Part 14 (1/2)

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Two dormouse slaves peering through a crack in the door watched fascinated as the King of Searats attacked a bell with his sword. The bell clashed and clanged as Gabool hammered at it, both claws gripping his curved blade. The one-sided fight could have only one possible outcome. The sword blade snapped against the great bell and Gabool lay facedown upon the stone floor, panting and sobbing as the metallic echoes of the bell swirled around the banqueting hall.

The dormouse slave turned to his companion. ”Did you see that?”

”Aye, that I did. It looks like His Majesty is two waves short of a tide. Whoever saw a rat fight a bell?”

”Right, mate. And look, he lost. The great Gabool's cryin' on the floor like a baby squirrel who's lost his acorns. Hahahaha!”

The laughter rang through into the hall as the two slaves fled back into hiding.

Gabool gritted his teeth at the bell. ”Go on, laugh, yer great brazen lump. Laugh away, but next time I'll get a bigger sword!”

Abbot Bernard sat at late supper with Simeon, Mellus and Gabriel Quill. Foremole wandered in and sat picking at the barely touched food on the table.

”Burr, maisters. No news of 'ee young 'uns, then?”

Simeon felt the round firmness of an apple as he polished it on his sleeve. ”No news as yet, Foremole. But don't worry, they've got everything on their side-youth, health, strength and a sense of adventure. I wish that I were with them, old as I am.”

Mother Mellus tapped the table fretfully. ”I wish I were with them, too. I'd tan that Dandin's hide until he turned blue, the disobedient little wretch. That's all the thanks you get for looking after them, caring, worrying when they're ill. What about that scallywag nephew of yours, Gabe Quill?”

”Well, he fair shocked me, I can tell 'ee. Young Durry 157.

were always a quiet sort of 'og, good worker too. If you were to ask me I'd say as 'ee were led astray by that Storm Gullywhacker. My word, she's a wild 'un fer a liddle mouse, that she is.”

”If the three were gone together then I think it is for the best.”

Mother Mellus pushed aside her plate. ”How can you say that, Simeon?”

”Because either Dandin or Mariel has the spirit of Martin the Warrior walking alongside them, though I am not sure which one it is.”

Abbot Bernard looked thankfully toward his friend. ”Well, bless the seasons! Tell me more of this, friend Simeon.”

Mellus, ever the big practical badger mother, stood up from the table. ”I'm off to my bed, can't stop around here all night with young 'uns missing and you lot yarning away bout long-dead warriors. Martin or no Martin, first thing tomorrow I'm putting that big otter, wotsisname, Flagg, out on their trail. He'll bring the rascals back!”

When she had gone, blind Simeon began recounting his strange but wondrous experience.

”It happened last night as I sat dozing in my chair by the window. Oh, pour me some October ale, will you, Gabe-my throat's a bit dry.”

Somewhere out in the darkness a young blackbird chirruped as its mother drew it under her wing against the all-enveloping night.

Dawn broke gray with an unexpected shroud of drizzling rain. The four travelers were abroad early, continuing their northward trek upon the path. The flat-lands to the west had been left behind after the ford, now the forest closed in either side of the path.

”Pretty good this, wot? The jolly old trees leaning over are like an umbrella, dontcha think?”

Durry shook himself. ”No I don't, if tain't churnin'

158.

up the path into mud this rain is a drippin' off those trees onto the back of 'ee neck. Still, as my old nuncle allus says, if it be rainin' then there do be water pourin' from the sky.”

Mariel smiled and winked at Tarquin. ”A wise fellow, your old uncle.”

Durry nodded in innocent agreement. ”Oh aye, Nuncle Gabe's never short of wise sayin's. There do be no better way o' eatin' than with 'ee mouth, a full barrel's not an empty 'un, an' 'ee can allus tell a squirrel by his tail.”

Tarquin chuckled as he tuned his harolina. ”Hmm, that makes sense.”

Durry sniffed. ”A course it do. Bet you never see'd a squirrel wi'out one o' those lollopin' great bushy tails, did you?”

”Er, ah, no, don't s'pose I did, really.”

”There, that goes to show 'ee then. You can allus tell a squirrel by his tail, jus' like my nuncle says.”

Dandin kept in close to the pathside. ”The rain's getting heavier.”

There was a distant roll of thunder, lightning illuminated the sky. As they trudged on Durry whispered to Dandin, ”Lookit, Mariel's dropped back. Tears to me she's s.h.i.+verin' an' un'appy about summat.”

They hurried back to Mariel. She was clutching herself, rain dripping from her face and paws, s.h.i.+vering as she faltered along the path.

Dandin looked worried. ”Mariel, what's the matter with you?”

The mousemaid leaned against a spruce tree. ”Thunder, the rain and the lightning. . . . Reminded me of being thrown in the sea by Gabool . . . Terramort, my father ...”

Tarquin took charge. ”Golly, you look like a whitewashed duck, old thing. Here, Dandin, lend a paw. We'll get her under some dry trees and light a fire, she'd better rest up until this lot clears.”

159.

Slightly off the path on the east side they found a fir grove. Durry dug a shallow pit and kindled a small fire with dead branches and dry pine needles. With her back against a fir, Mariel sat dozing, soaking in the warmth of the fragrant dry atmosphere. Beyond the trees the rain pounded hard against the path, sending up brown splotches as it churned the dust to mud. Durry brewed some sage and mint tea, and they sipped the steaming liquid gratefully.

About halfway through the morning Dandin became aware that they were being watched by something crouching in the gra.s.s on their left. Slowly he unsheathed the sword, signaling with his eyes to Tar-quin and Durry. All three rose quietly and moved toward the long gra.s.s until they could see the watcher.

It was a large snake!

Dandin had never seen a snake before, though he had heard many stories at Redwall of the dangerous poisonteeth. He felt a s.h.i.+ver convulse his whole body at the sight of the slithering coils, the flickering tongue and the twin beads of cold ruthlessness of the reptile's eyes. It came clear of the long gra.s.s, hissing and weaving its head from side to side as it menaced them. Dandin unsheathed his sword, whispering to Tarquin, ”What do we do now? It looks very dangerous.”

The hare took the nearest weapon to paw, his haversack of food. He stood at ease, swinging it experimentally as he replied, ”Nothing to worry about really, old bean. See those black markings on the thing's back? Well, that's supposed to be an adder. Camouflage, I think-the bally creature's a bit small for an adder, take my word, laddie. There's lots of harmless gra.s.s snakes who mark themselves up with plant dyes an' whatnot, just so travelers like you an' I will think they're adders an' become frightened of 'em.”

Dandin kept his sword pointed at the serpent's head. ”D'you think so, Tarquin?”

'”Course I do, old son,” the confident hare snorted.

160.

”The blighter's a fraud, a blinkin' charlatan. Right then, you dreadful snake thingy. Move out or I'll brain you on the bonce with this havvysack, d'you hear?”

The snake, however, had other ideas. It had fixed its reptilian stare on Durry Quill and was gliding slowly toward him. Durry stood rooted to the spot, trembling and unable to move under the hypnotic spell of the reptile's evil eyes.

Sitting in a half-slumber, Mariel gradually noticed that some creature was talking to her. She opened her eyes partially and saw the armor-clad figure of the dream mouse warrior whom Dandin had called Martin. His voice was strong and stern.

”Mariel, rise up, your friends are in danger. Rise up, Mariel!”