The conversation was interrupted by Splikker, who came trotting back on his own tracks, Gesturing with a paw over his shoulder. ‘Left the scouts further along the trail, Chief. There was all sorts o’ noises comin’ from the edge of the marshy area. Come an’ see wot we’ve found. Y’won’t believe yore eyes!’
He turned and ran off the way he had come. Their curiosity roused, the entire party hurried after him.
Florian Dugglewoof Wilffachop made a brave figure as he stood on the seat of the half-submerged cart like the captain of a sinking ship. In one paw he held the long sword with which Runktipp had menaced the Marlfoxes. It was only a trick stage prop and kept bending in the middle of its blade. Notwithstanding this drawback, Florian brandished it at the grinning shrews.
‘Laugh all y’like, you scurvy villains, you’ll not take me alive! By the cringe an’ fur you won’t, not while there’s breath left in this poor body to defend the ladies an’ the infant, wot!’
One of the shrews laid his rapier on the ground. ‘We ain’t gonna hurt ye, mate, ye’ve got my word on it . . . Yowch!’
Dwopple hung over the back of the cart. Loading another stone into his small sling, he announced with an innocent smile, ‘I’m a h’infant. I shooted ya wi’ me slinger. Heeheehee!’
The shrew rubbed furiously at his swelling nose. ‘You liddle pot-scrapin’, that ain’t fair! We came ’ere in peace!’
Florian waved the flapping blade of the sword at him. ‘A likely story, sah. Peace me flippin’ whiskahs! I’ll have y’know you are dealin’ with a band of expert warriors, trained to slay with a single bally swipe, wot!’
Skipper, Log a Log and Janglur arrived on the scene at this point, closely followed by Song and Dippler. Song immediately went to the injured shrew and held a pawful of damp moss to his nose.
‘What’s going on here, may I ask?’ she said.
At the sound of a sweet musical voice, Florian was transformed. Sweeping off his straw hat, he bowed so low that he almost fell into the mud surrounding the cart. ‘Faith, miss, your tones are music t’me ears, wot! Pray dissuade those small surly rogues from attacking us. We are innocents lost. A simple troupe of strolling players, ravaged by an unseasonable quirk of the weather and unjustly menaced by savage spikefurred persons.’
The shrew took the damp moss from his nose long enough to argue back. ‘You flop-eared ole fraud, you was the one goin’ to attack us!’
Deesum showed herself, wringing a large flowered kerchief anxiously. ‘Oh, desist from bickering and help us, please!’
Gallantly Skipper and Janglur helped the troupe from the cart, taking care to swing them out clear of the mud. Introductions were made all round as the Guosim rolled their canvas sails into long bands, attaching them to the cart like tow ropes. Skipper and Janglur found a good stout yew limb to use as a lever. The cart rocked back and forth, making wet sucking noises, as the team of Guosim pulled and Skipper levered. Janglur found the shaft and the crosstree beneath the mud and hauled. With their combined efforts they soon had the cart back on firm ground. Skipper shook mud from himself as Florian thanked him.
‘My my, what a stout feller you are – stout fellers all, in fact. Let us put on a performance for you in gratitude for your sterlin’ services in recoverin’ our jolly old transport, wot!’
Skipper could not help smiling at the effusive hare. ‘Lucky y’never went any further afore ye got stuck, matey. That’s a swamp out there, an’ there wouldn’t have been a trace of you creatures or yore cart in the middle of the marshes!’
‘Oooooohhhy!’
Deesum did a graceful swoon and fainted. Janglur indicated her prone form with a nod at Ellayo. ‘Bring ’er round, Mum. Mister Florian, yore performance’ll have to wait till another time. We’ve got to get to Redwall Abbey afore dark.’
Florian did a comical double take. ‘Redwall Abbey, sah? Capital! The very place we are proceedin’ to. Mayhap we can wend our way together – strength in unity, y’know. I can defend you from any blackguards, rogues or hardpaws we may encounter on the way. Lead on, my good fellow, lead on!’
Deesum gave a yowl and sprang upright. Borrakul looked in awe at Ellayo. ‘You soon brought ’er outta that faint, marm. You must ’ave good medicine.’
Ellayo clambered up into the cart. ‘Good medicine nothin’. I could tell she was fakin’, so I just bit the tip of ’er tail. That brought ’er round all right. This’s a good little cart, save my ole paws a bit. Move over, young ’un!’
Dwopple moved, scowling at the old squirrel. She scowled right back. ‘Just put a paw near that slingshot o’ yourn an’ I’ll bite yore tail clean off to teach ye good manners!’
Elachim the otter yelled, ‘Here’s the good ole sun come to chase the dull clouds away!’
After the prolonged rain, wind and dark skies, a bright summer sun set everybeast’s spirits soaring. Cheering and laughing, they continued their journey to Redwall.
Late afternoon found Tragglo and Dannflor out on the path by the Abbey, gathering dandelions and the sticky-budded burdock. The Cellarkeeper explained the finer points of the plants as they culled them into a rush basket.
‘Dannelions, now, you can use ’em fer brewin’ or in salads. Pick the young ’uns with plenty o’ buds on, they’re the sweetest.’
Dannflor smelled the lemony fragrance of a young bud and nibbled it. ‘Right, Tragglo, they do taste good. Which burdock do I pick?’
The hedgehog pointed them out. ‘Those smaller ones. They’re the lesser burdock, much better’n the big ’uns, which’re called greater burdock. Good juice in lesser burdock. Y’can use it fer treatin’ burns an’ bruises, or y’can take the whole plant fer brewin’, or use the stalks in salads too. Hold ’ard there, young Dann, who be they comin’ up yon path?’
Dannflor shaded his eyes against the sun, watching the strange assortment of creatures and the canvas-covered cart approaching the Abbey. An otter out in front raised his paws and called out, ‘Redwaaaaaalll!’
Tragglo climbed out of the ditch where they had been gathering plants, wiping his paws on his apron. He chuckled. ‘Me ole pal Skipper an’ some friends by the look of ’em. Go an’ give the bells a toll, Dann, let every-beast know we got company!’
The young squirrel scampered off, delighted to have the privilege of being bellringer. Hurrying into the ground floor of the belltower, he grabbed the two ropes, one in each paw, high up and pulled with all his might.
Bong! Boom!
Dannflor’s footpaws shot off the floor. He dangled there a moment, then came down to the ground again as the bells tolled a second time. Releasing the ropes, he ran outside and joined the Redwallers who were hurrying towards the gate, eager to meet the visitors.
Dannflor’s father recognized a friendly face instantly. Hugging and back-patting, they greeted one another.
‘Janglur Swifteye, you haven’t changed a hair since the old days!’
‘Hahaha! Neither have you, Rusvul Reguba, you old warrior!’
‘Ellayo, Rimrose, you look well. Hah! I’ll wager that’s yore daughter, Janglur. A lot prettier’n you but she’s got yore long eyelashes. Come here, son, I want you to meet my ole pal Janglur an’ his family. This is Dannflor Reguba, son of a warrior!’
Song shook Dannflor’s paw. ‘I’m Songbreeze Swifteye, but they all call me Song.’
‘Pleased to meet you, Song. I’m Dannflor, but they call me Dann.’
‘Where’s your mother, Dann? Is she here?’
Dannflor looked down awkwardly. ‘She died when I was very small. I don’t even remember her.’
There was a moment’s embarrassed silence, then Dippler bounded up. ‘Hello, you’ve found another pal for us, Song. Don’t introduce him – I’ll guess his name afore the season’s done.’
Song gave the shrew a playful shove. ‘This is Dippler, he throws water on squirrels when they’re trying to sleep. Dippler, meet our new friend Dann!’
Brother Melilot had been holding a whispered conversatio
n with Badgermum Cregga. She nodded in agreement with him. Melilot banged the main gate timbers with a copper ladle to get attention.
‘Friends, guests, travellers, whoever ye be, welcome to the Abbey of Redwall. Now, d’you want to stand out here gossipin’ an’ back-slappin’ until dark, or would you like to come along inside an’ get somethin’ to eat?’
Florian’s voice rang out over the general chorus of approval. ‘Eat, sah! Did my ears deceive me or did somebeast mention victuals? Lead me to the jolly old table an’ I’ll show you what a peckish thespian can accomplish armed only with mouth and appetite, wot!’
Foremole Gubbio murmured to Gurrbowl Cellarmole, ‘Hurr, woe be us’n’s, oi’ll wager yon creature’s gurtly ’ungered!’
Sister Sloey, who had heard the remark, nodded agreement. ‘That hare looks as if he could strip the orchard bare on his way to clean out the kitchens!’
The visitors were seated on the lawn, close to the Abbey pond, whilst numerous Redwallers hurried off to the kitchens to prepare food for them. Log a Log, Janglur and Florian sat apart from the rest, and quietly reported the Marlfox sightings to Cregga, Friar Butty and Nutwing. The blind badger listened carefully to what they had to say before giving her verdict.
‘I’d always thought Marlfoxes were a legend, some kind of bogeybeast whose name is used to frighten naughty Dibbuns. But in the light of what you have told us I think there could be great danger in their presence around Mossflower.’
Nutwing preened his wing feathers thoughtfully. ‘Hmm mm. What’s to be done about them? Log a Log says that they’ve got a considerable number of water rats, and that means extra trouble.’
Friar Butty looked around the group. ‘We need the advice of an Abbey Warrior. Trouble is, old Abbot Arven was the last Redwall Champion, but he’s passed away. Er, I don’t suppose any of you creatures would have a suggestion?’
Janglur’s slitted eyes betrayed little as he spoke his piece. ‘Here’s what y’do. First you shut that Abbey gate tight. Nobeast leaves Redwall, except for scoutin’ patrols. Our friend Log a Log can organize his Guosim shrews fer that. Meanwhile, we’ll use what warriors we have to organize defences. Skipper, Rusvul an’ myself.’
Cregga’s heavy paw patted Janglur’s shoulder. ‘Thank the seasons we’re not without sensible warriors. You arrived at Redwall not a moment too soon, friend. Friar Butty, what do we know of Marlfoxes? Is there anything in the Abbey recordings that might help us?’
‘I’ll take a look, marm. Mayhap you’ll help me, Nutwing?’
The owl began polishing his spectacles on his breast feathers. ‘Hmm mm, of course I will. I’ll do my best to remember all you say.’
Janglur had another suggestion to make. ‘If’n you want to know about Marlfoxes, I’d start by askin’ my ole mum, Ellayo. She’s never spoken too much about it, but I’m sure she’s got a couple o’ tales concernin’ such beasts.’
Meanwhile, over by the pond, Dann scooted a flat pebble out over the surface, counting the number of times it skipped. ‘I make that five. Of course, I’m pretty used to this pond. See how many times yours bounces, Song.’
The flat brown pebble Song had found skimmed out while they watched it.
‘Four, no, four and a little one. Oh, go on then, we’ll call it five. Righto, Dippler, let’s see if you can beat five!’
The young Guosim shrew picked up a pebble, not bothering about its shape or weight, and slung it almost haphazardly, turning to face his friends as the stone skipped on its journey across the water. ‘Eight! But y’must remember that I was born around water, been skimmin’ stones since afore I could speak.’
Dannflor was watching the main Abbey door from the corner of one eye, and now he noticed Brother Melilot emerge with a ladle and a flat pan. The young squirrel smiled slyly at his companions. ‘Hmm, you two are pretty clever at most things, aren’t you. Well, let’s see how good you are at bein’ first in for scoff!’
He took off from them at a dead run on the same instant that Melilot began banging the ladle against the pan and shouting, ‘Vittles ready in Great Hall, come and get ’em one an’ all!’
Song and Dippler pursued Dann, berating him.
‘You crafty rotter, wait for us!’
‘Treewalloper! Least you could’ve done was give us a level start!’
Mokkan the Marlfox pointed to a sheltered creek at the streamside, raising his voice.
‘This should do. Pull in here, and hide the boats under those trees.’
The female Marlfox, Ziral, leapt ashore and watched until the last logboat had turned into the inlet. When the water rats had disembarked she called two of them. ‘Allag, Ruheb, take six trackers apiece, spread out and go separate ways. Find our brothers and sisters and bring them back here.’
Mokkan stretched wearily out beneath a spreading sycamore, glad to be free from the confines of a logboat’s prow. He snapped out orders to the water rats standing to attention along the bank. ‘Get the nets, find fish. Archers, bring down some birds. You four, collect wood and get a fire going. Dry wood, mind – we want as little smoke as possible. Bring fruit and berries, only the ripest ones. You, spread my cloak carefully over that bush to dry out.’
As the rats scurried to do his bidding, Ziral sat down beside him, nibbling at a juicy grass blade. ‘The Abbey of Redwall is not far west of here.’
Mokkan closed his eyes, savouring the sun’s warmth. ‘I know that, but we don’t make a move until the trackers find Vannan, Ascrod, Gelltor and Predak and bring them back here. Relax, vixen, there’s no hurry.’
However, Ziral was unable to rest. She paced the bank, honing her axe blade on a sliver of shale. ‘I’ll relax when we’re back on the island with that mother of ours. Halfwitted old fool, you’d think she has enough possessions, but no, all she does is witter on from morn till night, “I must be surrounded by beauty, I must be surrounded by beauty!’ I don’t know how our sister Lantur stands it. I’d like to surround her with a couple of boulders tied to her neck and drop her in the lake, then she could be surrounded by fishes!’
Mokkan opened one eye. ‘It’s treason to speak about the High Queen in such a manner, you know that?’
Ziral snorted contemptuously and flung her axe. It buried its blade deep in the sycamore trunk.
Mokkan sniggered dryly. ‘Temper, temper, sister of mine! That sort of behaviour won’t do you any good.’
Ziral’s pale eyes blazed. She pushed aside a water rat, sending the creature staggering into the shallows as he tried to hold on to the bundle of kindling wood he was carrying. The vixen Marlfox jerked her axeblade viciously from the sycamore trunk. ‘High Queen? Silth is nought but a doddering old wreck who hides behind silken curtains. Why doesn’t she die and leave the island to us, her own brood?’
Mokkan raised himself on one paw, smiling. ‘That’s when the trouble will really start. There’re seven of us, we’d never be able to share all that wealth and rule the island together from Castle Marl. Not without killing each other off. Remember, we’re Marlfoxes, born to stealth and deceit. Only one of us could ever rule the island.’
Ziral made as if to sheathe her axeblade beneath her cloak, then instead she suddenly brought it about in a scything swipe, only to find it locked against the curve of her brother’s axe. Mokkan forced the vixen’s axe to the ground and trapped it beneath his footpaw. He continued smiling at Ziral.
‘You see what I mean, sister!’
* * *
6
Janglur Swifteye gazed in awe and admiration at the tapestry hanging on the west wall of the Abbey’s Great Hall. It depicted vermin fleeing in all directions from the figure standing boldly at its centre, Martin the Warrior. The armour-clad mouse leaned upon the hilt of his fabulous sword, a friendly reckless smile on his striking features.
Janglur whistled softly. ‘Now there stands a warrior among warriors, by the seasons! He looks so confident an’ strong, small wonder those vermin are fleein’ for their lives, mate!’
&nb
sp; Rusvul pointed to the name embroidered on the border. ‘Aye, that’s Martin the Warrior. He was the creature who freed Mossflower from tyranny an’ helped to found this Abbey of Redwall. I felt just as you do, when I first saw him. This tapestry means a great deal to any creature calling itself a Redwaller. But come an’ join the company at vittles afore that hare an’ his performin’ troupe do a vanishin’ act with all the food. Twist me tail! Those actors can put it away!’
Florian Dugglewoof Wilffachop was on his fourth bowl of summer salad with celery cheese and barley bread. Between salads he had demolished a number of strawberry cream tarts, a mushroom and leek pasty with gravy and a portion of woodland trifle topped with meadowcream that would have fed four Dibbuns for two days. The hare waggled his ears appreciatively. ‘I say, you chaps, this spread is absojollylutely enscrunchable! My compliments to the cook, Lady Cregga, marm!’
The Badgermum put aside her apple turnover with maple syrup. ‘Tell him yourself, mister Florian. He’s just resigned at the thought of having to cater for you again!’
The entire table of guests fell about with laughter. Florian looked slightly baffled, and attacked a wedge of plum pudding pensively.
‘Flippin’ strange feller. You’d think a cook’d enjoy servin’ up dinner to a chap who enjoys his tuck, wot?’
Dannflor sat between Song and Dippler, advising them on the fare. ‘Here, Dipp, try some o’ this candied fruit sponge, you’ll like it. Song, here’s some deeper’n ever turnip’n’tater’n’beetroot pie.’
Foremole winked broadly at the pretty young squirrel. ‘Hurr, you’m gonna loik et, missie, us’n’s h’eat et noight’n’day. ’Tis ee moles’ fayvurrt grub, burr aye!’
Rusvul treated Janglur to a tankard of October Ale and a thick slab of yellow cheese studded with hazelnuts and carrot, with a small farl of hot brown bread. ‘Git that down yore famine-fed chops, mate. ’Twill make yer feel like a real warrior!’
Marlfox (Redwall) Page 6
