Raventail wavered, not sure what to do next. He looked to an old toothless ferret, reputed to be wise, and the old vermin nodded his head vigorously. He too was impressed by Vannan’s appearance.
‘Yehyeh, meknow ’boutder Marlfoxes. Rakkarakka! Muchmuch magic!’
As if to confirm his statement, Ascrod stepped out from a tree behind Vanna, causing widespread consternation among the ferrets.
‘Kye arr! See twobeast now! Shallakaaaah! Marlfox’n’Marlfox!’
Vannan’s lips scarcely moved as she whispered to Ascrod, ‘Well done, brother. We’ve got these ignorant savages’ attention.’
She raised a paw imperiously, pointing beyond to the woodland. ‘Behold the warrior servants of the Marlfoxes!’
Allag and his patrol marched out of the trees in double ranks. The ferrets turned round to watch the smartly clad water rats. By the time Allag’s soldiers arrived at Raventail’s fire, both Marlfoxes had disappeared. Raventail circled the fire, utterly astonished. ‘Kye arrrrrrr! Wherego Marlfoxes?’
Ascrod and Vannan had circled back to where Allag’s patrol had been previously hidden. They emerged from the trees, walking very slowly and looking mysterious. The ferret Chieftain grabbed the paw of the ancient one he had consulted before.
‘Yehyeh! Allmagic Marlfox be bigmagic!’
Vannan muttered out the side of her mouth to Ascrod as they approached the awestricken Raventail, ‘Let’s sit down and do business with this one, now that we’ve convinced him Marlfoxes are really magic!’
Florian was also impressing an audience at that moment. Armed with a soup ladle and a large wooden salad fork, he pranced about wildly in front of the Abbeybabes, performing a victory ode he had composed in which credit for the rout of the vermin was due largely to the fighting prowess of one Florian Dugglewoof Wilffachop.
‘Armed to the dirty mangy teeth,
Ten of ’em came at me,
Hoho, me buckoes, here, sez I,
Only ten of ye?
So I boxed their ears an’ blacked their eyes,
Then tied their tails in knots.
I kicked their bottoms o’er the walls
With javelins an’ slingshots,
When suddenly behind me back,
Some foulbeast shouted “Charge!”
An’ twenty-three came right at me,
Those villains were quite large.
So I got me trusty salad fork,
An’ jabbed ’em here’n’there,
I left ’em weepin’, full o’ holes,
“Oh save us from that hare!”
Well I grabbed a fleein’ Marlfox,
An’ punched him on the snout,
Both his boots went flyin’ off,
I gave him such a clout!
Those rats were dirty fighters,
Out came me old soup ladle,
The cowardly pack o’ blighters,
Fled fast as they were able.
I chased ’em, laughin’ bravely,
Haharr now off you pop,
I’m the warrior who saved Redwall,
An’ me last name’s Wilffachop!’
Unknown to the garrulous hare, Bargle and Mayon were watching the performance. The two Guosim shrews sat concealed by a berry hedge, observing Florian’s wild contortions as he declaimed his outrageous ode. They were not sure whether to scowl or laugh.
‘Modest ole beast, ain’t ’e, mate?’
‘I wonder who taught ’im t’dance, a mad caterpillar?’
‘Even a scalded frog couldn’t prance about like that. I’ve never seen a creature’s paws, tail, ears’n’whiskers goin’ so many different ways at one time!’
‘Oh, haharrharr! Ole Florian’s fell flat on ’is tail. I knew ’e would. Couldn’t keep up a twirlin’ jig like that!’
Sister Sloey, assisted by Rimrose and Ellayo, was checking up on Redwallers who had sustained injuries during the fighting. A line formed on the stairs to the Infirmary, the patients mainly shrews who had slingshot or arrow wounds which needed re-dressing. Rimrose finished neatly bandaging a Guosim paw. ‘There you are, Splikker, good as new. Keep it dry now, that cut is healing nicely. Next!’
Ellayo and Sloey were applying a compress of wet herbs to the head of a mole who had been hit by a slingstone.
‘Don’t worry, sir, that bump is smaller than ’twas yesterday. Do you still feel dizzy at all?’
The mole touched a heavy digging claw to the swelling on his brow. ‘Oi be foine now, thankee, marm. Doan’t feels loik oi gotten two ’eads no more, hurr hurr!’
There was a commotion on the stairway. Florian was pushing his way to the front of the line. ‘I say, make way for a warrior, you chaps, pish’n’tush! Load of scratches an’ bumps, wot! A feller could be dyin’ for all you flippin’ lot care. Out o’ the confounded way, sir!’ He came barging into the Infirmary, but did a smart about-turn when he saw three females in attendance. ‘Er, er, harrumph! Not t’worry, ladies, I’ll come back another time. Extremely busy, lots t’do, wot wot!’
Ellayo and Sister Sloey cut off his retreat to the door.
‘What seems to be the matter, mister Florian?’
‘You never reported a wound. Sit down an’ tell us about it.’
‘Er, er, rather not sit down, Ellayo marm,’ Florian blustered, backing up to the wall. ‘Nature of the wound, doncha know, er, haha . . .’
Sister Sloey nodded understandingly. ‘Oh, I see, you were wounded in the tail area. Why didn’t you come here yesterday?’
‘Er, well er, didn’t feel so jolly bad then, you understand, just today though, been givin’ me a bit o’ gyp. Must’ve been a few arrows or a couple o’spears got me. Forgot all about it in the heat of battle, y’know. Chap doesn’t like to cause a fuss.’
Rimrose began gathering herbs for a poultice. ‘Oh, you poor creature, you must have been in great pain!’
Florian turned sideways, showing his noble profile and devil-may-care smile. ‘Oh, ’twas nothin’ really. Stiff upper lip, wot!’
Winking and grinning at everybeast about, Bargle and Mayon entered the Infirmary. Each tossed a broken half of a wooden salad fork on the table.
‘Mister Florian, sir, wot’s Brother Melilot goin’ t’say when he sees wot y’did to ’is salad fork?’
‘Aye, I’ll wager it smarted a bit when y’fell an’ sat down on it like that. Must’ve give yer a nasty jab in yore backside, sir?’
Over the uproarious laughter from the shrews waiting in line, Ellayo gave the hare a piece of her mind. ‘You great flop-eared fraud! Wounded by spears an’ arrows durin’ the fightin’, eh? Yore a fiddle-faced fibber an’ a trickster!’
The Infirmary door slammed before Florian could make good his escape. Guosim shrews crowded round the outside, peeping through the keyhole and pressing their ears to the woodwork, to witness what was taking place inside.
‘Er, I’ll come back t’morrer, marm. What’re you doin’ with those bally great tweezers? No, please, I beg you. Yaaaah!’
‘Bargle, Mayon, hold him still, there may be splinters. Don’t want to leave them in there, do we?’
‘Ooooh! I say, go easy there! Yowchouch!’
‘Is that water hot enough yet, Rimrose? I want to make a nettle poultice. Can’t be too careful with tail wounds!’
‘Yeeeek! Assassins! Help me, somebeast, they’re torturin’ me t’death! Owowowowowowwww!’
‘So brave an’ silent, ain’t ’e, Mayon?’
‘Whooooooh! Fiends! Gerroff, lemmego! Oohoohooh!’
‘Stiff upper lip, mister Florian, that’s the jolly ole spirit. Chin up an’ never say die, ole chap, wot wot!’
Brother Melilot and Runktipp were setting up the banqueting board in the orchard. Gubbio Foremole and Tragglo Spearback upended a cask on to a trestle, and Tragglo knocked home a spigot with his bung mallet. He held a beaker beneath the tap, allowing a small quantity of sparkling pinkish liquid to flow into it. Melilot took the proffered beaker and sipped.
‘Best s
trawberry fizz cordial I ever tasted!’
Runktipp sat on the ground, looping a thin wire about the big white celery cheese he was about to cut. ‘Lend a paw ’ere, Brother, ’tis too much for me t’cut alone!’
Melilot clapped a paw to his forehead. ‘Pear’n’chestnut flans! I’ve left six of ’em in the ovens!’ He hurried off, calling back orders. ‘Tragglo, help cut the cheese, will you! Foremole, send some of your crew to collect those oatfarls from the windowsills, they should be well cooled by now! Roop, Muggle, start loading the trolleys. Don’t forget the salad – oh, and see if you can find my serving fork. I don’t know where ’tis gone to. Deesum marm, would you be kind enough to top off the trifle? You’ll find fresh chopped fruit on the big stone slab. Oh dear, I hope those flans aren’t burnt!’
Tragglo and Runktipp pulled the wire smoothly through the large cheese, then lifted off the moist white circular slice and cut it into four wedge-shaped chunks ready for the table.
Runktipp glanced sideways at the berry hedge. ‘We’re bein’ watched, mate. ’Tis prob’ly cheese-robbers!’
Tragglo took his barrel knife and cut a small piece from the cheese, held it up and called out to the hidden creatures, ‘You can ’ave some cheese if’n you promises not t’slay us all afore our work’s done ’ere!’
The fiendish Dwopple and his cohort, the molebabe Wugger, emerged from behind the hedge. Both Dibbuns were practically unrecognizable. Daubed from ears to tail with grey kitchen ash and flecked with black spots of charcoal, they wore grey blankets, purloined from the dormitory, as cloaks. Stumbling on the blanket hems, they leapt towards the cheese.
Tragglo struggled to keep a straight face. ‘An’ who might you turrible beasts be?’
Dwopple turned his most fearsome scowl upon the big hedgehog. ‘Us be’s Marmfloxes, an’y’can’t see us, ’cos we be unvizzible!’
Tragglo caught on to the game right away. He looked strangely at Runktipp, who had also guessed what was going on. ‘Did you say somethin’, mate?’
Runktipp shook his spiky head vigorously. ‘I never said a word. I thought ’twas you, mate?’
Dwopple sniggered gleefully as he and Wugger grabbed the cheese. ‘It workin’, tol’ yer they cuddent see us, heehee!’
Wugger broke the cheese in two, giving half to his partner in crime. ‘Hurr, vurry gudd. Us’n’s best varnish naow, loike ee Marmfloxes!’
The heavy digging claws of Gurrbowl Cellarmole descended on them. ‘You’m bain’t a-varnishin’ nowheres, rogues. Oi see ee gudd enuff t’know you’m be in gurt need o’ a barth an’ sound scrubbin’!’
Both ‘Marmfloxes’ were hauled off kicking and squealing by the dutiful molewife.
Added to the scent of the orchard, an aroma of wonderful food created an intoxicating atmosphere. Janglur, Skipper and Rusvul had been temporarily relieved by three good Guosim, and were sitting together with Rimrose and Ellayo. All around them the buzz and chatter of happy creatures added to the festive spirit. Even the vari-hued butterflies and bumblebees that hovered about the orchard seemed part of the enchanted afternoon.
Cregga Badgermum created an instant hush when she stood to speak. ‘Friends, Redwallers, good creatures all, before we carry on to enjoy this sunny day, let me say a few words in the absence of either Abbot or Abbess. First, let us hope that the Marlfox threat has gone from Mossflower country. Brave creatures lost their lives in defence of our Abbey, and we must remember them always in our minds and hearts. But also we must resolve never to yield to evil, whether it be Marlfox or any other vermin attempting to destroy the peaceful life of Redwall. Next, I feel we should give due thanks to our warriors. Janglur Swifteye, Rusvul Reguba, Bargle Guosim, Skipper of otters, Borrakul and all of you who defended the Abbey, our thanks to you brave ones!’
There was a mass murmur of agreement, which broke out into hearty applause. Cregga waited before continuing.
‘Also we must live in hopes for the safety of Janglur’s daughter Song, Rusvul’s son Dannflor and the young Guosim Dippler. These, we now know, have gone to get back the tapestry, which is the very heart of Redwall. Fate and fortunes keep them well and aid them on their quest. Now, before we begin, is there anything that you wish to ask me, friends?’
Tragglo Spearback’s voice rang out strong and clear. ‘Aye, marm, I want to know why you ain’t our Abbess. Everybeast wishes you were!’
Roars of approval and loud cheers echoed everywhere. Skipper was forced to whack the table with his rudder to get order. ‘Ahoy, give marm a chance, will ye? Thanks, marm, the floor’s yours.’
Cregga nodded gratefully in the otter Chieftain’s direction. ‘Well done, Skip! Redwallers, I once had command when I ruled Salamandastron, the great fortress by the sea. Now I wish to live out my seasons in peace. I can help and advise, but I will not rule, on that my word is final. So, if there are no more questions, we will start the feast!’
Bargle held up a paw, grinning mischievously. ‘Beg pardon, marm, but could you tell us why mister Florian ain’t sittin’ down like the rest of us?’
Cregga’s blind eyes turned in the shrew’s direction. ‘Isn’t he? I hadn’t noticed. Mayhap mister Florian can throw some light upon the mystery. Sir?’
Amid gales of laughter from all who knew what had happened, Florian glared daggers at the cheeky shrew. ‘Flippin’ spiky-mopped waterbeetle, mind your own business, wot! Chap has the right t’stand or sit as he jolly well pleases, without your bottle-nosed enquiries, flamin’ fatbellied boat-bobber! Shove some salad down that great gob of yours an’ give it a flippin’ rest!’
‘I was just about to do that, sir,’ Bargle shouted cheerfully back, ‘but I can’t find the salad fork noplace. But we all trust you, mister Florian. You will find it!’
Adding insult to injury, Mayon roared out, ‘Aye, you’ll get t’the bottom of things, won’t ye, sir!’
The outraged hare loaded two plates high with food and marched off, balancing a flagon of October Ale between the platters. ‘A frog’s feather for you lot. I’ll go an’ dine elsewhere. I’m not standin’ here t’be insulted!’
‘Then sit down if y’dare!’
Redwallers held their aching ribs, sobbing with laughter, as much at Bargle’s parting shot as at the sight of Florian Dugglewoof Wilffachop, strutting off with a heavily bandaged rear end.
* * *
23
Late night turned extremely cloudy, leaving the four travellers paddling in complete blackness for long periods when the moon became hidden by heavy cloudbanks. The stream had grown much deeper – wider, too – and they could no longer feel the odd touch of paddle against streambed. Dann caught the first overhanging branches that he could reach and hauled them in to the bank. ‘That’s enough for one night, pals. The stream may get pretty treacherous in the dark. Let’s make camp.’
Pulling the Swallow up on to dry ground, they sat on a partially mossed rock shelf. Song peered about her, but could not make out much in the thick tree groves surrounding them. ‘What d’you think, Dann? Shall we chance a fire?’
The young squirrel was busy digging food out of their packs. ‘Hmm, I don’t see why not, eh, Burb?’
‘Ah yiss yiss, a bit of an ould blaze always cheers things up, an’ we might see where we’ve landed. Yiss!’
Dippler went off to look for fuel, and was soon back, staggering under a load of wood. ‘Found a stricken pine tree back there. Good dry stuff ’tis.’
Dann struck flint against his swordblade on to some dry moss, and soon they had a bright crackling little fire. Supper consisted of a few scones, some almonds and raisins and a brew of Goody Brimm’s mint and burnet rosehip tea. Only the immediate area of their camp was lit up; beyond that the woodland looked thick, dark and impenetrable.
Without warning a rock whistled out of the night and struck Burble a thudding blow between his shoulders. Dann and Song acted swiftly, dragging the watervole into the shadows, whilst Dippler scattered the fire into the stream with the flat of his paddle blade
. A mocking voice called out of the woodland to them. ‘Yah, y’ain’t got yer big ’edge’og wid yer now. We’re comin’ t’get yez, me liddle buckoes!’
They recognized the voice immediately. It was the stoat whom Soll had chased off, and they had no doubt that his two weasel allies were still with him. He called out again. ‘No use tryin’ to ’ide from us, young. ’uns, we’ll get yer. Stand where y’are an’ drop yer weapons. If ye do we’ll make it quick. But move a muscle an’ yore dyin’ll be long’n’slow!’
Dann blinked his eyes hard, rubbing a paw into them to dispel the effects of the firelight. Song was already on the move. She launched the Swallow back into the stream, and then she and Dippler helped Burble into the boat. He appeared to be in considerable pain. Song pushed the craft clear of the bank.
‘Burb, are you all right?’
‘Yiss yiss, I’m fine, missie. Cummon, we’d best git goin’!’
But the pretty squirrelmaid had other ideas. ‘Listen to me, Burb. Grab that branch hangin’ down yonder. Hold the Swallow offshore an’ wait for us. But if anybeast tries to get you or the boat, let go of the branch and drift off. We’ll catch up with you downstream, all being well.’
Song and Dippler crawled back to where Dann hid in the shadows. The stoat was still calling. ‘Naughty naughty now, ye’ve moved. We’ll ’ave ter punish yer fer that, me liddle friends!’
Song grasped her Leafwood stick, Dippler and Dann drew their blades.
‘No use runnin’ from them, they’ll only follow us. Let’s do a bit of punishin’ of our own, mates. Remember what Soll said, they’re only bullies and cowards. Split up and go three ways!’
Song crawled off into the trees, towards where the stoat’s last call had come from. She heard the whirl of a sling close by and the whoosh of a rock hurtling off towards their former position. A voice then, whispering low; it sounded like one of the weasels.
‘’Tis ’ard to see in this dark. Mebbe they’ve got away?’
‘Nah, they’ll still be there,’ the stoat replied, low but confident, ’terrified out their wits, you wait’n’see. You take the left, you take the right, an’ circle in on ’em. I’ll go straight in. We’ll ’ave ’em on three sides wid the stream at their backs, and then fer a bit o’ sport, eh, cullies?’
Marlfox (Redwall) Page 23
