Sabretache leapt over the carcass of the dead seer, following the trampled undergrowth to where the badger lay, too exhausted to rise and shaking with grief, now that the bloodwrath had left him.
‘Skarlath,’ he wept. ‘Skarlath, my true friend.’
The hare sheathed his blade, speaking low to his followers. ‘Camp here tonight, it’ll be twilight soon. Rockleg, Fleetrunn; attend to Lord Sunflash, rebind his wounds. Hedgepaw, see if you can fetch some clean water from the stream, the rest of you stand easy. We’ll pick up the ferret’s trail at dawn.’
Refreshed by his rest in the woods while waiting on the results of the ambush, Swartt drove his band hard. Soon after dawn he came across a wide river flowing down through the trees. Halting his band for a short rest he drank sparingly and waded in to test the depth of the water. The weasel called Grayjaw waded into the shallows beside him. ‘It looks deep in the middle, Chief. Wonder where this river goes?’
Swartt was not listening. He was facing upstream, staring at the green slopes of the distant mountains.
‘Up on yer paws, you idlers,’ he shouted to the horde. ‘That’s where we’re bound, the mountains upriver. Stay in the shallows, stick t’the water, it’ll make trackin’ difficult fer the badger. Come on!’
Grayjaw splashed alongside the Warlord. ‘But Chief, what about Nightshade, you said she’d be able to follow our trail?’
Swartt looked pityingly at the weasel. ‘If the vixen was goin’ to catch us up she’d ’ave done it durin’ the night. Ferget that one, I’m more concerned about that badger an’ his hares. If we can make it t’those mountains I’ll think up a good plan to deal with ’em.’
Sunflash and the Long Patrol were a day behind Swartt and his band. They arrived at the river in the late evening and made camp on the bank.
Sabretache inspected the bruised and broken overhead foliage of the trees that dipped to the water’s edge. ‘Hmm, about a score an’ five of ’em, tryin’ t’put us off the trail by takin’ to the water. See here – willow branch cracked, leaves bruised an’ damaged on that rowan further along. Hmph! One of ’em even stepped ashore for a while an’ left a few pawprints on the bank edge, see, a stoat.’
Sunflash had waded in almost waist deep, wanting to feel the cold current pushing against him. He stared up at the mountains, distant in the gathering dusk of the dry summer day. ‘We’ll take only a short rest now and travel by night,’ he said. ‘It’s cooler and we don’t need to track any longer. Swartt has gone to the mountains, I feel it in me. When he attacked Salamandastron I thought we would meet there, but it was not to be. Still, one mountain is as good as another when there’s a score to be settled with a sixclawed ferret!’
* * *
42
Bryony regained her senses in a pale flickering world. Somewhere close by, the sounds of the waterfall carried to her, echoing all around. She was draped across a rock slab, up to her waist in water. Togget’s face was next to hers; he was still unconscious, but breathing slowly. Surprised that she was still alive, the mousemaid stood swaying groggily with the water lapping gently around her. As she heaved Togget’s limp body up onto the rock, she noticed that the lifeline had held. Unfastening it from both their waists Bryony coiled the line and shouldered it.
She climbed up on the rock slab alongside the mole and took stock of their surroundings. It was a gigantic cavern inside the mountain. Redwall Abbey would have easily fitted into it with room to spare. The waterfall formed a broad river, dotted with rock islands and natural stepping stones. Luminosity from the river flickered all round, forming shifting liquid light patterns on the high rock walls and surfaces. It was a timeless world where neither night nor day held sway, forever bathed in its own pale radiance, constantly echoing to the sound of water everywhere, flowing, falling or trickling.
Their food haversack came floating gently by. Bryony hooked it out and emptied the contents onto the rock slab. The fruit was all right; she wiped off an apple and took a bite.
Togget stirred, opening his eyes slowly. ‘Yurr, be this place Dark Forest? ’Tain’t loik oi ’magined et t’be. Broinee, be us’n’s dead or still a livin’?’
The mousemaid chuckled and unstoppered a flask of dandelion and burdock cordial. She passed it to Togget, who sat up blinking like an owl and drank deeply. ‘Hoourr! That’s betterer, missie. Yurr us’n’s shorely landed en a roight strange burrow.’
The mousemaid relieved him of the flask. ‘Well at least we’re still alive. Most of our food is ruined by the water, though – a bit of fruit and this cordial seems to be all we have. Rest a while here, then we’ll search for Veil. If we’ve survived the waterfall then I’m sure he did.’
Togget wrung moisture from his tunic. ‘Burr, wot if’n ee diddent survoive?’
The mousemaid was unwilling to contemplate such an idea. ‘Don’t say that, Togget. He is alive, I’m almost certain he is.’
The faithful mole shook his velvety head. ‘Hurr, Broinee, you’m wasten yore loif a chasen after yon furret, ee’m a badbeast an’ will bring you’m nought but ’arm!’
Bryony packed what little food was still edible into the wet haversack and started the search. ‘Veil wasn’t always bad. Remember when he was a tiny Dibbun? He was such a nice babe. He’ll change one day, you’ll see.’
Splash!
A large rock hit the water nearby. ‘He’ll change! He’ll change!’ a voice echoed eerily. ‘Hahaha! Are you fools still followin’ me?’
Bryony whirled and looked upward. Veil was standing on a ledge behind them, the luminescent light playing oddly across his face. He waved a crimsoned paw at them and vanished into a dark crack in the cave wall.
Bryony clambered over the wet rocks, with Togget following. She shouted as she made her way to the spot where Veil had been. ‘Wait, Veil, please wait for us! He’s alive, Togget, I knew it!’ The crack turned out to be a concealed entrance to a winding tunnel. Hurriedly the two friends pursued Veil into the dank musty darkness.
The young ferret crouched in a niche, hidden from Bryony and Togget. They dashed by, bumping and stumbling blindly, trying to catch up, as they thought, with Veil. Sniggering silently to himself, the ferret listened to their footpaws recede down the dark tunnel. It had been easy to trick them. He made his way back out onto the ledge, intending to run off and leave them searching the winding tunnel for him.
Then he noticed the slab. It was a broad, heavy oblong of rock precariously perched higher up on the brink of another ledge. Veil climbed nimbly up to it, and found that he had only to lean on the slab and it rocked. Rubbing his paws together delightedly, he began rocking the big flat piece of stone. The harder he pressed and jerked both paws on it, the more it rocked. With a groan it slid forward and downward a little. Veil could hear Bryony and Togget calling him; they were obviously coming back to the tunnel entrance. He jumped wildly on the tilting rock, bouncing up and down for all he was worth; the rock wobbled perilously on the brink of the ledge, inching forward, then it went altogether. Veil threw himself from the teetering slab; sitting down hard on the ledge he watched the stone slip over the edge. It slid down, stopping only when it reached the lower ledge, blocking the crack which formed the tunnel entrance. The ferret’s face was a picture of fiendish delight as he climbed down to survey his work.
The slab was wedged immovably into the crack, sealing the tunnel. He leaned his back against it, laughing. ‘Hahaha! Now try an’ follow me, Abbey oafs!’
He could hear the frantic scratching from the other side of the slab. Bryony’s voice was shocked and reproving. ‘Veil! What have you done? Let us out of here. Please!’
The young ferret turned and walked away. ‘Why don’t yer try movin’ it with kindness? Goodbye an’ good riddance to the both of yer!’
‘That was neatly done!’
The big lean ferret, surrounded by a score or more heavily armed vermin, stood paw on swordhilt watching Veil. He came forward, walking around the young ferret, inspecting him curiously
from ear to footpaw.
‘Friends of yores, were they?’ he said.
Veil eyed the other coolly. ‘Don’t have friends – they were my enemies!’
One or two of the vermin hordebeasts, who had followed Swartt since the early days, began nudging each other and nodding towards the two ferrets. Apart from their age difference they were almost identical, the one being almost a younger edition of the elder.
Swartt fixed the young ferret with his piercing gaze. ‘What’s yer name, an’ how did y’get ’ere?’
The young ferret stared boldly back at the Warlord. ‘I came in over the waterfall; they call me Veil Sixclaw the Outcast!’
There was an audible gasp from the hordebeasts as Veil continued, ‘I know who you are, you’re Swartt Sixclaw the Warlord!’
They stood with their eyes locked, staring each other down.
Swartt smiled mirthlessly, his voice heavy with sarcasm. ‘Yer a hardfaced brat, aren’t yer? Veil – who gave you a name like that?’
Before Veil could reply, Grayjaw came splashing along from the far end of the cave, shouting, ‘Chief! The badger an’ those hares are comin’ upriver, they’ll be ’ere in a couple of hours!’
Swartt pointed to the ledges and craggy galleries leading into the darkness overhead. ‘C’mon, let’s see which way that takes us!’
Veil stood in Swartt’s path. ‘What about me? I can fight.’
The Warlord brushed him aside contemptuously. ‘Stay out o’ my way, brat, I got enough trouble t’deal with!’
Veil smiled thinly. ‘Aye, so it seems. Looks like the badger defeated yer an’ yer on the run. Huh, some Warlord!’
Swartt almost lost his balance. Stung by the insult, he shot a venomous glare at the young ferret as he began climbing. ‘Step careful around me, whelp – a smart tongue could be the death of yer!’
* * *
43
Sabretache stood out in the shallows, peering at the dark, shaded cave where the river exited from the mountain. He signalled to Rockleg and Fleetrunn. ‘Scout it out, chaps, go easy, see the villain hasn’t laid any traps, ambushes or nasty surprises.’
The hares sat on the bank, making a hasty meal whilst they awaited the return of the Long Patrol scouts. Sunflash sat apart from them, the food by his paw untouched, two great rivulets scored deep from eye to jaw where his tears had run. Bradberry sat next to Sabretache, watching the Badger Lord from the corner of his eye.
Sunflash took a leaf, split it and pressed it to his lips, then he blew, producing a long, high-pitched whistling sound, then he dropped the leaf and watched it float away downriver. A great shuddering sigh ran through him as he buried his gold-striped face in both paws.
Bradberry whispered to the hare Captain, ‘What did he do that for?’
‘That was the way he called Skarlath sometimes, old lad. They were t’gether a jolly long time, doncha know. It’ll take some seasons before he stops grievin’, poor chap.’
It was not long before the scouts were back. They reported the way clear. Weapons drawn, the hares entered the cave, wading through the river with Sunflash in the lead. Once inside the scouts went ahead again. Sunflash and the others gathered on a rock islet in midriver. Standing silently, they stared into the pale, eerie stillness of the huge cavern.
Sabretache drew his blade. ‘Hist! What’s that noise?’
It was a clack clacking sound, as if somebeast were knocking one rock against another. Bradberry murmured to Hedgepaw, ‘It could be them, layin’ a trap for us, maybe. Where’s the sound comin’ from?’
Hedgepaw looked about and shrugged. ‘Hard t’say, too much echo an’ waternoise in here. I say, is that Rockleg an’ Fleetrunn comin’ back?’
Rockleg made his report to Sunflash. ‘Thumpin’ great waterfall back there, they never went that way.’
Sunflash looked up at the high ledges and galleries winding away into the darkness above, and nodded. ‘Then they’re in here somewhere. Sabretache, take the Long Patrol outside and climb to the top of the mountain. It’s my guess that’s where Swartt will be making for. I’ll stay in here and find my way up from the inside; we may be able to trap them in between us. Those are my orders. Go!’
The hare Captain saw it was useless arguing, but he tried. ‘Sire, p’raps you’d best take Rockleg an’ Fleetrunn with you.’
The Badger Lord splashed into the water and began wading to the side of the cave where the ledges began. ‘I’ll be all right on my own. Do as I say!’
Sabretache decided it was better not to argue further.
When the hares had gone, Sunflash stopped a moment. The clacking noise could still be heard echoing amid the watersounds of the cavern. He climbed onto the first ledge and the sound seemed to grow closer. Moving along the natural rock step he stopped by a large slab.
Clack! Clack! Clack!
Sunflash pressed his muzzle to a narrow crack between the slab and the ledge. ‘Is there somebeast there?’ he shouted.
The noise stopped and a voice called back, ‘Burr aye, thurr be two of us’n’s trapped en yurr!’
The badger gave the rock a few solid thumps with his paw. He felt a very slight movement. ‘I’ll try and get you out of there, stand back!’
Climbing onto the ledge above, Sunflash found he could reach the top of the slab with both footpaws. Bracing his back, he pressed his full weight upon the slab and began pushing outward. The slab keeled forward then jammed. ‘I’ve pushed the top away a bit,’ he called down. ‘Climb up the slab, you should be able to squeeze out over the top. Here, get hold of this.’
Holding his mace upside down, he thrust it in the space with the handle cord dangling down. Bryony’s voice reached him. ‘I’ve got it – can you give me a tug out, please?’
Sunflash hauled her swiftly out. Togget took a bit longer because of his plumpness, but he finally popped out like a round furry stopper.
As introductions were being made, there was a screech and something splashed into the river. Sunflash waded in, and came out carrying a bat with an arrow piercing its wing.
Bryony came forward to help him. ‘Oh the poor creature, lay him down here, sir!’ she cried.
Fortunately the shaft had done no great damage, merely piercing the filmy wing membrane. Bryony snapped the shaft and drew the end carefully out, speaking gently. ‘There, that didn’t hurt, did it. You’ll soon be as good as new when it heals.’
The bat bared its small fangs, in what appeared to be a smile, thanking the mousemaid in a soft sibilant whisper. ‘My thanks, thanks. I am Lord Duskskin, ruler of Bat Mountpit, Mountpit. Up above is my territory, territory. Wicked creatures are there, they are armed, armed, my bats can do nothing against them, nothing against them.’
Duskskin gave them a brief description of his encounter with Swartt and the hordebeasts, with his curious, echoing speech. Sunflash interrupted him. ‘The vermin are my enemies. I am sworn to slay them. Can you show us the way up to where they are, Lord Duskskin?’
The ruler of Bat Mountpit blinked his tiny pinpoint eyes. ‘You are a mightybeast, carry me, carry me, I will show you.’
High above in the far upper reaches of the mountain a dozen or more bat corpses littered the rock ledges. Swartt and his beasts had stopped to rest briefly, ducking their heads as angry bats homed in on them. A rat let fly an arrow and it bounced off the stones, dropping out of sight into the dizzying chasm below.
Veil watched the rat notch another shaft to his bow. ‘Do you always let them waste arrows like that upon creatures that can’t harm yer?’ he sneered.
Swartt aimed a glancing blow at a passing bat. ‘Keep yer mouth shut, brat, ’cos if a bat don’t fly down it then my blade will!’
Veil looked up at the slender shaft of sunlight coming from somewhere above them. ‘Well, you sit ’ere thinkin’ up clever insults an’ lettin’ these wall-eyed idiots waste their arrows. I’m climbin’ up ahead to see where that light’s comin’ from.’
Swartt snarled, half drawing his swor
d as Veil pushed past him. The young ferret grabbed a hefty chunk of rock and tossed it threateningly from paw to paw. ‘Draw that blade an’ I’ll let daylight into yer skull!’
Swartt did not attempt to pull his sword out; he sneered upward as Veil began climbing. ‘Hah! Big talk fer a pup still wet be’ind the ears. Once I’m done wid the badger I’ll fix you, that’s a promise!’
Veil smiled easily down from a crag he had just surmounted. ‘Talk’s cheap, deadpaw – we’ll see who fixes who in the end!’ Without a backward glance he continued his ascent.
The rat was about to fire another arrow, when Swartt laid him flat with a blow from his chainmailed sixclaw. ‘Stop wastin’ those shafts, maggotbrain, you couldn’t hit the sea if you was standin’ on the edge of the shore!’
Youthful agility soon brought Veil up to the source of the light. It was coming from a knothole of a small timber door set into the rock. Pulling aside the bar that held it closed, he kicked the door open and crawled out. Blinking in the sunlight, Veil found himself looking down from the mountaintop. He walked around a flat plateau.
Far below the hares could be seen, toiling upward through the steep, bush and shale coated mountainside. It was but the work of a moment for Veil to tumble loose chunks and slabs of the shale down at them. He watched, sniggering like a malicious Dibbun, as the missiles started up small avalanches of loose scree and rock. Hares dived for cover and hung on to the deeper rooted bushes, helpless because of the distance and unable to return arrow, slingstone or javelin at their tormentor. Veil chuckled to himself; this was real power. He loosened more slabs and watched them hurtle and bounce off down the slopes in clouds of reddish dust. The young ferret wished fervently that it might have been Redwallers and not hares that he held at his mercy.
Meanwhile, Sunflash climbed stealthily up through the rocky galleries, holding the Bat Lord Duskskin on one shoulder and listening to his whispering repetitive directions. Bryony and Togget were no trouble; the big badger lifted them up onto the rocks ahead, one in each paw, as if they weighed nothing at all.
Outcast Of Redwall Page 28