Outcast Of Redwall

by Brian Jacques

  The bushes rustled, there was a small splash in the stream, and a moment later the woodland was quiet as the warriors vanished like smoke on the breeze, heading northward to where Swartt Sixclaw the Warlord was camped with his horde.

  * * *

  21

  All through that dreadful winter, heavy grey-green seas pounded the rime-crusted shores, and immense rolling waves hurled themselves high above the tideline. Sometimes the breakers nearly touched the mountain itself, but the extinct volcano stood solid, proof against all weathers since the dawn of time. Inside Salamandastron, for the main part, it was dry and warm, particularly the inner chambers of the honeycombed rock. Hares of the redoubtable Long Patrol had made it so; it was not just a fortress, but a home in which they could rear their families in comfort.

  A young and very shrewd female hare named Sundew was Sunflash’s constant guide and companion throughout the winter. She saw that all the badger’s needs were catered to with the minimum of bother. His personal living quarters were quite high up in the levels of mountain chambers. They were big and comfortable in a rough way, as befitted a Badger Lord.

  Sunflash had woken with a start on his first morning, then, realizing where he was, he rolled in a leisurely way from the cushion-strewn rock ledge which served as a bed. Throwing wide the wooden shutters of a long rectangular stone window frame, he gazed out at the restless sea and dark, cloud-scarred sky, illuminated by that pale dusty lavender light which often heralds the oncoming of winter. Hearing the thick cedar door creak open behind him, the badger did not turn, but remained staring out to the horizon.

  Sundew stood beside him, paws cupping her chin, as she leaned on the sill, watching the birth of a new day. ‘Goin’ t’be a jolly hard old winter, m’Lord,’ she said.

  Sunflash glanced sideways at her. ‘Indeed it is, Sundew, and harder for me than most creatures, for I have a lot to learn about this place.’

  ‘Then let us go and have breakfast. When you have eaten, I will show you around your mountain and try to answer all your questions, Sire.’

  The dining chamber was a scene of chaos. Hares are reputedly mighty eaters and it was as if each was trying its hardest to live up to that reputation. Long trestle tables were packed with hares, from lanky tough old males, through to formidable-looking harewives, leverets of both sexes who fluttered their eyelids at one another whilst stuffing food shamelessly, and little ones with atrocious table manners who gorged and fought alternately. The food was good, but not fancy: autumn pears and russet apples, nuts and berries, hot oatmeal, soft white bread, cheeses and herb tea, with flagons of cordial for those who wanted it.

  As Sunflash entered an immediate silence fell upon the diners. He shunned the huge carved chair that was the seat of the Badger Lord, choosing to sit by a young male leveret instead. Hurriedly the servers set out food and drink before him.

  Sunflash broke bread and winked at the leveret, asking, ‘What’s your name, young un?’

  ‘Bradberry, Sire, but the chaps call me Bradders, doncha know.’

  The badger looked across the table to a female leveret who was twitching her nose and fluttering her lids at Bradberry. ‘Well, I tell you, Bradders, that young haremaid yonder looks as if she’s trying to tell you something.’

  A chubby young hare seated the other side of Bradberry stopped sucking oatmeal from a bowl long enough to comment, ‘That old gel’s Fordpetal – she’s jolly deep in love with Bradders. Silly as brushes the pair of ’em, Sire!’

  Bradders wiggled his ears so hard with embarrassment that they almost twisted into a knot. He averted his eyes shyly, paying detailed attention to some crumbs on the table. ‘Yah, go stuff nuts up your nose, Porty. Soppy ole haremaids, always pullin’ faces an’ wigglin’ eyes at me!’

  Sunflash stifled a smile as he bit into a russett apple. ‘You shouldn’t be so good looking, then! Try to seem a bit ugly and battered, like me.’

  Fordpetal’s big brown eyes widened, and she leaned over towards Sunflash smiling boldly. ‘Oh, Sire, how could you say that you’re ugly’n’battered? I think your golden stripe is very pretty – matter of fact, you’re a very good-looking badger, if y’pardon me sayin’, wot!’

  Sunflash rose hastily from the table, taking with him a hunk of cheese and another apple.

  ‘You’re right, Bradders,’ he said. ‘She is pretty soppy! See you later.’

  Sundew took Sunflash through the cellars, where he inspected the drinking stock, stopping to sample from different barrels with a small tasting ladle.

  ‘Hmm, I like this one, very fruity and warm!’

  ‘So it bally well should be, Sire; that’s old elderberry wine, been sittin’ there fifty seasons, they say. Very good for colds’n’chills, but two beakers of it’d blow your ears off!’

  He was shown through the bachelor hare barracks, sickbay, larders, dormitories, meeting chambers and nursery. Next came the armoury, cells and lookout caves; practically that whole day was given over to viewing all Salamandastron had to offer. Sunflash began to realize that he was Lord over what amounted to a town inside a rock.

  When they were above the level of his own accommodation, Sundew stopped, and said, ‘Only you may go here, Sire; few hares have been allowed this far.’

  Turning to ask her the reason why, Sunflash found himself alone. Sundew had vanished downstairs. Walking down a broad passage, Sunflash came to a hanging curtain; he pulled it aside and discovered a great forge room. There was a forgefire at its centre, with bellows, a stock of timber and seacoal, and nearby stood a mighty, horned anvil. Spears, daggers, lances and arrows, javelins, heavy slings and clubs lined the walls. A gigantic broadsword hung from metal pins; the badger took it down, surprised at its weight, but delighted by the balance of the fearsome battleblade. His grandsire, Boar the Fighter, may have wielded it, or his great grandsire Lord Brocktree. Sunflash put the sword aside and picked up his own weapon, the mace; it felt better suited to his paws. Several sets of finely-made badger armour stood about: deep-chested breastplates, shining steel greaves and warlike helmets, and there were shields too, with heroic devices graven upon them.

  Passing through the forge room Sunflash wandered, upstairs, around corners, down passages, until he felt completely lost and overawed at the vastness of the mountain’s interior. Then he came to a dead end: suddenly the corridor ran out, and he was facing a bare rock wall. Sunflash inspected it and noticed in it a crack, little more than a claw’s thickness. Setting his own claws into the crack he tugged sideways, and the rock gave a bit, grating noisily. He pulled harder, until the crack widened sufficiently for him to wedge his mace handle in. Setting his shoulder to the macehead Sunflash gave a mighty shove and the crack opened wide. One more hard push and the whole wall started to swing outward. The secret doorway was open.

  Flint, steel and tinder lay on the floor inside, along with several torches of dry brush. Swiftly he struck flint to steel, blowing the sparks which had landed on the tinder into life. A small flame appeared. Sunflash lit a torch, and walked to the narrow hall.

  Then, with a roar of shock the badger staggered back, dropping the torch. Swiftly he retrieved it, sparks showering around him like fireflies as he held it high. There at one end of the hall was a fully armoured badger seated upon a throne! Immediately he knew that this was his great grandsire, Old Lord Brocktree. The hairs on Sunflash’s back stood on end as he walked forward to stand in front of his ancestor. The vizor of the splendid warhelm was closed over the Badger Lord’s eyeless sockets. Sunflash’s paw trembled as he traced it through the dust on Brocktree’s burnished breastplate. He knew that inside the armour there remained nought but a skeleton of the once great warrior, but there was no denying that their blood was one and the same. Sunflash knelt and wept then, for the heavy burden fate and seasons had placed upon his family.

  The guttering torch brought him back to reality and he looked about for something to keep the light going. There beside a great wall covered in carvings, he found a hamm
er, chisels and a lantern. Gratefully he lit the lantern from the dying torch and sat upon the floor staring at the rows of curious pictures graven across the wall. Sunflash breathed in the sweet-smelling smoke from the lantern; it was not an unpleasant aroma. Gradually he leaned over until he was lying flat on the cool floorstones; they felt good, restful. He put aside the smoking lantern with its dim golden light. A great desire to sleep overtook him; closing his eyes he listened to a soft voice, singing to him from afar. The corridors of his mind became one with the dim incense-wreathed hall and its music.

  Rest awhile, sleep awhile,

  Here where the warrior stays,

  Old as the dust of seasons,

  Soft as the call of lost days.

  Mountain Lords marked out by fate,

  Watch o’er great seas forlorn.

  You are the heart of this ancient rock,

  Where mighty legends are born.

  Pale shades of bygone Badger Lords, hares in battle formations, searat galleys, vermin hordes and the clangour of war, mingled with pounding surf in the dreams of Sunflash the Mace. Louder and louder the pounding grew. Sunflash came awake in darkness; the lantern had gone out. Somebeast was pounding against the far wall from its other side. Dim cries reached the Badger Lord’s ears.

  ‘Sire, are you there? Answer if you can hear us!’

  Sunflash stood upright, bellowing aloud, ‘I’m in here, wait!’

  Groping his way to the wall, he felt around until he encountered a deep crack. Sunflash pulled both ways, gouging huge blunt claws into the stone rift, and the entire wall moved fractionally. Howling his warcry, the badger pitted his strength in one colossal effort against the groaning rock.

  ‘Eeulaliaaaaa!’

  The wallrift opened full three pawlengths. Shaking dust from his eyes, Sunflash kicked his mace into the gap, wedging it open. Sundew and several other hares were on the other side in the forge room. They shouted out in relief.

  ‘Oh, thank the fur an’ fates you’re all right, Sire!’

  ‘Whew! When you go missin’, you make a proper job of it, wot?’

  ‘What’s that sweet smell? Whew, what’ve y’been cookin’ in there, m’Lord?’

  ‘Must’ve eaten somethin’ t’keep him goin’ three days, wot!’

  Sunflash could scarce believe his ears. ‘Three days? You mean I’ve been in here three full days?’

  Sundew’s paw came through the opening, and she patted Sunflash’s face, as if to reassure herself that it really was him. ‘Rather! An’ three nights, doncha know, this is the morn of the fourth blinkin’ day, Sire. I’d have never forgiven myself if we hadn’t found you, worried out of m’mind I was!’

  Sunflash interrupted her recriminations. ‘Is there a lantern or a torch in there? Pass me a light through, hurry!’

  There was a few moments’ scratching about, then a flaring, resin-soaked torch with a metal sconce ring on it was thrust through the opening. Sunflash took it, saying, ‘Stay where you are, I won’t be long. There’s something I must see.’

  The carved wall was covered with pictures of badgers and battles, searats, vermin bands – they were all there. Sunflash recognized a figure near the end; it was obviously his grandfather, Boar the Fighter, armour-clad, armed with a great battleblade, putting searats to flight. Curiously, the next figure was very small, but quite heroic. It was a mouse, carrying a broken sword hung about his neck on a cord, and there were other smaller figures accompanying the mouse on a journey towards the mountain. Next was a likeness of the same creatures leaving Salamandastron, though this time the mouse was wielding a bright new sword of great beauty. Beyond that was a small space. Sunflash caught his breath. Carved into the wall was a clear picture of himself, carrying his mace over one shoulder, walking towards the mountain.

  * * *

  22

  In the forge room, the hares sprang aside as the wallgap rumbled wide. Sunflash opened it by using his great mace as a lever, then he squeezed through and pulled the mace after him not a moment too soon. The rock rift ground back into place closing the gap in the forgeroom wall. They stared curiously at the Badger Lord as he stood there calmly, a faraway look in his dark eyes.

  Sundew was profuse in her apologies. ‘Beggin’ your pardon, milord, we should never’ve ventured this far into your personal quarters, but we were so worried!’

  Bradders had also come along with the search party. ‘I say, Lord, you must be absolutely starvin’, old Sire. The last mouthful of scoff you had was breakfast, three flippin’ mornin’s ago – must make a chap jolly hungry, that sort of thing!’

  Sunflash rubbed his eyes and shook his great head to bring himself back to normality. He patted Sundew’s paw. ‘You did the right thing, young un. Bradders is right though, I’m really hungry. Is breakfast over?’

  Porty, the fat young hare who was Bradders’s pal, nodded. ‘Not a bally crumb left, old lad, er, I mean Sire.’

  Sunflash could not help chuckling at the tubby hare. ‘I couldn’t imagine there being much left on any table once you’ve had your fill, wobblechops. Never mind, I’ll fix something for myself in the kitchens.’

  Sundew whispered in Sunflash’s ear. ‘First you must come to the sickbay – there is an urgent matter that can’t wait.’

  Sunflash recognized the two slight figures laid in twin beds immediately. He went to them and took their paws. ‘I remember you two – it’s Breeze and Starbuck. You’re the two elders who met me when I arrived here that first day.’

  Starbuck blinked his rheumy old eyes and coughed fitfully. ‘Aye, Sire, that was us. Do you know, we both served under your grandsire Boar the Fighter.’

  Sunflash looked closer at both creatures. It was then that he realized just how old they really were. He turned to Sundew, saying, ‘If this is right they must have more seasons on them than anybeasts I have known.’

  The young hare dampened a cloth and wiped the wrinkled brows of both the ancients. ‘They speak true, Lord. These two are the only ones left who fought alongside your grandsire, and how they lived this long nobeast knows. Every last day of autumn season since the death of Boar the Fighter they have both stood in the main cave entrance by the shore, as if awaiting your coming.’

  Breeze pressed Sunflash’s paw feebly. ‘Lord Boar told us of a dream he had, he told us to watch for the gold-striped warrior. You came, now our waiting is at an end – is that not so, Starbuck?’

  The old male smiled weakly and managed a nod. ‘Aye, ’tis so, sister, our duty is done now. We go to the dark forest. Lord Boar will have a great feast prepared in our honour.’

  Sunflash pressed Starbuck’s paw gently. ‘Tell me about my grandsire,’ he said.

  Starbuck gazed at his small withered paw, almost lost in the badger’s massive one. ‘What is there to tell, Sire? Boar was a mighty fighter. None could stand against him when the bloodwrath took him. He was a true Badger Lord, and so are you. I see it in your eyes, feel it in your paw. You will be a mighty warrior, even greater and more fearsome than you are now, eh, Breeze?’

  The old female tightened her hold on Sunflash’s paw. ‘Aye, that is true, but you will fare better than Lord Boar, because you love young ones and babes, I know this. The young will always befriend and admire you. Boar was a lonely creature; the only babe he ever spoke of was your mother Bella. She was his babe, but all the young ones of the earth belong to you in friendship. Be good to them.’

  Sunflash and Sundew stayed with Starbuck and Breeze until they fell asleep, then they left the room quietly and went down to the kitchens. Sunflash felt two things: hunger, and the need to cheer up after his long sojourn in the secret chamber and the saddening experience of sitting with two old creatures whose seasons had run out. The cooks looked up from their steaming pots and bubbling concoctions as Sunflash entered. They bowed briefly, and the head cook, a fat, bad-tempered bachelor hare, enquired, ‘Do you require food, Sire? I will cook your meal myself.’

  Sunflash lifted the lid of a pot and sniffed i
ts contents, saying, ‘Hmm, porridge again! Don’t we ever have anything more exciting?’

  Clang! The head cook slammed his ladle down on a panlid. ‘Sire, you are in my domain now, the kitchens. You are also in my way – kindly take yourself off somewhere!’

  All work in the kitchens stopped; the younger hares, who were minor cooks and helpers, held their breath momentarily. The head cook was something of a tyrant, and they wanted to see how the new Badger Lord fared against him.

  Sunflash could have cowed the head cook with a single glance, but the badger never used bullying tactics. Instead he began peeling a big russet apple, smiling at his opponent. ‘What d’you put in your porridge, friend?’ he asked.

  ‘Salt, oats’n’water – what else would y’put in porridge, eh?’ the cook replied snappishly.

  The badger began tipping the ingredients in the pot as he spoke. ‘A lot more oats to thicken it up, less salt, more greensap milk than water, a good portion of honeycomb, maybe some dried fruit, apple rings, hazelnuts. Don’t let it cook too long, turn it out onto a tray to cool, slice it up in squares and you’ve got good sweet oatcake, best eaten warm from an oven.’

  An instant round of applause went up from the kitchen helpers. The head cook turned on Sunflash, furious at having another experimenting with his porridge. ‘That’s not the way I’d make porridge, Sire. Who taught you to cook, if I may make so bold as to ask?’

  Sunflash finished peeling and coring the apple. ‘Moles and hedgehogs, friend – the best cooks I ever knew. See this apple? Stuff the corehole with candied chestnuts and a dribble of honey, bake it in the oven, then serve it piping hot with meadowcream – ever tried it?’

  The cook thrust out his chin defiantly. ‘No! And what’s more I wouldn’t want to!’