Cregga gave the impression she was thinking hard, then answered, ‘Yes, there was one other Redwaller entered the orchard.’
Mhera clasped the badger’s paw urgently. ‘Who?’
‘You!’
Vallug Bowbeast centred his shaft on the figure striding the north battlements and let fly. Eefera watched as the Redwaller fell back on to the parapet.
‘Good shootin’! You got it. Wasn’t that the squirrel who slung stones at us yesterday?’
Vallug fixed another shaft to his bowstring. ‘She won’t be throwin’ no more stones. I think I dropped ’er good, but I’m not certain. Right, let’s get their attention!’ He sighted on the bell tower’s top arched window, where the two bells could be seen, and gritted his teeth as he pulled the big bow to its full stretch. ‘Sittin’ target, can’t miss. This’ll wake ’em up!’
The arrow hissed off upward. It struck one bell, bouncing off the metal and causing a sharp clang. Another arrow followed swiftly, striking the other bell. Ding! The pair dashed off to the northeast wallpoint, shifting their position to avoid slingstones.
As the bells rang, Boorab, who was having an afternoon doze in the gatehouse, came hurtling out. He took the north wallsteps three at a time, bounding up to the ramparts and yelling at the top of his lungs, ‘Redwaller down! Bearers over here! Quickly now, everybeast lie flat! Redwaller down!’
Mhera heard the bells and came hurrying out, with Cregga, Filorn, Broggle and Friar Bobb in her wake. Dibbuns poured out after them, shrieking and milling about, frightened by the noise. Gundil, Foremole Brull and four of her moles came scuttling down the wallsteps. Between them, on a stretcher made from window poles and drapes, they carried Fwirl. Broggle bellowed hoarsely, as if the arrow had found him instead. The sight of Fwirl laid out with the shaft still in her side was more than the poor assistant cook could bear. He ran alongside the stretcher, holding his friend’s paw and stroking her brow. ‘Fwirl! They’ve killed Fwiiiiiiirl!’
‘You in there . . . lissen! D’ye hear me . . . lissen!’
Cregga held up both paws for silence, whispering to Brull, ‘Get her up to the infirmary, right away. Silence, everyone!’
Rough and gratingly loud, the voice from over the wall rang out again. ‘Are ye lissenin’? Answer me!’
Mhera sped up the wallsteps and threw herself down beside Boorab, who was lying flat beneath the battlements. ‘Answer him, go on!’
Boorab called out, loud and curt. ‘We’re listenin’. Who are you and what d’you want?’
Vallug’s voice came back a moment later. ‘Never mind who we are. Send out the Taggerung!’
Boorab looked at Mhera, who gave a mystified shrug. ‘What in the blazes d’you mean?’ he shouted back.
This time it was Eefera’s voice that replied. ‘We’ve come fer the Taggerung!’
The hare had been binding his kerchief to the end of the ladle he carried about as a swagger stick. He sprang up waving it. ‘Truce, chaps, truce!’ He sidestepped smartly, but was not quick enough to stop Vallug’s arrow slicing a wound in his cheek as it zipped by.
‘No truce, rabbit. Send the Taggerung out to us, or yore all deadbeasts, that’s all!’
Vallug fired two more arrows over the wall. ‘That should give ’em summat t’think about fer today.’
Eefera led the way as they retreated into the woodlands. ‘Aye, we’ll kill another tomorrer. They’ll soon send ’im out!’
Sister Alkanet cut the barbed head from the arrow and pulled the wooden shaft out of the wound in Fwirl’s side. She gave the arrowhead to Brother Hoben and set about mixing herbs and powders from her infirmary shelves. ‘It went right through. Never hit anything vital, or this pretty one would be dead. I can clean and dress this while she’s still unconscious. Good thing the shock and pain knocked her out. Would you see if that arrowhead is poisoned? Vermin often do that to shafts. This squirrel won’t be up and about for a while, but she’ll live. You can go and give Broggle the good news.’
In the passage outside the sickbay, Foremole Brull, Drogg Cellarhog and Gundil had tight hold of Broggle, who was struggling and pleading with them.
‘Let me go and see Fwirl. I must be with her, I must! Please!’
Brull had a strong but kindly paw about the squirrel’s neck. ‘Naow, zurr, doan’t ee fret yurrself. You’m h’only be inna way an’ ee Sister wuddent never ’ave that, burr nay, she’m surpintly wuddent. You’m be a guddbeast an’ be ee still noaw, maister!’
The door opened and Brother Hoben came out. He smiled at Broggle. ‘Fwirl’s not dead, my friend, merely senseless. She’ll be fine provided that this arrowhead isn’t poisoned.’
Drogg Cellarhog took the arrowhead. He licked it and smacked his lips thoughtfully. ‘’Tain’t poisoned. Any good cellar’og can taste badness after a lifetime o’ brewin’ all manner o’ drinks. Nah, that’s clean. Cummon, Broggle, me ole bushtail, smile. Yore Fwirl will be right as rain afore the season’s out.’
Blinking away his tears, Broggle smiled hopefully. ‘Does that mean I can go in and see her?’
Drogg threw a sympathetic paw about the squirrel’s shoulder. ‘Put one paw in there an’ ole Alkanet’ll physick the tail off ye, young feller. Best come with me t’the cellar, an’ I’ll give ye a flask of me special tearose an’ violet cordial. When miz Fwirl feels brighter, y’can pick ’er a nice bunch o’ flowers an’ take ’em up with the cordial.’ They went off together down the stairs, Broggle talking animatedly.
‘Is it good stuff, this cordial? Will Fwirl like it? Now, what kind of flowers should I pick? Er, pansy, marigold and celandine if there’s any still about. She likes golden-coloured flowers.’
Foremole Brull nudged Gundil. ‘Hurr, so does oi, but et be’s a long toime since oi ’ad any.’
Gundil smiled from ear to ear. ‘Hurr hurr, oi’ll goo an’ pick ee summ, marm. Keep Broggle cumpany.’
On his way downstairs, Gundil passed Mhera, assisting a reluctant Boorab up to the infirmary.
‘Oh, pish tush, m’gel, nothin’ a plum pudden won’t cure, wot. I’d sooner have a plum pudden than a blinkin’ physick off that stern-faced poisoner. I’ll bet there’s chaps gone in there an’ never come out again after one of Sister Alkanet’s potions was poured down their flippin’ faces. I’ll just nip down t’the kitchens. Nothin’ a beaker of October Ale an’ the odd bucket o’ salad won’t take care of, wot wot?’
Mhera kept a firm grip on the hare’s ear. ‘Come on, you great fusspot, that wound needs dressing. I’ll see that you get extra supper after she’s finished with you.’
The suggestion of extra food heartened Boorab considerably. ‘Oh, well, have it your own way, miz. By the way, d’you know what a Taggerung is, ’cos I’m jolly well blowed if I do?’
Mhera’s face was grim as she knocked on the sickbay door. ‘No, I don’t know what a Taggerung is, but just let one show its face around here. Mayhap we’ll find out more at the elders’ meeting tonight. Surely somebeast has heard of a Taggerung.’
* * *
27
Even though the night was warm and a full moon hung in the sky like a new gold coin, Vallug felt sulky. He had always lit a campfire at night. Eefera crouched in the shelter of a broad beech tree, trying to ignore the ferret. Vallug looked at the small heap of twigs he had gathered.
‘Night time’s miserable when y’don’t ’ave a fire!’
Eefera was enjoying the Bowbeast’s discomfort. ‘Well go on then, you light a fire. But don’t expect me t’sit by it. I told yer, those beasts in there ain’t stupid. If they’ve got any good slayers or seasoned warriors, they’ll be out searchin’ for us right now. It makes sense, don’t it? We prob’ly killed two of theirs an’ wounded the big rabbit. If they’re supposed t’be the fighters Sawney Rath reckoned ’em t’be, they ain’t goin’ to let that go without strikin’ back. You don’t need no fire, not on a summer night like this. Yore gettin’ soft in yer old age.’
Vallug stood slowly. Stiff-necked, he clenc
hed his paws. ‘Lissen, weasel, d’you want ter try me, see ’ow soft I am, eh?’
‘Sssshh, stow it!’ Eefera cocked an ear, listening carefully to the sounds of the night-time woodlands. ‘See, I told yer,’ he whispered. ‘I can ’ear ’em. Lissen?’
Vallug tuned in his senses to the sounds amid the trees. ‘Aye, yore right. What’ll we do?’ He watched a slow, wicked smile spread across the weasel’s face.
‘Sounds as if there’s no more’n three of ’em. Let’s light the fire an’ ’ide nearby. We’ll kill one an’ take the other two alive!’
Dagrab sniffed the warm dry air suspiciously. ‘I kin smell fire. Pine an’ dead beech twigs, over yonder.’
Gruven drew his sword, signalling the other two to arm themselves. They crept forward, Gruven whispering urgently, ‘Take no prisoners. Kill anybeast who’s by that fire!’ Then he dropped back slightly, allowing Dagrab and Rawback to go unwittingly ahead of him.
Stalking carefully between the trees the two vermin approached the fire, and waited until Gruven caught up. Dagrab turned as he appeared between them. ‘Chief, there’s nobeast there.’
Gruven crouched down. ‘Take a look around.’
Rawback blinked as he scanned the area beyond the flames. ‘Dagrab’s right, Chief, there ain’t nobeast about.’
Gruven laid his sword upon the grass. Placing a paw on each of their backs, he shoved them stumbling into the firelight. ‘Well, if there’s nobeast there wot’re ye scared of?’
Both vermin gave a panicked squeak, and turned to jump back out of the firelight. Eefera leaped from the shadows and whacked them flat with a long chunk of dead oak branch. Gruven reached for his sword, but it was not there. Vallug’s bow dropped over his head from behind and was pulled backward, choking Gruven as the swordpoint prodded at his spine. Vallug marched him into the firelight.
‘Well, if it ain’t the Gruven Zann Juskazann called to visit ’is ole mates. Isn’t that nice? ’E brought Dagrab an’ Rawback along too. We’re all one big ’appy family agin, eh?’
Any ideas Gruven had harboured of killing Vallug and Eefera by ambush collapsed. Pangs of fright caused him to flop down on the ground. His cowardly nature took over, and he emitted a choking sob.
‘Th-there’s f-food in the sacks.’
Eefera grabbed the supply sacks from the stunned vermin. He shook their contents out in front of the fire. It was the remains of the provisions they had plundered from the southern Forthrights.
‘Hoho! Flatcakes an’ nuts; fruit, too. Wot’s in the flasks? Cordial? Looks good, eh? Aha, a fruitcake, a nice big ’un! Bet you was keepin’ this fer yerself, Gruven, bein’ chief an’ all that.’
Vallug dug the swordpoint into Gruven’s back a little. ‘Oh, this ’un’s a real Juskazann all right. Did ye ’ear ’im back there? Take no prisoners, kill anybeast who’s by the fire? Then ’e ’angs back an’ lets those two dead’eads go forward!’
Still keeping the sword at Gruven’s back and the bow around his neck, Vallug leaned forward until he was breathing down his prisoner’s ear. His voice dripped contempt. ‘Yore a gutless worm, Gruven. Go on, tell us wot you are. Say it!’
Gruven’s nose was dribbling. He made no attempt to hide his tears, and his voice sobbed brokenly as the bowstring pulled tighter. ‘A gutless worm. Please don’t kill me!’
Munching cheerfully on a flatcake and drinking cordial, Eefera sat next to Gruven and winked at him.
‘’S all right, mate, we ain’t goin’ t’kill ye. Yore goin’ to be useful to me’n’Vallug. Wipe y’nose an’ stop blubbin’ now.’
Vallug had every intention of killing Gruven there and then. But he wanted Eefera to think he was clever also. He loosed the bowstring and withdrew the sword, kicking Gruven flat. ‘Aye, stop slobberin’. You’ll fit in nicely with our plans!’
Eefera made the three sit together by the fire, with Gruven in the middle. He bound Gruven’s paws, one to Dagrab, the other to Rawback. Taking the free paws of Dagrab and Rawback, he bound one to the other behind them.
‘There now, all nice’n’comfy. Ye can’t run anywhere among trees tied like that. Y’see, we killed a few creatures from that Abbey over yonder. They might ’ave warriors out lookin’ to kill us, an’ that’s enough t’stop anybeast gettin’ a good night’s rest, ain’t it? So ’ere’s the plan, mates. You sit by the fire, an’ I’ll pile a bit more wood on so it won’t go out. Now, if’n there ain’t warriors out lookin’ fer tattoo-faced Juskas, you’ll be safe enough. But if’n there is, well, luck o’ the game, ain’t it? Either way, me’n’Vallug can sleep easy ’til dawn. Good, eh?’
Vallug was impressed by Eefera’s plan, although he never said so. But just to emphasise that he too was smart, he checked the captives’ bonds for tightness, warning them, ‘Don’t try to escape. We’ll be somewheres close by all night, an’ you won’t know if’n one of us is awake, watchin’ yer!’ Then the pair retired into the shadows, leaving their three decoys bound together in full view of the fire.
‘Vallug was right, Gruven,’ Dagrab muttered savagely. ‘You are a gutless worm!’
Though still frightened, Gruven had recovered some of his bad temper. ‘Shut yer snivellin’ face,’ he snarled. ‘I’m tryin’ to think!’
Rawback laughed ironically. ‘Huh! Snivellin’ face? You should’ve saw yerself a moment ago. I’m a gutless worm, please don’t kill me. Think about that! We musta been mad t’follow you, Gruven. Y’never change, do yer? Once a coward always a coward, that’s you!’
Gruven’s eyes blazed hatred as he glared at Rawback. ‘You’ll die fer that, I promise!’
Rawback bared his teeth at Gruven. ‘We might all be dead by mornin’, bigmouth!’
Torches and lanterns burned late in Cavern Hole. All who were able attended the meeting. Cregga addressed the anxious-faced assembly.
‘First things first. Does any Redwaller know what the word Taggerung means? Apparently those vermin will leave us in peace if we send them out a Taggerung.’
Mhera gazed round at the silent puzzled faces. ‘I never heard the word until today. It’s probably a vermin term for something. Could it mean loot, or booty, do you think?’
Tentative suggestions started to come.
‘Aye, they might think we keep treasure here?’
‘Mayhap it means somebeast in authority, an Abbot or Abbess?’
‘But we don’t have an Abbot or Abbess, and even if we did, the last thing we’d do is turn them over to a mob of vermin!’
‘Hurr, who’m said they’m wurr ee mob? Miz Furl said she h’only see’d two of ee vermints.’
‘How is Fwirl? Have you seen her yet, Broggle?’
Sister Alkanet fixed the speaker with a stern eye. ‘No he has not. I’ll say when that squirrelmaid is fit to receive visitors. Old Hoarg is well now, he’ll be up and about by tomorrow morning, but I wish to complain about that hare—’
Boorab, who had a bandage under his chin reaching up to a bow tied off between his ears, rapped the table and interrupted. ‘You’re gettin’ away from the point, marm, though if you’d nipped out an’ physicked those two vermin bounders, they’d be well on their way, wot! A Taggerung, eh? Well, with our knowledge of vermin type slang, they may’s well have asked for a bucketbung or a jolly old bellwotrang, eh, eh?’
Cregga’s booming voice silenced the hare. ‘This is no time for joking. Kindly keep any silly remarks to yourself, sah. If we don’t know what a Taggerung is, then we cannot deliver it to the vermin. But they are murderous beasts; it was only by pure luck that Hoarg and Fwirl weren’t slain. Have you any thoughts on the matter, Mhera?’
The ottermaid had, and she made them known. ‘I think we’d be best concentrating our attention on the vermin. Fwirl said there were only two, with heavily tattooed faces. However, although that may have been all she saw, who knows how many of them are out there? I don’t wish to scare anybeast, but we could be in real trouble if vermin have come in numbers. We don’t have any real warriors at the A
bbey now that Skipper and his crew are away. So, can I suggest three things. One, we must all stay indoors, except the wallguards, and they must not show themselves above the parapet. Two, we must send a good runner, somebeast who is fleet of paw, to find Skipper and bring him back here with his crew. Finally, three. If we cannot fight the vermin, then we have to get them to parley, so that we can understand what it is they want from us.’
Sister Alkanet had immediate objections to Mhera’s last point. ‘Give vermin what they want? Why not just fling our gates open wide and let them march into the Abbey? I’ve never heard anything like it. Parley with vermin? Never. I’d fight them to my last breath!’
Drogg Cellarhog grabbed the Sister’s paw and sat her down. ‘An’ wot good would that do, marm? Mhera never said anythin’ about lettin’ vermin march in here. Why don’t you listen. She’s tryin’ to do the best for all of us, tryin’ to buy us time until help arrives. Hopin’ to find out the full strength of the foebeast.’
There were cries of ‘Well said, Drogg!’ and Cregga had to pound the table to restore order.
‘When I had eyes I slew more vermin than you’ve ever seen. Make no mistake, vermin are cruel, heartless murderers. Mhera is right in what she says: we must do what is best for all. Tomorrow we’ll try to ascertain just how many vermin are at our gates, then we can decide calmly what must be done. Meanwhile, everybeast will stay inside and the guard patrol will continue, but they must not expose themselves to danger. Now go to your beds, please, and get a good night’s sleep. We’ll need clear heads to see this crisis through. Friar Bobb, Filorn, Broggle, will you see that the guards have sufficient food and drink for the night? Boorab, do you still feel fit enough to command the sentries?’
The hare threw an extremely smart salute and winced slightly. ‘Fit as a physicked frog, marm, as long as they sling portions of this an’ that to keep the old energy up through the darkened hours. Chap can get hungry in the dreary night watches, wot! Can’t have us guardian coves perishin’ at our posts, y’know.’
The Taggerung (Redwall) Page 30
