Outcast Of Redwall

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Outcast Of Redwall Page 29

by Brian Jacques


  Togget was staggered by the might of their gold-striped friend. ‘Yurr, ee be’s a gurt strong un, oi feels loik a liddle pebble bein’ chucked abowt, hurr, ee’m gentle tho’!’

  Duskskin cautioned the mole to be silent. ‘Quiet now, quiet. Foebeasts are not far above us, far above us.’

  Unfortunately Swartt had already heard them, as the echoes of their voices bounced up from the lower galleries. Since Veil had opened the door at the mountaintop, there was a fair-sized shaft of light beaming down. Swartt looked up, judging the distance he had left to climb, an idea forming in his mind. He chose the rat he had chastised and three others – two stoats and another rat, all armed with bows.

  Keeping his voice to a bare minimum the warlord whispered, ‘You four stop here awhile, and take care o’ any bats or small beasts that’re followin’ behind. I’ll be up on the mountaintop with the others. Come an’ join us there when the coast’s clear down ’ere. That’s a nice soft job for ye, eh!’

  Silently Swartt led the other vermin off towards the high exit.

  Sunflash had just placed Togget on a rocky outcrop above his head when an arrow came hissing down like a snake and struck the mole in his shoulder. Swiftly the badger lifted the mole down and placed him alongside Bryony, saying, ‘He’s been wounded, take care of him and don’t make a sound!’ Then, laying aside his mace, Sunflash selected two good-sized throwing rocks and popped his head out into full view. The rat saw him and fumbled to get shaft onto bowstring as Sunflash flung a rock, hard and accurately.

  Thud!

  It struck the rat, knocking him off his perch. Silently he fell, bumping off ledges until he was swallowed up into the dark void of Bat Mountpit. Far below there was a splash.

  A stoat showed himself, not far from where the rat had been. ‘Wot’s ’appened to Buskit? Anybeast seeeeeeeee!’ The second rock knocked him flying into space.

  The remaining stoat and rat glimpsed the great striped head as the badger stooped to pick up more rocks, and panic gripped them.

  ‘Let’s get outta ’ere, mate, it’s the badger!’

  Stumbling against each other, they scrabbled upwards towards the hole. Bats flew out, attacking them as they climbed.

  Sunflash turned to Bryony and the Bat Lord. ‘Stop here and tend to Togget. I’ve got to catch those two before they raise the alarm. Don’t try to come out onto the mountain until I give you the all clear!’

  Leaving his mace, Sunflash sped off after the two vermin, heaving his huge frame upward, paw over paw. His legendary swiftness had not deserted him; swinging from rock to ledge, jumping and pulling himself upward, the Badger Lord pursued the pair. The rat was scrambling up a smooth stone incline when the relentless paw of Sunflash grabbed his tail and swung him off. He fell, screeching.

  Outside, the shades of twilight were beginning to fall. Swartt strode around the plateau, watching as his remaining hordebeasts sent rocks, arrows, spears and slabs of shale hurtling down the mountainsides, to batter the gallant but beleaguered hares, who were still striving to climb up and reach the foebeast. Veil stumped to the edge, staggering under the weight of a jagged slab. He burled it gleefully down and dusted off his paws.

  ‘Wot’s the matter, scared o’ gettin’ y’self dirty?’ he said insultingly to Swartt. ‘Huh, some Warlord you are, I’ve seen more action from a squashed frog!’

  ‘I dunno about squashed frogs,’ Swartt gritted back angrily, ‘but you’ll be a squashed ferret if y’talk like that to me, spindleshanks!’

  The Warlord left his vermin to their own devices. Crouching next to the opening, he listened intently. He heard the screech of the rat and then the agonized yelling of the remaining stoat as Sunflash caught up with him. Swartt chanced a quick peek into the opening and saw Sunflash, head bowed as he pulled himself upward. It was too good a chance to miss!

  Swartt grabbed a big rugged slab of shale with both paws and raised it above his head, rushing to the far side of the opening, so he would be behind Sunflash when he emerged. He was only just in time – the Badger Lord came up so fast that he was halfway out of the hole before Swartt came to a standstill. The Warlord brought the rock crashing down on the back of the badger’s skull, hitting him so hard that it broke the slab into two pieces. Sunflash fell senseless, half in and half out of the hole. Swartt yelled to his hordebeasts, ‘Grab him, get some rope! Pull him out of there and bind him tight! I’ve got the badger!’

  * * *

  44

  Down on the rocky outcrop, Togget gritted his teeth bravely. ‘Hoo urr, oi diddent know arrers ’urted so much.’

  Bryony inspected the barbed point of the shaft she had removed from her molefriend’s shoulder. ‘Hmm, at least it’s not poisoned. You’re a lucky mole. Lie still and let Lord Duskskin’s bats see to the wound.’

  Togget watched as several bats gathered round him. They stopped the bleeding with skeins of spiderweb, binding the arrow hole with mountain moss and a paste made from some strange type of cave fungus.

  The mole swigged deep from a pitcher of lilac-coloured liquid. ‘Umm, this do taste noice, ee flyen mouses be guddbeasts!’

  The bats’ hissing laughter sounded like escaping steam. ‘Flying mouses! Hihihihiss! Did you hear that, Lord Duskskin? The funnybeast calls us flying mouses, flying mouses!’

  Lord Duskskin glanced up anxiously. ‘It grows dark, dark. The mighty one has not called you, mousemaid. What is happening, happening?’

  Bryony curtsied politely to the Bat Lord. ‘Sire, will you and your creatures take care of Togget until I return? I must go and see what is happening.’

  The only protection Bryony had was the small knife that had been in their haversack. Gripping it firmly in her teeth, she began climbing slowly towards the exit hole.

  A fire glowed in the centre of the plateau on the mountaintop. Sentries posted around the edge watched for any movement of the hares during the night. Not far from the fire lay Sunflash the Mace, still unconscious. The badger was bound between two broken spearshafts driven into the surface cracks, footpaws out straight and his forepaws stretched behind his head, the ropes cutting cruelly into them.

  Swartt sat by the fire, hardening an ash javelin point in its flames. Veil crouched the other side of the blaze, watching the warlord. ‘So, after many long seasons you’ve finally caught your enemy,’ he said.

  Swartt rubbed the smoking javelin end against a rock until it was like the tip of a great, dark brown needle, and snarled, ‘Aye, many, many long seasons, longer than you’ve lived, brat!’

  Veil enjoyed baiting Swartt. ‘Just shows how clumsy you are, that badger’d ’ave been slain all those long seasons ago if he was my enemy.’

  The Warlord smiled, refusing to rise to the bait. ‘Addlebrain, ’ow many enemies have you ever ’ad, eh?’

  Veil stared hard across the fire at Swartt. ‘Oh, don’t you worry, I’ve got a great enemy – the coward I’ve never called father, the slimy scum who ran off an’ left me on a battlefield when I was scarce able to walk. Now that’s an enemy whose grave I’ll dance on an’ laugh at!’

  Swartt pointed the javelin at the inert form of the badger. ‘Try it an’ you’ll die like this one will tomorrow, long an’ slow, bit by bit, until he screams for me t’finish it!’

  Bryony raised her head slowly and carefully, noting every detail of the terrible scene on the plateau, from the sentries and the two ferrets at the fire, to the stillbound badger between two spearshafts. She knew she had to save Sunflash at any cost. Inching silently from the hole she flattened herself against the rocks and began squirming forward, the knifeblade gripped tight in her teeth. The mousemaid kept herself behind Swartt’s back, shielding her body from the fireglow and Veil. All the sentries were looking down the mountain, one or two slumbering fitfully.

  Something clacked faintly against Bryony’s paw; it was a beaker, half full of whatever some hordebeast had been drinking. She paused; neither ferret had heard her over the crackle of the fire. Picking up the beaker, she cir
cled, keeping on Sunflash’s right side and out of the ferrets’ vision. Inching stealthily forward the mousemaid reached Sunflash. Dark crusted blood stained the gold-striped muzzle; the Badger Lord lay quite still, his mouth slightly open. Holding the beaker up, almost too afraid to breathe, Bryony let the liquid trickle into Sunflash’s mouth. Nothing happened for a moment, then the badger coughed and grunted. His head came up slightly, knocking the beaker askew so that the remaining liquid splashed in his face.

  Bryony felt the shaft of the javelin strike her hard across her back. She was knocked flat.

  ‘Hahah! Gotcher, mouse! What’re y’doin’ ’ere?’

  Swartt seized her roughly and dragged the mousemaid upright. Sunflash was coughing and gagging on the liquid trapped in his throat as Veil came racing around the fire.

  ‘Yer scummy liddle sneak, you was tryin’ to set ’im loose!’ Swartt roared.

  Veil struck Swartt hard in the face, tearing the captive from his grasp. ‘Bryony, get out of ’ere. Run!’

  Swartt flung himself on Veil and, while the ferrets fought, Bryony ran to where the knife had fallen from her mouth. Grabbing it, she began hacking at the ropes binding the Badger Lord’s paws, screaming, ‘Get up! Sunflash! Get up!’

  Swartt threw his son down and raised his javelin for a throw he could not miss. ‘The badger’s mine!’ he yelled.

  Bryony turned and saw him throw the javelin. Something blurred across the front of her, shouting, ‘Leave ’er alone! Uuuuuhh!’

  Then Veil lay across her footpaws, the javelin protruding horribly where it had exited at his back. Bryony opened her mouth, but no scream would issue forth.

  As Swartt ran forward, clawing at his sword, there was an earsplitting roar.

  ‘Eeulaliaaaaaa!’

  Both spearhafts snapped like twigs as Sunflash shot up from the rocks like a thunderbolt, eyes crimson, teeth bared, the ropes bursting as his huge chest swelled and he flung his paws apart. The sentries turned and, standing like frozen statues, they watched the awful conflict between Warlord and Mountain Lord.

  Swartt’s curved blade flickered in the firelight as he struck, gashing his enemy’s side. Then he raised the sword and swung it a second time, aiming at Sunflash’s head. Two great paws caught the blade in mid-air; the berserk badger tightened his grip on the blade, regardless of the blood that flowed as he did, the warrior spirit of his ancestors rising. The ferret stood open-mouthed as the badger snapped the swordblade, the sharp metallic clang echoing around the mountaintop. Still grasping both halves of the sword, Sunflash came forward with a bound, whirling both paws. He struck Swartt a blow that sounded like a plank hitting a rotten fruit. The force of the blow was so great that Swartt’s footpaws left the ground, and he fell poleaxed. Nobeast could come near Sunflash the Mace; filled with the bloodwrath he seized the ferret in a grip of steel. Heaving Swartt high over his head, Sunflash stood at the plateau edge, bellowing as he flung his enemy out into the night.

  ‘Eeulaliaaaaaaaaaa!’

  The terrified sentries who had clambered over the plateau edge slid down the shale and scree on their tails. They were met by the vengeful hares of the Long Patrol, who had been racing upwards since the first sounds of combat from above.

  Helped by several bats, Togget emerged onto the plateau and hurried to Bryony’s side. The mousemaid was sitting with Veil’s head resting in her lap. The young ferret’s eyes were clouding over, his breath was hoarse and shallow; almost from the gates of Dark Forest he heard Bryony’s voice echoing: ‘Oh Veil, my Veil! You saved me . . . Why?’

  ‘Go . . . back to your Abbey . . . shouldn’t ’ave followed me . . . Go ’way . . . let me sleep!’

  Bryony rocked him gently as she had done when he was a babe. The young ferret closed his eyes.

  Thus ended the lives of father and son: Swartt Sixclaw the Warlord, and Veil Sixclaw the Outcast.

  * * *

  45

  Three days they camped on the river’s edge at the foot of Bat Mountpit, the full hospitality of Duskskin and his bats at their disposal. Wounds were dressed and weary limbs rested; they were brought fresh fruit, white mushrooms that had never seen the light of day, caveshrimp, and many other strange delicacies from the depths of the curious realm within the mountains.

  Sunflash kept making Bryony and Togget repeat anything they knew of his mother, Bella of Brockhall, the great silver badger. He marvelled that she was still living and kept repeating her name over and over. ‘Bella, Bella, I must see her, I will go to Redwall with you.’

  For the first time in three days, the mousemaid smiled. ‘What with my injured back, your cracked skull and Togget’s wounded shoulder, we should just about make up one whole creature to go walking through Redwall’s gates.’

  Sunflash gave orders to his Long Patrol. ‘Sabretache, you and Colonel Sandgall will command all at Salamandastron until my return. On your way back, search and find my hawk Skarlath, take him to the mountain and bury him high on a sunny slope, overlooking the sea. Rockleg and Fleetrunn, you will accompany me and our friends to Redwall Abbey.’

  Lord Duskskin called them from the edge of the cave entrance. ‘You will leave tonight, tonight. My scouts will go with you and guide you, guide you. I have sent out requests to my friends, friends. The Pollspike raft awaits you two days hence, two days hence. Go in peace, in peace!’

  A full moon hung like a burnished shield in skies of deep velvet blue, watching the friends making their goodbyes. Togget had become very fond of the bats and promised he would return to visit them someday. ‘Hurr, you’m watch owt furr Togget, gudd flyen mouses, burr aye!’

  As they marched off on a secret route, which would take them around the waterfall, hundreds of bats wheeled around them in the night, whispering, ‘Safe seasons, seasons. Goodbye friends, goodbye friends.’

  Skirting the high rocks at dawn, Bryony looked back at the white mist with its rainbow. Sunflash helped her over a small gurgling brook, saying, ‘Thinking of anything special, missie?’

  Bending, the mousemaid let the brookwater run through her paws. ‘Oh yes, sir, I’ll never forget the waterfall as long as I live. It was so beautiful, but so dangerous. I’ll hear those waters in my dreams for many a long season.’

  The going was easy and late summer weather proved pleasant. A leisurely pace was dictated by their healing wounds, and the fact that Sunflash wanted to take cuttings and young plants from practically everywhere. Togget taught Rockleg and Fleetrunn to tug at their noses and speak in a rustic manner. Bryony could scarce stifle her laughter at the two hares and the mole, chewing on long straws and presenting the Badger Lord with the strangest things, as they affected the tone of bumpkins.

  ‘Oo arr, Lordy Sunnyflash, yurr be a wunnerful stone, may’ap if’n ee plant it, ’twill grow into a bootiful pebblebush!’

  Sunflash played them well at their own game, tossing the stone up and batting it out of sight with his mace, aping their speech: ‘Whoi thankee, gaffer Rockleg, p’raps if yon pebble sticks up inna sky ’twill become a shiny star one night!’

  Early in the morning of the third day they arrived at the junction of the river and slipstream. Immediately the bankvole Ilfril poked his head out in high bad temper. ‘D’ye know you’re trespassin’? Who are yer?’

  The metal-studded end of a huge battle mace thudded down near the hole entrance, and Ilfril found himself staring into a great, gold-striped badger’s face, whose voice boomed out: ‘I am Sunflash the Mace, Badger Lord of Salamandastron, and I like a bankvole for breakfast each morn. Who are you?’

  There was a frantic, scuttle of paws as Ilfril fled down into his home, followed by a nervous squeak. ’Er, haha! Just a pore creature who lives down here an’ minds his own business, Lord, feel free to walk anywhere!’

  They sat laughing at the river’s edge, watching the sprawling raft pull up to the bank. Duddle cried out heartily:

  ‘Welcome friends, an’ jump aboard,

  Yore welcome to all we can afford,

&
nbsp; There’s the wife, two liddle uns an’ meself,

  An’ plenty o’ vittles upon the shelf!’

  Arundo came dashing from the hut in the centre of the raft. He stared in awe at the badger, and said, ‘Can I jump on yore thtomach, thir?’

  Rockleg winked at the little hedgehog. ‘Of course you can, ole chap, as long as y’let Lord Sunflash jump on yore stomach first, wot?’

  Clematis Roselea came out to wag a paw at them. ‘You know what will happen if my mama catches any of you jumpin’ on each other’s stomachs?’

  Togget smiled and nodded. ‘Aye, she’m cutten our tails off’n us wi’ a single swipe, missie!’

  Arundo confirmed this with a chopping sweep of his tiny paw. ‘Thingle thwipe, thtraight off!’

  Immediately they were aboard, Duddle cast off and lashed the tiller in position. Introductions were made all round and a happy band of voyagers retired to the cabinhut, for a celebration breakfast.

  Bryony thought the cabin seemed smaller, though it was only the massive presence of Sunflash within the confined space that created this impression. Even though the fragrant aromas arising from the stove in tantalizing wisps set his mouth to watering, Duddle Pollspike felt it was his duty to first make an announcement.

  ‘Ahem! Good creatures all, before my goodwife Tutty an’ m’self serve vittles, allow me to inform you about our course. I have charted a network of navigable waterways which will take us close to Redwall Abbey. So do not be alarmed, friends, you are in good an’ capable paws. Now, my liddle riverplum, let us show these pore starvelings what a floatin’ banquet looks like . . .’

  Duddle was about to say more, when Tutty raised a ladle ominously. ‘Faith an’ fishgills, you ole windbag, are you goin’ to blather on ’til suppertime? Stir yore stumps afore I chop yore tail off!’

 

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