; it was customary with young male badgers. Yet somehow he had a feeling that he and Scarum had forced the issue through their rebellious behaviour. He decided that when they did eventually return home, he would become the model of good behaviour and obedience. Sagax chuckled to himself. But for now he would enjoy being a runaway!

Sitting there musing, he became aware of a flickering light coming across the waves toward the Stopdog. Stopdog. He sat, calmly watching until it appeared as a small boat with a tiny sail and two occupants. Hastily he roused Scarum and Kroova. He sat, calmly watching until it appeared as a small boat with a tiny sail and two occupants. Hastily he roused Scarum and Kroova.

"Wakey, wakey, you two sleeping beauties, we've got company coming. Better arm ourselves in case they're unfriendly."

Kroova took the cutla.s.s. Scarum tossed a dagger to Sagax, clenching the other one between his teeth.

Trying hard to look fierce, he scowled. "Haharr, buckoes! Woe to anybeast who crosses the path o' Scarum the jolly wild tailslitter, wot!"

The boat pulled alongside the Stopdog. Stopdog. It was crewed by a sleek grey seal and an old female sea otter. She sat calmly and cast an eye over the three, smiling at the sight of Scarum, who was trying to keep the dagger in his mouth whilst scowling around it. It was crewed by a sleek grey seal and an old female sea otter. She sat calmly and cast an eye over the three, smiling at the sight of Scarum, who was trying to keep the dagger in his mouth whilst scowling around it.

"Barnacles'n'binnacles! Will ye look at that pudden-headed young rabbit. What'n the name o' flukes'n'fishes are ye tryin' to do, chop yore own tongue out?"

Sagax could see that they were friendly. He extended a paw to help the sea otterwife aboard the Stopdog. Stopdog. "It wouldn't be such a bad thing if he did chop his tongue off, marm, it'd give us all a bit of peace. I'm Sagax." "It wouldn't be such a bad thing if he did chop his tongue off, marm, it'd give us all a bit of peace. I'm Sagax."

The sea otterwife seized his paw in a grip that belied her many seasons and leapt sprightly aboard. "My name's Raura Sh.e.l.lrudd, pleased t'meet ye. That there seal is Slippo, me ole shipmate. Ahoy there, seadog, wot d'they call you?"

Kroova winced as she shook his paw mightily. "They calls me Kroova, marm, an' that longeared scoffbag, well, y'can call 'im anything, as long as ye don't call 'im late fer supper."

Scarum spat out the dagger, spluttering, "Now see here, you two wavewallopers. One, I'm not a bloomin' rabbit, an' two, my name is Bescarum Lepuswold Whippscut, but you may call me Scarum. Tut rut, dear lady, no need for apologies, wot!"

Raura shook his paw until Scarum flinched visibly. "Wasn't goin' to apologise, matey. Kroova, I'm surprised at you. Yore no landlubbercan't ye see a risin' spring tide approachin'? Yore ship'll get pounded t'splinters on the sh.o.r.e rocks if'n ye stays on this course, eh, Slippo?"

Raising a shiny webbed paw, the grey seal called out, "Room, kahonk woopa buhonk!"

Scarum blinked at the seal. "I say, what's all that flippin' great honkin' row supposed t'mean?"

Raura took a ropeline from Slippo and secured the prow of her boat to the stern of the Stopdog. Stopdog.

"That ain't no honkin' row. Slippo's just agreein' with me. Shift yoreself, Sagax, I'll take that tiller. Ye can come to our den an' shelter from the 'igh tide. I take it ye ain't backward in coming forward if I was to offer youse a bite or two o' supper, eh?"

Scarum bowed gallantly to the sea otterwife. "Beauty combined with brains, m'dear, a rare combination in these watery parts, wot. Supper! The word hangs on the bally night air like a lingerin' melody!"

Raura winked at Kroova, nodding toward Scarum. "I bet that'n could eat the four legs off'n a table if'n there was no vittles on it."

Kroova sat next to Raura and trimmed the sails. "You never spoke a truer word, marm!"

High tide began rising as they beat their way up the coast. Seaspray shot in on the port side of the Stopdog. Stopdog. Raura took her visitors skilfully through a shoal of rock-strewn reefs. Slippo watched the friends' faces, horrified as they sped through the perilous stone maze. The sleek seal clapped his flippers and laughed. Raura took her visitors skilfully through a shoal of rock-strewn reefs. Slippo watched the friends' faces, horrified as they sped through the perilous stone maze. The sleek seal clapped his flippers and laughed.

"Ahuunk ahuunk ahuunkaaah!"

Raura's den was situated up a channel between some small cliffs. The pa.s.sage twisted and doubled back upon itself so many times that it took all the force out of the sloshing water.

Slippo slid expertly onto a thickly seaweed-fringed ledge. He moored both vessels loosely, allowing them to ride up and down on the swell. Raura explained.

"Lashin's o' seaweed 'ere, our liddle ships can b.u.mp against the rock forever. They won't come t'no 'arm. Away, boat's crew, shift yoreselves, messmates, step lively now!"

Sagax would never have guessed there was a cave at the rear of the ledge until Slippo drew aside a curtain of long trailing kelp. The friends hurried inside and stood staring wordlessly. It was a natural cave in the solid rock, with a crack in the roof serving as a chimney vent. A fire, complete with stone-slabbed hearth and a rock oven, burned low but warm. Raura fed the flames with driftwood and sea coal as she chattered away.

"Sit ye down there, you three. Slippo, where's yore manners? Serve 'em a drink an' fetch me some bowls!"

The seal rolled his huge liquid eyes. "k.u.mhoo kohay!" They sat on a shelf of rock padded with sailcloth cushions stuffed full of dried sea moss. Slippo presented them with beakers fashioned from nautilus sh.e.l.ls.

Scarum sipped warily. "Hmm, this tastes like a bit of all right, wot!"

Kroova smiled broadly. "Crabapple an' sweet woodruff tonic. I ain't tasted this since I was nought but a shrimp!"

Raura looked secretly pleased as she pulled a deep basin from the oven. Fragrant smells wafted round the cave. "Makes it to me own recipe. Nought like crabapple an' sweet woodruff t'put a gleam in yore eye an' a wag to yore rudder. Waif 11 ye taste my seastew an' laverbread!"

Scarum swigged away at his tonic drink heartily. "Yours truly is willin' to try anythin', marm. But 'laverbread'? What the deuce is that when it's at home, wot?"

Kroova accepted a wedge of the dark green loaf. "Laver-bread's made out of a special kind o' seaweed. It's a delicacy in coastal parts."

Sagax liked the laverbread. It was savoury tasting, a bit salty, but not unlike spring cabbage made into a loaf. The seastew was rare good eating, comprised of many types of shrimp and sh.e.l.lfish, thickened with cornflour and full of mushroom, potato, leek and carrot.

Kroova sampled it from his deep scallop-sh.e.l.l bowl. "Beg pardon, marm, but 'ave ye got any hotroot pepper?"

Raura produced two small wooden boxes and a tiny spoon. "This 'un's yore normal 'otroot, but this other 'un, hah, this is from my ole granpop's store. 'E used f make a livin' fightin' pirates. This pepper came from a corsair galley wot sailed from the far isles o'er the big ocean. I calls it Red Firebrand Pepper, ten times stronger'n 'otroot!"

Kroova sprinkled both peppers liberally on his seastew. He tried it, put the bowl down and bent double, making loud gasping noises. Grabbing his tonic, he quaffed a deep swig and straightened up. Tears poured from his reddened eyes and great beads of sweat stood out on his nosetip. He recovered himself and grinned from ear to ear. "Ph-wooooh! Now that's wot I calls prime good pepper!"

Scarum accepted another bowl of the stew, ignoring the boxes of pepper. He remarked cuttingly to Slippo, "These confounded seadogs, got no respect for their blinkin' stomachs, wot wot?"

Slippo raised his head from his bowl. "Wharuumph bu-loooh!"

The hare nodded drily. "Couldn't agree with y'more, old lad!"

Waves could be heard from afar, booming against the rocks, with a strong wind driving them. Inside, the cave was snug and secure. Raura served the friends some of her special crusty plum slice and a small beaker of old elderberry cordial. They sat enjoying the flickering fireglow whilst Kroova told them of their journey, where they had come from and the destination they were bound for, Red-wall Abbey, Raura took down a little harp and pa.s.sed it to Slippo. "Redwall Abbey, eh, I've 'eard tell of it, but I never got that far inland. Tis said to be a wondrous place fer sure. But you young 'uns must be tiredlie down an' sleep now. Slippo, play us somethin', maybe I'll sing. I ain't sung fer a while. I've fergotten most o' me songs, but I can recall this one, 'tis a nice ole ballad."

Stretching out gratefully on the covered ledges, the travelers closed their eyes and listened to the otterwife's song.

" 'Tis a far cry from home for a poor lonely thing, O'er the deeps and wild waters of seas, Where you can't hear your dear mother's voice softly sing Like a breeze gently stirring the trees.

Come home, little one, wander back here someday I'll watch for you, each evening and morn, Through all the long season 'til I'm old and grey As the frost on the hedges at dawn.

There's a lantern that shines in my window at night, I have long kept it burning for you, It glows through the dark, like a clear guiding light, And I know someday you'll see it, too.

So hasten back, little one, or I will soon be gone, No more to see your dear face, But I know that I'll feel your tears fall one by one, On the flowers o'er my resting place."

Raura and Slippo crept quietly out to check up on the vessels. Sagax and Scarum wept brokenheartedly, moved by the old otterwife's sentimental song. Then Kroova could not resist joining them. Tears welled up in his eyes and spilled out over his cheeks, wetting the cushions.

"I never knew me mum, but I'll bet she was jus' like the one in Raura's song, a dear grey-'aired old thing. Waaaah!"

Scarum rubbed at his eyes with both paws. "Boohoohoo!

My old ma will be standin' at the cottage door with a jolly brave smile on her face, hidin' the blinkin' tears, I know she will. Boohoohoo!"

Sagax sat up, sniffing and wiping at his eyes. "Waaha-haaa! But you don't live in a dear old cottage, you live in a whacking great mountain, just like me. Waahaaah!"

The hare used his long ears to mop at his eyes. "Jolly nice thought, though, ain't it. Boohoohoo!"

Raura and Slippo sat outside until the otterwife was sure her young guests had cried themselves to sleep. She listened awhile, then nodded. "There, y'see, Slippo, me ole mate, that'll teach 'em a lesson!"