His companions shook their heads vehemently.
‘How could any Redwaller murder a fallen beast, vermin or not?’
‘None of us have ever taken a life, and I don’t think we’re about to now. Huh, we’ve got ourselves into a right mess here.’
Drogg decided to take charge. ‘We can’t just leave him lyin’ here. Does that ole wheelbarrow by the orchard still work, Broggle?’
The squirrel nodded. ‘I think so. What’s your plan?’
For no apparent reason, Drogg dropped his voice to a whisper. ‘Go an’ get it. There’s a little cellar door, where I brings in wood for barrels an’ tools. It leads through to my cellars. We’ll take him through there an’ lock him up in my supply room. Then we can make up a story about how we caught the rogue. I think Cregga an’ Mhera will be glad to have a hostage to bargain off against the rest o’ the vermin.’
Tagg regained consciousness in complete darkness. At first he thought he had gone blind. Lying on a hard stone floor, he brought his paw up in front of his eyes, but he could not see it. Panic set in and despite the abominable aching inside his skull, he sat up. Relief flooded through him when the sight of a pale thin strip of light from beneath a door assured him his eyesight was not gone. With extreme caution he stood upright and began to investigate his prison cell. Holding both paws high he leaped in the air and barely touched the beam of a ceiling. He landed, sending an agonising jolt through his head. Stone floors and stone walls, with a single door which felt as solid as the rest of the place and would not budge a fraction. Then he bumped into something and went sprawling. He felt it gingerly, and made out a huge barrel-shaped structure. Putting his weight against it, he shoved. It moved fractionally, and a swishing sound came from within. It was a barrel, and almost full to its brim. He felt around it for some kind of stopper, and found a wooden bung. However, it had been firmly hammered home and was immovable. Dizzy with the effort, he felt the back of his head, where there was a sizeable lump and a minute dampness of blood. Pain enveloped him, and he slumped down on the floor and allowed his body to drift into a half stunned sleep in the silent gloom.
Eefera and Vallug crouched in the ditch across the path from the main outer gate. Gruven, Dagrab and Rawback had made slings and collected heaps of pebbles. Vallug had an arrow laid across his bowstring, and several more were stuck point down in the ditchbed, close to paw. Eefera gave the orders.
‘You three just keep slingin’ stones over the wall. I’ll tell ye when t’stop. Vallug, keep yore bow at the ready. Righto, me buckos, get slingin’!’
Nimbalo lay to one side, still out to the world, but breathing.
Egburt came marching into the infirmary, where Cregga and Mhera were drinking medicine beakers of cordial with Fwirl and chuckling over some private joke. The young hedgehog saluted smartly and proceeded to make his report in hare style.
‘Ahem, sorry to intrude like this, marms, but the jolly old door was open, so I tootled in, wot!’
Cregga turned her face to him. ‘Young Egburt, eh? Well you can just tootle out again and get on with commanding the wallguard.’
Egburt put on his sternest face, which was wasted on Cregga. ‘It’s about the wallguard I’ve come, marm. Confounded vermin are slingin’ stones over like spring rain. So I’ve ordered the guards to stand down an’ get themselves inside under cover, wot!’
Mhera threw up her paws in dismay. ‘You’ve left the walls unguarded, Egburt? That’s an excee—’
Her speech was cut short by the sound of breaking glass from downstairs. An extra long shot had obviously hit one of Great Hall’s large stained glass windows.
Mhera bounded for the door, calling back, ‘Stay there. I’ll see what’s going on down below!’
Cregga shuffled after her. ‘You two stay here. I’m going down too.’
Fwirl tried to hoist herself out of bed, but Egburt shoved her firmly back and gave her his commander’s glare. ‘You’re not even walkin’ wounded, miz. Best stay put. I’ll send Broggle up to sit with you.’
Sister Alkanet appeared in the doorway. ‘You certainly will not. I’ll say who comes and goes here!’
Egburt bowed his head and threw six swift salutes. ‘Er, quite, er, mister sarm, I mean Sister marm, I’ll just, er, tootle off, wot!’
Alkanet stood, paws akimbo, blocking his way. ‘Why are you talking in that silly manner? You’re not a hare.’
Egburt kept saluting and trying to squirm by the Sister. ‘Only temporarily, marm, sort of harehog, or a hedgehare y’may say . . .’
The severe Sister placed a paw against Egburt’s snout. ‘Hmm, dry and quite hot, probably with dashing up and down those wallstairs all the time. A good physick should cure that!’
Nimbalo came awake suddenly. He lay in the ditch, unmoving, his eyes riveted on the battleaxe which stood leaning against the ditchside next to Dagrab. She turned and saw him.
‘The mouse ‘as come round! Look, ’e’s awake!’
Vallug drew back the shaft upon his bowstring and leaned forward. The arrowpoint was less than a pawslength from Nimbalo’s face.
‘Move jus’ a whisker an’ yore dead, mouse. I couldn’t miss from ’ere if’n I wanted to. Eefera, tie ’im up.’
As Eefera bound Nimbalo’s paws behind him, the harvest mouse’s eyes shifted from the battleaxe to Dagrab. His voice was calm but deadly cold as he addressed the rat.
‘Is that yore axe?’
Dagrab fitted another stone to her sling. ‘Aye, ’tis. D’yer like it, mousey, eh?’
Vallug stamped on Dagrab’s tail. ‘Less o’ the jawin’ an’ more o’ the slingin’!’
Dagrab began whirling her sling as Nimbalo spoke again. ‘I’m goin’ to slay you with that axe, rat!’
The stone clacked sharply against Dagrab’s paw. She had forgotten to throw it in astonishment at the harvest mouse’s flat statement. Vallug stamped harder on her tail. ‘Keep slingin’, I said! I want those Redwallers to think we got a pile o’ clanbeasts out ’ere, not just you dozy loafers!’
Eefera checked Nimbalo’s bonds to make sure they were tight. ‘So then, bucko, wot do they call you?’
Nimbalo looked at him as if he were dirt. ‘My name’s Nimbalo the Slayer, as that there rat’s soon goin’ to find out. Wot do they call you, maggot breath?’
Vallug threw back his head and laughed. ‘Hoho, we got a feisty one ’ere. Tell me, mousey, wot d’ye know about an otter they call the Taggerung?’
Nimbalo directed his scorn at the Bowbeast. ‘A lot more’n you do, slobberchops, but I ain’t tellin’ ye!’
Eefera dealt Nimbalo a stinging blow to the face. ‘Yore insolent. We don’t like that. You’d better tell ’im wot we want ter know, or it’ll be the worse for yer, me liddle ’un!’
Nimbalo licked blood from where the blow had knocked his teeth against his lip. He winked at Eefera. ‘If’n I was yore liddle ’un I’d have killed meself from shame long ago. An’ wot could be worse than sittin’ lookin’ at yore face, yer great shamble-toothed snotnosed excuse for an idiot!’
Vallug had to throw his paws around Eefera to stop him leaping upon the harvest mouse. ‘Leave ’im be fer now. ’E ain’t much use to us dead!’
When Eefera was released he took his spleen out on Gruven, slapping him repeatedly about the face and ears. ‘Who do ye think yore smilin’ at? I’ll wipe the grin off’n yore face. Ye don’t laugh at me an’ get away with it!’
Vallug took a few kicks at Gruven also. When he was allowed to carry on slinging stones, Gruven found himself wishing that he had half the backbone of the little harvest mouse.
Vallug fired an arrow over the wall and roared out his ultimatum. ‘Give us the Taggerung or yer all goin’ to die!’
Tagg awoke in his dungeon with thoughts crowding his mind. Was it night or day? How long had he been here in the pitch dark? Who had clubbed him senseless? When were they going to let him out, or were they just going to keep the door locked and leave him imprisoned here? Where was Nimb
alo? The otter could not remember ever being anywhere where he could not feel the wind on his face, see the sky or walk freely. Stumbling about in the blackness, he found the door and began battering on it with clenched paws, roaring for all he was worth, ‘Let me out! Why have you got me locked up in here! You’ve got no right to imprison me, d’you hear? Let me oooooooouuuuuttt!’
* * *
29
Mhera stood in the Abbey doorway with Cregga. Redwallers crowded behind them, ordered to stay inside. Brother Hoben uttered what Mhera was thinking.
‘Look at those stones. Two vermin couldn’t do that alone. I’m afraid Fwirl made a mistake when she said there were only two.’
Cregga leaned on the doorpost, stroking her striped muzzle. ‘So it seems. How many would you guess there were out there?’
The good Brother shrugged. ‘Who knows, marm? Certainly more than we first thought.’
Mhera made her way to the broken window and climbed on to the redstone sill, gazing out to where the slingstones battered down constantly on to the Abbey lawn. She noticed that they followed a certain pattern, all falling round one central area, apart from the odd long throw, or occasional short casts which landed on the gatehouse path. Gundil peeped over her shoulder, his homely face anxious as he guessed her intent.
‘You’m bain’t a goen owt thurr, mizzy? They’m slingenrocks wudd crack ee skullbones. Stop ee in yurr wi’ us’n’s, noice’n’safe.’
The ottermaid shook her head. Her mind was made up. ‘I’ve got to go out and speak to them, Gundil. We must find out what a Taggerung is. This state of affairs cannot continue; it’s only a matter of time before some Redwaller is slain. Even vermin must realise that they’ve got to communicate with us at some point, if only to clear the whole matter up.’
Gundil raised his digging claws in despair. ‘Ho, lackeeday, bain’t no use a talken to ee, miz, oi’m bounden to go owt thurr with ee!’
‘And so am I. That makes three of us!’
‘Beggin’ y’pardon, marm, but as jolly old rankin’ officer I’m comin’ too, so that makes four, wot!’
Mhera had not noticed Cregga and Egburt below on the floor. She climbed down from the windowsill. ‘There’s no need for you to put yourself in danger.’
Cregga reared to her full height, which was considerable. ‘You seem to forget, Mhera, I am acting Abbess in charge. I would be neglecting my duty if I let you go out there alone.’
Gundil reared to his full height, which was not much at all. ‘Hurr, an’ oi’d be agglectin’ moi dooty to ee. You’m moi friend!’
Mhera patted his velvety head, forestalling Egburt. ‘Don’t tell me. You’d be neglecting your duty as Wallguard Commander if you didn’t accompany me. So we’ll all go together, my good friends. Thank you for your support.’
By now more Redwallers were gathering in Great Hall, and Mhera and Cregga had to fend off their curious enquiries.
‘Egburt said you’re going out to talk with the vermin?’
The badger nodded. ‘Yes, Friar, though I wish he’d kept quiet about it.’
‘D’you need any help out there, Cregga marm?’
‘None, thank you. We’re going to parley, not to fight.’
Broggle, Hoarg and Drogg were holding a whispered meeting.
‘You tell her about our prisoner, Drogg, go on.’
‘Who, me? I’m not much good at explainin’. You tell ’er, Hoarg.’
‘Tell who, Mhera or Cregga?’
‘Either one’ll do. Tell Mhera, she ain’t as fierce as Cregga. Go on!’
‘Er, I wouldn’t know what t’say. I think young Broggle should do all the talkin’. ’Twas his idea in the first place.’
Sister Alkanet was wearing Cregga’s patience thin. ‘That Fwirl, already she wants to get up. Will you come and tell her she must remain in bed until I say!’
Cregga distractedly released a Dibbun who was clinging to her. ‘Sister, leave Fwirl alone if she feels well enough to get up!’
Friar Bobb sounded a touch officious as he cornered Mhera. ‘Will you be back for lunch, miz? Shall I serve it in Cregga’s room for you both, or will you eat in the dining room?’
Mhera already had her paw on the latch of the Abbey door. She looked pleadingly at the Friar. ‘Yes. I mean no. We’ll be back shortly, I hope. We’ll take lunch in the dining room like everybeast; don’t go to any trouble on our behalf, Friar. Now we really must go out there!’
Hoarg and Drogg pushed Broggle forward. In the stress of the moment, his old stammer returned. ‘Er, er, m-miz M-Mhera . . .’
She whirled on him rather sharply. ‘Now what is it?’
Broggle stared guiltily at the floor. ‘I . . . I w-wanted t-to . . .’
Mhera’s patience was close to breaking point when she caught Filorn watching her. The ottermum smiled and shook her head. Mhera bit her lip, and patted Broggle’s back gently.
‘Forgive me, Broggle. I know you’ve got a lot on your mind too. Yes, you can go up and visit Fwirl whenever you like, tell Sister Alkanet I said so. You two have a nice time. G’bye now.’ She kissed Broggle’s cheek and threw the door open. ‘Gundil, Egburt, help our Badgermum, come on. We’ll go along the walltops; there’s no stones falling there. Keep low, though!’
The door slammed and they were gone.
Gruven, Dagrab and Rawback were paw weary, but Eefera and Vallug would not allow them to stop slinging. Eefera flicked at them smartingly with a whippy twig. ‘Cummon, put yer backs into it! Sling those stones ’arder!’
Vallug cupped both paws around his mouth and bellowed, ‘Yer under siege! Give us the Taggerung!’
Nimbalo pulled a face of comic despair. ‘Under siege? Haha, that’s a good ’un. They couldn’t ’it a pond if they was standin’ in it, the picklepawed oafs!’
Eefera slashed at him with the whippy twig. ‘Shut yer mouth, you, or I’ll cut yer tongue out!’
Nimbalo grinned crookedly at Vallug, a long welt on his face causing him to squint. ‘Ain’t yore pal the tough ’un? ’E’s very good at beatin’ bound up prisoners. Wonder if’n ’e’d like to try it with me paws free, eh?’
Vallug grabbed the harvest mouse and heaved him bodily out of the ditch on to the path in front of the Abbey’s main wallgate. ‘Think yore safe in there, don’t ye?’ he shouted out to anybeast who was listening inside. ‘Well lissen t’this. We’ve got one of yore mice ’ere, a prisoner. Name o’ Nimbalo the Slayer. If’n ye don’t give us the Taggerung then Nimbalo’s goin’ to die, nice an’ slow. So make yore minds up!’
Sister Alkanet fixed Broggle with an icy stare. ‘Well, Broggle, I’m surprised at you. Oh, I heard it all. Sneaking and speaking to Mhera behind my back like that. If you wanted to visit Fwirl, you only had to ask me. I’m just trying to do my best by her so she’ll get well soon. It wasn’t very nice of you to go over my head like that!’
Broggle was amazed at the Sister’s accusation. ‘I never went behind your back, Sister. I wasn’t even talking about Fwirl, it was Mhera’s idea for me to visit any time. I wanted to tell her something entirely different. Honestly I did!’
Alkanet narrowed her eyes. ‘Are you telling me the truth?’
Drogg spoke up in his friend’s defence. ‘Of course he is. Broggle was tryin’ to tell Mhera about the prisoner we took, him’n’me an’ ole Hoarg.’
Alkanet folded her paws, turning the frozen stare on Drogg. ‘Prisoner, what prisoner? You’d better tell me everything!’
Tagg’s paws were throbbing from banging on the door, and he had shouted himself hoarse. He leaned against the big barrel, contemplating turning it on its side and rolling it hard at the door, but he soon realised it was a foolish idea. The room area was too small for rolling a barrel of its size with sufficient speed to damage the stout wood. Then he heard pawsteps. A short silence, followed by voices.
‘A big vermin, you say?’
‘Aye, Sister, big strong-lookin’ rascal with a faceful of tattoos that’d frighten the life out of ye!’
‘Hmm. And you knocked him out with a mallet and axe handles then locked him up down here. Why didn’t you tell anybeast?’
‘We were waiting for the right moment, Sister. I was trying to tell Mhera and Cregga about it when they dashed off.’
‘I see. What type of vermin is this creature? Is it armed?’
‘Er, I dunno. I’ve never seen many vermin. ‘Spect they all look the same, savage an’ murderous. He wasn’t carryin’ any kind o’ weapon, but he had a big heavy tail, like an otter’s rudder. But I’ve heard o’ weasels an’ stoats that had hefty tails. Remember what we learned at Abbeyschool about that rat, Cluny the Scourge? Didn’t he have a big heavy tail?’
Tagg listened intently to the speculation going back and forth. If he had been branded as a vermin, it might make matters worse if he began shouting. They could be frightened off. He decided to hold his silence until somebeast addressed him directly.
Nimbalo lay on his back, shutting his eyes against the sun. He felt furtively around the path until his tightly tied paws encountered what he had hoped to find. A sharp-edged piece of stone, not very big, but sufficient to his needs. Keeping his body as still as possible, he curled both paws inward. Then, gripping the stone securely, he began rubbing the broken edge against his bonds, hoping the vermin would not notice.
Eefera took Gruven’s sword and leaned over the ditch’s edge to lay it against Nimbalo’s ear. ‘Wot’s the matter with ye all in there?’ he called out. ‘Don’t ye care about yore liddle friend Nimbalo? Come an’ see if yer don’t believe us. Come on, ye lily-livered craven, we won’t sling or fire arrows, ye’ve got my word on it!’
Cregga and Mhera lay flat beneath the threshold battlements, flanked by Gundil and Egburt. ‘What d’you think?’ Mhera whispered to the Badgermum. ‘You know more about vermin than us.’
Cregga placed a cautionary paw upon Mhera’s shoulder. ‘Don’t trust them, that’s the first rule I learned about vermin. I don’t know who this Nimbalo creature is, but it may be a trap, so here’s what we’ll do. Gundil and Egburt, you go back into the Abbey. Tell Drogg and any other able-bodied beasts to arm themselves and come up to the gate. They should be safe enough now the slinging has stopped. If the vermin have got a mouse prisoner, we might get the chance to open the doors quickly, dash out there and rescue him. But tell Drogg to stay by the gate, quietly, until I give the word. Go now.’
The Taggerung (Redwall) Page 32