The Long Patrol Part 18

"Bring all crafts amids.h.i.+ps, sharp now, bow'n'stern broadsides!"

Four logboats were soon wedged lengthways against the flow, their stems and sterns resting on opposite sh.o.r.es of the narrow waterway. Gratefully, the moles scrambled ash.o.r.e, kissing the ground in thanks for rneir safe landing. Skipper and his otters went ahead to the point where the stream disappeared into a hillside.

"This is it, mates," announced Skipper. "Spread out an' search for a big boulder!"

By the time the rest arrived, the streamflow had dwindled a bit, owing to the course being blocked by the logboats.

Gurgan waded through it and climbed the hill to admonish Skipper. "Thou'rt still hurted, thee shouldn't ha' come!"

The tough otter scratched at one of his wounds, which was beginning to itch. "Coupla scratches never stopped me doin' what I like, mate. Ahoy mere, mates, that's a good ole boulder ye found!"

The stone was partially sunk into the earth, but Foremole Diggum and his crew soon dug it out. Using a smaller rock as a chock, the otters levered the roundish ma.s.s of stone uphill, using shrew oars to move it. Gurgan threw his added weight into the task, while Foremole marked out a spot on the hilltop, calling, "Bring ee bowlder up to yurr!"

Once or twice the heavy stone rolled back on them, but they were determined creatures. Otters, shrews, moles, and the Wa-terhog Chieftain gritted their teeth and fought the boulder, fraction by fraction, until it rested on Foremole's mark. Sighting with a straight twig, Foremole ordered the boulder moved a bit this way and a bit that way. Finally satisfied, he took an oar and gave the boulder one hard shove with the paddle end. The great rock toppled down into the stream, sending up a shower of water; then it rolled back downhill and lodged itself 203 squarely across the spot where the flow vanished underground. Moles and otters dashed down to pack the edges with a mixture of mud, pebbles, and whatever bits of timber came to paw.

The flow of the stream halted and backed up on itself until it became a becalmed creek. A short celebratory meal at the creekside would have been appropriate, but the otter crew had eaten all the food, so they drank the last of the October Ale and plum cordial, then got the boats headed out. Log-a-Log called out to the moles, who had remained onsh.o.r.e, "Come on, mateys, back to the Abbey. 'Twill be a fine fast sail downriver, we'll be back afore ye knows it!"

Foremole wrinkled his nose, trundling off along the bank-side. "You'm go, zurr Log, an' gudd lukk to ee. Us'n's be walkin' back even if'n it takes ten season t'do et. No more sailin' fur molers!"

Tammo watched, fascinated, as Midge Manycoats applied his disguise before a burnished copper mirror in Sister Viola's dormitory. The small hare explained as he went along.

"Alter the face first, that's half the trick. See, I roll my own ears down and put on this ole greasy cap with false ears stickin' out the side of it, one's only half an ear an' the other has a slice out of it, just like some smelly ole vermin. Now, I rub m'face with this oily brown stuff-pa.s.s me that candle, Tamm. Singe the whiskers down an' rub 'em 'til they're scrubby. Good! Put a patch over one eye, and paste a thin bit o' bark over the other, givin' it a nasty slant. Aye, that's more like it. Look, a little black limpet sh.e.l.l, stick it on the end of my handsome nose with a blob o' gum, an' presto! Snidgey pointed vermin hooter, wot! Few bits o' darkened wax over the teeth, two long thorns stuck in the wax just under the top lip. Haharr, fangs! Pa.s.s me that greasy charcoal stick, hmm, two wicked downcurved lines, one either side of the mouth, that's it! Righto, I throw this filthy tattered sack over me, belt it with a loose cob o' rope, crouch down a bit, hunch shoulders, shuffle footpaws. What d'you see, Tammo?"

The young hare gasped in amazement. Standing before him was an aged vermin creature, neither wholly rat, ferret, or stoat, but definitely vermin of some type.

2O4 "Great seasons o1 soup! No wonder they call you Midge Manycoats!"

Midge adopted the whining vermin slang. "Harr, wait'll yer sees yerself when I'm done wid ye, cully!"

Rockjaw Grang was having what he figured would be his last good hot meal for a while, working his way through an immense potato, mushroom, and carrot pastie oozing rich dark herb gravy. Dibbuns surrounded the big hare, watching his throat bob up and down as he polished off a tankard of dandelion and burdock cordial. Gubbio the molebabe pushed a steaming cherry and damson pudding in front of Rockjaw, and Sloey, none the worse for her adventure, poured yellow mea-dowcream plentifully over it.

"Whoo! A you goin' to eat alia dat up, mista G'ang?"

Rockjaw sat the mousebabe up on the table. "Sithee, jus' you watch me, liddle la.s.s, but keep out of t'way, else I'll scoff thee an' all. Aye, y'd be right tasty wi' a plum in yore mouth an' some cream o'er yore 'ead!"

Clapping their paws and jumping up and down, the Dibbuns chortled, "Goo on, mista G'ang, eat Sloey alia up!"

The giant hare set Sloey back down on the floor. "Only if she's very naughty. 'Ey up, wot's this?"

Two thoroughly evil-looking vermin shuffled into the kitchens and began dirtying their blades by coating them with vegetable oil and soot from the stovepipes. The Dibbuns shrieked and leapt upon Rockjaw, clinging tearfully to his neck. He patted the tiny heads soothingly.

"Shush now, liddle 'uns, 'tis only Midge an' Tammo actin' at bein' varmints. You go an' play with the babby owls an' Russano now. I'll eat those two up if'n they frightens any more Dibbuns."

Shad the Gatekeeper took Abbess Tansy and Craklyn down to the platform beneath the south wall. They lowered two lanterns on a rope and saw that the water had dwindled away to a mere trickle.

Shad grunted with satisfaction. "Y'see, marms, they found the stream an' likely blocked it off. Soon it'll be dry down there. May'aps then we'll go down an' take a look around. I 205 don't mind tellin' you, I'm real curious t'see wot 'tis like. I know you are too, miz Craklyn."

The old Recorder peered down at the drying stream bed. "It's my duty to see what's down there. Everything has to be recorded and written up for future generations of our Abbey. Which leads me to think I've been looking in the wrong place to find out more about this-the answer might lie in your gatehouse, Shad. I suspect that if we look through Redwall's first records, the truth about all this may emerge."

Tansy kissed her old friend's cheek. "But of course! What a clever old Recorder you are, Craklyn."

The Recorder of Redwall turned away from the pit, signaling Shad to escort them aboveground. "You're no spring daisy yourself, Mother Abbess. Come on, we've a long dusty job ahead of us."

Shad hastily excused himself from the task. "Beggin' yore pardons, but I got other ch.o.r.es t'do. You ladies 'elp yoreselves to anythin' y'need in my gate'ouse. I can't abide the dust an' disorder when you starts unpackin' those ole record books'n'scrolls off the shelves, miz Craklyn."

Tansy watched the otter hurrying off across the Abbey lawns. "Other ch.o.r.es to do, indeed, great wallopin' water-dog!"

Craklyn chuckled as she took her friend's paw. "Don't be too hard on poor Shad. Otters never made good scholars. He's probably off to play with little Russano and the baby owls."

37.

The south wallgate had been jammed shut by the subsidence, so Tammo, Midge, and Rockjaw were leaving by the little east wallgate. Major Perigord and Pasque Valerian saw them off. Perigord was none too happy about Tammo going.

"Now remember, you chaps, keep y'heads down an' don't attract too much attention to yourselves. Normally I would have sent Tare or Tuny with Midge, but as the rhyme names you, Tamm, well it seems you're the one to go. So take it easy, young bucko, an' report back to Rockjaw whenever you can. We'll get news of the battleground to you as soon as we hear back from Torgoch and Mono. Look after 'em, Rock. I've no need to tell you of the danger they'll be in."

Rockjaw Grang saluted the Major. "Never fear, sah, y'can rely on me!"

The soft brown eyes of Pasque looked full of concern. Tammo winked roguishly at her from beneath his vermin disguise. "Don't fret, chum, we'll be back before you know it!"

Perigord watched them threading their way south through the woodland until the three figures were lost among the trees. He locked the east wallgate carefully, then, turning to the de- 206.

207 jected Pasque, he chucked her gently beneath the chin. "C'mon now, missie, you'll bring on the rain with a face like that, wot! Your Tammo'll be back in a day or two, full o' tales of how he outwitted the Rapscallions. Cheer up, that's an order!"

Midge Manycoats had done an excellent job of disguising Tammo, making him look old and thoroughly evil by giving him s.h.a.ggy beetling brows to hide his eyes and a matted straggling beard. To this he added a greasy flop hat, lots of jangling bra.s.s ornaments, and an old dormitory blanket that was literally in frayed tatters, after he had finished trouncing it about in the orchard compost heap. Tammo not only looked villainous, but smelled highly disreputable.

Both hares found themselves gasping for breath under their camouflage. Leaning against an oak tree, they pleaded with the long-striding Rockjaw.

"I say, Rock, ease off a bit, will you, you've got the pair of us whacked with that pace o' yours!"

"Aye, slow down, mate, or we'll perish long before we find the vermin camp. Whew! I'm roasted under this lot!"

The big fellow turned and retraced his path, halting several paces from them and wafting a paw across his nostrils. "By 'eck, you lads don't mind if'n I stands well upwind of ye?"

Tammo leered nastily and tried out his vermin accent. ' 'Ho harr, me ole matey, you don't expect us t'go sailin' inter a Rapscallion camp smellin' like dewy roses now, do yer?"

Beneath his disguise, Midge winced at the pitiful attempt. "I think you'd best keep your Up b.u.t.toned an' pretend to be my dumb a.s.sistant, Tamm. That vermin accent o' yours is awful!"

Rockjaw agreed with Midge's a.s.sessment. "Aye, yore too nice-spoken, Tammo, prob'ly 'cos you was well brung up!"

Young Friar b.u.t.ty brought a tray to the gatehouse that afternoon because neither Tansy nor Craklyn had been back to the Abbey building for anything to eat. Both windows and the door were wide open to counteract the dust. b.u.t.ty blinked as ne entered, and looked about for somewhere to set the tray down.

208.

"I was beginnin' t'get worried about you, marm, an' you too, miz Craklyn. So I brought you a snack. There's turnip an' carrot bake, cold mint tea, some blackberry tarts, an' a small rhubarb an' strawberry crumble I made special for you. They're fresh strawberries from the orchard, nice an' early this season."

Tansy looked up over the top of her tiny gla.s.ses. "Thank you, Friar b.u.t.ty, how thoughtful. Just put the tray on that chair, please. Let's take a break, Craklyn."

While they ate their food, b.u.t.ty looked around at the piles of books, ledgers, scrolls, and charts piled everywhere, lots of them browny-yellow with age.

Craklyn watched him as she sipped gratefully at a beaker of cool mint tea. ' 'Those are our Abbey records going right back to when Redwall was first built. Unfortunately they're mixed in with lots of old recipes, poems, songs, herbalists' notes and remedies. Help yourself to any recipes that you like-they may come in useful when you get stuck for cooking ideas."

b.u.t.ty, however, was looking at the latest piece of writing, the parchment on which Craklyn had recorded the words sent via Tammo from Martin the Warrior. He read aloud the second part of the verse.

"One day Redwall a badger will see, But the badger may never see Redwall, Darkness will set the Warrior free, The young must answer a mountain's call."

Abbess Tansy glanced up from her seat in a deep armchair. "Why did you pick that part of the poem to read, Friar?"

The young squirrel tapped the parchment thoughtfully. "Well, it seemed to me at the time that the first part of the thing was all that you were interested in, that bit about the battle taking place elsewhere and Tammo goin' along with Midge Manycoats. n.o.beast took an interest in the second part. What d'you suppose it means?" -.

Craklyn pointed out the first two words of the ninth line. "See here, this line begins with the words 'One day.' So we take that to mean at some distant time in the future. All we 209 were looking for in the poem was Martin's immediate message to save Redwall from danger. But you're right, b.u.t.ty, it is a very mysterious and interesting part you read out. Alas, we cannot see the future, so we will just have to wait for time itself to unroll the message it contains."

Friar b.u.t.ty put the parchment down and riffled through the ma.s.s of papers piled on a nearby shelf. He withdrew a thick and aged-looking volume, blowing the dust from it. "Aye, I suppose you're right, marm, time reveals all sooner or later, probably even the secrets that this old volume contains."

Tansy liked young b.u.t.ty; he was a fast learner. "My word, that is an ancient-looking thing. Does it say who wrote it? The name will be inside the front cover."

b.u.t.ty opened the book and read the faded script therein. " "The journal of Abbess Germaine, formerly of Loam-hedge.' "

Mint tea spilled down Craklyn's gown as she jumped upright. "The architect of the Abbey! That's the very volume we're looking for! Well done, young sir!" * Hurrying out into the sunlight, the trio seated themselves on '{ the broad stone steps leading to the gatehouse threshold. Crak->; lyn turned carefully to the first page. "I'll wager an acorn to :-** a bushel of apples that the answer to what lies beneath our . south wall is in these pages somewhere!"

_- The crews of the logboats strode into the kitchens, refreshed =r by their fast trip downstream and hungry as hunters. Skipper whacked his rudderlike tail against a big pan. "Ahoy, Friar . b.u.t.ty, any vittles fer pore starvin' creatures?"

Mother Buscol waddled from the corner cupboard, waving a threatening ladle at the otter. "Look, you great noisy riv-^ erdog, b.u.t.ty ain't 'ere, see. So don't you come with yore rough gang a shoutin' an' hollerin' 'round these kitchens when ; we just got the owlbabes takin' their noontide nap!" ",*: Gurgan Spearback touched his headspikes respectfully. '"- "Thee'll 'scuse us, marm, we'll be well satisfied t'sit out in ; your dinin' room an' wait t'be served by one as pretty as yoreself."

Taken by surprise at the Waterhog's courtly manner, Mother Buscol smiled and dipped a deep curtsy. "Indeed to goodness, 210 sir, I'll just warm up the pasties and heat some soup. Would you be takin' gooseberry cordial with it?''

Gurgan bowed, sticking one of his immense boots forward as he made what he considered to be an elegant leg.

" Twould be more'n sufficient, m'lady, 'specially if it were served by yore own fair paws!"

Chuckling, the old squirrelmother set about her task.

Log-a-Log nudged Gurgan. "You fat ole flatterer, all she was about t'give us was a swipe with 'er ladle. 'Ow d'you do it, matey?"

Gurgan led them out to the tables, winking slyly. "A smidgeon o' sugar's worth ten barrels o* rocks, friend. Lackaday, who did that to yore nose, Shad?"

The burly otter Gatekeeper was seated at the table, feeding candied chestnuts to the little badger Russano. He touched the dock leaf wrapped tenderly 'round his snout. "Never lean too close to owlchicks, matey, they got beaks on 'em like liddle scissors. I just found that out when I was playin' with 'em. Savage beasts they are, they'll eat anythin' at all!"

Skipper laughed and tickled the badgerbabe's footpaws. "An' 'ow's my liddte mate 'ere behavin* 'imself, eh?"

Shad patted Russano proudly. "I just taught 'im a new word. Watch!"

He held a candied chestnut up, just out of Russano's reach. The tiny fellow reached out his paws, uttering the word gruffly. "Nut! Nut!"

The otters and shrews thought Russano's new word was a source of great hilarity. They gathered 'round him, chanting, "Nut! Nut! Nut! Nut!"

The two little owls, Orocca and her husband, Taunoc, came flying out of the kitchens. They landed on the tabletop, contracting and dilating their ma.s.sive golden eyes and flexing their talons.

''Whichbeast is making all the noise out here?''

"Waking our eggchicks with that silly nut-nut call!"

Straightfaced and serious, all the otters and shrews pointed at the badgerbabe Russano, who lay innocent and smiling. " 'Twasn't us, it was him!"

38.

Skaup the ferret and a dozen or more Rapscallions were out foraging, roaming farther than they usually did. Skaup was pleased: they had slain several birds and in addition had two clutches of waterfowl eggs and a fat old perch they had found floating dead in a stream. They were seated in a patch of shrub that had a blackberry sprig growing through it. Although the berries were only partially ripe, the vermin crew readily picked and ate them, the reddish-purple juice staining their paws and mouths.

Suddenly a stoat pointed to the left. "Over there, three beasts. Look!"

Rockjaw Grang dropped swiftly out of sight at the sound of the stoat's shout. He scurried off backward, bent double. "I ain't sure they got a proper glimpse o' me. You'll have to bluff 'em, Midge. Good luck, you two!"

Swords drawn, the Rapscallions advanced on the pair. Midge muttered urgently to Tammo, "Remember, you're dumb. Leave this t'me!"

A moment later the tip of Skaup's blade was touching Midge's throat. "Who are yer an' where'd you come from?"

212 Midge stood his ground fearlessly, curling his lip at the ferret. "I could ask you th' same question, bucko!"

"You ain't in no position to ask questions, rag'ead," Skaup sneered back at him. "There was three o' yer. Where'd the other one go to?''

Ignoring the swordtip, Midge shook his head pityingly. "If you seen three of us then you've either bin swiggin' grog or yer eyes are playin' tricks on yer. I'm Miggo an' this is me matey Burial. There ain't n.o.beast with us."

The stoat who first sighted Rockjaw scratched his head. "I'd swear I saw another, a big 'un *e was, I'm sure of it!"

Midge pushed Skaup's blade aside and grabbed the stoat, pulling him close. ' 'Ho, so yore the one seen three of us? Well wotta useless lump you are! I wager yer don't even know there's a chestnut in yore ear, do yer?"

Reaching out quickly, Midge gave the stoat's ear a sharp tug. The vermin yelped in pain, but his companions stood goggle-eyed, staring at the candied chestnut which the stranger had apparently pulled from the stoat's ear.

Tammo caught on right away to Midge's trick. Sliding a candied chestnut from the pouch under his blanket, he hobbled past Skaup, who had lowered his sword. Midge noted what Tammo had done, and gave the ferret a snaggle-toothed grin. "Look at yer swordpoint, mate!"

Skaup lifted the sword level with his eyes and found himself gazing at a candied chestnut impaled upon it. "But.. . 'ow did that get there?"

Midge cackled as he performed a shuffling little jig. "Hee-heehee! An' how did two of us turn up 'ere when we're supposed ter be three? I dunno, do you, mate?"

Midge looked so comical that some of the vermin started laughing. Tammo joined in with his friend's dance, the pair of them whirling and stamping, rags and tatters jouncing and twirling. Soon all the vermin were laughing at their antics, even Skaup.

From his hiding place behind a stately elm, Rockjaw smiled. Midge and Tammo were safe for the moment. Keeping a safe distance, the big hare shadowed the party as they made their way back to the Rapscallion camp.

Skaup trudged alongside Midge, eyeing him curiously.

213 "Yore a clever ole beast, Miggo. Let's see yer pull a chestnut out o* my ear, go on!"

Midge's unpatched eye twinkled slyly. "No need to, bucko. Look, there's one stuck to yer cloak!"

Skaup shook his head in wonderment as he pulled the sticky nut from the cloak across his shoulders and munched happily on it "Yore pal there, Burfal, why don't 'e never say any-thin'?"

Midge pa.s.sed a paw across his throat, grinning wickedly. "We 'ad an argument when we was both young 'uns. Burial called me some bad names, so I cut 'is throat. Haharr, 'e lived through it, but 'e ain't never spoke a single word since that day. Heeheehee! Ole Burfal won't call anybeast bad names no more!"