Murfo stuck his head outside and roared, ‘Hoi, da, these beasts are friends, an’ they’ve got pudden on the hob. Bring the boyos over, will ya!’
In the blink of an eye, the shelter and the beach surrounding it was packed with hedgehogs, all untying stilts from their footpaws and casting aside their long white ghost robes. Murfo’s father, Dunespike, was possibly the biggest hedgehog Martin had ever set eyes on. Introductions were made all round, with Dunespike offering his apologies for frightening them.
‘Ah, ’tis sorry I am for puttin’ the fears into honest craturs like yerselves, but we’ve seen that sleek boat of yours afore, so we’d be forgiven for thinkin’ that you were the durty scut of a fox an’ his flotsam that usually sail in it. Ah yis indeed, Martin me ould son. Well now, isn’t this all grand?’
As one all the hedgehogs nodded and chorused, ‘Ah, ’tis grand, grand indeed, sir!’
Furmo scraped his ladle around the big pan, commenting, ‘Sorry there ain’t enough pudden t’go round all yore tribe.’
Chief Dunespike accepted the last bowl and passed it to his son, shaking his head ruefully. ‘More’s the pity, but those who get none’ll never know what they missed an’ be no worse for the missin’ of it! Here, me son, get that down yer gob an’ don’t go tellin’ your ould da how grand it tastes. Bad cess t’this rotten tooth o’ mine, it won’t abide the sweet stuff an’ torments the very life o’ me if I go near anythin’ sweetish, so it does.’
All the hedgehogs’ spikes rattled as they shook their heads and chorused in unison, ‘Ah yis, the ould tooth torments the big feller turrible!’
Trimp could not resist asking a question. ‘But why do you parade around the shore at night dressed as ghosts?’
Whilst Dunespike sat nursing his tooth, Murfo explained, ‘Sure, to scare off the sea vermin. They’re all superstitious wretches. Scarin’ them is far simpler than gettin’ the half of our tribe slain in battle. It works just grand, missie. Ain’t that right, boyos?’
Again all the tribe nodded their heads and spoke together. ‘Ah yis, ’tworks just grand, grand grand!’
Still nursing the side of his jaw, which looked painfully swollen, Dunespike glanced admiringly at Martin’s sword. ‘By the spike of the great hog himself, ’tis a grand an’ powerful blade you have there, Martin sir!’
Martin unsheathed his sword, holding it forth for all to see. ‘Aye, that it is. The hilt was my father’s and the blade was forged by a Badger Lord from a piece of a star that fell from the skies. This sword is a magic weapon!’
Dunespike shook his huge head in amazement. ‘Magic, you don’t tell me! How so?’
He did not see the wink that passed between Martin and Gonff. Martin turned the sword, so that the red pommel stone at its hilt top twinkled in the firelight. ‘This stone can soothe pains and heal wounds!’
The big hedgehog Chief stared reverently at the stone. ‘And toothaches?’
Martin smiled. ‘Aye, toothaches too!’ Digging a hole in the sand with his swordpoint, he pushed the sword in upside down. He held it in the deep wet sand until he judged the stone was cold enough. ‘Sit down here, sir. Gonff, will you get the other side of the Chief and hold his head?’
Dunespike sat down gingerly. Gonff braced the hedge-warrior’s head still by leaning against the uninjured side. The hog looked uncertainly at Martin, who was withdrawing his sword from the sand. ‘You wouldn’t be goin’ to hurt me now, would you, Martin?’
The Warrior smiled reassuringly. ‘Me, hurt you? I’m not even going to touch you, Chief. ’Tis the pommel stone does all the magic. Sit still and relax.’ Very gently, Martin began moving the cold stone in slow circles around the patient’s swollen jaw, murmuring as he did so, ‘Easy now, easy. How does that feel, nice and cool?’
Dunespike closed his eyes, leaning heavily against Gonff. ‘Ah, ’tis grand, grand, like a butterfly’s breath on a morn in spring. Don’t stop, Martin, keep doin’ that, round an’ round me ould rotten achin’ tooth.’
Martin whispered soothingly in Dunespike’s ear. ‘Round and round with the magic stone, that’s the stuff. Is your tooth in the middle of this area I’m circling?’
Dunespike sighed contentedly. ‘Yis, so ’tis, so ’tis.’
Gripping the crosshilt with both paws, Martin whacked the pommel stone, hard and sudden, right at the middle of the swelling, where the tooth was located. Thump!
‘Yaaaargooooogh! I’m destroyed, he’s killed me! Aaargh!’
The entire tribe of Dunehogs leaped forward. Martin swung his blade aloft, halting them with his fearsome war cry. ‘Eulaliaaaaa!’
Dunespike stopped roaring. He opened his eyes, felt the side of his jaw, then spat out a blackened molar. ‘Haharrharr! Look at that now! I’m free of pain – me ould tooth’s out! Oh, seasons preserve y’grand name, Martin sir!’
Trimp put a pawful of sea salt in warm water and stirred until it dissolved. She gave it to Dunespike, saying, ‘Take this and swish it around where the tooth came out, sir. ’Twill clean the hole and help it to heal.’
The big hedgehog patted Martin’s back so heartily that he almost knocked him flat. ‘Sure, an’ I wish ye’d done that when we first met, then I would’ve been able to tackle that grand pudden of yours. Martin of Redwall, yer a mighty cratur, sir, heroical, y’are.’
The Dunehog chorus echoed their Chief’s sentiments.
‘Ah yis yis, heroical indeed!’
‘Isn’t he the grand mouse!’
‘Oh, that he is, grand, grand!’
Murfo appealed to his father. ‘Da, would y’have Martin an’ his friends sittin’ the night out under some battered ould boatwreck? Sure an’ ’twould only be good manners to invite them back t’the roundhouse.’
* * *
14
TRIMP WALKED AHEAD of the main party with Murfo and a party of admirers, all of whom, it seemed, wanted to hold her paw lest she slip. They were deep among the dunes when Murfo stopped and tapped the side of his nose. ‘Well, missie, what d’you think of our roundhouse?’
Trimp looked round. All she could see was sand dunes. ‘Where? I can’t see any roundhouse?’
The hedgehogs danced with glee, highly amused.
‘Can ye not see it at all, pretty one?’
‘Ah sure, maybe she’s got her eyes shut!’
‘An’ the roundhouse starin’ her right in the face!’
‘She’s pretty all right, pretty short-sighted. Hahaha!’
At that Trimp lost her patience. ‘Very funny, I’m sure. Now would one of you stilt-legged, clay-faced buffoons show me this roundhouse?’
Murfo stepped forward to the side of the biggest dune and slid aside a screen of brushwood and dead grass, revealing an opening. Bowing low to Trimp he bade her enter. ‘How d’you like it, me beauty? This whole big dune is our roundhouse, an’ none can find it except the Dunehogs.’
It was an ingenious structure, built from stones, timber, clay and wattle, completely disguised as one massive sand dune. Inside it was lit by lanterns and a fire glowing beneath a stone oven, with secret air vents to the outside. Everybeast sat upon woven rush mats, and a silence fell as Dunespike entered and threw up his paws. ‘Do we know who we are?’
Every hedgehog held up their paws and answered, ‘Sons o’ the sand an’ daughters o’ the dunes!’
The Chieftain looked round until he had selected a very young beast, who was still learning the tribe’s rules. A question and answer session started between master and novice. Older Dunehogs watched, nodding sagely.
‘Do we fight our enemies?’
‘Dunehogs would rather use fright than fight!’
‘How tall is a Dunehog?’
‘As tall as his stilts!’
‘Where do Dunehogs live?’
‘In a roundhouse where nobeast knows!’
‘Why don’t they know?’
‘’Cos we cover our tracks!’
‘An’ when is it your turn to cover tracks?’
‘Da
wn ’til night, first quarter o’ the moon!’
‘Right. You did grand, young ’un, just grand!’
‘I thankee, Chief Dunespike!’
Food was served amid a babble of chatter. Dunespike plumped his huge bulk down between Martin and Trimp, knocking Murfo out of the way. ‘Ah, that’s better now. My turn t’sit next t’the pretty maid.’ He tweaked Trimp’s headspikes before turning to Martin. ‘These young ’uns must learn the rules, y’know. Sit ye an’ welcome to our ould home. Eat hearty now.’
The crew of the Honeysuckle soon got into the habit of eating like Dunehogs. There was aboard, piled high with wafer-thin ryeflour pancakes, and between each four creatures two earthenware pots were placed, steam arising from both. One of the pots contained a thick stew, consisting of overboiled potato, finely chopped cabbage, wild onions and various types of shellfish. This was spooned on to a pancake and rolled up carefully. One end was twisted a couple of times to stop the contents spilling out.
Gonff was an expert within seconds. He nudged a nearby Dunehog. ‘Good idea, this, mate. Saves a lot o’ platewashin’.’
‘Oh, that it does, sir. ’Tis a grand ould idea!’
Gonff, the perfect mimic, answered him in Dunehog idiom. ‘Ah sure ’tis. Grand, grand!’
Everybeast within hearing chuckled appreciatively.
When the first pot was finished, there was still about half the amount of pancakes left. These they used in like manner with the contents of the second pot: a sweet hot mass of pulped berries and honey, with some strange tangy spice mixed in.
Dunespike chomped away blissfully. ‘Ah, thank ye, Muther Nature, for the good ould sweet stuff. ’Twas meself was thinkin’ I might never taste it again until yourself magicked me rotten tooth away, Martin!’
For entertainment the Dunehogs laid on an exhibition of Spinetussling. A circle was cleared and two contestants tied on pairs of half-size learning stilts. They stood balancing at the ring’s inner edge. Then a few oldsters, acting as referees and judges, shouted, ‘Hold y’circle, no paw touchin’ now. Get set. Tussle!’ The pair stumped adroitly out, charging one another. They were two fully grown males and had lots of supporters.
‘Ah, g’wan there, Doggle, make him eat sand!’
‘Get into the great lump, Paykel, throw him spike o’er stilts an’ let’s see the soles of his footpaws!’
‘Watch the divvil now, Doggie, look out fer those sweeps with his stilts!’
‘Go on, Tussle will ye, Tussle!’
Both hedgehogs circled awhile then met in the middle with a resounding bump of heads. They locked headspikes and began trying to throw each other over. Not being allowed to touch one another with their paws made it very hard. Sweating and grunting they pushed back and forth, every now and again trying a side hop to unbalance the unwary one.
‘Now, Doggie, now, give him the ould sidehead twist!’
‘Use the one two forward butt, Paykel, an’ you’ll Tussle him!’
In the end Doggie triumphed. He took the advice, using a combination of the sidehead twist and a left stilt-sweep. With a roar of surprise, Paykel spun once in the air, stilts flying high, to land flat on his back. Cheers rang out from Doggie’s supporters as he leaned down and rapped on his opponent’s stilts thrice, which is considered a very sporting gesture in Spinetussling circles.
Now the Dunehogs were calling for the Chief to enter the ring, but he shook his head, smiling. Murfo yelled across at him. ‘G’wan, da, show ’em how a real champion Tussles, or is yer belly gettin’ too grand?’
This aroused jeers and laughter. Still smiling, Dunespike plodded down to the ring’s edge. ‘Are you fit to be thrown, Doggle?’
Doggle performed an agile dance on his stilts. ‘Aye, Chief, I am that. Though I’m thinkin’ ’twill take somehog younger an’ faster than yerself to throw me, ye fat ould omadorm.’
Dunespike raised one eyebrow. There was menace behind his smile as he tied on one stilt. ‘Ah sure mebbe I am gettin’ on in seasons, but let’s see if we can’t make ye kiss the sand wid yer backspikes!’
A gasp arose from the audience as Dunespike stood erect.
‘Will ye look at that, he’s goin’ to Tussle wid only one stilt. Doggie will make crab bait of the ould fool!’
One of the judges pointed at Dunespike. ‘D’ye not know yer wearin’ only one stilt, Chief?’
‘I do!’
‘An’ y’wish to Tussle like that tonight?’
‘I do!’
The judge shook his head in resignation. ‘Right. Hold y’circle now, no paw touchin’, get set. Tussle.’
The agility and skill of one so old and heavy shook Martin. Dunespike bounded across the ring on his one stilt, meeting Doggie who was yet not halfway across. Down went the Chief’s huge head, spikes bristling, and he caught his opponent a mighty butt, locking spikes and twisting powerfully. Doggie went sailing through the air sideways, to land amid the spectators. Roaring with laughter, Dunespike hopped over to knock his opponent’s stilts thrice amid wild applause. Then he looked at Martin. ‘Would ye like to tie the ould stilts on an’ Tussle wid me, Martin of Redwall?’
Shaking his head, Martin held up both paws, laughing. ‘I’d sooner tangle teeth with a shark than Tussle with you, sir. You’re a warrior born!’
Gonff chimed in. ‘Martin’s a warrior too, y’know, an’ sure he’s a grand one with the ould sword. Let him show ye!’
Martin shook his head wearily at the Mousethief. ‘Gonff, if you want any exhibitions of sword dancing you can do them yourself. I don’t like showing off every time we meet new friends.’
Gonff shrugged glumly. Trimp felt sorry for him and immediately tackled Martin.
‘It’s not a case of you showing off, Martin, it’s wanting to show you off to our friends. He’s so proud of you, as we all are. Couldn’t you manage just one little example of your bladeskill?’
Martin threw his paws about them both. ‘When you put it like that I’ve no option, missie. Forgive my bad manners to you, Gonff. Right, let’s see what we can do with these stilts!’
At Martin’s request the Dunehogs thrust two stilts upright in the sand and balanced another one across their tops. The three stilts looked like a doorframe standing freely in the middle of the ring. The Warrior bade everybeast stand clear. A silence fell as they eagerly watched Martin take up position, holding the sword over one shoulder in a classic fighting stance. After weighing the stilts up, he hopped a half-pace back and went into action with a roar. ‘Redwaaaaaaaalllllll!’
Like a shimmering blur of light the fabulous blade hit the topmost, horizontal stilt, sending it flying in the air. Almost within the same breath the sword zipped left and right, chopping both the upright stilts clean through their middles. Before the top stilt had hit the ground, Martin’s sword severed it in mid-air. Even before the thunderstruck audience could shout or applaud, Martin had sheathed his battleblade and was sitting calmly next to Dunespike.
Amid the tumultuous applause, stamping footpaws and rattling spikes, the hedgehog Chieftain found his voice. ‘Well stagger me spikes an’ pickle me paws! Martin of Redwall, ye’d be a useful mouse t’have around anyplace! I thought me own two eyes were tellin’ fibs t’me. Sure an’ I still don’t believe I seen y’do what y’did, sir!’
It was enough to end the battleplay. A great old hogwife took out a curious stringed instrument and began twanging it with her headspikes, another began shaking a tambourine, and a third took up his little paw-drum and beat a lively tattoo.
Murfo seized Trimp’s paw. ‘Haharr, can y’dance an’ sing, miss?’
Trimp skipped down to the ring ahead of him. ‘Just try me. I recognise that tune, ’tis “Hogstamp Pawclap”!’
Setting the sand flying, both young creatures went at the dance with a will, putting in all the fancy steps they knew.
‘Hogstamp pawclap all around the floor,
Shake those spikes that’s what they’re for.
Day is ended work is done,
>
Hogstamp pawclap everyone!
Curtsy the pretty maid bow down sir,
You’ve never danced with one so fair.
Take y’partner one two three,
Swing to the left love follow me!
Rap rap rap! Let’s hear those paws,
I’ll stamp mine if you stamp yours,
Round an’ round now jump up high,
Lookit that young hogmaid fly.
Hogstamp pawclap, move to the right,
I could dance with you all night,
Skip into the middle o’ the ring,
Raise y’voice let’s hear you sing!
Can’t you see, merry are we,
Here’s the land and there’s the sea.
Promenade let’s hear you say,
Honour your partner, jig away!
With a hog an’ a stamp an’ a clap clap clap,
Raise the dust up slap slap slap,
Beat that drum an’ pluck those strings,
Ain’t we all such lucky things!
Easy with the spikes now . . . Hedgehogs!’
As Trimp and Murfo halted, the music struck up again and nearly everybeast began dancing. Dunespike and Martin sat tapping time with tankards of Seafoam, a fine beer that the Dunehogs brewed themselves. Martin smiled as he watched Chugger kicking up his heels with a tiny hogmaid, and leaned towards Dunespike. ‘Guess who’s just changed from a squirrel to a hedgehog. Haha, yesterday he was a Sea Rogue captain!’
Dunespike took a deep swig and wiped a paw across his mouth. ‘An’ good luck t’the liddle sprig, sez I. See, Martin, yore pal the otter thinks he’s a bit of an ould hedgehog too!’
Martin was amazed at the transformation that had come over Folgrim. The scarred otter was roaring with laughter as he whirled a hogmaid round and round. Dunespike nudged Martin. ‘Sure an’ I wish that otter was one o’ me hogs. The boyo looks as if he’d stand no ould buck from anybeast!’
The Legend of Luke Page 12
