The Long Patrol Part 23

Eventually the fire inside the canvas-and-brush shelter began to burn low. From beneath his heavy disguise, Midge Manycoats winked significantly at his friend. It was time to make their move. Tammo edged slowly around until he judged that Rinkul the ferret and his cronies, who were hovering outside, could not see him.

Midge stood upright. Sneezewort's spearpoint menaced him, a fraction from his throat. "Siddown, ragbag, where d'yer think yore goin'?"

Midge stood his ground, nodding at the guttering flames. "Need more wood fer the fire, matey."

The rat considered Midge's request, then jabbed with his spear so that his prisoner fell back in a sitting position. "I'm not yore matey, an' you ain't goin' nowhere. Lousewort, keep an' eye on 'em. I'll get the wood."

Once Sneezewort had gone outside, Midge turned to his 258.

259 slow-witted partner. "You ain't afeared of us, are yer, bucko?"

A slow smile spread across the rat's dull features. "Er, er, scared? Huh, why should I be scared o' two rag-bottomed beasts like youse? Yore no bother at all t'me."

Midge moved closer to him, chuckling in a friendly manner. "Of course we ain't, a dumb ole vermin like me mate there, an' a pore one-eyed wreck like me. Fat chance we'd 'ave agin a fine big strappin' beast like yerself, armed wid a great spear like that 'un. But lookit, yore spear shaft's cracked right there!"

Lousewort lowered his head, following Midge's pointing paw. "Where? I don't see no crack."

Midge's other paw came swinging over, clutching a stone he had picked up from where he had been sitting.

Whump!

He hit Lousewort a hefty blow between the ears. The rat's body wobbled, and he staggered dazedly. Using the handle of his dirk, which he had kept well hidden beneath his cloak, Tammo sprang forward and dealt Lousewort a smart rap between the eyes.

Midge caught the spear, lowering the senseless rat quietly down. "Quick, Tamm, put that fire out and get this spear!"

Tammo kicked earth over the embers, then, grabbing the spear, he stood to one side of the entrance. Midge positioned himself on the other side, holding the fallen rat's cloak at the ready. Almost as they did, Sneezewort ducked inside, carrying a few twigs. "Hoi! 'Taint arf dark in 'ere, wot's go- Mmmtnffff!''

Midge had flung the cloak over the rat's head. Tammo gave him two good hard knocks with the spearhaft to make sure he went out.

Then they lay still, peering outside at Rinkul and his band, who had made a fire some distance away-careful after Da-mug's warning to stay away from the prisoners. Tammo watched them until he was sure they had noticed nothing amiss. Midge pa.s.sed him Sneezewort's cloak and spear, and donned Louse wort's cloak himself.

"Get rid o' those rags now, Tamm. We'll have to s.h.i.+ft pretty fast!"

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Discarding their disguises, they slid under the rear of the canvas shelter and wriggled off into the night, hugging tight to the ground until they were well away. Midge threw the hood of his cloak up. "Now t'get old Fourdun free. Right, Tamm, straighten up there! Make it look as if we're two sentry-type vermin takin' a duty patrol 'round the camp, wot."

Picking their way boldly 'round Rapscallions sleeping by campfires, the pair made their way down to the stream. Blug-gach the Rapmark Captain was snoring next to his companions by the water's edge, their fire untended and burned to white ashes.

Tammo crept up to the cage and identified himself to the old squirrel. "It's Tammo an' Midge. C'mon, old chap, time to go!"

A few swift slices of Tammo's dirk severed the ropes on the cage door, and Fourdun crawled out, having already freed himself of his bonds with the small knife they had given him earlier.

Positioning themselves either side of Fourdun, the hares gripped his paws and marched him off quietly, Midge whispering to him, "If anybeast stops us, leave the talkin' to me. We're two Rapscallion guards takin' you to Damug 'cos he wants to question you. I'll bluff us through, don't worry."

Lousewort had two things going in his favor: an extra-thick skull and remarkable powers of recovery. Staggering from the dark smoky shelter, he sat on the ground, nursing his head and grunting with pain.

Rinkul, who had been watching the darkened shelter suspiciously, came bounding over. "Where's the two prisoners? 'Ave yer still got 'em?"

Shaking his head gingerly, Lousewort peered up at him. "Er, er, I dunno, it went dark all of a sudden!"

Rinkul ran back to his fire and s.n.a.t.c.hed a blazing brand. Kicking Lousewort aside, he rushed into the shelter, and seizing Sneezewort cruelly by one ear, he struck him several times with the burning stick until the rat came 'round with a yelp.

"Bunglin' idiot," Rinkul snarled into Sneezewort's frightened face. "Y've let 'em escape, 'aven't yer! Best thing you can do is take off fast afore the Firstblade learns they're gone, or Damug'H slay youVyore mate fer sure. Go on, beat it, an'

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don't raise no alarms. Leave those two t'me, I'll settle wid 'em!" He signaled to his waiting band. "Arm up an' let's go, they've escaped. Don't go shoutin' an' roarin' all over the camp. I wants those two ragbags fer meself. We'll catch 'em an' take 'em somewheres nice'n'quiet where I'll do that pair 'ard an' slow afore dawnbreak. Now go silent!"

Lousewort staggered upright, and Sneezewort leaned on him for support. "That's us finished wid the Rapscallions, mate. Let's be on our way afore Warfang wakes an' decides to 'ave us fer brekkfist!"

Without another word, they stumbled off, south, as far as they could get from Damug Warfang's vengeance.

The three escapers made their way uphill through the still-sleeping camp. Tammo felt that all was going well, too well, and that worried him. Fourdun peered around into the darkness and suddenly saw Rinkul and his band striding through the camp, coming in their direction.

Thinking swiftly, the old squirrel pulled his two friends down beside half a dozen vermin lying 'round a fire, and scrambled beneath Midge's cloak. "Lie still, some o' the sc.u.m are comin' this way!"

Hardly daring to breathe, they stretched on the ground amid the slumbering Rapscallions. Rinkul actually trod on the hem of Tammo's cloak as they went by, and Tammo heard the ferret murmur to one of his companions as they pa.s.sed, "I've got a feelin' they'll be down by the stream where that ole squirrel's caged up!"

Raising his head carefully, Midge watched them from the back as they headed toward the water. The trio rose slowly, avoiding the outstretched paws of a stoat who was acting out a dream. The stoat snuffled and turned away from them, kicking out with a footpaw that came into contact with a glowing log.

"Yowch!"

At the sound of the creature's yelp, Rinkul and his party turned.

Midge saw they were discovered. He took off at a run, hissing to his friends, "Fat's in the fire, chaps, make a dash for it!"

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Silently and grimly the chase of death began as they shot off uphill.

The stoat was clutching his scorched footpaw, hopping about. One of RinkuFs band whacked him with a cudgel as he pa.s.sed, and snarled, "Go back ter sleep, mate!"

Though Fourdun was a strong old beast, he was not half as fast as the two hares, so they were forced to run at his pace. With the enemy hard on their heels, they got clear of the encampment and made the brow of the hill. Midge turned and threw his spear, and it pierced a vixen who was running alongside Rinkul. This slowed their pursuers momentarily and bought them a second's time.

Breasting the hill, Tammo called out as they ran, "Rock! Rockjaw Grang!"

Lower downhill, the giant hare heard Tammo. Leaping from cover, he bounded uphill to meet them. Rinkul was first over the hilltop. He had pulled the spear from the dead vixen; taking aim at Midge, he threw the weapon skillfully.

"Sithee, Midge, look out!"

Rockjaw flung himself in a flying tackle, bulling into Midge and knocking him sideways. The spear took Rockjaw through his side.

Hatred welled up in Tammo. He heaved his own spear straight at Rinkul. It struck the ferret through his middle, snapping off as he fell and rolled downhill toward them.

Rockjaw brushed Midge and Fourdun aside as they tried to lift him. Close to a dozen vermin were das.h.i.+ng down upon them now. The big hare unslung his bow, crying, "Get goin', I'll hold'em off!"

The lifeless carca.s.s of Rinkul the ferret halted its downhill roll in front of Rockjaw. He forced the hardwood stick from its death grip and tossed it to Tammo. "Good throw, young 'un. Russa woulda been proud o' ye. Now leave me an' run fer it, I'm bad hit!"

Fourdun ducked an arrow as he inspected Rockjaw's side. He looked up, shaking his head at Tammo. " Twould kill him to pull the spear out!"

The big hare sat up and sent two arrows in quick succession at the vermin. Notching another shaft to his bow, he glared angrily at the two friends standing either side of him. "Sithee, 'tis not yore night to die. Now get out o' here an' don't stand there wastin' my time. Leave me t'my work!" Ignoring them completely, he fired the arrow and selected another.

Fourdun tugged at their paws, whispering urgently, "Can't y'see he's dyin'? If we stay here we'll ail be slain. That beast doesn't want or need yore 'elp. Come on!"

Attracted by the shouts of their comrades, the vermin from the camp edges near the hilltop appeared. Rockjaw laughed wildly. "Hohoho! Come t'the party, buckoes, the more the merrier! Tammo, Midge, tell the Major I took a few wid me. Good fortune, pals-run straight'n'true an' remember me!"

Tammo, Midge, and Fourdun had to run for it before the ,;; Rapscallions encircled them. They ran like the wind into the f" night, shouting, "Give 'em blood*n'vinegar, Rock!" Soon they were lost among the groves and knolls, charging headlong across darkened country until there was no sound save the thrumming of their paws against the earth.

* Rockjaw Grang sat on with his back against a jutting boul-..; der, the arrow quivers of two dead vermin beside him, his -;* sling and stones ready for when he ran out of shafts. Completely surrounded, and wounded in four places, he fought on. r "Come on, thee cowardly sc.u.m. Ah'II wager n.o.beast warned ye about Goodwife Grang's eldest son. Eulaliaaaaaa!" As the foebeasts closed in on him, Rockjaw drew the spear from his side and hurled himself upon them like a creature > taken by the Bloodwrath.

" 'S death on the wind! Eulalia! Eulalia! Eulaliaaaaaaa!" He bought the time for his friends to escape safely, for even within sight of Dark Forest gates, Rockjaw Grang was a perilous hare.

Lady Cregga Rose Eyes sat bolt upright from the bed of gra.s.s and soft mosses she had been laid upon for a day and a night. It was but a few hours to dawn as the great badger roared out, "Eulaliaaaa!"

Corporal Ellbrig and Sergeant Clubrush, wakened from their sleep, rushed to her side.

"Lady Cregga, what is it?"

Her strange eyes looked all 'round before settling on Clubrush. "A bad dream, Sergeant, a very bad dream!"

She rose and stared over his shoulder in a northwesterly direction. The Drill Sergeant was very concerned. He watched Cregga's eyes carefully, though it was still too dark to see them clearly.

"Are you all right, marm?"

She moved to the nearest fire, nodding to rea.s.sure him. "I'm fine, Sergeant, but very hungry. How long to breakfast?"

Corporal Ellbrig busied himself at the fire. "Right now if y'like, marm, you h'aint eaten in two days."

Deodar and Algador had just finished their sentry watch, so they joined the trio at the fire. Young hares are always willing 264.

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to eat an early breakfast when they smell it being cooked. Lady Cregga seemed in a rather mild, thoughtful mood, which was unusual for her. She pa.s.sed scones and honey to Deodar, followed by a beaker of hot mint and dandelion tea.

"Breakfast tastes good after being on sentry, eh?"

Through a mouthful of scone, the young hare sipped her tea. "Rather, marm, 'specially when you can have an hour's sleep before reveille an' join the jolly old queue for more."

Lady Cregga smiled at Deodar's honesty. "Tell me, young 'un, do you ever have dreams?"

"Dreams, marm? Well, yes, I s'pose I do."

The badger stared down at her huge paws. "I had a dream just now, and I believe it to be true."

Algador paused from ladling honey onto a hot scone. "Really, marm? May I ask what it was about?"

The Sergeant was about to upbraid Algador, when Cregga spoke. "I'm afraid I couldn't tell you the parts that aren't clear, but I know a brave creature died. I shouted Eulalia with him as he went down. Somewhere over there to the northwest. And the more I think of it, the more certain I am. That is where the army of Rapscallions is at this very moment. I can feel it!"

The two young hares exchanged puzzled glances with the Corporal and Sergeant until Lady Cregga caught their attention once more. "When the sun is up and my hares are fed, we will go there."

Trowbaggs spooned hot oatmeal in at a furious rate, eyeing a last scone that lay between him and Furgale. ' 'Well lucky old us, it's heigh-ho for the northwest on the strength of a bally dream, wot! I think I'll dream tonight that I've been sent back to Salamandastron to take up the blinkin' job of head food-taster. D'you think it'll work?"

Drill Sergeant Clubrush tweaked the cheeky recruit's ear. "Strange y'should say that, young sir. HTve just 'ad a dream that you was on pot-was.h.i.+n' duty an' you volunteered to carry my pack all day. Wot d'you say to that, young Trowbaggs?"

"Er, haha, silly beastly things dreams are, Sarge, er, that is unless Lady Cregga dreams 'em up, wot!"

The Sergeant's pace stick tapped Trowbaggs's shoulder 266.

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lightly. "Right y'are, bucko, an' don't you forget it!"

hares a.s.sembled after breakfast for their final orders before marching. Lady Cregga and Corporal Ell-brig looked on from the sidelines as Drill Sergeant Clubrush lectured them.

"Listen carefully now. From this moment we march silent an' quick. An' when I say silent-Trowbaggs an' some o' you other young rips-I means it! Foolish an' thoughtless noise or playactin' could get us all ambushed or slain. Shangle Widepad, you an' the other seasoned veterans keep an eye on our recruits, 'tis yore duty to show 'em the ropes. Everybeast, make sure yore weapons are in good order-slings, javelins, swords, bows'n'quivers. Soon we'll be in enemy territory an* you may need 'em. Right, that's all. Unless you got anythin' t'say to 'em, Lady Cregga, marm?"

For the first time, the Badger Warrior addressed the five hundred hares who formed her traveling army. "So far you have all proved worthy and well, my thanks to you. Soon we will be facing Rapscallions in battle. Make no mistake about them-vermin they may be, but they are trained killers. To bring peace to these lands we must slay them, or be slain. From this moment you are hunters and warriors, and there will be no marching songs, Eutalias, or campfires. That is all."

They marched then. No commands were called; a nod, the wave of a pace stick, or a signal from the Sergeant's paw was all that they required. They kept to gra.s.sland, ferns, and rocky terrain wherever possible, so that a tell-tale dust cloud would not betray their position. Trowbaggs strode silently alongside Shangle Widepad. After a while the irrepressible young hare found himself humming a little ditty called the "Fat Frog's Dinner," and he winked at Shangle and grinned. The glare he received from the grizzled veteran silenced him immediately. Grim-faced and determined, the five hundred pressed on.

Rapscallion drums pounded savagely, throwing out their wild challenge to the summer skies. Pennants and war banners fluttered in the breeze, bedecked with tails, skulls, and hanks of animal hair. The little rat informant Gribble slunk about outside the Firstblade's shelter, waiting for him to emerge. Damug Warfang strode out, his face streaked purple and red for battle. Unsheathing his sword, he cast an approving eye over the ranks of snarling vermin before turning to the rat groveling on (he ground in front of him.

"Speak your piece quickly, Gribble, then get out of my way!"

The rat was already shuffling backward to avoid a sudden kick. "Great Lord, the Seer and the dumb one are gone, so are the two guards you left to watch them. Also the ferret Rinkul and several others are missing from camp."

Damug faced west across the valley slope and nodded curtly. "Well, let's hope they catch those two, for tiieir own sakes. If they've deserted Til find them when this is all over. But now I march west, to find out what these Redwallers are made of. Stand aside-death waits on anybeast barring my way!"

The Greatrat hurried to the forefront of his vast eager army, with their roars drowning out the pounding drums: "War-faaaaang! Warfaaaaang! Warfaaaang!"

Away to the west, a green valley basked in the warm sun. Light breezes rippled the vale ferns and stirred the blossoms of gorse and pimpernel on the broad hillslope. A single rock with moss and lichen clinging to its sides stood out on the long high ridge like a raised ottertail. Far below, wispy tendrils of mist arose from where the sun's warmth penetrated a deep rift that ran like a jagged scar along the valley's far edge. Small birds, redstart, stonechat, and wheatear, chirruped and chattered, perching on gorse thorns with sure-clawed skill, bright beady eyes constantly searching for minute insects. b.u.t.terflies and b.u.mblebees visited the flowers of the vale, and sunlight glinted off the iridescent wings of hoverflies seeking aphids.